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urfavoritewriter · 8 months

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Beachside Appetite

Content: M/?, Male Vore, Male Pred, Digestion. Likes and reblogs are very appreciated!

Brandon lounged on the sandy shores, the gentle hum of the beach around him. The sun kissed his tanned skin, a light sheen of sweat making it glisten in the afternoon light. The serene lull of the waves crashing in the distance, children’s laughter, and distant chatter, were the perfect background noise for his relaxation.

Beside him, an empty towel and a few discarded personal items—a pair of flip-flops, a novel, and sunglasses—were the only testament to the beach-goer who had once occupied the spot. That, and the distinct, rounded bulge in Brandon’s stomach.

He adjusted his position slightly, propping himself up on one elbow, the sand molding to accommodate the added weight of his recent indulgence. His free hand lazily traced circles on his swollen belly. "You know," he began, addressing the mound with a smirk, "I always did say the beach was the best place for a snack."

From within, a muffled groan responded, the contours of his belly shifting faintly in protest. Brandon simply chuckled, enjoying the sensation of the beach-goer squirming inside him. The movements caused his taut skin to ripple slightly, drawing the curious glances of a few nearby sunbathers.

A playful breeze swept through, carrying the tang of salt and the tantalizing scent of sunscreen. Brandon tilted his face up, relishing the feel of the sun on his features. "You should be thanking me," he mused aloud, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "I mean, you get the best beach view, nestled comfortably inside me."

He sighed, stretching out his limbs, the hot sand gritty beneath him. His belly, with its pronounced bulge, stood in stark contrast to his chiseled abs and toned muscles. But Brandon didn’t mind. In fact, he found it rather... appealing. A testament to his power and dominance.

Feeling a bit more playful, he gave his belly a firm pat, eliciting another muffled protest from within. “Shhh,” he whispered, teasingly pressing a finger to his lips, even though his occupant couldn’t see it. “Let’s not make a scene. After all, I'm trying to enjoy my day at the beach.”

The afternoon sun climbed higher, casting its intense golden rays on the beach. As Brandon continued to bask, his skin warmed, and the bronze tan deepened. The sounds of the beach grew louder, the frolicking beach-goers adding to the merry ambiance. Yet for the one inside Brandon's belly, the surroundings were a stark contrast to his situation.

The temperature inside the confines of Brandon's stomach rose steadily, and the muffled, desperate movements from within grew more pronounced. The tightness was oppressive, the thick muscular walls of Brandon's insides pressing in from all sides, leaving little room for maneuvering.

However, for Brandon, each squirm and wriggle was like a gentle massage, a rhythmic motion that he could feel from deep within, making his relaxation even more pleasurable. He could almost visualize the poor beach-goer, trapped in his heated, constrictive prison, the tightness increasing with each passing moment.

Occasionally, he'd feel a particularly strong push or a kick, and he'd simply chuckle, giving his belly a soft, admonishing tap. "Easy there," he'd drawl, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in amusement. "I know it's hot, but it's summer, after all. Besides," he added, a teasing note in his voice, "this is what a real beach body feels like."

The scent of coconut oil wafted through the air as Brandon applied a generous amount to his skin, making sure not to miss a spot. His fingers lingered on the surface of his belly, tracing the faint outlines of the person inside. Each time his fingers brushed against a protruding elbow or knee, he'd smirk, reveling in his dominance. "See? A personal sunblock application," he whispered, his tone dripping with mock sweetness. "I really am taking good care of you."

But inside Brandon's gut, the heat was relentless. The combination of Brandon's natural body warmth and the scorching sun made for an unbearable sauna. The beach-goer's struggles grew weaker, exhaustion setting in from the oppressive environment and lack of space. But Brandon, seemingly oblivious to the plight of his captive, simply continued to luxuriate in the sun, his body and mind at complete ease.

As the day wore on and the shadows began to lengthen, Brandon felt a rising pressure in his chest, the result of the slow digestive process and the air trapped within. With a casual tilt of his head, he released a deep, resonating burp, the sound echoing slightly in the relative quiet of the late afternoon beach.

"Heh, excuse me," he chuckled, though there wasn’t really anyone around who seemed bothered by the sound. If anything, a couple of beach-goers nearby simply looked over with a mix of amusement and mild surprise.

Brandon's hands, strong and sun-warmed, settled once again on his belly, applying a gentle pressure and kneading it in slow circles. The motion elicited a few more feeble squirms from within, which only made Brandon's smirk grow wider. "You've been quite the companion today," he mused aloud, squeezing the bulge slightly, imagining the increased discomfort it would cause for his involuntary guest. "But all good things must come to an end."

Slowly, with the languid grace of a big cat, Brandon pushed himself to his feet, brushing the sand off his back and legs. He took a moment to stretch, every muscle in his well-defined body flexing and rippling under the sun. He caught sight of a few friends setting up a net for a game of beach volleyball nearby, the ball bouncing in the soft sand.

Grinning, he made his way over, calling out, "Need an extra player?" As he approached, he couldn't resist adding, "I've got a bit of added weight today, so I might be a bit slower," patting his belly with a wink. The laughs and jeers of his friends carried through the air, but deep inside him, the dread of what was to come intensified, as the prospect of a vigorous game of volleyball promised only more jostling and discomfort for the unfortunate beach-goer.

#male pred #male vore #digestion #beach vore #hunk pred #m/?

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izzysillyhandsy · 8 months

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Izzy's Gravy Basket

While discussing Izzy's looming end of season extravaganza (apparently Con's acting is so good we're all gonna lose our minds) on this poll, and maybe in connection with my episode 8 speculations here, @nicelimegreen put the thought of Izzy's own personal gravy basket in my mind - and I love it so much I have to write about it.

While Ed and Stede already let us see into their minds (and it was fascinating!), we haven't had anything like that from Izzy. And true to my firm belief that OMFD is a story about three central fuckups, an Izzy dream scene/hallucination would be absolutely perfect for the season finale to bring everything together.

Also, the unhinged enthusiasm of people who have seen all the episodes, specifically relating to Con's performance in episode 8, leads me to believe that there's something dramatic coming.

And why not Izzy's own purgatory?

I know, this makes it 3 death scenes in one season (plus 2 toe snips, an amputation and possibly torture?) which I would find a bit much even in hurt/no comfort fanfic, but it kinda is that kind of show, isn't it? (and I love it)

The fascinating question is, of course, what would Izzy's purgatory look like? (Please reblog and discuss, I'm going crazy with anticipation in general and about Izzy's conclusion specifically)

Let's look at our blueprint: Ed's gravy basket

Central conflict: self-hatred, fear of being a bad person, lack of self control, unloveable, no one cares if you live or die Location: beach, hut, cliffs Representation of self: Captain Hornigold, retired Pulling him out of it: Mermaid Stede <3 (I messed all of this up. I'll never leave you. You're safe.)

For Izzy, in my opinion, the central conflict is "What am I?" (from initially, "What am I to you?"). His arc this season is becoming a well-rounded person who can stand alone (first step: get a unicorn leg) and isn't (co-)dependent on his captain.

But that might not be all there is. Ed's death was directly connected to his conflict. I can't see how Izzy's death is caused by him becoming a more realized person.

Except... maybe this is a conflict between self-actualization and self-sacrifice. I've said it before, I sense a lot of guilt about something in his (and Ed's) past. Something about others paying the price for your ambitions (Letting someone die or driving them to suicide? Killing someone you love?).

Izzy spent a lifetime in the shadow of another man, propping him up (as best he could). Maybe there's a reason for this level of self-abandonment?

The location could be many places really - we know nothing of Izzy's past. It has to be quiet and introspective though, so I suggest a lake in some lonely place (Edward Teach born on a beach, Israel Hands born in the Midlands). Or a ship - because, at his core, Izzy is first and foremost a sailor.

Much more interesting is the person who'll be there with him. Keeping in line with our blueprint, it could be someone from Izzy's past.

For Ed, it was his feared captain who traumatized him deeply but also influenced large parts of his outwards persona, his conception of piracy and appropriate pirate behaviour. These are parts Ed hates about himself and that make him unhappy, and it ties in with his central conflict of course.

But for Izzy it could be the exact opposite. If it truly is a person from Izzy's past, it's very difficult to speculate who (that's why we need a scene like this - we know nothing about the fucker!).

I all comes down to how Izzy sees himself. Contrary to Ed, I don't think Izzy's conflict is self-hatred, so the person representing his self won't be someone Izzy hates.

I also don't see someone threatening - it is more likely someone in need of guidance, someone vulnerable and "weak". Maybe someone who wasn't strong and able enough to do their fucking job (and Izzy should have done it for him, then).

So who could that person be? It could be someone who was dependent on Izzy a long time ago, maybe someone he let down because he didn't protect/guide them properly. The person could be connected to the spade (traitor's?) tattoo or the ring on his cravat. It could also be a young Ed, who Izzy tried to take under his wing (for the record, I do firmly believe that Izzy taught Ed quite a few things, maybe not all he knows though).

He could also be alone 😢

I don't think Izzy wants to die like Ed did (he's doing quite well right now), but we've got 3 episodes left - who knows what'll happen. The guilt could play into it, or a feeling of this is how it was supposed to happen, I've paid my debts.

In any case, right at the end, someone will come and pull him out.

In spite of the crew being Izzy's love now, they've already saved him in Ep4. I think this time it should be Ed who comes for Izzy. I can also see Ed and Stede both being explicitly needed (Izzy has two hands).

I think there's a possibility Izzy won't drown though - maybe he'll burn in a wood/house/ship fire. A self-imposed fiery death in hell seems fitting with the guilt-theme somehow. But that's just me probably. Water works perfectly well too.

For the rescue, I am struggling to come up with something even half as perfect as a mermaid, I mean Ed and Stede can always ride in on a unicorn (bit of a double meaning there, but whatever), but that doesn't feel quite right - maybe Ed with a shark's tail? Someone else will have a brilliant idea I hope!

Going with Izzy's assumed conflict of self-actualization vs. self-sacrifice (and protection of others), the thing he needs to hear to bring him back would be something like "it wasn't your fault", "be happy" and "I/we want you in our lives but be your own person" (just a little more poetic maybe).

Conclusion: Izzy's purgatory will tell us something (harrowing I'm sure) about his past. Con's acting will be off the charts. We will want to thank him face-to-face (I've wanted to do that from the start, so...)

But Ed or Ed and Stede both will bring Izzy back - he'll thank them in his usual charming way and they'll live happily ever after <3.

Hope this wasn't too scrambled! Thoughts?

#ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 spoilers #Izzy's gravy basket > Izzy's revenge #if this doesn't happen now I'll be disappointed #I need to look into Iz's mind!#whatever happens we will cry in any case #con o'neill's eyes haven't been dry for weeks

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bratshaws · 1 year

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through the hourglass 145. brb x oc

a/n: ah fluff. my fucking ruin. (reblogs and comments are super encouraged <3)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: NONE THEY ARE CUTE THAT'S ALL

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/100/101/102/103/104/105/106/107/108/109/110/111/112/113/114/115/116/117/118/119/120/121/122/123/124/125/126/127/128/129/130/131/132/133/134/135/136/137/138/139/140/141/142/143/144

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva

“Where did that come from?”

Beatrice looks over her shoulder towards her husband who was lying on the bed wearing only his sweatpants - how does he not get cold was still a mystery to her - with his arms behind his head. After a second round in the shower both of them were tired but not enough to sleep, so they are chatting until the slumber comes by, “What do you mean?”

“Oh you know,” he shrugs, “You just acting all…dominant and bold and…nice.”

She stops rubbing the lotion on her skin to smile confusedly at him,”You liked that?”

“I’ve yet to find something about your that I don’t like,gorgeous.”

She laughs softly after placing the lotion bottle aside and slowly making her way over to him, adjusting her pajama pants over her hips and finally climbing on his lap, something that made their bodies shiver since everything was still so fresh, “You like me being more bold?”

“Course I do.”

“Really?”

He smirks, pulling his hands from behind his head to cup her ass cheeks through the pants and tilting his chin up so she could press a kiss on it, then on his lips, “Yes,I do.” he smiles, letting go of her ass to rub one of his hands against her face, “You are getting more confident,what’s not to love about that?”

“I just…well,I didn’t think you’d be into…letting that role go in the bedroom.”

“What role?”

She blinks, then shrugs,”Oh you know, you…kinda controls it- wait no that’s not the right word…you’d be uh…a top? I think,I’m more submissive.” her husband snorts in disbelief, ‘What?”

“There’s nothin’ submissive about you,gorgeous. Just because you let me take control means…that you just like me taking control because you feel comfortable. I don’t think that’d be the type of person you’d be.” he explains, twirling the end of her hair around his finger, “Cause you know what you want when you want. You are kinky when you need and want to be.”

Beatrice’s cheeks warmed up over his words,because he made sense - of course he did - and she leaned down to prop her chin on his pectorals, folding her arms underneath and leaning into his touch, “You are right.” she pauses, “You are just always kinky.”

He snorts, “When my wife is hot, what am I to do? Think ‘bout church or somethin’?”

“I love that your accent is coming out more.”

“Is it?”

“Mhm, it’s really cute.”

He chuckled, kissing her forehead and keeping his lips there for a few seconds as he sighs, the gust of air making her strands move and her eyes snap to his, “Nikki is fine,” he says after a while.”All of them are, actually. I think our daughter just doesn’t care about anything when she’s asleep.” he smiles more when he recalls that she just swatted his hand away when he touched her cheek and rolled to the side, clearly a grumpy sleeper who could care less if she was covered or not.

Beatrice smiles, then looks to the side for a second then back to his irises, “I think we are doing good…aren’t we?”

“As parents? Yeah.”

“I mean considering how we were when Nikki was still inside..what do you say? A good 70% growth?”

“What’s this, economics class?” he laughs, but sighs as he drops his head back down, “I think around 80% to be completely honest with you. For both of us.”

“Sooo…160%.”

“Yep.”

“That sounds fair.” she says with a small grin, keeping her head up with her hand under her jaw as she looks at him for a few seconds. “How do you feel though? You know with…everything?”

Rooster blinks at her for a few seconds, then he inhales as he thinks about it, ‘I feel like…life couldn’t be better.” he smirks, “Life is good,nice, life is…really good.I have the woman I love with me, we have kids together,dogs,a house…something younger me would never think about having.” he whispers, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, “All we need is for the two co-pilots to pop out and you know, maybe see if we can…pause for a bit.”

“Oh God,yes.” she breathes out, “That reminds me to call the clinic once we get back because I want to know if there’s a reason for the shot to fail like that.”

“Could be a one time thing,” he suggests with a shrug, “It’s not foolproof.”

“it’s not but I’d like to have sex with you without fearing that every time I’ll get pregnant.” she murmurs, resting her cheek on his chest as he slid his hand down her back, all the way down her ass and kept his palm over a cheek as they got quiet.

The wind was still howling, the snow only got heavier but he reassured her they wouldn’t be snowed in, not like last time. “You know what we need?” he asks suddenly, “Maple syrup.”

Beatrice’s brows furrow as she lifts her head, “Huh?”

“Yeah, for maple popsicles.” he smiles, “It’s delicious, you just dig in the snow and then you pour some maple syrup on it and you eat it. It’s so good,babe.”

She could say she was surprised but in reality she wasn’t, she had heard of that before but with honey instead. Her cousins in Italy did that. “...well, seems interesting, we can try that.” she tries to hold back her yawn but fails miserably, her eyes blinking heavily as she looks at him, “I’m gonna check on Nikki and then we should sleep.”

He smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her chin, tilting it upwards to their lips met, “Okay, you sure you can?” she nods as she slides off the bed, rubbing her eyes and shuffling out of the room to the hallway. Bradley just watches her until she’s gone and shakes his head with a tiny grin.

