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uplatterme · 1 year

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playing dangerous.

—this has been rotting in my google docs for a while but i finally finished it, thank god. i also got too into this omg, very self indulgent.

—sub!bottom!heizou/dom!top!reader, amab!reader (no gendered terms or pronouns) | yandere!reader/obsessive!reader, handcuffs on reader, blowjob (chara!receiving), dumbification, degradation, breeding, overstimulation, belly bulge

The incidents happened a month ago. A rise of crimes within Inazuma right after the Vision Hunt Decree was deemed no more. Of course, it would make sense for there to be riots as lots of lives were lost and ruined. And while that should be the most logical answer, the Detective certainly doesn’t think the same way…

There was something strange about these cases, something that he just can’t put his finger on.

His wall is plastered with different clues and yet none of them seemed to connect, except for the fact that they were always done on a Sunday.

That would usually be his day off but because of these incidents, he has been staying far longer in his office than he should be. All he does is pace around his room, annoyed that this was happening.

The incidents were too far from each other. Arson, Robbery, Trespassing, Blackmailing…

He reads the letter again from the latest case. It is nothing to note off, just a few words of threat.

Perhaps he should get the handwriting examined, see if it matches with anyone. Unfortunately, that would take too long. Who knows what would have happened by then?

He drops the letter, ready to move on to another piece of evidence when he feels something strange.

Heizou stares at his fingers. “Wax?”

A part of the letter is covered in waxy material. He smells to check, to see if it is wax.

The letter surprisingly smells of cherry.

“What?”

Why would a letter threatening someone that they’ll kill them if they say anything smells of cherry?

He eyes it in confusion.

The detective leaves his room, wanting a second opinion from someone. Someone who can answer this for him, preferably.

He grabs the first person he sees, urging them to come with him. They immediately follow, already used to the detective’s usual quirkiness. He’s the one who earns the station their meal tickets, so they don’t really find themselves complaining.

They are in awe at the state of his room. “Detective? Is something wrong?”

He holds the letter up. “Can you smell this?”

The worker stares at it before hesitantly taking the object. “It’s sweet.”

Heizou hums.

“Right. Do you have any idea what that may be? It seems to be a wax of some sort, from a candle maybe?” He deduces.

“Pardon me, sir. But I don’t think it’s from a candle.”

“Oh, is that so?” He lets them continue.

They nod. “It’s uh, an ointment. A new one. I think this brand is really popular.”

An ointment? Does that mean that the perpetrator got injured from one of their crimes?

“What’s the ointment for?”

“It’s a…beautification product. The ointment prevents dry lips, keeps them plump.”

“Huh.” Heizou says, stunned.

He did not expect that at all.

“Is that all detective? Shall I go now?”

“Yes, you may leave.”

That…just brings more questions unanswered. Was this whole thing planned? Did they plan for him to notice this clue or was this just an accident? If it wasn’t, then why? What’s the purpose of the letter being tainted with the ointment?

This was turning out more annoying than it should be.

Another Sunday, another crime.

Heizou hasn’t left his office despite it being his day off, knowing that he’ll be called once again if something happens.

He sits with his feet both up on the table, waiting.

Once the door slides open, he immediately stands up, wondering what he’ll face today. Will it be a repeat of the previous crimes? New ones? Or perhaps, they’d finally gone out of their way to take someone else’s life.

“Detective. Is something wrong?”

“No? I’m quite fine.” Heizou responds, confused by the accusation.

“You were smiling, so…”

The detective bites his cheek. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, and yet…

It’s been a while since he’s been faced with such a challenge. He can’t wait to unravel this piece by piece.

“Poison? That’s a new one.” Heizou checks the scene, seeing the mess that unfolded. There was dried blood on the floor, something that the victim coughed up.

Close.

They were just tipping over the line of possibly killing someone. If help wasn’t called, he probably would have died. It’s lucky that the victim is only suffering from a bruised throat.

He’d want to ask them questions but since that victim is in a comatose, he can’t exactly do that.

“Where’s that person who called for help?” Heizou asks.

He’s brought to the residence next door. He reads the name outside and finds that he has never once crossed that name in his investigations. That kind of thing is rare. Almost everyone has some kind of dirt relating to them. So it’s either that this person is as innocent as they come, or…

Once he knocks on the door, the person on the other side is quick to respond.

“Yes?” You answer.

“I’m here to ask a few questions? You are aware of what happened, yes? Since you’re the one who called for us here.” Heizou states.

He waits for an answer from you, only to receive none.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Is there a need for this? I assure you I haven’t done anything.” You say.

“Just making sure, we all do this with the people involved in these incidents.” He explains.

“If that’s the case…you may take your time.” You tell him, smiling at the detective and letting him inside your residence.

Heizou searches your place and he finds…nothing. Everything is clean. Not a trace of anything suspicious.

What’s strange instead, is your behavior.

He notices how you watch every single move he makes, eyeing him up and down. Perhaps you were merely curious. Otherwise, he isn’t sure why you’d do such a thing.

“I’m not your suspect, am I?” You ask.

Truthfully, you were far from it. You saved the victim’s life unintentionally.

“What is it that you work again?” Heizou knows but he asks anyway, seeing if you’ll slip up.

“I’m a writer. I write mostly romance novels, I assume you aren’t familiar with my name? After all, I’m sure the great Shikanoin Heizou has experience with romance in real life that he doesn’t need to turn to fiction, no?” He irks his tongue, knowing that you were only complimenting him. However, that with the way you look at him seductively suggests another thing.

That you were flirting.

He takes the bait and bites back, smiling as he replies. “I haven’t heard. Would you mind giving an example of the things you write?”

You chuckle softly. “A sample, you say? Oh, you know. Just your usual flirtatious lines.”

“Like what?”

“I’m afraid they’re a bit too…provocative. I shouldn’t say such things when you’re working.” You admit, though he’s sure you’re only saying that to be polite.

“I can take it.” Heizou says.

“Can you, pretty boy? Are you sure I’m not too much to handle? Ah, why don’t you use those tight handcuffs of yours? I might be unable to keep my hands off you if you keep talking like that.”

The detective stills. He stares deep into your eyes, not expecting that. He stumbles a bit with his words, unsure of what to say. Heizou keeps his trembling fingers in his pockets, not wanting to seem as if he’s that easy to fluster, though that doesn’t shy away from the slight reddening of his cheeks.

“That’s…a good one.” He simply states, keeping his eyes on your soft lips.

“Is it, Mr. Shikanoin?”

He’s aware that you’re teasing him, he knows that it’s all for fun. Yet, that doesn’t stop the fastened rate of his heart.

Next thing he knows, his own hands are moving and he’s clasping the handcuffs around your wrists.

He drowns in the approval your eyes give him, letting him know that he’s doing such a good job.

“Oh? Have I done something wrong, Detective? Or is this also protocol?”

He nods.

“You’re under arrest…for stealing my heart.”

You laugh at his statement. “You’re so cheesy. Is this how you usually act with your suspects?”

“I…Hold on.”

He lets you go, continuing to search your house. There has to be something in here, it’s too suspicious that there’s nothing. He can’t have himself distracted by you toying with him like this.

Then, he spots something inside the bedroom. He didn’t notice it at first, thinking it was a picture frame because of the way that the bedside table was covering its bottom half but now that he realizes it, he’s sure that it’s a door.

“May I move this table?” He asks.

Heizou sees you grin. A grin that sends shivers down his spine. Was he onto something after all?

“Sure, the key’s inside the drawer.”

He opens the drawer and takes the key. He then shakily opens the door right after he removes the obstacle that is your bedside table.

Heizou doesn’t like how eerily silent you get, how you’ve bruised your bottom lip from biting too hard.

He almost hesitates to open the door, intimidated by what he’ll see inside. His fingers hold the key tightly, he breathes deeply and looks back at you.

You raise an eyebrow at him, clearly amused. “Scared?”

“Yes.” He admits.

“You shouldn’t. I’m the helpless one in handcuffs, not you.” You reassure him.

While he knows you’re right, there’s still an uneasiness in his chest.

“I-I suppose.”

Heizou turns the key, expecting a crime scene. He had his choices in his head. Maybe you kidnapped someone and put them in there. Or, a dead body rotting inside that you had no way to get rid of.

However, what he sees is something unexpected.

That’s because Shikanoin Heizou sees himself.

Newspapers about him solving different crimes, arranged from when he just started to his most recent one. Pictures of him were taken discreetly, some of them even being done while he was sleeping in his office. Paintings of him, strands of his hair, and clothes that he thought went missing. It was a collection. Sort of a shrine even, but the center of it all is him.

He turns back as he hears you snickering and he has never been this glad to put someone in handcuffs in advance.

“W-What is this?” He questions.

You stare at him, confused. A confused look on your face.

“My love for you.”

“Love.” He restates.

You smile widely. Too wide that he sees your gums. Heizou’s fight and flight senses were tingling but were left with one option when you close the door with your back.

He reassures himself that it’s fine. He has a vision, you’re in handcuffs. If things were to go out of hand, he’ll end up being the victor.

“I really wanted to kill that guy.” You tell him.

“That guy?”

You nod, tightening your fist. “He was insulting you. I wanted to rip his throat out, show him what he deserves for saying such things.”

Heizou continues for you. “But you didn’t.”

It’s stupid. You know he’s a detective and yet you’re telling him all of this, as if you’re certain that you’ll come out of this without any repercussions.

“I didn’t! I knew you’d hate me if I did.”

It slowly starts to click in his head. You wanted to see him in public during his day off, that’s why you always orchestrated it at the start of every week. The letter with the beautification product, you were probably kissing it while you wrote it, knowing it’ll land in his hands.

As he thinks, the detective gets occupied and doesn’t notice that he’s centimeters away from you.

“I like that.” You say.

“Huh?”

“You’re smiling.” You point out.

Heizou uncomfortably relishes that fact. This is the second time that he’s been told that.

He hates the fact that this whole mystery has brought him such great entertainment. He’s been so focused on dealing with political problems within Inazuma that a mystery just like this brings him that thrill that he’s longing for.

This is so much better than that.

He shouldn’t enjoy it, and yet here he is.

The little detective is caught off guard as your lips smash on his. He tastes the blood from your bruised lips, how you press your mouth, your tongue sliding inside. He’s dizzy, unable to figure out whether he’s starting to choke because of how you tickle the back of his throat with your tongue or due to the lack of air.

He wants to escape, to take a breather. However, despite your hands being tied down, that doesn’t prevent you from putting pressure on his crotch to keep him still. Pleas escape from his mouth as you continue pressing down.

Heizou’s not fighting back and it stresses him. Instead, he takes your tongue so obediently as if he’s not the one who has the power to keep you locked up.

He pants as you separate from him, head buckling down and trying to focus on standing up. The fact that everything he sees is his face doesn’t help.

“Oh, I love you. I want to keep you all for myself.” Heizou sees the lovesick eyes that focus on him.

It amazes him how you’re able to handle him so easily.

You let your mouth do all the talking. Your tongue licks every sensitive part of his body, trailing saliva all over him.

“Haaa—Fuck~” He feels his knees weaken.

“Make more of those sounds, Heizou. Let me hear you more. More, more, more…”

Your insanity is nothing to laugh at, and yet he follows exactly what you say.

He pulls at your hair, tugging at your scalp as feels the same tongue on his shaft. He cannot stand up for long, whimpering with each and slow agonizing lick. He’s aware that you want to hear him beg, to scream out how much he needs you to cum.

He bears being on the edge…until he starts to get desperate.

“Please…!”

“Please, what?”

He’s too drunk on the feeling of being edged that he can barely answer, only a stuttering mess as his cock rests in your mouth.

“M-More…N-Need to cum!”

His back meets the wall as he tries to stay on balance, holding onto your head. He keeps mewling, forgetting the reason why he’s here in the first place.

“That’s right, baby. I won’t let your dick forget, make you unable to cum without me.”

