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anim-ttrpgs · 2 days ago

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I want to provide an example of a dungeon crawl for the people who have only been exposed to dungeon crawling through shitty D&D5e modules or bad games of telephone about what classic dungeon crawling looks like.

I’m gonna try not to go into too much detail just because if I do, I’ll be here all day and night because this campaign is so good and all of the characters have so much depth but I still have to give context. (welp, i made it pretty fucking long anyway, but I think it paints a clearer picture that way.)

This is an mildly homebrewed* AD&D2e “troupe campaign” with rotating DMs starring a fictional band of mercenaries called the White Company(not to be confused with the actual White Company or the other fictional White Company) in an alternate history 1390s-1430s England with elves and wizards and shit. I’m really getting to put my Masters in medieval history and culture to good use for once. There’s a rotating cast of characters, as parties are formed from the larger pool of characters in the White Company to undertake mercenary jobs.

*one of the biggest homebrew rules we use is that there is no magical resurrection. Instead of dying instantly with the expectation that they can be magically revived later, characters who fall to 0 HP must receive medical attention from somebody who has the Healing skill immediately, and make a Constitution-based roll to see if they can pull through. If they don’t die, they still permanently lose 1 point of Constitution and must spend weeks or months recovering before they can fight again.

This is happening in a real 1979 D&D adventure module, adapted slightly to fit our setting, but it’s still genuine classic dungeon crawling. The DM is sticking closely to it and just presenting the sandbox for the PCs to do stuff in.

TL;DR: (also spoilers. Skip the TL;DR if you want to read this as a narrative without knowing what happens)

A classic dungeon crawl is not just a dull slog through a bunch of rooms full of monsters and back-to-back boring slap-fight combat. One may encounter:

>yes, monsters, definitely. Some will be out in the open, some will ambush the party, and some will be easy to ambush by the party, but rarely is fighting and killing them the only option. Combat happens either when the party screws up, or when they initiate it on their own terms.

>other adventurers looting the same dungeon

>hidden treasure

>monsters that are basically a trap and puzzle themselves and can’t be fought by just making attack rolls at them

>monsters that can be talked to and negotiated with

>environmental storytelling that can also be hints about hidden traps, monsters, etc.

>boobytraps

>secret doors

>plenty of moments for the characters' personalities to shine

(END OF SPOILERS)

The White Company is currently under the employ of a certain castillan who is having to fight against a pretender to his claims to his lands. The lord that this castellan owes fielty has noticed that a certain village has stopped paying their taxes, and asked the castellan to deal with it. The castellan told the White Company, currently on his payroll, and the White Company sent a small group of mercenaries to either investigate or rough the peasants up until they pay. (Medieval mercenaries nor classic D&D adventurers were exactly heroes. Members of the White Company have engaged in some real moving acts of heroism in this campaign but that’s a different story.)

The White Company party consisted of 8 PCs, because AD&D expects bigass parties. We‘ve had parties of up to 13 PCs before in this campaign, because this is before D&D got embarrassed about its wargaming ancestry. This might sound scary but honestly AD&D2e does not make it hard for a player to play multiple characters at once. It’s expected.

Anyway, they passed a ransacked wagon on the road while traveling to the village. When they got to the village, everything was just fine, no great plumes of smoke or burninated peasants. So they asked the village headman what the deal was, and he was like “What do you mean? We sent the taxes last week.”

Well, that was the ransacked wagon. Here I’m going to start really fast-forwarding.

The White Company mercs did some investigating and found out who sacked the wagon, kicked their asses and ran them off, and discovered just the slightest hint that there was more to this story..

More investigation, a discovery that there’s a greater conspiracy afoot, a fight with two spies that left Elora the Elf bedridden under the care of the local barber-surgeon after getting stabbed in the gut(one party member down.)

Fast-forwarding more. They discover that the old abandoned fort that’s full of monsters is actually where a contingent of the bad guys have made their forward operating base. This abandoned castle is supposedly full of monsters ever since the calamity that made everything full of monsters but that’s another story too. God I’m bad at brief stories. Anyway the bad guys have some tricks for avoiding the monsters on their way in and out apparently.

So, it’s time for the White Company to assault that abandoned castle. That’s a dungeon, and now it’s dungeon crawling time. Using a huge amount of money they found during the investigation, they subcontract some more mercenaries, a party from the Badger Company, and also convince the village headman to levy some peasant militiamen.

Now the party is 24-strong, almost half of that being archers.

I’m fast-forwarding some more. They had a little.. incident where they ran into a group of adventurers trying to loot the place, mistook them for the bad guys, and shot two of them with crossbow bolts. Luckily, and due to the medical skills of some of the party, those two survived, but one of them will be on crutches for a while. After that embarrassing misunderstanding, they find the way down into the lower floors of the castle, but before they go, they want to make sure there’s no chance of anything coming behind them, so they investigate every room on the upper floor. Ordinarily, going around provoking everything in a dungeon and having back-to-back combat encounters would be inadvisable, but they’re 24 men strong. They find a room full of giant rats and shoot them to death with crossbow bolts. They find a giant lizard thing asleep on a rock and shoot it to death with crossbow bolts. They find a giant snake in its nest and shoot it to death with crossbow bolts. Then a giant tick drops from the ceiling and bites into Abigail, the youngest White Company member present, right through her mail armor. They stab it to death but its sucker thing is buried deep in there and they can’t just pull it out because it’s got barbs. She was at very low HP after the initial bite and just ripping the thing out could easily nick the artery and kill her. Luckily, Herr Rike(Fighter-Thief) and all around unpleasant woman, is also a barber-surgeon, and several of the spellcasters can provide a limited amount of magical healing. She had to strip down while the men averted their eyes and stood watch. While Abigail, teary-eyed, bit down on the shaft of a crossbow bolt, Rike was able to carefully cut the thing out of her, with magical healing coming right after to ensure that this doesn’t, well, completely disable the use of her arm. After a few moments of recovery (accelerated by the magic), Abigail got dressed again, and soon had the gruff men of the Badger Company clapping her on the back and congratulating her for making it through that. “We’ve all been there!” “Yer a real mercenary now!” “That’ll put some hair on yer chest, figuratively!”

(I’m making sure to include all this stuff in detail to dispel the myth that “dungeon crawling means no roleplaying.” That part kinda was “back-to-back combat” but only because the party went out of their way to find every monster, all of which could’ve been avoided otherwise.)

Each of these encounters lasted like 1 combat round and less than 15 minutes of real time even with that many characters, because AD&D2e combat doesn’t fucking suck.

There was some treasure to find too, pretty valuable stuff, but for the sake of this not being even more overly long the only thing I’m going to mention is a large jug of lamp oil.

Descending the stairs, a man and woman of the Badger Company were suddenly dropped down on by two acidic green slimes. The party quickly discovered that these could not be conventionally attacked, especially not while they’re clinging to the distressed Badger Company members. Slicing and stabbing the slimes with swords does nothing obviously, and risks further injuring their allies.

Thinking quickly, Abigail has the idea to try scraping and shoveling the slime off with her shield, which kind of works, and everyone with a shield follows suit. The slimed Badger Company mercs survive, managing to avoid total disfigurement too, but are in no condition to continue. Their armor and helmets and weapons have been ruined by the acid and they’ve lost a lot of skin. Everyone whose shield was used to shovel off the slime also lost their shields as the acid ruined them.

The man and woman that got slimed had to go up stairs and wait for the return of the larger group, it was a really good thing that the party checked every corner of the upper floor and killed anything that could be a danger to two unarmed and critically wounded people. Herr Rike was the one who told them to go upstairs as she poured water over their wounds, washing away acid and chunks of melted skin, and, sarcastically in her horrible voice, said that everyone would vouch for the woman’s virginity.* Herr Rike’s voice “sounds like a saw.”

*In the Middle Ages, an unmarried woman’s virginity was pretty important to her societal respect, and if she was left alone with a lone man for too long, someone may call her virginity into question. Of course the joke here is that everyone knows that no matter what, they aren’t going to get it on while bits of their skin are still sliding off. None of the Badger Company thought it was very funny.

With the slimes pooled on the ground, they were hardly a threat, they’re super slow and you could just sorta step around them, but they still needed to be dealt with to not become a problem later. Herr Rike went back upstairs and got that jug of lamp oil and poured it on and around the slimes and lit them on fire. That killed them.

So now the party is down two fighters and nearly all of their shields.

It’s dark down here obviously, and several people are carrying torches. Going is a bit slower in the poor lighting. Herr Rike makes a Detect Noise* check. She hears something like faint grinding of stone to the east. This huge band of armed and armored men coming into the castle has definitely made a ton of noise, so Rike’s impression of this sound is that the bad guys have heard them coming, and hid behind some kind of secret door in the stone walls. She tells everyone to keep a look out for any weird cracks in the walls.

*AD&D2e doesn’t have Perception like D&D5e. If it’s in front of them they can see it, if it’s making noise they can hear it, if it stinks they can smell it, etc. However, characters of the Thief class can make a skill check to listen closely for the chance to hear extremely faint sounds that wouldn’t normally be audible.

They check a few yards to the west first, finding two sturdy doors with fine, brand new inset locks on them. Rike tries, but fails to get through these in any way, so they move on to the south and find a long hallway full of cell doors. In the cells are months-old rotten corpses with visible wounds in most of them. It doesn’t look like the starved to death. The stench is almost overwhelming so they turn back and go north to the last door.

To the north they go through a room filled with, like, garbage. Dirt, broken bits of wooden furniture, rotten animal hides, and even what might be feces. Everyone is checking the ceilings carefully now too after the tick and the slimes, and this ceiling looks like it’s on its way to caving in, but not any immediate danger. They go to a door on the far end of the garbage room and open it. All the while, Herr Rike is checking for traps both passively* and actively. There don’t seem to be any traps, but the stench of the next room still hits them like a wall and makes Abigail and some of the others gag. It smells like “unwashed flesh,” in modern terms, it smells like a Magic: The Gathering tournament in there. Rike is unphased, and hisses out into the darkness “Come out, I can smell you.”

*Like I said before about perception, the main way to check for traps is just the player asking the DM “does my character see any weird stones on the floor ahead? Can he see a tripwire behind the door? When he opens the door, can he nudge it open with his sword while standing to the side in case anything shoots out?” and so on, but Thieves can also make skill checks to passively notice them on top of that.

After a few seconds, there’s a loud, low growl from the far corner. “I can smell you too..”

An enormous, grotesque figure steps into the edge of the torchlight. He’s easily nine feet tall and looks like if you took an already large man and stretched him out in all the wrong ways. He’s wearing a loincloth and a huge cape of animal hide, and carrying a full sized halberd that he’s big enough to use as a one-handed weapon. He scrapes it along the ground menacingly, making a horrible sound, but not the same sound that Rike heard earlier with her Detect Noise ability.

Rike doesn’t back away, but holds her crossbow casually in the crook of her arm. They’re about 10 feet from each other. She says in her hoarse, raspy whisper. “So, you can talk. Do you have a name?”

The hulking monster growls his answer. “Lubash. Do you?” He sounds almost as bad as Rike.

“Yes.”

“Hmph. Rude not to answer..” he grunts in annoyance.

“What are you doing down here, Lubash?”

“I guard this place for the people here. Eat people who come in.” He grins, showing jagged and pointy teeth. “Great gig.”

“Congratulations. Do you know who you work for, Lubash?”

“Do you?”

“No, we’re here to find that out.”

“Good luck...” He grins again.

“Thank you, Lubash. Are you going to get in our way?”

Lubash Points his halberd towards the doorway where Rike stands, looking behind her at the dozens of armored men carrying swords, polearms, and crossbows. “No. I go out there, I die. You come in here, you die.”

“We can agree to those terms. Where do that door behind you lead?”

“That’s my pantry.”

Rike nods. She’s not 100% sure that she believes him, but there’s no dice roll for that in AD&D2e, so it’s up to logic and the DM’s description of Lubash’s body language. She decides that even if he is lying, that she would rather not press him and get in the way of that halberd until she has exhausted all her other options. “One more thing, Lubash. Do you know your bosses are holding out on you?”

“How?”

“There’s a dozen corpses in the cells down the hall. They aren’t letting you eat those?”

“No, those aren’t mine, here before I got here. Nasty, rotten.”

Rike attempted to weaken Lubash’s trust with his bosses, but seemingly to no avail. She said goodbye to Lubash and closed the door, then she sprinkled more of the lamp oil all around the floor and flammable objects of the garbage room, and left the other door to the garbage room just slightly open, propping the jug up on top of it, so that if Lubash tries to follow them, he’ll get a nasty splash and then go up on flames at a brush with one of their torches. Plus, the shattering of the jar would alert them.

Now despite the smell, the path of least resistance was south, past the wall of cells with dead bodies in them.

Rike moved forward, noticing nothing out of the ordinary except a greater amount of dust in the mostly empty room further down compared to the rest of the place so far, as if no one had been down there in a long time. It wasn’t exactly *obvious* in hindsight, but she should have known better still. As she stepped into the room down the hall, there was a faint flash of light as she seemingly crossed some kind of invisible line, a magical trap! Someone with more knowledge of magic might have been able to see more of the signs if they were in front, but it was already too late. There was a shuffling sound from the cells as all twelve of the corpses rose to their feet. Most mercenaries immediately realized what was happening, and everyone quickly readied their weapons, falling into formation shoulder-to-shoulder with the archers and spellcasters in back, and three men in reserve watching the doorway with the jug in case Lubash decided to try and make a move for them while they were preoccupied. The line was close to the cell doors, with gaps where every other man stood a few feet back, creating mini chokepoints and kill zones at each door where each one corpse would trickle through and have to fight alone against three mercenaries rather than meeting them all at once. Ceridwen, a druid spellcaster, cast a spell, Fairy Fire, which highlighted the first row of walking corpses in the dark, giving the party a bonus to attack rolls against them.

The dozen walking corpses stood and shambled forward slowly enough that the mercenaries got 2 rounds to act before they were upon them. They shot a volley of crossbow bolts and arrows. The projectiles sunk deep into rotten eye sockets, chests, and shoulders, but at best it just made some of them stumble. Another volley. Even more hit this time, with a couple of criticals for what should’ve been massive damage, but the undead just kept walking forward until they reached the line of spears and swords. In mechanical terms it seemed that they took reduced or possibly even zero damage from piercing attacks like crossbow bolts.

Both players and characters started to get pretty nervous as we started rolling for all these melee attacks and it started to seem like despite stabbing big holes in them with spears and slicing off hands and arms with swords, the undead just didn’t stop. It was the last melee attack of the mercenaries’ round that finally “killed” one. One of the mercenaries using a quarterstaff managed to crush one’s head against the stone wall and it finally stopped moving. Seeing this, those that had them, which was quite few, switched weapons to clubs, thinking that the only way might be to bash them with bludgeoning damage. After another round, another corpse was “killed” with a sword, but it’s still possible that they only take half-damage from slashing weapons. Chrysanthemum, another White Company fighter, brought her weighted grain flail down on another corpse, shattering its skull with such force that flecks of bone sprinkled everyone around. She let out a girlish squeal of disgust.

