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httpsuniverse · 9 months

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babe [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — lando norris x reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — angst, some hate comments . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ another one from the drafts! enjoy <3

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

f1wags

16,920 likes

f1wags y/n’s ig story update today! it seems as though lando norris is officially off the market as the 2020 season comes to an end, congratulations to the happy couple! 🥳❤️

view all 1,839 comments

user what omg

user from childhood bestie to fiancée 🥹 dang when’s it my turn!!!

user i just woke up wtf !!! congratulations mum and dad landonorris yourusername

december 15, 2020

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername how can i ever say no to that face 😟 you’re making our childhood dream come true 💘

view all 599 comments

user lando lmao 👉🏻🫦👈🏻

f1 congratulations, y/n and lando!

mclaren congratulations 🫡💒

yourbffsig omg bestie!! 😻 congrats, i love you both!!

yourusername you’re coming back home for our wedding 😤 i’m not taking no for an answer

yourbffsig as if i’m gonna say no!! 😤

december 16, 2020

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, alex_albon and others

landonorris promoted from boyfriend to fiancé! you can never get rid of me now, y/n y/l/n 😜 i love you!

view all 2,842 comments

maxfewtrell remember when you told me you were determined to make her a norris?

yourusername ugh hes so obsessed w me 🙄

maxfewtrell yeah it’s annoying 🤢

landonorris i hate you both, give me back the ring yourusername i unpropose to you

yourusername 😽😽

december 16, 2020

landonorris and yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, yourbffsig and 1,392,942 others

landonorris two years ago, we exchanged our vows on valentine’s 💗 happy valentine’s and 2nd anniversary, my hot, beautiful wife. to more adventures and years to us 🥂 i love you.

view all 21,839 comments

yourusername happy anniversary to us, my love!!

landonorris i’m still obsessed with you

yourusername when are you not baby 🤭

yourbffsig ugh u two disgust me but stay in love ig

user i still can’t believe lando is really off the market for two years now 😔

yourmomsig stay in love, you two!! 🤍

user will we be expecting baby norris this year? if no, why not 😭

yourusername no plans for baby norris yet! me and lando are children ourselves 😂

— ❤️ by landonorris

user dinks, my fav dinks.

user can u adopt me instead

february 14, 2023

f1wags

10,729 likes

f1wags we haven’t had a glimpse of y/n in the paddock the past few races, so here’s some throwback pictures with husband, lando norris! 🤍

view all 189 comments

user i miss her :(

user so i’m not going CRAZY for noticing that she hasn’t been to any races this season...

user maybe she’s pregnant or something

user nahh impossible, y/n herself said that they don’t have any plans for baby norris yet.

user right.. that could only be the plausible reason why she’s not attending races 🙄

user maybe she’s just busy with work, she has a career herself

user no bc think about it.. it’s already round 10 and we haven’t seen her since bahrain, not even during testing 💀

user well, silverstone’s up next. let’s just hope she’s there for lando’s home race

user we can just hope

july 02, 2023

f1gossip

5,930 likes

f1gossip y/n’s now deleted ig story today. wonder what’s happening between the young couple? 🤔

view all 193 comments

user NO WHAT

user I JUST WOEK UP WHAT IS THIS DRAMA

user MAYBE ITS JUST NOTHING PLS MAYBE SHES JIST LISTENING TO MUSIC I MEAN IT’S TAYLOR !!!! WJO DOESN’T LISTEN TO TAYLOR

user ...me... i don’t listen to taylor 😬

user what rhe heck u have to listen NOW

user miss maam r u ok yourusername

user not on silverstone weekend 😭

july 07, 2023

yourusername

el nido, palawan

liked by yourbffsig, yourmomsig and others

yourusername let the sea set you free

view all 749 comments

user miss maam we miss u around the paddock PLS COME BACK

user omg she got a tattoo 🥹 it looks so pretty

yourbffsig i hope you enjoyed your stay with me 🥺

yourusername duh, ofc!! was the most fun month of my life 💗 see you in bali ;)

yourbffsig OMG YES see you in a week, enjoy your remaining days in el nido 😽 love you and take care!!

yourmomsig my beautiful daughter, i love you whatever happens 🤍 glas you’re enjoying philippines x

yourusername aaaa love and miss you mum 🥹 be back soon <3

yoursistersig what about me 😒

yourusername stfu you’re literally coming to bali with me

yoursistersig oh yea lol

user the comments from y/n’s friends and family are scaring me (kinda)

user have u noticed that lando hasn’t commented anything or even leave a like ... i miss his obsessed hubby comments

user plus her last ig story 😓

user oh god pls dont do this to me

user are yall thinking what im thinking...?

user whatever you’re thinking, pls keep it to yourself PLS I CANNOT DO THIS.

user so... you’re m.i.a in silverstone?

july 08, 2023

landonorris

liked by f1, oscarpiastri, mclaren, lewishamilton and 1,613,093 others

landonorris p2 and a 🏆 at my home race!!!!! ❤️ you guys are crazyyyyyyyyyy 💙

view all 9,441 comments

mclaren proud 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

masonmount congrats brother!

maxfewtrell absolute scenes, proud brother 🧡

user no signs of y/n here ... 🤔

user ikr like where tf is she

user haven’t seen her since the beginning of this silly season

user she’s out there weeping while her husband’s winning 😹

yourusername

bali, indonesia

liked by yourbffsig, yourmomsig, f1wags and 153,920 others

yourusername crazy how time flies when you’re being yourself; careless and free 🍃

view all 490 comments

yourbffsig love the glow these days! miss you terribly 💔

yourusername don’t be dramatic, you’ll be here in a few days 😛

yourbffsig 🙄 let me be dramatic pls

user uh excuse me maam, you have some races to attend to?

user she’s not really obligated to attend lol let her live her life.

user uh she has a husband who she needs to support? duh? besides, whose money do you think she’s spending?

user y/n earns her own money, she has her own business even before she and lando tied the knot. she has a degree for that, icydk.

user all this time i thought she was a sahw lmfao

user the username of her business is literally on her bio, in case you haven’t seen it :)

yoursistersig love how you look in the first picture 😂 wearing shades because you cried all night?

yourusername i was drunk, in my defense.

yoursistersig yeah, you’re one drunk crier 😂

yourusername quit exposing me please 🥲

user no “congrats lando!”? no “p2 baby!!”? none? ok

user no cuz i rly thought she’d at least say congrats 😐

user imagine securing a podium on ur home race and ur wife cant congratulate u lmao sad life for lando norris

user i hope you’re ignoring the hate comments and healing, y/n ❤️ your peace of mind comes first over everything

user she knew what she was getting into when she married lando, she should be tough enough to read the comments 😂

f1wags

12,420 likes

f1wags updates on lando & y/n! seems like their fairytale love story is over which is why we haven’t seen y/n lately every race weekend!

view all 3,826 comments

user um what

user not them 💔

user omg i feel bad for y/n

user everything probably took a toll on her mental health

user i hope she’s healing and resting, also i hope she’s not pressuring herself on healing :(

user from strangers to childhood besties to lovers to strangers again :/

user damn this hit hard

user dont do this to me please.

user i knew the caption on her last post meant something 😭

#lando norris imagine #lando norris angst #lando norris one shot #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris insta au #f1 imagine #f1 fan fic #f1 one shot #f1 instagram au #f1 instagram edit #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader

2K notes · View notes

rynwritesreid · 5 months

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Hiii, may I ask a request? something like, taking a train trip with Reid, he doesn't want to hold the bar because of the germs, so he has to hold himself on reader or he would fall. they can be friends or a couple, whatever. Love your work, Thank uuuu!

This is probably the most in-character I have ever written about Spencer :) I really enjoyed this, thank you for the request 💕

Content: Germaphobe Spencer. I don’t think I’ve mentioned pronouns for reader.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

You and Spencer stood next to each other on the crowded subway station. You knew the train was going to be packed, and you’d be lucky to find a seat. It was these very moments you wished Spencer didn’t mind driving, or that you had learnt to drive.

You looked over to Spencer, whose face was contorted into disgust. His eyes scanning the platform, trying to see if there was a more spacious area, but no luck.

“Hey Spence, don’t worry the train will be here soon. I hate this as much as you.” You weren’t a germaphobe, but you didn’t enjoy crowded spaces and your job had made you hyper-aware, so every move somebody made you flinch.

Spencer only offered a small smile in return. Finally, over the noise of the crowd, you heard the rhythmic metallic clatter of the train wheels on the tracks. The crowd moved towards the edge of the platform, pushing you and Spencer closer together.

Once you were both on the train, you both looked up and down the carriage, trying to see if there were any available seats. You both let out a sigh when you realised you were going to have to stand the entire journey.

You reached your arm up to grab the bar, noticing Spencer’s arms remained by his side. His expression turned into one of mild horror as he eyed the seemingly germ-ridden handrail.

"Spence, it's just a bar," you teased, trying to ease the tension.

“It’s not just a bar. It’s a breeding ground for all kind of bacteria, I’d rather kiss every person on this train, then hold onto that.”

You let out a small giggle, thinking about Spencer walking up and down the carriage offering everyone a kiss. “I’m sure everyone would enjoy you kissing them, Spence.”

He just glared at you for a second, not even giving you a small smile.

“Spence, please just grab the railing, you’re going to fall if you don’t.”

“I’m not holding on to that bar.”

“Fine, but you’re going to fall into all these people, and I don’t think they’d enjoy that.” You warned with a smirk.

Spencer shot you a stubborn look but eventually sighed, realizing the inevitable. As the train lurched forward, he hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping an arm around you for support.

“There, happy?” he muttered; his cheeks slightly flushed.

“I’m always happy when you’re not going around kissing strangers.” you replied with a playful grin.

Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a small chuckle. The train journey became a blend of amusing banter and shared glances, with Spencer still refusing to touch the bar. Instead, he clung to your arm as the train swayed, earning a few curious looks from other passengers.

As you both navigated the crowded carriage, Spencer's initial reluctance seemed to melt away, replaced by a shared sense of camaraderie in facing the subway chaos together. The train made its stops, passengers shuffled in and out, and Spencer's grip on your arm remained steadfast.

You stole a glance at him, noticing the genuine smile playing on his lips. "You know, Spence, I’m glad you’re a germaphobe, you’ve made this journey ten times more entertaining than it usually is.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "Well, I do have a knack for turning the mundane into the extraordinary."