He tilts his head back as he cums, sweet noises flooding your ears. His thighs shake and he’s this close to hitting the floor hard if not for your assistance. He lays meekly on the floor, white drenching his legs.

“Sweet detective, so fucked dumb. Here I thought you were a genius.”

“H-Hard again—Want to cum…” Heizou replies, showing off his ass while starting to get on all fours.

“You’re fucking your stalker. Such a pervert, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’d let anyone get with you?”

Heizou whines as you say that. That’s not true at all, you just don’t understand. He wishes he could explain, but with the way he is right now, he doubts if that’ll be possible.

The noise that leaves Heizou’s mouth as you stretch his hole out and penetrate him is embarrassing. He sounds like an animal in heat like this is what he’s made for, to mate with your dick inside of him.

He quivers as he feels your hand on his back, pushing him down but in doing so, keeping his ass up as he pushes on his own deeper into you.

He breathes in between moans, your cock screwing into his walls while his cum spills easily on the floor.

“S-So good—C-Can’t think!”

“That’s right, squeeze your walls onto my cock. Remember my shape. You’ll be taking no one else’s but mine, my love.”

He thinks that you’re so vulgar with your words, your tone encourages Heizou into another orgasm.

He cries and shivers while he gets hit with it, his walls clenching tight.

Heizou’s body is so sensitive at this point, his body being as limp as it can be.

He flinches as you empty into him, your warmth dripping to his thighs since his tiny hole can’t take all of it.

He watches it in shame, wanting all of it, wanting every single drip to be contained inside of him. The look he gives is so seductive, it would put kitsunes to shame.

You thought of ending it but with that face he made, you reconsider this decision and flip him, having his face in front of you this time.

The detective doesn’t know what he’s just gotten himself into.

Heizou sees his own cum pool onto the ground, the tears blur his eyes, he can’t stop crying at how you pound so roughly into him.

He’s lost track of the time of how long he’s stayed in this god-forsaken room. The logical part of his brain should tell you to stop, if this keeps going on, he’ll for sure be unable to even walk himself to the bathroom. Unfortunately, his mouth says the complete opposite, blabbering and even encouraging you to keep going.

“Hmpf—! Cock—Too good!”

His nails grip the tatami as he cums again. He doesn’t know how he’s still able to go on when his clothes are soaked to the brim.

He hears you laugh again. “How about a change in profession? I heard the brothel’s hiring, detective.”

He understands you’re teasing. You would absolutely not let that happen, you would kill whoever lays their hands on Heizou.

For such a person with a small stature, he has quite the stamina and skill. He sheathes you in so easily, though of course, with the necessary moaning and gasping of your name. Not only that, he perfectly warms your cock like he’s been doing this for years.

“Shit. With how much cum you’re taking, I wouldn’t be surprised if you turn up pregnant.” You say, spreading his ass to see his beautiful hole leaking cum.

“Please…” He cries out.

“Hm?”

“Please do…”

It doesn’t take much to rile you up. It’s also very obvious that anything Heizou says, you will follow.

You slam hard into Heizou, each thrust has it that the detective’s insides are being flipped, his guts being adjusted just so he could take more and more of you.

He can see your cock’s shape in his belly, his thin figure doing nothing to hide it. It’s starting to round up due to his belly that’s filled with your cum. You keep fucking him hard, until your load spills inside his walls.

When Heizou wakes up, he realizes that he can’t move an inch. He’s clean, his clothes are changed and he smells good.

He’s in your bedroom. He concludes this because he sees a glimpse of your strange room filled with things of his. With the amount of time he’s spent in there, he gets light-headed even from just thinking about it.

The doorknob turns and he sees you come in, a bowl of warm noodles in your hands.

He blinks.

You’re not wearing the handcuffs.

He wonders how you got out and where you put them instead.

He looks down.

Heizou sighs.

#plattered writings #heizou x reader #dom reader #sub genshin impact #dom!reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #sub heizou #sub!heizou #heizou shikanoin

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phoenixsbby · 2 years

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This Isn’t What It Looks Like - Hangman x Bartender!reader

summary: Hangman is totally, 100% over his ex … he just needs a fake girlfriend to prove it.

WC: 5.2k

a/n: let’s take every cliche romance trope and turn it into a Hangman fic, shall we?

warnings: mentions of sex, swearing

“No, absolutely not.”

“What?! Why?” Hangman’s leaning over the bar, staring you down intently while you finish up the closing tasks of the Hard Deck. You ran the last call bell awhile ago, happy to see everyone closed out promptly. Everyone except Hangman, that is. No, Hangman continued to linger until you said goodnight to the last patron. Then he approached, marched right up to where you’d been cleaning with that charming grin spread across his lips. You knew you were in for it.

“Do you know how ridiculous this sounds?” Hangman just shrugs. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend to prove to your ex that you’ve moved on ... which by the way you so clearly have not.”

“I have. And ... yes?”

“You think we can act like we like each other enough to convince her we’re in love?”

“I don’t see it being a problem.” His eyes flicker across your face before dropping to your body, giving it a quick once over. Heat rushes to your cheeks, despite the fact that it’s not the first time Hangman has looked at you that way.

“Why is she even going to be here? A Naval base isn’t an ideal tourist attraction.”

“It is if you’re an Admirals daughter.” He visibly winces as your jaw compulsively drops.

“Oh, Hangman.” You tsk at him, fighting back a smirk that threatens to break out.

“That’s beyond the point.” He swats at the air as if trying to magically push the conversation along.

“Well, what’s in it for me?”

“My undying gratitude?”

You hum, tapping a sarcastic finger against your chin before replying, “Next.”

“Y/NNNN.” He whines your name, like a child pleading with their parents for just one more piece of candy. Anyone and everyone who knows him could tell you that Jake Seresin has an ego. They would say that he’s demanding and likes to remind people that more often than not, he gets what he wants. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Hangman beg for anything before ... you kind of like it.

“Jaaaakkkeee.” You match his tone, pouting your bottom lip a bit for emphasis.

“I’ll scrub the bar clean for two weeks, I’ll take Marlie to the dog park every weekend for the next month, I’ll kiss the god damn floor you walk on.” The offer is tempting, you can’t deny that. You act like you’re considering it while simultaneously wiping down a glass as he continues. "We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You and Hangman are friends, in every way that a bartender at a Navy bar and a Naval Lieutenant can be. On nights when he’s not deployed or doesn’t have too early of a morning the next day, he’ll come around. Sometimes he’s with friends, sometimes he comes alone. On a couple of rare nights when the place is quiet, Jake will keep you company by choosing a seat at the bar rather than a table tucked in the back. When you can, you’ll sit beside him, make small talk, play some cards, or people watch until you earn a glare from the old guy who always challenges people to a game of darts despite having the worst aim you’ve ever seen.

During those nights, the ones you let resurface in your mind more times that you’d like to admit, you’ll find your legs tangled in between his, your bodies leaning in, unconsciously craving the closeness. You liked the way it felt to have some part of you pressed against him, liked the way his heat mixed with yours. Usually the contact ended when you remembered you had a job to do but, you never willingly pulled away. You noticed he never did either.

“That’s a loose term for it, sure.” It’s a lie and you both know it.

“And friends do favors for other friends, right?” He raises his brows, his normal grin turning into a sly and suggestive one.

This time while wiping down a new glass, you actually consider it. In the time that you’ve known Jake, he’s been there for you. Again, there are only so many ways that a bartender and a bar patron can be there for each other but, Jake has checked almost all the boxes.

And then there was that one night, the one you’re too eager to blame on alcohol despite only having two drinks a couple hours apart. Sometimes after you get home from work, still buzzing from the energy of the bar, you’ll stare up at your bedroom ceiling and allow the memory to play out like a movie inside your head.

“I think it’s about time for me to get you home.” Hangman bopped your nose with the tip of his pointer finger. The crowd at the bar didn’t look like it would be dwindling out any time soon, drinks were flowing, people were singing and dancing. You were reveling in the fact that you had the night off but, were choosing to ignore that you were spending said night off at your workplace.

“What? Why? I’m not even-“

“Drunk, I know. But it’s late and I’d like to be sure that you make it home safely.” Jake said and you forced yourself to not to acknowledge the way his smile, soft and sweet, made your heart drum harder against your breastbone.

“Ever the gentleman.” You poked his nose back and let him drive you home. It was the middle of the summer which meant the California day heat lingered well past dark and you’d insisted that every single window in Jakes jeep be rolled down. The normally humid breeze was cool against your hot, slightly sweaty skin and whipped through your hair as you watched the coast pass by in a blur.

A hand was placed gently on your thigh, not too high but, certainly not low. A warm feeling, like static electricity, radiated from where his palm rested, spreading its way higher and higher until it pooled in between your legs. Without looking over at him, you settled your hand on the top of his and intertwined your fingers together.

When he pulled into the driveway of the small cottage you were renting, neither of you made any efforts to remove your hands from each others hold. The head rush you were getting from the sensation of his skin on yours was enough to have you question whether or not you were actually drunk.

But there was no way. Alcohol had nothing to do with the tidal wave of want that came over you when your eyes finally met, still sitting in the car, with only the center console keeping your bodies apart. You’d like to believe that want wasn’t derived from the fact that a very attractive man was staring at you like any second he’d devour you (although, that was certainly a driving factor).

You wanted to believe the result was from the fact that you knew Jake Seresin. You knew all his favorite restaurants he ate at growing up in Texas and how his dad was an asshole who’s never truly seen how great of son he raised. He was Jake, the aviator who listened to you babble on about your training your new puppy and your many failures attempts to find new hobbies. He was the man who really saw you and came back night after night anyway.

You felt a rush of coldness cover your body when he lifted his hand from your leg and stepped into the balmy San Diego night. He rounded the car and stopped in front of your door before pulling it open and reaching for you to help you climb out. You took his hand and shamelessly clung to his arm and to his side until you reached your front door.

You lingered there, allowing your key to hover just above the lock before deciding to throw all caution to the wind. He was much closer than you anticipated, your chests nearly colliding when you turned to face him. Neither of you spoke, like you were afraid that one wrong word or sound would pop this bubble of earnest tension you’d created.

He took a step forward and your knee-jerk reaction was to take one back so, he continued pressing you until your back met the wood of your front door with a thump. Your breathing began to turn unsteady when he reached a hand up, hovering, almost waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, he let himself push a few stray strands of hair behind your ear while inching his face closer and closer and closer until …

He stopped with only a few inches left separating your faces. He was so close, you were engulfed in his scent - spicy and sweet and completely Jake. His hand moved down to your face, tracing, pressing, caressing its way down your throat and to your collarbones. He looked possessed, a man completely captivated by you and your skin.

With an easy dip of your head, you let your lips dance over his sharp jaw line, desperate to relieve this aching pressure that was building inside of you. More pressure mounted when you saw, when you felt, the way his body reacted to your movements. He released a long, rattled, shaky breath and gripped the door frame beside you for dear life.

His knee nudged its way in between your legs and you fought the urge to moan at its solidness, so close to where you needed him the most. He pulled his face back, just enough to gaze down at you through hooded eyes.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice came out rough and guttural, like he was physical forcing the words to come out.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You didn’t, not in the slightest. In fact, you were seconds away from getting down on the ground and begging him to touch you, to love you. You reached out and let your hands travel from his uniformed chest down to his stomach, feeling the dips and ridges of his hard muscles beneath your palms.

He scooped up your hands with his and held them, so tightly, before bringing them to his lips. He kissed them, branding your skin as if his lips were hot irons, muttered a ‘goodnight’ then walked away.

You hadn’t felt that way, that impassioned and desperate in a long time. Maybe you’ll do this for Hangman because he’s right, friends do favors for each other. Or maybe you’ll do it for more selfish reasons, ones you’ll never so much as openly admit to having.

“Marlie likes to be at the park early, like really early to get the best pick of the sticks. And you don’t have to clean the bar but, I wouldn’t mind some company after-“

You let out a grunt when Hangman reaches across the bar, grabs you by the arms, and hauls you into him. The wood of the bar top is drilling into your hips, poking so uncomfortably into your bones yet, you don’t move. You sink into him despite the pain.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He squeezes you then pulls back, ruffling a hand through your hair which you quickly bat away.