Piercing weapons were definitely a no-go after one of the corpses just kept walking down the shaft of a spear after being impaled, and grabbed the spearman’s neck, pulling at it until it ripped a small hole in the front, dropping the man into a pool of blood. Another woman was hit so had in the head by one of the corpses unnaturally strong blows that she would’ve surely died if not wearing a helmet. She could still stand, but had to swap out, an archer from the back drawing his sword and stepping in to take her place. One of the other militiamen grabbed the bleeding man and hoisted him backwards out from under the feet of the melee, where Ceridwen quickly got down on her knees to bandage the wound, even though it seemed futile. For his trouble, as his attention was momentarily averted, the militiaman who pulled him back was lunged upon and grabbed into a bear hug by another corpse. He could hardly yell as three ribs cracked in quick succession.

Rike beat that one’s skull in with her baton until it loosened its grip, but she and Abigail still had to pry its arms off before the critically wounded man could be dragged off the front line. With was another round of chopping and beating the remaining corpses down before the coast seemed clear.

The whole combat sequence lasted maybe 6 rounds, and took about 45 minutes of real time, even with over 30 combatants total to make rolls for. It was a nail biter, and would’ve been much worse if the mercenaries hadn’t made such good use of positioning and formation.

Rike quickly went to see to the wounded with Ceridwen. Putting her ear to the crushed man’s chest, she could tell that he hadn’t punctured a lung, but it would still be best to move him as little as possible. She then set to helping Ceridwen carefully clean and bandage the other man’s neck wound. She tended to him last because, having seen the wound happen, she knew that if he hadn’t bled out of suffocated before she got to him, that would be the only indication that he could be saved.

It might as well have been a miracle. The wound exposed part of his trachea, but just missed the jugular and carotid. As long as it was kept clean and bandaged, he had a chance to live. The men cheered and praised God as loudly as they dared to in this place.

As Rike stood up from him, she commanded four of the men to make a stretcher out of an old tent and carefully carry the crushed man upstairs. She jerked her head to the side to indicate the bleeding man, the motion just for an instant shifting her mail gorget and helmet’s visor enough to expose the rough, pale scar tissue across her own throat, speaking in her raspy whisper of a voice. “He can walk.”

The party regrouped after taking the wounded men upstairs. (Again, really really good thing they made the call to hunt down and kill everything on the upper floor.) This hallway was the furthest east they had been, but it seemed to be a dead end. Rike and Ceridwen set to work looking for that secret door. It took about half an hour of searching (in game time, like 1 minute of describing their actions in real time) before Ceridwen found something. She pulled it, and a wall nearby slowly slid down, exposing a narrow passageway.

The funny thing was, the sound of that secret door opening was absolutely not the sound that Rike hear with her Detect Noise ability earlier either, and the dust and cobwebs beyond indicated that this secret passage had not been used in months. So, like, even though they thought they heard a secret door, they were wrong, and it’s only through dumb luck that they stumbled upon this. Like a broken clock.

That’s where we left off in the last session.

Sorry that was long as fuck but I hope this paints a clearer picture of what a classic “dungeon crawl” is actually like to those of you who have never experienced one.

Oh and if you’re wondering the DM told us later that those walking corpses take normal damage from Slashing and Bludgeoning attacks but always 1 damage from Piercing attacks.

"D&D can do anything" and "I don't like dungeon crawls, I enjoy real role-playing" are two statements that often go hand-in-hand and the ironic thing is that the latter statement betrays a very shallow understanding of role-playing while being really snobby. What's even more hilarious is that it's like baby's first RPG elitism, like yeah most people go through a "I like real role-playing" phase but to go through it while putting on airs about the dungeon game while at the same time dismissing dungeon games is real funny.

Anyway, wherever people pick up the idea that dungeon-crawling, the playstyle most supported by D&D, is somehow pedestrian, it very quickly leads to bargaining, like surely if dungeon-crawling is actually bad and for babies then D&D must be capable of so much more, right? Well, truth is, not really, D&D kind of sucks for things besides that.

Where a lot of people go wrong at this point is contending that therefore D&D must be flawed as a role-playing game: like, if it actually kind of sucks for most playstyles besides dungeon-crawling and we've already decided that dungeon-crawling isn't real role-playing, then surely D&D must be bad as a role-playing game?

The issue of course is that most people don't ever interrogate their starting assumption of dungeon-crawls being bad. And truth be told most people who claim to hate dungeon-crawls have never actually played a dungeon-crawl. At most they've played a dungeon-crawl themed linear succession of combat encounters. (I remember this: once when I posted about dungeon-crawls being good, actually, someone responded with a "well I can see the appeal but personally I couldn't enjoy a game that's just back-to-back combat" which is a whole misunderstanding of dungeon-crawls as a genre.)

Anyway so the great thing is that once you re-examine your assumptions about what counts as "real role-playing" and conclude that a dungeon-crawl is as much real role-playing as whatever the fuck Critical Role is doing then you find whole new vectors of being a snooty blowhard and it rules. You can make fun of D&D players in so many new ways,

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crescenthistory · 2 days ago

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hi there love! i hope you're doing well 🤍 if it's okay w/ u, i'd like to request a regulus fic (are we surprised? no-) with an animagus! reader. maybe reggie and reader got into a fight about something and reader's still holding a grudge. they refuse to change out of their cat (or any animal u choose!) form and regulus is trying everything to get them to change back. ending in fluff probably :D

~🍓

i'm quite alright darling, hope the same goes for you<3 this little drabble is written with the same cat!animagus!reader i've written for reggie so far in mind (whiskers, my love) since she's known to be petty...

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: fem!reader, minor fight (lighthearted), embarrassment, you're petty, regulus grovels, black brothers have poor people skills, make-up, background wolfstar and (judgemental) bsf!remus

"How long has she been like this?"

Sirius was eyeing Regulus funnily, seemingly drawn between wanting to laugh at him and wondering if maybe he should comfort him. Remus felt none of the latter sentiments and all of the former.

"Since our last class on Friday," Regulus replied miserably from where his face was buried in his hands, resting atop his knees. "She shifted immediately after."

"So... for over 24 hours," Sirius surmised.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, based on how Regulus lifted his head from where he was practically bent in half, just to glare at his older brother. "Thanks for doing the maths, Sirius. Not the problem I needed solving, though." Throughout his sentence, his eyes increasingly narrowed at his brother as if his irritation grew with every word.

"No, your problem," Remus volleyed. "Is whatever the hell you've done."

Regulus groaned and buried his face once more.

Across the common room from the trio, a white and grey cat was pettily walking back and forth along whatever furniture it could reach. Its tail was standing up straight, whipping about in annoyance.

Remus poked Regulus in the ribs to get a response. "What'd you do, Baby Black?"

"I may or may not have corrected her in Potions in front of Slughorn, even though she may have been working on gaining his respect all term," Regulus murmured.

The chuckle that escaped Remus was finally one of understanding. "Ah," he said through a smile. "I believe that is what we in the business call a rookie mistake."

Regulus sat up with a jerk, hands moving emotively as he made his case to his brother and brother-in-law, where they were sat on top of each other in a plush chair. "But I've apologised! Profusely, and several times! I don't know what else to do?" The last sentence was voiced as a question, though it was not formulated as one. Perhaps the closest the younger Black brother could get to asking for help.

"Maybe you should give Slughorn a speech about how great she is."

Regulus quirked up at that, eyes zeroing in on Sirius. "You really think that would work?" Remus could have burst out laughing at the lack of sarcasm in the younger boy's voice.

"No," Remus said softly, while chidingly patting Sirius' knee. "Don't listen to him, you lot have the same amount of people skills. Do you know your girlfriend, Regulus?"

"Yes?" Regulus' voice was uncertain, looking between the boys with furrowed brows.

"What usually motivates her to hold a grudge?" Remus prompted then, ever patient.

He was quiet for a minute as he thought. "When she feels wronged. Like when Evan apologised for her 'interpretaion' of what he said instead of for him hurting her feelings, and she disliked him for three years."

Remus nodded solemnly. "And is there a reason she might still feel wronged by you now?"

Regulus' gaze finally fixated on the cat across the room, nodding too as the puzzle pieces slowly assembled in his mind. "I apologised for correcting her... but not embarrassing her. She probably feels like I was lording over her or something."

"Meaning..?" Gods, Remus was really laying it on thick here. The curse of the Black family.

"I should go tell her as much." Regulus nodded and moved to hurry over towards you, swinging around at the last minute to give the two boys an almost-smile. "Uh, thanks Sirius. Remus."

Then he was off.

Sirius turned his face into Remus' cheek. "No idea what he's thanking me for; you did all the talking."

Remus sighed, melting further into his boyfriend. "That's what I've been saying."

Regulus tenderly approached you, sitting down somewhat gingerly in a chair beside the table you were currently parading around. "Hi, amour," he said softly. "Can we talk?"

You just wagged your tail in response, in a fashion Regulus has come to learn means displeasure.

"Please love, I want to give you a proper apology. It would be best to do so face-to-face, no?" He reached his hand out towards you, an open invitation. You stopped for a moment to regard him, but then lightly slapped at his hand to get it out of your face. Regulus decided to take it as a victory that your claws were retracted at the very least – you weren't out for blood.

“Okay,” he said through a breath. “I guess I’ll just… talk to a kitten and look crazy.” Upon your quiet hiss, he amended, “Talk to a cat, sorry. Gods, I’m sputtering today, aren’t I?” That final part you seemed to agree upon at least.

“Amour, I am truly deeply sorry for embarrassing you like that. It was such a little thing, and Slughorn has been so unfair towards you this year. I didn't mean to set you back in your progression with him, though frankly, he is in the wrong there, not you. As am I. For someone who feels like he can go around correcting people, that was quite air-headed of me, yeah? The one person keeping me grounded is you, amour, please would you come back to me? You can give me a proper scolding if you’d like, I can take it.”

Regulus was pouring his heart out, and if he dared to hope, he thought your feline face might have softened. You walked closer to him, seemingly studying his face.

Then, you jumped off the table and ran away.

He sighed heavily, letting his forehead fall down to the table with a light thump. If you were going to keep giving him the furred shoulder, he might just stay here. It was hard work being a tosser who’s missing his girlfriend.

Before he could wallow further in his sorrows, he felt a soft hand be placed on his shoulder. A touch he would recognise anywhere.

His head flew up from the table to look up at you – standing above him, smiling softly and somewhat sheepishly. The hand on his shoulder grew bolder, squeezing, while the other came up to cup the side of his face. Regulus ignored any instinct to cower away and instead happily melted into your touch.

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, and he knew he was mostly forgiven.

Emboldened by this new development, he turned in his seat so that his body faced you, slotting you in between his thighs and letting his hands come to rest heavily at the top of your hip. “Hi amour,” he breathed out, reverent. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you laughed, and he knew you knew what. He indulged you anyway.

“Coming back to me.” His voice was murmured, eyes hooded as he stared up at you. “I miss you when you remain as Whiskers, you know?”

“I do know,” you teased. “That’s kind of the whole point, yeah? Make you think.”

He shook his head and leaned his forehead tentatively against your stomach. “A cruel punishment, but an understandable one. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Regulus sighed when your hand migrated to scratch through his hair. “I know, baby. I just wanted to hear you say it. And–” at this point he could hear the blush in your voice “– at some point it just became principle. Too late to back out.”

Laughing against the fabric of your shirt, he moved to rest his chin against you, gazing up at you at an angle that was slightly uncomfortable but definitely worth it. He let a small grin slip. “Stubborn minx,” he whispered.

“Oi!” you chided gently. “You’re in no position to levy such accusations, mister.”

“I can’t imagine loving you more,” he said through a sigh, not even thinking over the words. They were just right, and demanded to be brought up.

If the way your body melted against his was anything to go by, you didn’t mind.

A booming voice cut the moment short. “You two are painfully dramatic,” Sirius yelled from across the room, clearly having paid attention to the whole make-up conversation. “Please never fight again.”

“And that’s coming from Sirius Black,” Remus added solemnly, earning himself an indignant swat from his partner.

“He’s right,” Regulus whispered conspiratorially to you. “I cannot be the most dramatic Black brother, that would be blasphemy.”

“Then I suggest,” you said before giving him a light peck, “you be on your best behaviour from now on.

A grin. “Yes ma’am.”

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hollyhomburg · 2 days ago

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Before I Leave You (Pt.77)

(sneek peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Tae and Hobi help Yoongi during your first wave of heat.

Tags: heat sex, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, fertility kink, Dom! Yoongi, foursome, fluffy, no hurt just comfort, alot of smut but it's also very loving, coming prematurely, breeding kink, cum play, sleepy sex, mommy kink, talking her through it, dirty talk, exhibitionism voeyeurisim, teasing, flirting, biting,

W/c: 11.3k

A/n: thank you guys for being so tolerant of my brief absense, i didn't intend to take so long to update this but unfortunately sometimes living through historical events can be really tough to get through.

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

You laugh until you hiss, curling to the side just a little, a wave racking through you. Burning and stinging from your stomach outwards.

Yoongi stills, one hand on your knee the other pressed to your stomach flat, eyes wide. Tae lets your wrists go so you can clutch at your stomach. Holding your face through it. "oh my little honey, don't worry, we'll make it better, shh just-" She's a little more panicky than the rest of them are. Hobi's hand is just hard on your shoulder, knuckles white, expression stricken but unsure.

Yoongi holds your stomach too. Alarmed by your trembling. "Are you- do you need-“ a knot, hovers on the edge of his tongue.

But you just blink. “Yoongi- it's too much- it burns- Sore- so sore here” You touch your stomach gently, but it's so sensitive it still makes you hiss.

but after a moment you relax, stretching back out in the nest. breathing heavy until you aren't until the cramping, the aching need want filled need to be filled in your head quiets.

Yoongi's fingers swirl on your stomach, gently. it's sensitive, but it actually does make you feel better. “You ran, do you want us to wait for Namjoon or-" You’re already shaking your head no when Yoongi cuts off. settling back against the nest, letting your legs flop open so that he can shuffle forward closer.

You don't wonder why Yoongi mentions Namjoon. He's the pack alpha, and the right to breed you first in heat is his as dictated by old laws and rules and all manner or propriety.

But Namjoon is not your mate and he's not like that. He cares about your wants first. His own ego is very far down on his list of priorities (probably ranks just after Noodle's wellbeing in terms of Namjoon's pack alpha priorities. Dominance is its own kind of submission)

And, judging by Jin's snarling from the other room- he'll be preoccupied for at least the next hour. You don't know if you can wait that long. A whine drips out of you, a sound small and weak.

Hobi shuffles closer to you. Bare-chested, his red shorts looking tight. Looking unsure. "You did run, do you not want-" us, does not come out.

You shift, futile trying to get comfortable, it's impossible with the weight of your instincts pinning you down. “Nah, just ran cuz it’s fun. Not cuz I didn’t want you to fuck me.”

Yoongi huffs, his anxiety dissipating, fond with it, fingers itching up your thighs, parting them just a little so that he can shuffle forward closer to you. Until you can feel the heat from his tummy against yours.

You can feel so much. Your whole body one big nerve ending. You can feel the slight fluff and softness of the peach fuzz on his tummy dragging against yours as he gets closer. The feel of his slender but strong fingers circling your ankles. All of it.

You like this, you always like it when Yoongi's close.

“Glad we cleared that up, it’s not like I can’t literally see you slicking up but-“ you laugh and try and swat at him. He drops one of your ankles to catch your hand and tangles it with his for good measure.