Beatrice yawns again, approaching Nicole’s room and peeking through the doorframe towards the crib. The dogs were still piled on top of each other, well,Eleanor was on top of Jack and Jolene was on the side,all of them snoozing peacefully. Beatrice smiles before walking into the room,rubbing her arms as she got closer to the crib.

Nicole was in a perfect starfish pose, her little arms up and her little legs spread as her Totoro onesie stretched over her tiny body, her long lashes touching her cheeks and Beatrice is so jealous at how deep Nicole’s sleep was. She couldn’t help but lean over the gate a little,pulling the blanket up to Nicole’s chin and that makes her daughter scrunch her face and wriggle a bit, “Sssh, it’s mama.” she coos, rubbing her small chest, “It’s okay, you don’t have to wake up.”

But she does wriggle a bit more before settling down and going back to her faithful slumber, making her mother sigh in relief as she kept looking at Nicole. This week has been wonderful, so far, and she couldn’t believe how lucky they were.

Just by the fact that Brad was home was a miracle in itself. “A Christmas Miracle.” she chuckled qietly, looking back at the dogs when she heard Eleanor whine in her sleep then going back to her snoozing baby.

She looks down at her wedding band with a small smile, closing her eyes as she thanks whoever put the two together because everything was going so well,so well that her brain sometimes didn’t know how to react. She was happy.

She was the happiest she’s ever been.

And nervous…because she knew that the second they came back her pregnancy was going to show. “God I already know how Shells will react.” more crying,maybe fainting, and a lot of screaming…she also had to break the news to Penny since it seemed she was on maternity leave just a few days ago instead of months.

“You’ll be a good older sister,Nikki.” she coos, smiling at her sleeping baby,”You’ll be amazing…just a few months apart too.” her daughter just turns her head the other way, clearly worried about sleeping more than seeing her mom.

She sighs as she pushes herself away from the gate, carefully stepping over the dogs to walk out of the room. She stands by the door for a few seconds, then furrows her brows as she stares at the crib, “...don’t grow up so soon.” her eyes drop to her stomach, “I’m talking to you too.” before she pushes the door to leave just a crack open.

She gets back into the bedroom and expected to see Rooster already asleep,but her husband was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her with that boyish smile on his face, “Roos.” she smiles, stepping closer to him, “You didn’t have to wait for me, I know you are tired too.”

“I can’t really sleep when you aren’t around and I’m close to you.” he whispers, “So…I wanted to wait for you.”

“Aw,Roos. You are sweet,too sweet.”

He hums happily, hugging her waist and kissing her stomach softly before looking up at her “Bed?”

“Hah!Yeah, bed.”

Beatrice is looking at her phone early that morning as she chews on a piece of toast, eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, “Roos!” she calls as her husband bounces Nicole in his arms after she had her breakfast, the little baby gurgling happily, “Roos, c’mere.”

“What?’ he playfully noms on Nicole’s tiny hands as he approaches Beatrice from behind, lowering their daughter to chest level and propping his chin on her shoulder, “What’s up?”

“I messaged the clinic.”

“Yeah?”

‘Yeah…they said I didn’t go there to take my last shot.”

He stops playing with Nicole to turn towards Beatrice, eyebrows up and arches in amusement, “Oh?”

“But I,” she opens her notes and looks for what she was looking for, “I had it written down,I…how did I not go?”

“Well,” he begins, changing Nikki to his opposite arm, his little girl hugging his neck, “You were busy with Marcus,babe…you could’ve forgotten.It happens.”

“I guess…” she chews her lower lip, “I think next time I’ll just ask them to call me if I don’t show up because I really don’t remember not taking it.”

Rooster hums as he lifts Nicole over his head and smiles when she starts gurgling happily, kicking her tiny legs and reaching towards him, “That’s okay…anyway!Ready?”

“For?”

“Another snow adventure.” he spreads his fingers on the air as if he’s putting on a banner and Beatrice chuckles softly, she’s not…that excited about going out in the snow but her husband is too happy for her to say no, “It’ll be fun,I promise.”

“Alright,fine.” she says, “Let me just put my boots on and finish this toast.”

“Can do.” he smirks, kissing her lips sweetly and waiting until she was out of sight to turn his shifty eyes to Nicole, “Nikki,dada has a secret,” he begins, “And you can’t tell mommy.”

“Aa?”

“Yes,” he looks back to see if Beatrice was truly gone before he whispers again,”I have a surprise for her, for the New Year…I think she’ll love it. And so will you.” he knows it was a risky thing to do something that Beatrice clearly had no idea about, but he managed to pull it off and she had no idea.

He even checked his phone briefly and opened his email, checking that yes, everything was going great and that he shouldn’t worry because all he had to do was wait. And the last day was tomorrow, so if everything was more than fine, he could spend time with Bea and Nikki…and the dogs.

He just wanted a fun time before being deployed.

The talking in the group chat was that the deployment was one hundred percent certain the second he gets back to California, everyone was mentally preparing for it. Hangman even asked him about what he did when Beatrice was pregnant and Rooster just said that he ‘did what he could’. He slips his phone back in his pocket before adjusting Nicole in his hold, kissing her forehead and smelling the cotton flower scent on her hair, his little girl babbling happily and playing with the hoodie strings.

It pained him to think that soon enough he’d have to go, he hated it, but he also had no choice. He told Mav about it, how he loved and hated some parts of his job now, especially when it came to Nicole and Bea. Hell he even asked how his father was during those times because his mother never said anything about it.

“He did what he could.” his uncle said, quietly, avoiding his gaze. The ‘until he couldn’t’ hang in the air like a dangerous pendulum ready to cut both of them in half if Pete dared to say a word about it again. Bradley just thanked him, quietly, and his uncle patted his shoulder with a “It’ll be alright,kid.”

Nicole brought the strings to her mouth to chew on it, “Ah!Nikki!No!’ breaking her father’s worried thoughts the second it happened. She just gurgled out a laugh and kept on biting that string as if it tasted like apple purée much for her father’s constant distraught, “Nikki!No,it’s dirty!’

“What’s going on?”

“Nikki is chewing on my hoodie string,no baby,” he wipes her mouth with his shirt and groans, opening it a bit, “God, thank fuck there’s nothing stuck in there, don’t do it honey, you just ate it too,I don’t know why you are just…hungry still.” Nicole gurgles again, almost as if she was telling her father to not worry and Rooster just smiled at her, kissing the tip of her nose, “You are cute just like your mama, that’s for sure.”

“Okay,I’m back.” Beatrice holds Nicole’s jacket up, “And I brought her jacket, thank God we kept the sweaters on the dogs and…what was happening?”

“She just…loved my hoodie.I guess.”

“Hm…alright..so what exactly did you have in mind for us today?”

“Oh…you’ll see.” he smirks, “It’ll be fun.”

Beatrice pursed her lips, the two of them changing Nicole on the couch - the little baby gurgled and babbled when her mother tied the little peruvian hat around her head, the colorful pom pom moving when she looked around - and then looked back at him, “Well, I’m sure you’ll make sure I’ll see the fun too considering it’s…really cold.”

“It is cold, but could be worse.”

“Oh God, don’t even joke about that.” she whispers, tugging her own hat harder on her head before even leaving the house. She just tucked her phone inside her jacket instead of leaving it in her pants, zipping Nicole’s jacket up to her neck as she looks up at him, “Are we going far?”

“Hmmm…a little.” he says, “But believe me, it’ll be worth it.” when his eyes softened, Beatrice just stared at him, “I haven’t been to that place since I was a child. And I hope it’s open, I mean, there has to be something else from my childhood I can show you.”

“You know I’ll love whatever you do.” she smiles, something about their…time together last night that made their connection get even stronger, she couldn’t explain. They already were part of each other before but…now, now it was like the cycle ended and it locked on them, she couldn’t really make much sense, their relationship in itself was almost…ethereal?

Her aunt said they were always meant to be together, even before meeting, so Beatrice really had to admit that maybe it was just their souls connecting?

Wow, she really was talking to her aunt way too much because now she was having those thoughts too.

“I know.” he smiles, offering her his hand, “Shall we?”

She grabs it while Nicole stays on her opposite arm, “We shall.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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fictionplumis · 8 months

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Because the first thing I do in any new fandom is reblog a bunch of art and then immediately think about AUs, and I know pretty much none of my followers know about this new guy I'm obsessed with but c'mon. Go on your app store or the fucking Switch store and do yourself a favor and play Sorcery! and romance the assassin. Anyway, how about a mer!AU for your troubles?

You would think the Analander would be the merperson in this one, since he's the magical one of the two, but nah. It's Flanker, with a sleek dark tail, always a shadow near the shore so he's just close enough to pull lone fisherman and swimmers down into the water for a meal. None who see him survive, and he especially distrusts any sorcerers near the shores, since they're often after something like him for their spell ingredients.

So when some Analander is poking around, well...

He's hungry and a spellcaster is usually useless under the water, too busy trying to struggle for the surface, falling further and further away from their precious stars.

Unfortunately for him, this one has a sword and enough sense to grab for it. Flanker almost drowns them, but then a blade is cutting through the water and it becomes an actual fight in the depths.

And it's fun. Flanker hasn't had a challenge like this in a long time. It's thrilling, up until the damn Analander gets in a good swing, and more after that, until Flanker realizes his mistake and ah, well... Seems like this is the end, this spellcaster will get his ingredients after all.

The Analander doesn't finish him off right away. He goes up for air, then swims back down to grab him and pull him, barely able to resist, up onto the shoreline. And then strangely asks if he speaks Analandish or any of the common hill languages, followed by wondering if he'll be already long enough out of the water for his wounds to be tended to.

Now Flanker isn't a really a "people person" for one of his kind. Most live in schools or pods or whatever, they're social creatures, but Flanker doesn't have one of those. He's pretty much out there himself. It's safer, y'know? Too many of his kind, and people wonder why there are so many disappearances along the shoreline. And he's fine with, Flanker thrives on his own.

Or so he tells himself.

But now he has this Analander sorcerer showing up all the time to sit on the rocks with their feet in the water, trying to talk to him. They bring food, and ramble about their studies, and they even go out there at night to practice their spells or to practice their sword forms during the day.

Flanker could ignore him, but he owes this person his life, technically.

At first he merely gives the sorcerer a glimpse that he exists. Just a flash of a dark tail breaching the water at first, or he'll watch the Analander with just his eyes peeking over the surface of the water, listening...

The Analander is friendly. He always seems happy when Flanker gives him the smallest acknowledgement.

He has a nice voice, too... It's not grating to listen to him ramble, even if Flanker is woefully ignorant about sorcery.

It's a slow process. The Analander knows he's succeed when Flanker cautiously approaches one day, only to duck under the water, grab their foot, and drag them into the water. They come up sputtering and get their first taste of a deep, rich laugh before Flanker ducks under the water and darts off and they realize that he has a sense of humor.

They actually start talking after that, Flanker becoming more and more comfortable propping himself out of the water to talk with his strange new friend. He's stolen some dice off some sailors after watching them play a few rounds of Swindlestones, which is a decent way to pass the time between curious questions passed between the two about their respective people.

No idea what the actual conflict would be but let's face it, I dig the whole we have completely different anatomies, let's explore each other in increasing inappropriate ways.

#sorcery game #flanker sorcery #inkle sorcery!#steve jackson's sorcery #analander

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whoiwanttoday · 2 years

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We are now almost a week into the Halloween season by my Calendar. Now, look, I try to keep Halloween in my heart all year round and all but some people find it obnoxious if you're too obvious about it, so for me September 15th is when it really starts. I keep the decorations inside until then and so on. Anyway, we are well in now and I am 7 movies in to my Halloween Movie watching and that includes a Scooby Doo movie because I am a person of supreme taste. It's also why I am posting Daphne instead of Velma because I am a person of taste rather than a follower. See, someone will reblog or comment on this because they do every time to say that Velma is hotter. Someone once told me they prefer Velma because they aren't really into obvious hot girls. Which, let's just go ahead and say it, is pathetic. Modulating who you are attracted to to seem interesting? Sorry, not sorry. Besides the fact that there is no reason to tear down one to prop up the other (but I get it, they are women and you're a free thinker so you are engaging in the age old practice of pitting two women against each other) I also want to point out that the most common take on the internet about Scooby Doo is that, "Velma is the hot one". This has been true since the 90's. Because it's an idea lots of internet hipsters have had to seem interesting. Also, they don't watch Scooby Doo. I hate to be that person but there is no way you actually watch and have opinions on this shit because if you did you'd know that in roughly 25% of the Scooby Doo movies that exist out there one of the plot points is that everyone thinks Velma is the hot one to the surprise of Velma and Daphne. It was a running joke in the one I watched last night where someone would say, "You got that right, Beautiful," and Daphne would say, "I didn't say anything". Velma would blush, they would indicate they meant her, big yucks. So given it is a common take built into the show, it is less unique than you think it is. Anyway, Velma is great if a bit too know it all depending on the writing. Last night's was great though, everyone is great. Why is Daphne great? Cause she tries and she's a good friend. She saved Fred's life, she supported Velma and encouraged her to embrace her hotness, she wore little shorts and a tied off top. Look, there is a reason why in the dark years she stuck around with Scooby and Shaggy, someone had to take care of those clowns. Without Daphne poor Scooby and Shaggy would be dead somewhere, dogs aren't meant to eat that much human food and frankly neither are people. Someone had to keep them in check. Also just... I am socially well adjusted and have no problem responding to the obvious social signals that Daphne is the hot one, it's why I have been attracted to her since I was 2 years old. Today I want to fuck Daphne Blake.

#Daphne Blake #redhead #fictional #whoiwanttofucktoday

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loregoddess · 2 years

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@seanorib this is honestly all the motivation I need to make a very long post about character designs, I'm including dads who got designs from Houses as well bc damn if I don't have opinions on those too (cut for length):

Fathers of the Black Eagles:

Ionius IX: This is what I picture when I hear "revenant" pronounced in its native French, this guy looks like a zombie but like, a fancy zombie, a revenant. His design sparked an entire theory post about the Agarthans and their blood experiments on Lysithea and Edelgard and it was fantastic, if I ever unearth it from the hell of my drafts I will reblog it bc it was a great theory post, and made me appreciate this fucker's design while giving me a reason to want to set him on fire aside from "I don't like his vibes". Looks like he could be related to Edelgard, so props there.

A+ design, but potentially an F in being a dad.

Ludwig: Looks more like a greedy rich merchant than a corrupt duke, full outfit wasn't included here but it should be way more opulent and decadent than it is. I hate that pathetic excuse of a mustache and will set it aflame myself if someone else doesn't beat me to it. Design loses points bc his outfit is red and he's a redhead, I cannot stress enough how much better blue or green or even purple would have worked with his hair. Does NOT look like he's related to Ferdinand in the slightest, outside of hair and eye color.

C- design, F in being a dad.

Leopold: Looks like a Tekken character, he has the Mishima eyebrows, even that goofy armor wouldn't be out of place in Tekken, I am not convinced he didn't get lost on his way to Tekken. Also he's short, I cannot stress how short this guy looks in cutscenes. Armor's a bit goofy, but he looks like a wise warrior who has seen many, many battles, and somehow despite not looking too much like Caspar, I can buy him being Caspar's dad bc he's so fucking short.

A+ design but only bc I like Tekken, A in being a dad so far as I can tell but I'm not to the end of Scarlet Blaze yet.

