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gilverrwrites · 6 months ago

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Bat Feeder

AN: I keep seeing those rich people social media posts where people fill Dollie’s up with snacks and leave them outside for delivery drivers, and imagining doing something similar for the bats. Bat-Fam/Reader, 1K words (Batman, Harley Quinn, Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, Signal, and Spoiler) CWs: None, just a silly little fluff fic. GN! Reader

It starts small, just a tray with some water bottles, packs of gum, maybe some protein bars and a multi-pack of chips you bought but didn’t like. You write ‘For Batman, Robin, and other vigilantes; Thanks for what you do :)‘ in Sharpie on the front of the tray and leave it on your balcony, not really expecting much, it was just a silly thought after too much doom scrolling.

It goes untouched for weeks, you’ve almost forgotten about it until one night, at like 2 AM you hear the sound of heavy boots walking on metal grate, so faint you would have missed it if you’d been asleep. Curious, you peek through your curtain and there’s Red Hood!

He stands there for a long time, motionless as he seems to stare at it, helmet hiding any real emotion until he pockets a pack of gum and water before leaving, dropping down into the street.

News must spread amongst the other heroes cause within a few days the basket is nearly empty. Enthused, the next time you go to the store you pick up some new items, just a few extra bits that are within your budget; chips that don’t taste like cardboard, candy, and energy drinks.

Your efforts are clearly appreciated as you wind up having to restock every couple of days. The energy drinks are the biggest takers, and you worry you might be supplying the younger ones with high amounts of caffeine that they shouldn’t be having.

One day you’re scrolling through insta during your work break and see Spoiler has posted a masked selfie of herself holding up a chocolatey protein bar with the caption ‘Perks of the job! 💜⭐️ #thankyoukindcivilian’ or something like that. In the back of the photo you see your basket and you’re elated.

Another day you wake up to a note wedged halfway through your window, it’s from Robin, stating that he’s a vegan and if it’s not too much trouble could you cater to that. The same day you dump a bunch of fruit that you were never gonna eat anyway into the basket and hope it will hold over until your next trip to the store where you spend ages examining the dietary information of everything you pick up, eventually finding a couple of items you hope he’ll like.

Your efforts are appreciated because the next day you find another note from him offering his gratitude.

After the novelty has worn off it dies down, you fall into a routine; they never take too much, so you only have to top it up every few weeks. Until one morning you wake up to find it completely ransacked, your sign has been scribbled out, replaced by the words: ‘THX 4 THE SNACKS’, and a bunch of doodles. You suspect Harley Quinn since one of the drawings is her trademark 3 of diamonds.

Unsure how to proceed, you clean up the mess and bring it inside. You don’t want to attract danger, but you did enjoy doing it. The graffitied tray sits by the door for a long time while you consider what to do, more and more forgotten with each day.

That’s until there’s a knock on your balcony door in the middle of the night. Seems ominous, risky in a city like Gotham, especially after what happened with Harley, but just like that night with Red Hood, you can’t help but investigate.

When you poke your head around the curtain you find Nightwing staring back at you. He smiles and waves to you like you’re long-time friends and it does a lot to ease your shock.

“Um, hi. Can I help you?” You ask as you open the door.

“Uh, maybe, see, I came all the way from Blüdhaven cause I was told there would be snacks.” He replies, dramatically looking around your balcony as he speaks. “But there’s no snacks.”

“Yeah. I stopped after Harley Quinn vandalised it.” You gesture to the now discarded red and black tray. “But I have some chocolate, if you want some. Or do you like Cheez-Its?”

“You don’t have to do that.” He sounds disappointed.

“No it’s fine, it’s no trouble, wait here!”

You raid your kitchen before returning with a handful of snacks and drinks from your own supply and offer them Nightwing.

“Oh wow, Thanks!”

You didn’t have to, but you’re glad you did. He has such a genuinely giddy look on his face.

“Really though, we don’t do it for the free stuff, we appreciate it a lot.” He speaks between mouthfuls of M&Ms. “If you ever wanted to do it again, I wouldn’t worry about Harley. She's mostly harmless to civilians these days.”

He thanks you a few more times before leaving to finish his patrol, but not before warning; “Hey, don’t open your door for any more strangers in the middle of the night, yeah? Well, unless they’re as handsome as me.”

Harley being mostly harmless doesn’t fill you with confidence, but you figure if those guys are brave enough to risk their lives fighting crime, you can be brave enough to put a box of treats outside. This time with a new sign that reads “For Bats, birds, other vigilantes, and Harley Quinn ♥️”

You hope including her might make her less likely to lash out.

From there everything falls back into normality for a while, you even start adding seasonal treats for special occasions, until eventually, they seem to stop by less and less, perhaps they grew bored or maybe you’re not a convenient stop on their latest patrol route, you don’t really mind, you persist.

Every now and again on your days off you’ll spot signal stopping by, he always gives you a smile and a thumbs up when he sees you watching him.

After months and months, maybe a year or so it happens. The big one. You’re struggling to sleep one night, the flat just feels too hot, too claustrophobic. Overwhelmed by it you storm outside, needing the night sky and its cold air but when you get there you’re greeted by an imposing shadow of a man, Batman. He’s holding a half-drunk bottle of water and his entire body is so stock still, you’re not even sure if he’s real or a statue. After a solid minute of silent staring you quietly step back inside, count to 30, and re-emerge. He’s gone, completely dissolved into the darkness of the night with half a bottle of water and a snack pack of mint Oreos.

#dc #batfam x reader #batman #Bruce Wayne #batman/reader #bruce wayne/reader #Nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing/reader #dick grayson/reader #Jason Todd #red hood #Robin #damian wayne #stephanie brown #the signal #x reader #imagine #gilverrwrites

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crushpunky · 2 months ago

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rafe gets protective of kook!reader

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

Y/n sat on the patio of Tanneyhill, the dull bass of the music vibrating through her bones. The yard was littered with a few drunken teenagers and young adults, but much less crowded than the inside. Hoping for a moment of reprise from the constant social overload, she found herself sitting outside on one of the sun loungers. Topper and Kelce were somewhere inside, probably getting drunk with whatever girls graced their presence. Rafe had been talking with somebody he knew from the country club when y/n told him she was going to step outside. He had offered to go with her, not liking her being alone in the chaos of a party, but she insisted he continue his apparently very interesting conversation about golf.

“Do you mind if I join you, princess?” Y/n looked up at JJ Maybank, a wide (likely drunken) grin on his face. She wasn’t surprised to see him here, he was a friend of Sarah’s after all. Sure, JJ wasn’t exactly her friend, but the two of them were acquaintances. She had bought weed from him numerous times (not that Rafe knew that) and had gotten to know him through spending time with Sarah or running into him at parties.

“Knock yourself out.” Y/n gestured to the lounger next to her. JJ stumbled forward, instead opting to sit on the foot of her own lounger. Y/n closed her eyes, rolling her shoulders, and trying her best to drown out the echoing music.

“So… where are your buddies?” JJ asked, gesturing with his red solo cup. Y/n sighed, a bit of annoyance creeping up on her before she quickly pushed it down, biting her tongue as she opened her eyes.

“Inside.” Y/n nodded, swirling her own cup mindlessly. JJ nodded, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the laces of y/n’s shoes. Y/n’s brows furrowed at the action but didn’t question it. Even though she didn’t know JJ that well, she knew he was a very fidgety-touchy guy… him and Rafe were very much alike in that sense.

“They left you out here?” JJ asked, looking up from y/n’s shoes, his hand still resting lightly on her ankle.

“No, no, no.” Y/n shook her head quickly. “I just needed a little break.”

“Ahhh,” JJ said, tapping his cup against his head, “and I’m bothering you during said break.”

Y/n shrugged, a small smile forming on her lips. At least he was self aware.

“Well, maybe I can make it up to you,” JJ reached behind his ear before dramatically presenting her a tightly rolled joint. Y/n felt her mood pick up, straightening in the lounger.

“Perhaps you can.” Y/n smiled, taking the joint from him and sticking it between her lips. JJ pulled a lighter from his back pocket, y/n stretching out her hand to take it. JJ tutted before leaning forward, his hand trailing up to rest on her knee.

“Allow me, princess.” JJ whispered, his face close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. He lifted his hand, cupping the side of her face as he flicked the lighter. Y/n watched as he bit his lip in concentration, the precise blue of his eyes flickering with each spark of the lighter; a blue that seemed so similar to—

“What the fuck are you doing?” Y/n’s gaze shot up at Rafe’s voice, the joint nearly falling from her lips. JJ jumped at the sudden intrusion, catching himself just before rolling off the lounger, his body practically on top of y/n’s. Y/n pushed him to sit up instinctually, the joint still dangling between her lips.

“Oh, hey Rafe. Always a pleasure—” JJ scrambled, pushing his hair out of his face haphazardly. Rafe took a harsh step forward before yanking the joint out of y/n’s lips and tossing it into the nearby pool.

“Man, do you know how much that fucking cost—” JJ groaned before Rafe grabbed his shoulder, yanking him to his feet.

“Rafe, quit it!” Y/n quickly jumped up, trying her best to wedge herself between the two hotheads before the fists started to fly.

“I don’t give a fuck how much it cost, pogue,” Rafe spat, his grip still strong on the front of JJ’s shirt. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing touching her like that? Huh?”

“Well, she said it was perfectly fine.” JJ shrugged, a shiteating grin on his face as y/n stared daggers at him. Rafe took a seething step forward, his fists clenched.

“I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit—” Rafe roared.

“Oh here he is! Big, bad Rafe fuckin Cameron—” JJ shot back, closing in on Rafe, further sandwiching y/n between them.

“Both of you fucking stop!” Y/n shouted, pushing with all her strength and sending the two of them stumbling apart. Had either of them been sober, or god forbid high, she knew there would be no way in hell she’d have been able to stop the two of them once they started at eachother like this.

“Rafe, he wasn’t fucking doing anything. We were just talking and smoking. That’s it.” Y/n snapped, turning to Rafe with a point. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his gaze still darting between y/n and JJ.

“See, Cameron, I told you—” JJ started before y/n turned to face him, her eyes ablaze.

“JJ, I don’t need you encouraging him and I definitely don’t need you fucking helping me.” Y/n said pointedly, JJ’s eyes widening by her intensity. The three of them stood in a shocked silence, y/n putting her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry, JJ, but I think you should go.” Y/n sighed. JJ scoffed, shaking his head as he picked up his drink.

“Sure thing, princess.” JJ said with a small salute. “I had a good time tonight. We should do it again.”

“You motherfu—” Rafe seethed, moving towards JJ until y/n pushed him back once more.

“Get out of here, JJ. Now.” Y/n said, her tone serious as she held onto a fistful of Rafe’s shirt. With a roll of his eyes, JJ finally walked away, leaving just the two of them on the patio. Y/n let go of Rafe, wiping her hands on her shorts as she shook her head.

“So you’re just taking weed from anyone now, huh?” Rafe said, lowering himself to meet y/n’s eyes. Y/n scoffed, turning to sink back into her lounger with a sip of her drink.

“Do you have any idea how fucking dangerous that is? Who knows what kind of shit that pogue put in there? Huh? W- what if he fuckin drugged you?” Rafe followed her, sitting on the foot of the lounger.

“I saw what he was doing,” Rafe scoffed. “Touching you like that, trying to get you high out here by yourself so he could take advantage of you—-”

“Jesus, Rafe!” Y/n shouted, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. “We were just fucking talking! Not every guy is trying to ‘take advantage’ of me! Do you hear yourself right now?”

“He’s a fucking pogue, y/n. I think I sound perfectly rational.” Rafe said shortly, causing y/n to roll her eyes.

“Why do you always do this shit?” Y/n snapped. “Everytime a guy so much as looks at me, you freak the fuck out and make a huge scene.”

Rafe scoffed, laughing to himself as he shook his head.

“Yes, you do, Cameron.” Y/n pointed a finger against Rafe’s chest. “You know I’m right.”

“Sorry that I fuckin care about you, a’ight? Me. Fuckin me. I care about you.” Rafe snapped, grabbing her hand and pushing it further against his chest. Y/n eyes refused to leave his, her gaze firm.

“It’s not fair, Rafe, and you know it.” Y/n’s said, her voice barely a whisper. She could see Rafe’s body soften slightly, his grip allowing their hands to fall into his lap.

“I– I…” Rafe stuttered, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he ran a hand through his hair. Y/n swallowed harshly, Rafe’s hand still firm in her own as he searched for the words.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just…” Rafe sighed, “when I see them… looking at you like that it just does something to me and I can’t fucking stop it. I wish I could just let it go and pretend that it doesn’t bother me but… it does.”

Y/n felt her stomach drop, the weight of Rafe’s words heavy in the air.

“Y/n, I care about you a lot… maybe even more than a friend should and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt to see you with someone else like...” Rafe said quietly, his eyes locked on their entwined hands in his lap.

“Like what, Rafe?” Y/n whispered, Rafe finally lifting his gaze to meet her own.

“Like the way I want to be with you. The way I’ve always wanted to be with you.” Rafe said lowly, the words lifting the weight of years and years of hiding off his shoulders.

“Rafe…” Y/n started, but was cut off as Rafe shook his head harshly.

“No, you don’t… you don’t have to say anything.” Rafe sighed, rubbing a hand along the curve of his jaw.

“But I want to, Rafe.” Y/n whispered, squeezing Rafe’s hand gently, her thumb trailing along his knuckles lightly.

“I… I hate seeing you with anyone like that too, Rafe.” Y/n swallowed harshly. “Everytime I had to just… stand there and act like I didn’t care I was dying inside.”

Rafe’s face softened, his hand moving to cup her jaw. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat as she gazed deeply into the deep, stormy blue of his eyes. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin and smell the soft smokiness of his cologne.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Rafe whispered, his lips only centimeters away from her own.

“I didn’t want you to think I was just a stupid girl who had fallen for her best friend.” Y/n said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was just a stupid boy who had fallen for his best friend.” Rafe said, his lips ghosting her own.

“Well I guess that just makes us two idiots.” Y/n whispered as their lips finally met in an explosive culmination of years and years of longing.

#obx #obx au #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #kook!reader

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sanguineterrain · 11 months ago

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could i request something with dick where he returns home to reader like almost at dawn and just immediately collapses into bed to cuddle them? i know it’s kind of boring and simple but i’d love nothing more than to wake up w/ mr grayson 😭

short n sweet <3 thanks for requesting!

dick grayson x gn!reader. fluffy cuddles.

