#crystal display cabinet

[kaisaccofilm]

Transitional Home Bar - Home Bar Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional single-wall home bar remodel with glass-front cabinets, white cabinets, laminate countertops, white backsplash, and white countertops. The space has a gray floor and carpeting on the walls.

[thereisanother]

Home Bar in Perth

[rokberglez]

Glass Front - Closet An illustration of a large transitional women's dressing room with a medium tone wood floor and a brown floor, as well as white cabinets with glass doors.

[wucrnos]

Walk-In - Closet Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary gender-neutral walk-in closet remodel with flat-panel cabinets and gray cabinets

[ivedone-itagain]

Closet Recessed Panel Inspiration for a large coastal women's medium tone wood floor and brown floor dressing room remodel with recessed-panel cabinets and white cabinets

[demonwolfgoodies]

Enclosed - Transitional Living Room Example of a large transitional enclosed medium tone wood floor and brown floor living room library design with gray walls, no fireplace and no tv

[recycleanimals]

Kitchen Dining Dining Room Example of a large classic medium tone wood floor and brown floor kitchen/dining room combo design with blue walls

[kjmalfoy]

Vanilla Bourbon• 18+ Content

Warnings- Alcohol Use, Foreplay, Nipple-Play, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Unprotected/Rough Vaginal Sex, Breeding Kink, Praising, Choking, Authority Kink, Slight Cock-Warming, Dom/Sun Dynamic, Dumbification Kink, Very Slight Use of CNC, Pet Names (Babydoll, Doll, Dollface)

Summary- Two weeks after the office incident, James becomes very fond of you— making you his new personal assistant. After a long overdue meeting, James finally lets his desire win him over; nearly taking you on the countertops.

Pairings- MobBoss!Bucky x Assistant!Reader

Word Count- Roughly 4K

Authors Note- I SINCERELY apologize for the wait.. I must admit, I have lost my touch when it comes to writing smut :(( *insert tiny violin sounds*

My Masterlist <3

Part One- Filthy Criminal <3

Walking back into the estate you felt a rush of awkwardness consume your body, after just spending the last hour sandwiched between two buff men as James discussed business plans. The entire meeting, James would brush his foot along your legs; tossing you the occasionally flirtatious smirk.

Two weeks after the office incident, your body can still feel the sexual tension whenever James’ presence is in the room. Things have changed drastically since then, neither of you can go a day without touching each other. Whether it’s fucking you in his office, the empty parking garage after long meetings, or even the playful teasing during meetings.

James longed for you, more than he’d like to admit.

But for once, James had something slightly more sensual in mind. Opening the door for you, his eyes danced over your curves– those crystal blue eyes admiring the delicacy of your beauty, taking in every inch of your figure. “Hey, babydoll. Join me for a drink?” He offered, quickly catching your attention.

Looking over at James, you tilted your head slightly– giving him a questioning look. “Don’t you have paperwork to finish?” You held up the thick manila folder in your hand, waving it gently.

James chuckled, finding amusement in the serious expression plastered across your face. “Aw, come on. Boss’ orders, Doll.” He teased you, draping an arm around your shoulder as he guided you towards the bar.

You huffed in annoyance, glancing up at James. “Fine. One drink.” You spoke sternly.

Humming in victory, James nudged the door open with his foot; tangling his fingers around yours as the automatic lights flashed. Leading you towards the open bar, James stepped around the counter– looking down at you with a mischievous grin.

Without any warning, James latches his hands around your waist– hoisting your body onto the marble countertops. Hands still locked on the mid of your waist, he looked down at you; hungrily licking his lips. “My, my. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” James taunted you, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.

Giggling girlishly, you swatted at James’ hands; prying yourself from his grip. “So, what about that drink you kindly offered?” You reminded, propping your arms behind your back– giving James a clear viewing.

James scoffed, rolling his tongue over the sharpness of his teeth. He didn’t move, keeping his body stiff and tense as he stared down at you; lust and desire glimmering through his thick eyelashes, his cheeky smile making you feel suffocated.

“Sure, Doll. What’s your drink?” He asked, turning his back and glancing at the dozens of bottles that populated the shelves.

You hummed silently, peering over the half-empty bottles James had on display. “Vanilla Bourbon, please.” You replied.

Nodding his head, James bent at his knees; reaching into one of the cabinets, pulling out the most expensive bottle he owned. Along with the bottle, he grabbed two empty glasses– balancing them between his fingers.

Watching James unscrew the bottle cap, he lifts the bottle to his lips– locking eyes with you as he poured a heavy sip of bourbon into his mouth, tiny droplets of alcohol trickling down the corners of his mouth. Using his thumbs, James wipes away the excess liquids– smudging them against your plush lips.

“Taste good?” He asked, smirking playfully as he watched your tongue roll across your lips.

You made a cringed face from the strength of the alcohol, the roof of your mouth burning from the strong flavoring. “Taste expensive.” You managed to mutter out as you wiped your lips clean.

James nodded at your response, slowly pouring the bourbon into the empty glasses– the chugging noise filling the atmosphere as the brown liquids clouded the clear cups. Grabbing both drinks, James nestled himself between your thighs and passed you the cup.

“Cheers to my best and prettiest assistant.” He toasted proudly, holding up the alcoholic drink– signaling for you to click glasses.

Chuckling at James’ flirtatious jokes, you reached for your glass– holding it up with pride. Clicking the edge of the glass against his, “Cheers to my favorite and most attractive boss.” You chimed playfully as you downed the glass of bourbon, taking it straight like a shot.

Gulping down his drink, James studies you– a dark, mysterious glimmer in the irises of his pupils. He sets the empty cup aside and places his palm around the stretch of your thigh. “You have a little something,” James mumbled, gently cupping your chin in his hand– using his thumbs to wipe the corner of your mouth, slowly tugging at your bottom lip.

A shocked expression washed over your face, all the blood and heat in your body was rushing to your face– you could feel your ears tingle as James’ eyes were fixated on your lips, just barely tapping his thumb against your pout. “Open up, Dollface.” He demanded with a sultry tone of voice, the name rolling off his tongue like velvet.

You gulped down, eyes widening slightly as you stared blankly at James. “Sorry, what?” You muttered out.

A lustful smirk cascades across his face, his eyes nearly sparking in joy at the innocence possessing your body. “Messy girls have to clean their messes, Doll.” He said, rubbing his thumb along your lips.

Shivering slightly, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. James hummed in satisfaction, eagerly pressing the pads of his thumbs against your warm tongue. Sealing your lips around his thumb, you hallowed out your cheeks– swirling your tongue around the thickness of his finger, enjoying the sensual taste of alcohol burning your taste buds.

James rolled his tongue over his teeth, blowing raspberries as he watched you suck on his thumb. Within seconds, James had both hands planted around your waist– hastily pulling you from the counter, and pinning you against the countertops.

Hunger sparkled in his eyes, a faint blush slightly smeared across his chiseled face. His face inched closer to your lips, “Go ahead, tell me what you want.” James whispered, almost acting as a demand.

“Kiss me.” You whispered, returning the same suggestive look with an alluring smirk on your rosy cheeks.

Releasing his grip around the stretch of your waist, James’ hands trickled up your figure; fingertips trailing along the fabric of your attire before stopping at the curve of your neck. “Aw, don't tell me that my pretty little doll forgot about her manners?” James taunted, as his calloused fingertips found themselves buried in your skin.

Whining softly, you looked up at James with a heavy pout on your lips; sweet puppy-dog eyes glossing over your face. “Please. Please, kiss me.” You pleaded with him, tilting your head in hopes of feeling your lips brush against his.

Hearing your desperate plea made James’ demeanor snap instantly, dominance flushed over his body; his grip around your throat only tightening as his lips collided with yours. The taste of his saliva was almost intoxicating, the leftover bourbon still smothered across his wet lips. Feeling your knees buckle, your hands eagerly scrambled across his chest; gripping the thin fabric of his shirt for stability.

Constricting his grasp around your throat, your movements were now stiffened– forcing your body to move along with his guidance. James kissed you slowly, almost tormenting you with the slowness of his movements, and the scarce touch of his hands. His fingers nimbly moved along your waist, curving as he reached the cup of your ass. “Fuck, Babydoll. You taste delicious.” He mumbled into the sloppy kiss.

Pushing your body into his chest, you could feel your body weaken as his hands roughly worked the flesh of your rear– skin nearly burning from the sensation of his fingertips gripping your asscheek. Your desperation was evident from the yearning claw marks you left scattered along his abdomen– your freshly done fingernails digging into his toned skin.

Reluctantly, James pulled away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connected to your lips. He wiped his thumb across your swollen lips, wiping away the drool that glossed over your pout. Without a signal, James roughly latched his fingers onto your cheeks– forcing you to pucker up while he stared down at you.

His unrelenting eyes bore into your soul, making your body drown with embarrassment. Squirming away from his gaze, you stared at the ground; your body oozing with submission and brattiness. James clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ah, ah. Don’t look away from me. I want those pretty little eyes on me.” He said, giving a slight bob of the head.

A soft whimper slipped past your sweet lips, your eyes finally traveling to make contact with James. “Yes, sir.” You obeyed, those tender eyes glimmering in innocence as he smiled at you.

Tilting his head, he studied your expression– taking in the clear submission in your voice. “Countertop or bedroom, Doll?” He asked, speaking clearly as he watched your eyes widen, and lips start to quiver.

James’ question barely had the time to be processed in your mind, all you could do was blurt out the word “Bedroom.”

Nodding his head, James lifted you into his arms; letting you wrap your legs around his waist, being able to feel your thighs clench around him as he tucked his hands beneath your asscheeks. “Whatever you want, Dollface.” He spoke gently, walking away from the bar.

Your arms draped around his neck, nuzzling your face beneath his jawline; playfully kissing the sharp skin. “Mm, hurry up. I want to touch you already.” You mumbled, making the hairs on his neck standpoint.

Kicking the bedroom door open with his foot, James laughs at your eagerness. “So impatient, Doll. Only patient babydolls get rewards.” He cooed, placing you down on the mattress. James stood in front of you, those crystal blue eyes glimmering with desire.

He stared at you with devilish intent as those calloused hands moved up his chest. His thick fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, slowly revealing his abs. You followed after James, slowly pulling down the straps of your dress; revealing the apex of your cleavage. Your eyes never left his, watching intently as he pulled his shirt off his body— thirsting at the sight of his flexed abs.

James yanked the shirt from his arms, tossing it onto the ground. He pushed your shoulders back, forcing you to lay flat against his duvet. James crawled over the top of you, the thickness of his muscular thighs resting beside your own.

Grabbing a handful of your dress, James pulled it apart; ripping it directly down the middle. Your cheeks flushed as your body was now exposed to his eyes, nothing but your leopard-print panties covering your sex.

His tongue rolled over his lush lips, nose flaring sharply at the sight of your bare breast. “Such a beautiful thing, Babydoll.” James complimented sweetly, his hands kneading at your soft breast.

A sweet, delicate moan slipped through your lips; eyes nearly rolling back at James’ electrifying touch. Your chest heaved, breathing becoming shallow as his lips wrapped around your hardened nipple.

One hand threads at your waist, his thumb caressing the middle of your skin; feeling the goosebumps that tainted your body. James’ tongue swirled around your sensitive bud, making your chest buck further into his grip.

Latching your fingers onto his hair, gently tugging at the strands as James sucked on your supple skin, leaving fresh red marks along your sensitive breast. His lips left your nipple, letting his fingers pinch the abused bud— making your body squirm in pleasurable pain.

