#only on rare occasion for fun. but please don’t ONLY use she/her for me if you use that please switch it up from time to time!��

[cats-in-the-clouds]

it’s all been said before but the whole pronouns thing for some people is getting so ridiculous it’s honestly just sad

[itgetzweird08]

one two three four

katsuki bakugo x Gn!reader

One week later

T-Minus three weeks until the dance

—------------

 “Good Morning!” 

For so early in the morning, the rat principal was very cheerful. The same couldn’t be said for his human climbing tree. Mr. Aizawa stood slouched, eyes dark and face heavy with lack of sleep. Nezu sat snuggly in the binding cloths on the tired man’s shoulder. Mitsuki had only spoken to the principal on a handful of occasions, and she always thought he was very…unique. But he was damn good at his job, and he really cared about his students. That's why Mitsuki had such a good feeling about the request she was about to make, despite it being such a large one. 

“‘Morning. Thanks for meeting with me, I know your schedules are probably packed with everything going on around here.”

Nezu smiled cheerfully at the woman, waving a paw in dismissal. “Nonsense! I’m always happy to meet with a parent, especially you, Mrs. Bakugo. Young Bakugo is an amazing student and has done a lot for the country. We owe him a lot. Now, let’s get into the conference room. From the summary of your reason for meeting that you gave me, I figured it would be best that the rest of the faculty joined us as well.”

The three walked into the conference room, with Mitsuki taking a seat at the head of the table. Around the table sat the UA teachers, Hounddog, and Hawks. While initially shocked by his presence, she realized that it made sense. In her email to Nezu, she mentioned that the subject of the meeting had to do with bending an international rule, and Hawks had a lot of contact with other countries as the new head of the Hero Commission.  She was grateful he was here, as she knew he had a particular soft spot for Katsuki. If she remembered correctly, he called him “A little asshole with a lot of spunk”. She thought it was a fair statement.

After exchanging greetings and pleasantries, and accepting a cup of tea from Present Mic, she began the meeting.

“Thank you all for being here. I recognize that you all are busy so I’m gonna try and make this quick,” Mitsuki sat up straighter, folding her hands together as she looked around the table. “A couple of years ago, Katsuki met another hero student at the I-Expo. They stayed in contact for a while, got really close, and eventually started dating. They care for each other, a lot. They talk every night and are a huge pillar of support for one another. So much so that,” 

Mitsuki found herself getting choked up. She always did when she thought about the possibility that she would have to deliver that letter to you. She cleared her throat, taking a breath. She hated crying, especially in front of people. After a moment, she continued.

“Right before the war, Katsuki gave me a box to send them in case something happened to him. He truly cares about them. On that note, as you all know, the Spring Dance is coming up. Despite what most people think, Katsuki actually enjoys dressing up. I thought he would be excited about the dance, but he wasn’t. In fact, he’s dreading it. All his friends have been talking about are their dates, and Katsuki refuses to take anyone but them. Now, for my request. Katsuki died for this country. This is his last chance for some fun before graduating and becoming a real pro. So please,” she bowed deeply as she spoke. Mitsuki had a lot of pride and was known for rarely ever apologizing or bowing to anyone. But Katsuki deserved to be happy. She just wanted her kid to be okay.

“Please allow them to attend as Katsuki’s date. I can give you records, letters of recommendation, and even character statements. They are a great kid and an even better student. They would cause no trouble. I just want Katsuki to be happy.”

The room was silent as all of the staff looked at Mitsuki. They then looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. Finally, Hawks broke the silence. “To be honest with you, Mrs. Bakugo, this is a complicated situation. Other countries still don’t have a particularly great view of Japan. Trying to convince them that they should allow a pardon, just for a school dance? Realistically, it’s damn near impossible,” Mitsuki felt her heart sink, a disappointed sigh leaving her. Well, at least no one could say she didn’t tr- 

“However, you make a very compelling point. Young Bakugo saved not only Japan but the rest of the world. He is, without a doubt, a hero. I make you no promises on what the rest of the commission or international board might say, but I can promise that I will advocate for Bakugou and get you an answer before the end of the week.” 

Mitsuki broke out into a rare, wide, sincere grin. She bowed once more to the room, bending deeply.