~join my taglist~you can also request on here~

~taglist~

@iluvreid @piperb400 @bitchassbecky691 @purplepistachi0 @theillestvillian3 @pleasantwitchgarden @spencerreidwifeee @xohoneybun @julllliiia @krokietino @emalynvtgtgfhvgg @starkid024 @oliviah-25 @evvy96 @ms-ks-world @drspencieee @nomajdetective

584 notes · View notes

dyeher · 4 months

Text

High Stakes| Ran H.

Includes| secret agent! Ran Haitani x secret agent! Reader

Warnings| fem! reader, violence, murder, mentioned gambling, implied harassment, guns, mirror sex, dry humping, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, choking, creampie, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Notes| mwah! another repost.

Ran is making plans to return to the Bloody Lotus when he’s not working. Bright eyes scan the clientele, and fingers drum the side of his glass, he decides he likes the energy. Rich people are always eager to spend their earnings, to show off their pregnant coin purses and boast about investments and returns and how they’ve recently deprived the world of another useless piece of art that costs more than it has any right to. Rich people paired with alcohol makes this place a breeding ground for ‘Too Much Information’. Ran affectionately calls it TMI, and it’s the reason he’s here tonight. To collect some of that.

When he returns though, when he’s off the clock, he’ll be here for the pretty call girls and the lacquered cards that are screaming his name. Absently he raises his glass to his lips. Tonight he is not Ran Haitani, Agent 001. Tonight he is simply Ran Haitani, one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors, and a potential investor in whatever business venture Izana Kurokawa has cooked up.

He glances around the lobby, careful not to make eye contact with you as the balding man’s hand snags on the exposed flesh of your upper thigh. Ran’s grip on his glass tightens reflexively. He reminds himself that if he kills Lorano now they’re fucked and you would’ve been groped for no reason. He remains quiet, pretending to take in the brightly lit room with its marbled floor and high ceiling.

To his left is the entrance to the VIP section where he’s currently perched at the bar. It’s a pair of glass doors flanked on either side by two large men dressed to the nines but sporting firearms. Through the glass, he can see regular patrons, the upper-middle-class dressed in their best and whispering to each other over glasses of overpriced champagne. Some are gambling their way down the social ladder without really paying any attention to it.

To his right is the entrance to Izana’s private quarters. Well, for the most part. To his right actually stands a set of hand-carved mahogany double doors. Those doors don’t lead anywhere. Behind them is an elevator leading to the rooftop of this fine establishment and the only true way to access Izana’s quarters is from the rooftop entrance. A little way off from those doors is a simple nondescript door that leads to the stairwell on the inside of the building. The stairwell gets as high as the private rooms of Izana’s friends. If all went well Ran would be on that floor within the hour.

He’s brought out of his reverie when you warble spilling a little of the drink in your tray onto Lorano. He’s impressed by your ability to mold into any character as he listens through the earpiece. You lay on a faux Italian accent, as you scramble to apologize that immediately has Lorano perking up, and Ran has to sip from his glass to cover his disgust when one of the buttons on the man’s shirt pops open at the movement.

Izana dresses his female employees in the most ridiculous things. Tonight’s number is a sheer black leotard, the front covered in some sort of stitched design that just barely covers your breasts, the back so low it dips beneath the band of the too-tight, too-short black skirt paired with it. The shoes are strappy and wound all the way up to above your knee. The heel and platform are so high that Ran winces internally as he watches the ease with which some of these girls can maneuver the tables and crowd in them.

He’s whispering to you in rapid-fire Italian, things Ran wishes he didn’t understand, promises to treat you right, questions about how long you’ll be working for. His grubby hands trail down to your thigh when you bend across him to replace his drink and even from this distance Ran can see the way your fingers on the tray flex.

An irrational amount of pride swells in his gut when your smile doesn’t even waiver, and for a second he’s so transfixed he almost doesn’t hear when one of Lorano’s lackeys bends into his other ear to let him know Izana was ready for him. Ran’s heart slows, his eyes locking with yours as he starts moving. Based on Wakasa’s intel Izana’s meetings are held on the roof, and there should be a viewing room on that floor. Only one elevator goes to that floor and it requires either Izana’s Identification card or the code, a code only he knows. Ran subtly adjusts the face of his watch, a beautiful Patek Phillipe piece he’d paid Inui out of pocket to have modified. He chuckles when he reaches the door of the stairwell and Wakasa’s voice filters through his ear.

“I think I threw up in my mouth a little when Lorano asked if she eats ass,” Ran can hear Wakasa’s shudder. He uses the knuckle on his index to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, activating the screen on the camera on the left screen. “Take a step back Ran, need to see the entire door.” Ran shuffles back feigning glancing at the floor in front of the door and then back up. “Thank you,” Wakasa says, and Ran fidgets as he begins to count down in his head. “You ready big guy? You have thirty seconds to climb three flights of stairs before the camera’s auto-reboot.”

Ran glances to his left and right quickly before nodding. “Go.”

He doesn’t even register the door slamming behind him as he flies up the stairs. He’s mastered the art of running in suits at this point. His chain lifts with his movements until finally, he catches the pendant between his teeth to stop it. He uses the rail to hoist himself up, taking the stairs four at a time until the leather sole of his shoe lands on the dark marble of the top floor. He skids a little, catching himself on the wall. “Twenty-six seconds,” Wakasa tells him. “Not bad.”

Ran chuckles. “You talk too much Wakasa. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“You,” Wakasa retorts. “Every time we work together.”

“Lorano’s on his way up,” your voice interrupts them both. “And I’m coming with him.”

Ran tenses. “That was not part of the fucking plan,” he says as he stalks the length of the hall. He passes his room, heading for the elevator. He watches as the numbers change.

“Yeah but it’s smarter than the original,” Wakasa admits. “If she gets up there Izana’ll send her back down because employees aren’t allowed on that floor. Which means she’ll control the elevator.”

Ran curses, because Wakasa’s right. “Fuck.” He watches as the elevator gets to the top floor and then ten minutes later he watches as it begins its descent. The impromptu change works and Ran finds himself face to face with you not thirty seconds later.

“Camera’s are down,” Wakasa announces. “Double-loop so it looks like she came off the elevator. Shouldn’t have any issues if no one is standing at the elevator doors.”

And no one is standing there. In fact, getting into the viewing area is too easy, not only that but they find that it’s not just a viewing area. Ran takes a good scan of the room following Wakasa’s instructions until they land on a row of computers and Wakasa almost moans in both your ears. It’s the central command.

“I despise Izana Kurokawa,” he hisses. “I hope he knows I’m praying for his downfall. Specifically, because this setup is so beautiful he doesn’t deserve it.”

Ran glances at you out of the corner of his eye and almost swallows his tongue when he finds you squatting at one of the outlets. Your ass stretches the material of the skirt and Ran has to force himself to look away as you get on your knees to press the switch. One of the older computers lights up next to Ran and Wakasa honest-to-gods giggles.

“Ran, plug the flash drive in there,” Wakasa instructs. “Turn it on and where is my beautiful little amateur hacker. Get your ass over here.”

Ran tunes in to the conversation between Izana and Lorano, looking out through the glass at them from his spot. Izana as always is dressed in some elaborate get up, his second in command stands to his left his arms folded and the disgust in his expression clear as he looks at Lorano.

“It’s quite simple,” Izana is saying. “You join me, I get control of your men, I pay you to speak when spoken to.”

Lorano looks torn. “It’s not that simple, my men will not respect me anymore,” he tries to explain.

“Lorano,” Izana coos. “Your men don’t pay you. Your men are ungrateful pigs. Your men are incompetent criminals. Your men are failures as men. Their respect for you isn’t worth hot shit even if it came from a god.” Izana’s men laugh and Ran winces at the shade of red Lorano turns. “Think about the respect you’ll earn from the rest of Japan when they find you’re associated with me.”

This seems to give Lorano pause and Ran scoffs. He wonders what Izana might have offered him if he planned to stick around long enough to hear.

“How much are you offering?” Lorano finally says.

“I’m offering you a salary,” Izana says slowly, in case Lorano misunderstood. “Not a percentage cut of the shit I make.”

Lorano swallows, and the microchip in the collar of his shirt picks up the sound extra loudly. Ran almost gags. “How much?”

“Five hundred thousand dollars a month,” Izana says and Ran is appalled at the way Lorano immediately agrees. He wonders if Lorano knows that he’s signing this document in his blood. And just as Ran expected when Izana verifies that Lorano has in fact signed over his properties and his men he opens his palm and Ran shifts when a gun is placed in it. “It was great doing business with you,” Izana frowns and Lorano doesn’t have time to scream before the gun goes off and his pudgy body is falling face first into his dinner, blood mixing with the delicacies on the plate. Ran’s thoughts are interrupted by Wakasa’s curse.

“What?” he snaps turning back to where you’re tapping away at the computer screen.

“You’ve got company,” Wakasa says quickly. “Fuck. Two incoming looks like Izana’s personal guard and the Head of Security.”

Ran’s head snaps to the door when he hears the telltale sounds of footsteps coming down the corridor. “How much longer, angel?”

You tap away at the keyboard rapidly. “We’re at 87%,” you scramble to type faster but Ran’s already dragging you away from the desk. “What the fuck are you—”

“You can punch me in the face afterward,” he whispers quickly. And then he’s kissing you. Tentatively at first, just a soft brushing of his lips that immediately has you relaxing in his hold. One large hand cups your face to angle your head better and the other dips into the base of your spine, curling you closer to him. His fingertips are warm as they trail the length of your spine. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shudder, your nipples pebbling in the thin material at the contact. You’re frozen, struck dumb by the gentleness of his kiss, eyes wide open so you see the way long lashes brush the tops of his cheeks.

Ran pulls back just far enough to growl against your mouth. “Kiss me back, angel.” And then he’s running the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip and they’re parting to let him in. His tongue is eager and warm and so soft as it brushes confidently at yours that your toes curl.

Your body presses closer to his, your hands winding around his shoulders as you kiss him back. It’s the consent he needed. The kiss grows intense, Ran’s tongue dipping farther, his head slanting to deepen the kiss. You’re suddenly reminded of your lack of underwear when Ran’s hand comes up to grasp the back of your head, the one cupping your face drops to your thigh as he backs you into the desk. He hoists you onto the surface easily, your body displacing the keyboard, and stack of papers next to it. His grip on your thigh slips to the back of your knee and he hikes it up around his waist, to slot himself between your legs, bending you back a little so you’re propped against the monitor.