****

You jolt awake at a hand on your cheek. Your legs are tangled in a small throw quilt for the couch and half your body is wedged between the cushions.

"Hey," Dick whispers. "Sorry to wake you, honey."

Milky masked eyes stare at you. Dick's knelt in front of the couch, still in his suit. He peels the domino mask off and tilts his head. Bits of sealant and irritated skin surround his eyes, a consequence of wearing a mask for too long.

"Hi," you say, reaching for him and gently touching his face.

His hand slides up and down your arm and you feel the apology before he says it.

"I'm sorry I'm back so late," he says. "Emergency."

"It's Blüdhaven. I'm not surprised," you say back, sleepily petting his hair. "You don't have to apologize. I know what I signed up for."

Dick catches your hand and kisses your palm.

"Were you waiting up for me?" he asks.

"Um… I attempted to wait up for you. Dunno when I fell asleep."

His face softens even further.

"You don't have to do that," he says.

"Mm. Pretty sure we've had this conversation before. I'm gonna worry and I'm gonna wait up."

Dick leans in and kisses your temple. He rests his lips there for a few moments. You wrap your arm around his neck. He strokes your thigh, like he has to touch you. You could sleep like this. You could die like this.

"Let's go to bed, love."

Loving him is bliss. You want to tell him, but your brain can't form the words currently. You hug him tighter, cheek to cheek, and hope he understands. Dick laughs softly and pets your back.

"I gotta shower. I'll be ten minutes, max."

He untangles himself. Your hands are the last to separate, fingers lingering on yours. The bathroom light turns on. You wrap the quilt from the couch around your shoulders and pad into your shared bedroom.

It's especially cold tonight and the temperature change shocks your nervous system. You curl into a ball and doze as you wait for Dick to finish.

You wake up to Dick crawling into bed. He kisses your shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry," he whispers, lifting the blanket. "Sleep, I'm here."

"Hold me," you mumble, patting the bed in search of his hand.

Dick curls around you immediately. His chest is against your back, and he puts an arm around your belly and a leg over your legs. The tip of his nose rests on your neck. He's warm from the shower and smells like the vanilla body wash you bought last week.

"Missed you, Dickie," you manage to say before succumbing to your exhaustion.

"Nowhere near as much as how much I missed you."

#dick grayson x reader #god i havent posted in AGES #dick grayson x you #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson imagine #richard grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #batman fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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dailydoseofsluttythoughts · 4 months ago

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~♡Brat♡~

"Nemiiii, I wan' that one!... Pleaseeee..?" You flashed your big doe eyes at him, pointing at the bright pink juicy track suit you had yet to acquire.

You had been meaning to buy one for quite a while now but could never find one in the color you want, unfortunately.

"No. The jacket alone is $113, baby, an' you haven't quite been on your best behavior today" He replied, never breaking his gaze away from the Jordans he was looking at. He was referring to the 8 bags he was already holding. (Even though you had repeatedly told him you could pay if he didn't want to).

Your arms flopped down at your sides in defeat, the bangles and bracelets on your wrists clinking together as you pouted up at your fiance.

You felt the familiar sting of tears well up in your eyes at the denial. You really wanted it. And you'd be damned if you weren't gonna get it by the end of the day.

You smirked as an idea popped into your head, and stepped closer to Sanemi. Your left hand came up to grab at his right biscep and your right hand moved to lay on his chest.

Your tan wedges added a good few inches to your height, making it easier for you to reach and whisper into his ear. "Oh really? So there's nothing I can do to change your mind, huh?... Bumer, I was thinking some time on my knees might do the trick" You knew you had him wrapped around your well-manicured finger by the way his eyes shifted slightly to towards you in contemplation.

He grunts under his breath, "Your on, princess. You make me cum an' it's all yours baby, " He leaned closer to you as he spoke.

You smiled up at him, your glossy lips shining and your sickeningly sweet Victoria's Secret perfume intoxicating him. His head was getting foggy at just the thought of your plump lips slickly wrapped around his already hardening cock.

You led him out of the store, looping your arm in his as you shut your brain off and let him lead you to the family bathroom in Macy's. Good thing it was a Wednesday and there wasn't many people here at the mall.

You and Nemi liked coming here on Wednesday's because you had worked at this mall in your teen years and knew that Tuesday was the day that all of the restock items came into the stores, and nobody's comes to the mall on Wednesday, so you get first picks at all the good stuff.

The two of you had already been to Victoria's Secret, and bought some new sets fro special occasions, Zumiez to get Nemi some new pants, - there was a sale - and to get you some new beanies. You had also spent almost $200 at Spencer's, buying brand new 'adult' toys to try out later. You had also stopped at Forever 21 to get a new dress for you and Nemi's date night on Saturday.

But for now here you were in a family bathroom that was, surprisingly clean. Nemi sat down on the closed toilet seat, after unbottoning his pants and shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the floor in front of him, leaving him in a white wife-beater.

"Kneel on that. Now." His voice was stern and dominating. The lowness of it combing over your body, almost forcing you to kneel down in front of him.

"Well? Get to it slut... Don' tell me your backing out now, after allat talk earlier" His crystal white grin was sinister, but nonetheless put you into a deadly trance.

He didn't wait any longer and pulled out his raging hard-on. He wasn't the longest you had seen, - you had never really liked them too long - but his girth. My god, you could go on for days about how perfectly his thickness fit inside your holes.

You knew you had to be leaking at this point. You could feel the sticky wettness on your thighs. His dick was leaking at the tip, giving away how excited he actually was right now.

You breathed in deep, inhaling the heavy scent of his musk. It made your vision hazy and clouded your brain. Your head with filled with non stop thoughts of his cock.

Finally, you leaned forward and gripped the base with your small, manicured hands. Your gaze never left his as you left small kitten licks up and down the sides of his manhood, tracing the prominent veins lining his shaft.

Your mouth came back up to the top, tongue trailing along the bottom, where he had the thickest vien out of all of them, your pink tinted lip-gloss leaving kiss marks along his thickness.

You popped his tip into your mouth and sucked slightly. "Oh fuuuck, that's good, baby" He grunted out, in between heavy sighs.

His reaction pleased the hell out of you, motivating more movement from your tongue as you sunk further down his dick. You pulled back up and hollowed your mouth around him, creating a stronger suction than before.

His hips stuttered and lifted towards your hot mouth. "Shit!" He murmured under his breath as one of his large hands came to the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock as he fucked into your throat harshly. "Bet you like this don' you, baby?" You answered by humming out a muffled 'mhmm'.

"Course you do, your my good girl, after all. M'perfect baby. You belong to me. Nobody else can do what I do, huh? I've ruined you, haven't I?" His voice got more coarse and his hips sped up their pace. You could tell he was close. He always talks like this when his on the brink of coming.

You reached up to the hem of your strapless bubble-gum-pink dress and pulled it down, letting your plump breast fall from their confines. The silver of your pierced nipples shining in the harsh bathroom lighting.

Letting go of him, you grabbed both of your breasts and lifted yourself up into your knees, wrapping them around him as you continued to suckle on his tip.

"Holy shit! M'gonna cum princess, g'na cum down that pretty throat then m'gunna take you home and fuck that perfect little pussy" His pants were getting faster and faster as he chased his release.

You gazed back up at him through tears and subtle lash extensions. You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked harder, simultaneously moving your tongue around his tip and sliding your tits up and down his shaft.

"Holy fucking- shit baby, so fuck- so fucking good" His breathing was speeding up and shallowing out. You could tell he was about to cum, so you kept to what you were doing until you heard him suck in a quick breath and felt his hips stuttering.

His warm fluids flowing down your throat, so hot you thought it might be boiling. His hand came down unto the back of your head and his cock pushed to the back of your mouth, sending his cum further down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow.

As you pulled off and caught your breath he spoke, "fuck baby, keep sucking me off like that and I'll buy you whatever the fuck you want"

You smirked, and wiped the corner of your mouth while standing up. Grabbing the straps of your dress you readjusted yourself, before turning to Sanemi. "Maybe I will then" you turned to the mirror in the bathroom. And reapplied your cherry lip-gloss.

He shrugged his pants and underwear back up and came behind you to rub your hips with his much larger hands.

You finished touching your face back up and turned to meet his lips in a soft kiss. You practically melted into him as his arms circled around your waist.

He pulled away and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together, and walking you out of the bathroom.

"Let's go get you that track suit, sweet girl"

#demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny #sanemi #tanjiro #inosuke x reader #hashira x reader #modern! au #black! reader #POC! reader #tw.degradation #anime #fiction #imagines #black stories

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madschiavelique · 1 year ago

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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ . ★ . ჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

Chapter 1 : First Day

pairing : teacher!miguel o’hara x student!reader summary : you visit your new university with the help of Hobie, and when coming back to your new apartment you meet your charming neighbour Miguel. turns out, he is not only your neighbour, but your teacher. (not proofread) content warnings : none word count : Route A : 4,2k | Route B : 4k masterlist of the fic : here.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ . ★ . ჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

Your lungs fill with the cool air of mid-September. The leaves are beginning to turn brown, a few falling onto the perfectly cut green lawn of the campus park. You can't wait to walk on them and hear them crunch under your shoes.

But for now, the sky remains blue on this late afternoon, dotted with a few cottony clouds, the gentle caress of the sun's warmth licking the skin of your cheeks. You breathe softly, calming your excited little heart for the new terrain that now stretches out before you.

At the end of this weekend, you'll begin your new year at the Academy of Science and Polytechnics, otherwise known to its students as ASP. Your previous university didn't live up to your expectations, nor did the one before that, but as they say, third time's the charm! At least, you hope so...

You're expecting to have a little more experience on various subjects than your future comrades, and you're quite happy to be starting out with a head start. Not that it's a competition, but the comfort you have with certain subjects is reassuring.

You're a little worried that the age gap might divide you from them, but you try to reassure yourself that, just in case, other people your age who want to change course will be along for the ride?

You give a quick nod, in the hope that it will give you enough courage and uprightness not to stumble and spread yourself like a pancake in a profoundly ridiculous fashion anywhere on campus, and start your walk to its entrance.

You're supposed to meet up with a certain Hobart Brown, who's supposed to be your guide for today - perhaps he's a student representative?

Whatever the case, you hope the visit won't be too long. Because not only is today your visiting day and the first time you've set foot in your new college, it's also the day when a good deal of your belongings are moved into your new apartment, which is located just a few blocks from the campus.

You'll receive several boxes containing, among other things, your books and the few manuals you've bought in previous years, clothes, your hygiene kit and a mattress to inflate. The apartment would be empty, with nothing but a refrigerator already installed as furniture.

You'd be on the third floor, the last one, as the building isn't very big or wide, with only two apartments per floor. You just hope your next-door neighbour won't be unpleasant. The reason you're hoping the visit won't be too long is that you'd like to take advantage of the delivery men’ presence to help you get everything up to your floor. Since the building is small, it lacks an elevator.

When you arrive at the large, imposing door of your university building, your gaze inevitably falls on a young man with an atypical style leaning against the wall right next to the entrance. Piercings, free hair, punk clothes and an aura of I-don't-give-a-shit to match, you wonder what degree he must be in.

With a toothpick wedged between his lips, he looks up at you, a shiver running down your spine as he tilts his head to the side.

"It's you? [Name] ?" he asks, calling your name, taking the toothpick from between his lips with his fingers.

It's at this precise moment that the realization hits you that the Hobart Brown you're supposed to find was this young man.

"Hobart?" you ask, raising both eyebrows.

"It's my name, but I prefer Hobie. Well," he nodded, rolling his eyes, "Hobie's a derivative of the one I was given at birth. Let's not get into the habit of names please, it's bad."

The scent of the anarchist anti-system was a perfume he nonetheless seemed to wear gracefully.

You pout understandingly, your lips forming into an inverted smile as you answer simply.

"Gotcha."

He smiles, nodding.

"Well, you're here for a tour," he says as he starts walking towards the interior of the building and you follow him, "but that's a particularly broad and useless term in this context. A tour only lasts once, and you discover things. But since you're going to be coming back here frequently, and you're still likely to discover new places, you could say I'm introducing you to the building."

"Are you in Arts?" you suggest as he walks down a corridor which you look at on either side where classes with their numbers are inscribed. "No, let me guess, you're in Philosophy."

"And you're perceptive." he smiles. "I like you, you seem to catch on quickly."

The university is, after all, home to the vast majority of the sciences, including the humanities. So Hobie is in philosophy, which is not surprising. It's interesting that he was the chosen student for your tour - sorry, introduction to the academy.

"Here's a typical corridor, nothing special, you'll come across lots of them," he sighs as he swings his hand in the air as if chasing a flying insect around him. "On the other hand, on this floor there are a few empty classrooms that we use from time to time, and obviously without the knowledge of the professoriate."

"Makes perfect sense," you say with a shrug.

"It's very useful for the meetings we hold about blockades," he informs, turning to you while walking backwards. "FYI," his ring-fingered hand rests on his chest, "I'm kind of the leader of our blockade committee, although being a leader or having one at your head isn't something I endorse. You could say I'm... the spokesman, the one who makes the speeches at our rebellion events, because let's face it, when you get tear gas thrown in your face, it can be confusing."

He seems to look you up and down, weighing up the pros and cons for a few seconds.

"Would you like to join us?" he finally said, with a jerk of his chin in your direction.

You crossed your arms, looking up at him.

"I'll think about it," you reply simply.

He smirks before turning again and walking straight ahead.

"Now, let me show you what will really matter here for you. You're in 'real' science, aren't you? You like playing chemist? Toying with vials?"

Hobie's little prejudices make you smile and laugh slightly.

"If you're nice, the one who toys with vials will show you how to make a better assortment of components to respond to tear gas."

He turned to you, laughing heartily and pointing at you as he walked to the staircase at the end of the corridor.

"I like you," he repeated as he led you upstairs.

"This is the second floor, in case you can't count. I don't know all your stuff and your complicated scientific words for this or that or such-and-such subject," he says, his head tilting this way or that, "but one thing's for sure: this is where you'll have most of your classes."

In the hallway in question, coming from a room that had just been locked by her, a lovely dark-skinned lady with gorgeous afro hair was walking towards you.