A small smile hovers on the edge of his lips. He searches your face, smiling at what he sees- your dopey smile and endeared indignation. The heat might be new, but this is so familiar his heart aches with it.

“If you’re gonna tease me while I’m in heat can you at least make it good?” Your breath goes heavy. Warm and sweet, fluffing over him. Everything; the sweetness to your scent, the ruddiness of your knees and stomach, the messy fluff of your hair over the pastel pillow, the relaxed sprawl of your body, a siren song for Yoongi.

Above you- Tae and Hobi stay quiet. Just watching, Tae drags a lock of your hair away from your face. Patient while you and yoongi flirt. “I thought you liked my teasing.”

Your tone sounds petulant even to you, “I do just not-”

Yoongi presses your knees apart, up towards your chest putting you on display and bare. abrumptly cutting off your words as you let out a broken moan. He puts a bit more force behind it than usual, But you feel yourself clench and his gaze flickers down.

The smile on his face widens just a bit, and you hiccup through the shudder that rocks through you. Your body burns, your stomach churns, your skin simmers where he touches craving for more more more.

A breeding press. That's what Yoongi's just put you into. knees to your chest, your sensitive heat slit ripe and wet between your thighs, ready for the taking. a breeding press infront of two alpha's, infront of Tae and Hobi, watching with wide dark eyes.

“Hold her.” Yoongi’s command is not snapped or growled out but Hobi and Tae follow suit regardless. Hobi fumbles, grabbing one wrist and Tae grabs the other.

Boneless. Ready for breeding. Settled. It’s a bit of a strange show of dominance. But inside, Yoongi isn’t surprised that you needed it. to be held down and puppeted and propped. To know that they’re in control before you let your alpha's breed you.

He says your alphas- but he's the only one you're looking at. The only one you're whining for.

It’s hard to articulate your hands or your mind, tongue wrapped around a sound that can only be an endless whimper. Tae leans low when you try to squirm again. Her teeth nip at your ear, a shock to your system that makes you leak a fresh gush of slick half onto Yoongi's lap.

You have to be spilling and dripping by now. You try and press your legs back together and hide but Yoongi keeps you spread.

“No pup, settle.”

Coming Saturday November 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

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wallabywhump · 13 hours ago

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Post Episode 8x08 CODA/Continuation

Content: Light angst, Buck spiralling, Buck's abandonment issues/running thoughts/(has ADHD), BuckTommy hints at the end.

Word Count: 1,965

Started writing this when the episode ended, please enjoy!

---

The sign goes out front of Eddie's house two weeks later, Buck helps to dig the hole. Buck helps talk to the realtor. Buck talks Eddie down from a three-bed home with an attic office in a HOA suburb and helps him find a respectably sized two bed that will leave him with money to renovate the bathroom and add a ramp up to the door.

Buck bakes a million cookies and eats them while Eddie has meetings with realtors. He sets out sweet breads and muffins when Eddie has an open house, and he happily serves them to people, "yes, there is a gluten free option! I was playing around with xanthan gum, so it shouldn't- oh, you're too kind."

All through it all, Buck focuses on Eddie, and he tries to ignore the ball of panic that's growing and growing and growing, as Eddie calls his mom and dad, and talks to Chris, and they're discussing going to view the home together and-

"I'll be there in two days, buddy!" Eddie says to Chris, a smile wide on his face while he put the autographed picture of the Hotshots cast into a wallet to keep it safe. "I can't wait to see you; we can talk without it lagging."

Buck takes a deep breath.

"Buck's not coming, LA won't survive if we both are off work."

Buck takes the butter off the heat, starts mixing in the sugar.

"I was talking it over with Grandpa, and we can go to the aquarium while I'm there. I'll even get to cheer you on in your chess match."

Chris groans. "You don't cheer during chess matches, dad, you have to be quiet."

Eddie laughs, and Buck needs to savor that sound. Needs to bottle up the sound of his best friend, and the kid he loves to the moon and back, teasing each other because he doesn't know how long he'll have this for. "Well, okay, you'll just have to teach me what to do, Mijo. I've never been to a chess match before."

The flour comes out of the microwave and Buck mixes that in, the soothing fold-fold-fold making his raging heart beat easier to ignore.

"You've never played chess before," Chris teases.

Buck spares a glance at Eddie, and he's fondly smiling at the tablet, and he says, "Well, you'll have to teach that too. Need to understand how you're winning, kid."

Buck is trying his best to be happy for Eddie, desperately putting his issues to the side, he hasn't even mentioned Tommy with all the baking he's been doing.

Eddie, graciously, hasn't mentioned how Buck has gone back to how he was the exact week after Tommy dumped him.

Or perhaps Eddie hasn't noticed with all the preparation and the legal jargon and clearing out everything to make the house look pretty for viewings, and Buck-

Buck really wants to talk to someone.

Eddie's leaving, Bobby is busy building a house, Hen, Maddie, Chimney-

Everyone's moving forward towards something happier. And Buck's stuck trying not to tie his best friend to a city with his sad puppy dog eyes and a pout, all while missing his ex so much that focusing on Eddie leaving drowns out that pain and fills it with something different.

"Buck?"

Buck jumps, dropping his spatula into the bowl. "Huh? W-What's-"

"Chris hung up, he's got school tomorrow."

Buck picks his spatula up, continues mixing his cookie dough. It's as he folds a third time that he notices he forgot the chocolate chips.

"More cookies?"

Buck forces a smile on his face, ignores the floundering puttering in his heart that tells him he needs to call someone before this becomes unsustainable. Baking isn't distracting him, it's not-

He wants Eddie to stay, he wants Chris to come home, he wants a barbecue in Bobby's backyard with his family-

He wants to call Tommy.

"It's for the viewing tomorrow," Buck says, proud of how even his voice sounds, how it doesn't even sound like a lie.

Eddie sidles up to the counter, looking into the bowl. "You don't have to try buttering up potential buyers with sugary goods. I know you set a precedent for the first one, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

Buck puts the bowl and spatula down and bumps his hip into Eddie's as he starts greasing up the pan. "If I sweeten them up, maybe they'll actually buy, and you can leave quicker."

The free-sounding tease is easy, it's easy to fake, it's been easy to fake since that day he picked up the tablet and saw the houses. It's been easy to fake since Tommy dumped him, and he had to crawl out of his home and go to work and look somewhat put together, so no-one was scared on their calls. It's been easy to fake since Abby left him at the airport, and with a home that wasn't quite his, and an uneasy feeling in his heart that she wasn't coming back. It's been easy to fake since he was sixteen years old, and Maddie was leaving and-

Maddie, Abby, Tommy, Eddie.

People leave, and that's okay, and it's selfish to force them to stay. No matter how much he wished they would choose to stay.

Buck scoops out a glob of dough and drops it onto his pan.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, bud, I'm gonna have a beer while you finish with...that."

Buck sets up the mixer to bake a cake after he puts the cookies in the oven.

---

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and spirals.

The goodbye wave feels robotic, despite knowing that Eddie will be back in a week, even if it's just to start packing up his life to move it hours away. His phone sits in the dock on the dash, and Buck-

Buck doesn't have anything to distract himself from the yawning emptiness inside him.

Nothing to put his mind to, nothing to focus on, just a whole lot of nothing.

The nothing that has been eating away at every positive thought and coping skill he'd put into trying to ignore how much he missed Tommy. The way Tommy would rub his arm and pull him in for a hug when he was feeling low. How Tommy would sarcastically tease him when his anxiety spiked, until Buck couldn't even remember he'd been anxious. How they could sit in silence and not have to chat, and it was just peaceful, and it put Buck at ease, and Tommy wouldn't even mention when Buck's leg started tapping, he'd just put a hand on Buck's knee and lean his weight into-

Fuck.

Tommy would have been a rock through this, platitudes about Eddie not being dead, stop panicking. "I can fly a helicopter, babe, just say the word and you can visit."

Except, Tommy isn't his rock anymore. He's a hurricane that has Buck unmoored and swirling in an abyss of panic and loneliness and, fuck, shit, fuck, Buck has to talk to someone. Or bake something. Or go to the middle of nowhere, with no reception, and scream at the sky.

Everyone's busy. Eddie's on a plane. No-one...he has-

"Buck?"

Buck jolts, staring down at the phone now in his hand, Tommy's face filling the screen, his nose scrunched and looking confused, concerned and cold all in one expression.

So closed off.

"I-I didn't mean to call," Buck whispers, his voice weak and thready even to his own ears. "Hi. Uh, I'll just, uh, hang up."

Except Buck doesn't, he stares at Tommy and feels his heart stutter.

Tommy raises an eyebrow, and Buck watches the cold melt off Tommy's face, leaving only confusion and concern.

"What's happening, Buck?"

"I...just dropped Eddie off at the airport, and I'm sitting at the drop off spot in the taxi ranks, and-"

Tommy's confusion disappears, and his eyes soften, and he's openly concerned and it's like a knife in Buck's chest.

Buck lets out a hoarse laugh. "I've held it in for weeks, not calling, and my best friend leaves and it's like I can't help it- Jesus." Buck runs a hand down his face, he feels like a mess.

"Why did you call me, Buck?"

Because it was habit for six months straight, because every time Buck's been sad since the breakup he's had to physically remove himself from his phone to stop himself from calling Tommy, because Buck just wants to have Tommy as his, and he can't seem to move on despite everyone else seeming able to.

"Everyone else...is moving forward, making families and living their lives, but I'm-"

Buck should hang up, forget about this, say 'sorry, bye asshole', and block Tommy's number once and for all.

Except-

"I'm stuck, stuck on that day in my loft, wondering what happened and how that occurred, and all I've wanted since the day it happened was to call you and fix it or-or, I don't know...I just feel so incomplete here. Unsatisfied. Nothing-nothing makes sense."

Buck rolls on.

"And Eddie told me not to call, so I didn't, except then Eddie decided he wanted to move to Texas and I couldn't be selfish and ask him to stay, so instead I've been helping him, helping him leave my life, because then at least I helped control it."

Buck chokes up.

"Because he's an adult with different priorities, and he can make his own decisions and it's my job as a friend to support him, and I guess you'd know that too if you still talked to him, or hey, maybe he would have stayed for you." He's fucking it up, finally got Tommy on the phone and rather than giving Tommy all the reasons they could work, and he should stay, he's dumping all his fears about Eddie leaving. "And I- I'm not making sense, I'm all over the place, this is not what I wanted to say at all, I had a whole speech about how I love you, and I deserved better, and-"

"Are you safe to drive?" Tommy asks, his voice cutting through Buck's monologue.

Buck bites his lip and nods his head. Of course, Tommy doesn't want to hear about his problems, they're broken up.

"Yeah, yeah, I..." Buck sniffs, wipes at his face despite it being dry, and forces a smile on his face. "I'm just a little sad, sorry for calling."

Tommy shakes his head, and he looks like he's in physical pain, and God, Buck feels like an asshole. He's so selfish, and he should have just thrown his phone out and got a new number after the breakup if he knew he was just going to trample over boundaries.

"No, don't be s- I mean, okay, okay. This sounds like- Eddie left? No, this is a conversation for in person," Tommy sounds just as confused and lost as Buck, which isn't nice, because Buck expects Tommy to be a rock, to be steady, to be- well, that went out the window the night they broke up.

"In person?" Buck wonders aloud.

Tommy hums, and his nose scrunches up, and he puts a finger to the bridge of his nose. The video feed is shaking like the phone in his hand is shaking. Buck swallows and waits for whatever emotional turmoil Tommy is experiencing to pass.

"Drive yourself to mine," Tommy orders.

Buck stares at the screen in shock. "W-What? Tommy, I- no, I-" A taxi starts honking their horn behind him.

"Mine," Tommy repeats, sure, and despite everything it makes that emptiness in Buck feel a little smaller, like Tommy is filling it with just the promise of a conversation. "Sounds like you need to get going. See you soon, Evan."

Tommy hangs up, and Buck spirals, but he starts the car anyway and drives to Tommy's with a spark of something in his chest.

#911 season 8 #911 fanfic #911 spoilers #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #bucktommy fanfic #8.08 coda #911 8.08 #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #wallabywrites #my writing #i just keep thinking about Eddie leaving being a catalyst for Buck finally calling Tommy because he hates not having closure #he's done that once before and he refuses to repeat it #and with no best friend to steal Buck's phone or anything to put his energy into...habit kicks in #Tommy picks up because that is *his* habit - to always go when Buck calls #(i haven't localized this so if words like “taxi rank” are incorrect i apologize)#I don't even fully know what this is lol

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serendipitous-imagines · 17 hours ago

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Can you do a Homicipher Mr Gap x transmasc reader smut fic? Maybe w him eating the reader out? Perhaps?

cws/tws: female genitalia verbiage, oral, fingering, begging, edging

omg,,, my first homicipher request!! i have been so in love with all of the characters in this game and it has been so fun playing through all of the routes! i do get easily jumpscared bc i am a coward but hey, fear and adrenaline adds to emotions I am pretty sure ;> as always~ the fun stuff is under the cut~

Where were you again...? Oh, right, you were stuck down here, running around mindlessly, looking for an elevator that may or may not bring you back to your world... And everyone surrounding you was a creature that was almost beyond human comprehension. But... they were kind, kinder than anyone had ever really been to you, and they cared, they cared so much about you, about how you felt, about how your body ached and reacted. Sure, it could have been because they wanted to do experiments on you, maybe even take your arms, but it being cared for like this felt so nice. Honestly, it would be a waste to leave everyone down here. How would you even live life normally again after meeting everyone? A soft groan escaped your lips as you rolled over on the bed, flopping your head down into the pillow that had definitely been untouched for a while, but it was better than laying on the ground. You could not imagine how it felt for Mr. Chopped- where even was he? Where was anyone? The room suddenly felt far more cold and empty than it had before. Anxiety crept into your chest and in an attempt to comfort yourself, you pulled the white blanket up to your head, wanting to hide from the vast empty echoes of the labyrinth where you found yourself confined. ... Why did it feel like you were being watched...? Lifting the sheet up hesitantly, you tilted your head downwards, unknowingly holding your breath as you glanced down at your legs. Nothing... You set the sheet down and let out the breath you had been holding, looking around the room. You were just being paranoid because you were alone, there was nothing to worry about, you were sure Mr. Crawling would be around at any moment and you would feel better. Shaking your head, you lifted the sheets to lay back down and- "AHHHH!!!!" Your whole body jumped, a scream involuntarily coming out, legs pressing together as you made eye contact with Mr. Gap smiling up at you from under the covers. "When did you get here?!" you yelled, fingers trembling as you held the sheets up, eyes wide.