James looked up at you, smiling in delight as he watched your body react to his touch. “Does it feel good, Doll?” He taunted, now using both hands to abuse your nipples.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, frantically nodding as broken whimpers and whines continued to leave your mouth. “Ye-Yes!” You managed to choke out in between your gasps.

James hummed in response, burying his face in the crook of your neck; the alcohol-ridden breath trickling down your body. His lips brushed against your skin, the warmth of his mouth engulfing your body in flames.

Mouth wandering your neck, leaving playful nibbles and kisses along your sweet, sticky skin; just barely bruising the tender area. James steadily left a string of kisses down your neck, finally making contact with your collarbone; those playful nibbles became more aggressive. Your knuckles tightened around his hair, roughly pulling his face deeper into your body— desperately trying to feel more.

Eyes barely opened, you looked down at James; guiding him further down your body. James looked up at you with a taunting glimmer in his eyes, snickering at your desperation. “C’mon Babydoll, you know better. If you want something, I need you to use that pretty mouth of yours.” He instructed.

Licking your dried-out lips, you inhaled sharply; attempting to focus on his words. “Please, James. I need more, I want more.” You pleaded with him, feeling the heat steadily build up between your legs.

Earning a playful chuckle from James, he leaves a sloppy trail of kisses down to your belly button; his warm salvia making your skin shine under the dim lights. He hooked his thick fingers around the bed of your panties, glancing up at you with lustful eyes as he slowly tugged down the protective fabric.

You lifted your hips, helping James pull the printed fabric down your legs– watching him toss them aside. His hands immediately latched onto your thighs, spreading them apart– leaving your drenched pussy on full display. Laying flat on his stomach, James brought his face closer to your cunt– teasingly licking a wet stride against your folds.

Squirming in pleasure, your eyes glossed over as you inhaled deeply. James chuckled against your cunt, pushing your thighs against your chest; leaving you fully spread for his tongue. Slowly, his lips found themselves sucking on your clit; swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

He earned a sweet moan from you, the pleasure from his mouth making you squirt against his face– eagerly tugging at his hair, pulling him closer for more. “Oh, fuck. Mm, feels so good.” You moaned lazily between your heavy pleads and whimpers.

His eyes hooded, just barely looking up at you– a smug expression plastered across his wet face. “There ya go, Babydoll.” He mumbled against your sex. James focused on your clit, running his thick fingers along your sticky folds; smearing in your juices before pumping the pads of his fingers into your needy hole.

Another loud moan escapes your lips as you feel yourself being stretched out by his long; thick fingers. James mumbled in satisfaction, his raspy mumble sending vibrations throughout the entirety of your body. The sound of your juices filled the room, nearly overpowering your delicate moans as he finger-fucked you faster.

His tongue lapped at your clit, tracing circles around the overly sensitive bud; the feeling of his teeth grazing against the small bud made the muscles in your abdomen curl. Lazily, your mouth hung ajar; mind turning fuzzy from the overlapping pleasure as James toyed with your body.

Feeling the heavy knot in your core, the muscles in your legs started to spasm; hinting at your expected release. “Mm, fuck. Gonna cum!” You whined desperately, squeezing your thighs around his face; smothering him as he continued to work on your sex.

James hummed in disapproval, slyly using his arm to hook it around your thighs– prying your legs up again. “Keep 'em open, Doll.” He spoke in a low grumble, looking up at you with dangerous eyes.

Arching your back, that tight knot in your abdomen finally snapped– causing your entire body to tremble in ecstasy. Your toes curled up into the silk sheets, a thick orgasm washing over your body; spurs of incoherent moans loudly slipping from your tongue. James watched with a cocky grin, eyes focused on the way your hips bucked towards his face; only adding to the mess coating his scruffy beard.

As your body eased up, James slowly pulled his fingers from your spongy cunt– causing you to twitch from the lack of friction. He adjusted his body, leaning on his knees; keeping his eyes glued on your body. With a swift movement, he wiped his cum-coated fingers along your lips; “Be a doll, and clean your mess.” He spoke with a taunting tone; smirking smugly as you pried open your dried-out lips.

Wrapping your lips around his fingers, the taste of sweet release invaded your tongue; making you moan in response. Your lips tightened around his fingers, swirling your tongue over the pads of his fingertips; sucking off any flavor left of yourself. “There ya go, Babydoll.” James praised with a gravel tone.

James retracted his fingers from your mouth, smiling in satisfaction as they glistened with your saliva. He pulled himself to the edge of the bed, watching over you with a careful eye. His sticky fingers played with the diamond-studded belt buckle, “Would you like to go further?” He asked before taking off his belt.

Eagerly, you nodded your head; reaching for the loops of his jeans and pulling him closer. “Yes. Please, James.” You spoke sweetly, looking up at him with seductive eyes– not wanting to waste a single second.

Your eager response made him chuckle lowly, tossing his belt on the ground; tugging down his jeans and boxers. His hard cock sprung out of his underwear, the clear pre-cum dripping off the head of his cock. Using the pads of his fingertips, he smeared the pre-cum along his cock; gripping his shaft and palming himself. “Such an eager girl.” James licked his lips.

Your face flushes nervously as James climbs back into bed; he gives your thighs a gentle smack, signaling for you to spread them open again. He positions himself between you, grasping hold of your thigh and pressing it against your chest. Reaching for his cock, he slides it along your folds; smearing your juices on his sex before plunging it inside you.

The feeling of his cock stretching you out sends you into a state of euphoria; weak moans of pleasure dripping off your sinful tongue. Your fingernails entangle themselves with the sheets, gripping tightly as your walls clenched around him; trying to adjust to his girthy size. “Oh fuck, James.” You whined.

James groans in response, the feeling of your tight; warm walls wrapping around him made his entire world spin; drunk from the feeling of your soaping cunt. His fingers dig into the plush skin of your thigh, keeping your spread as he slowly starts thrusting; making sure to take his time with you, soaking up the sensation and memory of drilling into your pretty hole.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip, nostrils flaring with sexual hunger. James picked up the pace of his thrust, hips slamming roughly against the skin of your thighs; a burning sensation invading you with ease, bruises forming on the depths of your skin. His gravelly groans filled the room, small whispers of broken praises just barely skipping through his teeth. “Oh, babydoll. You take it so good.” He said, just barely above a whisper.

Burying your head into the pillows, you screwed your eyes shut; trying your best to contain the overwhelming pleasure he was sending throughout your overused body. You were drowning in the sensation of his touch; completely engrossed and intoxicated with James. “P..Please, I need more.” You begged him, your voice dry and hoarse, but still enough to send him over the edge.

With a swift movement, James had both your legs on his shoulders, lifting your body slightly so he had access to all the right places. His cock bottomed out inside you, lazily thrusting along your sweet spot. Your body reacted like wildfire; thighs trembling against James’ chest, fingertips frantically searching for something to grip onto, and incoherent moans dripping off your lips.

James leaned over, your knees coming into contact with your chest; nearly restricting your breathing from the tight confinement of the position. His wet sloppy lips made contact with your cheek, placing soft kisses and nibbles all over your heated skin; feeling your scorching temperature against his pink lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.” His breath trickled down your cheek; still managing to give you goosebumps.

His praise lights electricity through your entire body; a chain reaction spreading throughout every limb, the joints in your ankles tightening as your toes curl. With scrambled movements, your hands latched onto his shoulders, digging your acrylic nails into his pale skin. “Fuck, s’ too much!” You brokenly whimpered, looking up at James with flared eyes.

He chuckled sinfully, his hand pushing itself between your thighs, searching for that sensitive bud. “Yeah? C’mon, Doll. I know you can take it.” James taunted you, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit; making a circular motion against your bud.

The thin acrylics of your nails pulled at James’ skin, deep and irritated scratch marks inflamed into his skin. You felt it; hell, you felt everything– too much of it. Your body was overstimulated, James’ pleasing movements made your mind just numb; everything was hazed– truly being fucked stupid as his cock drilled into your throbbing pussy.

As the pleasure consumes your being, causing your body to tighten once more; a thick orgasm rapidly builds in the pit of your abdomen. Arching your back, you pushed yourself against James; eyes flaring wildly as he continued to mercilessly toy with your sensitive clit. “God, fuck. I-I can't take it anymore.” You pleaded with a voice coated with desperation.

The pathetic pleas only made James pound into you harder, his thumb working faster against your clit; forcing you to release once more. “Aw, c’mon. Be a doll, cum for me one more time.” He grunted out, a sweet; yet devilish smirk dripping from his cheeks. “You can do it for me, Babydoll.” His expression was nothing but taunting and condescending.

James’ praise ignited your body, an overwhelming sense of fulfillment trickling through you; causing the dense knot in your abdomen to explode. His words had you completely enchanted; acting as a command as the intense orgasm wiped through you once more. With rolled-back eyes, you felt yourself shaking; desperately shaking as James continued to fuck you through the tormenting orgasm.

With a low, gravelly groan James watched in awe; admiring the post-orgasmic glow decorating your skin. “That’s my good doll. Just like that, Babydoll.” He cooed, guiding you through the thick pleasure he was sending through you. His harsh movements slowed down, pushing deep; sensual thrust into your weeping sex.

As your body calmed down, you laid limply against the mattress; fingernails barely having the strength to grip onto James any longer. Your throat was dried out and scratchy, overused from the high-pitched moans that slipped past the tip of your tongue. With lidded eyes, you stared up at James; his thick brown hair sticking the sweat beads on his forehead; his nostrils flaring as he chased his own satisfaction.

A heavy hand cupped your face, feeling the heat of your cheeks rush through his palm; “You’re doing so good for me, Doll.” He grunted out, the protective pad of his thumb playfully tugging at your swollen lips.

As you whined against his touch, James felt his own body go limp; a euphoric tremble at his knees. He felt his thigh tighten with cramps, his abs flexing at his long-awaited release slowly built up; causing the entirety of his body to tense with strained muscles. “Fuck, [Y/n]. You feel so fucking good.” He praised, those white teeth digging into the bottom of his lip.

James used the last bit of his strength, lazily bottoming out inside you; throwing his head back as your warm walls clenched around him. His cock twitched, balls pulsating as the warmth of your sex surrounded him; milking him for every drop. His warm; thick cum piled inside of you; stuffing completely with his seed. “God, Baby. Fuck, you’re amazing.” He groaned heavily, those icy eyes rolling back as you cock-warmed him.

The fuzzy feeling of his cock twitching made your head spin with sexual hunger, the sticky cum along the walls of your sex caused your pussy to throb needily. James reluctantly pulled his cock from your cunt, watching proudly as his white release dripped from your swollen lips.

Moaning weakly, his calloused fingers scooped up his cum, eagerly pumping it back inside your sticky hole. “Such a pretty little cumdoll.” He cocked an eyebrow, glaring at you with a condescending smirk.

thank you all for the patient wait! bucky barnes fics are back, and i hope you all missed them! please check out part one, and give my masterlist a look through! (all linked at the top of the post <3)

as always, reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated. BUT, please do not post or copy my work on any other social platform.

at this point, my request are currently closed as i’m working on a list of other fics for multiple different character.

[defectivevillain]

swimming with sharks

pairing: Sebastian Solace/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

summary: Unperturbed, Sebastian continues speaking. “I’d try to keep a low profile, if I were you,” he hums, still studying you with faux disinterest. It’s clear he doesn’t care to help you figure out this mess.