“Fuck,” he groans when your fingers tangle in his hair. You tug his head back harshly, desperation making your movements a little rough as you press sloppy, lipstick stain kisses along the side of his neck and the column of his throat. You wonder if he’s wanted to do this as bad as you have. If he’s ever lost sleep thinking about the contours of your body the way you have. Or imagined the softness of your lips, the taste of your mouth, the feel of your hands on him. Because you’ve spent countless nights with your fingers between the folds of your pussy, rubbing circles into your clit imagining they’re Ran Haitani’s fingers or his tongue. Many nights with your dildo pumping furiously into you imagining it’s Ran Haitani’s cock molding and shaping your insides for him.

The guards are forgotten as Ran presses the length of his body to yours. The hard outline of his cock rubs into the damp crotch of your leotard when you finally bring your lips back to his. Your kissing becomes frantic and sloppy. Ran devours your mouth, fucking it with his tongue in a way you know he’d easily replicate in your cunt. Your body bucks when his fingers climb your thigh, his knuckles rubbing the sensitive skin as it inches higher. You moan into his mouth and Ran’s responding chuckle sends chills down your spine.

“Bet you’ve soaked through this flimsy thing,” he mumbles, lips not pulling away far enough for you to focus on his features. His kisses move from your lips down to your neck and throat. “Probably got a messy little pussy.”

You whine, arching as though you can get any closer than you already are. Your fingers catch in his jacket as you try to push them off his shoulders. Ran eases back just enough to free his arms, dropping the jacket next to you as he resumes his previous position. You get a glimpse of how well he fills out the silk shirt beneath and realize this isn’t enough. You want to feel his skin, you want to rake your nails down his back and mark him with your teeth. Just as you think this Ran’s teeth latch onto the erogenous area where your neck and shoulders meet. Your moan is absolutely wanton. You feel him shudder in your arms as he reaches for the strap of the onesie and rips it down your arm freeing one of your breasts for his hungry mouth. It’s only as you toss your head back, lips parted on a sigh at the gentle sucking of Ran’s mouth on your nipple, to give him better access to your body, that you see the two men in the doorway.

Your squeak of surprise is genuine as your hand scrambles to clutch Ran’s shoulders. The sound seems to snap both men out of their stupor and you watch as they straighten to their full height. Your mind clears quickly, embarrassment sinking like lead in the pit of your stomach at your actions. Ran’s grin is lazy, almost natural as he glances over his shoulder, you’re grateful for the width of him as he angles his body to block out whatever view they might’ve had of you. One of Ran’s hands still clutches your waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as though he knows you’re struggling to get it together.

“Gentlemen?” Ran’s smile falters perfectly, even the breathless hitch in his tone is staged. It feels like a bucket of ice water has been doused on you. Of course. Of course, none of this was real. He’d just saved both your asses. You wonder if he knows you weren’t acting. You tense in his arms and his grip on your waist tightens. “Can we help you?”

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” the shorter one says. Even from here, you can tell he’s the scarier and more than likely Izana’s head of security. Bleached buzzcut with parallel strips of his natural hair color running from the corners of his hairline back. You might’ve giggled at the fact that he resembled a tennis ball if he didn’t pull his gun. His eyes narrow when Ran frowns and glances at you.

“Sorry? Is this not the guest floor?” Ran’s confusion is so convincing you almost don’t feel when he slips the flash drive up your thighs. It takes all of your self-control not to react as his fingers dip into the sticky mess between your thighs and slide the flash drive flat across the crotch of the leotard. Your hand snaps out to clutch his arm and he chuckles. “She’s a needy thing,” he shrugs. “Couldn’t quite make it to my room.”

The taller one adjusts his glasses and steps into the room and Tennis ball follows him. “How’d you get up here, Mr. Haitani?”

Ran blinks at him like he’s stupid. “The elevator?” You squirm in his arms, playing your part as the brainless, shy employee, who’ll probably get in trouble for fraternizing with one of Izana’s VIP guests. Ran straightens to his full height, fixing the straps of your onesie and closing your legs as he turns to face both men. He stands a little shorter than the one with the glasses but he’s broader and you know that if this comes down to a fight you could take the taller one while Ran takes the other. “What’s really going on here? Have I done something wrong?” His tone is carefully accusing.

Glasses sighs through his nose. He knows there’s no way Ran should’ve gotten to this floor undetected but starting a fight with one of Izana’s friends is the last thing he needs to do right now. “This floor is off-limits to guests. They lead to Mr. Kurokawa’s private rooms.”

Ran’s expression morphs into a perfect mask of embarrassment and regret. You hope the horror in your expression as you clamber to your feet, swaying a little in your heels is convincing. “Ah, sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Got a little distracted,” he motions with his thumb to you over his shoulder and you look away. “We can move.”

He reaches for his jacket when Tennis ball chips in. “Wait a minute,” he says, slipping his gun back into the holster. “You’re not leaving until we search you.”

Ran bristles as they expect him to, head jerking back like he’s been slapped. His jaw clenches, fingers flexing. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said Mr. Haitani,” Tennis ball snatches Ran’s jacket and passes it to Glasses who begins to rummage through the pockets. “Spread your legs for me.” Ran tenses but does as he’s told.

The flash drive feels like it’s weighing you down as Ran gets the all-clear and Glasses starts toward you. “Seriously?” Ran scoffs. “She’s half-naked, where the fuck would she hide anything?”

That seems to give both men pause. You make sure to shudder for good measure as they step aside. Ran grabs your arm glaring at both men as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and guides you out of the room. Glasses follows after you, making a quick call for someone to send the elevator down before taking you both down to the VIP floor. “This is you,” he says nodding at Ran as he leads you out of the elevator.

Ran takes you to his room and as soon as the doors are closed you shrug off his jacket. Your heart is pounding in your chest. That could’ve gone horribly. Your hands are trembling as you wobble over to the spacious bathroom.

“You still make the prettiest sounds,” Wakasa’s voice comes over the earpiece, and you yelp, stumbling back and almost falling onto your ass. In the midst of everything it seems you’d both forgotten about Wakasa. “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says gently. “Just thought you should know. They’re the still prettiest I’ve ever heard.”

“Wakasa,” you hiss. “Can Ran-

“He can’t,” Wakasa reassures you. “I muted us. I’m gonna take these off until you’re out of this room. In case, you want to finish what you started.” You open your mouth to argue that you were just trying to save your asses when Wakasa continues. “And before you tell me you were just trying to stay alive try to remember how well I know you.”

There’s a distinct click and you know Wakasa can no longer hear you. A tentative knock sounds on the door and Ran’s voice carries through the wood. “You good in there?” He asks. “We got what we came for, we can leave.”

His comment reminds you of his earlier actions and you immediately reach between your thighs and pull the slippery flash drive free, yank open the door and slap it against his chest. “Yeah,” you say giddily. “I’m about ready to go.” And then you haul your fist back and slam it into his nose. “Do not ever do some shit like that again,” you snap. “Next time we fucking kill them.”

Ran’s eyes darken, as he clutches his nose. It’s not broken but it hurts like a motherfucker and he’s not at all surprised when he inhales and it burns. His eyes water as he glares at you incredulously. “You’re not serious.”

“Deathly,” you say, releasing the flash drive so he has to scramble to catch it. It’s soaked in your arousal, the scent heady as he clutches it. You poke him in the chest. “If you ever, ever touch me like that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

Silence envelopes you for a few seconds and then Ran chuckles. You’re about to snap at him again when his hand wraps around your throat. “You’re so transparent,” he smirks. “I bet you’re not even mad I touched you.” He squeezes your throat, backing you into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “You’re probably mad because we were interrupted,” he drops the flash drive on the counter. “Mad that you didn’t get to cum.” He’s slowly cutting off the blood flow to your head, his fingers pressing into the blood vessels on either side of your neck. “Wanted me to clean up the mess I made of your pussy?”

His free arm wraps around your waist and lifts you onto the counter, your hands immediately reach for the wrist of the hand around your throat, your nails dig into the soft flesh as he scoots back onto the counter and spreads your legs to make room for him. You’re dizzy by the time his grip loosens. “Answer me,” his voice softens to just above a whisper, his finger massaging your neck gently. “Do you want me to clean up the mess I made, angel? Is that what this is about?”

You almost shake your head but Ran gives you a look. Like he’ll know if you’re lying. Like you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity. So you nod, swallowing when he flashes you a beautiful smile. “Yeah? But I need to hear you say it,” he breathes. “Say ‘Please eat my pussy Ran’. Go on.”

His hand has reached your jaw and his thumb is rubbing distracting little circles into the side of your bottom lip as you repeat after him. A not of breathlessness in your voice. “Please- please eat my pussy Ran.”

His groan as he leans forward to kiss the spot he’d been rubbing has your heart rate increasing, the organ beating wildly at his words. “You don’t know how badly I need to taste you.” He drops to his knees, careful to work your feet out of your heels before he kisses the inside of one ankle and then your calf that he massages and then the inside of your knee and then the fat of your thighs until he’s propping that foot on the edge of the counter and then he does the same to the other. Showering them in kisses, massaging them until they’re jelly and then he’s easing your skirt over your thighs. Working it down to your ankles and discarding it next to him on the floor. He’s almost reverent. The way he treats your body, and it makes sense. Because it feels a lot like he’s worshipping you.

He takes a moment to take you in. The leotard is cut higher than he’d initially expected and he almost salivates as he watches you bring your legs back up to the counter, butterflying them open for him. An entire lip of your pussy has escaped the scrap of material that should be covering it. He can’t help himself when he leans forward to suck the poor flesh into his mouth. And the sound he makes when he finally gets your taste on his tongue makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. One hand wraps loosely around an ankle as he shuffles closer, his nose brushing into your cunt as he pulls back with a wet smack only to latch onto the ruined material between your thighs. His other hand rests in the juncture of your thigh, his thumb pulling apart your pussy. “Look how fucking pretty that is,” he whispers to himself, as strings of arousal stretch and snap each time he repeats the movement. “Fucking hell.”

You reach for his head, fingers sinking into his hair to tug him closer. “Fuck,” you whine. “Ran!” Your body bows when he pushes the material to the side and properly buries his tongue into your cunt. He fucks you with it like you imagine he’d fuck you with his cock. His head bobbing, nose bumping into your clit. He groans again at the rush of liquid that floods his mouth as you squirm.