“Thank you all.”

————

It was about 15 minutes before your usual morning talk with Katsuki when you got the call. Before the war, Katsuki gave you his parents' contact info in case of an emergency. You had only spoken to them on a handful of occasions, wishing them a happy birthday or anniversary, shouting ‘Hello!’ when you were on the phone and Katsuki was at home. But you had never really spoken to them one-on-one until Mitsuki called you.

You answered without hesitation, disregarding your normal early morning TikTok scroll. Something had to be wrong for her to call you, you figured. Your voice was frantic when you answered. “Hello? Is everything alright Mrs. Bakugou? Is Katsu-“

“Chillax kid! Jeez!” 

You blinked, confused at her tone. Okay, so clearly there wasn’t an emergency. 

“I’m sorry, I thought something was wrong. You’ve never called before-“ 

“Sorry, I should make more of a habit of calling my future daughter in law” 

You chose to ignore her comment. “So..if there’s no emergency, not to be rude, why are you calling?” You could picture her shit-eating grin in your head, knowing it was where Katsuki had gotten it from. 

“Well…I spoke to Hawks, you know the head of the hero commission here in Japan, he spoke with your government and pulled some strings…how would you like to be Katsuki’s date to the Spring dance?”

————

I’m having trouble tagging some of yall 😔. Anyways sorry this is so late, uni has been beating me into the floor 😭

Taglist: : @sleepyeri @teeesthings @zaiban2989 @kathsuhki @rinbeeyum @oladelmars @luv-for-fictional-characters @attackonnat @ratcity12345 @bffrs-stuff @ch3rryjampi3 @venus1224idkpleaze @fiannee @consentismfhot @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @bl-og134 @amayaaaxx @mikestuffffs @mushroomsoup119 @thatprettybunny @wheezdostuff @devils-adversary @enony-da @matchat3a @kawliflo @urmomsbananabread @anicaaa67 @that-sweet-mars @crimsonrubie @xanneeeyyyy @sweetloveandaffection-blog @ghostreadersthings @itsdragonius @snore-3 @sleepyk0dyz @ririoutspoken @ivuriexo @getosuckers

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello there! 👋🏽 If you don’t mind, I was wondering if I could make a request with Tech? With maybe a bookworm reader if that’s okay? I feel like it would be a cute dynamic! Thank you and have a good day! 🙏🙌

Bookworm

Tech x Reader

Summary- You and Tech have a moment alone on The Marauder. What better way to spend it than reading! Accompanied by Tech on his datapad, of course.

A/N- It's totally okay!!! I figured the best format for this kind of request was bullet point- but I am not very good at those. So, i compromised with this! Hope you enjoy, thanks for requesting!

Word Count- 990

Hunter, Omega, Wrecker, and Echo had all left the ship to go look for some dinner. A job you all completed recently left you with some spending money. You figured everyone deserved a real meal for once.

It left you and Tech alone in The Marauder. You could have easily went to hang out at Cid's bar, but you couldn't stand to be around her. You hated the way she poked fun at Tech's goggles.

Only you were allowed to call him 'goggles.'

The thought only temporarily distracted you from your book. You quickly resumed reading, only to realize you had to restart the whole page. This time actually process what you're reading! You thought to yourself.

Grumbling, you squeezed your eyes shut and straightened up in your seat. You happened to take a spot in the co-pilots chair. Tech always sat in the pilots.

"Something the matter?" Tech asks, not looking up from his datapad.

It was sweet, that he noticed your small movements. "Just trying to focus, I lost my place." You finally found a comfortable position, situating your book back in your hands.

"It can help to fidget with one hand, to increase your chances of focus." He informed, per usual.

You smiled up at him, he glanced up from the pad when he felt your gaze on him. He flashed a very brief smile- more of a grin, it was all you needed though.

You listened to him rant about his findings on 'focus' for a few minutes, knowing anyone else would have shut him up by now. Him talking never bored you or made you uncomfortable, despite many others complaining.

"Thank you, Tech." You simply said, returning to your book. He seemed pleased enough and went back to tinkering on his datapad.

A newfound silence came over, you read your book in peace. The story of the thieves with powers fighting the government amused you. What amused you more was the fact you had personally been on more dangerous missions, yet the book still captured you.