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns/physical descriptors are used.

word count: 3k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence and death, spoilers (concerning Sebastian's document, but nothing about the end of the game)

Expect canon divergence and non-compliance. You may have to suspend your disbelief a little bit. The pacing is also a bit faster than I'd like, but I didn't want this to rot in my drafts, so...

The title is from Sharks by Imagine Dragons because it fits Sebastian too damn well.

You’re not a good person. You know this—have been forced to accept it during your confinement. The crimes you committed are enough to justify your permanent captivity hidden away in an Urbanshade facility. 

But you didn’t realize just how expendable you are… until you’re forced into a dangerous expedition through the Hadal Blacksite. You’re only given two directives: secure the crystal and obtain any loose assets along the way. What this crystal is and why Urbanshade needs it are both details you’re not privy to. 

You try your best to make your way through the infinite winding labyrinth you find yourself in, but it’s only a matter of time before you’re meeting your untimely death. After all, you aren’t adequately briefed on any of the creatures that roam the halls. So when the overhead lights flicker and an angler comes barreling down the hall moments later, you can’t find a hiding place and you’re quickly incapacitated.

You don’t expect to open your eyes again and, at first, the room you find yourself in is dark enough for you to think they’re still closed. But then two aquamarine orbs pierce through the darkness. You squint and try to make sense of what you’re seeing. There’s a whisper of a laugh and suddenly, a grey hand is pushing a document across the surface in front of you. You stare down at it, looking at the displayed information regarding anglers. 

“Where am I?” You choke out, after numbly digesting the bits of information you just read. There’s no response from the being sharing this space with you. “Who are you?”

There’s a whisper of a laugh—a malicious cackle that doesn’t fail to send a shiver down your spine. Those bright blue eyes burn into your skin, and the light dangling above you swings in warning. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” It’s a decidedly masculine voice, laced with amusement at your expense. “Now, run along.”

You don’t have the time to say anything more, and when you blink, the unrelenting darkness morphs to reveal the submarine you first entered the Blacksite in. There’s no sign of the mysterious being from before.

You’re sent to stumble your way through the Blacksite once more, fighting to survive to aid an organization that has only shown you cruelty. Each time, you meet a painful demise and find yourself in that dark room with this creature that seems to enjoy your suffering. As you explore more, you learn more about the fauna that call the Blacksite home—and the elusive organization that has trapped you in this eternal cycle of labor. 

You haven’t officially met the creature yet. He alluded to the idea that you’ll interact soon, which makes you think that you have to get through a certain number of halls in the Blacksite. 

And finally, finally, you reach hall 51 on a run. There’s a single light casting light on a cabinet across the way. A vent on the nearby wall suddenly pops open and you hear a familiar voice beckoning you closer. You don’t hesitate to take the proffered path, crawling through the vent until you emerge to find yourself in a small room. There’s an assortment of flashlights, batteries, lanterns, and everything else you could need. 

And there’s an enormous creature, staring down at you with recognizable blue eyes. This must be the one who trades research with you. He has black short hair and a torso with arms, but that’s where the human resemblance ends. His arms are a pale grey and his lower half is a ginormous shark tail. He must be almost twice your height. 

“It’s rude to stare,” the creature chastises you. You attempt to drag your eyes away from his menacing tail. “Sebastian.” He explains, after seeing your bewildered face. “Welcome to my humble abode… friend.” It’s abundantly clear the nickname is spoken in jest. You are far from friends. 

You stare at him in disbelief, struck silent as he explains how he’ll get you resources in exchange for assets and research. As your eyes wander the room, your attention is captured by a long file emblazoned with a “CLASSIFIED” label in bold red lettering. 

“What’s that?” You can’t help but ask, curiosity piqued. 

“My file,” he responds dryly, as if this turn in conversation bores him. Either that… or he’s trying to throw you off the scent—convince you that it’s nothing special. But you’re not persuaded. You want to learn more about Sebastian. Is he friend or foe, ally or enemy? Maybe this file will have something on him—or, hell, something on Urbanshade. 

“How much is it?” You remember to ask. 

“A thousand,” Sebastian answers, looking at you skeptically. “I don’t do freebies, unfortunately.”

Annoyed at the unspoken insult, you place the required money on the table with a bit more force than necessary. He whistles, evidently impressed, and makes a lazy gesture towards the file. “It’s all yours. Just don’t be surprised when you learn you wasted your money.” He enunciates exaggeratedly.

Despite your heart thundering away in your chest, you can’t satiate your curiosity—and you decide to read through the file now. When you reach the end, you can’t help but stare up at him in disbelief. It’s impossible to read the expression on his face—as if you’re staring at a brick wall of emotionlessness. 

“Fascinating stuff, no?” The hybrid remarks sardonically. There’s a nearly imperceptible hint of an emotion in his voice, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. 

“You’re Z-13.” You realize aloud, a shiver rolling down your spine as you remember the broadcasts detailing the threat. 

“The one and only,” Sebastian grins, bowing theatrically. 

“There’s a kill order,” you recall, something uncomfortable settling in the pit of your stomach. “All operatives are supposed to ‘unload their mags until their fingers bleed’ if they see you.”

He smirks, his light flickering ominously. “Oh, you can certainly try. But we both know you won’t do it.” He is nothing but confident. “I’m the only reason you’ve lasted this long.”

“Maybe.” You acquiesce, the effort almost painful. It’s somewhat true: the research he provides you is rather helpful. Sebastian’s eyes snap towards you in clear surprise, before a twisted smile rises on his face. 

“You’re a strange one,” he muses, speaking detachedly as if you’re not even there. Then he blinks and looks at you with scrutiny. You resist the urge to wilt under his gaze and instead study the supplies he’s offering. If Sebastian is bothered by your obvious attempt at a subject change, he doesn’t show it. 

Twenty minutes later, you’re outfitted with all the gear you need. You cast one last glance at Sebastian before crawling back through the vent. “You’re forgetting something.” He says, stopping you in your tracks. You frown and go back to the room, before realizing that you didn’t take the keycard. Embarrassed, you grab it and leave again—pointedly ignoring his laughter as you go. 

For a while, these are the only moments when you’ll see Sebastian—other than when you die. He isn’t afraid to be biting and rude, admonishing you for your stupidity when you meet increasingly foolish ends. But it’s still a breath of fresh air to have some conversation—even when the other person is kind of an asshole. 

Your voyages through the Blacksite are getting tiring—and so is the unending cycle between life and death. You are never given even a second to breathe. Exhaustion is starting to become an accessory to your frequent runs. And that doesn’t go unnoticed by a certain hybrid. 

“You look terrible,” Sebastian remarks clinically after your rather embarrassing demise slipping through a pit in the floor. You feel weirdly self-conscious for a second, before you remind yourself that you shouldn’t care how he sees you. “It may be in your best interest to get some rest.” He tucks his hair behind his ear and you catch a quick glimpse of his third eye. 

“My best interest?” You can’t help but laugh wryly. “Since when do you care about anyone but yourself?” 

“Ah, you know me so well,” Sebastian says, gesturing lazily. “It’s true. I certainly don’t do friends… But I’m betting on your survival,” he remarks. “And if you die, you’ll owe me.” He looks at you pointedly. 

“You bet on me?” You ask disbelievingly. The next words are tumbling from your lips before you can stop them. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

There’s a harsh silence, before it’s broken by a startled laugh. “Fair enough,” Sebastian acquiesces with amusement. He taps his fingers against the table in restlessness. “It’s just so endlessly boring—waiting around for your demise.” 

“I’m so sorry my mortality is such an inconvenience to you,” you huff.  

“You should be,” Sebastian responds easily. You roll your eyes and he takes the file back, sending you an apathetic wave as you’re tugged from the room and back into the submarine’s metal walls. 

At some point, you realize you’ve started to feel strange. You get winded and out of breath rather easily; you’ve been fighting against a growing headache since your first few runs through the Blacksite; and there’s a strange puncture point on your arm. It must be from an angler, but you can’t quite remember when it got there. Every exploration is starting to blur together. There’s no way to tell the time when you’re traversing through the Blacksite, and Urbanshade doesn’t seem to care how disoriented you may be. All you know is that this puncture point on your arm isn’t healing, despite your other injuries healing immediately after your death. 

That pain certainly isn’t clearing your head or sharpening your senses. When you’re deposited from the Urbanshade submarine, you hardly make it to the thirtieth room before dying. You can’t bring yourself to feel anything but relieved. While you normally aren’t so macabre, you know you desperately need a break—even just a moment’s respite from the buzzing noise threatening to bury itself into your skin. Your adrenaline promptly crashes the moment you’re transported back to that god awful dark room once more, your vision blurring and sharpening with dizzying speed. Your heart is racing in your ears, and there’s a shrill ringing sound reverberating in your skull. “What the hell did you do?” Sebastian demands. Your vision is fading to black before you can respond. 

When you can finally fight off unconsciousness, you find yourself greeted with Sebastian’s unimpressed face staring down at you. “You’re one annoying fucker, you know that?” He remarks, leaning closer and looking strangely focused. You feel a familiar adhesive being wrapped around your forearm with surprising care. Then you remember just who is looming over you and you jolt up, very nearly crashing into Sebastian in the process. 

Sebastian dodges the unintentional assault, looking characteristically irritated. “And what was the purpose of that exercise, exactly?” He says sarcastically. 

You don’t bother answering, instead bringing a hand to your aching temple as a frown rises on your lips. Your temple is pulsating painfully, and the ringing sound refuses to quiet. Suddenly it’s as if you can hear far too much—the angler exploring the earlier halls in the distance, the hum of the electricity knitting the building together, and the water rushing out of a burst pipe in the room ahead. 

You attempt to get to your feet, only for your balance to topple as you lurch forward and catch yourself on the nearby desk. Your jaw hurts, and so do your cheekbones. Pain is thrumming through your teeth, and when you feebly bring a hand up to touch one, you find it far longer and sharper. The world is spinning around you for a long moment. Your chest is aching and when you bring a hand to your stinging neck, you find strange ripples reminiscent of gills. 

“Uh oh,” Sebastian remarks blandly. He moves closer and taps a finger to your forearm. Your attention captured, you blearily look down at your arm to find scales enmeshed in your skin. They glimmer in the dim light. “Looks like you’re more than just a human after all. Can’t say I’m too surprised; that would certainly explain why your death never seems to stick…” 

How in the fuck did this happen? You suppose it’s more than likely that you were exposed to dangerous materials and unidentified chemicals throughout your explorations through the Hadal Blacksite. But, from what you remember, Urbanshade likes to experiment on its prisoners with the DNA of other organisms. Is it possible that somehow happened to you too? It seems more likely (and realistic) to attribute this transformation to an angler’s bite. Usually, the anglers engulf you whole. If one had bitten you—and subsequently punctured your arm—it could’ve transferred some of its genetic material into your arm…? You have no idea. 

Unperturbed, Sebastian continues speaking. “I’d try to keep a low profile, if I were you,” he hums, still studying you with faux disinterest. It’s clear he doesn’t care to help you figure out this mess. “Monsters like us are catnip to those scientists.”

Monsters like us. You swallow past the taste of bile. 

“I’ll see if I can get you some protective clothing,” Sebastian continues, unaware (or perhaps just uncaring) of your internal crisis. “Maybe some gloves to hide your hands.” He looks pointedly at your hands and you follow his gaze, only to find lights blinking at the edges of your fingertips—reminiscent of an anglerfish’s lantern. 