"I help..." Mr. Gap mumbled, a smile on his face, his visible eye upturned with small crinkles in the corners of them. "Is there a reason why you are smiling so hard?" you asked, a smile on your face, wondering what organ or part of your body he was going to ask to take. Mr. Gap tilted his head, not understanding your question, his smile still ever-so-prevalent. "Give?" he asked. "Me want have." Mr. Gap repeated, his voice a little more firm. You could feel his warm breath hitting the insides of your thighs, goosebumps appearing on your skin from the warmth in the cold room. "Want what?" you asked, thighs shifting to close from the embarrassment of Mr. Gap's head being so close to such intimate areas. "Want you." Strong hands wrapped themselves around the inside of your thighs, pinning them open despite your attempts to force them closed. "M-me?!" your voice squeaked in surprise as your pants were ripped clear off of your legs. Mr. Gap's face leaned forward, huffing your scent, his fingers digging deeper into the squishy flesh of your thighs. "Smell good. Smell like. Want. Want. Want." Mr. Gap repeated, massaging your thighs in his palms obsessively, his words melting into mere mumbles as his teeth caught the fabric of your underwear, ripping them off (though you were unsure if he ate them or dropped them onto the bed, they were destroyed anyways). "Mr. Gap..." a breathless mutter came from your lips as Mr. Gap's mouth wrapped around your pussy, his tongue frotting against your clit. Your hips lifted at the sensation, a small whine leaving your lips as Mr. Gap's tongue started to speed up, greedily lapping up the arousal that started to drip from your vagina. How did he even know how to do this? Your hand slid beneath the sheets, wrapping your fingers around his hair as his tongue buried itself inside of your pussy, rubbing against your insides, easily gliding around in your arousal. Mr. Gap let out a low groan, a noise you had never heard him make before as his hand slid up your thigh before hovering just below his chin. His lips wrapped themselves hungrily around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves as two of his fingers circled around your soaked and sensitive entrance. A moan of pure desperation and a need like none other you have felt before came from your agape mouth, tugging on Mr. Gap's long hair, which had started to become knotted between your fingers. Your gazes caught one another, and you could see and feel his smile get wider before he sunk his fingers without warning into you. Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, walls clenching around Mr. Gap's unforgiving fingers that slid deep inside like he was going to pull your internal organs out from you. Your hips rocked, riding his fingers as his tongue pressed against your clit, flicking up and down as he sucked. Those calloused fingers provided a much needed texture, curling inside of you and forcing your walls wider open. Hearing such beautiful mewls coming from you, and feeling your hips starting to tremble, closing in on your orgasm, Mr. Gap cruelly slid his slick-covered digits out of your pussy, rubbing your hole as you gasped and looked at him with eyes that could only be described as downright pathetic. In an action even more cruel, he pulled his mouth away from your swollen and throbbing clit. Your head lifted, your eyes wide in surprise as he rested his head on your thigh and just smiled at you, a taunting, cruel smile. "You know exactly what you are doing..." you whined out, rolling your hips towards his face. "Me funny." "No," you retorted back with a pout on your lips. Mr. Gap laughed, fingers still mindlessly rubbing your opening, which was now soaking the sheets beneath you. "Me funny. You cute." Mr. Gap looked up at your face, which was twinged pink before he pushed three of his fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out of your hole far rougher than he had before. At full force, your orgasm hit your body at full force, crying out Mr. Gap's name as your cum squirted into his mouth and he greedily swallowed it.

FANDOMS ~ MASTERLIST ~ COMMISSIONS ~ REQUESTS

#homicipher #homicipher x reader #homicipher mr gap #homicipher x you #imagine #imagines blog #mr gap #mr gap x reader #mr gap x you #trans reader #ftm reader

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theresascove · 2 days ago

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oh. oh… vi’s crashing out scene shows how she’s the kind of person to be like, “eh, I don’t care,” but as time goes by they REALLY fucking do

—> so here’s a FULL break down of that 6-9 month time skip scene

• how shaky, flashy, and quick the camera moves and continues to get. It’s similar to how you get when you’re drunk. It starts out clean and then gets snappier as the scene continues

• her relationship with Loris going to shit. It started out with celebrations (you can see them cheering together, arms around each others backs) to him pulling a drink away from Vi, to him sitting further away with his back turns towards her. Then we get another scene of Vi going to cheers w him and he’s not there, she sets the cup down and then proceeds to fall on the bar counter and the drink falls to the floor

• Vi goes from laying fully on the bed on her back to (a few frames later showing a time skip) Vi barely even making it to her bed

• the alcohol bottles piling up & her throwing up from the amount (or possibly from screaming into the sink full of water)

• she also keeps screaming a ton—during fighting, in her apartment (by punching bag and in the sink). the only other times I’ve heard Vi make such a sound is when she’s fighting other people as seen in s1 and s2, so her just screaming in her bedroom is showing INTENSE feelings

• the prision wall day counting on the walls (I didn’t really count, but I estimate there’s about 100+ days seeing as I picked out each grouping and timed it by 5). they seem to show up more as they switch between different frames of Vi in her room. Also be aware this is as much as I COULD count, there’s definitely more just out of frame. The writers confirmed this time skip is about 6-9 months

• smearing the black paint on her face w intent at first but as time goes by she gets messier, full hands on her face and eyes almost rolling up

• she’s literally sobbing against her punching bag (they don’t show her crying anytime else but I’m SURE she did it a lot more… but look at the tears on her face and the pain in her expression-IT KILLS ME).

• ^^towards the end (last photo of her smearing the paint (just before that she had broken the mirror). seemingly getting fed up and reaching a breaking point

• she goes from clean fists, to bloody fingers as the time skip goes on

• how beat up she gets as the time slip continues as she loses focus and begins to fall apart

• Vi going from pit fighting, to the bar, to her room to sleep/get ready/punch the punching bag

• then she “sobers” back up as best as possible, puts the paint on again, just to go there with a heavy heart and get beaten quickly

• Vi hallucinating Caitlyn in many ways. When we see the flag and in the bar scene and one last time when Vi thinks back to when they had that moment in Caitlyn’s room in s1

• Vi hallucinating the girl she “fell in love w” and not who had hurt her/how she had become since Caitlyn’s mother died

• the way she would look up at the Kiramman flags and think of Caitlyn each time she went up the stairs to her room. pictures show her doing it a first time, and then later down the line after a few months—she’s still looking up

• (eventually snatching one at some point and using it as a blanket as shown by the show)

• practically drowning herself in the sink full of water and screaming (maybe to try and silence her thoughts…? Water is quiet)

screenshooting Vi’s crashing out phase is so much more depressing when you take it frame by frame and remove the rock music and upbeat animation

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chimneyz · 3 days ago

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This was the last call Maddie expected, the last person that she thought would ever be on the other end of the line.

"911. What is your emergency?"

Maddie didn't know how many times she has repeated those words. Not that it mattered but she wondered some times. Wondered how many people she's actually helped, how many people she was the last person they ever spoke to.

On the other end of the line multiple alarms blaring were off aching Maddie's ears. Gusts of wind scream through making it hard to hear anything that is happening.

"911. Is anyone there?" Maddie's eyes narrowed her heart rate steadily increasing.

"Maddie is that you?" a man's voice piped up.

The blood in Maddie's veins grow ice cold, she knows that voice. She may not know that voice well but she knows that voice. That same voice that made her brother happy all those months ago, that same voice that became an important part in her brother’s life, that same voice that ultimately destroyed him.

"Tommy? W-What is going on? What happened?"

A mirthless laugh comes from the other line.

"Nothing happened yet, but it will. God I was really hoping someone else would pick up the line."

"Where are you?"

"Ummm, in the sky, but that won't last long. Helicopter is going down, nothing I can do..."

"Where are you Tommy? I-I can send help, you will get through this."

"No, I don't think I will, not this time."

Tears started pooling in Maddie’s eyes.

"Tommy don't say that, you don't know what is going to happen."

Silence.

"Maddie, can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can you make sure you're here when Evan hears this? He's on shift right now, so no point in calling him... I guess I could of left a voicemail but it's a little hard to think when you're falling to your death."

"Tommy you aren't going to die."

"Sure," Tommy chuckles "Then let's just say falling. It's hard to think while falling."

Tommy take a moment to breath.

"So I guess here is my message. Evan, I have been trying for weeks to figure out the right words, completely failing to find them. I guess now is as good a time as any, in case, well I guess you know already. I shouldn't have said what I said that night. I was just scared, scared of the future, scared that you would actually see me and not this version of me you have in your head. Probably could of used some better words that night to explain my self. You should of heard the earfull I gor from Eddie, he was -understandably- pissed. So I apologize for what I said, how things turned out. Hell even for calling you Buck. I was trying to distance myself from you but it came out cruel and uncalled for. That wasn't my attention. I didn't realize that subtracting my self from the equation, from us, would hurt you. Nor did I realize how much it would hurt me..."

Maddie pursed her lips as tears started streaming down her cheeks. She may have been angry at Tommy for everything but she was seeing a side of him she didn't expect.

"I guess what I want to say, what I am trying to say before I can't is; I love you Evan, I have for a while now and fuck dose it scare me. It scares me how hard I have fallen for you... and that I am sorry, I am so sorry how things have ended Evan."

Silence.

"Tommy?" Maddie finally piped up, her mouth dry.

"Yeah, still here."

"I am going to get you some help ok? And you can tell my brother everything you just said to me in person you got that Tommy?

"Ok," Tommy sighed, "But as a just in case will you give him this message, worse case scenario."

"There isn't going to be a worse case scenario.

"Please just promise me Maddie."

Maddie shudders through the tears, "Yeah ok I will."

"Thank you."

The alarms keep blaring into Maddie’s ears for what feels like forever. Then nothing. The line goes dead.

"Tommy?"

Silence.

#you can interpret the ending how ever you want to #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 #911 abc #911 ficlet #ficlet #evan buckley #tommy kinard #maddie han #mine

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merakiui · 2 days ago

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i’ve yet to see anyone talk about how much looking glass riddle really loved lady rosehearts. he protected them from moroz for YEARS all for nothing. and our poor baby never even got to send or read any of the letters that were sent back and forth. he dedicated his life to the lady of the house and not a single thank you came his way.

brb gonna go put on my mourning dress

Yes!!! He loved his lady so very much and he gave everything for you: his estate, his possessions, even his life. ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ ohhh, he’s so tragic… I think his feelings are deeply authentic if he was willing to argue with his mother on multiple occasions just to be able to marry you (and he did and he succeeded because Riddle is nothing if not stubborn)!!! Arranged marriage or not, he was absolutely besotted with you.

Thanklessly protecting you for all that time, even more fiercely as he grew sickly….. AAAAA MY HEART!!!! And all of his lady’s qualities that he admired and fell in love with are displayed in the story. Your determination, your strength, your intelligence and wit, your bravery. He loved you for everything that you are, but most of all he loved your brain. <3 Riddle knew well before his death that if anyone was going to be able to take on Moros it would be his lady. He always believed in this. Even Moros recognized that Riddle’s love for you is sincere.

There’s so much tragedy that shrouds poor Riddle in this story, but then there’s also so much love. >w< if not for that rotten Moros, perhaps he could’ve had a true happily ever after with you. :<

#twisted chit chat #rido you deserve the world orz

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dissapointu · 3 days ago

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How Jinx Would Act After an Argument with Her Partner

1. Immediate Withdrawal, Then Overwhelming Guilt

After an argument, Jinx will initially withdraw. She tends to shut down emotionally when she feels like she’s hurt someone, or when the conflict hits too close to her heart. She might storm off to her room or go somewhere quiet to cool down. During this time, her mind races, and she’s probably replaying everything that was said. As much as she acts tough and chaotic on the outside, she’s very sensitive underneath it all. The guilt sets in quickly, and she’ll often feel like she messed up, even if she didn’t entirely. You might catch her staring at the ground or fiddling with something absentmindedly, trying to process what happened.

2. Struggling to Apologize

Jinx’s pride and wild nature make it hard for her to say sorry, but deep down, she’s aware when she’s wrong. She’ll struggle with it, often making up quirky excuses for why she behaved the way she did, trying to brush it off with humor or deflection. “Okay, okay, so maybe I said a few things I shouldn’t have, but you know me, I just—uh, I get passionate! That’s all!” But even with her usual deflection, you’ll know it’s her way of easing into the apology she’s been avoiding. She wants to make things right but doesn’t always know the best way to go about it.

3. Acts Out Through Affection

Instead of directly talking about the argument, Jinx will show her remorse in a more physical way. She might randomly surprise you with a hug, jump into your lap for comfort, or start bombarding you with affection to make up for the tension. She might even be extra clingy, holding onto you a little tighter than usual, trying to feel that connection again. It’s her way of saying she’s sorry without using words, because deep down, she wants to feel the warmth between you two again.

4. Over-the-Top Distraction Tactics

If the argument is weighing on her, Jinx might try to distract you both from the uncomfortable tension by doing something completely unexpected. She could start playing a ridiculous game, break into a silly song, or suggest doing something completely off the wall—like running through the streets with sparklers or having an impromptu Nerf gun war. Anything to pull you away from the argument and get back to a playful, carefree vibe. While she’s not directly addressing the issue, she’s hoping to shift the mood, so it’s not all bad energy between you two.

5. Insecurity Creeps In

Although Jinx often masks her insecurities with humor, after an argument, she’s more likely to feel them come to the surface. She might start doubting if you actually want to be with her, or if her actions pushed you away. You might catch her sitting quietly, biting her lip, staring off into space. If you approach her during these moments, she’ll likely try to brush it off, saying something like, “I just—I don’t know if I did something wrong, but if I did, I’m sorry. I don’t want to mess this up.” The more vulnerable side of her emerges after an argument, even if she doesn’t fully express it.

6. Stubbornly Avoiding the Conversation, Then Cracking

At first, Jinx might avoid talking about the argument. She’ll act like everything’s fine, but it’s pretty clear it’s not. You’ll probably notice her getting quiet, picking fights over little things, or trying to pretend nothing happened. But as time passes and the weight of the unresolved issue starts to wear on her, she’ll crack. It might be in a sudden outburst or her just sitting down next to you, looking up at you with puppy eyes and mumbling, “So… about earlier… I don’t like it when we fight. I hate it.” She’ll want to resolve things but struggles to take the first step toward healing the tension.

7. Acts Like Nothing’s Wrong, but It’s Obvious

If Jinx is really unsure of how to fix things, she’ll probably try to pretend like everything’s normal and continue on with her day. However, her body language will tell the truth. She’ll avoid eye contact, fidget with her fingers, or act a bit more on edge than usual. If she’s feeling especially vulnerable, she might even start teasing you more than normal, trying to act like herself, but you can tell something’s off. “Hey! I know you’re still mad, but I’m totally not avoiding you, okay?” she’ll say, overcompensating in her usual, chaotic way.

8. Small, Tender Gestures

When she finally does acknowledge the argument and the hurt between you, Jinx will try to make it up to you in small, tender ways. She’ll give you an extra kiss on the cheek, hold your hand when you’re walking somewhere, or leave you sweet notes (written in her typically wild handwriting) around the house. She might even bring you something she thinks will cheer you up—like a random gadget, a weird snack, or something quirky she knows you’ll find amusing. Her love language is often unorthodox, but the tenderness behind these small gestures shows that she truly cares.

9. Dramatic Overcompensation

Jinx, being Jinx, might go to extremes to make up for the argument. If she feels like she really messed up, she’ll act overly dramatic to try and win you over again. “What can I do to make it up to you? I’ll give you a thousand fireworks, an entire circus, and a monkey that plays the violin if I have to!” Her over-the-top antics are her way of showing you that she’s sorry in the only way she knows how: big and loud. You’ll probably laugh, but it’ll be a laugh full of affection because you know she’s truly trying her best.