Ran’s hands press your legs a little wider when he pulls back to spit on your cunt. He watches, eyes wide, lips parted and glistening with your arousal as the spit drips down to your entrance. He drops his head between your legs again just give your clit a soft kiss. He chuckles when you whine his name, your hold on him slackening when he dips the index of one finger into your cunt. Your body swallows him eagerly, your walls squeezing around the digit. He removes it to add another two to it, his brows furrowing as he watches the way your cunt struggles to take those three fingers. “Shit and you’re so fucking tight,” he groans.

You squeal when he stands, fingers still buried in your pussy, to kiss you. He swallows every little noise you make, every whine and gasp as he works your cunt open diligently. Maybe if you weren’t so distracted you might’ve questioned why he’d need to stretch you out this well. But you’re cumming with a soft keen of his name, shuddering in his arms as he fucks you through it. The sound your pussy makes when Ran finally pulls his fingers free makes you burn with embarrassment but the way he casually stuffs those fingers into his mouth, lids fluttering at your taste. He strips with one hand, dragging his silk shirt off and quickly undoing his belt buckle.

By the time his cock springs free you’ve wiggled your way out of the last piece of clothing and you’re dizzy with anticipation. Your first reaction is apprehension. Ran’s cock is thick and heavy, the weight enough to have it hanging between his thighs. He’s also a little longer than average with a fat mushroomed head. Your second reaction is desperation. Imagining the stretch of your pussy to accommodate his cock has you shuffling to the edge of the counter, eyes wide as you reach for his cock to rest it against your cunt.

“Shit,” Ran hisses when his cock makes contact with the slick lips of your pussy. He’s bucking his hips almost instinctively, one hand pressing his cock in place as he fucks your pussy lips steadily. And the picture Ran Haitani makes drunk on you before he’s even slid his cock inside you is enough to have your eyes watering. He’s beautiful. His hair in disarray, sticking to his forehead and standing askew from your hands, his lips swollen from your kisses, his skin flushed from his cheeks to his chest, and his eyes. Hooded and bright with an emotion you cannot identify.

You’re so distracted by him that you don’t register he’s shifted his cock down to your entrance until the head of his cock squeeze into your hole and you choke on a gasp. Ran kisses you then, a slow, deep affair that wipes your mind of any coherent thought. Your stomach flip flops when he pulls you closer to him, wrapping your legs around his body as he wraps his arms around you. The position is so intimate something pangs inside you. Every lap of Ran’s tongue coincides with an inch he’s fucked into you. You’re shaking when you feel his hips bump into your thighs and he’s still not stopped kissing you.

He fucks you there, in short strokes that rubs the head of his cock into your g spot. Kissing you until you can’t breathe and then barely giving you time to catch your breath as he proceeds to tell you about how good you feel. ‘Never felt a pussy like yours angel’, ‘’m never leaving you alone’, ‘’s my pussy now, the best pussy’, ‘tell me it’s mine, tell me it’s my pussy, please’. They’re a mix between a whine and a growl as he begs and grunts and threatens your life and the life of every other man you’ve fucked. It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever encountered and your body agrees. When your orgasm slams into you you have to drag your lips away from Ran to scream. A garbled mix of his name and thanks, as he fucks you through it, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering as he chases his own high.

You’re both weak in the knees by the time Ran pulls out of you. The silence isn’t awkward as you clean each other up. “So my pussy is your huh?” you say later as you’re waiting in the conference hall for Wakasa and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he answers without missing a beat, expression brightening when he catches your smile. “And I really will kill you if you try anything stupid.”

Your smile falls. “What?”

“A bullet right between your eyes,” he holds up finger guns aiming one between your brows. “Pop. Pop,” he chuckles. “I dare you to act dumb.”

You can only swallow around the mounting arousal in your gut because you think you’ve known him long enough to know when he’s bluffing. And based no the slightly crazed look in his eye as Wakasa enters the room you know this is not one of those times.

#ran haitani x you #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #tr smut #tr x reader #tr x you #tr: beyablade.

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monstersandmaw · 7 months

Text

Male orc (Rhuarc) x female character - Part One (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Thank you to the two people who explicitly expressed interest in this story via my inbox. This one's for you. Here's Rhuarc the single dad orc and his girl, and how they met. I've even got some visuals in this one too!

Content: kidnapping, attempted human sacrifice, violence, some light gore, implied age gap, older male character, single father orc x small human female

Wordcount: 4344

Rhuarc tried not to resent the fact that the Jarl of Markarth’s crusty old steward had looked him up and down as he’d stood in front of the so-called Mournful Throne, and decided that the orc was either entirely expendable or utterly stupid enough to take on an entire Forsworn camp. By himself.

Apparently it was the latter though, because with his two adopted girls waiting for his return in Whiterun, Rhuarc was most certainly not expendable these days. Perhaps twenty years ago, he might have hurled himself at the nearest frothing lunatic disrupting trade routes and abducting travellers off the roads without much care for the damage he took — the fact that he’d lost the sight in his right eye before he’d turned nineteen was testament to that — but these days, his contracts required thought and planning.

Kill the leader of Hag’s End, an old Nordic tomb complex nestled away in the frozen mountains to the northeast of Markarth.

Easy.

By himself.

Less easy.

The place was huge, and crawling with more Forsworn than termites in a mound, and there was every chance he would encounter a hagraven there too. Fuck, he hated those things. Whatever unnatural magic was used to create those half-bird, half-women, he didn’t want any part of it.

His own magic was fairly rudimentary by the standards of the average mage: a few fireballs here, a few healing spells there, and he could make a pretty decent lance out of ice if he had to. After all, orcs were known primarily for how ferociously they could bludgeon something into Oblivion, but magicka did coil its way through some of them too, and his mother had been both an alchemist and a mage.

Now though, as Rhuarc crept up behind the Briarheart warrior who led this bunch of rabid lunatics, and slipped his arm around the man’s throat to hold him still while he ripped the strange replacement heart out of the half-undead creature’s chest, he wondered exactly what kind of magic these people used that let them replace an otherwise healthy man’s beating heart with the poisoned seed of a Briarheart tree. And what special kind of lunacy allowed someone to undergo it willingly. Perhaps it wasn’t willing though? What did he know about these people?

As the orc’s fingers curled around the prickly seed that was about the size of an apple, the magic of it felt at once too cold and too hot; the way white hot metal feels in that moment of pure shock if you touch it by accident before the pain kicks in. He released the disgusting ‘heart’ and it fell with a splatter of gore onto the snowy carpet covering the cosy little platform, from where the man ruled over his clan of Forsworn. Rhuarc would have to find a scrap of cloth to wrap it in so that it didn’t leak everywhere between there and the city of Markarth, but he was looking forward to depositing it directly into the stuffy old steward’s lap as proof of the kill and the contract fulfilled.

The Briarheart warrior went instantly limp in his arms and Rhuarc laid him down silently on the frozen ground, already starting to plan his next move. A shout went up a second later from somewhere to his right — his blind side — and an arrow pinged off the bastion wall beside him. With a curse, he rolled and ducked behind the hide wall of the leader’s large tent, breathing hard. Of course he’d missed one of them, and if she alerted anyone else, or that lurking hagraven, Rhuarc was fucked. He was tired. And cold. His joints weren’t quite what they had once been, and his muscles were seizing with the cold and from crouching in dark doorways and corners on the long and winding way up to reach this part of the secret redoubt.

With a careful peek around the support structure of the leader’s tent, he realised that this new Forsworn hadn’t actually spotted him properly yet, and he hefted the haft of his war axe in his hand. Throwing a weapon away was never a great idea, but he didn’t have a bow on him, and if he called magicka to his hands, a hagraven would certainly sense it. Not a chance he wanted to take, and given that the place was called Hag’s End, he thought it pretty fucking likely that there was one of the bird-legged, psychotic matriarchs of the Forsworn roosting up at the top of the complex on that balcony almost directly above him.

So, he drew back his arm and sent the blade of his war axe whirling away to bite into the breastbone of the Forsworn before she could spot him or cry out again. She fell with the clatter and rattle of bone and fur armour, her silly antlered headdress skittering away behind her, and he was off running immediately to release the weapon from her corpse and seek a new hiding place in case the commotion had drawn others.

As it was, Rhuarc crouched for a long few minutes behind the gruesomely-displayed corpse of an elk that had been partly taxidermied by the cold and stuck on a stake, with his breath billowing all around him, and the stillness of snow in the air. Had he got them all? He was spattered all up one side of his body with blood and even had a red streak in his otherwise white hair that he’d shaved close to his skull above his ears and left long enough to tie back into a ponytail on top. What a mess. Still, it would be worth the groaning bag of coin he was going to get for clearing the whole bloody encampment and making The Reach a little bit safer for travellers.

Just as he’d begun to relax, half thinking of getting the girls each a new dress with his earnings, a scream like nothing he’d ever heard before tore the silence in two and his blood went cold.

It had come from the balcony above him where a spar of stonework jutted out into the winter sky like the bowsprit of a ship, and it hadn’t been the harsh shriek of a hagraven. The scream had come from a woman in blind, abject terror, and the sound of it shocked him back to his feet before he’d even realised it.

Rhuarc thundered up the stone stairs behind him and shouldered open the carved doors of the inner sanctum of the tomb, plunging into the relative darkness without stopping to think.

Not thinking was a sure way to get himself killed, and by some miracle of the fates, he skidded to a halt just in time to avoid a pressure plate in the floor that would no doubt have unleashed some kind of magical or poisoned trap on him. Whoever lived here clearly didn’t let just anyone inside, and blundering around like a panicked mammoth wasn’t going to help anyone.

“Think, you thick-skulled orc,” he growled at himself, chest heaving and heart pounding in his ears like a war-drum. He was only a few heartbeats away from slipping into that infamous, orcish berserker rage, and he never ever wanted to find himself on the far end of a state of mind like that again. Caked in blood and viscera and surrounded by an array of corpses with no memory of how they had been felled… He shuddered and forced himself to steady his breathing before moving on.

What he confronted as he wound his way carefully and methodically through the dark, blood-stained hallways of the upper Nordic tomb proved to be as great a test of his prowess with blade and his magic as any he’d ever faced in his forty-six years.