You take a shuddering breath. None of this makes sense. But you’ll have to get used to it if you want to survive and get some answers. You take a few moments to collect your composure, before looking up at the hybrid. “…Thanks.” You suppose there’s something mildly comforting about how clinically Sebastian is handling all this—as if it’s no big deal. Maybe you’ll be okay. 

“Oh, don’t thank me yet, sweetheart,” Sebastian leers in response, a devilish smirk rising on his lips. “Everything I provide comes with a price.” His tail swishes and you feel goosebumps rise along your arms. The more you talk to Sebastian, the more he confuses you. One moment, he’s eager to help you; the next, he’s cackling at your demise. Is he friend or foe? You’re no closer to finding the answer to that particular query. With that recognition, you sigh and read over the file detailing the cause of your death—before you’re transported to the Blacksite once more. 

In the advent of your… transformation… Sebastian’s attitude changes. It’s almost an imperceptible switch, but you swear he seems a bit more patient with you now. His sarcastic remarks are more lighthearted and he almost seems to be on your side. Almost. 

And with your continued explorations, you start getting farther into the building. Soon you’re getting to Sebastian’s shop on every run… and nearing door 100. The first time you make it to the crystal and attempt to return safely, you’re accosted by a Squiddle—and then an angler, because life is never simple. You open your eyes to find Sebastian snorting in laughter, mocking you for how close you were to a successful mission. You grit your teeth and bear the brunt of his taunting, knowing you’re improving. 

The next time you get to the crystal, you’re prepared. You catalog the locations of nearby lockers, making sure you’re always within a short distance of one. You only use your black light to illuminate your path, which doesn’t irritate the Squiddles. You take your time moving through the seemingly endless halls, routinely interrupted by the anglers. After an immeasurable amount of time, the doors are swinging open and you’ve successfully secured the crystal. You close your eyes and breathe a sigh of relief, waiting for the welcome feeling of sunlight on your skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been to the surface. 

Instead, you’re met with a gratingly familiar darkness and the sound of sarcastic clapping. Your blood runs cold. “Well done… Well done.” Sebastian says. There’s a note of triumph in his voice, and you’re not quite deluded enough to attribute it to your success. 

“Why-?” You choke out, your tongue feeling glued to the roof of your mouth. You got the crystal and you completed your mission… Why are you still here? 

“Oh, that look on your face!” Sebastian grins, leaning forward until he’s uncomfortably close. You feel like a bug under a microscope. Your heart is racing in your chest as you try to comprehend just what he’s not saying. “Priceless, truly. You really think Urbanshade gives two shits about you?” He sneers. “About us? No.”

Your heart is stuck in your throat. Sure, your status as an “Expendable” is far from flattering, but you had assumed there would be some sort of reward for securing the crystal. Was that too optimistic? Judging from the sneer on Sebastian’s face, it was. “You’re stuck here. Forever.” Sebastian’s eyes gleam dangerously. 

Nausea climbs up your throat. Admittedly, you’re not as surprised as you should be. But the fact of the matter is that Sebastian’s utterance of those words has ushered in a whole new sense of reality. Before, you may have idly suspected it; now, you’re forced to reconcile with your eternal responsibility to act for an organization that views you as nothing more than expendable. The thought is sickening. 

“We’ve stalled long enough,” Sebastian interjects calmly, as if he hasn’t just destroyed your entire world. “Any longer and they’ll get suspicious.” His eyes flit to some unknown point behind you. There’s a tense silence for several seconds, before his voice breaks through it. “See you soon.” You can almost detect a hint of genuine emotion in his voice (something frighteningly close to pity). But then he’s smirking and you’re abandoning the thought. “Good luck.” 

You’re then swallowed by the darkness once more—and left to haunt the halls of the Blacksite until you inevitably see Sebastian again.

we all knew i'd get here. come on now. 💀

thanks for reading! <3

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[simstorian-blog]

Residential Floorplan Suggestions

New York City: TWO

(CC List + Links)

World Map: San Myshuno

Area: Spice Market – Waterside Warble

Lot Size:  30 x 30

Capacity:

A Dive Bar

An Internet Café

A Pizzeria

A Tattoo Parlor

Bonus: 6 residential rental units floorplans completed – not assigned

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Needed

Expansion Packs

Cats & Dogs

City Living

Discover University

For Rent

Get Together

Get To Work

Growing Together

High School Years

Horse Ranch

Snowy Escape

Game Packs

Dine Out

Dream Home Decorator

Jungle Adventure

Outdoor Retreat

Parenthood

Spa Day

Star Wars: Journey to Batuu

Strangerville

Vampires

Stuff Packs

Crystal Creations

Home chef Hustle

Laundry Day

Moschino

Kits

Castle Estate

Courtyard Oasis

Cozy Bistro

Desert Luxe

Recommended Gameplay Mods

(Please read through what each mod has to offer before deciding if it fits your gameplay style or not.)

Carl’s Dine Out Reloaded

City Vibes Lot Traits

Functional Tattoo Parlor

Functional Venue Lot Traits

Lock/Unlock Doors for Any Lot

Spawn Refresh

Use Residential Rentals shared areas as Community Lots & Create Multi-Purpose Community Lots

Build Mode

CharlyPancakes

Chalk Pt.2 (Tiles)

Felixandre

Chateau Pt. 1 (Stone Foundation)

Chateau Pt. 2 (Doors, Metal Pieces, Tiles, Walls)

Colonial Pt. 3 (Fence 2, Plaster Foundation 2, Railing 2)

Florence Pt. 1 (Fresco Mural)

Grove Pt. 4 (Plaster Column, Plaster Floor)

London Interior (Dining Chair, Stool, Walls)

Paris (Cartouche Large, Corbel, Swag)

Schwerin (Terracotta Female)

SOHO Pt. 2

SOHO Pt. 3

SOHO Pt. 4

Harrie

Brownstone Pt. 2 (Traditional Door Frame – Med, Traditional Door – Med, Traditional Window 2 - Med)

Coastal Pt. 2 (Column)

Klean Pt. 3 (Concrete Floor, Painted Walls)

Kwatei Pt. 1 (3x1 BiFold, Double Arch, Single Interior Door)

Mutske

Stairs Add-on

Lijoue

Louer Collection (Iron Fence, Railing, Stone Stairs)

Peacemaker

Bistro Expanded (Awning 1x1)

Graffiti Mural 01

Pierisim

Winter Garden Pt. 2 (Double Door High, High Window w Bottom x2)

Sooky88

Checkered Marble Floor

English Country Wall Set (Subway Tiles, Subway Tiles w Wallpaper)

Scandinavian Wall Set (Plain w Tiles)

Syboubou

Neighborly 1 (Ceiling Outdoor Light, Mailbox)

Neighborly 2 (Interphone)

Buy Mode

AroundTheSims4

Laundromat (Seating x3 – Metal Base)

Tattoo Parlor (First Aid Kits, Gloves, Ink, Ink Display, Light, Saddle Stool, Tattoo Gun)

Cepzid

Functional Tattoo Chair

Felixandre

Berlin Pt. 1 (Curtain – Tall)

SOHO Pt. 1

Harlix

Baysic (Coffee Table, container, End Table, Kitchen Cabinet, Kitchen Counter, Kitchen Island, Kitchen Sink, Kitchen Trolley, Kitchen Accent Counter 1-3, Sofa)

Jardane (Leather Pouffe)

Kichen (Cabinet, Cups, Glasses, Plant, Shelf)

Kichen 2.0 Pt. 2 (Glasses 2 & 4)

Harrie

Shop The Look 1 (Armchair, Coffee Table)

Shop The Look 2 (Ceramic Side Table)

Shop The Look 3 (Circular Cushion)

Spoons Pt. 2 (2 Tile Glass Pedastal- Short & Tall, Counters, Espresso Bar, Island, Pastry Platter, Pizza Board, Shelving)

Kiwisims4

Blockhouse Dining (Booth Seating)

KKB

The Chilling Home (Module Bar Stool)

LittlleDica

Greasy Foods (Napkins, Salt Shaker, Stalls Door, Stalls Wall, Vents, Wet Floor Sign)

Modern Kitchen Stuff (Soft Breeze)

Rise & Grind (Décor Mural 2, Décor Syrup Bottle, Décor Wall Painting Menu, Dining Tables – All, Wastebun Counter)

Max20

Happily Ever After (Sign of Attention)

NANDO

Fashion Store (Ceiling Lamp)

Pierisim

Coldbrew Coffee Shop Pt. 3 (Menu, Paper Cup, Tea Box, Tips Jar)

MCM Pt. 1 (Simstudio Display)

MCM Pt. 4 (Kitchen Island)

Ravasheen

Shake and Shimmy Dance Floor

Shop Chef (Drink Dispenser)

Severinka

Industrial Light II

Simkoos

Clutter Dump Pt. 2  (Boba Notepad, Boba Stacked Cups V1, Cafeteria Straw Dispenser)

SimspirationBuilds

Toffee Pt. 1 (Art)

Syboubou

Catherine Sushi Restaurant (Wall Shelf 1 & 3)

Contemporary Haven (Armchair, Artworks, End Table, Sofa 3P Left)

Macaron (Counter Display)

TaurusDesign

Lilith Chilling Area Pt. 1 (Bartender Kit, All Drinks, SulSul Sign)

Tuds

Cave (Panel Light 2 x 4)

IND 01

IND 03

Turn Couch

Wondymoon

Fraxinus AIO Computer (DL on Patreon)

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: DOWNLOAD

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

yeah can I request another one

thanks for your request!! sorry it took me so long to complete, there’s been a bit of a list as of late. here is another jameson x actress reader fic, hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

title: cheers rich boy

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you are an actress attending an event when a certain Hawthorne catches you off guard

warnings:

a/n: hope you enjoy reading 🤍🤍 apologies it took me AGES

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual

Your bodyguard opens the door of your limo and you step out onto a blood red velvet carpet. The startling flashes of cameras are nothing to you now, paparazzi have become a common occurrence that you’ve gotten used to. You tentatively take your bodyguard’s extended arm, barely gripping it as the flashes increase. You smile, posing for a few shots, ignoring the thousands of questions being screamed at you.

“Are you dating anyone?”

“How much were you paid on your latest movie?”

“Are you pregnant?”

“I think I’m in love with you!”

“How many men have you slept with?”

“You look gorgeous!”

“Look over here! My camera!”

“I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES!!”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at that last request. You follow your bodyguard into the large oak doors, with some sort of elaborate gold leaf design decorating them. He let your arm go and gave you a nod, as he skulked away. This is just another function for the rich and famous, nothing too special. You were used to them by now. They came easily and never made much of a memory. You had to show up, smile, make small talk, then leave. Simple.

Gracefully you walk through the doors, your navy blue gown trailing behind you a little. Ripples of silky fabric looking like a midnight waterfall, long and entrancing. Your head is held high, radiating the confidence you’d earned from years in this field. Now it was like second nature. Heads turned, eyes widened and fixated on you, smiles were shot in your direction. You are used to turning heads when you enter a room.

You acknowledge the ones you feel necessary and make your way to an area that looks the most isolated from the people. A few women you vaguely recognised approach you, taking your out of your princess moment.

“Your performance in ‘the high of love’ was simply exquisite,” one says, clutching to her heart.

You try not to cringe thinking about how you could never watch that movie back without critiquing your every move.

“Yes and in ‘opposites attract’,” another adds, “that was phenomenal!”

That one was even worse, you’d starred in that when you were only seventeen and quite new in the business.

“Thank you ladies, it’s so kind of you to say,” you smile, “I do try to give a good performance and I’m glad you enjoyed.”