"And you may well find yourself in class with Mrs. Drew," he said, almost raising his voice and smiling as you walked towards her.

She walked slowly, unhurried, chin high as she smiled at the young man's call.

"Hobie, convincing one more person to tag the campus lawn with a capital A?" she said in a voice that was half sigh and half sneer as she came up to your level.

"You know me at this point, you know I never do the same thing twice," he says with a shrug before plunging his hands into his back pockets. "But for once I'm bringing in a bright element that will go into your side." he turns to you.

"A new student?" asks Professor Drew as her eyes settle on you.

"Nice to meet you, I'm [Name]," you smile simply.

"Welcome, miss." she says, inhaling heavily. "I hope you'll get used to the rhythm here, it can sometimes prove to be merciless."

"Jess, don't be so hard on a new arrival, you'll scare her away," warned a new voice.

A slightly disheveled man with light brown hair came towards you.

"This," Hobie began, "is Professor Parker. You're going to have to put up with him too."

"Eh, I'm not someone you 'put up with'," commented the aforementioned Parker, imitating a finger-crunching reaction to the use of words, "it's not my fault your religion is Spinoza and mine is Mendeleev."

"It's crazy how you're both so distinctly the same mental age," Jess sighed. "Anyway, welcome to our midst miss." and she headed off down the hall.

"Oh, so you're new!" realized Peter, "welcome to ASP."

"Stands for Appearant Soporiphic Problem," Hobie sneers.

"Does Freud have an acronym too?" puffs Peter.

"Of course," he says before raising his hand as if viewing an imaginary title in the air, "MI."

"Mission impossible?" asks Peter, frowning.

"Mommy Issues." corrects Hobie.

"Very funny," laughed Peter falsely, "I hope that as a reconversion option you've chosen the circus?"

"I'm already there. "

"I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten." This little chat lasted a few more minutes before Peter in turn left to go home and the visit continued. Ten minutes later, the visit was over.

You told Hobie that you were new to the city, and that everything was a bit of a discovery. You learnt that the building was very old, just like a few others in the town, and that many changes of direction had led to it being rebuilt over the years, while preserving its charming, slightly old-fashioned setting. "Well, I've shown you the parts that are important to you here," says Hobie as he descends the few small steps leading to the building's main entrance. "You mentioned that you were new to the city, so do you need a mini 'tour' of it too? Just the surrounding area, to familiarise yourself a little", he suggests.

Here's your first choice! Select the option you want.

Choice A: Decline and go straight to your flat. Choice B: Accept and take a short tour of the surrounding area.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ . ★ . ჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

tag list : @deceitfuldevil @allysunny @zkelecr0w @chichimisaki @luvrdonny @oooof-ifellforyou @aisyakirmann @carelesswister @jojos-wife @akiras-key @love4saturn @simpychaotic

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sometipsygnostalgic · 3 months ago

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The best system to play Gameboy games on is... well... you can play them on many devices.

Officially it would be GBA SP because it can run Gameboy and GB Colour games.

However, very few backlit SPs were ever released (they are frontlit). So a better unit for Gameboy Advance games might be the DS Lite, which universally is backlit and which is lightweight enough to not cause problems. It also has better ergonomics than the SP, but I am bugged by the black borders and empty second screen.

A really popular mod is called the "Gameboy Macro", which is when you take a DS Lite lower screen and use it solely as a gameboy advance. It is a great way to recycle DS units with a broken top screen, a common issue, though it makes me cringe to think some people modify perfectly fine units this way.

The Lite also has issues with the cartridge sticking out the bottom, so many prefer using the "phat" for this purpose. The original DS is both frontlit and backlit for some reason. The image is still an improvement on frontlit SPs.

The best units to play DS and 3DS games on are... the DS and 3DS.

Specifically the best place for NDS games is the DSi XL. No non-DS device has the touchscreen versatility to run DS games well, and it's very awkward scaling the tiny screen on an emulator.

The 3DS is also not a great place for DS games. The 3DS top parallax screen is incapable of a 1:1 pixel ratio even in pixel-perfect mode, which already has the issue of black borders around the screens, making touch-based games more finicky.

It is especially apparent on the XL models but is also an issue on the smaller 3ds models.

The best unit to play DS games on is the DSi XL. It has a backlit screen and more power and memory than the first two units, making loading faster. It doesn't have the scaling issues of the 3ds, as it doesn't need to do any upscaling at all - the XL has the same number of pixels as a normal DS.

I've never used a DSi XL because all the ones sold in the UK are these ugly beige colours and they never took off, but if you don't mind the loss of the GBA slot, it's the best device for DS games.

Unfortunately DSis seem to be plagued by yellowing screens. I can tell you the small unit I just bought has some very slight yellowing on both screens.

What's the best way to play 3ds games? Well, on a 3ds obviously. It's even harder to accurately emulate 3ds games than DS games, and you lose the 3d effects altogether.

But which 3ds is best?

It depends on what you want. The 3ds more than any other Nintendo system besides the Gameboy is heavily based on preference instead of objective superiority.

To get it out the way first, while the original 3ds has the sleekest look, it's the worst one. The original 3ds and 3dsXL have a much worse 3D implementation, relying on you to stare at the screen at an odd angle.

Not only does the New3ds fix the 3d with an eye tracking sensor, it also has more power again, and a "c-stick". I also think the screens on the New3ds are of a higher quality and run flat games better too.

However the New3dsXL has some downgrades. The SD card is replaced with a microSD but now requires a mini screwdriver to access, removing the back plate. The stylus is also a really tiny one like on the DS, in an awkward place, and the metallic skin on the console will decay very quickly with use. My New3DSXL's skin started peeling under my hands after just six months of use.

The New3DSXL is the best unit to play 3ds games if you are looking to have all the features at their most optimal. It is the best by far for playing in 3d. It can also run the DS library fine, if in a poor image quality.

Personally I prefer the XL, the larger size is easier on the eyes, though the customizable panels on the hard-to-find normal size New3ds are cute too.

If you don't care for 3d, the Wedge and Doorstop may be for you.

The 2ds has all the features of a 3ds apart from the 3d, while in a wedge shape that looks dreadful but actually feels more ergonomic. It has similarities to the first Gameboy Advance and you can't tell you're holding something so tall.

The original 2DS is sold for much cheaper than the other units because Nintendo sold it for cheaper and nobody particularly wants one, so it's the most affordable way to try every game in the DS library, especially if you pair it with a jailbroken SD card. Unfortunately it still uses the 3ds screen, just with no 3d slider, so it still upscales DS games and doesn't have perfect rendering of 3ds games either, but it's harder to tell as the screen's tiny.

The New 2ds XL was the last DS ever sold, it came out after Switch. A lot of cute variants of the 2ds XL exist, and most games coming out around its release didn't have 3d enabled anyway. The feature had died in popularity, so while a 2d 3ds was originally scoffed at, in 2017 it just made sense.

While the New2ds XL looks fancy in a distance, the ergonomics are worse than any 3ds, and far worse than the wedge 2ds. The New2dsXL is all style and no substance, with the speakers being covered by the user's hands, and it's made out of a flimsy plastic. It's clear Nintendo made the materials for the hull cheaper and cheaper over time, so by the end of the 3ds's life they had gone from a very premium-feeling device to cheap plastic. The Switch would follow this design philosophy.

I do salivate over that Pikachu version and I'd enjoy trying one, but my mind tells me it's not a great device.

All told, which do I think is better? Well I think the 3ds XL having the most features is inviting for me, and I have the choice of turning off 3D. However if you want bang for your buck, the 2ds wedge might be your safest option.

Unfortunately the New 2ds XL and New 3ds XL will cost you as much as a Nintendo Switch these days. It seems that sellers have wisened up to the demand from people who missed out on the 3ds and want to try it out. There's also talk of IPS screens being better and the New2ds XL, 3ds XL and DSi XL all use IPS screens, so people are scalping them or raising prices.

#nintendo #nintendo ds

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mischievouslittlecreature · 4 months ago

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Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Summary: Plots are made.

Word Count: 4,157

Warnings: Smut and references to pregnancy, violence, castration, and sexual assault.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 19: A Top Hat & A Coconut

Luca paced back and forth like a caged tiger, fingers flexing into fists at his sides, shoes threatening to wear a hole through the lush red rugs covering the floor of the suite that had been his lodgings since coming to Birmingham. His teeth gnawed at the toothpick wedged between them, threatening to break the delicate bit of wood in two.

A good many of his men were dead. Because he’s made a mistake. Because there had been one piece of advice from his mother that he had not headed:

Beware the red haired woman.

It had been Winters, not the Golds like he’d initially thought, who had killed Alessio. The severed head that she’d thrown at him just before he was able to put a bullet between Shelby’s eyes was proof of that.

His jaw flexed at the memory of the wet sound Frankie’s head had made as it bounced along the cobblestones to rest at his feet; lifeless eyes, still filled with pain and terror, staring up at him.

He wanted to kill her. No, more than that, he wanted to hurt her. It would not be a quick death. After what she’d done to his men? To his family? To the people of this city? No; Lucy Winters needed to suffer. Badly.

And hurting her was guaranteed to hurt Shelby, too. She was his closest confidant. The only one he’d trusted to be there with him during the ambush. Even if they weren’t lovers–of which Luca was positive that they were–the loss of her would be devastating for him.

He had been mulling over a few ideas of what exactly to do to her since getting back from the botched ambush. Bloody, gruesome fantasies that had a satisfied smile curving at the edges of his lips.

His mother had told him of Winters’s past. A violent assault that had left her scarred both inside and out. Perhaps there was something there that he could use.

Of course, getting her away from Shelby would not be easy. The pair were practically attached at the hip. That was the primary problem that needed to be solved. The rest would come easily, once he had his hands on her.

But no matter what, the Red Demon needed to be dealt with. Before she caused anymore damage.

“Boss?”

He turned at the sound of Matteo’s voice, the man hovering uncertainly in the doorway. Beckoning him in with a grunt and a gesture of his toothpick, Luca forced himself to halt his ceaseless pacing, instead lowering down into the couch. Matteo sat in the chair across from him.

“What did you find?”

Matteo’s gloved hands fumbled together as he interlaced his fingers in his lap.

“We found a gardener.”

Luca’s brows raised when he did not immediately provide any elaboration. “And?”

“His son was killed by Winters shortly after she first arrived in Small Heath.”

“Who was his son?”

“Nobody. Some trouble maker who was accused of raping a local girl. Winters heard about it and decided as retribution to castrate him. His name was Xavier Smith.”

Luca hummed. Yet another bloody mark beside Lucy Winters’s name. The woman had been busy in the years since she’d showed up in Small Heath, it would seem.

“Mr. Smith thinks that if we can provide him with a false identity, he could get a job working at the home that Shelby just bought for his former secretary, Lizzie Stark.”

Luca raised an eyebrow “Former? Last I checked she was still working for him.”

Matteo shook his head. “An advert just went into the paper a few days ago for her old job.” He sighed. “Not that that’s much use to us. I thought about trying to get one of our people in there, but Winters is doing the interviews and background checks, and word is she’s being very thorough.

“Why the hell would Shelby buy Lizzie Stark a house?”

Matteo shrugged. “We don’t know.”

Luca frowned, but decided to shrug the detail away. Plenty of employers, especially in their particular line of business, bought their employees–and even former employees–special things to encourage loyalty. Shaking his head, he put the Stark woman and the peculiarities of her living arrangements out of his head. She was not the priority.

“Won’t Shelby and his people recognize him?”

“It’s been so many years, the man has aged and changed his appearance by shaving his beard and head. And he never treated with them, not even once. It’s unlikely that they’ll know him.”

“They didn’t pay him for his son’s death?” That was custom, like what they’d done with Mrs. Ross after Arthur Shelby beat her son to death in a boxing match.

“It wasn’t an accident, like Mrs. Ross’s son was. And Mr. Smith never approached them about it. He was too scared.”

“Hm,” he considered, rolling the toothpick between his fingers. It was doubtful that they would get anything of much value out of having someone stationed at Miss. Stark’s home, but it might still be useful. She may have access to information that could come in handy, and it was always possible that Shelby or Winters would pay her a visit there. And it would make it easy, when the time came to take care of her, or if they needed to take someone from the family hostage. And it would be of little consequence or harm to them if the spy got caught and killed. “Alright. Talk to Sabini’s men, they can manage getting a new identity made up for him.”

“Yes, sir,” Matteo stood, doing up the button on his suit jacket. Luca glanced out the window, mind again returning to its endless pit of ideas for what to do about Tommy Shelby’s little demon.

“And Matteo?”

He turned back from where he was almost at the doorway, curious. “Yes?”

“When you get back, you and I are going to take a look at a couple churches around here.”

“Churches, Luca?”

“Mhm. The basements, in particular.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy woke up as she had every other morning since she and Tommy had learned the news about Lizzie’s pregnancy: with soft kisses peppered to the delicate skin of her neck, and Tommy’s huge hand running down her body to sneak between her legs.

She was starting to suspect that his chosen method for making up to her for the whole mess was through orgasms.

“Mm. Good morning to you, too,” she mumbled, stretching and opening her legs wider to give her easier access. His lips curved up against her neck, her breath stuttering as he sucked a dark mark into the skin there, soothing the love bite with his tongue. Lucy sighed blissfully at the way that his fingers circled lazily around her clit, tentatively dipping into her core to test how wet she was.

“Good morning,” he purred, raising his face to kiss her properly on the mouth. Lucy hummed into the kiss, cupping the back of his head. Her lips parted with a soft gasp when he slipped one thick finger into her, and Tommy took the opportunity to tangle his tongue with hers, kissing her slow and easy.

As he worked his way down her body, Lucy craned her head to watch him, fingers combing affectionately through his long dark hair while she shuddered at the way he pressed gentle kisses into her skin, nudging her legs further apart so that he could slot his body between them.

At the first touch of his tongue to her clit, she let her head loll back against the pillows with a soft moan, allowing him to hook her thighs up over his shoulders while her eyes rolled in her head. He had always been dangerously talented with his tongue.

He had been doting on her. Bringing her fresh flowers nearly everyday, buying her little gifts like perfumes, jewelry, and trinkets. And he was almost always touching her, be that just holding her hand during their walks around town or pulling her into his lap while he sat at his desk working on business.