“Yes, I know, I’m the best. So ... where do we start?”

——

The Friday night rush at the Hard Deck was showing you no mercy, you barely had a minute to breathe, let alone time to think about your agreement with Hangman. In fact, the predicament hadn’t even crossed your mind until your eyes meet unmistakable, rich green ones with a contagious grin to match from across the bar.

“M’love.” He greets you as you set down two cold beers in front of him.

“Hangster.” You greet him back with a wink. You go to move on to the next customer when you hear him call you back.

“Just a heads up, she should be here soon.”

“Ah, yes, she who shall not be named.” You smirk, trying to do your job while holding the conversation. You pop off a few lids and swipe some empties before looking back at him, noticing that he’s not smirking along with you.

“Y/N.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, Jake, I’m ready to wow her. You are going to look so over her by the time I’m through with you.”

“I’m walking away now.” He grumbles as he grabs the beers and turns to go meet up with his fellow pilots.

“See ya later, babe!” You call after him, chuckling to yourself before getting back in the zone. Some of your friends and family had scrutinized you at first when they heard you were bartending. They acted like it was a black hole for all career potential but, they’re wrong. Bartending is no easy gig, it requires a lot of skill and acute focus.

Most nights, you allowed yourself to only pay attention to what was going on behind the bar and those sitting across from it. You rarely noticed the ebb and the flow of the crowd, who came in and who came out. Tonight however, you’re distracted, catching yourself watching the door, staring at any pretty girl that comes in wondering if she’s the one.

You’re in the middle of a lighthearted conversation with one of your favorite veterans, your back facing the door, when you hear Jake call for you. When you turn around, you’re met with Hangman’s bright smile and a beautiful blonde attached to his side. Your eyes flicker to where his arm is wrapped around her back, to where their hips connect, before forcing yourself to refocus on literally anywhere else that isn’t Jake’s body coming in contact with hers.

He introduces her to you, her name is as pretty and enchanting as her princess style hair. She must get it blown out once a week, that volume is too good to be natural. And her skin is nearly flawless, kind of glowing. There’s no way she uses drug store skin care. God damn, you need to get it together.

“This,” Hangman reaches across the bar, his fingers tucking a stray piece of hair that fell away from your pony tail back over your ear “is my gorgeous girlfriend, Y/N.”

“It’s great to meet you.” You force the words to come out steady and sweet, not because you want to spite her but, because you feel rattled after that touch, under the gentle look Jake is giving you.

“Likewise.” She replies with a smile.

“I’m due for a break soon, I’ll meet you guys when I’m off?” You place a bottle of the beer Jake usually gets down in front of him and ask his ex what she’d like. After mixing her a vodka soda, she tells you she can’t wait to hear about how you and Hangman met and fell in love.

You send Hangman a uh-wait-we-never-discussed-that look as he leads her away from the bar, holding your eyes to his for as long as he can over his shoulder.

Over the next fifteen minutes, you can’t help but watch them interact in between serving. Are they standing too close? Have they made any attempts at touching each other? You notice Hangman’s smiling and laughing a lot and it’s not that you don’t like seeing him happy, you just want to get a better understanding of how truthful he was when he said he’s moved on.

When your designated break time rolls around, you let Penny know and clock out with record speed before making a beeline for Hangman. When you reach him, you place a hand on his back to let him know you’re there causing him to spin around to face you.

“There she is.” His eyes twinkle with recognition before he tugs you against him, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Wow, he’s good at this. You wrap your arm around him in response, fisting the material of his shirt in your hand to keep him close. All for show, of course.

“So, Y/N,” His ex pulls your attention towards her “how long have you been a bartender here?”

“Almost a year.” You smile, a completely natural one associated with all of the memories of working at the Hard Deck. “I take classes during the day so, helping Penny out at night works out well for me.”

“She’s in a graduate program, working toward becoming an electrical engineer.” Jake adds, causing you to jerk your eyes to meet his. “Her dad was an engineer for the Navy. Guess you two have something else in common other than being completely enamored by me.” His ex lets out a loud laugh and playfully smacks Hangman’s arm, all while you just stare.

You’re shocked he remembers that. You told him about it once, when you first met. Since then, he’s asked about how classes were going but, you figured he wouldn’t remember the specifics.

“She’s so smart.” He holds your eyes to his while resting a hand against the back of your neck and kneading it gently. Holy shit, you might spontaneously combust.

‘That’s really cool, Y/N.” She says, snapping you out of your trance.

“Thanks.” Your voice comes out a bit coarse so, you clear your throat and turn to smile at her. “Not as cool as having an Admiral for a father. I bet that got Jake in just the right amount of trouble.” You pinch his side, smiling wider as he jumps and grabs your hand tightly.

“Oh, yeah.” You watch as her eyes flicker to Hangman, a vaguely recognizable and totally unsubtle look, almost like desire, settles over her features. “We used to really get into it.”

…oh?

You let out a hesitant chuckle, hoping Hangman will take the reins on steering this conversation somewhere else but when you glance up at him, you see him looking back at her with a matching expression of longing. You feel it like a punch to the chest and squeeze his hand that’s still locked around yours.

His ex is the first to shake out what can only be described as their staring contest, looking to you with a tight smile. “Well, let’s hear it! How did you guys end up together?”

“Yeah guys,” Phoenix and Rooster come strolling over to your group, sharing matching pompous smirks “tell us all about it.” Phoenix rests her elbows on the table while Rooster takes a seat, both ready to watch the Y/N and Hangman show. The only thing they’re missing is a bowl of popcorn.

“Spilled drink!”

“The beach!”

Oh, shit. Your voices layer right over each other and now you have three sets of eyebrows raised sky high in your direction. Phoenix releases a snort into her drink and Rooster’s grinning like he just won the freaking lottery.

You and Hangman’s eyes dart to meet, a muscle in his jaw clicking, one of your eyes twitching before you open your mouth to try and recover the situation.

“Well, yeah, uh .. we met because this smooth pilot knocked a beer right out of my hand and onto my shirt.” You feel a smile, a real, honest smile come across your face because what you were saying was true. The first time you met, Jake had turned around right into you, knocking over three drinks and soaking you in cheap alcohol.

You can remember the look on his face vividly, the way he was opening his mouth to say something along the lines of ‘watch where you’re going’ but, stopped short as he took you in. When your eyes met, when you felt the scorch of his stare on your skin, getting the stains out of one of your favorite shirts was the last thing on your mind.

“I asked her to meet me on the beach after her shift.” Hangman adds. “We walked together, I told her I’d pay for a new shirt but, she insisted it wasn’t necessary.” Still true. “She said she sees the stain as a kind of reminder. She’d look at it and always think of me ... and how insanely good looking I am.” You roll your eyes playfully, hearing a chorus of laughs and groans from around you.

“I really wanted to kiss her then.” His grin simmers down into a look of yearning, one that’s almost slightly pained.

“And you did, right? Kiss her?” His ex asks.

“Yeah.” Hangman clears his throat, pulling his eyes away from yours. “And she’s been mine ever since.”

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest?” Phoenix coos before sending you a wink and pulling a still grinning Bradley up and towards the bar.

You’re blessed with an opportunity to divert the conversation (because any more and your heart may give out) when an older, but classic song you recognize instantly plays from the jukebox.

“Oh, this is my favorite song.” You say as the slow rhythm flows through the bar.

“Well you heard her, Hangman! Dance with her!” His ex smiles, pushing you two toward the area that others have designated as a makeshift dance floor.

“Oh no, that’s okay.” You shake your head, laughing nervously.

“We should,” Hangman takes your hand and starts to tread backwards, pulling you along with him “before you have to get back to your shift.”

You let him pull your body flush against his before he props the hand he was holding on his chest and grabs the other one to hold up in the air. You’re thankful when he sways you softly, worried that heavier movements mixed with the dizziness that his proximity brings would most likely result with you hitting the floor.

“I’d say it’s working.” His breath grazes your temple, pulling a shudder out from deep within your body.

“Hm?” You hum, pulling back a bit to look into his eyes.

“Our relationship. She seems convinced.” You swallow thickly and nod, glad in someway that you’ve managed to persuade this woman into thinking you’re in love with each other. You must be great actors, maybe you should both consider a career change. “She told me she was single.”

“Oh.” You mutter, seemingly all you can manage in that moment. “And how do you feel about that?”

He holds your stare with slightly furrowed brows and you can see the wheels turning inside his mind. Whether or not it’s because he’s reading yours or formulating his answer, you’re not sure. And you may never know because the sound of the bell pulls you away from him and his attention. When you glance over at the bar, it’s packed and Penny looks like she’s drowning.

Without giving it much thought, you press a kiss to Hangman’s cheek and whisper “I’ll see you later.” before booking it back to work.

——

You lose track of time, as you do frequently when the bar is this full. A couple of minutes may have passed, maybe a few hours, before Penny taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, sweetie. Can you do me a favor and run these out back? They’re taking up too much room behind here.” Penny asks, arms full of empty Coors Light boxes. You happily accept them from her grasp and make your way out of the back exit. When you manage to push the door open, you’re met with the sight of Hangman and his ex. Alone. Out back. With her hand on his chest.

You flinch involuntarily, nearly dropping the boxes all over the pavement. Hangman takes a big step backwards and his ex tucks her hands behind her back, all while you just stand there, wide-eyed. Should you be mad, as his fake girlfriend? It shouldn’t really hurt yet, it does. You can feel that pain settling in like a pit in your stomach. Does this count as cheating, even if technically no cheating can occur if everyone involved is single? If it is, should you cause a scene?

Ugh, they need a rule book for the parameters of fake dating.

“Y/N,” Jake takes a step toward you “this isn’t what it looks like.” Your eyes flicker between Hangman and his ex, who both do a horrible job of hiding their guilt stricken features and you think okay, that’s bull but, you plaster on a smile anyway.

“No, yeah, of course. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.” You toss the boxes into the recycling before heading back toward the door. You’ve almost scurried your way out of the situation when you hear Jake call your name again. You grip the handle, hard, and look over your shoulder. “I’ve got to get back in there.”

And that, you do. You work feverishly, like the only thing in the world that matters to you is serving the best drinks these customers have ever had. You only focus on three things; pouring, cleaning, cashing out and doing it again and again. You certainly do not focus on the thought of Hangman and his ex, standing so close, touching each other.

Pour, clean, cash out, pour, clean, cash out.

When Penny rings the last call bell, the relief you feel is so deep that you’re sure it’s radiating from your bones. The night’s finally over, which means you can put these weird, confusing circumstances with Hangman to bed and return back to your completely normal friendship tomorrow.

You were hoping to head out early, sneaky and silent to avoid a certain someone. But Penny asked you to cover the closing duties and you simply cannot say no to that wonderful woman. So you stayed busy and by the time the bar is cleared out, you want to celebrate - you’ve successfully evaded that conversation.

That is, until Hangman comes sauntering up to the bar seemingly out of no where.

“So, about earlier. I can explain-“

“Don’t worry, we’re not actually dating remember? So, no real apologies needed.”

“Right.” A beat of silence passes. You’re very close to being the one to break the silence, to ask him if you were going to pretend this night ever happened or simply ignore all of it and say goodnight. But, he beats you to it.

“She asked me if I thought we were going to last. She asked me for a second chance, something about seeing me after all this time and realizing she still has feelings.” You nod, putting on a brave face. If that’s what Jake wants, if being back with her would make him happy then, so be it.

“I told her I didn’t want her. I told her I loved you.” You swallowed the emotion clawing its way up your throat.

“Right, because to her, we’re in a completely legitimate relationship and couldn’t be happier.”

“Exactly.” More silence and you take it as an opportunity to really look at him. You take in his droopy posture, his slightly unfocused eyes. He looks sad. And all you want to do is make him feel better.