Savage witches clad in long, magicka-laced, black robes hurled spells and curses at him that he only just dodged or warded in time to sink his axe into their skulls, but what made his skin crawl the most was the hagraven who seemed to be taunting him, letting him get one or two shots in before a swirl of purple and black magic enveloped her and she vanished to somewhere else in the complex.

Was she an illusion? Had he lost his mind or, worse, accidentally imbibed some poison from one of his victims that was making him hallucinate? He’d spotted enough deadly mushrooms growing in the dank corners of the dungeon that the suspicion remained, even as he ploughed on through the coven of crazed witches towards the woman who had let out that heart-rending scream.

Just as he sensed he was gaining the top of the tower, the hagraven disappeared amid a final storm of eerie, flickering magicka, leaving him alone in an echoing chamber at the top of a staircase lined with mortuary shelves.

Over to his left, an arcane enchanting table crackled with residual magicka from a recent use, the blueish runes on its onyx surface glowing in the dim light, and on his right, an ancient monument reared up like a tombstone, carved with a script he couldn’t read. He had no time for any of that, and paused just long enough with his hand on the last door to gather his breath and the last ragged remains of his strength, before shoving all his weight into swinging them open and stepping out onto the snowy balcony beyond.

A blast of freezing air hit him full in the face, but it wasn’t the cold that stole his breath and his senses.

There on a low, wide, stone altar, a Nord woman had been bound hand and foot, stretched out and completely naked, and she was thrashing weakly despite the wounds at her wrists and ankles from the ropes. Tears tracked pale lines through the dirt on her face and her bare chest heaved with broken, choking sobs as she arched her back in futile protest.

Over her prone figure loomed the emaciated figure of a hagraven with a glinting, black dagger raised in her taloned hands.

Rhuarc didn’t think.

He hurled a bolt of ice at the creature, and might have been surprised to find that it had actually struck her right in the stomach if he hadn’t already been concentrating on drawing the ambient moisture into his hand to freeze into another shard of ice as thick as a tree limb. The hagraven let out a shriek that should have made his ears bleed, and hurled a fireball at him for the indignity of him getting a hit in first.

Searing flames exploded all around him and he smelled singeing, though he wasn’t sure if it was his fur armour or his own skin, and he didn’t care. He leapt forwards, diving into a roll in the snow to douse any lingering flames, and as he came up he launched a second spike of ice directly at the hagraven’s weathered, distorted face. Her black, beady eyes narrowed and she bared rotten teeth with a snarl as she clenched her clawed hand and prepared to fling a second fireball at him.

Rhuarc had closed the distance between them in a few powerful strides though, and before she’d finished the spell, he grabbed her by her flimsy arm and felt the snap of it breaking in his grip as he yanked her away from the altar. Before she could even muster a screech, he lopped her head off with his axe. He didn’t stop to watch her abandoned carcass slide over the edge of the parapet, down into the void of snow and cooling corpses below, and turned instead to the woman laid out on the table.

The dagger had fallen from the hagraven’s claws to land beside her right hand and she was reaching frostbitten fingers for it.

“Easy,” Rhuarc said, holstering his messy axe at the loop on his belt and realising he probably looked as frightening as the hagraven had. Six foot six and broad as a barn door at the shoulder, Rhuarc now had blood all up his face from one of the witches, a nasty burn on his shoulder that was only just now making itself known, and a long cut on his abdomen that was oozing blood down his solid paunch. As he’d got older, he’d lost the iron definition he’d had in his youth, but he was probably the strongest now that he’d ever been in his life.

No wonder the woman was staring wild-eyed at him like he was some animal barbarian, but his heart physically hurt in his chest when he saw the welts and bruises standing out starkly on her pale, Nordic complexion. Her long, midnight black hair was loose and lank and greasy, her lip was split and swollen, and there was a vibrant, purple bruise all around her left eye socket. Those dark brown eyes glared up at him with fierce defiance though, and her fingers found the hilt of the knife.

He smiled. “I know I look a sight,” he said in a low, quiet rumble, holding both hands up, bloody palms towards her. “I’m gonna help you though. Let’s get you healed up and out of here. I’m not sure what you can wear though…”

“My… My clothes are in… were in… a chest… in there,” she croaked, twitching her head slightly towards the chamber he’d just left. The swelling in her lip clearly made talking painful, and she sounded like she hadn’t had any water for days. That, or the thick, raw, red line around her throat was responsible, flanked by distinct, finger-sized bruises the colour of a ripe plum. It made his orc blood boil to see marks like that on a person’s body, but he made himself focus on the more immediate task of helping her.

“Alright. I’ll untie you — may I use that dagger?”

She nodded and reluctantly let her fingers go loose again. With the rope lashed so tightly around her wrist, she didn’t have enough purchase to lift her hand free of the hilt, so Rhuarc carefully slid his bloody fingers underneath hers and he eased the blade out.

Concentrating, he sawed steadily through the thick rope, and she hissed as she flexed her fingers when the rope finally sheared and one arm came free. The raw chafing showed him just how hard she’d fought her captors, and he found the warmth of pride glowing in the pit of his stomach for this stranger and her resilience. Methodically, Rhuarc moved his way around the table to free her ankles next before finally cutting the ropes binding her left arm to the cold table, and all the while keeping his eyes off her naked body as best he could.

“We need to get you somewhere sheltered. Can you sit up?”

She tried valiantly when he asked, but her strength failed her in a rush and she slumped back down with a gasp.

Rhuarc dropped the knife to the stone at his feet and stuck his right hand under her head just in time to stop her cracking her skull on the stone platform of the altar, and he cradled her lolling head in the palm of his hand. His already-bruised knuckles clunked against the altar under the full weight of her head as she surrendered at last, spent.

“Easy,” he said. “I’ve got some magic. I’m going to heal you, alright? Keep steady, then we’ll find you some clothes and get you out of here.”

Her dark eyes rolled as the golden light of healing magic washed around her, and she slumped at last into unconsciousness.

Rhuarc picked her up with detached efficiency and carried her out of the biting wind and back into the tower that formed the top part of the tomb’s inner sanctum, marvelling at the Nord’s resilience to the cold. He knew that her people were tougher than most humans in these conditions, but still, with everything she’d been through, she probably should be dead.

Her small body was soft where many Nords were made of hard muscle, and he suspected that she had not been raised to be a fighter. That the Forsworn would snatch her away from whatever battle-free life she’d led before and defile her like this made his blood sing all over again and his hands itched to sink his axe into a nice, crunchy, Forsworn skull. He let the thought go with a growl around his thick tusks and shouldered the doors open.

With her pressed against his bare chest, he felt the tingle of magic in her blood too, and he recalled the way her body had drunk his own restoration magic down like water poured onto dry sand. Perhaps the fact that she was probably a mage had been why the hagraven had been about to sacrifice her in that unholy ritual.

Inside the echoing, stone room with the enchanting table, Rhuarc found the chest she’d mentioned, and he crouched down awkwardly in front of it with her half-draped across his lap, her naked body propped up by his right arm. He really didn’t want to have to use one of the beds in the tower that the witches had clearly slept in, but if the woman needed to rest, then he would stay with her and see that she was safe.

Just as he was fiddling one-handed with the catch of the chest, which luckily wasn’t locked, she drew in a deeper breath and came-to with a mewling sob of discomfort. Her bare legs were touching the floor and the room wasn’t much warmer than the air outside because of a huge hole in the ceiling, but at least they were out of the wind.

“I know,” he said without looking at her. “I’m going to find you something to wear. Just give me a second.”

“Thank you,” she rasped, and the sound became a sob as she squirmed in his arms, trying to curl inwards on herself. Whether that was to cover her naked body better or simply because she was hurting in every way humanly possible, he wasn’t sure. “Thank you. I thought that was it, when… when she… she —”

“Shh,” he said, briefly tightening his hold around her shoulders with a slight curl of his right arm, worried that if she grew too distressed, he might drop her. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

“Thank you,” she said again, and then added with a little sniffle, “My name is Syl, by the way.”

“Rhuarc,” he grunted, finally lifting the lid of the chest. “This your stuff?”

She peered forward and nodded. An undyed linen shirt and brown trousers had been roughly stuffed into the wooden chest, along with a pair of softly-worn, fur-lined boots, a thick, fur-lined jacket, and a small alchemist’s pouch that fitted on a belt around the hips. He had something similar himself for the road, choosing to forgo the usual traveller’s pack with a bedroll and cooking pot. He hunted or foraged for what he needed and cooked it over an open fire and slept under the stars when he absolutely had to, but mostly, he actually planned his journeys to halt at an inn for the night these days, because he was too damned old now to be sleeping out of doors in the grass like a bloody wild boar. He also thought he glimpsed some linen underwear and wrappings in the chest too, but he didn’t let his gaze linger.

“You… need a hand?” he asked quietly, but she shook her head.

“I can just kneel here for a moment. I’ll be alright,” she said in a steady, if rough voice. “Thank you.”

He nodded once. “I’ll be over there,” he said, gesturing vaguely with his thumb over his left shoulder.

He helped her slide off his lap where he’d crouched beside the chest, and steadied her briefly with a hand at the small of her spine to stop her tipping backwards. Her flesh was still cold from lying out there on the table, but she couldn’t have been out there for too long before he’d found her, or she’d have died of exposure. Even a Nord couldn’t survive naked in the snow for very long.

Only then, with his rough palm pressed against the pale softness of her skin, did it strike him that it had actually been a very long time since he’d seen another naked body, and the feel of her skin beneath the calluses of his palm distantly stirred the cold embers of desire in him that had lain dormant and out of mind for longer than he cared to remember. Even for an orc, he wasn’t exactly short of people showing interest, but it just… hadn’t been something he’d wanted. Then of course, he’d found himself the adoptive father of a pair of ten and eleven year old girls, and all thoughts of romance and the so-called ‘Dibellan arts’ had evaporated completely from his life like autumn mist.

With a sigh, he banished the faint and inappropriate sensation and levered himself stiffly to his feet. As he did, he felt the cut in his lower belly pull with a sharp prick of pain and when he looked down at it, he found it already suppurating. His thick, naturally green, orcish skin had turned a nasty, angry red around the slash and something was oozing out of it that wasn’t blood. Poison. Fuck.