Sadness over what was happening still prickled at her heart, but the constant reminders of his love and desire to have her close helped. And she appreciated how insistent he was on making sure that she knew just how important her presence in his life was to him.

“A-ah…” her back arched, fingers gripping tighter into his hair as her orgasm drew near, Tommy slipping a second finger inside her and doubling his efforts, laving at her clit with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth. Her thighs spasmed, twitching with the sparks of pleasure going through her, and the first waves of release rushed over her like a tsunami, leaving her helpless to do much more than moan and latch onto Tommy’s head for purchase while he guided her through it.

He rested his cheek against her thigh while she finished coming down, watching her with a small, wistful smile on his face, turning his face to nuzzle and kiss at her inner thigh when their eyes met. As if he were bashful at getting caught staring at her like that. Snatching at his shoulders, Lucy pulled on him lightly, encouraging him to crawl back up her body.

“Come here,” she whispered, drawing his mouth down to hers for a kiss, tasting the sweetness of her release still on his tongue. Tommy curled around her, cupping the side of her face and making a soft purring sound that buzzed in his chest under her palms.

“What time do we need to be at the boxing ring?” she asked once they’d broken apart, brushing a few tendrils of dark fringe off of his forehead. Tommy frowned, glancing over at the clock hanging on the wall.

“Not for another hour and a half.” Angling his head back down, he kissed her slowly, nipping languidly on her lower lip, letting it go with a soft pop. Adjusting himself over her, he grunted quietly when she looped her legs around his hips, heels pressing into his ass. With a flex of her thigh muscles she pulled him closer, his hardened cock bumping against her entrance. “We’ve got time.” One of his hands reached down, taking hold of himself so he could guide the leaking tip of his erection to her opening.

She hummed blissfully, arms wrapping around his neck, bringing his mouth down to slant over hers as he sheathed himself inside her.

∗ ∗ ∗

She stood beside Tommy, arms looped through his as they watched Bonnie train in the ring, Maine shouting orders to him from the sidelines. Lucy leaned her cheek against Tommy’s shoulder, drawing in the scent of his cologne and lingering smoke. Checking his watch, he gave a little jerk of his head towards the door.

“We have to go.”

She nodded, loosening her grip and falling into step beside him towards the exit.

“I’d say that he’s almost ready,” she commented once they were outside, walking the familiar path back to the office. It was getting dark, the sun sinking below the horizon steadily.

“Yes,” Tommy agreed, lighting another cigarette.

“Any word from Alfie?”

He frowned, staring across the street. “No; nothing.”

“That’s a little odd, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “But, so long as he and his men are there on the day of the match, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, gaze averting down to the ground. “How are the interviews for a new secretary going?”

Lucy swallowed dryly. Lizzie would no longer be working in the office. She hadn’t been fired, exactly, but Tommy didn’t want her working while pregnant, and considering the money he would be sending her for the remainder of their lives, she would have no need for employment anymore. Which meant that they needed to find someone to replace her.

It was terrible to say, but a part of her was relieved to not have Lizzie in the office anymore. They no longer had to tiptoe around for fear of setting her off, and Lucy simply wasn’t ready to face her, yet. She knew that she would have to eventually, but she was still so raw from the whole thing, it would probably be a bad idea to speak to her until she could trust herself to handle any emotional outbursts or verbal jabs Lizzie hurled her way without either bursting into tears or saying something she’d regret.

“Fine. I haven’t really found anyone I like yet. Everyone is either too inexperienced or too…moral for the type of work we’d sometimes need them to turn a blind eye to.”

He nodded. “Take your time. There’s no real rush. The other girls in the office can cover the additional work temporarily.”

“Right.”

By the time they made it back to the office, it was almost wholly dark, the streetlamps starting to flicker on. Tommy held open the door for her, his hand warm against her shoulder blade as he steered her inside.

The girls who worked in the office had all already gone home, but the door was unlocked, the light in his office on. Ada was seated at his chair behind the desk, painted red lips downturned into a frown.

Lucy sat down at the table by the fireplace while he and Ada talked about Ben Younger and the ordeal Ada had just been put through by his soldiers. Tommy set a glass of whiskey down on the table for her before going to sit in the chair in front of the desk.

She didn’t listen too closely to the conversation, instead kneeling by the fireplace, fishing her lighter from her trousers pocket to light the wood piled within it, blowing on the smoldering embers until the flames properly caught. Sinking back into her chair, she watched the orange and yellow licks of fire dance across the wood and coal, fingers playing with her rings and fumbling at the edges of her whiskey glass.

Despite everything, all the gifts, doting, affection, and sex, she couldn’t help but feel as if she were trapped in limbo. Holding her breath. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Tommy to sit her down, take her gently by the hands, and explain that he could not be with her anymore. Maybe that the baby had made him realize that his feelings for Lizzie ran deeper than he knew. That he had to at least try with her.

Lucy pursed her lips to keep from crying, swirling the whiskey around miserably in her glass. At Tommy’s mention to Ada of the dinner they had planned with Jessie Eden, she took a long swallow of amber, and wondered what Lizzie would think if she knew that the father of her child was about to rendezvous with another woman he fully intended to fuck solely for business purposes.

Probably something similar to what she thought about him still fucking Lucy. Guilt made her stomach turn so violently that for a moment she thought she might puke up the whiskey she’d just drank.

“Lucy?” Tommy came over to her after Ada left, his large hand resting tentatively on her shoulder. Clearing her throat, she forced her features into a neutral expression, peering up at him. “Are you alright?”

“Mhm.” Looking back at the whiskey, she swirled the amber liquid before taking another sip. “Dinner is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes.” Even though she was no longer looking at him, she could sense him still staring at her face, assessing and analyzing her features. He sank into the chair next to her with a soft groan, leaning back with his cigarette between his fingers, staring at the fire with her. “We could postpone if it’s too soon…” he began to offer, but she shook her head.

“No, it’s alright.” She managed a tiny smile. “Just try not to knock this one up too, yeah?”

His brow raised, one side of his lips twitching upwards at the teasing in her tone. Uncrossing his legs, he opened his arms, beckoning her to him.

“Come here.”

The fine crystal of the whiskey glass clinked lightly against the glossy wood of the table when she set it down. Raising from her chair, she let him draw her into his lap, sighing with her head resting on his chest.

“We don’t have to go through with it. Not if you really don’t want to.” Tommy’s voice was a pleasant rumble against her ear. “I’ll find some other way to handle things with Jessie and the revolution.”

“It’s okay,” her fingers swapped fiddling with her rings to play with the buttons on his waistcoat. “It’s the surest way to get what we need out of her.”

He tilted her face up to look into his, eyes again scanning over her analytically. “You tell me if you change your mind. Or if you’re uncomfortable, and we’ll stop.”

“‘Course.”

“I won’t let there be any more…accidents,” she felt him cringe slightly around the word. “I promise.”

With a hum, she pushed her face into his neck, his thumb drawing circles into her thigh. Tommy gave her a squeeze and a peck to the forehead. “I love you.”

The fire popped and crackled in front of them, flames dancing seductively. Lucy watched them in fascination, suddenly taken back to the day of John’s funeral, remembering how the fire had climbed the wood of the vardo, tendrils of flame reaching for the sky, consuming the wagon and John’s body until both were little more than smoldering ash.

It was like a preview, she supposed, of her own funeral pyre someday. Fire was always how she had wanted to go. The idea of being buried under the ground, dead or not, made her skin crawl.

Wrapping her arms around Tommy’s neck, she let her cheek rest against his collarbone, eyes still fixed upon the fire, mind lost faraway in the compilations of death and funerals. Something told her that they were not done with either, yet.

“I love you too.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Dinner with Jessie was actually quite nice. In the setting of one of the warehouses located in Charlie’s yard, she seemed more relaxed, and Tommy worked his verbal magic almost effortlessly. Lucy didn’t say much, opting to sit quietly in her chair, smoking and sipping at her gin, offering Jessie reassuring smiles in an attempt to put her more at ease. When Tommy came to sit down beside her, the toe of his shoe rubbed rhythmically at her calf under the tablecloth.

By the time the food had been cleaned from all three of their plates, they were all wonderfully tipsy, music lilting gently from the gramophone Curly had brought in. Lucy found herself giggling along with Jessie at Tommy’s story from his childhood, when his mother sent him to the store for food and he returned with a top hat and a coconut.

He had his suit jacket off, smiling around his cigarette, ankle hooked around Lucy’s under the table. When he looked at her, his eyes danced brightly at the sight of her smile. He gave a firm squeeze to her thigh before standing and coaxing Jessie into dancing with him. Crossing one leg over the other, Lucy rested the elbow of the arm holding her cigarette on the table, watching them sway while she let puffs of smoke flow from her lips. From over Jessie’s shoulder, Tommy shot her a knowing, moderately mischievous look that had her rolling her eyes fondly and smiling at him. He blew her a subtle kiss that had the smile stretching into a full-blown grin across her cheeks, warmth blossoming in her chest even as he turned his attention back to Jessie.

She could have sworn that she recognized the song playing through the speaker on the gramophone, it taking a few moments of concentration before it dawned on her and a lump formed in her throat. It was a song that Grace used to sing in the Garrison, her low voice and dimpled smile encouraging the men squeezed into the pub to join in bursting into song all around her.

With a long exhale of smoke, she forced the melancholy that the memory brought to also expel from her out into the cool night air. Tommy and Jessie’s faces were hovering in close together, angling ever so slightly so that their lips could meet. Lucy watched them for a moment, feeling a familiar warmth starting to spread through the pit of her stomach, before stubbing out her cigarette into the ashtray and standing.

Tommy let out a soft groan when she pressed her front to his back, her breasts pushing into his shoulder blades while she stretched up on her toes to kisses to his neck. Trailing her fingers along his chest, she popped open the first few buttons on his shirt, delicately stroking over the bare skin and chest hair peeking out of the opened fabric. He started to pull at Jessie’s clothes, moving to pin her against the table they’d all been seated at, but she pulled away, murmuring promises under her breath. Soon, soon. They could get to that soon, but not tonight.

They backed off without a fuss, and Jessie departed not long after that, with a promise that she would arrange a meeting for them with the appropriate people. Tommy ordered one of their boys to walk her home.

“Overall, I would say that was a success,” Lucy commented after they’d gathered up their coats and belongings and stepped out of the yard, holding hands as they picked their way back towards home.

“Yes,” Tommy agreed. “I thought she would be harder to crack.”

“She likes you more than she lets on. And having dinner in the scrapyard was a good idea.” She looked down at their joined hands. “She’s right, you know. You would terrify them over there in the halls of the government.”

He chuckled quietly. “I sincerely doubt that I’d ever be allowed to get on a ballet for any sort of political office. Let alone get elected.”

Lucy shrugged. “You never know. It could be possible, if you found the right strings to pull.” She squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek. “You would be good at it.”

Tommy snorted, eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

“I honestly don’t think it’s all that much different from what we do now. Just cutting deals and negotiations in ornate hallways, rather than dark alleys. It would be the place to go, if you really wanted to set about changing the world.”

“That was Greta’s dream.”

She gave him a stern look in reminder that she knew him far too well for that kind of denial to work on her. He huffed, blue eyes sweeping across the dark streets of his kingdom.

“I suppose it is something that would be worth thinking about.”

Her keys jangled together as she pulled them from her pocket, unlocking the front door for them to slip inside. Asher was sprawled out on the rug by the fireplace in the front sitting room, lifting his huge black head from where he’d had it laid on his paws, tail wagging against the carpet when he saw them.

“Hey, big guy,” Tommy greeted, holding out a hand for Asher to sniff before allowing him to pet him between his perked ears. “You been keeping watch on things for us?”

Asher’s tail wagging increased. With a giggle, Lucy knelt down to kiss her giant puppy between the eyes.

“Who’s a good boy? Hm?” She laughed when he nosed at her palm. “Yeah.”

They got him a bone to gnaw on and left him to happily chomping and guarding the door, the stairs creaking under their boots as they climbed them. A quick peek into Charlie’s room found the boy already tucked in and asleep, before they shuffled off to their own bedroom next door.

The minute that the door closed, Tommy had her back pressed up against it, spreading kisses all along the length of her neck and shoulder, raising his face to meet her eyes, hands cupping her cheeks and thumbs stroking at her lips.

Fingers curling in the material of his waistcoat, she drew him back down to her. He groaned into her mouth, hands pawing at her, grabbing at her hips and palming her breasts through her clothes. Taking both his overcoat and suit jacket in hand, she shoved them together off of his shoulders to clatter to the floor, arms going around his neck to pull him into even deeper kisses. Her entire body shivered when his hands ran down her sides, gripping her waist.

All thoughts–stressed, insecure, or otherwise–save for how soft his mouth was against hers flew right from her head, lost in the warmth of his kisses as he picked her up, and carried her to the bed.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x oc #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #my ocs #my fanfiction #lily writes #love me where i'm most ruined

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accioprocrastination · 2 years ago

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One Day At A Time (Part 1/?)

Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader

T/W: Angst, grief, death, anxiety

A/N: this is pure angst, I feel like you can tell I've been listening to Say Yes to Heaven on repeat since now it has finally been released. This part can be read alone

Summary: the aftermath of Jake being informed that his fiancée is never coming home from deployment.

Hangman is sat grouchy in morning training from being unable to book today off work. He's stuck here in a room full of people that don't know what happened four years ago.

He usually spends the anniversary of your death in bed, under a mountain of blanket, crying as he looks down at the ring he bought you the day after your final deployment. The ring you died before you could receive.

Every day it haunts him that he'll never get to speak to you again, that he'll never laugh with you, that you'll never see the ring; that you'll never have the life you planned.

Javy sits nearby giving Hangman the space he's asked for in years before. He's braced for Jake to act heartless today. He's ready to go around the Hard Deck with an unexplained apology to everyone on Hangman's behalf this evening.

Coyote doesn't expect him to spend the best part of the morning bating Rooster into a fight. Javy feels braced on the edge of his seat, waiting for one of them to finally snap and stand up to take a swing at the other.

The frown that has been glued on Hangman's features since he arrived on base is replaced with a mocking smirk as he's physically separated from Rooster by a wall of other aviators.

"I can't be here." Hangman mutters to Javy as they step outside for a minute.

"Just get through today, tomorrow will be easier." Javy reassures him as he stands there shaking his head.