Waldemar: As covered in my previous post, this guy looks like an undead toad, or undead Muppet, whichever. I haven't even been able to pay attention to his characterization or the rest of his design bc his face is so weird looking that I get stuck on that. Props for not having round glasses I guess. Doesn't look related to Linhardt outside of the hair color, I think Fodlan's genetics run on the same logic as Awakening and Fates genetics.

?? design bc it's horrid but also hilarious, ?? in being a dad bc again, I just haven't seen enough of him to know.

Gregoire: Looks like a dad (derogatory). One of the most dad-looking dads in this game, but his portrait here has the sinister undertones that I can only describe as dad (derogatory). He's a coward in-game though, I have no idea how this spineless wet rag managed to traumatize Bernadetta so badly. His mustache somehow works despite being the exact same as Ludwig's, but the Elvis hairdo is unnerving. Does kinda look related to Bernadetta though.

B design, F- in being a dad and also a person.

Volkhard: Not a dad, but an uncle, so close enough. Looks like a vampire. Major vampire energy. I know he's dead and it's someone else wearing his skin in both games, but this dude has so much vampire going on that he might as well have lost on his way to a Castlevania ripoff (does not have quite the same vampire energy as an Ayame Kojima vampire).

A+ design, ?? in being a person bc again, this guy is actually basically undead.

Fathers of the Blue Lions:

Lambert: I hate this man's excuse of a beard so much. The rest of his design is Fine, he's got a generic blond fantasy king look but it's not a bad generic look, but that beard has to go. He looks related to Dimitri so, props again.

A- design, ?? in being a dad bc being dead makes parenting very hard.

Rufus: Not a dad, uncle again, but can you believe this fucker is related to Lambert? He looks like if you mixed the words "revenant" and a "draugr", and he looks even more undead as a fully animated 3D model. Are his bangs gelled back or is that supposed to be stylized long hair swept back? Who allowed him to choose that beard shape? Why is his armor so boring if he's trying to wrest the throne from Dimitri by force, you're royalty get some fancy fucking armor.

C design, F in being a person.

Rodrigue: I surprisingly don't have complaints about his design. The facial hair's a bit weird, but considering some of the other offenders, I'm letting it slide. Surprisingly looks related to Felix.

A+ design, B+ in being a dad.

Lonato: Dad by proxy. This is one of the most "is a knight" looking knight characters in either game. Fantastic mustache, the rest of the design is fine, a bit generic for the armor, but fine otherwise.

A design, D+ in being a dad (SB might, weirdly enough, raise that score).

Mattias: That's just some guy. That is literally the most "just some guy"-looking design I have ever seen in my life. He's just...a generic guy, he doesn't even have dad-energy, he doesn't even have dude-energy, what am I supposed to do with someone this generic? I guess props for having an interesting nose shape, but considering how many characters suffer same-nose syndrome in this game the bar for that isn't hard to pass. Does look related to Miklan, does not look related to Sylvain which makes me wonder what each of their mothers looked like.

C design, C- in being a dad but only barely above a D+.

Gustave/Gilbert: If you took a "is a knight, looks like a generic knight" approach and crossed it with a "looks like a wet mop" approach to a character design, I think this would be it. The orange accents are a weird choice, re: my rant on Ludwig. Does kinda look related to Annette, but I'm assuming she took after her mom.

B+ design, C in being a dad.

Father...of the Golden Deer:

Erwin: Somehow--SOMEHOW--fits all my mental assumptions and biases for "crafty duke who takes being a noble too seriously and imparted that anxiety onto his son and heir". Looks like a duke, looks like he's related to Lorenz, even his armor which is kinda generic is so purple that I can't assume it belongs to anyone but a noble. I hate the purple-on-purple look the armor and his hair have going on, but the excessive purple does evoke a sense of regality even if it's too much purple (I'll save my rant for purple-hair characters and their disaster outfit's for another post, bc there isn't a single purple-haired character in all of Fodlan who gets a good outfit color palette). The weird little diadem thing is an odd addition, but this is the most "dad who looks both related to his child(ren) and looks to fit the role he is assigned on the game" design of any of the dads.

A+ design, uh...B+ in being a dad bc he wasn't actually as bad as I was expecting him to be.

Bonus Round:

Jeralt: I haven't forgiven his design ever since I first drew his hair. It's fine actually, even the color palette isn't technically bad, but I hate everything about his hair and his beard, they're so fucking hard to draw . Looks like a mercenary though, so props, does not look related to Byleth but we actually do get a design for their mom and Byleth does take after the mom, which leads me to believe that all the moms are gorgeous and that's why IntSys decided we couldn't have them.

A- design bc it's fine technically, B in being a dad.

Alois: Technically a dad even if we never get to see his family and the Hopes writers entirely forgot about his family. I have no complaints about his design, not even his mustache, this is a decent design. This is also the best armor design on this entire post, in fact this is the ONLY good armor design on this post.

A+ design, ?? in being a dad bc the writers love to not tell us anything.

Seteth: Dad who's status as a dad is the worst-kept secret in Fodlan. The only design with an unnatural hair color that has an outfit that doesn't completely clash with said unnatural hair color. His hair looks better on the model than in the portrait image. I still hate whatever is going on with those sleeves. Can you imagine going into battle wearing that? All the sweat is gonna show through that white. Mixed feelings about the beard. Looks like he could be related to Flayn but mostly bc of the green hair.

A design, A- being a dad.

#I spent too much time writing this but I love nothing more than silly rants about character designs #oracle of lore

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mrsandypants · 2 years

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Tag Game: Reveal Your Blogging Style

I was tagged by the precious pumpkin pie @gunsatthaphan ! Thank you sweet pea! I needed a little distraction! 😊

different blogs for different interests OR all-in-one blog (I use to have a few separate blogs to avoid spamming my mutuals with things they might not be too fond of... but I just don't have the time for that anymore... So I'm sorry sweet peas!)

default theme OR custom theme (Although, I would like to change it up eventually but I like being able to use a search box function so who knows. Pfft.)

one username till death OR change username according to mood/obsession (I have always used some version of Andy and Pants or Pantaloons so I suppose I'm just attached / use to it.)

round avatar OR square avatar (Honestly just depends. I'm not particular about this one.)

personal avatar OR fandom related avatar

thematic consistency between header image and avatar OR who gives a fuck (I'm honestly not too bothered but I commend people who put in that effort. It looks gorgeous)

reblog without tags OR reblog with tags (I like giving props to the creators and bloggers on the app and tagging to keep track of things. I just want everyone to know how much I appreciate them, and avoid bugging people with my all-in-one blog as much as I can...)

category tags only OR personal commentary in tags (Absolutely both here. I categorize to keep track and fangirl panic as well. Pfft)

like+reblog OR only reblog (Give props and reblog! Shove all the love at tumblr users!)

replies allowed on posts OR replies switched off (On the off chance anyone replies, I love a little conversation. 😊)

askbox open OR askbox closed (Always open for a chat!)

anons allowed OR anons blocked (I don't mind if someone wants to stay anon. I'm just happy to chat at all.)

respond to every mention in replies OR be a hermit (Honestly love responding or talking to mutuals / friends... I just enjoy getting to know others and chatting.)

a quiet observer and enjoyer OR initiate conversation with an unknown blogger (I try to initiate but also feel intrusive if I keep doing it... I don't want to be a bother...)

send ask OR send message on chat OR converse with people in replies (I'm usually FAR too shy to message but love sending an ask or responding... 😊)

blog from computer/laptop OR blog from phone (I spend so little time on my phone. I can't imagine blogging from it honestly... Browsing sure. But not blogging...)

personal posts OR fandom posts only (Mostly fandom but if I need to rant a little bit I feel more comfortable doing that here than say twitter.... Feels like talking to myself but that's okay.)

have a well organized filled queue OR post intermittently and make it everybody else's problem OR post daily like it's a 9 to 5 (Really I just post when I have downtime... Which isn't terribly often...)

likes and following displayed on blog OR likes and following hidden (I think it's just a hot mess so really not being able to see my likes is probably for the best, pfft.)

Thank you for the little distraction lovely. Would be a treat to hear from these lovelies tagged below but don't feel like you need to! I just appreciate you all!

@feeling-woozi @jaywoninthespotlight @maklineluv @musicalgrl

If any of my mutuals find this and are not tagged, let me know! @ me so I can see it!!

#Pants Rants #Ask Game #Tag Game #Thank you for the tag sweet pea!

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twobraincellkentwell · 6 months

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Blood In The Water

[A Game Called Revenge]

Part Fifteen

Series Masterlist Part One.

Summary: "ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪᴄᴋᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ."

Let the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games begin. With Blood.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the nature of content in some of the chapters. Murder and death. Mentions of sex probably.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Goooooodddddd eveninggggg. Firstly I want to just say my usuals, I have a favourite line so if you can find it then let me know :) reblogs, shares and comments always appreciate.

Secondly, we have things to discuss.... I MET ALEXANDER MOTHERFUCKING LUDWIG AND I DID NOT EMBARRASS MYSELF. REPEAT. I will literally never shut up about it, honestly one of the best days of my life. HE WAS AN ANGEL. I ALSO MET DANIELLE CAMPBELL! She was the sweetest and she told me I looked lovely. Our conversation was really brief but she was an absolute gem, I love her.

Long notes I know but if you want to see my pictures (they both looked so beautiful) then head over to my instagram @thechaoticasgardian, they're all on there hehe anyway enjoy the bloodbath.

Finnick’s head resurfaces from under the water and he propels himself forward, the water rippling and foaming as he slices his arms through the water with incredible force; forcing the spray to mark his path on the rocky spokes to the right of him. In the distance she can see a blur of blonde hair that can only be Cashmere in the water, and to the other side she sees Gloss pushing his way up onto the spokes and giving her a questioning look. None of their bodies have convulsed from being exposed to the water. They're alive. The water is safe.

Spinning to her left and diving diagonally from the platform, she breaks through the surface like an arrow piercing its mark. The water is surprisingly warm, and she ignores the burn in her eyes as the salt flows into the organs and pushes through a few powerful strokes until she reaches the rocky strip to pull herself up. Blinking the salt away, her feet find the flat surface of the rocks, slightly slippery from the sand but dry considering that the only other person in reach of the spoke, Peeta, is still yet to venture into the water. She runs. Runs for her life towards the supplies in the middle of the cornucopia. As she whizzes around the back of the cornucopia to reach the stockpile she notes the placement of a long baton further inside the horned structure and a flail propped up against the side of the building. She grabs the stout metal handle, weighing the weapon in her hands as she quickly examines the chain for any weak links - the last thing she wants is for the spiked metal head to come flying off towards her as she swings it. She starts to round the corner of the structure but comes face to face with the woman from Ten. The woman’s face freezes. She turns pale all of a sudden as she takes a panicked step backwards, turning on her heels to try and escape. A butterfly knife slices blindly through the air as the woman strides forward in fear and she tries to catch Clio’s skin behind her with the blade. She doesn’t get very far, maybe a few steps at most until she is yanked back by her topknot and dragged back around the cornucopia. A swing of the knife lands a superficial gash on Clio’s right tricep as the woman thrashes violently to free herself from the girl’s hold. She’s unsuccessful as Clio tugs her even harsher than before and slams the woman into the back wall of the cornucopia.

“Where’s your Romeo, huh?” Clio taunts, referring to the woman’s husband. The man who she came up next to as she rose into the arena and who is still standing on his platform, eyes trained on the water in front of him. “Oh, there he is, like a sitting duck, just waiting to be killed.”

Keeping her right arm pressed across the woman’s chest, she throws her left in the air, the sound of metal clashing together ringing through the air as the spiked ball hits the chain links. “Oi Ten! Romeo! Yoohoo!”

The man’s head snaps up at the the sound of her voice, eyes blown out as he stares in shock at the maniacal girl waving a flail carelessly above her head. Did I guess his name right? She thinks, laughing to herself of the desperate pleas that ripple against the water, head whipping around, looking between the couple from Ten and making sure no one is trying to sneak up behind her.

“Ooh, is his name actually Romeo?” She asks the woman, hand moving from her chest to slap at her wrist so that the knife falls from her grasp and she can kick it aside and out of the woman’s reach.

“D-d-dorset…” The woman stutters, stumbling over her words in fear that telling the shorter woman her husband’s name will harm him in the long run. “His name’s Dorset.”

“Oh that’s so ugly , I think I’ll stick to calling him Romeo for the next hour. You know until you’re both dead.” She insults her.

“I won’t. He will-”

“Oh, honey. He’s not coming to help you.” Clio says slowly, nodding her head in his direction, where the man is still frozen in horror on his platform. “He doesn’t love you. If he did then he’d be swimming over right now but look, he’s not moving, like he’s one of those cattle you heard. Except he’s not going to last those six days, because we’re going to kill him slowly, intimately, in every way we know you fear. It’s such a shame you won’t get to see it, I would love to see the look on your face when I slice your knife down his abdomen. He’ll see it though, he’ll wake just long enough to see my good work and when he screams, I’ll use your knife to split his skull. He still hasn’t moved, I thought you two wanted to be together when you go?”

The woman nods weakly, clawing at Clio’s arm, still pressing her up against the cornucopia; making the younger tribute laugh at her attempts. “He’s not even trying to come and save you. So much for love.”

“You’re sick.” The woman spits, “The two of you parade around but you know nothing about love, the fact that you’re so happy to be in here together tells me all I need to know.”

“Oh, no. We’re willing to die for each other.” She goads. “And more importantly, willing to kill to get the other out.”

Adjusting her grip on the handle, she tilts her body with her left shoulder forwards and lifts the flail into the air, swinging the weapon down diagonally. The spiked metal ball embeds itself into the woman’s chest and a short shriek leaves her lips before Clio pulls at the chain and swings again. Keeping the weapon moving, she extends her swinging arm as the speed of each swing increases and the spikes rip gashes into the woman’s arms and torso. An agonised scream leaves both her lips and her husband’s. Still on his platform, the man can only watch as his wife gets bludgeoned to death, wanting desperately to look away and retreat into the jungle but instead he’s frozen in shock. In some sort of trance, Clio keeps swinging, crazed with both bloodlust and the memories of her first games. After a while, the woman’s body falls limp and slides down the wall of the cornucopia, almost folding in half with the amount of cuts and lying flat on her back in a crimson pool. The spikes find her exposed chest and neck, over and over and over again. Blood sprays into her face, dripping from her chin and the tip of the nose as she leans forward; the hazel of her eyes no longer visible underneath the pure black blown out pupils honing extreme rage.

“Remember who the real enemy is!”

Finnick’s voice snaps her from her trance as the end of her flail lodges itself into the woman’s flesh for the last time. She’s covered in warm blood that is beginning to congeal around her eyes, long trails running from her face as she drops the handle and takes in the condition of the woman in front of her - what’s left of her anyway. The skin of her neck and face has lifted from her body, parts of it still stuck to the spikes of her weapon. The woman is unrecognisable, she knows that much. How long have I been out and distracted for? She questions herself but she knows it can’t be that long given that the man on the platform drags his now tear filled eyes from hers and slides himself into the water before finally retreating into the jungle away from the clashing of metal and bodies. The real enemy? She thinks. Shit. Katniss. I was supposed to take out Katniss.

She steps over the body of the man from Nine, who still has blood spurting from the three holes in his chest, to round the side of the cornucopia. To her left she spots Finnick, with Mags clutching at his back, running into the jungle. Followed by Katniss and Peeta.

“Fuck!” She screams, running down the nearest spoke and aims the butterfly knife she took from underneath her first kill at the back of fire girl’s head, where she knows the knife will pierce right through her brain and exit in the space between her eyes. As she releases, Finnick turns back just in time and instructs their little group to duck. He gives just enough warning for them to throw themselves to the floor and have the blade fly past them, lodging itself into the trunk of the large tree behind them. She goes to prep another, before realising she only stole one knife from the woman and the other weapons nearby are for short range combat. Finnick shoots her a look as he rises to his feet. Some kind of plea before they run into the dense foliage and leave her to kick at the rocks in a sulk.