Glancing around the room, he wondered if there were any ingredients stashed way that the witches would have used, but he was in the wrong part of their stronghold for that and anyway, who knows what they might have been brewing in there? Thinking about what limited stocks he kept in the emergency pouch on his belt, he drew out two carefully-sealed glass bottles and tipped their contents into the cupped palm of his left hand. It was hardly ideal, but it would do for now, and he smeared it onto the open wound.

The flash of pain made him grunt, but with a soft fizzing, the powders got to work and nullified the festering poison before it could spread.

“Rhuarc?”

When he turned around at the sound of her voice, he found Syl looking at him from where she was still kneeling in front of the wooden chest.

“Are you alright?” she asked with a frown.

Her alto was still hoarse and rasping, and he wondered if she was still in pain. “I’m fine. Are you? Did I heal you enough?”

At his question, she smiled, and something in his chest slipped sideways when he saw it.

How could a woman who’d just been through the torment she had experienced still find the grace to smile like that? And at an orc of all creatures.

“Yes,” she said, and, now that she was dressed, she stood slowly; cautiously.

She wasn’t very tall for a human, perhaps five foot five at most, and her body seemed somehow even smaller in her loose-fitting, practical clothes. He could clearly see the swell of her hips though, and the definite curve of her breasts, and her dark eyes looked very large as she regarded him. In an attempt to tidy herself up, she had tied her lank, black hair back off her face in a low ponytail, but she still looked like she’d taken one hell of a battering, despite the healing magic.

And yet, there she was on her own two feet, and her resilience was suddenly as devastatingly attractive to him as were her natural good looks. Rhuarc swallowed thickly, utterly floored by what he was feeling for the first time in decades.

“You’re hurt,” she said, eyeing the wound in his stomach.

He felt her open herself up to start channelling magicka, and his own mismatching eyes went wide. “No, don’t!” he gasped, taking an involuntary step towards her and holding out both hands in a kind of warding gesture. “Please, you need to conserve your energy. I’ll heal myself in a moment. I was just waiting for the poison to work its way out first.” No point sealing up the cut with all the vileness still inside, after all.

Syl walked slowly towards him, moving like a black cat along a wall, with her gaze focused on his bare paunch.

Rhuarc’s breath caught and he froze. He couldn’t have moved so much as a muscle then, even if an army of hagravens had descended on him.

When Syl came to a halt in front of him, she brought her fingertips up to touch the fevered flesh around the wound. Very carefully, she let a tiny thread of golden magic seep into him, and he honestly did not mean to let out the noise that left his lips. He hadn’t even known he was still capable of making a sound like that.

Pleasure curled deep and visceral in his gut, both from the whisper-light contact of her fingertips against the trail of hair on his stomach, and from the way her magic coiled and twisted inside him, stitching him up from the inside out and cleansing the last of the poison’s putrefaction in the same deft stroke. She wasn’t just some hedge witch with a little magic: Syl had to be a master of the school of restoration with a healing that skilled.

“There,” she breathed. “Just looks a bit of a mess now,” she added, eyeing the blood that still covered him in a series of spatters and smears.

He couldn’t catch his breath for a moment, but he cleared his throat and stepped back. “Not much different from usual then,” he said a beat too late and painfully aware that his gruff bass sounded far more winded than when he had fought his way through the entire complex to reach her. “Thank you.”

With a long inhale, she let her hand fall back against her side and turned her big, dark eyes up to regard him. “So… what happens now?”

I hope you enjoyed this one? I'm fairly certain most people aren't going to read down to this point, so if you did, please consider reblogging it to help it find more of an audience, and give Rhuarc and Syl some love?

And if you want to learn more about how they fall in love on their journey away from Hag's End, be sure to leave me an ask or a comment! Otherwise I'll assume there's no interest and won't keep sharing it. :)

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#rhuarc the orc #orc #orc x human #male orc x female human #single dad orc #fantasy orc #exophilia #orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster dad

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werewolfetone · 5 months

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1790s Ireland tumblr simulator

😐 william-dickham Follow

Omg has anyone else noticed the sexual tension between Caleb and Falkland in this chapter of Caleb Williams Daily. Falkleb REAL

( 12 notes )

🗞️ henryjoyjuniorofficial ✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅ Follow

Anyway I can't believe I have to tell yous this again but if you support the n/orthern s/tar or any of its contributors you're literally advocating for the mass murder of women and children just like we've been seeing happening in france and I don't fucking want anything to do with you. They've said repeatedly and explicitly that they actually want to chop off the heads of every single person in this country and it's disgusting that they're still being platformed. Proof under the cut

🤺 jonathanswiftscock Follow

Those are out of context discord screenshots of someone calling william pitt a cunt. are u actually basing this on anything or

🗞️ henryjoyjuniorofficial ✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅ Follow

Blocked ❤️

#we don't tolerate northern star apologism on this blog

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🌳 gowhiteboygo Follow

Like to kill edmund burke instantly reblog to kill edmund burke instantly

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Community label: mature

📰 northernstarofficial Follow

Feel like pure shit just want her back

📰 northernstarofficial Follow

Hey @ staff what the fuck is this

#another example of anti-dissenter discrimination I hate this fucking website

( 17,890 notes )

🔫 memberforcharlemont Follow

The inherent eroticism of duelling with your enemy

🔫 memberforcharlemont Follow

It's about the refusal to try to kill them outright it's about the tension of being so close to them when you pull the trigger it's about putting your life in their hands even though you hate them and are trying to kill them by allowing them a bullet as well. do you understand

( 45,900 notes )

🗣️ Anonymous asked: lower your rents or be visited by na Buachaillí Bána cunt

🏘️ local-landlord answered:

Lol. Anon hate used to be believable

🏘️ local-landlord Follow

Does anyone else smell burning

( 1,761 notes )

🖐️ steelboy1769 Follow

He is like a babygirl to me

#I want to eat him alive

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😎 incognitopolls Follow

😐 william-dickham Follow

( 2,700 notes )

📖 friendofmrpitt Follow

Reminder that if you support j/a/c/o/b/i/n/i/s/m every single shakespeare character fucking hates you

( 4,977 notes )

🤺 jonathanswiftscock Follow

She richard on my brinsley till I sheridan

🤺 jonathanswiftscock Follow

Easy website

( 20,234 notes )

🏰 lordlondonderry ✅✅✅✅✅✅✅✅ Follow

Hey guys

😐 william-dickham Follow

🖐️ steelboy1769 Follow

🤺 jonathanswiftscock Follow

🐺 mrhutton Follow

🌳 gowhiteboygo Follow

🪓 catholic-committee-polycule Follow

🔫 memberforcharlemont Follow

📰 northernstarofficial Follow

#this doesn't deserve an irish history tag #jory.txt

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pretty-purple-pages · 1 month

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𝓬𝓸𝔀𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓮

synopsis: libby gets hate on insta posts and who is nash not to defend his beloved soon-to-be-wife?

pairing: libby x nash (the inheritance games)

content: fluff fluff fluff, hate comments, nash and libby being the perfect couple, mentions of their wedding

word count: 500

liked by cowboylikeme, hawthorne_heiress and 10,000 others

goth_cupcakes baking for my fiancé! <3

tagged: cowboylikeme

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user1 girl i beg you for the recipe 🙏🙏 ↳goth_cupcakes its here [link] ↳user1 you are a goddess thank you ↳user2 she's acc so sweet (like her cookies) liked by goth_cupcakes

cowboylikeme can't wait to marry you ↳goth_cupcakes exactly like its such a LONG time, i want to marry you NOW >:( ↳cowboylikeme patience love ↳user5 i DID NOT need to be reminded of my singleness on a sunday morning >:( ↳scones_ontop frfr ↳motherfaxingmax HEY YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND

hawthorne_heiress gimme some later ↳cowboylikeme hawthornes don't share cookies ↳daredevil he never said smth like this SHARE THE DAMN COOKIES

Grayson_Hawthorne The cupcakes look nice. ↳goth_cupcakes thank you gray but please for the love of god and your work, drop the capitals and punctuation ↳Grayson_Hawthorne No.

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liked by goth_cupcakes, alisa_ortega and 20,000 others

cowboylikeme give me my hat back

tagged: goth_cupcakes

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goth_cupcakes nope ↳cowboylikeme please? ↳goth_cupcakes you can do better ↳cowboylikeme my gorgeous goddess girlfriend, soon to be wife, the love and light of my life, i, on my knees beg you to return my hat ↳goth_cupcakes fine 🙄 take the damn hat back ↳hawthorne_heiress everyone, she's sobbing cuz of the 'wife' ↳goth_cupcakes IM NOT ↳user7 i love my parents

user5 the way she keeps him on his knees 🛐 liked by cowboylikeme ↳hawthorne_heiress my sister's so girlboss ↳motherfaxingmax i need lessons cuz my "boyfriend" FORGOT that he had a girlfriend 🙄 ↳scones_ontop I SAID IM SORRY

user6 does no one realise that she's manipulating everyone by being OVERLY sweet SHE IS A LIAR ↳cowboylikeme with all due respect, which is none, fuck off. ↳user2 no one needs your toxicity here ↳hawthorne_heiress bitch you're trying to gaslight people into thinking my sister is manipulative, you're the liar here

user12 user6 OMG I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW THIS ↳user18 EXACTLY LIKE SHE'S DISGUSTING ↳Grayson_Hawthorne I have the names and social security numbers.

this user has limited comments on this post

liked by hawthorne_heiress, goth_cupcakes and 30,000 others

cowboylikeme i'd happily get manipulated by this gorgeous liar

tagged: goth_cupcakes

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goth_cupcakes 🥹🥹 i love you so so so so much ↳cowboylikeme i love you more darling

user7 if my bf ain't like this im dumping his ass ↳user5 hawthornes raised our standards too high then left us with too high standards and no bitches

user3 user6's been real quiet since this dropped ↳user1 i acc feel second-hand embarrassment for them ↳user2 and user12 and user18 too ↳user4 i heard they went into hiding

user11 i want a nash on the go, please and thank you

hawthorne_heiress you have my full approval to marry my sister liked by cowboylikeme

daredevil wedding when? ↳scones_ontop fr like get married already idiots 🙄 /aff ↳Grayson_Hawthorne The wedding transactions have been made.

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a/n: i'm sorry this so short, its my first smau ever so lmk if you like it

#mini writes—◈#the inheritance games #libby grambs #nash hawthorne #the grandest game #writerblr #smau #social media au #libby x nash #orginal story #writers on tumblr

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sugawarassoulmate · 1 year

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okok im back with incel!kenma

whats even worse is if you really can’t tell if you’re a guy or a girl, the type of person that gives gender envy. if you have longer hair he just assumes your like him and can’t be bothered to cut it.