Tears suddenly blockade his vision as Jake admits, "It's been four years and It feels like it was yesterday."

Releasing a shaking breath he continues, "I miss her so fucking much Coyote." Jake's voice audibly cracks as a few tears begin sliding down his face despite his best effort to blink them away.

Javy grips his arm. "I know." He states not elaborating in the knowledge that there is absolutely nothing he could tell his wingman right now to make that longing go away.

"You know she would tell you to apologise to Bradshaw though right?" Javy smirks.

Jake lets out a small laugh wiping the tears from his face. He knows that's true. You would hate him driving a wedge between anyone in his squad. Hate the possibility of someone not having his back in your absence.

"She would hate you not moving on too." Javy finally vocalises the thought he's not know how to phrase for the last four years.

That's how Jake ended up hooking up with someone he met at the hard deck that evening. Javy pulled him aside and warned him not to do this today. He knows that Jake only pulls women at the bar when he feels shit about himself today is almost certainly one of those days.

In all honestly, every day without you he's felt shit about himself. Javy's told him once before that he's a different person to who he was when they met in flight school.

Jake's thoughts feel cloudy as the girl he picked up this evening starts kissing his neck. All he thinks is that he wishes it was you that was towering over him right now. He shuts his eyes trying to picture the other girl as you.

Before either of them reach any kind of high the girl kisses him on the mouth something he has never let anyone do since you. He starts crying at his mental comparison - the kiss forcing him back into reality that he has let this girl into your bed.

"Are you okay?" She asks instantly detaching from him and jumping out of bed to get dressed.

"No." He bellows muffling himself with his pillow.

"Right... well I'm gonna go. Best of luck with whatever the fuck this is." The short blonde says before practically sprinting out the door.

Jake lies there clutching his throat as it constricts, gasping for air as a wave of panic washes over him. His hands shake with anxiety as he moves one to clutch his chest - he feels like he's having some form of cardiac problem.

If he hadn't met you and experienced your panic attacks, he's not sure he would recognise that's what this is.

Sobs uncontrollably rack Jake's body, until he's is too exhausted from sleep deprivation to fuel the worry. He sits down on the floor of your bedroom panting as he starts to break his hysteria.

When he stops crying he feels a headache gnawing behind his eyes and tries his best to ignore it. He finds a bottle of water in his work bag and downs it as he walks to the bathroom to go shower.

Standing under the freezing water he starts scrubbing his skin raw where she's kissed him. Only once his teeth are chattering from the cold, does he gets out and change the sheets of your bed.

Climbing underneath the covers, he does something he knows is going to hurt, he opens his photo app only to be instantly greeted with your smiling face looking back at him.

"I wish you were here baby... You should be here." he whispers stoking your face on the small screen, talking to you like you can hear him. His therapist told him if he wants to talk to you he should just talk it out.

"I miss you every minute of every day." His voice is barley audible at the admission.

"I'd give anything to know what happened to you." He says transfixed by the photo.

Missing your voice talking to him he switches to his videos and starts playing them one after the other. It's agony to watch you laugh with him.

He knows Javy would say this was self enforced torture but continues anyway.

He gets to a video of you shouting at him for recording you while you were doing your makeup.

Pausing it he starts telling you about his day instead of smiling at your smart ass retorts.

"I instigated a fight with Bradshaw today. It was stupid and I know I didn't mean anything I said. Sometimes I just feel so numb, so empty that I need someone to punch me just to feel something." He states.

"Everything is overwhelming me today now. I've made it another year apart from you and I don't know how I'm going to do another one. One day at a time is such a bullshit answer to this." Jake vocalises.

Javy is sat across town in the Hard Deck with the other aviators. "Why are you apologising for him, he's not here." Phoenix remarks looking around as Coyote approaches Bradley.

"He's had a stick up his ass all day Coyote, you don't need to defend him when he's not here." Bob chips in.

"There's a reason why he's been so... confrontational?" Javy pauses unsure if that is the correct phrasing he wants to use. "- Today" he continues.

"You guys need to cut Hangman some slack for today." Javy states.

"What's the reason?" Payback asks.

"He'll tell you when he's ready." Coyote says, "It's the anniversary of something traumatic that affected him. Be gentle tomorrow, if he lashes out he's just tired." Coyote doesn't elaborate any further.

"I'm gonna go check on him." He steps away from the group, not registering Fanboy following him.

"It's Nova right?" Fanboy pries.

Javy pretends not to hear as he walks to the door.

"I served with her when I was first stationed. I heard what happened to her. I knew she was dating someone called Jake but I didn't put two and two together until just now... I won't tell the others." He assures Javy.

The day before the mission they all independently venture back out to the hard deck and settle for drinks on the beach. The day after tomorrow they all go their separate ways - redeployed to different corners of the world.

"I'm sorry for everything." Jake says to Bradley, in earshot of the rest of the group.

"What's changed to suddenly make you feel guilty after the last few years?" Rooster raises an eyebrow at his fellow aviator.

"I've never hated you, you've just always been there when I'm at my worst... I think I lost myself and Javy is right I can't keep living in this stasis." Jake acknowledges that everything he's said to Bradley over the years is because of what grief has made him.

"What am I right about?" Javy asks Jake from where he's sat on the sand. Jake doesn't meet his eyes he just glances out at the waves.

"That I am a shell of who I was and I don't know how to get back." Jake says, voice sounding small but loud enough for everyone else there to stop and listen to his atonement.

"Every day I tell myself tomorrow will be easier, then tomorrow comes and it's not, so I take it out on whoever is in my line of vision." He confesses his thoughts to everyone, mainly talking to Javy.

"I am still so in love with her." Jake discloses shutting his eyes again willing his feelings away.

"I don't know how to fall out of love with her." He turns to Javy.

"You're never going to fall out of love with her. You asked her to marry you." Javy reminds him of his impatience. Jake had been scouting vintage ring shops for months for your ring but kept coming up empty, he couldn't wait any longer and asked you without one.

"If there's a girl out there that you care about, call her right now and win her back" Phoenix instructs Hangman, mildly concerned by how unnerved he's acting.

"You're one of the best of the best - call her." Rooster reiterates.

"S-s-s-sh-she was KIA." Jake stammers to inform everyone.

Part 2

#jake seresin #tgm #top gun #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman angst #top gun au #top gun x reader #top gun hangman

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nerdieforpedro · 11 months ago

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One Pass for the Both of Us

Lucian Flores x female reader x Benny Miller

This fanfiction is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Double Features Masterlist

Word Count: less than 2.8k

Summary: You and your boyfriend Lucian have the same man in mind it seems.

Warnings: established relationship, fingering, smoking, sweatpants, a gold chain, curious phone use, exhibitionist behavior, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up people), one swat of an ass, aftercare

Notes: So this idea was born from thots as 90% of my ideas. Why do a sandwich? Because Nerdie is trying new things this year. Sandwiches are one of them. And why not these two? I mean look at them. There's a fair bit of Spanish in this fic and I did my best with translations, but I'm not fluent in Spanish so it's anything's wrong please let me know. Was not beta-ed.

The left gif was made by @pascalsky

“We’re going to try something a little different bebita (baby girl). Get on all fours.” His thumb was tucked into the waistband on his gray sweatpants, they hung loosely off his hips and his slight tummy hung over them. You don’t want to listen to him, not yet. He’s only made your lips swollen, but the wrong pair. You softly pant, your chest rising and falling against your black lace bra.

“No Lu, I don’t feel like it. You told me your nose was going to be buried in my cunt with your tongue, but you haven’t kept up your end of the bargain.” Grinning, the ball of your foot presses against his belly as he grabs your ankle. His grip pulls your leg toward him and his lit cigarette dangles from his lips. He smirks, smacking your ass with his free hand and looks down at you.

“You’re gonna tell me no after I told called you this morning and told you to meet me by your car?” Lucian momentarily releases your ankle and removes his cigarette from his lips, putting it out on the ashtray seated on the night table of your apartment. You don’t smoke, but you know he does, before and after sex so you bought one to keep for when he comes by. “Such a damn tease querida (sweetheart). Though, because you didn’t see me while you were at work, I found something you might like.” He grabs your ankle again and pulls it to the side, spreading you partway before kneeling at the side of the bed. His eyes were trained on your clit, exposed by your crotchless panties, the cool air met your lower lips and you moaned. Placing the back of your knee on his shoulder, he blew on your small bundle of nerves, his tongue had extended but had not come into contact with your skin yet.

His phone rang and he answered it. Your eyes went wide, and you glared at him while he was answering a few questions and giving some instructions. You knew that Lucian could be a lot at times, but this was a new one. You sat up on your elbows and yelled at him to which he glanced at you and slid a finger across your wetness, you were able to cover half your moan by clasping your hands over your mouth. His fingers are sliding in and out of you slowly as he stands and wedges his phone between his shoulder and his ear. Lucian moves his fingers faster inside you while capturing both your wrists in his hand. “Let our guest hear querida, he’ll need to know how wet you can get. Don’t cover your mouth again.” You weren’t sure who the man was that Lucian was referring to, but your hips jutted forward with his fingers as he released your wrists. The phone was placed on speaker and the cool plastic of the case was felt on your skin. It was tucked in between your pelvis and your lace panties. “You hear her? She sounds perfect, doesn’t she? You keep taking your sweet time, we won’t need you.” A man snickers on the phone as you hear a door open, both on your phone and in your bedroom.

He’s here. He hasn’t hung up the phone yet though and is watching as Lucian curls his fingers within you, your legs spreading further apart. “Looks like I’m not late at all Lucy. Just getting to the good part with that look on your face honey. You remember me?” He hangs up the phone as he slips off his socks, shoes you assume are near your door and his shirt, which displays his taut muscles and the waistband of the black sweatpants that he’s wearing. It appears like Lucian, he isn’t wearing any underwear either.

A thumb grazes your clit and your body arches toward your beau, his gold chain, dangles while his lips kiss your inner thigh. The curse you let our makes the man who you assume to be called Benny chuckle as he leans over you, his fingers grazing your cheek. “I see why every match you kept a tight hold on her. I would too. So, how do you want to start?”

“You’re Benny Miller….from matches we’ve seen….the last few months…” You pant, you’re sure it’s him. Every match you were seated on Lucian’s lap and watch the man pummel his opponents while taking quite the beating himself. It didn’t dawn on you why he was here and why he was calling Lucian by a nickname. You don’t have enough information. It becomes clearer when think digits are removed from your cunt with a small pop and placed on Benny tongue, he opened his mouth for Lucian and didn’t cut eye contact with you. Flores told Benny ‘Tomalo (take it)’ and the hulking man did. He purposely sucked loudly on his fingers while your core ached watching them. “Coño (fuck) Lu, When…did this happen?”

Lucian took your hand and placed it on Benny’s waistband. “Make out guest feel welcome mi amor (my love). He’s what you wanted, your one hall pass right? You’ll have him, but I’ll be here.” You hadn’t thought he’d been paying your drunk ramblings at an MMA fight any attention, but apparently despite being slippery in many other aspects of life, Lucian was a man of his word. The deep chuckle from Lucian snapped you out of your haze, his other hand removed the phone from your panties and ran his palm over your stomach. “He was my pick mine too. I knew you had good taste amor, it’s why you’re with me.” Nodding, you decide overthinking will lead to them continuing their own and you’d rather not have that, so down you pull Benny’s sweats to expose to swollen reddish pink member, the inside of his sweats are glistening with precum.

“You’ve got quite a pair of lungs on you sweetheart. Show me what that throat of yours can do.” Miller looks down at you, his mouth free of Lucian’s fingers. Flores decides to lay across the bed, feigning that he’s tired. You’re aware he likely has something else planned but you’re focused on the thick cock in front of you, kissing its bulbous head. Your hand cups his balls as you adjust yourself on your knees, the other pressing into the muscle of his thigh, brown hairs dot it and grow thicker toward his cock. You decide to explore the vein on the side of his shift, coating it with your tongue before using your lips to nipple at the wrinkled skin of his tentacles. The sweet hiss you hear from Benny tells you that you’re on the right track and you feel Lucian’s eyes burrowing into your back. A calloused hand of Miller’s runs through your hair, you accept him into your mouth in earnest, accepting half his length before you need to pull back and begin again, not letting the head of his cock beyond your lips when bobbing your head.

Benny’s hips are beginning to match your pace and his groans are increasing. Lucian locks eyes with him as his hunger stirs, he needs to be inside one of them. He’s palming over his gray sweats, making a darkened spot on the front of them, sweat dripping onto his gold chain. He pulls down his sweats to seek relief, but Benny shakes his head at Flores, tilting his head in your direction. There’s a wordless agreement between the men on who will have your tight core first. Lucian says nothing as he sits up and moved behind you, pulling his sweatpants down to his knees before placing his own dripping heat at your entrance. He raises your bra to release your breasts as he squeezes them, leaning over to speak in your ear, making sure all present can hear as he slips inside of you, “Since you saw Benny walk in, you couldn’t wait to get you lips round his cock querida? Mi durazno perfecto y mojado (My perfect and wet peach).”

Between Lucian’s rough thrusts and Benny’s hips, your neck and pelvis screaming at you, but your throat and cunt are doing quite the opposite, squeezing both men for what they’re willing to give you. Miller, is the first to pull back, needing to push on your shoulders as you’d since placed both hands firmly on his thighs and pulled on his sweats to try and have his cock back. The whine you let out increases in pitch as Lucian’s arm pulled you to his chest and his movements became more erratic, he was close as well, moaning your name aloud. Miller watched the two of you licking his lips and pumping his cock slowly. He’d pulled you off because he didn’t want to waste his load in your mouth. That could happen another time, maybe before or after a match. He wanted to mix his seed with Lucian’s inside of you as he drilled you into the bed. “Shit, the two of you screw like this all the time. Looks like I’m doing it wrong.” Flores smirked at Benny before kissing the back of neck as he unloaded into you, making sure to follow up with slow thrusts as he softened, feeling you milk his cock as you climaxed a second time. He didn’t pull out of you yet, he was waiting for Miller. Benny was taking his sweet time finally removing his black sweatpants, getting on the bed, and engaged you in a slow kiss, tasting himself on your lips. Your eyes fluttered and your mouth felt dry and wet simultaneously, the only reason you were upright were because of Lucian and Benny.