“Hey,” You place a hand over his “hypothetically, you chose the moral high road tonight. I’m proud of you for that. You don’t deserve someone who would put herself out there for a guy who’s taken.” You wink to try to lighten his mood but, he only manages a give you a thin grin back.

“I’m sure you’ll find the right someone ... someday.” You add, the words tasting like battery acid on your tongue.

“I’m not really looking.” He grits out, removing his hand from under yours.

“But .. you leave with women all the time, I’ve seen you.” You scoff, turning around because you need to scrub the other side of the bar and because you know if he continues to look you in the eye for long enough, he’ll see right through you. He’ll see right into your heart and find that little part of it you’ve tucked away for him.

“You’re seeing things then because I haven’t. I haven’t slept with a woman, even so much as thought about it since ...” He trails off and you pause, anticipation compelling your body to vibrate, like a jet engine starting up inside your chest.

“Since when?”

“Since I met you.”

You feel your breath hitch and have to grip the edge of the bar to keep yourself up right considering your limbs have decided to turn to gelatin. You turn to face him, taking in his glazed over eyes and delicate features.

“But that was-“

“Trust me, you do not need to remind me how long it’s been.” He forces out a breathy chuckle. You’re convinced that blood no longer pumps in your veins, fire courses through you instead and it’s igniting every particle in your body like they’re sparks waiting to catch. You drop the rag you’ve been using and step out from behind the bar, aching to be closer to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I figured you didn’t want to be with someone like me. Someone who’s gone half the time, someone who may never come back.” He shakes his head, letting it hang low. “I didn’t want to put you through that.”

You reach out, tracing the collar of his khaki uniform with your fingertips. “Can’t I make that decision for myself?”

“You can,” He looks up, resting a hand over the one you have against him “but if you chose to be with me then, you’re making the wrong one.”

“Then let me be wrong.” You let Jake guide your hand to his cheek. He leans into your touch before putting his other hand around your waist and pulling you into him. He kisses you with all the hunger and passion you felt the night on your porch, that you’ve continued to feel for him since. His lips are warm and burning with need as he takes control, diving his tongue deeper like he’s desperate for air and the only oxygen left in the word is buried inside you.

He pushes his body against yours, walking you back into the wooden edge of the bar. Desperation starts to bleed through, wrecking all your precision and turning both of your movements sloppy and frantic. You think it must be unnatural to kiss someone with this much desire, to no longer need air as much as you need their lips on yours. Eventually, one of you will pull away to breathe but, you’ll be on your last dying gasp before you do.

What pulls you away from each other isn’t basic human need - it’s Penny, pushing through the door from the kitchen and freezing in her tracks once she realizes what she’s seeing.

You break apart with blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment rather than lust.

“Pen, uh-“ You push Jake further away from you “this isn’t what it looks like?”

Hangman laughs, latching his hand around yours before pulling you back to him without remorse. “Sorry Penny, this is exactly what it looks like.”

——

^ me, preaching Hangman supremacy

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman fic #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin fic #jake 'hangman' seresin fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun #top gun fanfiction

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Text

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of death, swearing, mentions of a knife, mentions of starvation, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Six - Prayers

—-

1996-

Late last night, Misty had heated up the blade of the axe she used to cut Coach Ben’s leg off, and pressed it to his wound. He screamed for only a moment, before it tapered off- stopping abruptly.

When you got up to check if he was still alive, Misty was wrapping the new burned wound on his leg, and his breathing was harsh and heavy, but he was breathing.

With the silent forest, save the crackling of the fire and the sounds of the wilderness, you eventually fell asleep- telling yourself that morning will come, and so will rescue.

When you woke up, there was no rescue, and all of the girls whispered that it would simply come later in the day.

In the meantime, the grave digging started.

They weren’t finished until noon, using scrap bits of metal from the plane as shovels. Everyone stands around the small plot of graves, marked by pieces of metal with names drawn in marker.

You wonder faintly if that’s what they would have wanted.

Now, the earth is freshly scared with the imprint of the bodies, raising up the soil, but soon- the scars will fade. The ground will level out again. And besides for the metal marking the graves- no one would know they’re there.

“Before we took off,” Van starts, staring at the grave right in front of her, “I heard Rachel say that she was going to see Oasis at the Meadowlands next month. She was really excited. And she’s never gonna hear “Wonderwall” again.”

You can’t help but dig your feet into the ground, the tip of your Converse making a small indent in the soft soil. You thought back to what Shauna said to Javi. Is it really like sleeping? Does the dirt feel like a blanket? Are they warm? Cold?

“Come on,” Laura Lee says after a moment. “Let’s join hands.”

Squished between two freshmen, you hold out your hands, and the two girls on either side of you tenderly intwine their hands with yours.

“We’ll pray for them,” she says, and you almost smile- because what else would you expect from Laura Lee?

Slowly, all of the girls follow suit, grabbing hands, closing their eyes.

“Rachel,” Laura Lee starts, “You just moved up from JV, so we didn’t really know you. But, in Trig, you never confuses your secants and your cosecants. You seemed really smart. Anyone else?”

“I saw her carry a flute case once,” Van rushes out.

“Oh, Lord, please accept Rachel Goldman into your arms so that she may fill your kingdom with music.” She licks her lips, and blinks harshly. “Please accept Coach Martinez into your glory, too, and flight attendant Janet, pilot Robert, pilot Fred. Even thought I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”

The world seems to fade out, and you faintly remember the funeral your mother had taken you too, the open casket, the eerie stillness of the body of a woman you never knew. But she knew you.

Your mother had told you not to be scared of death. But she had never been to the wilderness before.

“The Lord is my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Lord is my strength. Whom shall I fear?”

“I’m going for a walk,” Tai announces suddenly, letting go of the others hands, walking towards the forest, away from the graves.

And soon, everyone followed suit, their hands dropping.

—-

“This is all we have?” one of the girls asks, a group gathered around the small collection of food and drinks the flight attendant was giving out.

“Yeah. We gotta ration,” Van says. She studies the small collection, before glancing at Shauna. “Okay. Cut them,” she says, leaving the knife next to the food. “Split this water,” she says to another girl, giving her a plastic water bottle.

“Well,” Jackie starts, looking at a small chocolate covered treat Shauna had given to her, “Maybe we can find something in the forest. I saw some berries-”

You perk up. “What did they look like?”

Jackie frowns. “Uh… they looked like little oranges.”

“Oh, no, you can’t eat those.” Everyone looks at you, confused and curious. You feel your cheeks warm up, but a suddenly realization comes to you. You are useful. You know the plants. “They’re probably Buckthorn berries, which are native around here. If you eat them, they cause swelling of uh, the nervous system, I think.” Another moment of silence. “My mother is a botanist, so…”

“Shit, really?” Van asks, looking around the woods. “You know what we can eat from here?”

You nod, feeling a little proud. “Um, elderberries should be around here too. If we cook those, then they’re not poisonous, but uncooked one’s are.”

“Okay,” Shauna nods, “we’ll have a little more to go off of.”

Akilah starts rationing out the water using the little plastic from the cart, everyone reminding her not to spill any.

Suddenly, Travis stands up and marches over to the pile of food, grabbing a bag of CornNuts.

“Dude!” Can shouted after him.

“Travis, what are you doing?” Jackie asks, and all of you watch as he marches off, not even looking back.

You stare at the small bag he has clutched in his fist, your stomach twisting angrily at the sight.

“Uh… Maybe you didn’t notice, but we’re kind of in a situation here, Flex.” Lottie says.

“Don’t.” Nat says.

Travis turns around for just a moment, leveling a sharp glare at Lottie, before continuing into the trees.

“Who died and made him king of snacks?” Lottie spits.

“His dad, Lottie. Literally… his fucking dad.”

“Nat’s right,” Jackie sighs. “We should cut him some slack.”

“I guess it’s fine if we all starve to death, as long as Travis’s feelings are okay…” Mari says.

“No one is starving to death. When the rescue team gets here, it’ll be fine, but for now-” Jackie starts.

“You mean if it gets here.”

“Don’t say that, Van.” Jackie says, looking slightly shocked.

“It… has been three days, Jackie.”

She smiles a bit, whether to cover up her true feelings, or if she really believes that they’ll come, you don’t know.

“They’re coming.”

—-

“Guys!” Tai shouted, returning finally from her long walk, panting. “Guys! There’s a lake! There’s a lake. I saw it from over that hill,” she points, “It looks about 4 or 5 miles away.”

You couldn’t help a small smile from winding its way onto your face. Elderberries would grow well in the soil by a lake, and other plants too. Maybe if you could just get there and recognize a few of them, you would remember more, and be able to help more-

“Do you think we can hike it?” Shauna asks.

“It’s pretty rocky,” Taissa breathes, “but yeah.”

“Uh, we, uh, we can’t… we can’t just leave,” Jackie stutters, standing up and gesturing from the plane to the direction Taissa came from.

You can tell she has no support.

“We have two days of water, tops.”

Jackie shakes her head slightly, as if to say “so?”

“And then what?” Tai continues. “Just sit around and die?” Your stomach twists.

Before all of this, you had things you wanted to do, a life you wanted to live.

“What of the rescue team comes?”

“Do you think they’re taking their time on purpose?” Taissa looks around, and while some people haven’t accepted it- you’re not a fool. If they were coming, they would have come by now. “If they knew where we were then they would be here already.”

“You don’t know that,” Jackie sneers, not unkindly, but she gets the point across.

“What do you think, Coach?”

Everyone turns to the man who you once thought wouldn’t make it through the night, now barely alive, sitting on a plane seat the girls had dragged outside. He relied on Misty for everything.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” he says, clutching his amputated leg. “Uh, I mean, you’d have to leave me behind. But, whatever.”

“We could make you a stretcher,” Tai declares, looking around. But at the first inkling that going to the lake would keep you all alive for longer- most of the girls were swayed.

“Oh, okay,” Jackie laughs.

“Seriously. If we take turns carrying it-”

“N-no! This-this is bullshit. I say no. Okay? No way.”

After Jackie’s outburst, no one speaks for a second. You look around the group of girls gathered, and most of them can’t even look at Jackie. They’ve already made their decision. You look at Nat, but her eyes are fixed to the floor.

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Tai says, staring at Jackie. “All in favor of waiting here?” Jackie raises her hand. Only a few other girls follow suit. “All in favor of the lake?” Tai raises her hand, and after a moment, you do as well.

Natalie raises her hand too.

Even Shauna raises her hand, which earns her a scorching glare from Jackie, but before anything else can happen, Tai speaks.

“Then it’s settled.”

—-

You stuffed all your clothes into your bag, a hairbrush, other toiletries- and finally, after a moment, you grabbed the small glass cube. Your mom had gifted it to you a few years ago, back when she was around more, before your dad had left, and she hadn’t thrown herself into your work and slowly stared to forget about you.

The rest of these girls probably all had people who cared for them. Who wanted them to come home. You wondered if your mother had even noticed your absence.

Inside the small glass cube was a preserved sample of deadly nightshade. A small stem with a few berries, one leaf. You wondered often if the poison still worked.

Slowly, everyone filed into a rough line, and you all began your descent to the lake.