As she storms back down to the middle of the rocky island, one of the female tributes on the floor is still trying to fight despite being practically disembowelled, trying to stab at Clio’s ankle with a small combat knife as she steps over her. She prevents it by slamming her left foot down on the woman arm, pinning it to the rocks beneath. Desperately trying to free her hand, she hits Clio in the arm, in which she retaliates by dropping to a kneel, slamming her joint into her chest and ripping the knife from her palm before plunging it into her windpipe. Raising to her feet, she takes another step towards the metal structure before her name is called in warning, “Clio!”

She lifts her head and watches the man from Five lunge at her with a curved boning knife. Using her right to catch his wrist mid way through the motion, she brings a fist to meet his face using her left before taking hold of the knife arm with both hands when he recoils. She snaps it at the forearm. He howls in pain, letting the knife drop from his grip. She kicks the knife aside carefully to where she can see Cashmere in her peripheral vision. Twisting around with the man’s arm in her tight grip, she grapples him over her shoulder using all her force and feeling his dislocate at the propulsion over hers. He screams in more pain as he slams onto the bloodied, rocky floor, narrowly missing grabbing Clio’s ponytail on his descent. She takes a step forward as she turns, watching as Cashmere picks up where she left off; pulling the long, curved knife from the man’s abdomen. Plunging it in several times, she watches the man twitch like a gutted fish as the knife pulls part of his intestines from his stomach cavity.

Gloss convenes with them, walking around from the tail end of the cornucopia and pulling the woman from Nine behind him. “Volts ran straight into the jungle. So did Blight.”

“Nuts went the other way with Johanna.” Cashmere says, pointing to the right of the cornucopia.

“Where’s Finnick?” Cato questions as he wipes the tip of his sword and looks around the arena, trying to find the fifth member of their alliance.

“In there.” Clio seethes. “He helped Katniss dodge my knife and then ran away with the fucking frauds.”

“Mags?” Cashmere asks quietly.

“Alive.” Clio responds. “But I say we go after them.”

“Not yet.” Gloss laughs, “I’ve saved this one for last. Thought we could take turns making a spectacle out of her; maybe show the nation what happens when you give up.”

Gloss shoves the woman onto the floor, stopping her attempts to dart away from them. She lands flat on her back, quickly sitting up and using her arms to shuffle backwards. The older woman looks up at the four young careers, fear in her eyes as she shakes her head and pleads for them to make it quick; citing that she knows she’s not getting out of the arena alive but she just wants to spare her friends and family and the orphaned children she reads to in Nine from watching a gruesome death. When she hears the leader of their alliance instruct her to ‘pick her poison’, she looks between them all. A spear in Gloss’ hand. A large, curved knife in Cashmere’s. Cato wields a long silver sword like an extension of his arm. Whilst Clio holds a long metal baton with one hand and a small, fillet knife with the other. When she stutters, stumbling over her choices, Clio launches the knife in her left hand directly into the space between the woman’s eyes in a moment of impulse. The woman is dead in seconds as her body collapses to the ground.

“What?” She asks when the siblings protest. “She wanted to die quickly, and besides what the point of making a show out of some cannon fodder from Nine when we can save that for the real threats.”

“You’ve still got it.” Cato teases her as the four of them begin to walk to the centre of the cornucopia in search of some food and some freshwater.

“So do you.” She responds, pointing at the male morphling who has a giant slash mark spanning the length of his chest as he lays motionless on his back.

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emotionalstressball · 2 years

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I posted 53 times in 2022

That's 39 more posts than 2021!

34 posts created (64%)

19 posts reblogged (36%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@but-imagine-if-they-did-say-that

@thememedaddy

@toots-senpai

@smutty-ki113r

@mens-rights-activia

I tagged 52 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#meme - 20 posts

#creepypasta - 18 posts

#meirl - 13 posts

#eyeless jack - 13 posts

#fanfiction - 8 posts

#jeff the killer - 8 posts

#lol - 7 posts

#eyeless jack x reader - 7 posts

#creepypasta fanfics - 7 posts

#proxies - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 60 characters

#somebody with art skills better than me wanna draw please??

My Top Posts in 2022:

Daisy [E.J. x Reader

-got some horror coming up in this bitch-

[IIII] -Author Note: ooooh~-

Feelings.

Something I don’t really like expressing, ever. Whenever I had a cut as a kid I didn’t want to bother my parents so I’d suck it up try to get a band-aid. So now when I’m in this circle with a people I don’t know, I’m scared.

I’m in a feel circle. For the next five minutes or so we have to sit and talk about our feelings. Taking turns in a circle. “Y/N” my name is called. “Hm” I hum looking up. “Y/N. . .this is the third time, are you ok?” she asks. “yeah” I mutter. “How do you feel?” she asks. “fine” I mutter. “Y/N could you elaborate please?” she asks. I shake my head and go sit in one of the couches moved to the side. The lady sighs and moves on to the next person.

”You can’t run forever” A voice whispers. Well actually two, The Burrly Twins. I almost jump from my seat. “I can see things others don’t, I can see you running” they say leaning into my face. “We won’t tell anyone, as long as you promise to do what we say”. They’re practically breathing down my neck at this point. “U-um” I glance at McCathe who’s laughing with some kids. “Y/N~” they say in a sing-songy tone. “Rose, Elena! Leave the poor girl alone” the instructor says. My literal saving grace.

Rose and Elena sneer at the poor woman and walk away. I lay there for a moment in shock. Running? Running from what?

The circles break and McCathe saunters over to me. “Sooooo. . .what were you and the Twins talkin’ ‘bout?” she asks. Propping up her elbow on the arm of the couch. “I don’t know, if it was a talk. . .” I mutter. “Don’ worry she does that to all the newcomers. Ya know, threats and stuff”. “Yeah but. . .never mind, it’s fine” I say sitting up. Rubbing my temples with my middle and forefinger. “Well anyway, the rest of the day is free, wanna hang?” McCathe asks. “You mean like suicide or-“, “oh fuck no! I mean like hang out!” McCathe basically screeches. “haha yeah, right”.

Me and McCathe Geeror were more or less friends. I was surprised to find out she was very athletic, I guess I never paid attention to her. She was pretty basic, like her name could be Bethany and some common last name. She had a six pack, and her muscles rippled when she ran around the small track. Her hair was cut short, shoulder length. And she had round brown eyes that look like pure milk chocolate when the light hit them. We sat down in the grass. The sun was setting as we sipped on our water bottles.

“So basically,” I said. “Everybody has caught Roxanne and Michelle kissing?” I ask. “Yessss, there we go, my little gossip student!” McCathe exclaims. “‘Cathe you’re crazy” I mutter. A soft smile gracing my face as she stares down at me in awe. “Well, kinda the reason I’m here sweet pea” she laughs. Laying her head next to mine.

“N/N?”.

“hm?”.

”How ‘bout. . .we check out that forest?”.

9 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

Daisy [E.J x Reader]

-chapter one because it doesn’t sit well with me leaving ya’ll with just a prologue-

[I] -author note: The chapters are numbered by Roman Numerals.-

We arrive at the destination.

A tall grey building with a flat roof. Surrounded by trees and trees. Pine and Oak being the prominent tall plants. There’s a woman out front. Her hair neatly tied up in bun, a dead look in her eyes as she stands and waits. How long has she been standing there? It’s in the middle of the night. The lights are on in some rooms up on the top floor. The building is looming and dark and. . . and scary.

I suppose you’d be confused as to why I’m being sent to Rosswells House for the Mentally Ill. (Pronounced: rose-wells. Stupid) Well I beat up this girl, bully. I think she’s still in the hospital. Anyway. It was turning cold, the leaves were already dying. This girl that is- that was in most of my classes (even though it didn’t matter if she wasn’t) made my life living hell. Her name was Annabelle Doobly. (Pronounced: Doo-ble. Stupid)

Tall with wavy blonde hair and and bubblegum pink strands of hair in the front. And she always wore these really tight crop tops with skirts, or shorts on the bottom. I won’t lie, she was hot. Like urban high school Regina George hot. And as much as she was pretty she was evil though. Because one day, on that cursed day, Annabelle The Asshole burned my schoolbooks, along with my homework (that was due that day), backpack, and toiletries. And if you’re wondering: How did she burn that shit without the sprinklers going off? She left her class, broke into my locker and burned it outside (Which is also bad for the environment so double fuck her). I met her in the hall when it was lunchtime. Well didn’t really meet her because I sort of, stomped up like a raging bull. I grabbed her by the hair and threw her down. Holding her down while everyone in school watched because I had nothing left to lose anyway I was gonna fail almost every class in one sitting.

It took one punch and then I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t just fed up with her BS, my parents just went through with divorce, my Aunt (who turned out to be my cousin) died two days ago. It was a lot, and now I hate myself more than I hate Annabelle The Astronomical Dumb Bitch (name created by my classmates) because I was no better than her. I took my feelings, my insecurities out on her. I blacked out. I only came back when three teachers and seven students who didn’t have their phones out pulled me off her. My knuckles were bloody and cut a little and I was still punching where her face would be. That’s when I saw my Mom, angry as fuck.

Anyway. That’s why I’m at Rosswells House for the Mentally Ill. Because I guess in some cases I am.

My mom grabbed my suitcase from the trunk as I reluctantly left the passenger side. It was like she was rushing me to leave, like she didn’t want me here. But I guess I should take in account her cousin dying and Dad filing for divorce. You know because he found another woman who was twenty-five and single like my mom. And you know, maybe she’s like this because I’m leaving. Maybe.

But I guess I’ll never know because by the time I feel like asking she’s driven off and this lady. This pencil thin lady with her dead stare and tight bun, leads me inside the building.

11 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

Daisy [E.J x Reader]

-i’m gonna put a link to chapters and a link to the one on Quotev-

[III] -Author Note: . . .enjoy.-

We go to sit down at table after getting our food. Mashed potatoes, peas or green beans, and what’s supposed to be steak. “. . .and that’s Josh and Amanda” she points discretely. “Hm” I hum. “Are you even listening?” McCathe asks. “Josh. . . Amanda” I mutter poking at my food. “AND Roxanne n’ Michelle who are totally into each other but don’ wanna say nothin’ because their parents are really stric’ Catholics” McCathe blurts out like it’s important. “And like, how the forest her is haunted, but nobody gives a fuck” she whispers. I lean in. “Haunted?” I asks. “Well, less haunted, and more. . . inhabited” she says. Her voice getting lower. “Anybody who’s ever gon’ into the forest has never not came out scared half to death, or, found dead”. McCathe says. Grinning creepily.

“wow” I mutter. “Yeah, it’s crazy” she says. Shoveling a spoon full of mashed potatoes in her mouth. “How come they don’t have breakfast food?” I ask eating some (peas/green beans). “I don’t know, it was like this when I got here” she says messing with her so-called-steak pieces with her spoon.

“I’m not eating this” she says dropping her spoon on her plate. “yeah” I mutter and do the same. The pencil thin lady from before, walks around the cafeteria picking up plates. “who’s she?” I whisper. Nodding my head over in the lady’s direction. “That’s Ms. Posherbumble” McCathe says. “We call her Miss Bumblebee for fun because she’s always hovering” she snickers. Ms. Posherbumble walks over to our table. “It seems you ladies have gotten along well, are you done eating” she says. A sort of, fake looking smile is on her face. She does not pass the vibe check.

“Yeah, we’re done” I say glancing at McCathe to confirm. “Mhm” she hums and nods her head. “Ok then, thank you and head towards the sitting area.” Ms. Posherbumble says gathering our cups and plates and walking off into the kitchen. “She is like a bumblebee” I say laughing lightly. “yeah. . .but anyway we nee’ to go to the sittin’ area”. McCathe says getting up out of her seat. I follow suit and we walk-well I follow her to the sitting room.

McCathe is strange. But she knows things, that might come in handy. And you know, she isn’t so bad.

12 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

Daisy [E.J x Reader]

-lil story from Quotev, I post chapters there first-

[Prologue] -Author note: start of a new series, deleteing some Tumblr posts. . .-

I sat in my garden. Butterflies, mainly Monarch, fluttering from flower to flower. The sun beaming onto my (skin color) skin. I lay there for god knows how long. This would be my calmest moment if it weren’t for my circumstances. The grueling and dark circumstances.

I sit up. Willing myself to hop on my feet. The grass tickling my toes as I walk to the sliding screen door. I open the door and walk inside the house. The aroma of flowers. Lily of the Valley, Hyacinth, and Lavender. My bare feet walk across the polished floorboards. Across the living room to the front door.

Maybe I shouldn’t be this calm?

My mom is sitting on the bench next to the front door. Her face dark and twisted with worry. “I’m ready.” I say. My voice quiet, barely audible. “Y/N you know I love you”. Mom says getting up to try and give me a hug. I take a step back. “Right.”, I respond. My tone cold and slightly harsh. I look away from her. Breaking her heart even more. “You need help, I’m getting you help”. she says her voice cracking, trying not to cry. I ignore her. “I’m getting in the car”. I grab my suitcase and walk out the door. My black suitcase with (favorite animal) stickers all over it bumps up and down over the gravel drive way. The tiny rocks dig into my skin as I walk.

I pop the trunk and press down the handle on my suitcase. Lifting it up and sliding it into the trunk before closing it. I walk around to the side and open the car door. Getting into the passenger side. The stars twinkle, and the moon shines brighter than usual. Illuminating the walk between the front door and the car. My gaze travels up to the porch steps. Expecting my mom to walk out any second.

But she doesn’t. Instead I wait fifteen long minutes. Either she’s punishing me before my “punishment” or she’s crying. I assume number two automatically when she walks out. Eyes puffy and red, nose twitching when she sniffles. Tears still falling out of her eyes every now and again.

Maybe in a different life, a different universe, a different timeline even, I wouldn’t have been sent away. I wouldn’t be holding back tears. Tears of regret, tears from knowing the only person that took care of me all eighteen years of my life is crying, because I won’t see her again until they deem me stable.

Mom opens the driver door and slides inside. Closing the door with a pull. There’s silence. Suffocating silence, but I don’t want to be the one to break it. “I’m sorry. . .” she whispers. I turn in my seat so I don’t face her. Tears falling down my face. The salty waterfall staining my cheeks. My bottom lip quivering, I sniffle. Loud enough for her to hear and she tries to reach for me but takes her hand away. I shake and shiver as I silently cry.

As my mom, drives me straight to my impending doom.

16 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Growing

TW: Cannabalism

Y/N sat on the couch. Watching TV as usual because Slenderman was busy. Jeff was on the couch also, unusually cheery. Sophia the First started playing. The intro going as usual until Y/N noticed something, Jeff was singing along. “I was girl in the village doing alright, then I became a princess overnight. Now I gotta figure out how to do it right, so much to learn and see”. Y/N hopped off the couch to go sit next to Jeff and sing. And that evening was spent watching Sophia the First, with Jeff.

In a house full of killers. You don’t necessarily have any good role models. Today was a great example.

It was noon, the warm sun a barely shone through the bare weaving tree branches. And drawn sheer curtains. Y/N was hungry. A common predicament when no one wants to take care of a child. Y/n sat there, hangry. Until Eyeless Jack walked in.

Jack, was calm and probably one of the most sensible out of the few she’s met so far. “Jackie!” Y/N exclaimed. Hopping off of the barstool and hugging the tall creature. “I’m hungy“ she whined into his hoodie. “Well, what I’m about to eat you probably shouldn’t“ Jack said. Prying the tiny human off of him. “Pleeaaassseeee” she pleaded with all her might. Puppy dog eye level ten.