“Hey Lu. Taste me.” The fighter gave Lucian a soft smile as he slipped to your side and kissed Lucian, gasping for air. He absorbed his lingering nicotine flavor as their tongues lapped one another. Your cavern was vibrating as you heard them and ran the palm of your hand on the underside of Benny’s heavy cock. His hand moved yours away and placed it on his chest. He nodded to Lucian and they broke their kiss as Flores moved from behind you and let you fall back on the bed. Benny put each hand under the back of your knees and spread you wide, watching Flores’ spend dripping out of you. “Stuffed her pretty well Lu. Sit back and watch. Your little honey and I are going to give you a good show.”

Lucian had grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lighter off the nightstand and lit one. He claimed his seat in the overstuffed chair you had in your bedroom where you swore you read in the evenings, but usually you two would face time if he had business out of state to take care of. “Damelo (fuck me) Benny, por favor (please).” You repeated as Benny stuck his head between your breasts before taking a nipple in his mouth, the head of his cock dragged along your dripping cunt.

“You’re a dumbass Miller. She’s asking you to fuck her. That’s why you’re here.” A long drag of his cigarette as he inhaled then blew it out of his nose slowly. Benny saw his gold chain flicker within the haze of smoke, Lucian sat wide his long member hung off the edge of the chair. “You need to stir her up as she likes. Despite being a bit of a puta (slut) sometimes, Estás mujer buena (She’s a good woman). She deserves it. Let’s see how well you do.” Flores flicked his chin taunting Benny and he took the bait, using his teeth to give your nipple a soft bite. He winked and maneuvered his hand between the two of you and plunged himself into you. Your head flung back as you felt the stretch of him and your hands were back on his chest, then to his shoulders to pull him closer. Benny paused, needing a few seconds to make sure he didn’t shoot directly into you right at the start.

“Dammit to hell sweetheart, you’re a vice.” Miller began slow, rocking into with his eyes closed, focused on finding a good rhythm first. Your eyes turned slowly to Lucian who was watching as Benny’s pace started to pick up. He was continuing to smoke, the smile never leaving his face as he watched you. Your lover sat comfortably in the chair watching as your moans began increasing again. When Miller opened his eyes, he saw where you were looking and had an idea, momentarily pulling out of you as he sat on the edge of the bed and dragged you with him. “You wanna keep an eye on your man honey, I got you. He’ll see you use me to come again. Third time’s the charm right?”

“I don’t care if he sees or not, just get that dick back in me Miller!” You yelled and Benny furrowed his brows while Lucian slapped his own thigh releasing more smoke. You felt as the MMA fighter positioned you on his lap, you back to him and his cock was rubbing against your folds. “Ay…Just stick it in…” You begged, moving your hips weakly. You were tired but not out. You were going to experience this man’s cock. Lucian had him come to your home just for this.

“Bebita is an impatient one. You may want to get to it Benny and stop playing around. She looks tired, but she’ll hop off your lap and smack you.” Lucian smirked and so did you, he was aware of your passionate pursuit of your orgasms. The ashtray welcomed another cigarette and he lit another, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees as Benny lifted your hips and sunk you down on his full length. He dragged you up and down slowly, letting your walls learn the ridges of his cock. “Your balls look a bit tight there Miller. Don’t blow your load too soon. She needs to come first.”

“Shut the hell up Lu. You talk too damn much.” Benny was trying to focus, but between Lucian’s smoking, your contracting cunt and his own peak nearly reached, he was fighting a losing battle. You were calling his name between your whines when Lucian stood and looked down at the two of you after walking to the side of the bed. The cigarette hung between his lips as his chain dangled near his clavicle, Lucian squatted before you, watching Benny’s cock be sucked in by your core. One of his hands reached to poke your clit as he looked up at you and you looked down.

“Mi amor es muy linda. (My love is so pretty). Damelo amor.” Lucian kisses between your breasts as Benny curses from your tightened core. The tenderness from Lucian always makes you flutter and you feel yourself floating, curling back against Benny’s chiseled chest as he falls back against the bed, heaving like he’s had a twelve-round match. You felt his softened cock slip out of you as you closed your eyes, Benny’s body was so warm against your back in contrast to your chest, stomach and legs which were all cool. You weren’t sure where Lucian had gone, but you feel yourself moved off of Benny and straightened up in the bed, you head toward the headboard. A warm cloth is soon between your legs and you hear Lucian bickering with Benny. Miller is stating that since he’s a guest and as such, Lucian should wipe him down too. Lucian states that he needed his help to make you come so no, he should wipe himself down. You giggled and they both turn to you and agree to wipe individually before getting in bed.

“You’re staying?” You asked Benny as he snuggled behind you. He frowns.

“You want me to go honey?” The tall man asks and Lucian slips in the bed in front of you.

“I can tell him to leave querida. He’ll need to try harder another day, if you want.” Lucian leaves the choice to bring Benny back up to you. He kisses your shoulder as Benny slips a finger under Lucian’s gold chain, tracing it before running his finger up into his curls.

“We’ll get some sleep and see what we can work out when we wake up later.” The smile on your face is playful and you’re looking forward to resting up and what comes next. Turns out it’s a great thing when your boyfriend and you have the same man in mind.

Peeps who plan their hall passes 🎫 : @yorksgirl @heareball @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @rhoorl @sin-djarin @magpiepills @morallyinept @lady-bess @inept-the-magnificent @wannab-urs @gasolinerainbowpuddles @megamindsecretlair @alltheglitterandtheroar

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #lucien flores #garrett hedlund #benny miller #sandwich #sandwiches #a Nerdie fic

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baelpenrose · 1 month ago

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Project Praetorian 56: Arrival, Part II

The battle of Philidelphia starts in earnest. Shiloh and Echo engage in a deadly battle of maneuver - and Echo begins a dangerous contest to level the playing field against the Ascendancy's orbital guns. Sorry about the delay by the way, everyone! I was busy travelling with my fiance! This chapter was beta read by @writing-with-olive and @canyouhearthelight

Shiloh

Shiloh was flooring the pedal on the commandeered SUV, knowing full well that Amaryllis was flying overhead, with Echo backing her up. In the car behind them, Jonathan drove, his movements if anything wilder.

Weave through the burned out cars - then suddenly see a small mob of Croaks, pull into a skidding turn as Mia stuck an arm out the window, a machine pistol in hand, and held down the trigger. At the end of the shooting, Shiloh threw the car into reverse and kept driving - even as they saw Jonathan splatter the one Croak that had survived the sudden spray of bullets with his car, leaving the vehicle dented.

They allowed themself a grim smile - but they admitted Mark’s point. The fighting hadn’t really started yet - they were mostly getting bombed, with whatever forces were moving around the city mostly here to call orbital strikes and destroy anything that still had people in it.

It struck Shiloh how empty the city was. Most people had very clearly evacuated - too late, maybe, or maybe they’d tried to hide, but there was no one moving around from what Shiloh saw. Many of those who hadn’t had put up some kind of fight - as they drove around, Shiloh saw scattered bodies, alien and what was left of human corpses. Aliens bore the wounds of small arms fire, civilian weapons fired at close range, the humans had died with Glocks or home defense shotguns in hand, oftentimes failing to take an attacker with them - but sometimes succeeding. At the door of one house sprawled the corpse of a Spike - though from the fact the house was in flames, Shiloh could easily guess that it’s companions had still torn the place apart with plasma.

Kimmy tapped their shoulder and signed. “Mark wants an ammo check?”

They signed, off hand. “Haven’t fired yet.”

“Right and Mia’s only down one mag. I’ll let him know.”

Thus far, battle was going their way - sort of. They were still trying to probe out what enemies they could before shit got really real.

The Pennsylvania Historical Society was a beautiful old, brick building, arches, high windows - the kind of place that Shiloh could appreciate aesthetically, if only because places that looked like that were usually libraries of some kind and Shiloh could almost always find something to do in a library that didn’t require struggling with some hearing person.

Then again, today, it was surrounded by Spikes moving up towards it, fanned out in a wedge like they were trying to figure out if it had humans inside. They had little doubt that if the Ascendency forces discovered it had in fact, become a survivor rally point, it would shortly be blasted from orbit, and Shiloh applied the brakes.

Everyone hopped out, even as the Spikes turned to engage the car - everyone was already shooting. Molly opened her mouth and Shiloh felt something move in the air.

Some of the Spikes dropped immediately, but the Praetorians were fortunate. Some of the enemy were fast - this wasn’t a rabble of Croaks, these were the Ascendency’s proper warrior caste, and they were trained, disciplined, and motivated. There was a tiny delay as the team scattered - and Shiloh realized that Molly must have bought them just a tiny delay in the enemy firing their weapons for the team to scatter from the vehicles before the Spikes could open fire.

As it was, Shiloh felt a flash of pain on their right side, and slapped the new burn until it faded. They glanced around, another blast turning the wall they were hiding behind to dust and forcing them to dive again, even as they felt a hum in their teeth - and only a few moments later, saw a Spike’s head vanish in a welter of gore.

Mark was clenching his teeth, hand clamped over a burn on his neck and face, and Jonathan was laying down a welter of fire to force the aliens to keep their heads down.

The aliens kept shooting, and Xavier lobbed another grenade at them, even as Kimmy got back to her feet - the damage on her armor indicating she’d actually gotten fucked up by a blast herself.

Another spike died and Shiloh realized that Vergil had vanished - and so had Micah.

Shiloh glanced at Jonathan - realized he was too busy pinning down the enemy to see them. Mia was moving like she was going to try to flank the enemy and get an angle - and the next moment, Mia made her move, bolting around the side, heedless of the plasma blasts that zipped around her, detonating just inches too far for her to be burned, Mia already speeding away from them. The speedster zipped between cover, and as Shiloh watched, found herself around the corner of the building that the Spikes had hidden - and emptied her clip into the exposed flank of three of them, who went down in a shower of too-bright gore.

THe last alien soldier dropped as Vergil fired again.

Shiloh rushed over to Mark, getting him back to his feet, and checked in with Kimmy, who gasped as she shrugged.

Mark was talking into the comms.

Echo

“Cypher, I’m going to need you down here after all.”

“Clarify, Storm.” The callsigns still sounded a little ridiculous, but since they were likely to run into civilians this time, it made more sense to use them rather than names, at least for now.

“Enemy forces are using some kind of communicator to call down orbital strikes. I need you to hack that communication net and compromise it. We have the civilian rally point secured for aerial evac, but the city is crawling with teams of Spikes calling down orbital strikes and if we start an evacuation this place is going to get glassed. I need you to come collect some tech we recovered and compromise their comms so they can’t call in the bombing - I’ll deal with whatever bigger ground forces come as a result.”

She realized he was asking her to save a city and very possibly the war until Raytheon actually developed actual sci fi weapons like Mass Accelerator Cannons or anti-orbital railguns or equivalent. Then again for all she knew, those had been in the works since first contact. “I’m not certain I can do…”

Mark’s voice grew very tired. “I need you to try. Tell Skyflower to get you down here- civvie base secured, but I can’t open the place up or get the rest of the transports here until I’m not going to be painting a target for the assholes in orbit.”

“Fuck, Storm.”

“Cope, Cypher.”

She leaned back from her comms. “Skyflower, the Lieutenant says we have to land, apparently he captured alien comms he wants me to look at.”

“Understood, Warrant Officer.” Amaryllis switched to general frequency and then said, probably to Mark, or maybe Vergil, “Make sure the area is actually fully clear before I drop her in - I don’t want some spotter calling in a different strike once they see me landing.”

“10-4.”

Echo felt a knot of tension in her chest - she scolded herself for being a coward, she knew she shouldn’t be so worried about stepping onto a battlefield, kind of hated sitting it out when all her friends were fighting for their lives, but at the same time, her powers were best kept in reserve for when they could actually turn the tide.

“Negative contact - Vergil got one way out at the edge of visual range but there’s no indication it was in range to accurately call coordinates for a strike.”

They touched down only a few minutes later, and she was greeted by Casey and Jonathan. Casey reeked of burning alien, Jonathan of gunpowder and blood. He was splattered in the too-dark gore of a Spike from what had probably been a close-contact fight. Jared, Mark and Xavier were watching the perimeter.

Then Casey was pressing a device into her hand, something that wasn’t a weapon and seemed to be some kind of scanner, covered in alien blood but undamaged, and Echo was running back to the gunship to take off at the insistence of Amaryllis, hugging Casey and Jonathan before she left, hoping she’d see them again when the battle ended.

“Keep them from raining hell on us.” Casey called after her. “We’ll handle the guys on the ground.”

Echo had her hand on the device almost the minute Amaryllis took off, saying something about repositioning, making sure that they could maneuver so that the enemy didn’t get a lock on wherever Echo was while she worked - or that if they did, it only killed the two of them rather than the whole team.

As they took off, Echo took a breath. “I’m going to turn off my comms til I’m done, guys. Until it’s done, I can’t help anyway - and hearing chatter is only going to distract me.”

“Understood. Be back in contact once you finish.”

She took a breath and pushed her brain into the captured alien communicator, feeling her consciousness impose itself over circuits and code. It was a communication device, which brought down her first anxiety - now to make sure it was dialed into the surface-to-orbit frequency.

As she pushed herself into the channels, her vision, her senses blurring, distorting each time she did, brain filling with alien signals before her brain was able to impose its own language model and shift it into standard code languages she knew and understood. She was able to determine that there was some kind of ground channel - maneuver, ground command…

“Cypher…”

She felt a violent jolt as Amaryllis did something, then heard the clatter of the ship’s chainguns as Amaryllis made someone miserable below them.

Focus, focus. High command - she wanted some data out of that, but she’d almost certainly be locked out if she started compromising it, and higher priority was shutting down the orbital strikes. Surface to orbit - that was probably it.

What to…

Amaryllis gave another shout, and Echo found herself slammed against her spine as the ship began moving much, much faster - as though it’s engines had all shifted orientation abruptly. “Hurry up, Echo! I think they noticed you!”

They had, something was trying to lock her out. Scrambling for purchase, shoving pieces of code in places they didn’t belong, not enough to stop the net, just enough to confuse it and whoever was trying to punt her out. She was already in, now she had to create confusion. She put in one false signal, one matched to the coordinates of where a ground force was, apparently, and saw a distress signal and a panicked cancellation as something that was probably a confirm call came up.