You wondered faintly if Laura Lee should have lead you all in prayer before you started the hike.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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captainjunglegym · 4 months

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WIP Wednesday - 31/01/2024

Tagged by jon @bigassbowlingballhead <3

Uhhh so much in my brain here's a few things. Once I've finished my groundhog day fic, Henry Fox is Alive (which shall b soon) I'll do another long form firstprince fic AND some other short smutty ones too i believe

Untitled 'Other Woman' Fic (Firstprince, AU, chaptered)

Alex isn’t a detective. In fact, Alex is oblivious to most things. He didn’t know that his sister and his best friend were dating until Nora (the best friend) and June (the sister) were practically dry humping on his futon after his birthday party. He didn’t know that one of his law professors was part of a scheme that was laundering money for a corrupt business, even though the signs were there in hindsight. And his parents divorce? Well that certainly caught him off guard. But he isn’t stupid. Despite the aforementioned corrupt law professor, Alex does actually have a law degree from NYU and he does work at a very prestigious law firm in New York City. So, when the guy he’s been seeing, Marcus, accidentally texts him using the wrong name – well, he knows how it goes. Guys are cheaters. The texts say the following: Marcus 🍆 H, I’m going to be out of town thurs – Sunday for meetings (Lie, he's going upstate with Alex for a vacation.) Marcus 🍆 I love you and I’m kissing you (Barf) Marcus 🍆 Also remember the plumber is coming Friday to fix the sink in our ensuite (Oh, goodie they live together, and they have an ensuite. Pretentious pricks.) It takes Alex too long to realise, after he’d received these texts, that if Marcus lives with this H person, then it's Alex who is ‘the other woman.’ Fucking shit. And so, the detective work begins. He ghosts Marcus’ cheating ass, then sets about to find H and tell him he’s living with a lying cheating piece of shit. What could possibly go wrong?

No pressure tags for a few moots but it's late in the game y'all probs already been tagged! @eusuntgratie @sunnysideprince @nocoastposts @anincompletelist (and @ anyone who wants to get tagged! Again i've barely had this blog two minutes so let me know if you wanna get tagged in this stuff!)

other (more depraved) wips under the cut:

Untitled watersports fic (firstprince, canon, oneshot) 😵‍💫😳

Alex’s depraved mind lights up. “Get your cock out baby.” “What?” Henry squeaks. “Get your cock out,” Alex commands. “Let me get you hard so you can hold it better.” And Alex really is a certified freak, getting so much enjoyment out of this. But Henry, forever his good boy, does as he’s told and lets out little breathy moans as he pulls his cock out of his pants. He’s already a little hard, chubbed up from the pressure, and Alex wastes no time in getting his hands on it. He squeezes Henry’s cock in a way he knows feels good when you’re dying for a piss. Henry lets out a punchy little ‘uh’ and lets his head flop backwards onto the headrest. Alex begins pumping Henry’s cock slowly as it hardens, and it’s a little dry, but Alex has a feeling it won’t be dry for much longer.

An Invitation to fuck my mouth (Nick/Taylor RPF, oneshot, part of a series)

He finds himself staring. Any and all opportunity, Taylor will stare slack jawed and dumb, captivated by Nick’s elegant neck and those ridiculous lips. Nick could be talking to someone, a friend or something. He could be just sat there watching his dumb Arsenal on tv and Taylor will have to pinch the skin of his thigh to stop staring, to stop getting hard just from looking at him. But those lips. Taylor knows they feel good on his cock. And that neck. Well, Taylor isn’t unused to wrapping a hand around it. He wants more though. He wants to choke Nick with his cock. He wants to see his big dick fuck that throat raw. It’s depraved and dirty and a little scary. Nick’s not a delicate flower, but Taylor doesn’t want to hurt him. Wait. No. He kind of does. “Fuck.” He says out loud. “You alright darling?” Nick asks, oblivious. Yeah, he wants to fuck this man’s throat.

#fic tag #wip wednesday #its also barely wednesday for me now its 23:54 lol

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fatuismooches · 11 months

Note

🎈 anon here im going to keep going on about pantalone with his darling who makes him handmade gifts (same thing not a request if i have a request I'll probably specify because im v worried u have too many and i dont wanna add to the pile :< so if i dont specify treat it like me approaching you in the middle of the night going absolutely insane about the silly little criminals in my computer, like grabbing u by the shoulders shaking you and everything) i had to put the brainrot in my notes app to finish because the Tumblr app is held together by glitter glue /affectionate

OK SO BACK ON MY INSANITY we're doing bracelets for this one too because im a silly little self insert enjoyer. so i was thinking about how u said he'd keep them in a little box and i just, went insane because it was so cute in my head.. Imagining him keeping them especially safe compared to his other jewelry, and while it's on display and he'd be a bit upset if they were taken by a disgruntled agent, he could just buy another one. Although if one of his darling's handmade pieces of jewelry were stolen he'd feel so bad for not only letting it get stolen, but knowing that you worked so hard on it for him but it got stolen so quickly :( He'd hire or personally look for it until the ends of the earth and if his darling found out and was like "i could've just made you another one he would be like, gothic bold font "no" and i find that really cute!! lonnie is such a cutie patootie i need to squish him!!!! Anyway i keep imagining him being so proud of seeing his darling improve as he keeps getting these cute gifts handmade from them.. ok but also what if his darling made a bunch at once and told him to close his eyes no peeking (how would that work actually his eyes are always closed uhh power of brainrot ig) and they put them all on him at once and he's like ":0" and he's super excited and and and (starts sobbing violently /pos) ALSO IMAGINE IMAGINE LIKE.. WHAT IF HIS DARLING GETS HIM INTO THEIR CRAFT TOO.... AND THEY WORK ON IT TOGETHER..... PLEASE I AM MELTING I AM GOING CRAZY anyway i love pantalone 10/10 would chew on him again also will update u if more thoughts infuriate my brain you are not safe from my brainrots they will haunt you forever <3

i know i specified earlier that im 🎈 anon but i feel weird without doing the little dash thingy so - 🎈

IM GRABBING YOUR SHOULDERS SHAKING U AFFECTIONATELY AS WELL 🎈 ANON...

You're so right nonnie, bro's the type of guy to not bat an eye at his jewelry worth millions of Mora being stolen but then internally start panicking when he realizes something you gave him is gone. His brain is working overtime even more than usual trying to figure out how he's going to get it back. (And if he orders the regular Fatui to look for it, he gives them a look to not question him whatsoever on why he is so concerned about a not expensive at all handmade piece of jewelry as compared to literal gold <3) (From then on he's keeping your creations under severe lock and key, he's never letting that happen again, feels secretly guilty about that even though you weren't even mad 😭)

Reader: hey, don't feel bad about it! i can just make you a new one love-

Pantalone: 𝖓𝖔

And omg Loonie? For Pantalone? That's such a cute nickname I'm stealing that now 😭 Okay but consider: I think Pantalone kind of has like a business brain, meaning he's always thinking of lucrative opportunities and such. So for a split second he thinks hey... this is kind of a sweet business. But then immediately he perishes the thought because the idea of anyone else receiving your cute little handmade jewelry makes him unreasonably upset. Only he shall ever receive these from you and it will stay this way.

And omg yes he gets so happy seeing you improve 🥺 He kind of sees himself in you. Because he had to work hard to improve his own craft. And seeing you so happy while working on your stuff makes him so happy to <3 I hc him to be really good with his hands, so he'd actually be real eager to join you with your bracelet making (he makes one for you too and you refuse to take it off)

#smooches talks #🎈 anon #pantalone love notes <3 #i love self inserters with my whole being #the way u write pantalone is so <3 i want to eat him #no LITERALLY U MAKE ME SO HAPPY TO WRITE PANTALONE #also no one knows how closed-eyed anime characters see 😭

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jrob64 · 2 years

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Sneak peek of a new story for @apiratewhopines (and whoever else wants to read it!)

Today is the birthday of one of my favorite people in the CS fandom, @apiratewhopines! I hoped to have this story finished for her and it’s very close, but I can only post the sneak peek this morning. The art and story are a result of a conversation we had about glass blowing and what it would be like to see Killian Jones in a glass hot shop. It was meant to be a short one-shot, but it’s already nearing 10,000 words! I hope you love it, my sweet friend!

Find the sneak peek under the cut.

*********

As she drove to Portland Wednesday afternoon, Emma worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She was excited but also nervous, not only about learning something new, but also about meeting the man behind the sexy voice. She had actually dreamed about him the night after their conversation on the phone, as if her subconscious was trying to put a face with the voice that was still echoing in her ears.

Parking her bug in front of the warehouse her GPS declared was her destination, she drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Then she grabbed the gift certificate off the seat, flung her car door open and stepped out.

She approached the building and pulled open the creaky metal door, looking around as she entered, but not seeing Killian Jones. Smiling at the glassblowing equipment spread around the large space, she mentally named things she recognized from watching the Netflix show and numerous YouTube videos.

Turning her attention to several blown glass pieces sitting on a table beside the door, she carefully picked up each one to study them.

“You must be Emma Swan.”

The words spoken close behind her startled her so much, she almost dropped the beautiful aqua colored bowl she was holding. Letting out a gasp, she quickly set it back on the table and turned around, saying, “Oh, I didn’t know you were…”

Her words trailed off as she got a look at her instructor. Her first thought was that her dreams of him didn’t do him justice, and her second was that his looks certainly equaled the sexiness of his voice. He appeared to be about her age, was a few inches taller than her, with dark, disheveled hair, a strong, scruff-covered jaw, piercing blue eyes and a gleaming white smile. His hands grasped both ends of a towel slung around his neck, making his biceps bulge under the sleeves of his tight, white T-shirt, the V-neck allowing her to see dark hair peeking out.

While he waited for her to speak again, he used the end of the towel to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. A few strands of hair flopped down over it once he finished and her hand inadvertently reached forward, intending to brush them away. Suddenly realizing what she was doing, she jerked her hand back and ran it through her own hair instead.

He looked at her with his head cocked and a raised eyebrow, his roguish grin convincing her he knew the effect he was having on her. She cleared her throat and said, “Uh, yeah. I’m Emma.” Holding out her hand, she added, “It’s nice to meet you, Killian.”

He took her hand, squeezing it lightly as he shook it. “Likewise. Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all. I just got here and was admiring your work,” she said, sweeping her arm toward the glass works on the table. “They’re very good.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a smile. “Hopefully, by the end of your lessons, you’ll be able to make some nice pieces, too.”

“That would be great!” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Shall we get started?” he asked.

“Oh, do you need this?” She held out the crumpled gift certificate.

“Aye,” he said, taking the paper, folding it and sticking it in his back pocket. Then he gestured for her to go ahead of him.

“You didn’t check it. Are you just gonna take my word for it that it’s worth ten lessons?” she asked teasingly.

“Well, you haven’t lied to me thus far.”

She turned to look at him over her shoulder and saw the smirk on his face. She was enjoying the banter with him and already felt at ease.

*********

Hopefully, the full story will be posted within the week. Happiest of birthdays Beth!

Tagging: @xsajx @hookedmom @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @wyntereyez @goforlaunchcee @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @enchanted-swans @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @cocohook38 @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @itsfridaysomewhere @fallingforthecaptain @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @justanother-unluckysoul @mrs-potato-but-likes-tomato @anothersworld @deckerstarblanche @purplehawkcaptain @superchocovian @k-leemac @citygirlscowboy @laughterandbooks @sotangledupinit @apiratewhopines @huntressandlioness1 @cosette141 @gingerpolyglot @motherkatereloyshipper @cs-rylie @anmylica @paradiselady19 @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @elfiola @softkilly

#csff #sneak peek #jrob64 #blow me away #a birthday story for Beth #csfanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fan fiction #ouat captain swan fanfic #cs fluff and smut

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importantchaosgiver · 1 year

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Just Like Old Times

Part 4 now. I hope you are liking this series so far.

******

Steelclaw looked at her chest-plates in the mirror of her brand new berthroom. The Decepticon insignia was plastered directly in the center, just above her spark. Knockout welded it to her plates that very same day. She also got a few upgrades. Now she carried two swords on her hip-plating, she was able to produce two smaller blades from her forearm plating (like Arcee), her board was mounted on her backstruts as well, she had a visor which snapped over the top half of her faceplate and could switch out her servos for blasters. Knockout -being the Con he is- also buffed out all of the scratches she had on her armour and gave her new coats of paint to bring out the once dull colours. That and he helped her find a vehicle mode. She chose an Audi R8. Now completely ready for her new role, she headed to Darkmount, her ears twitching and her tail swaying with every step she took. She walked straight up to the throne upon which seeing Megatron sat there. She went on one knee, putting a hand to her chest and bowing. "Steelclaw, welcome back. I hope you have everything sorted out," Megatron said as she slowly got up. "Of course, my liege," she said. "Please, we've know each other far too long for titles to matter," Megatron said dismissively. "I admit, this is a rather...... interesting change for me," Steelclaw said, looking at her shiny form. "It's something you shall get used to. Now, how good is your fighting?" Megatron asked, standing up. "Not as good as you. But I've had time to practice on Cybertron," she said. He looked at her; raising an optic ridge. "What? Just because I was neutral back then didn't mean I couldn't fight. I ended up fighting a few Eradicons because they got feisty," she said, shrugging a little. "How is your boarding?" he questioned. Steelclaw smirked, looking at him, walking backwards until she reached the edge. "Do you really need to ask?" she asked, her visor snapping into place.