”Fine” he sighed in defeat. Jack opened one of the many fridges and pull out a jar. A jar coated in red with organs inside. Y/N had always been fascinated as to why they had all those things in the fridge, she always wanted to try one. Jack, the laughing one, said it tasted almost like candy.

Jack, (no eyes man), opened the jar and the irony scent filled her nose. “It smells. . .” she paused. “Int-Int-teresting, yeah”. She nodded, content with her try at the word and sat back down on the bar stool.

”How do I eat it?” she asked suddenly. Rolling up her sweater sleeves and grabbing a few napkins. “You just grab it, and bite” Jack stated. “ok” Y/N muttered dipping her hands into the cold jar. “oh! It’s cold!” Y/N exclaimed pulling out a kidney hastily. Jack chuckled and pulled one of his own. “And just bite“ Y/N repeated to herself.

She opened her tiny mouth as much as she could and bit down. Blood dripping down the sides of her mouth as she pulled back and chewed. Jack watched her reaction first, surprised she actually went through with it. “mmmmm” Y/N hummed thinking. “7/10, needs salt“. She said hopping off the stool and climbing a counter. ”Dad- Slenderpman said salt is a seasoning, and seasoning makes things taste better so if it‘s gonna be nine or whatever comes after that, salt.”.

Y/N didn’t finish the kidney because mid-way she felt vomit traveling up her throat. Jack with his super speed, got her to a sink in time before her tiny cheeks exploded. Jack groaned, his heightened senses weren’t helping.

Y/N didn’t like the feeling of throwing up but she was gonna eat some more later. No matter what Jack told her.

(shit i did alot)

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

ST. PAUL

Please like, comment, recommend, reblog, and come talk to me if you enjoyed the piece.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is coming up in a two days) 😌

warnings: smut, daddy kink, 18+

—

Harry loves being the center of attention.

It’s really no surprise at this point that he enjoys when tens of thousands of people are watching him perform.

He also secretly loves that people love his wife as well. He swore sometimes he thinks his wife is more popular than him during tour.

YN was didn’t come out from backstage to stand and watch the show right away like she usually did - she was working through some merch issues with Jeff.

Harry noticed that the fans were continuously looking back to where his wife would usually stand for the show.

Between one of the sets, Harry goes about ready some of the posters that fans have brought and he huffs out a faux affronted remark as he reads one out loud.

“I’m only here for your hot wife.”

He jokingly glares at the fan as the crowds laughs, “M’gonna have t’have a talk with security about these posters! Y’hitting on m’wife in front me! She’s not even out here, tough luck mate.”

Then he shimmies away as another song comes on.

A few minutes later, a sign pops up that says, “I want to taste YN’s watermelon sugar.”

Harry gives the person holding the sign a look of disbelief and shakes his head in disapproval at the poster before turning away.

“Should I text him?”

Harry reads from a fan’s board, he holds up his left hand and wriggles his ring finger that is donned in his wedding band, “Y’asking the wrong person, love. I’ve been locked down f’eleven years, don’t know much about the new age of dating!”

He goes on to say, “My only advice is if he’s playing games - don’t do it. Trash, trash, trash. Not for you.”

When YN finally arrives to her usual spot, everyone tries to get a glimpse from where they’re at. It was a thing, everyone wants to not only get a glimpse of Harry Styles’ wife but also her outfit.

There were hundreds of instagram accounts now dedicated to their matching tour outfits.

The short dress she was wearing was made of the same material and color as his shirt *** and she looked stunning as always.

The singer notices all of the attention dart to the side of the arena, where he also spots his beautiful wife smiling with Glenne as they go to their usual spot.

When She ends, Harry walks down the catwalk with a exaggerated pout on his face, giving his wife a pointed look, “I just want to remind everyone, this show’s about me! I’m quite the narcissist so I know m’wife is gorgeous but we’re here f’me!”

The crowd erupts in laughter and playful ‘boos’ as a dimply smile spreads on his face as he adjust his in-ears.

YN bites the inside of her lip, holding back her own giggles at her husband’s boyish antics before she joins along in the boos.

“Alright, alright, no booing me now,” Harry titters like the comedian he is, “Just remindin’ y’who this is all about. Me! But let’s give a round of applause to m’wife who deals with the narcissism on a daily basis!”

The arena does so, thousands of fans capturing their interaction on their phones for people to coo over later.

YN rolls her eyes, laughing at some Glenne says before and then Harry is starting his next song with a few glances over to her until they meet eyes and he blows her a kiss which she returns.

And then a poster pops up in the pit that Harry knows he has to snag - gets a brilliant idea so he asks the fan to pass it forward.

He props his mic back into its stand before turning the poster around and showing it to his wife on the side.

“Show us your tits, respectfully.”

YN flips him off with a giggle before teasing at the collar of her dress which makes Harry’s jaw drop dramatically and he gives her a surprised look before shaking his head. ***

“Don’t y’dare flash the goods! I’m just jokin’ around, this is a family show….” He pauses before prompting the crowd, “Or is it?”

As he performs Lights Up, YN steps forward to the barricade to call over one of the fan who is awestruck as she stumbles over to YN.

“Could I borrow your sign?” YN asks the fan - who was dressed in a sequined suit that looked amazing and she had to compliment her on that too.

“Uh…yeah. He-here,” The girl stutters nervously, passing over the posterboard with shaky hands at meeting YN.

She was sooooo pretty up close, smelled like chanel number five, and smiled warmly enough to make the fan feel comfort.

“Thanks, I’ll give it right back,” YN assures her, stepping back over to Glenne, they giggle together before YN holds it over her head.

“Choke Me Daddy.”

Harry spots it in a mere minute, reading it over and unable to hide the moody, dark expression that flashes across his face before he covers it up by looking elsewhere.

Just the reaction she wanted.

Harry stay away from that side of the stage for a little, YN knows it’s to prevent a very public boner from her behavior.

YN hands it back, agrees to take a few pictures with the girl and her friends before they go back to enjoy the concert.

The girl who lent her the sign goes on to make tiktoks about the meeting.

“She was super nice and giggly.”

“She let us take a ton of selfies.”

“When she held it up, Harry like instantly got pissed or turned on or something because he gave her this look and it was intense.”

“Harry was staring at her like the whole concert after she held up that sign.”

“It seemed like YN was purposefully ignoring his signals to make him even more annoyed.”

“Her ring was so pretty.”

“I couldn’t tell who was more attractive, Harry or YN, I think they’re literally the hottest couple alive.”

When the concert ends, Harry bolts off stage - waving and blowing kisses to his adoring fans before disappearing into the back.

YN is waiting patiently by the entry, where she usually was, her stomach was tight and bracing for her husband’s reaction.

She wanted to play.

They both knew it.

Hell, the whole arena had known she wanted it.

And to her absolute disappointment, Harry arrives back stage and pulls her into a tight hug. He pulls back gently to kiss her with his large palm cupping her face.

“Hi baby, m’exhuasted. I’ll shower at the hotel,” Harry rasps, peppering a few more soft kisses before intertwining their fingers.

YN has to hide her disappointment that it wasn’t Harry coming back stage, shoving her into his dressing room, and giving it to her hard for the sign she held up.

Nope, during the ride to the hotel, he was cuddly and like a puppy - whining until YN massaged his neck and allowed him to lay his head in her lap.

He doesn’t bring up the sign, just relaxes quietly until they get to the hotel and then just grabs her hand to lead her to their room.

YN tries to settle down the itchy arousal in her belly when Harry goes to shower.

She changes out of her dress into one of Harry’s shirts and goes about folding and organizing both of their suitcases.

After the shower stops, YN hears Harry moves around for a moment until he’s opening the bathroom door.

“Do you want to order room service? I’m star-“

She’s cut off when her husband’s hand reaches down and intertwines into her hair - gentle by firmly pulling her to stand by it and tugging her back into his hard chest.

“Harr-“

“I don’t think so, baby. I think s’daddy, yeah?” Harry hisses against the shell of her ear, “Do y’think I’d forget about y’holding up a sign that said choke me daddy?”

It’s easy for her to slip in a fuzzier, submissive state because she knows her husband will keep her safe and always take care of her.

“You showed that sign fir-“ YN begins to argue back but Harry pulls at her hair to silence her.

“Y’want t’argue or do you want t’be a good girl f’daddy?” Harry asks lowly, his voice threaten and void of any of his normal warmth, “I think ten is a good number, hm? Ten t’your arse?”

“But-“ YN loved to push him, she wanted those ten but she also liked to rile Harry up which was even better when he was adrenaline high from a show.

“Say ‘yes daddy’ or I’ll add five,” He warns, his voice had a delicious rasp from singing and he wraps his hand into her thong and rips it - making her yelp as the elastic snaps against her skin.

YN’s heart is pounding out of her chest, usually she was the one who took Harry by surprise - not the other way around.

Her skin was aching already from the brush burn of the fabric being torn from her sensitive skin, scalp pulsing from the tension on her hair.

“You were so obvious on stage, H. Once I held up that sign, your face gave everything away - that you’re so easy f’me - it’s embarrassing. I’ve been locked down for eleven years,” She imitates his accent in a bratty bite.

Harry snaps, nearly picking her up as he manhandles her over to the large hotel bed and she finds herself on her belly with Harry landing a hard slap to her right cheek.

“Y’think you’re s’fuckin’ cute? Don’t act like it doesn’t get y’soaked seeing all those fans cry f’me and I come home t’you,” He chuckles meanly, “And y’want to call me desperate? Look in the mirror, love.”

YN wriggles a bit but doesn’t have much time before the second and third hit with his rings still on - making it hurt even more.

“Count f’me, sweetheart,” Harry hums, thumbing open her cheeks to lean down and teasing lick her tighter entrance before letting go to land the fourth one.

“F-four,” She chokes out, feeling herself drip onto the sheets and her nipples tighten against the cotton fabric of the shirt she still has on.

“Four what.”

The air in the room is thick, humid as she mumbles against the pillows, “Four daddy.”

“Louder.”

“Four, s’four daddy,” YN moans, tacking on the fifth to her words when he lands on her left cheek and she can tell how sore she’ll be in the morning already.

“Gonna give me fifteen, baby? Or are y’done?” His voice is cautious, checking in to see where she’s at - if they add five more that means she really wants to play. If he stops at five, they both know that means she only wanted to be roughed up a little bit for the night.

“More, please.” YN gasps, shaking her bum in his face before it’s caught with the hardest hit yet and she yelps in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

After they reach fifteen, Harry is flipping her on her back and tugging her shirt off until her breasts spill out and he tugs roughly at a nipple.

“Daddy, please, please,” She whines, her thighs were damp and she was absolutely pulsating for his touch on her.

“I think I deserve an apology f’your behavior tonight,” He whispers against her puffy lips, his cock slipping against her mound lazily, “Desperate f’me even in front of tens of thousands of people. It’s quite cute, darling.”

“Fuck me, fuck me,” YN presses her lips to his eagerly, moaning when he slips between her folds and his tip bumps against her clit.

“Y’have no fuckin’ manners, pet. I think I’ve spoiled y’too much,” Harry admonishes with faux disappoint, pulling back until their centers aren’t touching and landing a smack to her mound.

Then he’s reaching down to thumb at her bud with a relentless pleasure but as soon as she starts to lift her hips into the feeling - he pulls away and tucks two fingers up inside her - repeats that quite a few times.

She felt like she was on fire, she needed him so badly that she wasn’t able to take much more of the teasing.

They usually played for longer, hours sometimes but on tour - it was hard to, both of them bone-tired and knowing they have to get up early and do it again tomorrow.

Harry knows his wife like the back of his hand, knows when she needs more and when she’s hit her limit for the night.

When he sees hot, fat tears spilling from the corner of her eyes, lips full and swollen, and she’s mewling, “Daddy.”

He knows she’s nearly at her limit, he slips inside her with no resistance and has to push for a moment because it feels that euphoric.

“Baby, fuck. Always feel s’fuckin’ good. This body was made f’me, yeah? S’addicitng, s’warm and tight,” Harry praises his wife, kissing her before tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth.

“S’for you, all of it. Ha-Daddy, I’m so close already, do it - c’mon,” She begs, legs wrapping around his narrow waist and pressing her heels into his bum.

They both know what she wants but he wants to hear her say it.

“C’mon, tell me. Say it and I’ll give it t’you,” He rumbles as he thrusts in with loud, smacking noises echoing through the room.

She blinks up at him with twinkling doe eyes, a small smirk on the side of her lips, as she says in a kittenish voice, “Choke me, daddy.”

And like that, his hand is collaring her throat and lightly pressing down until her breathe catches in her throat.

“Come f’me, m’desperate lil’ thing. All those people with those nasty signs and all I can think about it y’perfect cunt,” He murmurs in her ears, pressing just a bit more and then just like clockwork - she tenses and begins to come and he lightens his grip and releases when he follows soon after her.

👀👀👀👀👀

1K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Fully Completely 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Here’s part two and things are getting aggressive fast.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: Either it'll move me

💀💀💀

Usually your work kept you busy and if you were busy, you were content. Not that day. Not since that man ruined your lunch. You were so worked up that when you got back to the garage, you didn’t even finish your sandwich. You barely got anything done as what you did had to be redone in your distraction.

The night was little better as you planned to get the car done so the next time Loki bothered you, you could tell him to fuck off. If his headlight did come in before he left town, you’d send it down to Carl’s to have the work done. You would take the cost from what Bucky gave you to cover your time.

You were on your second coffee by the time you headed down to the garage, your apartment conveniently above as your existence was relegated to that single lot in Birch. At the bottom step you paused as you sipped from the travel mug and listened to the unexpected noise from behind the black door.

You locked all the doors at night, even that between the entryway and the garage that you kept propped open during the day. You stepped closer and tested the handle and bent to examine the lock. You glanced over at the painted front door and found that both had been picked.

Your fingers tightened on the mug. The last person to break into your garage, well, they weren’t around to bother you anymore after Jerome found out. You swung the door open and hauled the hot coffee across the garage towards the only sign of movement.

Loki sidestepped the splash, a few drops along his dark jacket, and continued to tighten and untighten the wrench. He looked at you nonchalantly and his mouth slanted. He shook his head as he let the tool hang perilously from his hand.

“Is this how you treat all your customers? This ungainly assault,” he peered down at the overturned cup beside his car.

“What the fuck are you doing in my garage?” you huffed as you marched over to him and reached for the wrench.

He gripped it tighter as you tried to snatch it from him and held you close as he sneered down at you.

“Two days,” he said “correct?”

“Tomorrow by my count,” you rebuked and pulled harder on the wrench, “not that it gives you any right to break into my garage and touch my stuff.” He let you yank the metal free of your grasp and you pointed it at his chin, “so leave or this time I won’t miss.”

He chuckled, barely bothered by the tool pointed at him as his green eyes sparkled, “your count is incorrect. I might be early but your work is due this evening so I will wait.”

“Not here,” you waved the wrench at him and grabbed his arm, “so get out and come back later then.”

His hand covered yours and he pried your fingers from him. He twisted your hand back and you gasped and swung the wrench with your other. You hit his shoulder as he raised his arm in defense and grunted at the sharp impact. He let you go and you swung again. He dodged and shoved you away from him.

“Do not presume to put your hands on me,” he warned, “you know who my brother is, that I associate with your cute local chapter--”

“I’m not one of them and I don’t report to them,” you snarled, “so get out now or you won’t be associating with anyone.”