It was nice to imagine yourself in their place, even when you wouldn't change what you have for the word.

You'd go on a million death defying missions if it meant you were with Tech.

While you typically could put down over 50 pages in an hour, Tech interrupted you again. Not with any other intentions than to please you.

"Yes?" You responded after he called your name.

He reached in a compartment to the left of the console. A place Tech used to store his latest experiments.

He pulled out a neatly wrapped gift. It had swirls of color on the paper that wrapped it. He said nothing, just handed the rectangular item to you.

"For me?"

"That would be correct."

You tried to fight the corners of your mouth rising, but it was no use. Tech watched you violently, showing little expression.

You gently took the paper off, not wanting to make a mess of his careful work.

You slowly revealed it to be a new book, the fourth book in the series to the one you were just reading.

"Tech, I- I thought it was a limited edition! There was only a hundred made across the galaxy!" You looked in his deep brown eyes.

"Yes, it is." He confirmed.

"H-how did you get it!" You were baffled, the thought he put into your gift- and for no special occasion.

"It was not difficult. I was able to track all the shipping numbers to their respective planets, and when we had a mission on one- I located the book through its buyers." He said, nonchalantly. Like he didn't easily buy one of the most rare books you knew of.

"Why? Did I miss an anniversary?" You were slightly confused on why he gave you the gift. You hoped you weren't supposed to also have a gift prepared.

"Uh, no. You mentioned exactly 129 rotations ago that you wanted the book. I saw no problem in getting it." He remembered...

You were moved to small tears, now flowing down your cheeks.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes, Tech. Of course I am." You rose to your feet, throwing yourself on him in a big hug. He hugged you back. While he didn't completely understand your acclimation to physical affection- he didn't mind you doing as you pleased to him.

He gently patted your back, and you pulled away. "Thank you, i'm going to have to finish this book quickly now. I can't wait to read it..."

"You are welcome." He responded, you let him be and lifted yourself off of him. He grabbed his datapad and clicked away.

What you didn't know was that sometimes Tech would watch you read. In times like these, when you found yourself sitting or laying next to each other. You reading, him on his datapad.

He would study your face, taking in every expression. He would think about what you were reading- was it sad, happy, thrilling? Feelings were a trivial matter to him, but he was always thinking of ways to make you happy.

He loved it when you read, sometimes out loud to him. It was soothing to hear your voice when he worked on a project or was fixing a part on The Marauder.

The way you tapped your foot, or bounced your leg when you got to a complex part in a book. Or, when you were both laying down together and accidentally hit Tech in shock at a twist in the story. He loved every bit of it.

You turned back to your original book, now more determined than ever to finish it.

You did, however, catch Tech staring this time. You met his gaze, a wide smirk on your face. You couldn't help but giggle briefly. He gave you an odd look, but went back to his datapad. Just as you went back to your book.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! Requests are about to be open, just one more to fulfill! As always, I am open to constructive criticism.

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[shy-taylorsversion]

Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.

Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(

A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)

March 2010

  Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping. 

She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.  

           “Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”  

The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often. 

           “Depends, who is this?”  

    The response was almost immediate. 

          “Don’t do me like that, Y/n”

 She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush. 

          “I’m at a bar, what do you want?” 

         “Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.” 

In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.   

They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood. 

   They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone. 

     Her phone buzzed in her hand again. 

       “I miss you.” 

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address. 

Present, April 2011

  “What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.” 

  Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow. 

  Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months. 

It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days. 

 “He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”  

   “Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“ 

 “Bye, Sam.” 

  The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road. 

   It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid. 

 Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was. 

   She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out. 

    That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.  

 The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.  

     “C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.” 

A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it. 

   She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult. 

  A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.

    She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.  

    God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point. 

   “You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”

       He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy. 

    She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.  

  She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive. 

  He’d left like an assassin. 

   Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged. 

     In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect. 

 “I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.” 

The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby. 

  She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half. 

   She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal. 

     Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms. 

   Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.  

   “I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.” 

   Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling. 

     “I’m so glad you’re back.” 

   “Yeah, me too.” 

A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes. 

  The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again. 

Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.   

    “Let’s get started?” 