They both give a polite nod and you take that as your chance to get away. Small talk had never really been your forte, much less small talk with the rich and famous, who usually weren’t the most interesting people to hold conversation with.

You make your way towards a casual champagne tower is perched in the centre of the large room and take a second to breathe in the surroundings. The room feels like a ballroom. Large glass windows that display the setting sun that splashes the sky in oranges, pinks and yellows. A million dollar chandelier hung in the centre, made up on expensive crystals and diamond-encrusted metal swirls.

You plan to stay as long as it take to get to the first speech and then sneak out the back when nobody was looking, it made it easier to avoid paparazzi then as well. Two birds, one stone. You spot a reasonably lonely area near a cabinet that was no doubt filled with precious and highly pricey antiques. But as you make your way over someone catches your eye.

People don’t catch your eye. Ever. But a mysterious man in a suit has. He’s gorgeous and probably dirt rich seen as he’s wearing an Armani suit, a deep ebony colour, that contrasted well with his eyes. His hair was dark, luscious and a little unruly but somehow he made it work. You couldn’t look away.

Why? That was what was bothering you the very much. Why on earth was some man at this function catch your eye and then further still play on your mind? It’s unlike you. You weren’t there type to sit around gawking at boys at events, you were headstrong, independent and didn’t need a man.

Mid thought, you look up just as he does. Harsh eye contact ensues. The green is like some sort of hypnosis that made you feel like a marionette. So alluring, so compelling. The connection so strong it felt unbreakable. Except it wasn’t. He looks away, unbothered. A feeling stirs in your stomach, an ignited spark of undignified annoyance. People don’t do that to you. They don’t turn their back unbothered, at least not your face. You have a reputation. People stopped and stared, people begged for your photograph, people cared. What was his deal?

You attempt to work out who he was. He was obviously famous or dating someone famous, which strangely you hoped he wasn’t, or he wouldn’t have been invited. You oddly recognise the parts of his face. The sharp jawline, angled nose, bold green eyes. But where from?

You were curious. Too curious.

Subtly you make your way towards the bar, close to the corner he is standing in. You hate yourself for secretly hoping he’ll notice and make his way over. You turn around to give him a second glance. Did he have to be so beautiful?

He makes eye contact and your heart suddenly picks up its pace, irritating you. You shouldn’t care this much that your body isn’t control of itself. You look him up and down and turn away. You could swear you’d seen a flicker of a smile of his face as your turned but it was too quick to be sure.

“One martini please,” you order with your polite smile plastered on your face.

“Make that two.”

You raise an eyebrow as the mystery man appears by your side. So you had gotten his attention.

“They’re on me,” he offers.

“I don’t need you to pay for me,” you tell him bluntly.

“Believe me I know that,” he smirks, “think of it as a gesture.”

“What kind of gesture?” you say, narrowing your eyes.

“One of honourable intention,” he assures you.

After a few moments of silent pondering you silently nod in agreement as the bartender rushes off. You can feel the man’s eyes pinned to you, but you don’t want to give into the temptation of looking back.

“Nice party,” he comments.

You cave and look back towards him, “quite,” you agree

“Are you here with anyone?” he asks.

“I don’t need anyone,” you reply sharply, more defensive than yours intended to come a cross.

“I’m sure you don’t,” he says the smile in his voice as well as on his face, he’s amused, “I’m here with my brother but I seem to have lost him.”

“Don’t you want to go and find him?” I wonder aloud.

“He’ll find his own way, he’s very resilient like that,” he explains.

The bartender comes back with the martinis at that moment and the man pays. Oddly you find yourself letting him. It’s nice being taken care of every once in a while. He slides a glass towards you, as you notice how the lighting made his green eyes a little bolder, fiercer.

“Enjoy moviestar,” he nods, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Cheers rich boy,” you say, with a whisper of a smile.

You take a swig from the glass. The refreshing burst of lemon hitting you before the strong gin sends the warmth into your chest.

He glances at you slightly, “I’m Jameson.”

“Jameson…” you prompt.

“Hawthorne,” he clarifies.

Hawthorne. Of course. It all made sense now. His sleek demeanour, his wicked smile, his addictive eyes. You remain neutral faced, not portraying what you thought for him to analyse. Hawthornes tended to do that.

“I’m-“

“I know exactly who you are,” he smiles, “how could anyone not with those eyes?”

A fluttery feeling invades your stomach, an unwanted guest in your body. You didn’t feel like this over people, especially not a man.

“My eyes?” you ask stupidly, as if in some sort of concussion-provoked daze.

“They’re breathtaking,” he compliments.

Red flushes through your cheeks and your face heats up, despite you not wanting it to. You try and ignore the compliment and not get so flustered by two words said by a sexy man in a suit.

“Then why did you look away from them so quickly earlier?” you challenge.

“Oh easy,” Jameson smirks with a shrug, “mind games.”

“Mind games?”

He nods, a wide smile on his face with a sparkling eyes, that send a twinge of annoyance down your spine.

“I don’t appreciate being toyed with,” you say in a disapproving tone.

“But I got your attention didn’t I?” he replies.

You feel like your tongue has been cut out as words don’t seem to remember how to form words.

“Would you have approached me otherwise?” he asks with a smirk.

“That doesn’t matter,” you say sharply, lying to myself as well as Jameson.

He quirks a brow, “doesn’t it?”

Yet again you find yourself scrambling for words like an incompetent idiot. Being at a loss for words was such an unfamiliarity it felt foreign. Why did he have this effect on you?

“So how about we get out of here?” he suggests, with a wink which I can only interpret as flirty.

You look at him, “just leave?”

“What? You’ve never pulled a runner on one of these tireless events?” Jameson chuckles, taking another sip of his martini.

“Of course I have,” you roll my eyes, “the bathroom window is my go to.”

It was true. The easiest way to slip away from these things unnoticed were bathroom windows, no one sees you leaving.

“Excellent so you already have the skill,” he replies, flashing me a grin, “what do you say we put it to the test?”

You pause for a few beats and then make the impulsive decision.

“Where were you thinking to go?” you ask, an eyebrow raised sceptically.

“Come with me and you’ll find out,” he smiles, face millimetres from mine.

You glance around, looking over your shoulder. No one was watching. It couldn’t hurt.

“You’re on Hawthorne,” you murmur, taking his hand.

a/n: if you haven’t read it already, there is another jameson x actress reader fic called starstruck and similarly a grayson x singer reader fic called paparazzi

TIG masterlist

[iovetecchou]

⌜Love To Hate You ⧸ Hate To Love You⌟ 𓂃༞♡

༞ Gojo Satoru x Reader

༞ Contains...! partial smut, angst, fluff, misunderstandings, enemies to lovers trope, implied hidden feelings, "princess" used as a nickname for the reader, dancing, alcohol, cursing, bickering, banter, making out, groping, heavy petting, grinding, fondling, slight begging

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 2,140 words.

༞ Part 3/? Part 1. Part 2.

The ride over to Gojo's place was eerily quiet. You made small talk about the students, only slightly bickering when Gojo disagreed with how you graded the last exam.

It felt strange being alone with Gojo in his apartment. You've only ever been over for school parties and gatherings. But now that you had his full undivided attention- you felt a bit nervous.

"Before you ask, the liquor cabinet is in the kitchen," Gojo smirked as he made a beeline down the hall. You observed his apartment curiously as you treaded through.

"Trust me, I didn't forget that vital intel." You heard Gojo chuckle as he pulled a few ingredients from the refrigerator, before retrieving his cutting board and a clean knife.

"Oh, so you memorized my apartment? I didn't realize you were so in love with me, princess," Gojo watched you intently as you raided his stash. He rolled up his sleeves before he began preparing dinner.

"Don't flatter yourself, G- Satoru… I only memorized the goods." You scoffed, letting out an excited gasp as you found the bottle you had your heart made up on trying months ago.

"Ah! Found it!" You excitedly exclaimed as you made your way over to Gojo. You perched yourself against his island as he skillfully chopped a few vegetables.

Gojo gave a once-over to the bottle you gleefully clutched. "Ah, excellent choice, princess. That's one of my favorites." Gojo carefully placed the knife atop the cutting board before turning in his place.

He rummaged through his cupboard before pulling out two fancy wine glasses. "Allow me," He whispered. Gojo's fingertips grazed the back of your hand as he grabbed the bottle of liquor from your grasp.

You felt yourself get hot from the soft touch, mentally cursing yourself for being so impacted. Gojo carefully poured the fine wine into the glasses, taking a swift sip before continuing dinner.

"How do you like it, princess?" Gojo lifted his gaze from the prepped vegetables to admire your reaction. When the saccharine liquor crashed over your tastebuds, you let out a groan. Throwing your head back slightly in delight.

"It's better than what I pictured!" You sighed, not failing to notice the prominent blush adorning Gojo's cheeks from your enthusiastic display. He smiled softly at you before ushering over to where you were standing. Gojo tangled his hand into yours as his other palm rested flat against the small of your back. Pulling you flush against his chest.

"Dance with me for a little, yeah?" He quipped, taking a large step back. You followed in tow, allowing the lanky man to take the reins. Gojo hummed a soft melody as he spun you around his large dining room. You couldn't help but giggle with how he maneuvered the both of you through his home.

"You know, I thought you would be a lot better at dancing. You're terrible, Satoru!" Your giggles wracked through your whole being as he pulled you impossibly close to his sturdy chest. You could have sworn you felt his heart from how hard it was beating against his ribcage.

Gojo let out an airy chuckle before his grip on your waist tightened. He held you close as he dipped you, squeezing your hand that was intertwined with his. You felt heat course through your body as he cradled you in his arms. Gojo moved his face impossibly close to yours, leaving you with no choice but to gaze up at him.

"Hmm… guess I'll have to practice more if I want to impress you with my dancing skills, princess," Gojo whispered. You were beginning to get shy under the intense gaze. Even past the blindfold, you could feel his crystal eyes on you. All the witty quips you had lined up died on your tongue before you could utter them.

Gojo slowly lifted you back up, still holding you tight. Your hands shakily came up to his face. His smile faltered slightly as he anticipated your next move. "So you're trying to impress me? Good to know." You uttered as your fingertips hooked under the fabric of his blindfold.

You slowly pulled the cloth down his face, revealing his mesmerizing diamond-blue eyes. Gojo smiled softly at you as his blindfold came to rest around his neck like an ill-fitting necklace. "I'm always trying to impress you, princess."

You couldn't take your eyes off him as your hands cupped his annoyingly perfect face. His minty breath tickled your lips when he spoke. A constant reminder of the proximity. You hadn't noticed the way Gojo's long leg wedged itself between yours until you felt the top of his thigh pressing into your core.

You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle a whine, but to no avail. Gojo heard it. Loud and clear. "Fuck, you drive me crazy." He muttered, pressing further into you. Another moan slipped past your lips as your hands dropped down to his shoulders. You balled the fabric of his uniform into your fists as you held onto him for stability. You could feel your legs trembling.

"Satoru… kiss me, please," You whined. Gojo didn't need to be asked twice. In an instant, his lips were on yours. If your legs weren't shaky enough before, they sure as hell were now. You clutched his shoulders even fiercer as his tongue darted past your parted lips. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as Gojo groaned against your mouth.

You could tell he was desperate for you by the way his hands came down to roam along your sides. His large palms squeezed your waist tightly before they trailed lower. Gojo hooked his hands underneath the back of your thighs before hoisting you up. Never once breaking the kiss.