“Mouthy little bitch,” he slithered, “you touch me again, or even attempt it--”

“I said get out,” you hit the hood of his car and left a dent, “It’ll be another day at least.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. He fixed his jacket and sighed. He raised his chin and stiffly strode across the garage and through the black door. You followed feet behind him and made sure he continued outside. You cranked the lock behind him and listened to his footsteps crunch through the snow.

You might not report to Bucky and his goons but he was going to keep the rabble in line.

💀

It was just after noon but you knew Bucky would already be at The Asp. You ventured down the street in your heavy boots, your jacket flapping open in the wind as you were set on your destination and the conversation that awaited you. You nodded at the man who leaned a few feet from the door and sucked on a cigarette.

You entered and shook the snow off your lined denim jacket and kicked off your boots. You looked around at the mostly empty bar. You rarely went there as it was more trouble than you needed. The men were drunk and dirty and like many places in Birch, you just didn’t fit. You didn’t want to fit.

Bucky sat at his usual table, a woman you recognized beside him. She had been a year or two ahead of you in school and a couple behind Bucky himself. You knew she was his new girl but she never really looked happy about it. Knowing him, it didn’t surprise you. He always wanted more than he got.

You crossed to him and stood in front of the round table as his right-hand thug watched you curiously. You raised a brow at Steve and focused on the boss.

“We need to talk,” you said plainly.

“We do?” he asked genuinely confused, “I owe you something?”

“You do and you don’t. I’m not here about money,” you replied, “but it’s important.”

“Alright,” he pointed to the chair in front of you and gestured to his companions, planting a kiss on the woman’s lips before she stood, her lips slightly curled at the corner, and left you. He shifted in his chair as they went and nodded when he was ready, “sorry, if I knew you were on your way, I would’ve kept her in the back.”

You scoffed and shook your head. He was always obtusely arrogant. “I stopped fucking you, Buck, I don’t care who you’re with now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he inhaled and placed his hand against the table, “so what is it?”

“This guy, Loki,” you began, “brought his car to me two nights ago.”

“Mhmm, I sent him down. I know I should come down myself but--”

“Please, you hate going down there,” you waved his words away, “it’s not about the car, it’s about him.”

“What about him?”

“He broke into my shop this morning. There was… well, I got a few licks in and for the sake of you I’ve held back but you need to keep him away from me. I’ll fix his car but I’m not dealing with him anymore. He’s a pompous asshole who thinks he can just do whatever he wants.” You stopped yourself, usually not one to go on at length, “he’s your… associate, as he would say it, so he can deal with you, not me.”

He considered you and pulled his hand back to scratch the stubble along his jaw. His blue eyes were intrigued if not surprised.

“He… coming onto you?” he asked.

“No,” you blinked at him dully, “no, he’s just annoying me. You promised me the shop would be my space. He picked my locks, Buck, so you let him know what’s what.”

“He’s new in town,” Bucky sighed, “but I’ll talk to him.”

“You better,” you stood, “because I don’t care about whatever business you got going on, the next time, I’m gonna pop his eye out with a--”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he snipped, “I’ll take care of him, alright?”

“You better,” you said as you backed away, “or you can find someone else to fix up your bikes.”

“Really? You know it won’t come to that,” he sat forward in irritation, “go, he won’t bother you.”

💀

The next day you looked over the front of the car. Aside from the cracked headlight, it was as good as new. You rolled up the garage door and took the keys from the hook. You drove the car out and steered it along the snowy street and parked just outside The Asp. You got out and headed inside to hand off the keys to Bucky with a promise that you would take care of the light when it came in as long as he kept Loki away.

You returned to the garage to close the door and checked the time. You were overdue for lunch and hadn’t been back to The Chipped Saucer since that eventful day. You were hungry and too lazy to climb up to your apartment and dig through your fridge.

You crossed the street and entered the diner as Kimmie looked up from the harlequin novel she hid behind as she stood by the till. She marked her page and closed it before she grabbed the carafe from the machine and crossed to your table. She poured you a mug and confirmed your usual order.

There were a few of the older residents enjoying pie and coffee at the other tables but the snow still kept many in their own houses. You might try the strawberry rhubarb before you went. You didn’t indulge in sweets often but it smelled good.

Kimmie brought your sandwich and as you finished the first triangle, you were disturbed by the last voice you wanted to hear. You didn’t look back as the door chimed behind the new patron and you continued chewing as you once more reviewed the newsletter.

To your chagrin but not unexpectedly, the figure appeared at your table side. You bit into the next portion of your club sandwich and ignored him.

“Hello, darling,” Loki sat across from you as he had days before, “I saw that you attended to my vehicle at last. Fine work, I must say. I do hope the headlight arrives soon.”

You said nothing and kept eating as you looked out the window and slid the newsletter aside with your other hand. You took the last gulp of your coffee and swallowed. You raised your cup and looked around, “‘scuse me,” you called out, “when you have a second.”

He laughed to himself and you felt his gaze on you. You pushed aside your uneaten crust and went about your meal as if he wasn’t there. When Kimmie refilled your coffee, he ordered a tea and a bowl of the daily soup.

You barely withheld your grimace as you watched Babs across the street by her bakery. She dusted snow off the open sign before she retreated back inside.

“I’m pleasantly surprised by the food here,” he mused as he stirred a plume of milk into his tea.

“Can’t you take a hint?” you snapped, “I don’t want you near me.”

“Believe me, at first, the feeling was mutual, darling,” he said.

“I told you not to call me that,” you frowned at him directly and he smirked.

“I like the way it makes your eyes go,” he taunted, “admittedly, that first meeting I would’ve liked nothing other than to never encounter you again but the more I poke and prod you, the more intrigued I am.”

“If you don’t stop--”

“You’ll go back to Barnes, hmm?” he intoned, “yes, he did speak with me but I might enlighten you on one fact. The man requires my business more than a mechanic, especially as there seems to be healthy competition in town.”

“You have your car, you’ll have the headlight done, and you can be on your way out of town,” you growled, “and you can be far away from me. Whatever stupid game you’re playing at, I’m not biting. I meant it when I said I won’t miss--”

“Darling, this is not an invitation,” his eyes strayed from your face for just a moment and he considered the buttons of your flannel shirt, “a man like me doesn’t ask, he expects.”

Your eyes rolled so hard it hurt. You pushed your plate away and pulled out your wallet. You left your tab on the table and stood. You shrugged into your jacket and glanced out the window at the white main street.

“Whatever you expect, it’s not going to happen,” you rebuffed, “but I told you what you can expect if you come around me again.”

You left as you had days before and stormed across the street without looking. You dodged out of the way of a slow rolling Ford as it honked and you waved them off. You stomped up to the front of your shop and realised too late you were being followed.

You spun around at the door to face Loki as he slid to a stop. He grabbed your arm and drew you back from the painted wood. You hit his chest and he barely flinched as he flicked your chin with his finger.

“Oh, darling, let’s not drag this out, I do love that temper--”

“Get off--” you pushed him and he nearly slipped and took you down with him as his leather soles held no traction on the frozen ground.

He threw you back and you hit the corner of the doorframe and gasped out as it forced the air from you.

“I promise you, it won’t last. I will damp out that flame and bask in the smoke,” he neared again and you kicked out. He fell to his knees as the force of it had you on your ass.

You crawled away from the wall as he tried to stand and you grabbed onto his leg and pulled him back down. He slid back to his kneeS and gripped the collar of your coat. You hooked your arm around his neck and he jabbed your stomach, not as hard as he could, but a warning.

You brought your other arm up as you struggled to get a foothold and you managed to push you both back. You fell in tandem into the snow, your arms locked as he forced his fingers under them to keep them from snaking tighter. He was strong and you knew you could only do so much. You had to keep him on the ground.

He elbowed your ribs and you released him sharply. You rolled away from him as you panted and scrambled on your hands and knees. The frigid snow seeped through your jeans and burned your palms. You heard him behind you and you turned as you climbed to your feet unsteadily.

He was half-keeled as he got his feet set and his dark hair hung over his forehead as he glared through the strands. He stood straight and pushed back the mess of tangles and you faced him, ready for another brawl.

“Oh, this will be fun, darling,” he brushed the powder from his suit and his cheek twitched, “You needn’t worry about Barnes, you should be more worried about me.”

He puffed out a breath and spun swiftly, nearly slipping again on the icy walk. He headed back down to the street and you saw the tension between his shoulders as he pulled his jacket straight. He hurried across the road and you turned back to the garage.

It was a brief retreat, a chance to plot, you knew that much. You only had to outlast him and if you were anything, it was stubborn.

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love-amihan · 3 years

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| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |

SELCOUTH // YUJI, SUKUNA

amihan's note: i can't get sukuna and yuji being twins out of my head stop T-T here's a random drabble that just happens to run by my mind, can't really establish it as a series but i would like it to be.. maybe in the future. anyways luvlys, hope you'll enjoy this drabble. happy reading!

twin!yuji x fem!reader, twin!sukuna x fem!reader

since birth the twins has been inseparable, this however, soon changed as soon as they entered their teenage years. one gravitates towards big crowd of people while the other would like only to keep a number of them by his side.

itadori twins has been contradicting one another non-stop just to piss off each other, because apparently that's their own way of showing their 'love and affection'. what other people might not know and see behind door is how the twins seems to share every little things they like, do, and disliked.

even with the sudden change they somehow still know each other like the back of their hand. they can easily determine if the other was feeling upset or discomfort.

this brings us when the twins both admitted that they have eyes on a special someone;

yuji bursts into sukuna's room not caring with the glare thrown his way, he flopped face down on his twin's bed. "she looks so beautiful today, kuna!" he exclaimed sighing dreamingly on the bed. sukuna groans, hitting the back of his head with a pillow "if you're gonna gush about her, you could've at least i don't know? knock."

yuji turns around propping his head staring at the ceiling, "her eyes..." yuji bit his bottom lip trying to stop himself from smiling. he closed his eyes, your image appearing behind his lids. sukuna snorted before laughing at his twin's state. "god, you look and sound like a goddamn lovesick puppy"

sukuna gave yuji's side a gentle kick trying to get him off his bed, "like you're not gonna be one" yuji sat up sticking his tongue out at him. "at least i'm not all like" sukuna clears his throat preparing to imitate yuji, he widens his eyes trying to mimic yuji's round innocent eyes. "oH hOw lovELy shE looKS toDAy" he made his voice sound higher than normal, his hands clasp together.

sukuna then stops going back to his normal stoic face, "i do not sound like that!" yuji whined, repeatedly hitting him with his pillows. sukuna rolls his eyes "sure you don't"

kind of ironic how sukuna hated the way yuji acted when he first told him about his crush because right now, he definitely won't stop talking about her with yuji. sukuna sat in front of yuji who was eating peacefully at their dining table, he leans on his palm looking in a distance with a small smile on his face.

yuji munches on his food observing his twin, he waited for him to say anything but sukuna just continued staring at the wall his smile only growing bigger. "okay that's creepy, what is it?" yuji mumbles biting on his food still looking at his twin. "she's like an angel on earth" sukuna's voice almost coming to a whisper.

yuji choked on his food immediately gulping his drink while pounding on his chest. "i'm sorry what?!" he said slightly tilting his head to the side, sukuna finally looks at yuji his smile fading away. "you ruined it, now i can't picture her pretty little face"

"well i'm sorry it's not like you just casually said someone was like an angel on earth" yuji mocked sukuna. yuji then added "you tell me i'm like a lovesick puppy and here you are sounding way worse than me" sukuna puts up his middle finger glaring at him.

he took another bite of his meal looking back at his twin, "who is she anyway?" sukuna thought for a second debating whether to tell her name or not. he snaps his fingers getting yuji's full attention "how about we don't tell the name until we finally confessed and maybe introduce her to the other?"

yuji hums, bringing his hand out "deal." sukuna shook his hand smiling, this is what they like about having each other as twin. they can easily come into agreement and like to put thrill in their own little ways.

little does the twins know, they've been talking about the same person all this time. what would their reaction be if they found out? would this cause their strong bond to be shattered to pieces? or would one sacrifice and let the other be happy?

lil bonus bg;

now, we have you who grew up with the twin. you have witnessed all the ups and downs that they've been through. they're the typical sunshine and moonlight duo, like others you favor yuji more than sukuna. besides the fact that you can easily talk to yuji about anything unlike sukuna who likes to point out your every mistakes and poke fun of you because of those.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen au #jjk au #ryomen sukuna #itadori yuuji #sukuna #jjk itadori #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #yuji x you #yuji x reader #itadori twins #fandom;jjk #series;selcouth #jjk;yuji #jjk;sukuna

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spookiekewchie · 3 years

Text

Don’t Play (part ii)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Angel Reyes x woc!reader

Summary: Round 1 went to you, but our favorite himbo isn’t giving up that easy.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: More raunchy language, cursing in general, suggestive moments, some tension.

A/N: Part two of whatever it is that this mess is turning out to be lmao. if there’s any errors or typos my bad, i gave it a look over before posting but i probably missed something knowing me. Graphic by me, and the divider are by @firefly-graphics

Part 3

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

Weeks passed since that first encounter with Angel, and despite your slick mouth and smartass comments, the man just kept coming around. Not just him though, other members of the MC had started to come around to the bar as well. Tonight it was him, and a couple new faces that you learned belonged to Hank, and Creeper. Apparently more would be showing up later, a rather exciting bit of news for the thirst buckets you had to work with. “Girl, are you still playing games with Angel?” Tasha questioned, looking over your shoulder at the man whose gaze was fixed on your ass as you purposefully leaned against the bar with your hip poked out. “Because your man really looks like he’s trying to bury his face in something tonight.”

“Okay first of all, he’s not my man. He’s just the homie. Second of all, you know why.” You told her, looking behind you to see for yourself that Angel was indeed looking like a man that had been starved. It brought a little sigh to your lips before you checked yourself and turned back to the woman standing in front of you with an apologetic look on her face. Tasha had been your best friend since you drove into Santo Padre looking for a fresh start and a clean break from a controlling ex. She knew all about the reservations you had, and the reasons behind why you always kept things at a certain level when Angel started with his flirting. You also knew that if you didn’t change the subject soon she’d be trying to give you a pep talk. “Third of all, aren’t you the one still waiting for Coco to shoot his shot?” That proved to be distraction enough for Tasha, shutting her right up, but not before she snapped the towel in her hands against your ass. It had you jumping with a faux offended “Bitch!” and a laugh as your hand rubbed at the spot through the tight shorts hugging your curves.

“Damn, that looked like it hurt. You want me to rub it for you, hermosa?” Came the voice from behind you. You didn’t even need to turn around to recognize the sound of it as Angel’s, you chuckled turning around to face him with your usual flirty smile. You thought that after that first encounter he’d know better than trying to flirt with you like that, but Angel had recovered swiftly from the shock you had put him through. Now the two of you had fallen into this tit for tat game of flirting and teasing.

“I’m fine, I can take the pain.” You tell him, catching the way he licks his lips at the suggestive answer. Your elbows propped up on the bar as you went up onto your tip toes so that you could lean in towards Angel who in turn was eagerly leaning forward as well. “Thanks for the offer though, I’m sure you got a lot of experience with rubbing things out.” Your smirk was teasing, and Angel could only scoff before the laugh was rumbling out of him.

“Oh c’mon, mama! You gonna do me like that?” You shrugged at his question, grinning as you pushed off from the bar. “I don’t know why I come here. The customer service is terrible.” He joked, earning him a knowing look. Every single person within a five mile radius knew why Angel kept coming back to the bar, and why he took every chance he could to get your attention. It was almost sweet, a little bit sexy as well, knowing that a dangerous man like him was willing to make a whole fool of himself because he was feeling you. You were about to reply when you heard Tasha making her way back over, looking very much like she was about to ask you for an inconvenient favor.