Keeping the smirk on her face, she did a backflip over the edge. Megatron ran forward, jumping also and transforming mid-air. But Steelclaw, she whistled loudly and her board popped off her back-struts and attached to her peds. When she got close to the ground, she pulled up and did a few somersaults and tricks. Megatron flew alongside her, making sure she didn't hurt herself. To finish off, she launched herself high into the air, her peds detaching from the board. She did many spirals before diving back to the ground. However, as she got closer, she front flipped and landed back on her board. She skidded to a halt in front of Starscream, Shockwave, Soundwave and Knockout.

All of which were stunned. Well, Soundwave saw it before, but was still surprised despite his lack of emotion. Same with Shockwave. Steelclaw laughed loudly, hopping off her board as it popped back onto her back-struts. Megatron also transformed, laughing with her. But it wasn't an evil one. "You proved me wrong yet again, old friend," he said, a servo on her shoulder-plating. "My liege, what is this mutt doing?" Starscream asked, practically screeching off everyone's audio receptors. Megatron growled, about to give the seeker a punch. But Steelclaw put a servo on his chassis, giving him the look saying 'I'll-deal-with-this'. "Listen here, Screamer. I've known Megatron probably longer than Soundwave and if there's one thing he's taught me, is to never let insignificant, entitled pieces of scrap talk to me in such a way. I am a Wolfcon and I can and will tear you apart and distribute your limbs across the world until the Autobots find you if you call me a mutt ever again. Are. We. Clear?" Steelclaw growled, the seeker cowering beneath her rage. Everyone was amazed. Megatron looked shocked and proud, Soundwave was speechless -more than he was already- and Knockout was making notes to never get on her bad side.

Shockwave, however, didn't know what to say. He had never seen Steelclaw like that before. Her authority and dominance was attractive to say the least. On top of all that, her skill and gracefulness when on the board was enough to take his nonexistent breath away. Starscream nodded frantically as Steelclaw bared her sharp denta at him, a growl resonating in her chassis. "Great. Now, scram," she snarled. The power in her voice..... Shockwave knew then and there why he stuck by her for so long.......

#tfp starscream #tfp megatron #tfp shockwave #tfp knockout #transformers prime #original character #tfp ratchet #tfp optimus prime #autobots #decepticons

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talesfromsiteredacted · 1 year

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Well... That Escalated Quickly

It had to happen eventually. I get the SCP Gamer Squad together for a little lighthearted fun and games, only... I might have made a mistake inviting Abel. I forgot, in addition to being a walking stab dispenser, Big Brother is a sore loser. Worse, since technically he's not allowed out of his quarters, I had to set my stuff up in his place.

It's Monday night, and once again I try setting up a game night. Clef is on board, let's be honest if guns are involved so is Clef, even digital ones. 035 opted out, citing a headache. Iris is sitting in for 963, who's still in Time Out for shenanigans. I've just set up my gear in Abel's quarters, hoping I can at least convince him to hang out. We're joined on our LAN by Dr. Iceberg, whom I didn't know played. No matter. Time for some Dead By Daylight. Oh good, Iris brought pizza. I fire up my system, and get everything set up. Once I'm done, I knock on Big Brother's cubical confinement.

"Hey, Big Brother? Wanna come play some games with your kid sisters? We brought pizza. Plus... you might even be able to leave Iceberg hanging, or at least cut him down to size."

"Pizza? I am, as they say, in." The door swings open, Abel walks out. He's got some serious bed head going, and I giggle. "What is funny, Little Sister?"

"Uh, you've got seriously messy hair, bro. Let's fix that." I sit him down, brush through his curls. Before long, I've sorted his ginormous bird nest. I'm finishing up his plait while Iris brings over a plate laden with pizza.

"Thank you, Iris. What is tonight's game?"

"Beats me, Abel. Ask Gamemistress Rabbit there, it's her rig."

"I was thinking Dead by Daylight at first, but I'm feeling a bit more like Among Us. Kinda want to stab Clef in the back, but I can do that in any game really. It's just funnier to me in that game. Maybe it's the bean bag avatars?"

"Definitely the beanies, Sis. They're too cute to be so sus." We log into chat.

"Hi gang. Gamemistress Rabbit here. Iris is too, and we have a special guest tonight... give a big SCP Gamer Squad welcome to everybody's favorite nigh unstoppable swordsman, The Semetic Nightmare himself... our very own SCP 076-2, Abel! Say hello Big Brother."

"Er... hello? Is this thing on?"

"Abel... games? It's too late to back out, isn't it?" Iceberg actually sounds nervous.

"What up, big guy? Don't worry, this lobby is guaranteed 963 free. Shaw can't hack for shit. We're clear there." Not surprised Clef is chill, not much worries him excluding his ex.

"Good to know. Shall we begin?" Everybody agrees.

"Tonight's game is... Among Us! So, pick your avatars, and let's get at it. There will be a short break to explain the game to our new player, of course." Iris is already telling Abel how everything works. He's even chosen his avatar. To everyone's surprise, he's... purple. Unexpected, but... purple dye used to be really expensive. I can buy that excuse. Iris picks blue, I'm green, Iceberg is yellow for some reason, Clef is red, and our mystery plus one picks black.

"Hey, Rabbit. Real quick, hope you don't mind, I brought a guest of my own. Sort of. Say howdy, 049!"

"Hello, my dear. I look forward to playing. I do hope it's all right I join in, I might have let it slip I was curious as to why Clef had a laptop instead of a ukulele."

"More than all right, I must confess I was going to ask you, but Clef beat me to it. I think I owe our colleague some decent coffee tomorrow."

"We're set here. Ready?"

"Okay. Iris, would you kindly help me keep the bucket of bolts in one piece, or close enough? Everybody else, find the murderer, and provide the proof, you'll win the game, plus a nifty prize. Here we go, folks... good night and good luck."

The game plays out, and to no one's surprise... Dr. Iceberg is out. My Doctor found the body. Meanwhile, I'm trying to keep the life support on, with Iris watching my back. We see Clef run by in a hurry.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. He's mad. Shit!"

In the room, Iris and I look at each other and laugh. It's not Abel chasing Clef... nope. My Doctor is trying to lobotomize him with a power drill.

"Come back, I am only trying to cure you. Why do they always run?" Meanwhile, Abel sneaks up on me, undoes my hard work, then... shoves me out of the airlock. Iris follows me, yeeted out like a sack of trash into the incinerator.

I mute my mic, look him in the eye. "You jerk!" And he laughs. Before long, it's only him standing. He hit Clef with a welding tank. 049 got stabbed and shoved out of the airlock. Not bad for a noob.

"I won this round. Next game?"

"Let's play something else. Oh! Got it... anyone up for CS:GO?"

"Too rough for a noob. Stick to Call of Duty or something."

"Or... we could play my modded up version of Left 4 Dead 2, whatever."

"I think I'll sit out that one. Dyo told me about it, he said the tank mod was... unexpected."

"Fine, Modern Warfare 2 it is. We all a squad, or we flying solo here?"

"Squad. I do not want Abel knifing me because I look like just enough xp."

"I must agree, reluctantly. Especially after the last game. Has anyone seen Dr. Iceberg?"

"Wow, that first kill hit so hard it booted him off the server. Note to self: do not mess with Abel." Iris looks at our big brother. "Honestly, that was worth the unexpected spacewalk last game. Well done, Big Brother."

#scp foundation #tales from site redacted #agent rabbit #dr clef #scp 049 #scp 105 #scp 076 2 #game nights at site redacted are wild

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stxrscrge · 2 years

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Thinking about an… Age of Redmanes ending that I saw on someone’s post somewhere, but of course, this is with my own little twist.

To initiate the quest you’d have to find your way to Salvius at Redmane Castle, probably situated on a lookout tower that require climbing up an otherwise very missable ladder. Just like Tanith’s Knight, he’s standing at attention when you find him, a silent sentry until you try to speak to him: “What is your business here, Tarnished Warrior?”

��Oh, here for the festival? It is not due to start just yet.”

New dialogue unlocks for him once you obtain the Dectus medallion, which calls the start of the festival. Speaking to him before initiating Radahn’s fight has him giving you another piece of the clue needed to continue down this questline. “The moon rises high in the sky, heralding the start of the Festival. If you wish to challenge General Radahn, I shan’t stop you, but know this… it is a task almost impossible, I’ve sought to do so before but if you somehow accomplish this, you will have my eternal gratitude.”

“Somewhere in this blighted land is a golden needle, one that when used will cure the curse of the Scarlet Rot. Radahn may have been reduced to a raving beast, but I believe he could still be saved if you somehow find the artifact and bring it to me.” The needle, of course, would have been held by commander O’Neil in the swamps of Aeonia. Slaying O’Neil obtains the needle, though still would be broken (therefore you have a choice to follow through Millicent’s questline and his questline at the same time). You have a choice to bring the mended golden needle to Salvius, shutting you out of Millicent’s questline, or you can follow through with hers, then take the golden needle from finishing her questline to him.

Killing Radahn at any point during this part of the questline fails the quest.

Upon giving the needle to Salvius, he thanks you: “Is that… The golden needle of Miquella? You have my infinite thanks, Tarnished.” As a reward, he teaches you “Aspects of the Crucible: Wings” incantation, allowing you to call upon the wings used by the Crucible Knights and “Aspects of the Crucible: Earthshaker”, the short earthquake stomp used by the Crucible Knights. Now, initiating the Starscourge Radahn boss fight allows Salvius to join you as a summon, wielding all the same weapons used by the Crucible Knight enemies. However, instead of Radahn dying once his health is reduced down to none, a cutscene plays where he falls from Leonard’s back, tumbling as he tries to hit you with his swords again until Salvius comes up behind him, jabbing the needle into his upper arm as the cutscene fades out.

It should be noted that this is counted as the festival being inactive due to how long the time has passed, which means the other NPCs normally found here will not be present. Radahn’s attention will be mostly focused on you, barely responding to Salvius’ presence.

Once loading back into Radahn’s arena, Salvius will be waiting for you:

“Once again, you have my gratitude, Tarnished. You bringing back the needle has allowed us to quell the Scarlet Rot blighting my dear General. He is resting now, but he wishes to see you at the plaza once you have a moment.”

“The curse of Caelid remains still, but with dear Radahn back with us, we shall be able to make the first step to correct the wrongs done to the land. If you wish to, I will grant you the rank of a Redmane Knight, you will be allowed to traverse through this castle unbothered by all.” Answering yes has you kneeling at Salvius’ feet as he draws his greatsword in a classical knighting ceremony, dubbing you a warrior of Redmane. As a result, now the Redmane Knights will now be nonhostile towards you, but attacking one of them when within Redmane territory (the Castle, primarily) will make them hostile again. Salvius will also become a merchant for you in the Redmane Castle plaza, selling you items like Radahn’s arrows (instead of Radahn’s spears), various types of greatarrows, Crucible Axe set, Crucible Horn Shield and Ordovis’ Greatsword, as well as all of the Crucible talismans.