10. Reassurance (Through Humor)

As much as Jinx struggles with vulnerability, she’ll reassure you in her own quirky way that everything is okay. She’ll joke around, trying to lighten the mood. “Hey, look, I’m still here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’re not getting rid of me that easily!” she’ll say with a grin, a mischievous glint in her eye. She might even pull a funny face or make an absurd noise to show you that she’s not letting the argument get in the way of her feelings for you. It’s her unique way of letting you know that, despite everything, she’s not going anywhere.

11. Physical Affection to Reinforce Her Feelings

Jinx knows that words can be hard for her, but she’s not afraid to show you her affection through touch after an argument. She might grab your hand and hold it for a while, lay her head on your shoulder, or give you a big hug and refuse to let go. Her body language will speak louder than anything else, trying to reassure you that the love she feels for you hasn’t wavered despite the argument.

After an argument, Jinx will always show that she deeply cares, even if she struggles with finding the right words or way to fix things. Whether it’s through her chaotic antics, physical affection, or more vulnerable moments, she’ll do her best to make things right because, despite her wildness, she values the relationship and doesn’t want to lose the connection you share.

#x reader #jinx posting #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx league of legends #jinx imagine #jinx lol #jinx #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #leauge of legends #headcannons #imagine

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weaselle · 2 days ago

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It's almost thanksgiving, and I want to talk about dogs and bones.

It took me forever to understand why I couldn't give bones to our dogs because no one ever explained it, and i was like "but wolves and coyotes and foxes and things totally eat bones all the time, i've seen tons of footage of wild canines eating bones" and it never made sense. But now it does and i want to help anyone who is where i was with this

There are 3 reasons not to give your dog bones

First mother canines (and any other relatives present) typically do actually demonstrate for puppies the proper way to eat bones, which can vary from prey type to prey type. For example, bird bones can be tricky and dangerous, even the raw ones splinter more easily because of the way they are structured to be semi-hollow. Wild canines get shown how to eat these things. You can't really do that for your dog.

Second bones can have unknown microbes and parasites, and between that and bone ingestion being a skill check, now and then wild canines do actually die of complications from either eating the wrong bone, or eating a bone wrong.

But the MAIN reason is - if the bones are cooked it changes them.

see, most raw bones tend to break the same way safety glass breaks, into crumbly chunks, like so

but COOKING the bones changes their physical composition

so after you cook a bone, if you break it, it's much more likely to give you long sharp shapes like this

So a wolf, or your dog, munching happily on whatever, a deer bone, is getting crumbly chunks of bone kibble. But if you cook that same bone they're going to be swallowing thin sharp splinters of deadly bone instead.

Yes, a lot of dogs can slowly digest bone material, but if a single sharp shard pierces your dog's stomach, or gods forbid their intestine! before the bone starts to melt enough... then their digestive enzymes and waste material (basically acid sewage) can get into the rest of their body. This can cause lots of bad problems right up to causing terminal sepsis -- which is where your body tries so hard to kill a bad infection that it kills your own organs. Like if those bees in Japan were trying to kill a hornet so hard they made it too hot for the bees to live either.

Even the surgery to fix it is sometimes the cause of death for a dog; it's invasive surgery, no matter how careful they are it's still another opportunity for infection to get a direct line into the core of your dog. They use anesthesia to keep the dog asleep during surgery and the chances of the dog straight up dying from the anesthesia itself are low... but they aren't zero. And it's not like an anatomy book in there, it's a messy difficult thing to do, cutting and stitching around in there.

Your dog can eat a cooked bone and be fine 19 times and die on the 20th. Or 8th. Or 37th. Or your dog could die on the first one.

It's a total roll of the dice on their life.

Now, if you really really want to give your dog bones for reasons that aren't because you made a dinner that has bones (I did-- when Badger was a puppy I tried to give him all the parts of animals I could to make sure he was getting access to the same nutrients a wild canine would get and have all the taste and chew experiences a wild canine would have, as much as possible) that's fine.

Just do good research and either work with a butcher to get fresh good quality bones or buy bones that are meant for dogs by companies who have to worry about being sued if they sell dangerous bones. I used to get Badger these, uh, i think they were sheep kneecaps, and also some kind of rib bones, idk it was 10 years ago, but i got them from pet supply companies for dogs. Oxtails and deer trachea too. If you want to give your dog bones and animal parts, there are hundreds of ways to do that safely.

Don't give them random raw bones from preparing your dinner unless you've researched it heavily and are being specific and careful - remember, you can't demonstrate the best way to eat those bones they way momma wolf could. If giving the dog the bones from making your dinner is important to you for some reason (i could understand a life bonding thing or something, honoring the ancient pact between our kinds or whatever) then just make sure you're choosing the right dinners for that to be okay for your dog. I would say even do home experiments and crush the kind of raw bones you want to feed to your dog with shears and hammers and things to see what you're letting your dog swallow.

And don't forget you're cooking away any microbes that might be on it when you eat it, but all your dog gets is its own immune system. It is in some ways better at raw food than yours, but it's still just one lone immune system in a world full of mites and bacteria and viruses and little eggs that hatch inside your body. Cooking kills all those things, but makes the bones dangerous for dogs. So, make sure you're getting high quality bones, like from a place you'd feel safe eating the meat from raw, we're talking sushi quality meat. Don't just give your dog random raw bones from your dinner, unless you have done the work to make sure you're doing it safely

BUT ESPECIALLY DO NOT GIVE YOUR DOG COOKED BONES

this has been a PSA, thank you

#dog #dogs #bones #thanksgiving #turkey day

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thepinkdreamganjaqueen · 3 days ago

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Limitations

Randall Kirkland x Fem!Reader

Masterlist🩷

Summary: Randall plays on your competitive nature. How far will he take it? How far will you let him?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, DubCon, manipulation, breeding, choking, gagging, swearing, mentions of violence and murder, fem!reader, romantic smut, aftercare

A/N: Finally!!! It is time!! I know y'all have been itching for this new Randall fic, I’ve been grinding hard on this, I hope it doesn’t disappoint. I love y'all! I love Randall!!! Thank you all so so much for your support! It truly means the world to me and motivates me to do better every day and put out more fics! As always, I’m open to comments, questions, requests, etc. or if you ever just want to reach out, say, "Hey", and chat, I am all for it!! *kisses*

W/C: 9.2k

You didn’t want to walk past the bus this morning. Every time you did, you felt his eyes on you. You could feel them traipse across your skin, observing your every curve, how you walked, the way your hips swayed, and how your hair bounced behind you as you walked. You had gotten used to the town, as used to it as someone could get, you supposed. But you never could bring yourself to come to terms with your feelings, feelings you weren’t sure how to address, or what to even call them. Was it envy, lust, longing? You’ve never even spoken to him, but you felt his eyes bore into you every morning as you walked past to the diner.

Some days, you wondered what would happen if you stopped to speak with him. What would you say? Every morning you saw him from your peripheral vision as he turned his head to follow your path. Wanting to look back, but eyes still looking straight ahead. You never looked back, unsure of what you'd see, what you wanted to see. The one and only person you thought you had figured out, but too scared to be direct or approach. You stole a few glances at times at the diner or by the farm. You often remarked at how handsome he was, shying away from those lustful thoughts, but always going back to them once it got dark and you were alone.

You kept to yourself most days, only chatting with folks in passing at the diner and steering far from colony house. You had heard stories, and gossip passed through tight lips from person to person. You were not one to indulge but still remained vigilant with an ear to listen. Randall, the guy they kicked out and forced to live on the bus. Some say he threatened Donna. Some say he held people at gunpoint. Nothing surprising, nothing you probably wouldn’t do yourself given the chance. This place had a way of messing with people, getting into their heads, making people mad in every sense of the word. Some days, you didn’t know if what you were seeing was real, and were unsure if anyone else had similar experiences but kept to yourself all the same due to your own distrust in others.

Day in and day out, you felt defeated, not sure if you were even really alive. You walked through the day in a slump, wondering if anything is real, if this was real or if it was a dream… and what of the life you knew before. Was that the dream? You had gone numb, wracking your mind over the details and inconsistencies of the day-to-day happenings. Not wanting to die, not willing to, but not sure if you would or if that even meant anything anymore. Was this what death was? Did we all die in car crashes and this is our fucked-up purgatory? What is survival, really? In this situation, it was hard to define.

That’s why you found yourself thinking of Randall often, yet too shy or scared to approach him, only in your mind's eye did he linger. Not knowing what he’s thinking or going through personally. You were remiss to your thoughts and thoughts alone. They drove you to the edge of delirium nightly. Clutching your pillow over your face, screaming to drown out the sounds of the creatures that knocked upon your windows and doors. Always trying to find a way in, slowly waiting, watching. You felt helpless and alone often escaping in the thought of his touch, how his hands would feel on your skin, how soft his lips must feel, how they’d taste. It was the last piece of sanity you could hold onto every night before the nightmare became too close of a reality. Instead, you fantasized about Randall and turned it into a dream.

You reluctantly headed out the door later than usual today, unwilling to brood between four walls. You threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading out the door and to the diner. Before arriving, you could hear commotion in the distance. There was a group of people standing near the entrance of the diner arguing about supplies and food. The crowd seemed rowdy and questionable.

You stopped at the edge of where the bus stood with its tires shot out a safe distance away, watching as the township fought and argued. You scoffed and sneered. Tired of how the people ran things here, tired of the rules in a place with no natural law. It was ridiculous to you, a noble effort that just somehow still wasn’t enough. People are still being killed, people are still lost, there’s no escaping and they’re fighting over supplies. Your eyes rolled so hard you felt the nerves stretch behind your eye socket causing a slight headache.

“Ugh”, you audibly spoke. “My sentiments exactly” a voice said from beside you. You shuddered at the sound of the voice, deep and gravelly. You quickly looked up realizing Randall had stepped off the bus and stood next to you. Suddenly you found your lungs had tightened in your chest lifting a lump into your throat leaving you unable to speak or even breath for a moment. You observed his expression, aloof yet fixed and focused. You could see behind his eyes, a darkness softened by disappointment and fear. His eyes looked on toward the diner as he snickered.

“Can you believe what they’re doing? Rationing food now?” He spoke again. You watched as his mouth moved when he spoke, how his lips curled over his teeth, how his dark rimmed mossy green eyes flickered with speech. His hands gesturing toward the diner, looked rough and abrasive, covered in veins that crawled up his forearms and disappeared under his flannel shirt. He was so remarkably handsome you thought to yourself, blushing at the thoughts that began to fill your head once more.

You found yourself trying to respond, to think of something to say. His stature alone was intimidating, he towered over you leaning against the bus with his arms crossed looking at you under a furrowed brow. Those eyes, burning you. You could feel his gaze wash over you like molten lava. You could feel heat begin brimming to your cheeks as your whole body went flush and mind blank.

“Someone should do something” was all you could manage to say. You spoke angrily and out of frustration in a mere whisper, but truly you thought, someone really should do something, anything, literally anything. Randall’s eyes remained fixed on you as you looked onward towards the diner, your attention caught by louder yelling.

You watched as Boyd broke up the crowd, unable to hear what was being said but seeing his arms wave side to side palms down as if it would calm anyone. The crowd murmured as they dispersed, sharing looks of shame and frustration with one another. “Come on” Randall said reaching for your hand. It was soft, warm, and completely swallowed yours within his grip. “What are you doing?” you questioned. The crowd had already broken and cleared out at this point. “We’re going to do something about it” he whispered in a hushed voice. He pulled you with him towards the back side of the diner, you followed effortlessly. His confidence surged through his grip onto your palm. Kinetic energy leaking from his skin to yours, exhilarating your senses and emboldening your mood. Finally, someone with an assertive nature, you thought.

Randall kept eyes on Boyd and the few that lingered as he led you to the backside of the diner, peeking around the corner as he did. You both watched as Boyd, Donna, and a few others left towards the sheriff station. Slowly disappearing into the distance. You felt his hand reach past your waist and brush against your t-shirt lifting it slightly allowing a draft of cold air to touch your skin. You shuddered at the feeling of his forearm sweeping against you, only for a second. He was warm, his skin, so soft.

He had reached across to open the door you stood next to. He then smirked and said “after you” outstretching his hand, guiding you into the diner's kitchen. You nodded taking the lead but not fully sure what you were doing there. Upon entering the kitchen, you noticed it’s disarray. There were various dishes, cans, and boxes, strewn about and stacked high. The town’s folk had tried to gather and take what they could, anything they could get their hands on. Perhaps a few even got to take some home, but this was what was left.

Several jars of canned goods, boxed goods, spices, and various pickled fruits and veggies. You imagined the work it took to prep all this who had done it and how long it must have taken. You slide the boxes over with your foot that were haphazardly stacked near the door where Randall entered behind you. He slid past you reaching for an empty box and began filling it with items of his own personal preference. “Grab what you can carry and whatever else you want; we’ll take it over to your place” he said firmly in a curt almost whisper.

You looked on as your mind fought with itself. You hadn’t expected this, to take things for yourself. The idea of it, however much you rationalized it, agreed with it and wanted to, still felt wrong. A tinge of guilt swept over you. Randall, who had his back turned, had turned to face you. Seeing your apprehension he spoke. “Thought you wanted to do something about it?” He said playfully jesting toward you with his elbow, easing your tension a bit. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t want to do it, you did, it’s more that you were afraid of being caught, what would happen then? What would they do?

Truly you thought you didn’t really care for anybody in this town, you didn’t know them on any personal level, you weren’t even sure if they were truly who they said they were. Everyone was out for themselves at this point, proven this morning as you approached the diner and seeing the rowdy crowd, and now, looking around the kitchen and seeing boxes strewn about and the mess they had left behind in their haste. They were all fending for themselves why shouldn’t you?

Randall had set his box down with a thunk as the box hit the table. You could hear the clinks of the cans and jars that rustled within. The bulk of his content being canned meats and veggies, various soups, stocks and spices. He had grabbed a box handing it to you. “Here. If we’re going to survive, we have to beat them to it. You saw them out there, they just didn’t get away with it” a mischievous smile crept across your lips. After all, you did say something should be done.

He met your smile with one of his own, a devilish grin widened at the corners of his lips and his eyes narrowed “atta girl! Almost didn’t think you had it in you” he chuckled as he turned and proceeded to fill his box. Your cheeks flushed immediately, a balmy heat filling your face. A mixture of feelings brimmed at that sentiment. You tried dissecting your emotions while grabbing items from the shelves. What had he thought of you? You hadn’t thought of that until just now. What did Randall think of you, about you? Did he think you meek and mousey? You supposed you could be perceived that way but truly you were bold, you were passionate, stubborn, and would never back down from a challenge, especially if someone thought you couldn’t or wouldn’t.

What did he mean he didn’t think you had it in you? Sure, you hesitated, but only for a moment. But him saying “atta girl” almost made it all ok. You wanted him to say more, to give you that praise, to give you the attention you hadn’t realized until now, you were so starved for. His voice penetrated your psyche in an undefined pleasurable way. You felt the urge to show him who you really were, after all, he didn’t know anything about you sans what he could observe in passing. You had never held a conversation with him prior to today. You surmised that maybe others spoke about you and he had heard. You didn’t doubt it, it's how you heard about him.