Your mind flashed back to that heated moment you both shared in the elevator as your legs wrapped around his waist. You could feel the heat pooling in your core as Gojo's tongue swirled along yours. Your hands now found purchase in his snowy tufts of hair, grazing along his undercut.

"Fuck, princess. So good… so fucking good," Gojo mumbled in between kisses. You were so lost in the moment that you hadn't realized Gojo began taking long strides toward his bedroom. Only putting two and two together when the backs of your thighs hit the edge of his mattress.

"Satoru, I need more. Please!" You begged pathetically, too aroused to care about how desperate your plea was. But lucky for you, Gojo was just as desperate for you. His hands quickly found the waistband of your pants, tugging them down your legs in one tug. You let out a small gasp as his nimble digits worked on removing your shirt next, leaving you in only your bra and panties.

Gojo took a step back to admire your half-naked form. You watched as his icy gaze trailed up and down your body. "So beautiful, princess. I need you too- so fucking badly." He whispered as he wedged himself between your parted thighs.

Gojo cupped your face as he knelt slightly to capture your lips once more. Your hands began eagerly tugging at the waistband of his pants, urging them down his hips desperately. Once you pulled his slacks down over his thighs, your hand came up to cup his length from beneath his boxers.

"Ah! S-Shit, princess. Do that again- please." Gojo huffed against your lips. You experimentally palmed his hard length once more, reveling in the soft whines he let out against your lips. Gojo gently pushed you to rest flat against his mattress as he made himself comfortable on top of you.

You lost yourself in the pleasure of his mouth against yours, and the moment you felt his long fingers slide along the crotch of your panties, you moaned. "Fuck, you're so worked up for me, princess. Practically dripping through your cute little panties." Gojo smirked against your lips as the pad of his thumb found your clit through the flimsy garment.

"S-Satoru! Fuck- shut up! It's your fault I'm so worked up… so it's your responsibility to take care of this mess." You huffed, heating up with embarrassment as he began circling your clit through your panties with more pressure.

"Gladly, princess. Gladly. Now let me hear more of those pretty little noises, yeah? You can do that for me, right?" His voice was deep and teasing against your lips as he rubbed tight circles into clit with vigor. Your legs trembled beside you as your orgasm neared.

"Hah… I'm so glad we're doing this. Once we fuck this frustration out of our system, we can go back to normal." You huffed. Gojo's ministrations stopped the moment those words left your lips. He lifted himself off of you as he studied your expression intently.

"Satoru… why did you stop? I was so close!" You whined. Sitting up and tugging on his waist; in an attempt to get him to continue. He averted his gaze from yours as he slowly backed away. Gojo knelt to retrieve your clothing. He slowly began dressing you. Pulling your pants up your legs as he mumbled, "I'm sorry, princess. I hate to leave you hanging, but I don't think we should do this."

Embarrassment flooded your entire being as you shot up from his bed. You swiftly snatched your shirt out of his hands before tugging it over your head. "I don't fucking get you. You tell me that you like me, invite me over, and then leave me hanging? Was this all a part of your plan from the beginning?"

Your embarrassment mixed with frustration as you grilled him, crossing your arms over your chest as you awaited a response. Gojo let out a deep sigh as he pulled his slacks back up his lean legs. "No, princess. It's not like that at all. I just- I don't think you and I want the same things."

His response only left you with more questions than answers. "So you don't want me… in that way?" You shook your head in confusion, trying your hardest to understand.

"I do! Believe me, Y/N… I really fucking do. I think about it every day. But I want more than just sex from you…" Gojo sighed, slumping down to sit on his bed as he brought his hand up to ruffle through his hair.

Your eyebrows were knitted in concentration as you scored your bottom lip with your teeth. The wheels in your brain were turning as you recounted all the interactions you and Gojo shared throughout your time at Jujutsu High.

That's when it clicked for you. When Gojo said he liked you earlier today... he meant that more seriously than you initially thought.

"Satoru… so when you said you liked me, you meant-"

"Yes, Y/N. I want to be with you. I don't want to sleep with you just to get our frustrations out and then go back to how things have been between us. I want more than that. I want more of you."

His words made your heart rate speed up. All of this felt unreal, and Gojo's intense gaze boring through you only made you more nervous. Sure, you had wet dreams about your annoyingly sexy superior. But you never entertained the idea of being in a relationship with him.

Your mouth opened and shut a few times with no words actually escaping past your lips. You were completely at a loss for words, and you didn't know what you wanted. This was all so sudden.

"I… thank you for the wine, but I really should be going now. I'll see you tomorrow." You nearly fumbled over your words before you turned on your heel. Making a beeline toward the front door. You didn't fail to notice the look of hurt on Gojo's face before you turned your back on him.

You could hear his heavy footsteps as he caught up to you. "Hey, Y/n- just wait a second, would ya? Did I scare you off with what I said? What's with the sudden dismissive attitude?" He gently grasped your wrist, turning you to face him. Gojo looked stressed as he searched your expression for answers.

You averted your gaze, taking in a deep breath before you mumbled, "I need to think about all of this, I'm sorry. I… don't know what I want right now." Gojo's lips curved into a small frown as he released your wrist. He gave you a slow nod before grabbing the door for you. Seeing Gojo so distraught over this made you feel awful, but you needed time to ponder.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." Gojo's voice was laced with regret as he watched you step out his door. You didn't dare to look at him as you hurriedly said, "See you tomorrow."

Did you just make the wrong decision?

taglist: @mystickenma @bookiuo @delightfulpersonmentality @creamhoodie @iloveyoutyyy @janbannan @akutagawacvmslvt

[the-broken-truth]

Last Meal - Jamil Viper [Yandere] [Female Yuu] [Mini-Series?]

Summary: After spending a year in Twisted Wonderland, Crowley finds a way to send Yuu back to her Original world; while she is happy with this news, a certain serpent servant is not. How does he cope? By making a very special meal - their last meal together.

[Notification: New Message from Jamil Viper 🐍]

Jamil Viper 🐍: I heard the news... Crowley found a way to send you back home, correct, Prefect.

Prefect: Yeah! I'll be able to head home tomorrow morning. I'm actually glad you texted, I wanted to take you for everything you've done for me, Jamil-senpai.

Jamil Viper 🐍: I see... What about Dinner?

Prefect: Dinner?

Jamil Viper 🐍: If tonight is going to be your last night in Wonderland, I would like to make dinner for you and we can talk one last time. I already prepared the food and I'm currently on my way to Ramshackle. Is that alright?

Prefect: Sure! I would love to have one last meal with you!

Jamil Viper 🐍: Yes... One Last Meal.

About 5 minutes after the last message was received, there was a knock on Ramshackle's Front Door. Yuu placed her phone in her pocket, left her room, walked down the stairs, and opened the front door to reveal Jamil Viper standing on the other side of the door with two large bags in his hands while dressed in his casual clothing, his signature hoodie on display for the Prefect of Ramshackle to see.

"Hello, Jamil-senpai!" Yuu said as she moved to the side to allow Jamil to walk in.

"Good evening, Prefect." Jamil said before looking around as if trying to find something, "Is Grim around?"

"No. Grim decided that he was going to head to Heartslabyul and stay with Ace and Deuce; it was kinda weird because it was as if he was hiding something." Yuu said as she closed the door behind her before walking over to Jamil, looking down at the bags in Jamil's hands. "What did you bring?"

"Some high-grade steaks and some other sides that would best compliment the steaks." Jamil looked into the eyes of the Prefect before smiling at her," This is going to be a lovely dinner. Just for the two of us."

Yuu looked into Jamil's eyes - an unknown emotion, mysterious but dangerous. Something within her was telling her that something was not right with Jamil, however, Yuu knew that Jamil was always a mysterious person and that could just be how he currently was since he wasn't too happy about Yuu leaving in the morning.

Jamil walked into the Dining Room and began to set the table after collecting plates and wine glasses from Ramshackle's Kitchen Cabinets; Jamil brought the crystal wine glasses with him. Yuu watched as Jamil placed the food on the plates before pulling her chair out for her, waiting for her to sit, and pushing her chair in before walking to the other side of the table and taking a seat. The two of them said a prayer to the Great Seven before they started eating while enjoying conversation about their past adventures.

After dinner, Jamil was washing the dishes while Yuu was enjoying the dessert that Jamil made for her: It was a Strawberry Parfait with whipped cream and some small fruits that resembled seeds; she felt like she had seen something like that before but she couldn't place her finger on it and ate the dessert before turning to Jamil who was placing a plate in the drying rack.

"Jamil-senpai, you don't have to wash the dishes; ya know?" Yuu asked.

"I just want to be a good guest. This is your dorm after all." Jamil said, not turning to face Yuu, but the tone in his voice was...different; she remembered that tone when she met him when he was hiding his true intentions.

"It won't matter in the morning... I'll be gone." Yuu said.

Jamil was silent for a while before he spoke again.

"Prefect... In your Original World, do you have any Mythology that originated in Greece that you are familiar with?" Jamil asked while he was drying a wine glass.

"Greek Mythology? I mean, they taught us some but I don't remember everything. Why?" Yuu asked.

"I am curious if your Mythology matches with our own." Jamil answered.

"Hmmm...." Yuu pondered for a moment before answering with the first thing that came to mind, "Oh, I remember this one rule: Do not eat food in the Underworld, otherwise you will not be able to leave! Oh, and avoid pomegranates unless you are offering them to Lord Hades!"

"I see... Your Knowledge is similar to our own in regards to the King of the Underworld, but there are a few...differences." Jamil said as he placed the glass on the drying rack; that was his last dish but he kept his back turned to Yuu for a moment, "Our myth is about food, but it's more about cooking it there."

"Huh?" Yuu questioned.

"Here is our myth: If you consume food that has been cooked in the Flames of the Underworld, regardless if you are in the Underworld or the Mortal Realm when you eat the food, you will die if you are not from a host of high power." Jamil explained, "However...if you consume pomegranate seeds before the effects of the tainted food take effect, you will survive but... your soul will be...reborn. Everything you once were will be erased and you shall be a new template; ready to be shaped. It is a painful process...painful but necessary."

"That's rather...brutal. Why are you telling me this?" Yuu asked.

Suddenly, Jamil's Phone started ringing; the Viper pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked to see who was calling before telling Yuu that he needed to take this before walking out of the kitchen, and out the front door to have his conversation in private.

Yuu sat there for a while when she felt a light tightness in her chest before using her fist to lightly hit her chest as if she was trying to bring up a burp, but a cough came up instead; she instinctively covered her mouth and violently coughed into it before removing her hand from her mouth and looked down at it - her eyes widened as her eyes landed on a crimson stain on her palm of her hand...

"Blood?" She questioned herself before she coughed once again, even worse this time, and her heart was hurting even worse; as if something was pulling her apart from the inside. She tried to stand up but her body suddenly felt weak as she fell to the ground, causing her phone to fly out of her loose pocket and slide across the floor.

Yuu continued to cough up blood, the pain getting worse and worse with each passing moment; she clenched her shirt over her heart as she looked at the door, she wanted to call out for Jamil but her voice was hurting; she couldn't speak. She looked around, her vision starting to blur when her eyes landed on her phone. She pushed through the pain and crawled to the device, she reached out for it, only for a tan and to reach down and pick up the phone before she could grab it. Her eyes landed on familiar tennis shoes as she weakly looked up and landed in the face of Jamil Viper, watching as he placed her phone in his hoodie pocket. Yuu attempted to speak through her blood-stained lips but Jamil knelt beside her and gently caressed her face while shushing her.