March 2010 

“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.

   She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front.  Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second. 

 Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.

   “C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.” 

Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door. 

     “Sorry, Sammy.”  Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.” 

Present, April 2011

   Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n’s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.  

According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help. 

   Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then. 

   She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet. 

Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him. 

  Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.

    A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun. 

      The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night. 

       She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor. 

        Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her. 

   She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground. 

     She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.

She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor. 

   Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place. 

“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?” 

“Yeah, You?” 

She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him. 

    “I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.  

   Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side. 

  Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop. 

    “What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled. 

“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps. 

“I am fine.”  She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.  

    The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished. 

He was here, touching her, after so long. 

  Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting. 

 This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.

  She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs. 

   The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark. 

  They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them. 

 Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.  

 They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.  

   They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.  

     None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her. 

  Now they knew she was there.

 Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one. 

   Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact. 

    She swung. 

The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up. 

Its head hit the floor. 

She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire. 

   The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.  

Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment. 

“Time for drinks?” 

Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready. 

   She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do.  She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less. 

“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”  

  Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms. 

She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong. 

   “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.”  She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him. 

    She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut. 

“Y/n, look at me.”  

She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.  

 Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft.  She knew where this was going. 

  Dean took a deep breath before starting.  

“Look, what I did-” 

“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat. 

“I just-”

“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.” 

 Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed. 

  “Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.” 

Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest.  He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished. 

   “Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much. 

     His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears. 

    “Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?” 

      “Y/n.” 

She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.  

  “You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face. 

   “Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.” 

His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away. 

   “It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.” 

She let out a bitter laugh. 

 She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go. 

  She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion. 

    “Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.  

He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. 

   “For what it's worth, I am sorry.” 

The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink. 

  She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead. 

She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean. 

   She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.

  A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.  

   The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night. 

 “I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it?  Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him. 

 “It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.”  She smiled at him.

 “You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind. 

 The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.    

  Y/n didn’t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one. 

 And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.

  She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.

But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it. 

   She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

the counterpart

• chapter 1 — a welcome threatening stir

rating: explicit. please don’t skip straight to (future) smut parts though, i’m currently learning chess just for this fic /hj

word count: 4,5k

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of ‘y/n’)

cw: alcohol, occasional cussing, reader is a smoker (she plays chess and lives in the 90s, how do you expect her to have healthy lungs in these conditions?). a LOT of tension, viktor is a certified brat tamer. i think that’s it — please come yell at me if i missed anything. basically just a silly little chess rivals (sort of) au.

i am finally writing this multichapter and i hope it will be a fun read for you and an excellent torture for me. i have a vision but i don’t know how to make shit perfectly executed. we’ll see how this goes. an ao3 link will be added later. any feedback is highly appreciated.

part 2

⸻

You weren’t obsessed with him. 

Nor with the way his tongue would click against his teeth so astutely irritating — a gesture you grew to define as some brief foreplay before said appendage touched his palate precisely one torturous time, whispering a victorious ‘check’. Nor with the crease dissecting his forehead — a rare occasion you managed to grasp only twice: the first time being your failed attempt to capture his queen, and the second — a recent one, at that — being the foolish way you’ve lost a freshly promoted rook: concurrently the most humiliating way to jeopardize an intellectual sparring.

You weren’t obsessed with his bizarre contemplative humming, nor with his Czech last name — needless to mention the disheveled mayhem of dark hair: Viktor was just a mere enigma you fancied to occasionally demerge — sneakily, patiently, with a positive passion to it. Habitually in a private ambiance of either his or your dorm room, though actually more commonly his — something about it simply screamed peace, as contradictory as that sounds. Sweetly quiet, relatively neat, with a never properly made bed being the only truly concerning mess in it.

That apartment was the embodiment of a grandmaster’s mind, and it certainly had all the chances of belonging to one at some point: if only he kept up with the meticulous tactics you were (secretly) so jealous of. 

“Envy is a waste of time,” he unkindly reminded you one particularly languid evening, “you should pursue ways to expand your knowledge — not to contract them with such trivialities.” 

That reproach got into your ambitious head. Call it a reality check or a simple first impression — since that encounter was also the first one you two had ever shared.