OKAY THIS THOUGHT JUST HIT ME MID TYPING! YOU’RE THE BITCH NERD!/LOSER!KURO CANT STOP TALKING ABOUT. THERES TWO MAYBE THREE WAYS HE CAN FIND OUT ITS YOU.

also ik this isn’t one of your hcs for kuro but nerd/loser!kuro x mean!goth!gf but maybe you’re not mean to him but everyone else, people even look at him the wrong way and you have them absolutely terrified. and during your face chats with him you never have your makeup or you daily clothes on. normally just bare faced and in something of kuros. surpising how he didn’t pick up kuros old nekoma jersey

number one: maybe kuro posts a picture of you on his story possibly at your pc playing with incel!kenma. or it could be one of the spicy mirror pictures you made him post because why the hell is the dumb bitch from class feeling up on your man for. maybe you even rant to kenma about this dumb bitch who can’t keep her hands to herself, and why the fuck is she touching a taken man. (okay i think incel!kenma is misogynistic but not homophobic because why the fuck would anyone want to deal with some needy whore constantly.) but that rant solidifies the thought that you are infact a guy maybe not one who hates women on the same level as he does but a man nonetheless. but once kuro posted that picture he figured it out and was disgusted.

number 2: kuro is at your house studying, so to keep your boredom at bay you hop online with kenma, it’s about two hours in when he hears a knock shuffling in the back ground followed by the sound of someone falling onto your bed when he asked about it your response is casual “oh its just my boyfriend.” and he doesn’t pick at it anymore. but then the mic catches a familiar voice in the background. “pretty girl when are you gonna be done, i want to take a nap with you” you give a hum in response to his question. “alright bro gotta leave after this round, so we have to win don’t wanna lose the last match of the day.” obviously you land up losing because kenma can’t get his pretty little head around the fact that he couldn’t tell you were some fucking bitch, you never told him either so that makes you a fucking liar (even tho he didn’t ask). when the game disconnects he’s seething.

number three: this is the worst option really kuro begs him to come hang out with him at his girlfriend, he swears up and down that she’s not the type of woman he’d hate. promises that they have a lot of the same interests. maybe he sends a picture of you cosplaying as one of his favorite characters but that just lowers his opinion, in the photo he can’t even tell its you though. so he’s even more confused when he meets you guys at the arcade. he cautiously calls you by your in game name and you respond with a smile and respond with your irl name. he’s genuinely not sure how to react. not just bc you’re the person he’s been gaming with for almost a year, but with your thick ass platforms you’re just as talk as kuro if not taller. you literally look down at him, can he even talk shit about a bitch like you with out getting his as beat.

anyway this drug out for way longer than intended. but yeah incel!kenma making assumptions and being totally wrong. how funny would it be if he had a crush on kuros gf

bestie.....my beloved......all of the options just sound so amazing to me omg *kisses u*

the absolute torture incel!kenma has to go through upon finding out that 1) his favorite gaming buddy is a disgusting female, 2) she's dating his best friend and somehow he never knew, and 3) she's so fucking hot that kenma can't stop picturing her face every time he rubs one out.

and you just won't let him live you're so fucking mean to him that kenma can't even get a word in when you're roasting him. the only thing that reels you in is kuroo's soft, pleading voice asking you to be nice.

kenma's embarrassed that his friend has become such a simp but fuck if he didn't wish he was on the receiving end of your sweet words.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kozume kenma x reader #🥀#🥀kenma #incel!kenma

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greyyson-but-no · 2 months

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as someone on the aspec i know what it's like to be forced to come out and it fucking sucks. I can't even imagine how fed up with everything cellbit is, especially after seven years of this shit. its a horrible situation to be in and he doesn't deserve it. please, if you are still siding with his ex-girlfriend get away from my blog and if you want to read the full document cellbit has released about this I'll reblog this post with the link. it explains everything in detail and there are some very very sensitive topics spoken about in it so be wary about that, but it clears his name and that's what is important.

if anybody uses this situation to further be aphobic towards him or anybody you can happily go fuck yourselves. you are pieces of shit for that. and if anybody uses this situation to be xenophobic towards the brazillians and their community, simply fuck off. you don't deserve to have a voice about this situation.

I really hope this doesn't effect cellbits platform (obviously anymore than it already has) and I hope he can take time to recover from this all. its a disgusting thing to have happened but it has, and now we can only work on making him feel appreciated and taking down everyone that has been xenophobic and aphobic as a result of this situation.

#cellbit #cellbit situation #tw aphobia #tw xenophobia

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rizsu · 9 months

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cashier's revenge gojo satoru.

sum. annoying ex!gojo gets his lick back. not beta read !

satoru's existence itself is a warning. is it a harzardous warning? not quite, but it's also not a good one. at this very moment, at this very precised second, gojo satoru is contemplating the consequences of clocking out of work before his shift is up. in his eyes, if it's executed properly, it can work. the only downside would be the possibility of getting fired.

he cannot afford such a tragedy. being a man in today's day and age comes at an expensive cost. one day satoru promises to find AND deliver punishment to whoever created the "men are the breadwinners." motion. he suffers from society's insane capitalism and boy might he just dive into hell. head first, even. perhaps even toes first, if he's feeling special.

satoru's current employment stems from two reasons. not one, not three, but two:

1. his urge to prove that he can be better off without you.

2. getō suguru, someone's that's just as bad as he is, told him he had the chance to do the funniest thing ever.

now, don't mistake him! gojo satoru is not easily influenced ( he is. ) he knows right from wrong ( sometimes. )

prior to him signing up as a cashier, your break-up was mutual. he agreed to let you go and you agreed that you weren't committed to being in a full relationship yet. on his vision, he hated that he had to let you go; his attachment grew and he couldn't go two days without bothering you.

it would've disgusted satoru if he made you stay with him but god he wished you would've done so.

bored and bothered, satoru fiddles with his fingers, unable to find entertainment elsewhere due to his phone's low battery warning.

"if no one enters in the next five minutes maybe i can — fuck," feeling his right eye twitch, satoru exhales a deep sigh. not only did someone enter but that unlucky customer happened to be you, y/n l/n.

his eyes following your body, praying that you magically decided to no longer buy anything. unfortunately for him, he cannot get everything he wants in life. watching you make your way to his position, he chants a line of curses before going into automatic-customer-service mode.

"hi," satoru begins, forcing his sunshine-like smile, "what would you have today? any menu specials?"

"hello! i'd like to have a — oh my god it's you.." stopping mid-sentence, you clutch the strap of your handbag. the odds weren't one hundred but they definitely weren't zero.

'am i a curse or what?' gojo thinks. your expressions most certainly didn't bypass his radar. setting his offense aside, he continues, "i'm sorry, we don't have an "oh my god it's you" on the menu!"

"sorry, i'll have the daily special," counting the money needed, you wait for him to finish his cashier duties.

"that'll be ten dollars and ninety-nine cents," satoru says, raising his hand to collect the money. for some rather peculiar reason, it seems as though a twenty dollar bill is stuck on its owner's hand.

"miss, please let go of the bill."

"whatever do you mean?"

scoffing, satoru yanks the bill out of your hand. he watches as you twist your face into disgust and shake your hand off. he's sorry, really, but he has to put himself first at times.

—

although satoru was set on escaping early, he now has a reason to stay longer. going out of his way to deliver your meal, satoru sits in front of you. he has the plot and the platform.

"here's your meal, bill, and change," sliding everything to you, he sits with folded arms. this position means business. formal business.

"thank you — but what are you doing there?" you question him, squinting your eyes at his choice of movement.

"don't question me. how have you been though?"

pulling out your fries, you tilt them to his direction, offering them to him. "i've been wonderful, you?"

"my life has been fine. i've recovered ever since you broke up with me," taking a single fry, he shakes his head as he munches.

"that's crazy but why're you even here?" you couldn't contain your curiosity.

"ever since you broke my heart, i needed to get my life back." gojo takes two fries this time, munching them in sadness.

"ah, i see." you reply.

"it's amazing that you can see ever since you broke up with—"

"do NOT finish that sentence." glaring at satoru, you shut down his pity party. whatever he has going on needs to stop.

"you stop me from doing stuff the same way you stopped my heart ever since you —" satoru tries to finish but was met with a burger being shoved in his mouth.

smiling to himself, he compliments himself as he managed to annoy you. satoru can only thank the gods that you don't despise him. even if you do then that's a problem for someone else.

on your side, you're regretting handing over your burger to him. you were sure that breaking up with him will cause a broken heart but it seems like someone's doing fine. taking a sip from your drink, you look at satoru who's happily eating your food. 'he looks cute' you think.

"satoru," you speak up, redirecting his attention from the burger and onto you.

"hm?" he hums, wiping away the sauces on his face.

inhaling a deep breath, you mentally prepare before asking him, "wanna come over tonight?"

satoru's mouth shaped like an 'O', he thinks for a while before agreeing, "i'd love to — especially after you broke up with me."

"i swear i will kill you, satoru."

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff

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forestshadow-wolf · 10 months

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GhostSoap famous gambler husbands AU

Ghost who will clear an entire casino once, usually over the course of 3-4 days or up to a week, before leaving and never returning. Never goes to the same house twice. All house masters know of him. Well practically everyone knows of him, he's a legend at the top of the ranks, and if you meet him you only meet him once. And oddly enough he never seems to be far behind nation famous gambler Soap...

Soap who will clean out table after table of a few houses for weeks before he moves on. He rotates houses every few weeks, house masters know him well, he draws in many challengers, business booms for house masters. So he ends up winning just as much as he brings in (he has a public schedule on his socials (to the public Ghost is saop's bodyguard; dresses drastically different and with a different mask when gambling, as opposed to when he's with soap))

The Ghost is just as elusive as his name suggests. He has no socials, speaks to almost nobody except head of table and house master(s), and those he does speak to gets no more that a few words of unimportant forgettable information. While it's said that The Ghost never returns its a lie, he just doesn't return until after soap has started a new cycle of visits for the season. And he never makes himself known, caught only by wispers in the crowd until it reaches the house master.