"I know. I know it hurts, My Diamond... It's so painful but necessary." Jamil whispered.

Yuu's eyes widened.

The story.

This pain.

Everything made sense: Jamil fed her food that had been cooked using the flames of the underworld.

She was dying...

"No, My Diamond, you are not dying; you are being reborn. Your dessert is making sure of that." Jamil said while smiling at her before gently holding her in his arms, not caring that her blood was getting on his hoodie.

"I never wanted to do this, none of us did, but we could not all you to turn to the world you came from; you belong here in Wonderland but you never understood that. You wanted to leave me and the world we were building together, but I couldn't allow that to happen. I need you, My Diamond, just as you need me." He gently kissed her forehead, "You will experience more pain in the coming days, but everything will be for your betterment, and once everything is said and done... We shall have our Happily Ever After. Rest, My Diamond, don't fight it... Let the rebirth happen and I shall be there to guide you."

With those words, the pain became too much for Yuu to bear and she slipped into an unconscious state of mind. Jamil looked at her body for a while before pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing a number, putting it up to his ear.

"It's done. Prepare the room and get everyone together." Jamil said.

"Understood." The other persona said before hanging up.

Jamil looked at Yuu's face before pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping the blood from Yuu's lips, "Everything is going to be alright, My Diamond in the Rough; once everything is done, no one will be able to take you from me again...nor will you escape me. Everything will be as it is supposed to be." Once her face was clean, he placed a tender kiss on her lips, "I love you. I love you so much."

The front door opened and Jamil looked behind him at the eyes watching him. He lifted Yuu in his arms and carried her out of Ramshackle before the door slammed behind him, leaving the Prefect's Dorm in darkness.

[END?]

[rhettabbotts]

“friends don’t do this kind of shit”

“this feels dirty” “that's because it is”

with our favourite dilf? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

no rules in breakable heaven - rhett abbott

pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

summary: when a late night turns into a learning experience.

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only. SMUT. corruption kink. age gap (babysitter mid 20s, rhett late 30s). inexperienced reader. making out. fingering. hand job. consumption of alcohol but both parties are lucid. dirty talk. daddy kink. talks of losing virginity.

a/n: dilf rhett and babysitter’s origin story! pour one out for the fatherless girls.

“Guys my age are just so - they don’t understand women. They think about one thing and one thing only and when you don’t want to give them that thing, you’re useless to them. It’s so frustrating,” you exclaimed, sinking further down into Rhett’s couch. 

You don’t know why you were talking about this with your boss. He should be the last person you’re ranting to about your troubled love life. But he was here and he was listening, thumb caressing your bare ankle in lazy circles. You hadn’t planned on spilling your guts to him on his couch but you couldn’t stop it. 

Rhett had worked late, something about the fences being torn down by the recent storm and it had to be fixed before the cows got out of the south pasture. You didn’t mind staying longer than planned. You loved every minute you were able to spend with the girls. Bedtime with them was easy, you had enjoyed a long day at the park, letting them play in the splash pad to their heart's content. They were both out like a light the second their heads hit their pillows. 

You tidied up their toys in the living room and made quick work of the dishes from dinner, storing the leftovers in the fridge for Rhett later. It was nearly ten o’clock when you heard the horses riding in, the bunkhouse boys being rowdy as always. Peeking up from your book when the sound of the lock clicked, you saw Rhett. Sweaty and grimy and all cowboy. His hair was curling at the ends, courtesy of the humidity. Kicking his boots off and mumbling “shower”, he was gone and out of your sight. 

You were half tempted to pack your bags and slip out before he finished his shower but you were also tempted to stay. So you stayed. You heated up a plate for him when you heard the water shut off, sitting down at the table to wait for him. You felt silly. You knew he probably wanted to just lay down and go to sleep but you missed him as crazy as that sounds. Over the past several months of babysitting his daughters, you had grown close to Rhett. You didn’t have many friends that lived close by and he spent most of his days working, so it was nice to sit down and have a glass of wine and talk to someone who was over the age of ten. 

You ignored your friends’ comments about how “he totally wanted to fuck you.” You would roll your eyes and brush off their crude comments, reminding them that he was just a friend - really, just your employer. But you couldn’t stop from wishing there was something more, that you could be something more. 

Brought back to reality by the sound of Rhett’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and into the kitchen, your body ran hot at the sight before you. Dressed now in a tight fitting black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, he looked delectable. You mentally smacked yourself for even having those thoughts. He was silent as he pulled out a crystal glass and reached for the top shelf in the cabinet, displaying a bottle of expensive whiskey. 

“Rough day?” You questioned as he poured himself a generous amount of the dark liquid. 

“You have no idea,” he responded before downing the drink in one gulp. He made a satisfied sound as it made its way down his throat. Rhett finally looked at you and he smiled softly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You were in a daze, looking at him, watching the way his muscles rippled beneath the shirt. Finally snapping out of it at his acknowledgment of the food, you cleared your throat and shifted in your seat.

“Oh.. that? It was nothing. I figured it would be more fulfilling than chicken nuggets and mac and cheese. We already had that today,” you said, a small smile forming on your own face. 

He pulled the chair out and sat down across from you, sinking into the seat and digging into the food you had prepared. You were silent while he ate, trying not to stare at the way his jaw worked or the way his hand dwarfed the metal fork. He finished hastily, like he hadn’t had anything to eat in weeks. 

“That was amazing,” he sighed, a satiated grin on his face as he patted his belly. “Where the hell did you learn how to cook like that?”

“Had to survive college somehow,” you giggled, earning a small chuckle in return. You reached for his empty plate but was quickly intercepted by him grabbing your wrist, not roughly but it made you squeak nonetheless. 

“I got it, don’t worry about it. You’re not my maid.”

“I just wanted - I know you’ve had a long day and I wanted you to rest,” you stammered. 

“And I will. You’ve had a long day, too. Will you - do you want to stay for a little longer? Tell me how today was? I’ve got a bottle of wine I’ve been meaning to crack open,” he spoke quietly, nervously. How could this man ever be nervous? He made you nervous. 

“I’d love to.”

Nearly half a bottle later and you were explaining to him how your failed blind date went. How the guy immediately went in for a kiss when you made it to your car. Wine gave you no filter, even if it was only one glass. You knew you were in dangerous territory but you continued. 

“I truly don’t think they know how to satisfy a woman. I mean - do you guys grow out of that or is it just something embedded into your DNA?”

“Trust me, honey. Not all guys are like that,” Rhett said as his thumb rubbed a bit higher, brushing across your lower shin. It made you shiver slightly, the callus that was on the pad scratched against your skin. His eyes were heavy, squinting a little at you as his mouth twitched up into a smirk. 

“Hell, I’ve never even had a guy give me an orgasm before!” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. Your hand slapped over your mouth the second the last syllable left your tongue. Rhett’s eyes widened and his thumb stopped, mouth agape. Your own eyes widened in horror at your confession. 

“That was so inappropriate! I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“Are you serious?”

His question was genuine. He was curious. 

“Um, yeah. It’s just- well just the one time. In college when I- it was over in like, maybe five minutes? And he left right after. Oh, this is so embarrassing.” Your hands shielded your face, you couldn’t bear to look at him. 

“Hey, it’s not embarrassing. That guy was a shithead for doing that. That’s not a real man,” Rhett explained. “Your partner should always focus on your needs as well. They need to take care of you.”

Rhett shifted on the couch, closer to you. Your upper thighs were pressed against his and your breath caught in your throat. Something shifted in the air. You felt it. Rhett’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he quickly glanced down to your chest, watching as it rose and fell in short breaths. 

“Rhett-“

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, like he was saying it to himself. Like he didn’t mean to say it out loud for you to hear. You gasped softly. He was looking at you in such a way that it made your thighs clench involuntarily. A dark heat in his cobalt eyes that you had never seen before. You surged forward, tangling your fingers into his hair and crushing your lips against his own. 

Rhett moaned unabashedly, licking into your mouth without preamble. His hands traveled to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You were so enraptured in the feeling of the way he licked and nipped and the way his grip tightened on your hips, you couldn’t think straight. Once your brain caught up to what was happening, you pulled away.

“Rhett, we- we shouldn’t. You’re- and I’m- we’re friends and this shouldn’t happen. It would complicate things and-“

“Friends don’t do this kind of shit. Dance around each other for months. The flirting. The teasing. I can’t be just friends with you, honey. I want- I want more with you. I can’t get you off my mind. You’re all consuming.”

His confession made your chest ache. You felt the same way. You have felt the same way for a long time and now he was here right at your fingertips. You pulled him in for another bruising kiss. 

Things progressed much quicker after the second kiss. His rough hands roamed over the planes of your body, sliding up your thighs and under your dress, fingertips dipping under the hem of your panties where your thighs met your ass. You bucked your hips reflexively, causing you both to release wanton sounds. 

“Rhett. Touch me. Please, touch me,” you whined desperately, moving your hips clumsily against his own. He laughed lightly as he pulled away to settle back into the couch cushions. Your heart was beating rapidly, a thousand race horses galloping against your rib cage. He was drinking you in like he drank the whiskey earlier, hands coming up to grope your chest. 

“You’re a dream, baby. An absolute dream.” His voice once laced with sleep was now full of lust, desire, want. No one has ever made you feel the way he’s making you feel now. It was like he knew the effect he had on you, if the smug smile on his face was any indication. “This what you wanted?”

Your nipples hardened and Rhett tugged at them through the thin material of your dress. Your own hands found their way to his strong chest, running them over his broad shoulders and up his neck. You tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear, such a soft gesture compared to the way he was squeezing at your breasts. A particularly sharp tug to the pebbled bud pulled a whine out of you. 

“I want- I need you- oh, please,” you babbled. 

“Tell me,” Rhett commanded. 

“Want you to touch me here,” you said as you grabbed one wrist and put his hand between your thighs. His hand cupped your clothed pussy and dug the heel of his palm against your clit. He hummed, pleased with how wet you felt even through the cotton. 

“Good girl. Fuck, you’re so wet. I can feel it.”

His finger traced a line from your hole to the bundle of nerves, moving up until he dipped it into the waistband. He took his time, drawing slow circles around it like he had previously with your ankle. That felt like a lifetime ago. You whimpered as he traveled lower, tracing your swollen lips languidly. Effortlessly. Even when you did this, it never felt this good. The angle was awkward but he slid one finger into your dripping hole, leading you to jerk in his lap. 

“So tight. Squeezing my finger like that. God, honey. Is this all for me?” He thrust his thick finger in and out of you at a slow pace. 

“All for you, daddy,” you moaned before you realized what you were saying. His low groan and harsher thrusts of his finger validated your feelings. He liked that just as much as you did. He soon added a second finger, stretching you more. 

“Can I- please can I touch you, too?” You nearly begged, nails digging into his biceps at the feeling of his digits moving inside you. 

“Yeah, baby. Touch daddy. Shit,” he grumbled as your hand slid beneath the elastic of the sweatpants. It took some maneuvering but you were able to pull them down below his hips. His cock was rock hard, pink tip leaking precum and you so desperately wanted to get your mouth on him. Your thumb rubbed just under the head, biting your lip when his hips thrust up. 

His unoccupied hand grabs your wrist and raises it to his face, pursing his lips and spitting a generous amount into your palm. 

It was quiet for a few moments as you both found your rhythm again. You tried your hardest to match the thrusts of his fingers but you couldn’t focus, not with the way he hit that spongy spot inside you every single time. 