Though could someone really blame you? You didn’t need humbling. Well, not any more of that crude one, at the very least — a local college chess club had more than enough of it to offer. You could consume their disdain for weeks and it still wouldn’t make them run out of it — they had plenty in stock specifically for women. That much was obvious the second you appeared before those arrogant, prejudiced fools. You stepped in there innocently hoping to enroll, but stormed off with a genuine intention to commit homicide — a manslaughter, to be precise, and god weren’t you going to be merciful. 

‘You can’t enroll without a rating,’ hissed that bespectacled, caricaturely tall boy — all heavily starched collar, stupid chequered tie and a handful of dirty blonde hair plastered across his forehead. 

Bullshit, you thought, gathering every last ounce of your forced politeness, who needs a rating to enroll into a college fucking chess club? 

‘We don’t accept amateurs,’ assented his not any less grimy interlocutor, his expression a tad bit more bearable. ‘Please, leave,’ he demanded, lancing your face with his hostile eyes. 

Well, it’s a good thing you accept ill-mannered bastards, you almost muttered, fists clenching hard into a white-knuckled disaster. 

And perhaps you were even willing to negotiate, to have their best players all lined up in front of you — each waiting for a turn to be relentlessly put in his place by you; and you would certainly show them — quick, efficient and dangerous. You would force them into submission — professionally so, in a way that would make them all wonder whether the next Judit Poglar has decided to bless them with her presence. 

Because, sure; you were certainly many things — an excellent mind, a trickster, a fanatic, but that list never included an amateur. The mere fact someone even dared to insult you in such a way — and without even sparing you one game of chess — was, frankly, deeply humiliating. 

So you decided to let your pride win. Walked out of that damned club with an ostentatious huff, heels clacking loud enough to muffle their demeaningly misogynistic brouhaha — a tacit protest, an addendum to your passive-aggressive ‘good luck, gentlemen’. 

They didn’t want you — fine, whatever, you didn’t want them either. You’ll find yourself a counterpart soon — not any less intelligent, and, most importantly, respectful. They’ll come crawling back to you once you gain a rating, mourning their loss and pathetically begging for sweet mercy. You could already imagine the holes rubbed through the nice fabric of their dress pants from all the kneeling you’ll make them do. 

Besides, Jayce had already promised to introduce you to someone decent. ‘He’s sweet,’ he assured you, a friendly arm wrapped around your tense shoulder. ‘Incredibly smart,’ he proceeded with his wholehearted praise, proud grin so wide the corners of his mouth were definitely hurting. ‘Somewhat awkward,’ he mused, raising one eyebrow in consideration, ‘though I’m not entirely sure it’s awkwardness, per se, Viktor is simply… pensive.’

Viktor. Your eyes squeezed shut, offering the restless imagination a brief opportunity to brainstorm. A competent, pensive and sweet chess lover: what would his temper turn out to be like? Does he have a rating yet? What if he’s already playing professionally? Perhaps he even has a title? 

Jayce’s next comment didn’t offer you much help though. 

‘He’s handsome too,’ he whispered, a shit-eating smirk wiped instantly off his pleased physiognomy. Elbows become offensive weapons between the ribs of unfortunate matchmakers, you see. 

Either way: the deal was sealed. You were going to meet Viktor the next chance you get, and Jayce’s upcoming birthday has provided you with precisely that convenience. 

It still happened rather spontaneously — you can’t mentally prepare yourself for an encounter you don’t quite know what to expect of. Sure, Jayce’s complaisant flattery was still at your service — a source not exactly reliable, yet somewhat welcomed nonetheless: though only because you lacked any other information about this Viktor persona.

But you decided not to upset a dear friend on his birthday. Acting like Jayce was bearable to be around was a part of your gift, after all. 

Unfortunately, the fact he was born on an awfully steamy July day wasn’t helping you accomplish that; you squinted, drowning a glass of that disgustingly warm bourbon, a couple of melted ice cubes in it slightly diluting the once-rich taste of liquor. The man of the hour had quickly dissolved into a mess of infuriatingly noisy people after only reserving you a quick hello, shiny eyes already evidently tipsy — either from all the attention or the contentious quality of the booze this bar had to offer. 