Turned out you were right, she needed something from the back. A couple cases of beers, to be exact. Before you could even answer, Angel was jumping from the bar stool that he had been sitting on and volunteering to help you get the cases that were needed behind the bar. “Oh that’s so sweet, go on. We like a man that’s willing to do some heavy lifting.” Tasha’s reply had you suddenly suspicious that she didn’t need shit from the store room, but you went along with it anyway and led Angel to the back regardless.

“You know I can do my own heavy lifting, right?” You questioned once in the room. Angel scoffed, shaking his head as he stepped forward and crowded into your space with a smirk.

“I know, doesn’t mean I’m gonna let your fine ass do the heavy lifting when I’m around.” Now it was your turn to scoff, rolling your eyes as your hands dropped to your hips when you rounded on him with a raised brow.

“Let me? Who said you get to let me do a damn thing? You ain’t my fuckin daddy.” You knew you should have just let it go, he was just trying to be a gentleman, and instead there you were challenging him on it. The way his eyes narrowed slightly had you really questioning if maybe you had did too much, but then he was replacing your hands against your hips with his own. And that damn smirk was back on his face. The rough pads of his thumbs brushed a back and forth pattern against the exposed flesh at your midriff, it had you stuck for a moment before you tried to take a step back only to find his grip firm. Heat was flooding your body, skin feeling warm under his touch and for a rare moment you didn’t have a smartass comment for him. Leaning down he simply reminded you of the difference in height between you two, and it was yet another thing about him that had your panties getting damp. It definitely didn’t help when his next words were a raspy whisper against her ear.

“I could be, but you playin.” Oh that had you quiet for a moment, and Angel took full advantage of it as he spun you back around. “Now stop being difficult and show me what you need before they come looking for us.” You shivered slightly as Angel’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear, and the choice of how he phrased his words wasn’t lost on you. Face hot, and goosebumps prickling up along your flesh you stepped forward, glad that he let his grip drop so that you could focus on something other than the nasty thoughts that had invaded your mind in a near instant. Angel must have noticed that he’d gotten to you because when you next turned to face him the grin on his face was wide.

“A case of Corona, and a case of Modelo.” You pointed out the cases, watching as the man strode by with a little bounce in his step. You would have rolled your eyes if you hadn’t noticed the way the muscles of his arms shifted and bulged once he had the two cases in hand. “Just take them to the bar please.” You said, clearing your throat and forcing your eyes to go anywhere but on Angel who seemed to be enjoying finally getting you back for all those slick comments that you just loved to send his way. Watching him stride his way back to the front to deliver the cases, you took a moment to just stand there and get yourself back in check. One thought ran through your mind over and over again though.

Oh girl, you’re so fucked.

#angel reyes x woc!reader #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x woc #angel reyes reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #woc!reader #black!reader #trilla writes

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kaz11283 · 3 years

Text

Of Course I'm Here

Characters: Come on you know by now how this goes (Loki x you) (Team x you, platonic)

Warnings: None. And really if you ever see anything that I might need to able as a warning please let me know... I'm the person who forgets there are people out there that get offened by the word F*** if that is an exapmle of anything.

Summary: Mid battle and the avengers keep looking for an answer as to why the God of Lies hasnt showed up yet. Of course you have no idea but at least he proves them all wrong.

ANNOUNCEMENT TIME: hey guys Im back, I know it hasnt been long but I also know I havent been posting every single day like I was, i got into a weird little funk where I didnt want to do anything, I was just feeling completly drained, and I felt bad because I have my little and I didnt even want to play with her because I have just been so TIRED, but I'm feeling better. Work has been kicking my ass here lately and ive been working over 50 hours a week so ive literally been coming in, eatting / feeding the little, getting us ready for bed, and crashing as soon as she falls asleep. But im here now. I will probably be more active on weekends than during the week because I have more time to spend working on stuff but I will be posting also during the week just not daily. At least until after state comes. Thank you so much for the reblogs, likes, comments, follows, and messages please keep them coming! If you would like to be tagged please ask or message, and requests are open. Love you guys so much! 💚💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

~~~~~

"Y/N, BACK UP I NEED BACK UP! EYES IN THE SKY!" Tony yelled from above, you and Clint stood back to back on a roof top shooting as many bad guys as you could. Clint took aim at another carrier, shooting at the engine causing the entire thing to blow up raining debris and hot metal around you.

"Damnit Clint! Farther away make sure they are farther away!" You yelled popping him on the head with an arrow before aiming it at the thing that was chasing Tony.

"Where is lover boy at? You.sent him the location right?" Nat asked into the com.

"Yes I sent him the location, no I dont know where hes at." You mocked.

"Did you send him the right location?" Sam asked.

"One time, one dam-"

"Language!" Steve chimed in causing everyone to groan. Gun shots where ringing all around you and you could here metal on metal paired with Hulk screams coming from another building over.

"Language." You mocked muting your com son that no one but Clint heard you. "I am a 26 year old woman, I think I'm old enough to cuss if I want." You drew back your bow and sent another arrow flying into another goon that had Nat trapped aginst a wall. She shot you a thumbs up before running off. You hit unmute on your com.

"Jesus, 26? Baby, you sure you don't need to be at a babysitter instead of on a building killing things?" He laughed.

"Dont worry Hawk, when we get done here I've already booked you a nice nursing home to be put into." You put your bow around you and stood on the edge of the building. "I need a better view." You looked round, the top of a taller building caught you eye. "There Hawk, we can cover a better radius from up there, get closer to the action."

"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHEN THE GODS ARE GOING TO BE HERE? WE NEED MORE HELP WERE GETTING TIRED AND OUT NUMBERED!" Tony came over the coms screaming.

"How do we get up there? Or do I even wanna know?" Hawk came to examin where you were talking about.

"Im jumping, you cant tell me that someone wont catch me." You shrug.

"GODS WHERE ARE TH- Y/N DONT YOU DARE JUMP!" Tony stopped and hovered right were you was standing.

"Then take us over there. We need higher ground, we cant cover everyone from down here." You crossed your arms.

"Where are the gods at y/n?" He asked again

"I. Dont. Know. Jesus you guys act like I'm suppose to be there keeper!" A simultaneous you are came from everone through the com causing you to roll your eyes. "Hes gonna be here I swear it! Now take me to the building or I jump. 1.....2....-" Tony grabbed you by the collar of your jacket and flew you to the building.

God these things were everywhere and you were starting to run out of arrows. After shooting another ship and causing it to blow you heard what was unmistakably pounding on the roof top door leading to where you currently was at.

"I have some univited guests about to join my party. Anyone available for some assistance?" You yanked out the two emerald green and silver daggars that your boyfriend had given you not long after you had started dating after throwing your bow around you.

"Buy some time kid, I'm on ground level right now but I can try to get up there as fast as possible." Bucky called over the com.

"Buy some time? Ok. I can do this. I work better from afar but a little hand to hand never hurt anyone, just easier to get stabbed this way." The first of the things busted through the door running straight at you. You jerked out of the way missing his staff by just a few inches. Quickly turning you flipped the dagger like Loki had showed you and stabbed him in his side causing him to fall to the ground before the next one tried to impale you.

"I have two daggers and they have freaking staffs! Back up! WHERE THE HELL AR-" you were interupted by static in the air and a bright light. The bitfrost had just opened up leaving to gods standing in front of you and taking out the remainder ofnthe bad guys. "HES HERE! I TOLD YOU GUYS THEY WERE COMING AND THEY'RE HERE." You pulled two extra coms from you pocket and gave them to Thor and Loki.

"Always a pleasure to battle beside you Lady y/n." Thor smiled takkng the com and putting it in his ear before taking off again.

Loki sauntered over to you and put his arm around you waist, you put the com in his ear as he rolled his eyes. He leaned down and gave you a quick kiss.

"You got a new outfit." You smiled at him. God the way he looked in his battle clothe always did something to you, the horned helment was a plus.

"You like it." He smirked down at you pulling you closer.

"Your wearing your horns to." You reached up and brushed a peice if hair behind his ear.

"STOP. STOP NOW. WE CAN HEAR EVERYTHING AND ITS GROSS." Tony yelled causing you both to roll your eyes.

"Quick run down, bad guys everywhere, no end in sight, and I'm out of arrows pretty sure Hawk is too." Loki waved his hand over your quiver making more arrows appear.

"I see you had to use your daggers. I am sorry for not being here. Are you hurt anywhere?" He asked stepping away from you to examin you.

"Small cut on the side, nothing I havent dealt with before, Ill be fine. You go make sure Hawk is fully stocked up and help the others. I got a birds eye view of you right here." I leaned in kissing him one more time before smiling at him and pushing him away. He kissed his two finger before placimg them over his heart and you did the same, "always." You both said before he disappered.

You could hear Thor laughing at the chaos going on and Steve trying to direct the god of thunder on what to do. You had learned earlier to just let him do his own thing and he would be fine. Tony was still trying to micromanage everything when you heard Loki mumble something in an old language and his com cut out. You had figured it wouldnt have stayed on to long though but at least you had tried. It had calmed down up on your end so you decided to finally go back down to where Clint was at shooting an arrow with heavy duty rope you glided back down next to him to watch what was going on.

"Hello, earth to y/n." He snapped his fingers in front of your face. You had been to busy staring at Loki and that damn helmet. "I dont even understand why were friends." He rolled his eyes propping up on the ledge watching as the rest of the team secured the last of the bad guys.

"Because we both shoot arrows, because we are both the best in the team, or because we both know we are the best looking one on the team so we have to stick together." You laughed jumping up so you could sit on the ledge.

"The birds can come out of their nest now." Bucky called over the coms causing you both to sigh.

When you and Clint had reached the bottom you walked over to Thor theowing your arms around the big goof ball.

"You are amazing during battle as always." He beemed patting you on the shoulder.

"As always? Thor youve only fought with her twice." Steve said beside you.

"I had a week off. Went to Asguard, spent time with the boys. Someone had to keep them in line." You shrugged like it was no big deal.

"She was amazing!" Thor went on telling the story of the fight you had all gotten into.

"Mothers been asking about you by the way dear. Wants to know if you've decided to come stay for a while." Loki leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"I think I'm leaning toward a yes. I can't stand being away from you, you had been gone forever this time." You reached for his hand as you both walked to the quinjet.

"I was making arrangements to have our room redone. I figured you would come with me." He gave you a knowing smirk as he reached up to take off his helmet.

"Leave the horns on. I have a suprise for you when we get home." You pulled his hand away from his head and smacked his butt.

"You are a little minx." He laughed chasing you into the jet while the rest of the team groaned and rolled their eyes.

"Even if you wasnt moving i would be kicking your ass out! I am so sick of the PDA between you two." Tony hollared after you.

"Leave them alone Tony, they are courting. Im just glad my brother is happy and not trying to stab me." Thor clapped Tony on the back.

~~~~~

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real-jane · 3 years

Text

AWtA: Patching You Up

(hermione x draco)

summary: draco shows up injured at the portrait to the 8th year combined dorm, which he was disallowed from joining as punishment for his role in the war. with parvati's help, he makes it to hermione, who has a lot to say about what happened to him.

warnings: draco was beat up, hurt/comfort, aftermath of injury

a/n: part 3 of ‘a week to atone’, my 8th-year hogwarts-era series. enjoy! message, comment, or reblog with request to be added to the tag list!

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“Hermione!” Knocks sounded on her bedroom door.

The witch in question shot out of bed, throwing open the door to her room to reveal the bewildered face of Parvati with her arm raised to knock again. Her brunette hair was askew, with flyaways trying to escape her double braids.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked softly.

Parvati breathed out in relief. “Good. You’re awake. I’m fine. It’s just...”

“Yes? What time is it?” Hermione scrubbed her face.

"I silenced the hallway," Parvati said, ignoring the question. "Figured you wouldn't necessarily want an audience..." She stepped to the side, and gestured behind her. Against the stone wall opposite Hermione’s door sat a slumped figure--a tall person, who was folded in on themselves, but there was no mistaking that shock of white-blonde hair.

“Oh, Merlin,” Hermione breathed. She knelt at his feet. He was in a bad way; she leaned his head back against the wall, but he had a gnarly slash through his eyebrow. His eyelid had swelled nearly shut. The purpling beneath the skin on his cheekbone would require a lot more than some bruisewort to break up the burst blood vessels, say nothing of the very real likelihood that his nose could be broken. Given that it hadn’t stopped bleeding, and he was currently ruining a handkerchief.

“Found him outside the portrait, nevermind why,” Parvati whispered, as if speaking at a normal volume would further damage Malfoy. “Didn’t seem to know where he was, but he said your name and then he collapsed. I’m going to have to burn this shirt.” She gestured to her top, which had a smear of a red-brown stain at the shoulder. Hermione knew that Parvati had snuck out between the time that Head rounds ended and Filch’s watch began. The telltale slide of her door unlatching had been the last thing Hermione heard before she fell asleep.

And now… well. That spectacular fascination Hermione had for Draco Malfoy seemed to have reared its head. Or taken a header.

Hermione sighed. “Thanks, Parvati… I’ll take care of him.”

“You sure? He is…” The girl seemed to be searching for the right word, one they both knew, and quite an apt descriptor for who Malfoy had indeed been, prior to May. Instead, she settled on: “...a boy. McGonagall will have a cow if she finds out he’s in the girls’ dorm.”

“Yes, well. I don’t think she’d like it much more if he were passed out outside the door. Help me get him up?” Hermione hooked one of Malfoy’s arms over her shoulder. Parvati did the same. He had not made any indication of being conscious, not until Hermione gripped him around the waist. He let out a faint hiss of pain. She exchanged a worried look with Parvati. They both struggled to stand. Malfoy listed forward.

“Hospital wing?” Parvati asked.

Hermione shook her head. “Couldn’t get him there at this hour without alerting Filch. Besides--do you fancy trying to walk him down three flights of stairs and across the castle? Bring him in here.” Somehow, he seemed even taller when he couldn’t hold himself up. Hermione was at least a head shorter than him, and Parvati even shorter. But together, they made it into Hermione’s bedroom, and rather unceremoniously dumped the injured boy onto her very small bed.

His head lolled against her pillow, and in the moonlight, Hermione could tell that the cut had at least stopped bleeding, though she couldn’t be certain if his nose had. His handkerchief had been lost to the boards beneath her bed. She propped his head up under a second pillow, but it was a great big cranium all told, and she would be sure to tell him once he was conscious again.

She pulled her wand out of her bedside table, touching the tip of the vine wood to his brow. “Episkey,” she murmured. The skin knitted together. He would have a permanent scar through his brow rendering him no less handsome than usual. She performed the same treatment on his nose and cheekbone. The swelling lessened, though he still wasn’t attempting to open his eyes. Hermione sighed.

“Thank the gods I won’t have to stitch him up.”

“I have some mugwort in my trunk. Shall I fetch it?” Parvati leaned back against the door with a peculiar look on her face. Hermione nodded, and the other girl slipped out of the room silently.

“Merlin.” She brushed hairs from his forehead, which had stuck there from the wound. His face needed cleaning, and then renervation was in order, so he could tell her what the hell had happened. He wasn’t in his uniform; he had chosen a simple mock-turtleneck and dark denim trousers, though his characteristic black boots remained. What had it been--she glanced at the little clock hanging over her bureau, it read about half midnight--a mere five hours since she had made eye contact with him across the Great Hall at Supper, attempting to convey how delighted she had been by his tea delivery in Divinations (and asking as many questions as she could about Alexei Krum to keep Harry and Ron well distracted)? What ill could have come to him in that time?

Parvati brought in a small box, which held a smattering of small vials meant for simple medicinal needs, including mugwort. “Thanks, Parvati,” Hermione smiled. “Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll give this back before breakfast.”