Then she started trying to override the cancellation - when that failed, she ordered a second shot at a different ground force, before ordering a check fire on a third location and creating a ‘ghost’ spotter unit - a spotter force that didn’t exist, but would look like it did in the computer - then, as she realized whoever she was up against was clearly overwhelmed, she began setting in orders on just about every present ground unit - then canceling half of them, letting the other units cancel the other half, letting her ‘ghost’ spotter unit get hit and causing panic about friendly fire even though she’d just erased a building they’d already passed and confirmed as empty.

In the midst of all this, Echo had begun seeding the net with more and more bad code, signal interference, the kinds of things that made a signal weaker and less direct - more vulnerable to the kind of chaos all out fighting would cause - until she saw the net crash.

She got back into her normal comms. “Orbital strike capacity neutralized, continue search and destroy and call in Evac for civvies while we can.” She leaned against the bulkhead on the dropship, head pounding, and took a swig of water.

Amaryllis laughed. “Already working on search and destroy. Pretty sure Whiplash and Titan are on it too.”

Mark’s voice came across the comms. “Understood. If you can, get back into their comms and let me know when they go to their very obvious backup and send a fuckton of ground troops, atmo-craft, and armor.”

“Give me one minute, then I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks. We’ve got the infantry C130s coming in to drop off the troopers and pick up the civvies already.”

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #my writing #Project Praetorian #science fiction #original sci fi #sci fi #traumatized characters #found family #tw: guns #tw: explosions #tw: orbital

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callsign-magnolia · 1 year ago

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Can you write a little something fluffy about Bob? Maybe about him on a first date?

AH! I sure can! I'm loving the multiple Bob asks that I'm getting! Thank you so much for the ask, babe! 🥰

I fixed my dress in the mirror for the fifth time. "Why is it that when I have something important is when nothing wants to fit right?" I asked, huffing and storming back into my closet. I searched through the rack and came up with nothing. The pale purple skater dress I had on would have to do. I slipped on some white wedges before grabbing my phone. "Shit!" I cursed, rushing downstairs. I was gonna be late for my date. I got into my car and sped through town, finding a parking spot right on time. I took a few deep breaths before getting out of my car and hiking my purse up on my shoulder. I looked down at my phone to see a text.

I'm by the coffee cart on the corner of Lakeview and Memorial. 😁

I was parked off Memorial and it was a short walk. I was surprised when my date asked me to join him at a farmers market. But it was different and I was excited and nervous all at once. Once I made it to the corner I looked around and saw him across the street. I took a deep breath and approached the blonde. "Robert?" I asked and he turned to me, a small smile appearing on his face. "H-hi." He said, holding out his hand. I think his nerves were worse than mine, so I just grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hug. "Hi." I said before we pulled away. "You look... beautiful." He said and a blush crept up my neck. "Thank you. You look very handsome." He had on a blue button up and khakis. "I really like your glasses." I said and he shook his head. "No one like BCG's." He said and I giggled, raising a brow. "BCG's?" I asked and he sighed. "I'm a Weapon's System Officer in the Navy and I have to wear these when we fly. They're so ugly we refer to them as birth control goggles. Tends to repel women." He said and I laughed.

"Well I think they suit you, and you still look very handsome with your BCG's." I said and he smiled, holding out his elbow for me to take. I wrapped my hand around his bicep, feeling the thick muscle hidden beneath his sleeve. "I thought we could get breakfast, then go and shop around a little." I smiled and nodded. "Sure. Sounds fun." We sat down for breakfast and I couldn't choose between waffles or pancakes, so Robert ordered waffles and I ordered pancakes before we split them in half and had both. "This was a wonderful idea." I said when I finished my food. "Like I said, why pick when you can have both?" He asked and I giggled. After breakfast he once again offered me his elbow as we walked. We walked around and he bought some vegetables and I found a candle that smelled heavenly. I stopped, looking at a stand with a bunch of preserves on it, and I was so focused I didn't realize Robert had stepped away.

I turned and was surprised to see a bouquet of purple tulips in front of me. "Oh, Robby!" I gasped. "They're beautiful." I said, taking the bouquet from him. I looked up to see him looking at me. "What?" I asked. "You called me Robby." He said and another blush crept onto my cheeks. "I'm sorry." I said and he shook his head. "No, I liked it. No ones ever called me Robby before." He said and I smiled at him, taking his arm one more time. "Well I'm glad I'm the first." I said as we walked up the street. We had been to every booth here and there was nothing else to do. "I know dates usually end after a few hours." He said, looking down at me. "But I really, really don't want this date to end." He said and I nodded in agreement. "Me either." I said and he smiled at me, his eyes so much brighter than they were and his smile lit up his face. "So, with that being said. Would you want to come back to my place? Cook dinner with me?" He asked and I couldn't help but smile and nod. "I'd love too, Robby." I said before taking his arm again.

Just realized this could be a prequel to the ask I did earlier!

Celebrate 500 followers with me! Send me an ask with an aviator and an idea and I'll write it! 🎉

#ask away #you ask #kay answers!#KayKay's 500 follower celebration

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the12thnightproject · 1 year ago

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Chapter 28: … Polo. A long dark game of hide and seek on the open ocean.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

As the roof buckled and rolled, I dug down into my muscles for an extra burst of speed. In my peripheral vision, I could see Mitsuhide keeping pace with me. Underneath my feet, the crumbling certamic tile cracked and shattered, sending shards through the leather of my shoes. Then the building pitched backward, and I slid back with it, until Mitsuhide grabbed my arm and flung me at the tree.

Instinctively, I reached for the branch. The slick bark stung my hands, but I held on.

Where was Mitsuhide? I hadn’t sensed him leaping for the tree as well.

Smoke billowed around us, with a whooshing backdraft, and I looked for Mitsuhide, only to find him half in the tree… with his foot wedged behind him in the fence. “Go!”

Not happening.

In fact, Hideyoshi had already grabbed onto the Mitsuhide and was hauling him toward us. Mai and and I added our weight, and we pulled him clear just as the building went up in flames. Behind him, even the fence collapsed under the shockwave of heat and sparks.

There was no time to celebrate our escape. Though the explosion and resulting fire had probably bought us some breathing room, since Motonari’s soldiers were going to need to try to save their weapons and supplies, there was still the issue of getting off this island.

None of us hesitated as we hurried through the trees, rushing toward the cove. The fire-glow night was not enough illumination, and the path was slick and full of roots and gravel that made a flat out sprint dangerous to our health. From feel of things, the roof had sliced my shoe open, and it was harder to get a grip on the ground. Hideyoshi was clutching his ribs, and Mitsuhide was limping, but both stopped to help Mai when she tripped over a log and went sprawling.

Behind us, footsteps crashed through the brush – it sounded like they’d sent a few men after us. Hideyoshi reached for his sword, and only now did I wonder where he’d gotten it from. Possibly taken it off one of the soldiers in the camp while he and Mitsuhide were trying to get to Mai. But even as Hideyoshi turned to face what was behind us, Mitsuhide was there first, easily dispatching a soldier with a swift smooth strike of his sword.

And then we were joined by Kyubei who slashed at the enemy with a pair of short swords using a speed and grace that I envied.

Above us on the mountain, there was another explosion, this one louder than the first. The rest of their gunpowder, I supposed.

It wasn’t long before the men attacking us decided they were fighting a losing battle, and scurried off into the forest.

“Boat is loaded.” Kyubei cleaned off his swords with an easy flick that sent whatever blood he’d drawn into the earth.

“Good.” Mitsuhide nodded at Hideyoshi, patted Mai’s arm and … ignored me completely as he led the way to the cove. Hopefully the small boat could fit five people, because otherwise, I could almost bet that I would be the first person to be kicked out.

When we reached the safety… well, the relative safety of the cove, I hung back to watch the others. It was the first moment to catch our breath… for them to reunite.

Kyubei bowed solemnly to Hideyoshi, let himself be hug-mugged by Mai, who then turned to Mitsuhide and flung her arms around him too. He froze a moment and closed his eyes, lightly patting the back of her head, but I saw it. A quick flash of unguarded pain, before the kitsune’s mask returned.

And though I had already suspected, in fact, known, seeing it played out on his face caused my stomach to momentarily clench up, followed by a cold tingling in my limbs.

He loves her.

If there had ever been any doubt of that, it would have been erased in that moment. I recalled the lock of hair that Mitsuhide had kept hidden in the box where he had secreted Aki’s letter. Mai’s hair.

Did Hideyoshi know? I glanced over at the man to check, but he wasn’t even looking at them. He was leaning over, breathing hard. Yes he definitely was a worse condition than Mai. I dug through the supplies and found a waterskin for him.

He took a long drink. "Thank you.'' He handed it back to me. "I'm sorry, young man. I don't know your name."

Mai suddenly laughed. "I didn’t get her name either."

At that Hideyoshi squinted at me, smiled and bowed. "Young lady, then." He turned to Mitsuhide. “You involved an innocent young girl in your schemes?” Even half out of breath, he sounded like a disappointed parent.

"This-" Mitsuhide plopped his hand on top of my head, and there was a warning in that pressure, "young, ahem, lady is Kaya.” Oh joy we were keeping that damn name then? "And if you'll excuse us for a moment, we need to have a refresher course on following directions." Then he glanced up at the mountain. “Or will as soon as we cast off.”

The royal we had returned with a vengeance, I see. How 'we' were going to have a private lesson on a boat the size of a studio apartment, I don’t know... but once we all climbed aboard, Mai snuggled up with her man, and Kyubei expertly got to work manning the sail, so I supposed it constituted enough privacy for Mitsuhide’s lecture.

He reached toward me, and I had the urge to flinch and duck, even though I knew he would never physically punish me. In fact, all he did was remove the shredded shoe from my foot. He held it up to the lantern light. “This… might have been you. Or Mai. Do you perhaps believe that because there were no casualties to your action that you are safe from the ramifications?”

In fact, I did not believe that at all. Not when the evidence of his low voiced anger was in front of my eyes. Still, I had to at least make an attempt to if not defend, at least to explain myself. "I had every intention of staying in the tree.” It’s not like this time I planned to ignore his orders, but the circumstances had called for improvisation.

"And, yet, you left the safety of the tree, left your post, putting my entire scheme at risk. You put Mai at risk." Clearly the latter was the most egregious error. I had risked Mai’s life. Or at least, he believed I had.

She glanced up at the sound of her name. Though I am sure she and Hideyoshi were trying to ignore us, but out here nothing was private.

"She was already in danger because of the second guard. I thought I could just-" In my attempt to explain matters, I was getting things out of order. I tried again. "I thought-"

Mitsuhide put his finger on my lips. "Our agreement was for obedience, not thought." He returned my shoe, then rummaged through the supplies and pulled out a small ceramic jar. “Your foot, if you will.”

It took me a moment to process the change in topic, then I realized that the jar contained salve. As requested, I extended my foot toward him, and he silently rubbed the ointment over my scrapes. Even through the cloak of his anger, there was still gentleness to his touch, harking back to the days after my concussion, when he had massaged healing oil on my forehead.

"Wait." Mai, who, I realized, had been silently observing our discussion, tried to interject her opinion. "I don't know exactly what’s going on, but Kaya saved me after I- "

Boom!

Whatever else she was going to say would have to wait.

As our boat cleared the mouth of the cove, Motonari's ship lurked, ready to greet us.

While the cannonball didn’t come close to hitting the boat, the resulting wave nearly swamped us anyway. As the small craft rocked and tilted, both Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi reached to steady Mai. It was like together the three were a single unit. Not exactly like some Sengoku era ménage. Just that they were so used to working together that they acted as one.

Given that I was not part of their trio, I followed Kyubei’s lead and simply grabbed onto the side of the boat for balance.

Boom!

Another cannonball splashed down approximated in the same spot as the first one.

"Their aim is terrible." I braced myself for another wave.

"They're too far away to hit us." It was Kyubei who took the time to explain. “Motonari risks grounding his vessel if he comes any closer to shore."

"Then why? Oh. They're just not letting us leave." We were effectively at a stalemate. The Oda forces had Motonari's ship blocked, but neither one had managed to defeat the other. Our little boat was Motonari's insurance. Technically we were all still hostages.

Boom!

Once again, I grabbed hold of the side right before the wake from the cannonball tossed our little boat around. I glanced back at the island, wondering if we'd be better off taking our chances in the jungle against Motonari's men. Mitsuhide shook his head before I could even ask. "They know the area better than we do. I like our chances better in open water." He shuttered our lanterns. "In the dark."

Then the lights on Motonari's ship all winked out, and immediately after that the Oda vessel vanished into the darkness as well. We were all involved in a giant game of Marco Polo it seemed, for the remainder of the night. Clearly, no one was going anywhere until dawn.

As soon as we plunged into darkness, I heard Kyubei alter the direction of the sail, and felt the wind as our small boat moved further west. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see him take the sail down completely. Then a muffled plonk as Mitsuhide lowered our anchor into the water.

"First watch is mine." Mitsuhide's voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear him. The implable tone dared anyone to argue, although he apparently anticipated one from his friend, for he added, "Mai, if Hideyoshi doesn’t sleep, you are to smother him."

There were no separate orders to myself, or Kyubei. Kyubei likely already knew what was expected of him, and as for me, Mitsuhide was probably wishing he’d never purchased me.

You’ve been a source of chaos since we met.

I should have just kept searching for Aki on my own. I would be no worse off than I am now. At least I wouldn’t be stuck in a small boat in the middle of the ocean with Mitsuhide and his chivalric object of desire.

And her fiancée.

Who was his best friend.

Taking care not to make any noise, I found my pack, stuck it under my head for a pillow, and shut my eyes. Across the expanse of the water sounds carried incredibly well. From the soft sighs as Mai and Hideyoshi held onto each other in their reunion, Kyubei’s faint whistling snores, and Mitsuhide's nearly imperceptible regulated breathing - yes these were all magnified.

But as sleep continued to escape me, I deepened my focus and listened underneath that. I could hear the creaks and groans of the Mouri and Oda ships further out to sea, the slap of waves against the side of the boats and occasional splashes of nocturnal fish as it tested the surface. The wind whispered to the leaves on the trees ashore, and a couple night birds called to each other.

And through it all, there was Mitsuhide's silent tense presence.

Alert.

Keeping watch.

He was still furious with me. I didn’t have to see his face to know that. No matter that I had had good reason, I had deserted my post, and put those he loved at risk. We had finally gotten to the point where he trusted me, and I had just broken that.