Returning to Redmane Castle plaza at some point will grant you audience with General Radahn, now fully lucid and grateful for your help: “You must be the Tarnished one that Salvius spoke of, thank you for saving me and fighting through impossible odds. You truly have the spirit of a Redmane Knight.” Possessing Knight Ogha’s ashes during this time unlocks a special line of dialogue from Radahn:

“Is that… Ogha, with you? He is, was my oldest friend, a great warrior and a great man. I hope you will continue carrying on his legacy.” Answering with a promise to do so grants you the option to visit Ogha’s old quarters at Redmane, which is seemingly just an empty room until you summons Ogha’s spirit, who will walk towards a wall to hang up his greatbow. Breaking the illusionary wall with weapons will reveal a chest, containing the Legendary Weapon “Ogha’s Black Iron Greatbow”. Using it with Radahn’s arrows gives it a damage buff.

At any point, going back to Radahn has him giving you the reason why he launched an attack on Leyndell, which is that he wished to take the throne as the new Elden Lord: “I look back now and realize just how foolish I was, to think that I would be capable of taking the throne without paving the path with corpses. What I subjected my soldiers to as a result of this war, I will never be able to forget it.”

“If you wish to take the throne as the next Elden Lord, I will not stop you, and know that the Redmane army rallies behind you.” Technically, you could stop right here and continue on with all of your other questlines with no more attention paid to Radahn’s side. However, speaking to Knight Salvius now will continue the questline:

“Oh hello, I am glad to see you safe, my friend. As you may know, the needle itself will not completely cure the Rot, I fear if anyone is to remove the needle, they would doom sweet Radahn again. Though… I did hear that to the north lies the forge of the Giants, where a forgotten book written by their followers contains secrets of the flame that they wield. If I have my hands on the book, then perhaps I will be able to completely cure the Rot.”

This time, obtaining the Giant’s Prayerbook will grant you an extra incantation: “Cleansing by Fire”. However, learning the incantation yourself via giving the prayerbook to Miriel or Corhyn will not work, bring the book back to Salvius is required for the questline to continue its progression, and “Cleansing by Fire” will not be available for purchase from Salvius’ inventory as the rest of the incantations will be. Reloading the area or passing time will cause Radahn to appear in his throne in the plaza, from which point onward he will become a merchant himself, teaching you several gravity spells previously only seen in Radahn’s boss fight.

Now any time you travel within Redmane Castle territory, arrows will rain from the castle on the mobs of Caelid at random intervals, the usage of Radahn’s arrows indicating the General’s presence. The plaza also serves to become a secondary hub for you, as a smithing table will appear that allows for the strengthening of weapons and weapon racks for purchasing ammunition such as arrows.

Crucible Knight Salvius also becomes an available summon for both Godfrey, the First Elden Lord/Hoarah Loux, and Radagon of the Golden Order/Elden Beast, with Starscourge Radahn being a bonus summon who arrives during the Elden Beast fight. Upon defeating the elden beast, setting Marika’s head back onto her body causes it to crumble, playing a cutscene where you walk back out of the Erdtree to the gathered crowd of Redmane Knights… and General Radahn as well as Salvius.

“You have done the impossible and defeated my father, claiming the throne of the Elden Lord. I am not surprised at your tenacity but applaud you regardless.”

“Hail, to our new Elden Lord.” Your Tarnished glances around, marveling at their newfound family, and perhaps… at the new age that shall now begin, the Age of the Redmanes.

#⟪ ooc ⟫ → ❝ james’ random thoughts ❞#⟪ mun writes ⟫ → ❝ i drink and i write things ❞

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god-whispers · 2 years

Text

sep 4

when you think of me - part 2

where we left it: i sat amazed. my homeless friend was not homeless. he was on a mission and lived this way by choice. the question burned inside for a moment and then i asked: “what’s it like?"

“what?”

“to walk into a town carrying all your things on your back and to show your sign?”

“oh, it was humiliating at first. people would stare and make comments. once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a gesture that certainly didn’t make me feel welcome. but then it became humbling to realize that God was using me to touch lives and change people’s concepts of other folks like me.”

my concept was changing too. we finished our dessert and gathered his things. just outside the door, he paused. he turned to me and said, “come ye blessed of my Father and inherit the kingdom i’ve prepared for you. for when i was hungry you gave me food, when i was thirsty you gave me drink, a stranger and you took me in.”

i felt as if we were on holy ground. “could you use another bible?” i asked.

he said he preferred a certain translation. it traveled well and was not too heavy. it was also his personal favorite. “i’ve read through it 14 times,” he said. “i’m not sure we’ve got one of those, but let’s stop by our church and see.” i was able to find my new friend a bible that would do well, and he seemed very grateful.

“where are you headed from here?”

“well, i found this little map on the back of this amusement park coupon.”

“are you hoping to hire on there for awhile?”

“no, i just figure i should go there. i figure someone under that star right there needs a Bible, so that’s where i’m going next.”

he smiled, and the warmth of his spirit radiated the sincerity of his mission. i drove him back to the town-square where we’d met two hours earlier, and as we drove, it started raining. we parked and unloaded his things.

“would you sign my autograph book?” he asked. “i like to keep messages from folks i meet.”

i wrote in his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched my life. i encouraged him to stay strong. and i left him with a verse of scripture from Jeremiah, “i know the plans i have for you," declared the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you. plans to give you a Future and a hope.”

“yhanks, man,” he said. “i know we just met and we’re really just strangers, but i love you.”

“i know,” i said, “i love you, too.”

“the Lord is good!”

"yes, He is." "how long has it been since someone hugged you?” i asked.

“a long time,” he replied.

and so on the busy street corner in the drizzling rain, my new friend and i embraced, and i felt deep inside that i had been changed. he put his things on his back, smiled his winning smile and said, “see you in the new jerusalem.”

“i’ll be there!” was my reply.

he began his journey again. he headed away with his sign dangling from his bedroll and pack of Bibles. he stopped, turned and said, “when you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?”

“you bet,” i shouted back, “God bless.”

“God bless.” and that was the last i saw of him.

late that evening as i left my office, the wind blew strong. the cold front had settled hard upon the town. i bundled up and hurried to my car. as i sat back and reached for the emergency brake, i saw them ... a pair of well-worn brown work gloves neatly laid over the length of the handle. i picked them up and thought of my friend and wondered if his hands would stay warm that night without them.

then i remembered his words: “if you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?”

today his gloves lie on my desk in my office. they help me to see the world and its people in a new way, and they help me remember those two hours with my unique friend and to pray for his ministry.

“see you in the new jerusalem,” he said. yes, daniel, i know i will ...

----

“i shall pass this way but once. therefore, any good that i can do or any kindness that i can show, let me do it now, for i shall not pass this way again.”

if this story touched you, share it with a friend! God bless you, and have a nice day!

— author unknown

-------

when you think of Jesus will you stop and pray? not for Jesus - for those He loves and cherishes so dearly.

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asoulofatlantis · 5 months

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Oh don't worry. She likes him.

(I had a hard time deciding if I start a new big sims brother Project in Sims 4 or if I finish at least Timber in FF8, but as you can see, I decided to get that ridicioulus Train-Mission done and over with as fast as possible. So... which me luck! XD)

Urg. I can not belive the bullshit they pulled. And we are in the middle of this bullshit. ALSO this looks way more complicated than it is. The first time I played this game I was totally overwhelmed by all this and fucked it up out of cheer and nervousness because it looked so complicated. The only real troublesome part is the Uncoupleling because they quickly give you a number and you have to remember it while also watching out for Guards. And even that isn't too hard either, its just... tedious ^^'

In my experience the guards hardly ever notice you no matter what you do, since their range is so darn small, but... I guess this is just the game making it sound more complicated then it actually is.

You would not find bullshit like this in a modern Final Fantasy game - I say that, but remember the dancing minigame with Cloud in FF7R? ^^'

Right? Its embarrassing to be part of this.

If you think I miss out on giving Rinoa a piece of my mind, then you are wrong. I gladly give her some of Squall's cold, rational and absolutely right harsh words. MUHAHAHAH!

I guess the reason why Rinoa truly wanted Seifer there weren't her feelings for him, but the fact that she knew he would do whatever she wants whenever she wants it. He does this here for her. Rushing in on the president without a second thought and disregarding what would happen if he threatened the president live on TV. That is how far he would go for her, no matter how stupid her plans. In the meantime, Squall told Rinoa that the way they operate, they can hardly take Rinoas Little Organisation seriously and that he only does what she wants because it is his job. Rinoa wanted a bunch of friends who helped them because they believed in her values and dreams, Seifer would have done that... that and obviously a lot more - too much in fact, because what he does here, was what Rinoa had backed out from.

Why she was talking to him like he was a lost little boy was a mystery at first, until you find out who she really is.

I once accidentally did not get out of the train at the right stop... it was quite the footwalk I tell you XD

To be fair, if they had imprisoned Seifer, they would have found out where he came from one way or another anyway...

Its time to play that "moron" again that Squall got his rather prominent cheekbones from XD

We are currently at the Lunatic Pandora and as we have to return to this thing later in the game, it might be wise to somewhat memories the layout a bit - and I wish someone had told me that back in the day when I was playing this game for the first time XD

First of all: It was your idea! And secondly... you basically pushed them XD

Works for me. This is my favored team anyway XD

This is a bad too much, don't you think Selphie? Also... I think Irving is enjoying this way much than Cloud ever did. (Seriously, I feel like that idiot Cloud never noticed what a lucky bastard he is XD)

A perfect walkthrough made it possible to get the brothers GF out iof that godforsaken tomb - I think this is only my second time to get them, the first time was just luck as I have played the game multiple times at this point, its almost emberassing to admit that ^^'

Aaaaaaanyway... that shall be it for today. The end of the first Disk is near tho.

#ff8 mona version

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awlfan · 5 months

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Better Knowing the Valley- Daryl

It had been a little over a week since Melody had visited the eccentric scientist. While he didn’t come off as overly warm or friendly, the farmer still found herself curious about the man. She wanted to visit him again sooner, but she didn’t want to return to him empty handed. She had told him she would bring him something proper to eat once her kitchen was properly stocked. Well, her kitchen was properly stocked now and she’d prepared an actual meal. As she arrived at Daryl’s lab, she recalled how hard it was to get his attention last time and made sure to knock loudly this time around. The scientist started at the sudden sound, displeased to have his sense of flow interrupted. “What is it?!” the scientist sneered as he opened the door, but upon realizing the visitor was the one who’d fed him previously, his expression softened a bit. “Oh. It’s you.” “Melody,” the farmer reminded with a nod. “I told you I would cook you something better once my kitchen was in order.” Melody smiled as she handed him a plastic container. Daryl raised a brow and took the container, noting it was quite warm to the touch. She must have made it fresh for him.

“What is it?” he asked, gripping the lid and preparing to open it. “They’re chicken and vegetable stuffed dumplings,” she chirped. “I hope you’ll like them.” “That sounds… very favorable.” Daryl informed before he opened the lid to look inside. “They look well made. I’ll accept it.” “I’m glad. So, do you have any new experiments you want to talk about?” “…” Daryl was quite surprised she’d asked him this. After her abrupt departure previously, he’d assumed she had lost interest. “I do… Would you like to listen?” “Oo, yes, please!” Melody nodded. “Well… come inside and we shall discuss it.” The scientist opened the door wider and stepped aside to allow the other to enter. “Thank you,” Melody smiled and stepped inside. “Do not touch anything,” Daryl was quick to demand. “I won’t,” Melody assured, holding her hands behind her back. “Good,” Daryl replied, feeling more at ease to see that Melody wouldn’t be touching anything. “So, what have you been working on?” Melody asked. “I’ve been studying lightning. I am hoping to detect and attract lightning strikes whilst storing and utilizing the energy it generates,” he informed as he grabbed a fork and sat down at his little dining table. “This smells quite good.” Melody grinned. “I hope it tastes as good as it smells to you. I liked them, but I don’t know your preferences.” Daryl said nothing, instead cutting off a piece of dumpling with his fork. Placing it in his mouth, he let out a pleased hum. “Tastes as good as it smells, huh?” Melody asked with the slightest of smirks. “It does. It seems you are a competent cook.” “Thanks… If you’d rather eat first, I can come back later?” “No,” the scientist responded as he took another bite. “I can eat and discuss my work at the same time.” “Fair enough,” Melody replied with a shrug. It seemed he did indeed enjoy having someone to listen to him. Daryl was quick to begin his scientific rambling, taking bites of his meal and occasionally speaking with his mouth full. Even with his talking in between, it did not take him long to finish his meal. ‘He must really have liked it,’ Melody thought to herself as Daryl continued to discuss his findings. While Melody usually listened quietly, upon his discussion of storm clouds, she decided to chime in. “Those are… Cumulonimbus clouds, right?” Daryl blinked, a bit surprised, and nodded. “Yes. How did you know?” “Oh,” Melody chuckled weakly. “It’s kind of a dumb story…” “Learning is never dumb,” Daryl assured.