What had you heard about him that wasn’t true or was a misrepresented truth in some way. You wanted to know more about him. You always had but fear held you back. What an opportunity today had presented you with. He was the only person in this place that intrigued you, the only person you felt you could possibly relate to, the only person who seemed… real.

Randall had stopped grabbing things, remarking about his full box being a good haul then turning his attention to you as you continued meticulously picking things out. You could feel that familiar feeling, the one you felt every morning as you passed by the bus at first light. His eyes were on you. You could feel them wander your curves as you bent over to look at a lower shelf or kneeled to grab something. His eyes laid upon you like a soft touch, caressing every inch with his vision.

The feelings you had fought every morning quickly presented themselves at the forefront of your mind once again. Today, you let them flourish, examining them closely. Today you would find out what it was you felt. You could feel your body tremble at the thought of him touching you. Your hands shook grabbing items as lustful thoughts overtook your brain making your focus almost nonexistent.

You found yourself easing into his gaze. Calculating your movements to emphasize your body for his view, arching your back, bending your knees. You reached for a high shelf, an item perched just out of your reach. You looked over your shoulder peeking through strands of hair that fell about your face, meeting his smoldering gaze. He was leaned against the counter, arms crossed with one leg crossed over the other. He nonchalantly stood, walking towards you. You tried reaching once more, inching on your feet when you felt his presence behind you.

The space between your bodies was warm and quickly got warmer. An arm outstretched, reaching over your head and grabbing the can from the top shelf you had been reaching for. You could feel the flannel from his shirt brush against your arm. You turned to thank him, falling back onto your heels and looking up. He stood so close to you still, you could smell his clothes, a mix of ozonic and possibly leather. Perhaps from sleeping on the bus you pondered. It was hypnotic.

He took another step closer, enclosing the space between you. A lump lifted into your chest as your breathing hitched. You met his eyes, darkened by the shadows within the room, his face only lit from the bit of daylight that streamed in from the dining area and small back window. You observed his face, lamenting internally how beautiful he was, how soft his features were. His angled jaw, cheek bones, and dimpled chin catching light and emphasizing some of his most beautiful features. The kindness you could see in his face behind his brooding exterior. There was a layer deeper you couldn’t see but feel.

The air in the room felt thicker, harder to breath. You could feel each breath you took as it lifted your chest to meet his sternum, pressing firmly against him. He looked down at you with a sly smile “is this what you wanted?” He spoke in a low raspy tone. You looked down seeing the can in his hand. “Mhmm. Thank you” you said shaking your head in affirmation and looking into his eyes. He smiled coyly and handed you the can. With his other arm, he grabbed your shoulder and ran his fingers down your arm gently, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “We should probably hurry up and get out of here, so we don’t get caught too”.

However true his words were, it was the farthest thought from your mind. All you could think about was how his breath felt on your ear, how each syllable danced across your skin ever so gently, cascading down your neck. How his hand felt on your shoulder. How firm his grip was, how the sensation of his fingertips still lingered upon your skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. You all but melted at the slightest of touch. An ache deep within your core, a feeling so intense it couldn’t be ignored. However, he was right. It was best to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.

Earlier, he had said that he would bring the items with you to your place. Your mind raced at the possibilities. You tried to quell those thoughts; they ran rampant within the confines of your mind. Playing out scenes of all the different ways you wanted him, the things you wanted to do to him. You felt your heart race within your chest, your palms got clammy and for once in your time here in the township, fear wasn’t at the forefront of your mind.

You nodded in agreement as he stepped aside allowing you space to finish grabbing what you needed. You had found the last item that you topped your box off with before setting it down. A can of fruit medley with extra cherries you found hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. “Ready?” He asked standing from his aloof leaning position he watched you from. “Let's go!” You whispered excitedly. You grabbed your box when Randall reached out “I got it” he said matter of factly, stacking your box on top of his and carrying them both. “Just keep an eye out, yeah?” He gestured nodding his head toward the door. “Of course,” you agreed.

You slowly open the door peeking around the corner looking for any signs of activity or prying eyes. Everything looked clear, you motioned with a wave of your hand to Randall indicating it was safe. You both carefully made your way back to your place in the township. You opted to stick to the tree line, hoping that no one would see you as you quickly made your way home. It must have only been a couple blocks away, but the feeling of excitement and the thrill of the entire situation had you giddy. You felt as if you floated home.

You must have spent more time at the diner than you realized. You are very fortunate, you thought, that no one came back and caught you and Randall. Would they put you in a cell at the sheriff’s station for a night or would they put you in the box? A fleeting thought. For it did not matter, no one did catch you, and you made it to your home safely just before dark.

You scrambled to open the door and let Randall inside as quickly and unnoticeably as possible. Still worried someone would see, but knowing it was unlikely an issue as most were probably already inside as that familiar nightly bell began to ring in the distance.

He had carried those two boxes the entire way, and the fact that he even offered was so kind and gentlemanly. You felt that the things people have said about him and the way they felt about him were wrong, that maybe they didn’t give him a chance. He was actually very sweet, albeit intimidating for sure. But that didn’t scare you, it only furthered your curiosity.

You regretted not taking the time to approach him sooner instead of waiting for him to approach you on a chance encounter. However it may have happened, you were thankful that it eventually did. If anything, just having him around and being in his presence made you feel less alone, less afraid. As a matter of fact, for most of your time here you weren’t sure you were even alive. But with him, this is the most alive you've ever felt since you’ve been here.

Such a simple act, a small way to fight back and to resist. He made you feel exhilarated and validated. In the short time you had spent together, you already felt like you wanted him around more. It wasn’t just the lust, even though those thoughts danced freely beneath the surface, but you felt a kind of connection with him.

It was unexplainable, maybe irrational even, you couldn’t explain it except for that you felt wanted in his presence, accepted. Something you had yet to feel here. It only drew you to him further. There were sudden realizations of unspoken truths between you two. One, you knew he wanted you; you had already known, you supposed for some time. Only now was it clear. Two, he knew you knew. And three, you wanted him as well.

He rushed past you as you pushed the door closed behind him while checking that the talisman was secure. Randall entered your home, setting the boxes upon the table just within the opening to the dining room area, then immediately returned his attention back to you. You went to move but felt locked in his gaze. You watched helplessly as he walked towards you, each step inching closer.

You turned to speak. You had a question still burning within you, you sought clarification from his snide commentary from earlier. “What did you mean by you didn’t think I had it in me?” You asked pointedly. You were curious. “Huh?” Randall spoke, stopping mid step halfway to where you stood. He paused to think for a moment. “I didn’t peg you for defiance” he mocked. “But I guess for a second, I thought you might’ve been like the others. Self-righteous, goody two shoes…” he trailed off as he began to move closer once more.

“But I guess I was wrong. You don’t back down from anything do you?” He said playfully looking down at you as the space between you became less, once more pushing himself against you. “Unh uh” you murmured with broken speech as you shook your head from side to side. So, he does see you? You thought. You went to move away when his hand grasped yours bringing your attention right back to him. You froze staring into his eyes as he spoke, trying to hear his words but being so distracted by him, it became difficult to decipher the meaning and context of what he said.

“My turn to ask a question” he said grasping both of your hands within his, gently rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands from your knuckles to your wrists in slow circles. You nodded unable to speak, awaiting his question. What could he possibly ask? You would tell him anything. In this moment he held you prisoner, you couldn’t move if you wanted to. He held a gravity within his core so powerful you couldn’t help but be pulled in.

“Why don’t you ever look back?” He whispered. “What are you afraid of?” He spoke once more looking into your eyes examiningly. A loaded question for sure, the duality of the question alone knowing where you were, seemed almost oxymoronic. However, you knew what he meant. It wasn’t about this place; it was about you. You, yourself hadn’t truly come to terms with it, not knowing your own reasoning for why you never did. He leaned in slightly further, putting literal pressure on you. You fought hard internally to answer but felt it impossible. How could you focus when he stood so close to you. Your mind felt like mush, processing thoughts became the hardest of chores. Why must he put you on the spot like this? You thought.

“I-I don’t know” you muttered, still searching for an answer. “Were you scared of me? What people say?” He said leaning in closer. “Hell no!” You snapped back. “You’re the only person around here I actually think is real!” You replied without thinking. “It's okay.” He spoke softly, reaching his hand to grab a lock of hair from atop your shoulder, twirling it in his fingers as he spoke. You were now flat against the wall in the hallway near the dining room where he had you pinned. “I know you watch me too” he said as he leaned in to whisper in your ear once more. Your chest heaved as you inhaled deeply. Your mind raced as your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Had he seen you watching him at the farm on occasion, or at the diner? You suppose that obviously he had for him to mention that, but there’s no way he can know how you truly felt. The things you thought about him on a nightly basis when you were alone in your bed. The things you had imagined him doing to you as you gingerly slipped your hand beneath the waistband of your underwear to drown out the screaming outside with your own. Would he blush? He was so confident, so sure of himself. You wondered.

The familiar nightly rapping began at your doors as the creatures descended from the woods. Randall would be staying with you tonight. A fleeting thought so glaringly obvious yet it needed its own space and attention for you to acknowledge before it left once more, leaving a feeling of excitement and joy behind.

The noise had broken your concentration on each other as you both looked towards the direction of the sound. The voices murmured beyond the space of your home. No doubt saying the same things they did nightly, although tonight you had a feeling that they wouldn’t be much of a bother to you. Randall had a way of holding your attention, and he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Randall returned his attention to you once more. “Looks like I’ll have to stay here tonight” he said confidently with a smirk that crept across his lips, lifting on one side. “Is there somewhere we can go in here where we won't be bothered by...” he trailed off as he gestured toward the door. “Yeah” you said clearing your throat. “Follow me”.

You led him to the bedroom upstairs. It provided some solace from the noise but it wasn’t completely unavoidable. It was the only bedroom in the house and the only space furthest from the door's downstairs. "We can sit here”, you motioned to the bed as you sat upon its edge. He followed you through the door sitting right next to you on the bed. The pressure from his weight on the bed caused you to lean into him, once again pulled by his gravity. You let yourself slip closer, blaming the motions of the mattress as it flexed. You wanted so badly to just melt into him, for him to hold you, and for you to lay your head upon his chest. He felt so close yet so far.

You crossed your legs and turned to face him. Looking up at him behind locks of brown waves that fell in front of your face. You motioned to move them, brushing them behind your ear giving him your full attention. He was facing you as well as you searched to find the words to speak. “You don’t even know my name” you said suddenly. A thought that never surfaced but only came straight out without a filter. Without You acknowledging it or accepting it. But you were right, you didn’t even think he knew your name or much else about you.

“Y/n” he spoke defiantly. “Everyone knows everything about everyone around here, or at least they like to think they do. But yes, I do know your name y/n. I probably know a lot more about you than you think. I can tell a lot about a person just by watching them. Let’s call it a newly developed skill since living on the bus, I’ve become very observant. I also know that you know me, or are aware of me and for sure know my name considering the way word travels around here” he said cheekily while letting his eyes wander your body in earnest. A dimly lit room where you were closer to him than ever. He took his time looking at every aspect of you as if you were under a microscope.

“I'm not afraid of you”. You spoke. “Yeah, I hear what other people say, but I don’t know them and I don’t trust them. I don’t think I ever will. The only thing that frightens me, is this place. But I’ll be damned if I just sit around and do nothing. If anything, those people had the right idea! No one here is safe, it's all security theatre! We might as well just fend for ourselves. Whatever Boyd is doing, is clearly not working.”

You felt as if you could speak safely and openly with Randall. You quickly discovered that you really enjoyed his presence, perhaps it was just from being alone for so long but you truly felt connected to him in some way, you didn't know why and you didn’t really try to figure that out. For now, it was beyond your comprehension and you just found yourself going with the flow. You reminded yourself that this is probably the first time in a long time that you felt anything other than dread.

“I see” he said. “Sounds like you’re just as tired of this place and the people here as I am.” He spoke once more. “But I bet you wouldn’t do what needed to be done if it were too much. Even to just forget for a while” he jested. “What makes you think I wouldn’t? what gives you that impression?” You asked looking directly into his eyes. You truly wanted an answer. Did he think this was some kind of game? Of course, you would do what needed to be done in any respect or in any manner. Whether it be to forget for a night or to save everyone or anything in between. You scoffed once more at his sentiment; it was almost funny to you as much as it was slightly insulting. He continued teasing you in this way, little did he know, you liked it. He probably did know.

“I don’t know. I look at you and I see someone with good intentions who wants to do what it takes or what is needed but beneath the surface I feel like, you’re too good, too timid, and too shy. Not that that is at all a bad thing, it’s hard to find someone with a heart as good as yours in a place as terrible as this.” You sat there, mouth agape, remarking at his words. Sure, there was some truth to it but you felt the same could apply to him. You could see he put off this hard exterior shell, but in reality, beneath the surface he was scared like the rest of us and hated to be alone. His rough demeanor was only a way to hide that. You saw right through it. However, there he went again thinking you were someone who wasn’t capable or brave enough. Whether he truly though that or not, you would show him.

“You think so?” You retorted deviously. You could feel the tension in the room as a thickness once again lifted in the air. The room felt hot and the air felt heavy. A surge of heat rushed to your core and you shivered slightly. Randall reached a hand out, placing it gently on your thigh and began tracing his fingers lightly from your knee to your hip, then grabbing your leg and pulling you closer to him.

The screams outside got louder as they approached and then moved on catching your attention, and drawing your eyes from him once more. You felt his hand lift from your thigh to your face, directing your gaze back to him. "I can help you tonight, and you could help me”. He whispered, his face was soft, he seemed genuine as he caressed your cheek, watching and waiting for your reaction. You looked on, eye brows raised. You knew he could. In fact, you so badly wanted him to. This was just all happening so fast and your mind warbled trying to play catch up from the whiplash of a day you've had. The actions of the day swirling within your mind, unable to grasp at any single particular thought. “But I bet you won’t”. He said with a sly smile in a toying manner.

His words spilled out of his mouth in a cascade of sarcasm. Thought he knew you, you thought, laughing internally. He definitely did and he was using a weakness he had figured out in his favor. Perhaps there were good intentions behind his teasing, you found yourself not caring. He had just unknowingly awoken an animal within you that had been asleep for so long. A primal urge washed over you as you rose to the occasion. He wanted to help you forget? Oh no, you would be helping him tonight! If you were anything, you sure as hell were not a coward. Your eyes narrowed as a calculating smile swept across your lips. You fixed your gaze upon him, examining him. What is it he should want you to do? You could think of a couple things.

You stood letting his hand slide from your thigh as you rose. His eyes followed you with that smirk still lingering on his lips. You stepped in front of him, nudging your legs between his knees, spreading them apart as you leaned in closer. Placing a hand atop each knee and kneeling further in until you were eye level with him. “In what way would you want me to help you tonight, Randall?” you smiled innocently, mere inches from his face. You looked him up and down, stopping at his lips then meeting his eyes again. Shrugging your shoulders as if still waiting for his reply. You felt the muscles beneath your hands tense as his smile softened.

Randall slid one hand from your shoulder, up to your neck, stopping to caress your cheek. His eyes darted from yours to your lips before his hand slid gingerly behind your head to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You lifted your hands from his knees and placed them around his neck as his lips met yours in a fiery lock of passion. You immediately raised your knees on either side of his legs, straddling him and enveloping yourself into his kiss. Your heads tossing back and forth as you breathed sharply through your nose. His tongue heartily exploring your mouth. You pulled his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it before biting his soft pillowy lips and returning to the kiss with fervor.