As much as I still hated him…

Do you hate him? Really?

My regret illuminated a path, one that was full of memories: that teasing smirk on his face as he taught me how to pick locks, his glee and satisfaction when I broke him out of Motonari’s cell... and at the core, the way he had washed my hair, held me when I was throwing up from vertigo, and played the flute when he believed me unconscious.

No. I no longer hated him. I wasn't sure exactly what I felt but, it wasn’t hate.

Did I maybe even love him? I had always assumed that if I were to fall in love, there would be a knowing… a surety that I was in love. This? Tentatively, I probled my feelings the way I might have poked at a sore tooth with my tongue… carefully, to avoid hitting a nerve. Thoughts of the warmth and fun it was to debate him, the light in his eyes when he teased, the gentleness that he would probably deny he possessed…

But... what did it matter? Any respect or affection he had had for me before today was gone. The entirety of his feelings were for his friends. He was clearly in love with Mai, possibly even also with Hideyoshi.

Ow.

Yep. That was the sore-tooth nerve that just got poked. The pain I felt - it was worse than what I felt when I thought Aki had abandoned me at that Inn. As bad as when my mother killed herself. I felt cold all over and a tightness in my lungs.

So what would be the point of any further thoughts toward him? Even if he were not currently angry, he had no room in his life for me. I was not the sort to pine for what I could not have, not the sort to abandon my search for the rest of my family for some dusty corner of his heart. No, I would concentrate on the things I could control.

Good idea, Katsuko. Concentrate on getting out of this alive.

And, so, while I was mentally tossing and turning these feelings over in my mind, and physically dealing with the sharp corner of a box digging into my ribs, I became aware of a noise. The sound of metal gears, the groaning of ropes, and… a splash.

The sort of splash made when someone lowers a small boat into the water.

Creak.

The sound of wooden oars.

Splish. Creak.

The sound of a rowboat.

Splish. Creak.

It would be a risk to take a rowboat out in the dark, but if you knew this area well, and I presumed Motonari clearly did, you could navigate toward the island by sound.

Were they looking for us? Or heading to land to pick up reinforcements?

Splish. Creak.

Very carefully, I sat up. Mitsuhide had to have heard it too. I glanced over to where he had been before I closed my eyes, but couldn’t sense his presence. After a moment of listening, I pinpointed his location next to our weapons. What was he planning? He couldn’t shoot blindly at them - as soon as he lit the fuse on his gun they would know where we were.

Then I felt a light tap on my wrist as Mitsuhide handed me my bow and arrows. Did he want me to shoot instead? The rowboat wasn’t yet within range. If it got close enough, I could probably hit something, but at the moment it would be a waste of effort. He leaned close, said into my ear, "Wait."

Then with a soft rustle of clothing, he stripped (I presume). Before I could react further, he turned and lowered himself into the water so softly that the boat barely dipped with his action, then ducked beneath the surface.

What the hell did he think he was doing?

He moved through the ocean silently, there was only the faintest ripple if you knew where to listen for it.

What if there were sharks?

Were there sharks?

The sky was ever so lightly purpling now. I squinted toward the direction of the rowboat, and in the dimness of pre-dawn, I could see the faint smudge skimming along the surface. I couldn’t see Mitsuhide at all. Maybe he was the shark, gliding silently under the water.

If so, Motonari’s men were going to need a bigger boat.

Next to me, Kyubei set up with - was that a crossbow? How had he gotten his hands on a crossbow? It was had to be Chinese made. They used crossbows far more commonly than we did.

Where can I get one?

"Where is Mitsuhide?" That was Hideyoshi, finally awake and talking over our shoulders.

I pointed to the water, then added a shrug to indicate that "in the ocean" was about as specific as I could get. From the approaching smudge of the rowboat, I saw the spark of a match cord being lit. Good, Now I had a target.

I Iet an arrow fly in the direction of the spark, hoping that given the slight breeze, the distance, and the rocking of our own vessel, I could manage to get close to hitting something. A sprong and a whistle indicated Kyubei had the same idea.

From the smudge, a thud and a muffled oath. No idea which of us had hit it. Maybe we both had.

From Hideyoshi a much less muffled oath. "The ocea- son of a bitch!”

He subsided as Mai responded in soothing tones. “Shh. Your injuries.”

A spark flared.

"Down!" Kyubei ordered.

The spark was followed by the crack of the musket. I ducked, though it hadn’t been necessary. Somewhere to the right of us the bullets slapped with water. And, then as the sun fully peered over the horizon, the rowboat containing four of Motonari’s sailors came into focus.

What I could also see was Mitsuhide's arms, as he suddenly grasped the edge of the boat. For one horrible moment, I was terrified that he was going to haul himself on board and take on all of them at once, and I internally echoed Hideyoshi’s cursing. Instead, with one tremendous pull, Mitsuhide yanked the rowboat over, dumping all of them into the water. The resulting splash echoed through the morning, as did, once again, Hideyoshi's swearing.

Quite a vocabulary he has in fact. Amongst the choice-er, as Mr. Spock would say 'colorful metaphors’? I heard the words, “self-sacrificial ass.” Had I a spare moment, I might have enjoyed comparing notes with him.

As it was, I kept my eyes focused on ocean ahead of us. The sailors were splashing frantically around, trying to flip their boat back over. Any of their guns would be inoperable. As for their swords - well, they would have to decide whether or not to save them or risk sinking with them.

Ok. If that had been Mitsuhide's plan, it had worked out. I scanned the water to look for either the dark shape that would indicate where he was, or a quick moment when he surfaced to take a breath. With my attention on the water, and not on the ship further out to sea, I was startled by the:

Boom.

Which was immediately followed by a heavy splash as the cannonball landed in the ocean… right where I expected Mitsuhide to be. Holy-

“Fuck.” (Hideyoshi again).

Mai simply let out a whimper as she pressed her hands in her mouth.

@bestbryn @lorei-writes @lyds323 @selenacosmic @tele86 @akitsuneswife

#10things #10 things i hate about mitsuhide #mitsuhide monday #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen mai #oc katsuko #katsuverse #fanfic #ikemen sengoku #ikesen fanfic

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shititsarat · 2 months ago

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CW: minor Uncharted 4 and Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2/3 spoilers, vague suggestive themes, mention of minor character deaths

— ✧ˎˊ˗

Uncharted 4/Call of Duty Modern Warfare Crossover, where Rafe does not hire Shoreline to assist him but Shadow Company.

He and Graves hate each other passionately but they work together nonetheless since they both want Avery's treasure and Shadow Company needs the reputation boost after what went down with 141 and the Los Vaqueros. In front of Nate and the others, they pretend to get along well to deny them knowledge of their fragile relationship but when the two are alone, their big egos and high-handed attitudes clash.

The tension between them is palpable, and yes, more often than not their arguments about what would be the better approach to handle this whole ordeal end with the two of them making out, or more.

Graves' Shadows know not to disturb the two when they are off to "discuss their next course of actions" because, most of the time, discussing is not what they do. Graves and Rafe end up with a plan nonetheless; sex—especially with each other—usually gets their heads free, after all.

When everything starts going south—Nate and the others kill more and more of Graves' Shadows and the traps laid by Avery fuck them over—Rafe is well aware that his partner is furious, that the treasure turns into a side objective and vengeance becomes the more prevalent desire.

Rafe turns to the Shadows in an attempt to buy them, to get them on his side and secure their allegiance in case Graves ends up wanting to abandon him, but Rafe swiftly finds out that the Shadows' loyalty to their Commander is unbreakable and cannot be bought. They stand on Graves' side to the bitter end, and they as well are furious so many of their comrades died at the hands of the Drake brothers and their friends.

Rafe, of course, has nothing against their goal in general; he too is annoyed by this small group of treasure hunters that has made this whole ordeal so much harder than it could have been. But Graves, he does not appreciate Rafe trying to buy out his Shadows; he is tired of the other's attitude, tired of his pretty face and he would rather get rid of Rafe on the spot instead of waiting to eventually get backstabbed by him.

"I heard you showed interest in my capable soldiers and their services," Graves speaks to Rafe, two of his Shadows standing a few feet behind him, weapons in hand—of course, they had told their boss what Rafe was up to.

"It's not what it looks like," Rafe starts but gets swiftly interrupted by the Commander, "Oh really? It's not? Because, to me, it seems like you planned to use my Shadows against me."

"Phillip, listen, that's not-" Rafe begins but gets cut off again, "No, you listen to me. I know exactly what betrayal looks like, I'm quite familiar with it actually."

Graves steps towards Rafe, placing a hand on his shoulder—not in a gentle but firm manner instead—pressing down on it, forcing Rafe to fall onto his knees right before him.

"Phillip-"

"It's Commander Graves for you," Rafe gets cut off once more and as he feels Graves' fingers on his chin, pushing it up and forcing him to look at the man towering above him, Rafe looks at him with a mixture of emotions—hatred, disdain, hopelessness, fear. Rafe is well aware he is on his own now; he fucked up and there is probably no way of fixing the mess he got himself into. He managed to set off the one man he should not have angered to such a degree, because this goes far over their previous disagreements; this is personal; Rafe tried to drive a wedge between Graves and his Shadows.

Rafe should have seen it coming but had failed to. He had simply been blinded by the money, his own money that he thought could buy anything he wants. But not these men, not Graves' Shadows.

And as Rafe looks up into the Commander's face—his eyes that stare back at the kneeling man with disappointment and hatred so clearly visible in them—Rafe is starting to realize that he should have hired Shoreline instead of Graves and his Shadow Company...

#call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #uncharted #uncharted 4 #crossover au #phillip graves #rafe adler #mini fic #rat writes #ficlet #my fic #shadow company

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niphredil-14 · 2 years ago

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Requests

Hi! (Don’t be surprised if you see this request on other blogs, I love seeing people give their own stories and interpretations of requests)

I was hoping to make a request for some angst stuff, mainly headcannons or even stories for each of the batboys!

It’s a little dark tho. But like I said I love everyone’s interpretations of requests!

Like we can all agree they all have dual personalities. Dick and Nightwing are two different people, just like all the boys and their bat personas.

So what happens when y/n gets in a really heated argument or fight with the batses, and then the boys have to clean up the batses mess?

I for sure can see some fear and flinch cause I mean the batses are some scary powerful dudes. So how could the boys fix (or attempt to fix and fail) the damage?

— angst lover 🖤

Dick: Nightwing was a useful asset, but sometimes Dick really hated him. Clambering back home through the window, already in a shit mood, only set off more by their concern for him, led to a fight, a bad one. Nightwing hadn’t actually hit them, but he got damn close, and when he noticed those impulses, he left without a word, only worsening their mood considerably. When Dick woke up, it was in a hotel with a bottle of liqour clutched in his hand, hanging off the side of te bed. He had a splitting headache, and was regretting many of his decisions the night before. It was upon this stroll down embarressing and not-so-great memory lane that he remembered the fight, and curled in on himself. He hated waking up without them cuddled up to him. With a sigh he rolled onto his back, bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking one of the last few swigs as he formulated an apology plan. It wasn’t very creative, but it was dramatic, which fit enough of his criteria. So there he stood, just outside the door to their shared apartment, feeling like, even though he had only spent one night somewhere else, it wasn’t a place he was welcome. Nonetheless, he had been through scarier situations than that, and so he steeled his nerves and knocked a few times. He heard shuffling around on the other side for a short amount of time. When the door swung open, it was clear that they had been crying, and had quickly tried to make themselves presentable.

“DIck? I thought you left.” He didn’t say anything, just stood there looking guiltily at them for a minute before sidestepping and gesturing to the entire cart of roses and other flowers that he had bought.

“I’m sorry. I was an asshole.”

“You were. I’d even go so far as to say you were acting like a real dick.” They said sternly, only for a teasing smile to form on their face after a moment of seeing how unimpressed he was with their pun.

“I’m in for lots of jokes about my name, aren’t I?” He said, somewhat lightheartedly.

“If you want forgiveness.” They teased.

Jason:

He was sure that the neighbors could hear your mixed screams and shouts, but he had too much pride to just turn around and apologize. He was too far into it at that point, or at least the Red Hood thought so. That part of his brain shut off immediately when he saw them flinch, however. The vigilante almost evaporating as Jason took over, dropping to the floor before them and grasping the back of their calves as he pushed his face into the floor to muffle his forming sobs.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I would never hurt you, I'm so so sorry, fuck." There were few sights in the world like having a 6'4 beast of a man clinging to you and begging at your feet, but it was not nearly as satisfying as one would imagine. The man they love looking so scared and broken before them was like taking a wedge and sledgehammer to the cracks already forming in their heart. Slowly crouching in front of him, they reached out to rub a soothing hand on his back.

"Hey, it's okay, Jay, I know you won't, I know that." He looked up at them, large hands, seeming so small in their shakiness, grabbing gently at their waist.

"I love you, I can't hurt you, Baby, I can't."

"You won't. We both know that."

"I won't, but we don't know that about him. I hate him, Baby, I fuckin' hate him, I just want us to have a normal, peaceful life, but no, he has to ruin that."

"Nothing's ruined, Hon, we can still have that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Tim: The fight was bad, and he regretted it. He had said lots of things, none of which he had meant, though it didn’t matter what he had meant, the only thing that mattered were the tears that had come from his knife-like words. It was at that point that he had stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Days had passed without either of them speaking to each other, it was torture for him. Guilt ate him alive, and finally, he caved. He went in through the window, with their favorite movie series and takeout in hand, setting everything up before they got home. Pillows and blankets everywhere, candles lit, and the first movie already on the selection screen. His anxiety was at an all time when the door began to creak open. They had no obligation to forgive him, and frankly, he wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t. They stopped dead in their tracks looking at him. He stood in front of the couch, clearly having been sitting just a moment before, and didn’t move or relax until he began to speak.

“Babe, I-” He started, then paused, gulping and taking a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of what I said, and you deserve so much better than to be treated like that.” The sinking feeling in his heart lessened a bit when they began to walk towards him, a small, barely-there smile on their face. “If you let me stay, I promise that I’ll try to be better for you. But if you want me to leave, I will.” It was clear to him that he was more than welcome when their lips met his.

I genuinely had no idea to write for Damian I’m sorry this brittle bitch wouldn’t apologize for shit.

Taglist: @mxsmwndr

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