“What’re you going to do with him?” It was hard to see the whole of Parvati’s expression in the dim light, but she crossed her hands behind her back and swayed on her feet.

Hermione glanced at her patient. “I’ll think of something.”

“Mmm. Hermione--?”

“Yes?”

Parvati shook her head. “Nothing. I’ll see you.”

“Goodnight.”

“‘Night.” Once the other witch had slipped from the room, Hermione flicked her wand and locked the door.

It was an appropriate question to ask: what was she going to do with Draco Malfoy?

The mugwort smelled like fresh earth as she wetted her own handkerchief with the stuff. She dabbed at his cheekbone, and then up, across his forehead. Her hand hovered over his eyelid to give it the same treatment, but chilled fingers wrapped around her wrist. She dropped the makeshift rag. Malfoy stirred. His eyes flicked between the open first aid kit, and the bottle of mugwort, and Hermione’s look of concern. He hissed in pain; Hermione’s hand spasmed in his grasp, prepared to reach for her rag again and finish the job she had started.

“It’s not as bad as all that,” he breathed, peering at her through slits.

Hermione blinked. “You’re conscious.”

“Mm.” He squeezed her arm. “Help me sit up?” Malfoy’s hand slid up her forearm to grasp her elbow. She mirrored his posture, countering his efforts as he pulled himself up against the headboard. He winced.

“Gods, my ribs,” he gasped.

“Oh no, here.” Hermione touched his side with her wand where he indicated, and muttered the healing charm (which would do nothing for internal damage more extensive than a small wound, but she’d badger him about it when he had more energy). He instantly slackened in relief. Malfoy patted her forearm.

“Thanks.” He blew out a long breath. Hermione reached over him and flicked her lamp on manually, setting her wand to the side. Malfoy’s hand fell to her leg. Her stomach did a little somersault. She didn’t know what to say. Here was Draco Malfoy, in her room. He watched her.

He gestured to his face, which looked less swollen with every passing moment. “You can ask--”

“Didn’t seem polite.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up and he snickered. “So bloody proper.”

She blushed. “Yes, well. If you are out of danger, I would suggest going back to your room--”

“That’s what got me into this state, Granger.” He scoffed. “I wasn’t two steps into the common room, and boom. Wasn’t very sporting of them, all told.”

“In the boys’ common room?” she gasped. He shook his head.

“Slytherin commons. Wasn’t allowed to live with the eighth years in the combined dorm.”

“Sorry?”

“You didn’t know?” He flattened his palm on her knee as if to comfort her, though she wasn’t the one who had been attacked by her own housemates. Malfoy shrugged, but Hermione felt the anger rising in her chest.

“Anyway. They didn’t even have their wands,” he laughed hollowly. “Someone wearing a ring bashed my eye, Blaise probably. Hurt like hell.” He rubbed his forehead. “I can’t be sure who kicked me in the ribs, but they had grubby trainers. Quick, see if they left a footprint on my shirt. We can trace it back to the owner.”

“Malfoy--”

“What? I have to go back there. My wand is somewhere in that common room. If I’m lucky, it isn’t a pile of ash in the hearth by now, or being used as a pair of chopsticks.”

“They’ve got your wand--?”

“Yes,” he sighed, “Theo waved it in my face just before I passed out.”

“You have to go to Slughorn.”

“What could he do?” Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bloody hell. My ears are still ringing.”

“Here.” Hermione cupped the back of his head to ease the pressure off his neck. Then, she took a small vial from Parvati’s kit. He allowed her to tip the contents into his mouth, and she did her best to ignore how very soft his lips were on her fingers. He groaned.

“What was that?”

“Skele-Gro. With luck you don’t have any bones floating in your sinuses.”

“‘S foul. Thanks all the same. Maybe I’ll actually sleep tonight.”

“You can’t sleep there.” She stood and paced around the foot of the bed.

“I don’t have many other options, Granger.”

“Room of requirement?”

“Rather not, considering our last visit. Can you sit? You’re making me dizzy.” Malfoy patted the bed beside him, not at his feet where she had sat prior. Hermione indulged him, but she was vibrating with anger.

“You should’ve gone to the hospital wing,” she growled. “You had to pass it to get here.” He had the audacity to laugh, though it came out as a wheeze.

“Pomfrey wouldn’t have been half so fastidious.”

“You’re poking fun at me!” She tried to stand but he grabbed her hand.

“Sorry. Really.” He looked down at their fingers, intertwining them in a way she hadn’t fathomed could feel so intimate, but then--that’s how things were when it came to Malfoy. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each finger. She couldn’t help but melt against his side. When he straightened up again, Hermione’s body launched herself at him, of her own volition. She wound her arms around his neck, paying no mind to the soft oof! as he bore it. Malfoy held her for a long while.

“I’m alright,” he whispered when her breath caught.

“You were unconscious --”

“But, you fixed me up. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione sat back just enough to look him in the eyes. In the glow of her golden lamp, his irises shone nearly green.

Malfoy nodded once. “Never better.” He smiled at her, brightly for someone who had so recently been pummelled by his fellow students.

“You have a big head.”

“Mm. You flatter me.” His fingers trailed her jaw.

Hermione shivered unconsciously. “What inspired this attack? Is it payback?”

He cringed. “Uh, well. Yes. And… I hadn’t considered it prior, but it seems that my little charade in Divinations yesterday touched a nerve. The other members of my house now have confirmation that I’ve… defected, so to speak. So. It’s open season.”

“Gods--this is barbaric!”

“You’re quite upset for a few bumps and bruises—“

“If you’re about to tell me to ‘calm down’ Draco Malfoy—“

“Wouldn't dare.”

Hermione frowned. “But you don’t ‘need’ friends, huh?” She took his cheek in hand. “Change in plans.”

“Which plans?”

“Your ritualistic torture for my amusement. I have other ideas.”

“Hang on,” he chuckled, “I was enjoying the torture. “

“Good. Then tomorrow, you have to walk me to breakfast, and all my classes, and carry my books.”

He melodramatically pressed his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, how will I ever survive--”

“And you have to talk to Harry and Ron at breakfast.” For some reason which would give her amusement for a long time to come, he looked more concerned about the prospect of speaking with her two best friends than about the fact that might be attacked once again in the hallways by his fellow Slytherins. He nudged her chin.

“You’re maniacal.” His eyes softened at the corners, though he sobered. “Thank you for patching me up, Granger. If you want me to streak down the castle drive all the way to Hogsmeade to repay you, I’ll ask you to wait at the bottom with a coat, but I��ll do it.”

“What I want,” she said sharply, “is to get at least a few more hours of sleep, without worrying that you’re going to bleed internally. You know, you have such a bad habit of disturbing my sleep!” Hermione poked him in the sternum. And then, as an afterthought: “But that’s not a bad idea… I’ll add it to my list.”

“So far, your challenges have been pretty tame—“

“Tame!? You got pummeled for bringing me a pot of tea!”

“Nothing I’m not used to.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a masochist.”

“Do you?” His voice rumbled under her hand.

“Do I what?”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Know better.”

She cleared her throat and patted her chest, prepared to act aghast at his insinuation, but he just shook his head in amusement. Malfoy looked around them, taking in the modest room she would be occupying the entire semester.

“Strange, Miss Granger. Your room. Would’ve thought you were more neat. Even you toss your robes over your chair at the end of the day.”

“I’ll have detention for a week if anyone finds out that you’re here.”

“Well. It’s a good thing I was going to leave under the cover of darkness, anyhow.” He lifted her from his side, slowly swinging his legs until his feet touched the ground. Malfoy paused, shoulder-to-shoulder with Hermione. She felt a bit of panic surge at the idea that he might be heading right back into the viper pit, but all he did was nudge her. She looked down at her knees to avoid his studious eye. Here she was, sat with a boy on her bed, in her favorite tartan sleep pants.

“Just…” Hermione swallowed her nerves. “What if you went to the Hospital wing in the morning?”

He leaned in close. “You worried about me?” His breath tickled her cheek. Hermione turned her head, and her nose brushed against his.

“...Unfortunately.”

“Mmm. It’s nice.”

“If you recall, that is why we're here.”

“Right. So.” He nuzzled her. “Perhaps this is all really your fault.”

Hermione sighed and rested her forehead against his. “Humor me?”

“You know I will.”

It was so easy to tilt up her chin, and she did so. His breath caught. Hermione pulled back sharply. “Sorry, you’re hurt—”

He gave her no chance to continue her apology. If his face still ached, it seemed he wasn’t about to let it stop him kissing her. He always began with a soft peck to her upper lip. It was a question he was giving her a chance to answer. There was no wondering with him, if he felt himself wandering in his mind on other topics. He was present. The only thing he had to do was kiss her. He worried her bottom lip, flickering his tongue against the plush skin. Her fingers curled into his arms, but it wasn’t satisfactory; she broke the kiss for but a moment to stand between his knees instead of side-by-side. For the briefest moment, the thought had occurred to her to pull him back onto the bed, but the idea had been frightened out of her head by panic. Cormac had tried that on her during the brief time that she had allowed him to be within ten feet of her body. She didn’t feel in danger with Malfoy, as she did with Cormac, as if things were on his terms alone. She felt alive. Like things might feel just a little bit easier, in general, if she memorized the sensation of his lips.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. That temporary madness struck her again, the kind which cleared her head of any rationality. Hermione greedily took his hair between her fingers. He hummed in appreciation. What she wouldn’t give for a peek inside his head. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t care. He was warm and sturdy and soft… just like she had dreamed.

A flash of regret hit her square in the chest at the remembrance of the prior day, and the revelation of his Dark Mark. She gasped and broke apart from him, though she still clutched at his shoulders for dear life. He looked puzzled, and his lips were red, as she was certain hers would be.

“Mm—Malfoy, I don’t know—“

“Granger,” he groaned. He pressed his face into her sternum and squeezed her tight. “Please don’t say it. Lord, I want to kiss you, and I am so tired of pretending to be surprised by it.”

It wasn’t so hard to agree, though she did so wordlessly, tracing circles at his nape. Hermione tugged at his collar so he would look at her. When he did so, she smoothed away the concerned wrinkle between his brows. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.

“I was just going to say…” Hermione cleared her throat to make room for the courage to take root, there. “I don’t think you’ll make it anywhere tonight without getting caught. So. If you want, you can… stay here.”

His eyebrows climbed towards his hairline. “Is it worth detention?”

“Look, it’s late and… and I’ll know that you’re alright, if you stay.”

“Hmm. Never slept in the same bed as another person.” He said it so innocently, but it made her heart race.

“You still won’t. I’ll sleep on the rug,” she laughed. Her cheeks flushed, and he shook his head.

“Now that I won’t allow.” He stood up, arms still looped around her back like they lived there. “My mother would disown me if she found out I let a girl sleep on the ground, while I took the bed. You know, if my father hadn’t already done so.”

She kissed him for that. An apology for something that was partly her doing, though she had no idea her fleeting instinct to grab for him during the battle would result in such a thing. He kissed her back as if to say, ‘it isn’t your doing.’

Hermione handed him over her quilt, which had been made of her old Gryffindor house robes by her mother (the delight in the idea of Malfoy sleeping under Gryffindor colors was a joy that would not be matched), and a spare pillow. He knelt down to take his ease. It took bracing himself on the mattress to do so, which meant he was close again. He found his handkerchief under her bed and scourgified it. Then, the boy settled on his makeshift bed.

She allowed herself to observe him… not as himself, per se, but as this strange phenomenon. He hadn’t looked like this boy before her in her Summertime dreams, and not just because he was currently boasting a shiner that would give any heavyweight boxer a run for his money. He was taller now, and strong from training all Summer. His hair was shorter too, more deliberate than it had been in May when had other things to occupy his thoughts.

In every dreamy moment, he had been an enigma to her. Some nights, he had pushed her arm away and taken up his place with his father at Voldemort’s right hand, but every single time, he had looked down at her first and said… thanks. His grey-blue eyes were sad, too. Sad to say it, or sad to go. Sometimes both. In one particular dream, he had asked her ‘why’, and as easy as breathing, she had tugged his arm until he bent close to her face and kissed him. In that particular dream, he had gone to Voldemort anyway, and she had woken up crying.

“Malfoy.” She leaned up on her elbow. He had been staring at the wall, but he rolled over.

“Hmm.”

“Why did you come here, instead of going to Madam Pomfrey?”

Malfoy kept her gaze unblinking. “You’re the only person in this castle who seems to care about me, in any conceivable way. The only thing I could think of when I came to was you.”

“This is… so strange.” She laid her cheek on her hand, which made it easier to gauge his expression as he watched her.

“I haven’t got anyone in the whole world, Granger. Except, suddenly… a You. Strange or not,” he sighed, “I’m not a fool. I know what I’ve done.” He reached out his hand to her. Hermione laced his fingers with hers. “But I’m going to try to make it right with you.”

“Against all logic and reason, it seems I have a mind to let you.” She smiled as his jaw slackened in relief. He rubbed her thumb with his.

“You do not know what it is to be touched so... sweetly, after all that has happened.”

“Don’t I?” Hermione sighed. “I’ve been starved for it.”

“Would you do so, where others could see?”

She felt a prickle that was equal parts anxiety and excitement to consider it--what it might mean to… be affectionate with another person again, as if it were nothing; holding hands down the hallways, kisses for luck before a quidditch match, the whole of it. Her relationship with Cormac hadn’t become known until after it was long over. What would it be like to have something to which other people would be witness?

“Forget I asked, I don’t know why I did it--” Malfoy made like he was going to release her and roll over.

“Wait!” She held fast to his hand. “I was just imagining it. That’s all.”

“You didn’t say anything. That’s not like you.”

She wrinkled her nose up at the jest. “If tonight is any indication, doing so would only put you at risk. Or… or open you up to ridicule.”

“I’m used to it. But if you’re not wanting--”

“Okay.”

He sat up. “You’re serious…”

“Sure. I’ll make it part of your penance, if that’s what you want, though I’m starting to think this is less about atonement for you.” She grinned. He crawled over to her and knelt beside the bed so he could hug her. She laughed into his shirt. “Tomorrow, you have to go to the Hospital wing, and walk everywhere with me, and hold my hand where other people might see you.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll forget about my having a conversation with your mates, in exchange for such a mercy.”

"You wish."

"What did you tell them after yesterday?"

"Nothing. I wouldn't answer their questions," she laughed.

He groaned. "So, I'm assuming I am to do that..."

“At least one part of this has to be torture for you.”

He kissed her hair and sat back on his heels. “What torture it shall be.”

“You are so dramatic. Go to sleep.”

Malfoy bowed. “Goodnight,” he said softly.

“Goodnight. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“I know.”

He slipped under the quilt once again, and Hermione turned out the light. The room was pitch dark, but it wasn’t loneliness which accompanied the dark this time. There was the slightly wheezy breathing from the boy on the floor through his healing nose, and eager anticipation for the morning to come. With it, a new challenge.

She stared up into the darkness. While Malfoy was being looked over by Madame Pomfrey before breakfast, Hermione would be having a conversation with a Slytherin. Either the head of house, or the one with the signet ring splashed in Draco Malfoy’s blood. Whichever she found first. One of them had better have Malfoy’s wand, too; if not, sitting beside Malfoy at breakfast wouldn’t be the biggest surprise she’d manifest tomorrow.

And then on to the Headmistress to demand a few more answers, and get him a room in the Eighth Year dorm with the rest of their classmates, where he could go to bed without worry. Otherwise he might become a permanent fixture in her room. Near her bed, even.

Hermione pulled her covers up to her chin. If he were still awake, there was no way he could see her red cheeks in the dark.

Part 2

Part 4

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