Soft moans escaped your lips with every breath you took between kisses. You ran your hand over his chest feeling every curve and definition of his build as he used both hands to pull you closer onto him. Grasping your backside, a cheek squeezed in each hand tightly. You slid a hand under his flannel and he quickly shrugged it off, returning his attention to you. You were so enveloped in the feeling of him touching you. How long it had been you've waited for this, and how nice it felt. Your nightly fantasies becoming reality. You almost forgot what led you here, you didn’t care. In this moment you were engulfed in Randall, and it was the most content you’ve felt.

Randall wrapped his fingers in your hair, holding you to him as he feverishly attacked you with kisses of passion. Heavy breathing, teeth clanking, sloppy, messy, fucking fantastic. You had been slowly grinding on him as you continued kissing him. Moving your hips gently forward and back. You could feel his breath quicken as he began guiding you with his hands. Still grasping your backside, pushing and pulling you harder onto him. You could feel the wetness pool in your panties as you felt his manhood throbbing near his thigh. Only brushing against it slightly. You could feel Randall suck air through his teeth in a hiss as you continued to grind onto his length with his help.

He quickly tightened his grip, flipping you over onto the bed and standing in front of you. You took the free moment to remove your shirt, pulling it over your head, letting your hair cascade onto your bare shoulders, back, and chest. He remarked at your breasts for a moment before fumbling to kick off his shoes and undo his pants. You quickly reached out to stop him. “Let me help” you said in the same playfully teasing manner he had done so earlier. He grinned and put his hands up. “You’re right.” He said then gestured “please”.

You chuckled lightly as you got down from the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of him. You looked up at him as you undid his belt. He looked on approvingly, watching as you disrobed him. The outline of his length against his pants was prominent. You rushed to pull his jeans down, then his boxers, revealing his manhood. It snapped up with force. It was quite substantial in length as well as girth, it throbbed a bruised red, glistening at the tip. You felt your core ache and your mouth water.

You grasped him at the base, taking hold of him while looking up at him. You wanted to see his face when you took him in. How smug would he be then? His face still carried that sly smile as if he thought he was in control. You gently licked the precum from his tip, eliciting a slight grunt from him as he reeled at the heat of your mouth upon him. How easy it was to break him you thought.

You continued looking up at him as you danced your tongue along his frenulum, encircling it with your tongue before slightly sucking just the tip and stopping to see his reaction. He moved to lift up his shirt, you slid your hand underneath the space he provided. You traced the veins that wound their way along his v line. His skin was so soft, yet firm. His build was so athletic and toned. Touching him made you dizzy, he was just so perfect, and tonight, you’d make him whimper.

He looked down at you, locking eyes as you opened your mouth taking him in fully. Doing your best to relax your throat and accept him, taking him in as deeply as he could go until your nose hit his mound. You could feel his hands quickly grasp your head, gathering your hair into a ponytail, held by his hands. He immediately moved to hold you there. Your hands pressed against each thigh on either side as you fought to hold your breath while your throat hitched and lurched, gagging on him. Saliva began leaking out from both corners of your lips as your face turned red and spots began to fill your vision. Tears streaming down your cheeks.

Just then he let you go, pulling you back before he could bust. You breathed in deeply, catching your breath, as he held your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks between his grip, pouting your lips. “So, fucking beautiful” he said between gritted teeth before returning his grip to your hair, gathering it in one fistful and holding his shirt up with the other. Before you finish catching your breath, your mouth was on him once again. Sliding his length in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat every time. You forced yourself to take him all in every time, to gag on him. You could feel his cock spasm, leaking a salty precum. Each time you felt it, a gasp would escape his lips.

He took a moment, letting go of your hair to take his shirt off before returning his grip to your head. He met each motion of your mouth with thrusts of his own as he threw his head back in ecstasy. Faint moans escaped his lips each time you took him in fully. You watched as he looked back down, his mouth open, gritting his teeth with each inhale. His eyes looked on innocently, pupils enlarged, eyebrows raised, meeting in the middle as he continued between watching you and rolling his head back. His thrusts quickened as he grabbed each side of your face before pulling you away.

You looked up at him with glistening puffy lips, wiping at the corners of your mouth as he pulled you up, meeting you with a sloppy breathy kiss. Your breasts pressed firmly against his sternum, he reached down to squeeze and paw at them with one hand as he held you close at the small of your back with the other. Your tongues glided against each other, swirling in and out of your mouths until his hands firmly pushed you back onto the bed. His face hardened once more with that smirk that he held when he was confident, when he had control.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as he gently yet forcefully undid your jeans and pulled them off of you before sliding his own off, kicking them onto the floor next to him followed by his boxers. He then gently placed a finger from each hand under the waistband of your panties. Slowly he wiggled them off of you, revealing you fully to him. You lifted yourself slightly so that he could pull them off. He carelessly tossed them aside before leaning down to kiss you once more. The cold air down below sent shivers up your spine, but warmth quickly brushed up against you and you felt yourself buck into him almost instinctively.

Your back arched as he slowly peppered kisses on his way down. Starting from your neck leading down your collarbones to your chest where he paid particular attention to your breasts giving them the full attention they deserved. He squeezed them tightly while lightly flicking his tongue over your nipple. The cold breeze from his breath intensifying the pleasure. You could feel your breath hitch once more, you ached for him, needed so badly for him to be inside you. You could feel yourself dripping for him the anticipation killing you mentally and physically.

He continued on kissing down your abdomen, laying a kiss on your belly button, kissing each hip before following it down to your mound where he gently nipped at you. You gasped at the feeling as he slid both hands under each side of each thigh, pulling you towards his face. You felt your breathing quicken as his face slowly disappeared behind your mound. Only his eyes left peeking over watching your every reaction as he slowly licked you from top to bottom. Licking up every drop of your slick. You tried hard to focus on him, the feeling of the pleasure. Your head snapped back as his tongue pressed inside you. Tasting you fully.

You let out a cry, the feeling of his tongue moving in and out of you, driving you to the brink of no return. You grabbed his head with both hands pulling him closer to you grinding into his face. He pulls away, replacing his tongue with two fingers and quickly moving his lips to your throbbing clit. He began working his fingers in and out of you as he flicked your clit gingerly with his tongue, sucking it gently between his lips. You bucked into his grip. You could feel his mouth form a smile on you as you tried so hard to grind on him, pulling his face into you once more. He continued on, fucking you even harder with his fingers, you threw your head back once again, moaning loudly in ecstasy. You felt as if you were about to explode you tried to close your legs but he used both hands to forcefully push them back open and hold them there while continuing to suck your clit furiously. He watched as your face contorted nearing your end.

Before you could feel yourself approaching your climax, he pulled his face away, hopping up onto his knees and pushing them between your legs, spreading them open and pushing himself against you. You look up at him pleadingly as his eyes hungrily wander your body. He takes his hands grabbing a top of each side of your hip, pulling you up to him and onto his thighs where he kneeled on the bed. His cock perched right at your entrance. His thumb encircled your clit, another soft moan escaping your lips. He laid you back down flat as he moved in to kiss you once more. Slowly tracing along your tongue with his, allowing you to taste yourself on him.

You once again felt him press against your entrance. Your body defied you, it was eager to know what he felt like. It bucked against him autonomously of its own accord and own volition. Not that your mind didn’t agree, it just wasn’t fast enough to keep up with your primal urge to be bred by this man. As if sensing your eagerness, he lifted one of your legs to your chest and leaned against it slowly pushing himself into you. “Fuuuck” he said in a low growl as he pushed the tip in, forcing himself in the rest of the way. You clenched around him as he slid inside if you, filling you completely. As tight as you were, he slid in so easily because of how insanely wet he made you. You looked deeply into his eyes as he lay his forehead upon yours. Your eyes, staring at him in a pleadingly innocent manner, almost as if you were ready to beg. His expression was fixed, stern, and focused. He looked so fucking sexy you thought. Buried deep inside you. “Randall, fuck!” You moaned in his ear in a strain watching as he pushed himself to the hilt within you.

You watched as his face slightly contorted with each thrust, how his lips thinned, and his jaw tightened. How every muscle in his body tensed, squeezing himself tightly against you. Each push was met with a moan from you, and a grunt from him as he picked up his pace. His length fully filling you with each push, bringing you so close to coming once again. The curve of his cock hitting your G-spot with each upward thrust, your body quivered and your legs shook beneath him.

“Feels so fucking good inside me!” You cried. “So fucking deep!” You moaned once more, arching your back and meeting each thrust of his with your own. He watched how you reacted and when he thought you were really enjoying yourself, he continued those actions. He didn’t lie, he was very observant. You put your leg down and crossed them both behind his back, pulling him to you closer as he continued pounding into you, throwing your head back into the comforter that lay halfway on the bed beneath you.

His thrusts grew more aggressive as he panted above you, resting his hand upon your throat to steady himself, squeezing slightly. He slowed, slipping out of you and rising up as you whimpered. With one hand he gently tapped your side, motioning for you to turn over. You climbed onto your knees in front of him. You were postured on all fours spread open for him. He slid his hand down your back, pushing you down onto the mattress, laying your chest flush against the now messy sheets and blankets. The comforter now laid on the floor in a pile of puffy fabric.

His hands gripped both sides of your hips as he crept closer to you on the bed, kneeling just behind you as you lay with your face buried, and your ass in the air. He swung his hand back and slapped your ass cheek with enough force it echoed with a ‘crack’ in the room and for sure left a red print of his hand. You jumped, yelping in surprise. He quickly rubbed the spot he had slapped, caressing the hot stinging flesh he left behind.

His length pressed firmly against your opening. With his thumbs he grasped each cheek, spreading you open for him as he pushed himself inside once more. He felt even deeper now, you cried into the sheets as you turned your head to look back at him. He continued holding onto your hips, digging his hands into the crease between your thighs and your waist. His fingers rested just beyond your bikini line as they applied pressure, pulling you toward him. "You're such a good girl” He began fucking you furiously, each thrust with the sound of a slap. You liked it when he was rough with you.

You locked eyes with him, “use me” was all you could muster to say in your breathlessness. His eyes darkened and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You watched behind strands of damp hair as he continued thrusting into you, harder each time. His moans low an guttural. His thrusts also became faster, pounding into your slick wet cunt like an assault, pushing you further into the mattress until your legs lay flat underneath him. He held you there like that as he continued. Placing both of his hands on your shoulders. Your face buried in the sheets, you screamed each time he buried himself within you. He was so deep, it hurt. You could feel him slam into your cervixe with each push. But it felt so fucking good. One of his hands slipped to the backside of your neck where he continued pushing, leaning in closely to peck your sweat tinged forehead as his cock continued beating into your cunt. You mewled at him, still begging for more.

He quickly and suddenly rolled you on top on him. You straddled him on the bed, his cock still twitching deep inside you. “Ride me” he said demandingly. Looking directly into your eyes with a face you would never say no to. You would do anything he demanded of you. You lifted each leg to steady yourself on your feet while remaining seated, feeling him throb within you. Watching his face twitch as you shifted positions, how his eyes watched your every move.

You met his eyes and locked gaze as you slowly began to bounce on top of him. His hands rested upon your thighs, slamming you down as you went, lifting his head from the bed and throwing it back as you continued moving up and down his length. “Y/n” he whimpered as you clenched around him. He hissed, sucking in air through his gritted teeth, using his hands to help rock you forward and backwards on top of him as you rose and fell. His face softened as you used your hands to explore his body. Caressing his abdomen and chest, reaching to his face and gently dancing your fingertips over his lips, enveloping him in a passionate kiss as you continued to grind into him. You sat up once more watching his face as you rode him. He pawed at your heaving breasts as they bounced above him. Squeezing them and caressing them.

His breathing quickened and your body felt light. You could feel his body tense underneath you. Your motions slowed as you approached your own climax. Bouncing less and grinding more, his cock, hitting the right spot every time. He reached his hands to your hips, pulling you closer onto him, pushing you back and pulling you forward. You could feel yourself clenching harder around him, focusing on the feeling.

He was grunting and breathing heavy with each push against him. He locked eyes with you once more under a furrowed brow. Watching as you writhed, and moaned atop of him, because of him. He drew great pleasure in seeing you enjoy yourself. But so did you. Focusing on his face as he felt you envelope him, feeling you from the inside. “Come for me?” you said pleadingly. He nodded, squeezing your hips, rocking you back and forth on him harder. Up, down, forward, back.

You could feel yourself tighten around him as you approached the precipice of your climax. His cock swelling inside you. Your orgasm took hold, striking through your body. You quivered and convulsed on top of him crying out loudly as you came. “Fuuuck, Randall I’m coming!” Your breath hitched as your climax ravaged your body, causing you to breath as if you had just jumped into a cold lake. You froze as the convulsions sent shockwaves through your body. You could feel his cock begin to spasm inside of you as his movements slowed, holding you to him as he pumped his seed deep within your trembling cunt. A long low animalistic groan escaped his lips, almost like a growl as he came. Each twitch of his member, filling you with the warmth of his essence. His face scrunched as his body twitched beneath you with each wave of his orgasm that swept over him. You continued riding him excruciatingly slow, letting pearls of his essence leak out of you.

As both of your breathing began to slow he reached up pulling your face towards his, stealing a sloppy tired kiss. He pushed himself up, and you slid off of him laying next to him. He then reached over, turning the knob for the bedside lamp to shut it off before sliding closer to you. Laying on the pillow beside you and facing you, he intertwines his legs with yours. His still swollen member rest a top your mid thigh as he pulled you closer to him.

He pulled the comforter from the floor to cover you, looking down at you, with one finger lifting your chin for another kiss. He closed his eyes and pressed his soft lips hard against yours, breathing in through his nose. He continued kissing your face before cradling you to his chest where you held onto him raising and wrapping one leg around him, listening to his heartbeat and being lulled to sleep by it. “Thank you” you heard him whisper while kissing the top of your head as you drifted to sleep within his arms, thinking of how sweet he was and how you managed to find a sliver of happiness here. How lucky you must be, you thought. There was no greater comfort you could ask for than Randall. In a place where you were forever lost, Randall felt like home.

Tag List: @azirayphale, @degeorgetown, @iwantbloostoes, @l-o-t-t-i-e, @thekr2ken, @scarlets-phases, @the-kitty-cat-shirt, @bananapanpan, @emmy2811, @cafemirka, @kumisbaby, @ushygussy, @loving-the-dead16, @rosey1981, @ch3rrybbie, @girlinthegoldenchair, @hellolove137, @raffydesign @wowhowrudeofyou, @alllaboutangel, @lucillewinchester, @polishedsins, @pavvtron, @fallenvervain, @somerwolf13, @horpynaa,

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#randall kirkland smut #randall kirkland x fem reader #randall kirkland x you #randall kirkland x reader #randall from #randall kirkland #epix from #from fanfiction #from tv #from epix #ao3 #pink dream ganja queen #from mgm

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bluebellowl · 2 days ago

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So, I’m curious: Have you considered the families of any characters in your AUs? Like, do the twins have their parents in their lives? Do they live in town? Does Cross have siblings? What’s Cilan’s relationship with his brothers like? (I think they’re brothers. It’s been a while since I’ve played B&W.)