“This feels- god, this feels dirty. Fuck, Rhett. Right there,” you whimpered. 

“That’s because it is. God, listen to you. No one’s ever made you feel this way, have they? Baby, shit- tighten your grip just a little- there it is. Atta girl,” he praised. 

You were so close already, trying your best to stave off the feeling in hopes of this lasting longer. But you were chasing that high, riding his fingers eagerly. He was leaking on your hand, canting his hips up to get more friction. Hushed moans and grunts escaped the two of you and you drew near to the edge. 

All it took was one gasp of your name from Rhett’s mouth to send you spiraling into pure bliss. You threw your head back in a silent scream. Your thighs quaked uncontrollably as the pleasure washed over you. It took just a few more pumps before Rhett’s release. He had leaned forward to crush his mouth against yours, moaning as he came all over your hand and inner thighs. It was all so overwhelming. All of these new feelings and questions that swarmed your brain as you both came down from your climax. 

You sat on top of Rhett breathless, wincing slightly as he pulled his fingers from you. They glistened in the low light and you saw stars when he slid his digits inside his mouth, licking them clean of you. 

“You taste good,” he said nonchalantly. “Let me get a towel so I can clean you up, okay? I’ll be right back.” He placed a gentle kiss to your lips before grabbing a warm wash cloth from the bathroom down the hall. 

Your mind was reeling. Rhett just got you off. Rhett kissed you back. Rhett said he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Rhett-

“Here you go, honey.” The warm dampness jolted you out of your thoughts and you were staring up at the man before you. His graying hair hung down in his face, framing it like a portrait. “You okay?”

“You just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I’m perfect,” you teased. He rolled his eyes but there was only affection in the gesture. Rhett pulled you into his lap once more after he cleaned you, kissing all over your face. 

“So… what now?”

“Now… I’m gonna sit here with a pretty girl in my lap and kiss her until she’s tired of kissing me. Listen, I really like you. And I know this will be hard to navigate but… I can’t give you up now, honey,” Rhett declared. 

“I really like you too, Rhett,” you affirmed before leaning forward for another kiss. It was going to be difficult for numerous reasons but you were ready to face it head on. Maybe it was okay to be a little selfish for once. 

[overlyactivepingpongball]

spent almost $600 on rocks fossils and crystal samples at a geological exposition in the city, built an ikea display cabinet and spent two hours sorting them and displaying them

anyone that has rock collections on display, got two things i need help with

what do you use to prop up your smaller samples? i’ve got a couple plastic display stands for the flat pieces but the tiny little things like my bismuth crystal and obsidian arrowhead can’t fit so just sorta sit on the glass right now

and what do you use for dangerous samples like asbestos or pieces that have lots of toxic dust? i’ve got a lil band of asbestos that i keep in a sandwich bag but i’d like something a bit more significant that i can also prop it up and angle it with, with a better seal lmao

[dawn-moths]

can you do #5 with your cause to start a vendetta undertaker (preferably if like the reader has done something she maybe shouldn’t have and the sound of his steps part of it is kind of like foreboding)? thanks :)

oh my gosh yes! i really like the twist on the prompt too!

prompt: recognising the sound of their steps

character: undertaker (kuroshitsuji // cause to start a vendetta)

words: 1800+

content warning: 18+ content, minors dni! daddy kink, reader is called “princess, sweetheart, good girl, doll, brat”, allusion to punishment (non-consensual spanking with a belt).

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The moment you hear the key turn in the front door, you go running, bolting down the long hallways, nearly slipping a few times as your socked feet struggle to grip the polished, checkerboard marble when you take a turn too fast.

You know he’ll see it first thing when he walks in— the shimmering, shattered shards of black and gold porcelain that belonged to what used to be Undertaker’s favorite teacup and saucer, now reduced to sharp debris scattered across the floor.

And you hadn’t meant to break it, honestly, you really hadn’t.

You’d been walking back to the kitchen to wash it and put it right back in its rightful place in the highest cabinet without him knowing you’d so much as looked at it, let alone actually drank from it.

But you’d been trying to catch the end of an exciting scene playing on tv from the movie you’d been watching, eyes and thoughts elsewhere as your clumsy feet shuffled backward, trying to carry you out of the room to complete your task before you lost track of time and he caught you red handed.

That’s when your heel had caught on the folded edge on one of the rugs, sending you stumbling back and barely catching yourself on the arm of the couch before tumbling backward.

Your blood ran cold the moment you heard the shattering, eyes going wide and your next breath catching in a horrified gasp halfway up your throat. It didn’t matter how terrifyingly slow you turned your head to look over your shoulder at the cause of the bone chilling sound. You already knew the damage was done.

But it wasn’t the fact that you’d broken a teacup that would upset Undertaker on a level severe enough you felt the need to hide. This wasn’t your first absentminded mishap and it certainly wouldn’t be your last.

It was the fact that he’d specifically told you never to use that teacup in the first place and you’d blatantly disobeyed him.

“They’re all so pretty!” you’d exclaimed with awe when he’d first shown you his extensive collection of teacups and mugs and one of a kind blown glass drinkwear that were displayed behind the windowed cabinets above the kitchen sink.

They were custom art pieces that came from all over the world, he’d told you, elaborating on some specific origins of a few you seemed most drawn to.

Your usual favorite was a glossy black and white teacup sculpted with red lycoris flowers, the saucer it was paired with painted over with thin gold streaks to look like it was covered in the most delicate lace.

“You can use any of them you like,” Undertaker had told you, watching your face light up even more, knowing you were already making a mental list of what order you’d drink from them in and with what kind of tea. But then he added, as if suddenly remembering something important, “There’s just one I need you to promise me never to use, alright?”

That’s when he’d brought your attention to the teacup that was now little more than shards, that first memory of seeing it beautifully displayed on the top shelf still crystal clear amidst all the regret and guilt flooding your mind.

“A very special friend gave this to me a long time ago,” he explained as you gazed up at the tempting, off-limits cup. “I only use it on very special occasions, and it would make me very angry if anything ever happened to it. Understand, princess?”

Back then, you’d nodded and sworn never to touch it just like a good girl should, and truly, you would’ve kept that promise if not for the fact that, just that morning, you’d felt like Undertaker had broken a promise he’d made to you.

“But you said we were going out today!” you’d whined, stomping your foot down and clenching your fists, clearly having woken up in a bratty mood. “You said we’d spend the day together! You promised!”

Undertaker had let out an irritated sigh, clearly not having time for your tantrum as he skillfully tied his tie with quick, fluid motions and shrugged on his sleek obsidian coat, replying with a rather curt, “I know, sweetheart. But Daddy has some urgent business to attend to and I’m afraid it can’t wait.” He’d glanced at you over his shoulder, your fit turned to abundant disappointment as you sank back onto the edge of the bed and wore a pout.

“I promise to make it up to you, alright?” he’d said, his voice sounding a little sweeter that time, hoping to coax you at least halfway back to a good mood. “Just be a good girl while I’m away and I’ll have a special surprise for you by the time I get home.”

Against his hopes that that would at least put a tiny grin back on your face and feeling extra defiant, you just crossed your arms and continued to sulk, not even saying goodbye to him as he headed out the bedroom door, calling back to you as he took those long, even strides down the hallway towards the main staircase that he loved you and would be back soon.

So what else were you to do, left to your own devices, than to seek petty revenge by breaking one of his rules?

Only, he had never been meant to find out.

You’d intended to make up for your behavior that morning by putting on a big smile and throwing your arms around him by the time he returned home later that afternoon, amending the fact you hadn’t told him you loved him back and accepting the gift he was bringing home for you graciously.

But now, as the shiny little shopping bag that carried Undertaker’s apology present for abandoning you today hung limply from the tips of his pale fingers, he stood before the carnage of his prized teacup— one of its kind, crafted by a friend long passed— and felt his blood seethe with red hot rage, his brilliant chartreuse eyes wide under the deep scowl of sparse, silvery brows while his jaw worked with the harsh grinding of his back teeth.

The moment you heard his low, stern voice echo out, summoning you by name, you flinched from your hiding place, knowing you were in so much trouble.

And he hadn’t screamed your name, had merely just stated it loud enough for his voice to carry it to wherever you thought you could escape him. That’s how you knew he was truly, utterly pissed.

His rage was a quiet, sure thing, knowing it didn’t have to make a show with cracking shrieks or the heavy stomping of feet up the stairs.

Just like hunting an enemy, Undertaker was hunting you, giving you no indication of how close he was until the last minute, until it would be far too late for you to run any further or seek out a better hiding place.

You pushed yourself to the back of the guest room wardrobe, all of the big fur coats that were being stored there for the summer suffocating you as you clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to breathe, as if he would be able to hear you from your fear alone.

“Sweetheart…!” you heard him call out, closer this time, lurking on the second floor where you both knew it was only a matter of time until he found you. “Come out now and your punishment will be less severe…”

It wasn’t a bargain. It was just a fact. If you weren’t so paralyzed with terror, you might’ve just given in and listened. But you didn’t want to face what was waiting for you, so you remained huddled in the back of the wardrobe behind the curtains of fox and chinchilla and mink.

“Last chance—!” he barked, starting to lose his patience. He was even closer. You felt tears well in your eyes when you heard the guest room door creak open, the flick of a light switch. Only a matter of time now.

“I’m not going to say it again…” His voice was quieter now, the slow, even tapping of his familiar footsteps crawling towards the closet where you curled in on yourself.

He knew he had you. You knew he had you. It was down to seconds now, each step drenching you in a new wave of terror.

Then he sighed and said, “I really wish you would’ve made this easier on both of us, doll,” before swinging the wardrobe doors open and reaching inside, his big, strong hands finding you between the bulky furs and gripping hard as you yelped and scrambled to push yourself further back into the furniture, as if there was anywhere left to go.

Once he had you, he yanked you out and, ignoring your kicking and screaming and frantic sputtering of apologies, tossed you down on the plush guest bed, pinning you on your stomach with his hips as he slowly, almost sinisterly, undid his belt, the silver buckle clacking against itself in warning of what you were about to be put through.

“Please, Daddy! Please—!” you begged, crying harder and feeling your entire body tense under his hold as he hiked your skirt up, shivering when he ran a cold, slender palm over the swell of your ass. “It was an accident! I swear!”

“An accident, huh?” He muttered mockingly, killing you with the anticipation. “I find that hard to believe, given that you would’ve had to have gone out of your way to even reach that cup. So tell me…” His lips were right beside your ear now, his weight bearing down on you as he leaned in close to rhetorically ask, “did a ghost drink tea out of that cup and then smash it? Or are you lying to Daddy, hm?”

All you could manage were more garbled babbles of, “‘M sorry, Daddy! So, so sorry! Please—!”

The snap of the leather belt in his hands made you wince and gasp, shutting you up for the time being. “Don’t worry…” Undertaker cooed condescendingly, pinning you down with a little more pressure. “I’ll forgive you. But only after you’ve made up for being such a disobedient little brat.”

And he would even still let you have the gift he’d brought home for you after all was said and done too, but first, retribution had to be paid in full.

And how ironic, Undertaker thought as he prepared to issue the first lash…

What he’d brought you home had been a teacup you’d pointed out to him just a few weeks ago, its watercolor stroke design that of vibrant purples and greens and blues.

Just like the bruises you’d soon be covered in.

He smirked to himself, gently rubbing the blossoming welts on your tender skin once he’d decided you’d made up for your defiance.

Life imitates art.

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send me a number from this prompt list + one of the characters i write for and i’ll write a short lil something for you 💕