Soap on the other hand has just about every social media platform you could think of (the big ones anyway) twitter, instagram, tumblr, reddit, ect. (No facebook but there is a page dedicated to him) He's active too. Keeps his location updated to that week's casino(s). Pictures of what he did that weekend, his current hyper fixation, what show or movie he's currently obsessed with. He shares gambling tips for people just starting, but nothing to give away his secrets. The public knows that he has a husband (it's kinda hard to miss the flashy gold ring when he tries to get it in every photo of him) but don't know who it is. They do know that he has a heart of gold and enthusiastically protects his wishes to remain anonymous. Sometimes even going as far as attacking newer fans who try to reveal that information, Soap has had to remind people to be nice to eachother.

It's honestly a scam, they laugh about it at night while in bed sometimes. They think it's a miracle that nobody's caught on yet, or if they have that they haven't leaked it.

Despite having so many riches they live a modest life. Sure it's more than most, a house, food, money to have a much fun as they could possibly want, and a sizable savings. But they do donate a good portion of their winnings, try to help people in need, don't spend on overly frivolous things (excluding their gambling attire because appearances matter in that kind of setting)

John and Simon Riley-Mactavish work in a small, locally known bar, The 1-4-1, co-owned by John Price and his adopted son Kyle Garrick, sat in the middle block of a chain of casinos. It's frequented by solem casino go-ers after a long night of misfortunes or celebrating parties of extreme luck.

Simon Riley-Mactavish works as The 1-4-1's seasoned bartender making drinks, taking orders, charming the excitable patrons eager enough to miss or ignore the silver band that sits politely on his finger. When he sees someone getting harrassed he's quick to ask on a napkin if they'd like an angel shot (with lemon for take them to the back, lime if they need an escort to their car/uber, or straight if it's an emergency and needs immediate intervention). He's also a petty bitch so if it's not an emergency he'll order the harasser the most disgusting drink he can make, on the house.

John Riley-Mactavish is security of The 1-4-1, it's honest work. He's great at de-escalating situations, corrallin the too roudy. He's who is called when an angel shot is ordered. Luckily it's not too often. Usually is using his charm to finesse and guide the too handsy and drunk out of the bar and on their way home. All that being said... he has no tolerance for disrespect and hate, and it's a damned good thing price doesn't mind a little chaos or he'd have been kicked out already. He's got a watchful eye, intentional misuse of pronouns in a malicious way, racist, misogynistic, or homophobic comments is an immediate out. And he's none too gentle when he does it. Aside from the not infrequent need to remove someone he does enjoy his job, most people are respectful, he finds good conversations, gets to hand out at the bar with Simon. Price lets his go where he wants as long as he does his job well, and he does.

#el rambles #gambling AU #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost

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uvpartybomb · 2 months

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Figured we'd make a stance on this now that things have come out.

We had already distanced ourselves from making tmc content for a couple months now but this has hammered in us not touching or further pursuing creating TMC content as of today.

Its unfortunate our AUs will be left abandoned because of this but we'll keep whats current up alone as a) this art blog does act as a portfolio for our art and b) its already been up for a time and the AUs are still their own thing even if they have been or are attached to TMC.

Furthermore, FUCK ALEX. Fuck what he did to StirringJuice and everyone else who were harmed because of his selfish and horrible actions.

What he did was disgusting and that man doesn't deserve his platform. May he rot for what he did to so many people that even included his fucking fans as well!

#Alex Kister mention #Maybe we'll recreate a bunch of the characters we put our own spin on into ocs #Our Cesar was already far from his canon self #I mean we never saw the real Cesar so you know #Vilbur Soot - 💥#Everyone in front is so disappointed #Fuck Alex

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mattsobvimyfav · 9 days

Text

For Sport (Matthew Sturniolo & Chris Sturniolo) PT 16

A.n—Hey, y'all, this is gonna be a very, very slow burn. I already have some chapters written, so I will probably fire them quickly. It will be toxic, with angst, smut, and everything you can possibly think of. It happens.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

y/n’s POV

The week went by fast, I had training everyday and school. I basically had not seen the boys besides school. It's finally Friday and I'm getting out of training for the week, my competition is tomorrow at five like a hour away and I cannot wait. For tonight though, me and the boys are going to a party and I could not be more excited to let off some steam with my favorite people.

I pulled into my driveway just in my leotard rushing to get into my house to get ready, “Y/N!” Matt yells from the kitchen. “Yes Matthew” I say walking into the kitchen seeing them spread out around the kitchen with my dad, Chris jumped up running over to my basically picking me up off the ground spinning me in a hug “Oh how I have missed you” I giggled till he finally put me down “Love you ladies, I'm going to get ready” I ran up my stairs grabbing the outfit I had already laid out the night before, I put on my blue flared jeans and a light pink cropped top, I let my hair just stay in the loose curls I had done in the morning. I ran downstairs slipping on my white platform converse before walking into the kitchen again. “Okay, I need to eat something or else Ill be to fucked up” I said as my dad started laughing at me “I love how you think honey” My dad moved showing me a box of my comfort food, Pepperoni and Mushroom pizza. “I LOVE YOU” I said walking over and picking up a piece, you would never think an old run down little pizza spot could make the most delicious food ever. “You guys are gross for that” Nick said, making a disgusted face at the mushrooms “Oh its sooo good I swear” I said basically in heaven from the greasy mushrooms I was picking off the pizza. “Just hurry up and eat your disgusting food, the party started twenty minute ago” Chris said standing up to go get his shoes on, I had a long practice today because its the last day before the competition.

“I call shotgun” I said pulling Chris’ arm as he sat in the front seat “Chris get out, she called it fair and square” Matt said turning the keys to the van “You guys are honestly so annoying” Chris huffed standing up and getting in the backseat, I jumped in turning around flashing Chris a smile as he rolled his eyes. I plugged my phone into the aux and turning on DnF by P. Reign, it's basically my pre-party anthem. I sang the whole thing looking at Matt when the chorus, the words being “We should just get drunk and fuck” I giggled when the song ended and Matt was practically glaring at me knowing her couldn't do anything with his brothers right behind us. The next song to come on was IV. Sweatpants by childish Gambino, I had practically forgotten how good my pre-game playlist was.

We finally made it to the party and it was a huge mansion in the middle of nowhere, Parties like this made me a little nervous. When it was someone I didn't know personally and it was a friend of a friends, Yes I would know everyone there but not personally knowing the person who owned the house stressed me out never knowing who they really were. Dramatic I know. Matt had his hand on the small of my back as we walked in “Y/N!” Olivia yelled running up to me, seeing her immediately calmed my nerves “Lets go take shots” she said grabbing my hand dragging me away from the boys “Perfect” I yelled following behind her.

4,7,10 Shots in, who actually knows. All I do know is Im sitting in a circle with a bunch of people playing spin the bottle and it was some blonde bimbo’s turn, She has been trying to flirt with Matt all night long. She quickly pinned the bottle and it landed on Matt. Of fucking Course. I felt my face get hot extremely fast and all I could feel was anger and she crawled towards us on her ugly knees. She kissed him and he kissed her back which made me even madder. “My. Turn.” I said grabbing the bottle as the girl sat back down. I span it not even looking at Matt. With my luck it landed on some cute guy I had seen around school but didn't know. I did the same dumb crawl she did and kissed the guy for probably only thirty seconds before Matt grabbed me by the belt loop sitting me down next to him “My turn” Matt said spinning the bottle. This carried on for another twenty minutes and both me and Matts annoyance grew for each other as we kissed other people.

After probably another five shots, I was tapped out laying down on the couch “Cmon, pickle. You have your competition tomorrow” Chris said picking me up bridal style “No Chris please” I slurred ready to pass out in his arms “You’ll thank me tomorrow.” As soon as he sat me down in the car I laid my head on nicks lap and it was like all the lights in the world went out and I was sleeping in an instant.

I wake up the next morning, thanking god I had no hangover for todays comp. “DAD WE HAVE TO LEAVE IN A HOUR” I yell out my door as I quickly turning around to my run into my shower. The boys already down the stairs as I could hear their voices with my fathers. I quickly wash my hair and body, shaving over to make sure I am perfectly smooth. I get out of the shower drying my body and throwing on my robe, I sit down at my vanity and begin drying my hair to I can do the hairstyle me and Rich had decided on. I did two French braids while my hair was parted down the middle and tying the braids into a perfectly tight bun. I put a glitter mist over my hair wants to have it gleam a little bit while I was on the ice, I decided on a gray winged eyeliner to match my outfit for todays comp, I finished off my make up look with some lip gloss and checked the time, I had fifteen minutes to get into that car. I slipped into my leotard which was beautiful, a gray skirted bottom, it had a v shape between my boobs covered by sheer fabric and rhinestones skittered across it. I slipped on a zip up and ran down the stairs with my bag in hand “Okay let's go!” I yell, everyone else got up behind following out to my dads truck. I got in the front and turned to face the boys “Sorry ladies but I will be listening to music this entire time” I turned around putting on my beats and starting my music before closing my eyes, Its how I prepare. Completely drowning myself in music and ignoring everything in the world.

“Y/N LETS GO” Rich said grabbing my arm as soon as I entered the building “They bumped you up, we are next” I slipped off my sweatshirt and quickly placed on my skates as we stood outside the entrance of the rink, “You got this!” Rich kissed my forehead before my name was announced.

I enter the ice with gentle elegance. I begin with slow, graceful movements, tracing intricate patterns on the ice. As the music crescendos, I transition into a series of spins, my movements fluid and precise. I execute a combination of camel spins and sit spins. With the music picking up pace, I launch into a series of jumps, showcasing my athleticism and artistry. Finally execute a flawless double toe loop followed by a soaring triple salchow. As the music takes on a playful tone, I transition into intricate footwork sequences, weaving effortlessly across the ice with intricate step sequences and twizzles. My movements are light and nimble. As the music softens, I slow my movements, gliding gracefully across the ice in a final series of spirals and arabesques. With a flourish, I come to a gentle stop at the center of the ice, their arms outstretched in a triumphant pose.

The stadium started clapping and I smiled as I skated off the ice, “Beautiful. It was perfect!” Rich wrapped his arms around me as I continued smiling at the fact I could pull it off so well after a night of drinking and being pushed up with no time to stretch. “I have to go find my dad and the triplets! I'll see you for voting!” I hugged rich back before slipping off my skates and placing my Tasman's back on. I was nervous for the boys reaction, the only other person who had ever seen my skate that mattered was Haylee. I decided I would just wait and not over think what they would think.

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#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you

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