I haven't put much thought into that yet, no.

The twins are full grown independent adults and don't live tooo closeley with the rest of their family. They seem like the sort of people who definitely have family in their lives and visit them here and there but are most of the time too busy with their own lives to do so.

Now Cross is an interesting one because he absolutely should have family, right? The Mob family and all that. I just haven't really gotten around to thinking about it but yeah he should have his family close.

Cilan for sure has his brothers close to him. And yeah why not, they'd be punk af too. Chilli going all in on the punk mentality while Cress has the punk rock metality, the dyed hair but keeps his clothes low profile. I think he'd be a sneaky kind of punk. The triplets are close and influence each other a lot.

#submas #joseph cross #cilan chill cress #answering questions

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m00nl1ghts1vt · 3 days ago

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City of Love III - Matt Sturniolo

Requested by anon I II Parings - neighbor!Matt x fem!Reader Summary - Even though your confession leaves Matt uneasy, he still invites you to dinner at his place, that's only if you cook, of course. Warnings - strong language, fluff, W/c - 3208 A/n - Sorry for the wait, I was debating on continuing because part two didn't get that much love, but I really like the concept of City of Love 🥲 Not sure how many parts I'll be doing yet. Enjoy! Masterlist Top Liked - Pierced II Most Recent - Mama Request & Asks are always open

Opening the drapes, you were greeted by warm sunlight beaming through and lighting up the room. You made yourself useful this morning, going for a jog, and finishing your morning routine, even though you woke up around noon. The sequence of events from the night before made sleep almost impossible for you. You tossed and turned for a while, the image of Matt’s face engraved into your brain. Deciding to distract yourself, you stayed up late, unpacking the rest of your belongings, and blaring your go-to playlist throughout the house. The night ended with everything unpacked and you passed out on the fuzzy rug in your living room.

Not being able to shake the harsh feeling of Matt’s pained expression, going for a jog was your only escape so, that’s what you did as soon as you finished your breakfast. Little did you know, Matt and his brothers would be arriving at their house right as you’re ending your morning jog. Plastic bags wrapped around his fingers as he shuts the car door, his eyes land on you, quickly followed by his two look-a-like’s. You plaster an awkward smile on your face, waving, and jogging past them, not wanting to be held up by any more uncomfortable conversations. The AirPods in your ears and beads of sweat dripping down your face being the main indicator you weren’t up for chatting. You didn’t dare to look over your shoulder, entering your house, and heading straight for the shower.

After opening almost every curtain in your house, letting in as much natural sunlight as possible, you go downstairs to your living room. The only tv you had was in the living room and your couches were still in shipment. You take a seat on your fuzzy rug, turn on your tv, and scroll through Netflix. Once you finally land on something that sparks your interest, your phone dings. Quickly selecting the movie and tapping your screen, you see it’s a text from Matt.

A toothless smile pulls at your lips. Maybe Matt wasn’t thrown off by your confession like you thought he was. If roles were reversed, him telling you that he just got out of a serious relationship months prior, you would cut all ties right then and there. In all honesty, if your past relationship hadn’t ended so badly, you would still be in Seattle, in contact with him. You couldn’t blame Matt for how he felt about the recent revelation, but you certainly did blame yourself for letting it slip too soon. Something about Matt made you want more of him every time he left, and the last few nights you had been restraining yourself from walking next door to talk to him. Every conversation was light and easy-going, making you feel like you two had known each other for a lifetime. You weren’t much of a talker so feeling comfortable around him had you shook for words, leaving you wondering how much the bond meant to him. It meant the world to you.

Even though you knew leaving Seattle was the right idea, you couldn’t help but feel homesick, missing your friends and family. Matt had a special way of making you forget about all of when he was around. You still made sure to keep in contact with your loved ones back in Seattle, nightly calls to your best friends and parenting showed them how much you really liked him. It had only been a week, and you couldn’t shut up about him

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You spend a couple hours at Target, picking up numerous things for your house, and ingredients for dinner. You decided on your classic ‘Marry Me Chicken’ - mainly because it was the first dish you were ever taught, and you had mastered it by now - you wanted to impress Matt and his brothers. First impressions were everything to you. Even if things might’ve been too far gone with Matt, you at least wanted to knock him off his feet with your cooking skills.

Your arms stacked with plastic grocery bags; you stumble up to his front door. Struggling to get a hand up, the front door flies open, “Y/n! Matt, Y/n’s here!” One of Matt’s lookalike’s scoop bags out of your hands, you couldn’t tell if it was Nick or Chris, but you at least knew their names. You watch as he nods his head for you to follow him. Stepping into their house, you kick off your shoes out of respect even though he still has his on his feet. He yells, “Matt, get your ass in here!” just as Matt rushes around the corner, locking eyes with you. His face quickly turns a light shade of pink and a smile pulls at his lips, “hey.”

You could’ve sworn his flustered expression was contagious by the way your face matches his almost immediately, but you try to play it off, forcing a toothless smile, "hi."

Matt reaches for the grocery bags that are still weighing you down and his brother snorts at the interaction, “wow oh- kay.” His comment makes Matt’s face twist in embarrassment and irritation, “this is my brother, Nick.” Matt collects the rest of the groceries and sets them on the island, “the loud one.”

“I think we’re all pretty loud Matt,” Nick shoots back sarcastically and turns his attention, “I prefer ‘the gay one’ in case you were wondering.”

You let out a little giggle, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Making your way to the islands to help Matt unload the groceries. His gaze is stuck on you as he carelessly sets the tomatoes on the counter, only noticing they’re rolling off when it’s too late to catch them. “Matt!” you exclaim, a little too loud for your own liking, “you’re gonna bruise my tomatoes!”

“Shit, sorry!” He quickly crouches down to pick them up before turning the knob on the sink and running them under cold water. You make your way to him, “sorry,” grabbing the tomatoes to inspect it, “a bruised tomato makes a shitty sauce.” After deciding it’s okay, you look up to see Matt’s eyes still glued on you, “I’ll be more careful next time.”

You watch as he presses his lips in a thin line, attempting to hold back the grin that’s trying to break through. Matching his energy, you playfully furrow your eyebrows at him, “you should be. How am I gonna show off my killer cooking skills when you’re damaging the most important ingredient?”

He cracks a smile, “you haven’t even told me what you were making yet. How am I supposed to know it’s the most important ingredient?” You let out a laugh, being able to go back and forth with him was something you loved. It’s like all the momentary awkwardness from the series of events the night before didn’t matter. It disappeared for the time being, but your intuition told you it’d be brought back up later in the night.

“Marry me chicken,” you tell him. Matt raises an eyebrow, “it was the first recipe I learned,” you deadpan, not wanting him to get the wrong idea of the title. You didn’t make up the name for the recipe, and you had no idea if you were preparing this dinner as Matts friend or as his situationship that lives next door.

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“Okay, now the heavy cream,” you hold your hand out. Matt takes notion, handing you the carton of heavy whipping cream almost immediately., making you nod to him as a way of saying thank you. Matt had been a big help in the kitchen all night. He handed all the ingredients to you as you needed them, making small talk to keep you company while his brothers watched a movie in the living room. You step away from the stove, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel nearby, and leaning against the opposite counter from Matt.

“So,” he stretches out, crossing his arms over his chest, “about last night.” You shift awkwardly, not wanting to bring the conversation up, but you knew it had to be done. Your intuition was dead on. At this point the topic was the elephant in the room, like a big boulder sitting in the middle of the kitchen that you and Matt had to constantly shuffle around. IYou watch as he clears his throat, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes, “I asked too many questions.” You shake your head at him, “questions are good. I don’t mind,” you ramble like an idiot, mentally face palming yourself. Talking about your ex made you nervous, you didn’t want to say or do anything that made Matt distance himself.

An anxious chuckle falls from his lips, “maybe I made some assumptions too soon,” he states before pinning his bottom lip between his teeth, “I really like you. I don’t want you to think I’m not into you for any reason.”

His words take you by surprise, and you open your mouth to speak, “finally being straightforward,” you poke at him. Matt being so to the point, telling you how he felt about the situation, was new. The little time you had known him, you always found yourself searching for answers without actually asking questions. Maybe it was because he was too interesting to you. He could tell you his whole life story, and you’d still want to know more. A smile creeps onto Matt’s face, “figured I’d try something new,” he jokes, keeping the same playful tone as you. The butterflies in your stomach dance and your face heats up a bright shade of red, “well I’m glad you told me 'cause I definitely thought you hated me after last night. I snapped on you, I’m sorry. I felt really bad afterwards.”

Matt scrunches his face, shaking his head, “don’t apologize. The attitude was on point,” he tells you, holding his fingers up to form an okay sign. You giggle, “you like ‘em a lil spicy, huh?”

Matt snorts, letting a small laugh escape his lips, “only the kind of spice you have.” He lets his face contort, cringing from his own words, “sorry, that was too much,” making you burst into laughter. You double over holding your stomach, “no, that was cute - a little cheesy - but cute.” Your infectious laugh brings a bright smile too his face and he quickly joins in with you, “cheesy pick-up lines are a given with me, just to let you know.”

“At least I’ll get a good laugh every day,” you coo back at him, running a hand through your hair before pushing yourself off the counter and approaching the stove that he’s standing next to. You stir the sauce gently and bring the spoon up to your mouth for a taste test, “yeah, I’m a chef. Let Gordon Ramsey know I’m coming for his spot!” you exclaim before taking another spoonful for Matt. Blowing on it a few times, you cup your hand under the spoon as you guide it to his lips. Matt locks his eyes on your, taking a slow slurp from the spoon. The intensity of his gaze makes you want to break eye contact and hide your face like the true shy girl you are, but his piercing blue orbs are too strong to let you look away, keeping you in a trance as your face lights up and goosebumps form on your arms.

Your eyes widen a bit, but you quickly try to play it off, relaxing your face as you pull the spoon away. “Wow, that’s really good. Somebody needs to put you on top chef,” he jokes, clearly not picking up on the effect he had on you. Lust swirls around in your gut, making the words struggle to get out of your throat, “th-that good?”

“Oh yea,” he confirms before plastering a kool aid like smile across his lips. “I’m really impressed. You're gonna have to cook for me more often,” he tells you, inching so close that you can feel his body heat radiating off you. It was clear by now Matt had a certain effect on you that nobody has ever had before. Little things like Matt holding eye contact or forcing proximity between you two made you wonder if he knew about the butterflies he placed in your stomach every time he spoke to you or accidentally brushed his arm against yours. You felt like a seventh grade girl obsessing over her first crush, except you were a grown woman crushing on the boy next door.

Matt knew exactly what he was doing. Being the gentleman he truly was, half the time he didn’t act on his impulsive behaviors. If it was up to him, he’d have you all to himself, telling you how much he really cared about you. Matt felt the same way about you as you did about him. The past relationships and random hook ups you two had weren’t anything compared to this weeklong bond you formed. As pathetic as it sounds, the connection had Matt in a chokehold and you in a death grip, not letting either of you go, and only leaving you both wanting more each time one of you pull away.

After last night, he went home and talked to his brothers about you just like he had been doing every night since the first interaction. Matt was worried something fierce about you exposing the fact you were four months fresh from a three year long relationship. He feared your ex was still in the picture, that he would text you any moment and you’d be on your way back to Seattle. Nick and Chris feeding him comments along the lines of - “so what, man? Go get some ass. You haven’t been laid in months, it’s starting to scare me,” and “you barely even know the girl. Stop worrying about her ex,” but when his bothered expression didn’t budge from his face, his brothers quickly took notice, “holy shit! You like her?!” Chris teases him immediately and Nick balances it out by saying, “leave him alone, Chris. He barely likes anyone.”

If Matt was being completely honest, he was just waiting for the moment that provided the right space and opportunity to tell you - and show you - how he really felt. When you passed by him on your morning jog, he could feel the vibes were off. Unknowingly being in tune to your energy already, negativity was practically oozing out of you, and Matt took notice right away. The torn expression on your face mixed with beads of sweat dripping from your brow, Matt felt horrible for how he reacted the night before. He had to come up with a plan to get you in the same room as him again, and once he remembered how much you loved to cook, he decided to test the waters. Luckily for him, it was working out perfectly.

“Just have to drain the pasta,” you announce before covering your hands in oven mitts and picking up the pot full of boiling hot penne noodles. Carefully taking a step back, your body comes to a halt as you crash into Matt, who didn’t take cue that you were moving with caution. The hot water splashes, coating your oven mitts, and you jut your body outward, hissing from the contact. Mentally praising yourself for using the mitts, your hands would be covered in burns if you hadn’t.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Matt blurts out before taking the hot pot from you, not caring if it was too hot to touch, and carelessly setting it on the counter. He quickly turns his attention back to you, pulling off the oven mitts, and inspecting your hands. “Are you okay? Sorry, I was just looking at you, wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t get you, did it?” he rambles, taking your hands and turning them every which way to make sure there were no visible burns.

“No, no, I’m fine. Those are some thick oven mitts,” you joke trying to ease his panic. You thought it was cute how much the idea of you being hurt put him in a frenzy. “Are you sure?” his words laced with concern, and a worried look etched across his face, as he continues to inspect you. The warmth of his hands makes you suck in a sharp breath, nodding slowly, “promise.”

Matt finally looks up at you, his eyes glancing towards your lips. He takes a step back, swallowing hard like he’s physically holding himself back from his next action. You watch as he leans over the stove, flipping the burner off you had thoughtlessly left on before taking a step closer to you. His hands snake around your waist, pulling you to him. The way your bodies fit together like two missing puzzle pieces makes a familiar weakness buckle at your knees. “I feel so bad,” he confesses. Matt sways side to side, gently rocking you with him as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “I’m really sorry.”

You pull back from him slightly, only so you can show him your hands, “no burns. I’m all good,” you tell him honestly. The worriment still plastered on his face as you wrap your arms around his neck, gently rubbing a thumb along the nape of his neck. “You’re sure?” he presses his lips in a thin line, trying to fight off a smile that was pulling at his lips. Playfully furrowing your eyebrows at him, “only if you promise I walk out of here in one piece.”

As much as Matt wanted to take you to his bedroom and leave you crawling out of his house, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. No promises. “Promise,” he lets his smile break through and yours follows soon after.

Matt lets his eyes explore, drifting from your eyes to your lips, and back up to your eyes again. You were fascinated by the meaning his held, they locked you in every time. His eyes were so blue, you felt like you were drowning every time he looked at you. You and Matt stay lost in time for a few seconds before you make your move, tiptoeing to press your lips to his. Not like other times when Matt would pull away rather quickly, letting his nerves get the best of him. Instead, he digs his fingers into your waist, pulling you so close that your body is pressed against his. He trails a hand up your arm until he's cupping the back of your neck, walking you backwards, the only thing to stop you is the edge of the countertop protruding into your back.

The built up sexual tension has your tongues dancing together like two ballroom characters from a Disney movie. In a way, this was your real-life version of Beauty and The Beast - pressed up against Matt’s counter as his hands explored your body and his tongue inspected every inch of your mouth. You didn't know where you and Matt stood, you didn't know the title of your relationship you shared with him, but you knew you enjoyed every second spent with him and you didn't want it to end anytime soon.

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