“Well…” Melody paused, wondering if she should really tell this story. “Back when I was a kid, like a little kid, I used to think those big cooling towers were cloud factories. You know, since they billowed those big big puffs of white water vapor into the sky. Anyway, I asked my dad how those cloud factories could fill the entire sky when there weren’t very many of them. It wasn’t long after that Dad took me to the library and checked out a book on clouds for me to read… I loved that book and made Dad check it out again over and over… So I kind of have that information embedded in the back of my head.” Daryl, despite himself, had begun to chuckle. “Cloud factories?” “Hey,” Melody huffed, “I said I was just a little kid at the time!” Unable to help himself. Daryl couldn’t stop chuckling. He hadn’t intended to do so and there was no malice behind it, but he was genuinely amused. Melody had since gone a bit red in the face, feeling both embarrassed and a little frustrated. “And I suppose you’ve always been smart?” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t say I was,” Daryl admitted. “I did learn quickly for my age range from the beginning, but I did hit a plateau of sorts in high school. The… stresses of the environment inhibited my ability to learn as quickly.” “Oog, high school,” Melody rubbed her temple. “You mean hell on earth?” “I take it you weren’t fond of it either.” “Not one bit,” she sighed. “Autism and high school was simply not a good combination.” “What do you mean?” Daryl asked, a bit confused. “I’m autistic, so socialization has never been my strong suit. Students bullied me, teachers didn’t understand me, and so many people in one place was just overwhelming for me.” “Oh… That is not unlike my own experiences.” Daryl frowned. “I know of autism, but I’ve never particularly studied it and I haven’t met another person with the condition before.” “Are you sure?” Melody asked. Daryl looked at her with a raised brow. “I mean… It’s not always obvious when someone has autism. They don’t always announce it and it can go undiagnosed quite often, especially with girls. Also, some people are good at masking their symptoms just to get by in an unaccepting world.” “I see.” “Hey,” Melody began tentatively, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you show symptoms of autism yourself.” Though he had been told not to, Daryl found himself somewhat offended. He remembered the uproar his mother once had at the notion when an old teacher had suggested it and didn’t want to be part of something so apparently negative.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a slight sneer. While Melody did wilt at his expression, she continued. “Well, for one thing, when you talk about your experiments and theories, you become so excited and chatty. You go into a great deal of detail about every aspect and you just remind me of me when someone asks about one of my special interests. You also seem to speak a little differently than most. You seem quite blunt and straight to the point when you talk. There is no beating around the bush or sugar coating for you.” “Of course I get to the point,” Daryl scoffed. “What is the point of prolonging my statements with unnecessary filler?” “I know!” Melody exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s so dumb that people expect you to draw out what you say all the time! We’re talking, not writing poetry! Get to the point!” Daryl simply stared for a moment, taken aback to see another person relate to him in such a way. “...You said you yourself have autism?” he asked. “Yes,” she nodded. “I was diagnosed pretty early on.” “And I share traits with you?” he continued. “You do,” she smiled softly. Daryl slowly nodded to himself. “I may have to investigate this farther.” “I’d actually encourage that,” Melody chirped. “I have some books about autism if you’d like to borrow them. I’ve already read them multiple times, so you can keep them as long as you need. Even if you don’t have autism yourself, you might be able to relate to our experiences and, if not, it’s just nice to learn new things. I bet someone like you can really appreciate that.” “I do,” the scientist agreed. “Do you recommend I read the books in any particular order?” “I think you can read them in any order, but I think covering the very basics first would be the wisest choice,” she nodded. “Oh,” Melody continued, “Thanks for actually taking this into consideration.. There are people who act like autism is the worst condition someone can be afflicted with and that it is the worst of insults.” Daryl averted his gaze, having felt similarly moments before, but kept this thought to himself. “If you have autism, it surely can not be bad warranted to use as an insult.” “Oh, gosh,” Melody began to lightly blush. “Plenty of people think I’m no good.” “They sound very illogical. You have only proven to be pleasant company for me thus far.”

“Aww, thank you,” she looked away sheepishly, going a deeper red. “I enjoy being around you too.” The scientist seemed to freeze. “...What?” “I-I just meant I enjoy your company. You’re fascinating to listen to and you’ve been nice enough to talk to me.” “Oh,” Daryl pushed his glasses upwards into his face. “That is-” He paused upon realizing he could not think of a thing to say. How strange for him… “Are you alright?” Melody broke the silence. “I’m fine,” Daryl responded swiftly, pushing his glasses up once more. “Just making sure,” the farmer explained. “You seemed a little flustered and I was worried I’d embarrassed you.” The scientist bristled at this comment, going red in the face as he glared daggers at the woman. “I am a logical man. I do not fluster.” He was… clearly flustered… but Melody thought it best not to confront him on it. “Of course not.” Wanting to alleviate the tension in the air, she thought on a subject change. “Do you have a favorite food?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Melody slapped herself on the forehead. ‘What a generic thing to ask,’ she thought to herself. Daryl, meanwhile, thought nothing of her question and answered her simply. “Yes. I have a fondness for fish. I enjoy it in many dishes, but have a particular fondness for sushi and tempura.” “Oh, those sound goooood.” Melody grinned. “Fish is such a good protein to work with! I like it too. I try to eat pretty healthy, but I do have a soft spot for sweets.” “I enjoy dark chocolate on occasion. Sometimes coating fruit.” “I prefer milk and white chocolate myself because they’re so much sweeter. It’s good you like dark chocolate though. It’s better for you. High in antioxidants and all that.”

“Precisely,” Daryl nodded. “Though I do like less healthy sweets as well.” “Like what?” Melody asked. “Baked goods and hard candies. Hard candy is particularly preferable as they last longer and therefor reduce the amount of sugar you ingest and price paid.” “What’s your favorite candy flavor?” “I prefer grape, but cherry is a close second.” “I love blue raspberry, but green apple is good too.” Melody paused. “I like green apples in general… Most apples, really. I actually have a few saplings on the farm.” “They should grow quickly,” Daryl informed. “There is something about Forgotten Valley that allows crops to grow quite rapidly when compared to other areas.” “Takakura told me about that. I wonder why that is.” “It is rumored there are magical creatures in the valley, but I am certain there is a scientific explanation behind it.” “Haaaa… Yeah. It’s definitely scientific,” Melody replied, neglecting to mention she’d actually met the Nature Sprites of Forgotten Valley. “Most things are,” Daryl added. “That’s why science is such an important subject.” Melody simply nodded before a long silence befell them. “...I’m not sure where to go with this conversation,” she remarked, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t either,” Daryl admitted. “Maybe we should call it a day here.” Melody suggested with a nervous chuckle. “See you again another time?” “I would not mind that.” Melody offered one last smile before making her way to the door. “Bye, Daryl! Thanks for spending time with me today!” The scientist simply nodded in goodbye, wondering why he’d found her company so pleasant today. Curious.

#harvest moon #story of seasons #a wonderful life #daryl #harvest moon daryl #story of seasons daryl #a wonderful life daryl #fan fiction

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changingplumbob · 7 months

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Chopra Household: Chapter 3, Part 5

The twin infants are working on their milestones!

My favourite part of Rahul being a gardener is how easy it is for him to work from home.

Cluckton: *clucks*

Rahul: Oh hey buddy, I'm just writing a scientific paper

Cluckton: *clucks*

Rahul: Because the boss wants me to

He also needs to work on his herbalism so brews up some herbal remedies.

Cassandra: Mama has to go to work today

Mercedes: *coos*

Cassandra: Coo to you to. Shall we do something fun before I go

Mercedes: *laughs*

Cassandra: Okay, here we go

Cassandra helps Mercedes balance and practice standing for about an hour. No new milestones but a giggling Mercedes has fun.

With Cassandra at work Rahul works out with the TV, can't go for a run and leave the infants alone. Savannah is scared by the loud noises and crawls over to Mercedes for some sisterly comfort. The two babble and coo until both happily blow raspberrys at the loud TV.

Rahul tries his best alone at twin dinner time. Savannah tries the oaty o's, she dislikes them. Full of anger she tosses the plate away. Rahul gives her some peanut butter puffs. Turns out she dislkies them and that plate also goes flying. So much for having the Good Appetite quirk Savannah!

While her sister is having a go being the dramatic one, Mercedes is pleased to see Cluckton enter the lounge. She coos to him and he happily clucks back, appreciating her smiles. I don't know why she is taking so long to babble, guess she's just her unique self.

Rahul gives up on new food and gives both girls the finger food they like. It doesn't fill them up much so they also get bottles. Cassandra has finished pumping so we have limited stock before we're back to formula. At bedtime Mercedes reclaims the drama queen mantle, taking forever to fall asleep.

Rahul returns to the puzzle, it would help if he held the piece with the art side up. Cassandra gets back from work happy to have had time getting lost in her music. Rahul begins to flirt up a storm and Cassandra is awake enough to notice. With both girls sleeping they have time to woohoo before bed

Friday gets off to a great start. By which I mean Mercedes manages to pee on Rahul during the diaper change. When both twins are dressed and ready for the day they have another round of babbling and cooing. Savannah learns how to wave and Mercedes manages to start babbling to the world! Success!

While Savannah happily plays with her toys Cassandra tries once again to help Mercedes stand. Turns out she wants to use the chair so I go into BB mode and untuck it for her. Milestone sparkles start and with an adorable heave Mercedes manages to pull herself up to a standing position. Well done!

Mercedes gets another nap in her mamas arms. It seems Cassandra is stuck as during this she can't call anyone on the phone or talk to Rahul which seems pretty stupid. Before I know it it's time for the girls to have dinner, baths and head to their cribs. Cassandra gives both a bedtime story.

Another chick hatched yesterday. This one is a hen dubbed Snuggles. Rahul takes time to congratulate Mrs Feather and Mr Cluckton on their abundance of chicks, another hatchable egg is almost ready. Finding Snuggles out in the rain in the dark he sternly sends her to the coop, no sick chickens here.

Cassandra goes to help the latest coop member hatch. With a flurry of small feathers another baby hen pops out. Cassandra cuddles the new arrival before putting it back in the safety of the coop. It will get named next rotation, for now it needs to sleep.

Rahul: I'm so close to finishing

Cassandra: Can I help

Rahul: Go for it

Cassandra: What's this one

Rahul: Feathered friends. I was hoping it would be chickens

Cassandra: These are cute to

Rahul: Probably foreshadowing My First Bird Stuff

Cassandra: Don't put that out there

Rahul: Last piece, done

With the puzzle finished the Chopra round is done. I definitely wrote more than I intended but these two infants are so cute I couldn't help myself. Now they can both babble I'll have them speak more next time. I'm happy they're already feeling like individuals thanks to their different quirks.

Previous Part ... Next Part (Goth)

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #the sims #rotation6 #SavannahChopra #CassandraChopra #RahulChopra #MercedesChopra #ChopraHousehold #R0606

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jbreenr · 3 years

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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have.

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request.

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were.

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence.

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse.

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen.

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone.

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through.

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen…

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to.

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing.

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours.

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then.

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him.

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud.

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears.

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention.

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer.

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.

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sunder-soul · 3 years

Text

PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap.

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

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