You didn’t dare to complain. The tab was on a birthday boy, and you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Knew better, yet still stared right at Jayce’s laughing physiognomy, grin so blindingly toothy it had you regretting ever sojourning this feast of life. Not that you had anything against attending birthday celebrations; but a cramped bar, a cheap drink and not a single minute spent with a man you came here for weren’t exactly your ideal perception of said… festivity. Not to mention that Viktor was terribly late — though your darling mutual acquaintance was in no state to properly introduce you to him anyway. You slipped out of your bar stool, rubbing an erratic little pattern into the weary skin of each heavy eyelid — but the sleepiness didn’t magically dissolve under the persistent pressure of your fingers. If there existed a thing you hated more than cocky men and bad booze — then it certainly had to be feeling hot, and this awful place has kindly reminded you of precisely that long forgotten loathing; air so sticky it was melting your brain into a tired, dysfunctional mush. 

Somehow you managed to find an exit before the headache became borderline unbearable, letting the evening greet you with a chilly slap on precisely that slick place where a damp blouse kept clinging onto your sweaty back. Summer sure was relentless this year — the outdoors didn’t offer you much of that crispy gentle breeze, but it was still not nearly as suffocatingly hot as inside that grimy shelter for drunks. 

Shaky hands slid inside the pocket of your pants, fumbling frantically with the contents of it: glistening candy wrappers, ringing keys and a handful of coins. Took you long enough to finally feel the shape of an old lighter, the spark wheel of it so terribly rusty the callus on your thumb started stinging as soon as you laid it on that rough little bump. 

With a sigh, you fetched a folded pack of Camel out of the same stuffed sack, the state of said poor thing utterly matching its owner’s — all ruffled, messy, with the bottom of it barely still intact. Well, fine, perhaps that last trait was not precisely pertinent to you, but your rear was hurting quite palpably after an hour spent sitting on that awfully uncomfortable stool — which meant that relating to your poor box of cancer sticks was inevitable. 

The spark wheel gave in after a few insistent pushes, and within seconds you were taking your first greedy drag, back pressed tightly against the cool wall; providing you much needed support for taming a headache with a smoke break that would undoubtedly cause a new one in an instant. The filth filled your lungs with sweet relief, and you let the sedation run slowly through your veins, squeezing the filter in an affectionate little embrace of trembling index and middle fingers. 

And then your private moment was ruined. But not abruptly in the slightest, with just one simple call of your name – the most careful of all interventions, surprisingly quizzical and polite, heavily accented at the edge of the very last syllable. Still had you choking ungracefully on your tiny nicotine snack, filling the silence with awfully inelegant coughing. 

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” spoke your pensive intruder, causing you to sharply turn around, back clinging off the wall in one unsubtle movement. 

That’s how all meaningful formal meetings happen. Unfailingly when you least expect them, or, even worse — when you stop expecting them at all, with every thought banished from your utterly relaxed mind. They sneak up on you under shitty bars, giving you a slight vertigo and then offering a polite smile to make amends, gripping the handles of their canes with pent up awkwardness. And god were they peculiar intrusions — matching your silly, much too improper manner to wear corporate clothes for a night out, with just a few buttons of their tight vest undone; limbs lanky, but not inept, eyes brimming with pretty copper right onto your astonished frame. Made you randomly embarrassed about your chipped nail polish and messy hair with just a mere presence of their flawlessness: you knew you were facing a tease before you even managed to acknowledge his appearance, brow raising curiously in a cautious attempt of a greeting.

“Well, you did startle me,” was the first thing to leave your mouth after the coughing assault had ended, lips stretching lazily into an involuntary grin. “How do you know my name?” 

His eyes — oh those big shiny tormentors — widened in surprise, and one sinewy hand crawled somewhat haphazardly up his chest, fingers catching the knot of a red tie to pull on it firmly. To either adjust it or to make the clearing of a tender throat easier — you couldn’t quite place it, yet still watched him in silent astonishment, tasting the bitterish taste of tobacco on the tip of your tongue. 

“Well,” he parroted your tone with sharp accuracy and proceeded with distinguished sass, “I believe a certain someone has introduced us to each other… in absentia, so to speak.” 

Oh. So that was your new charming counterpart? Bravo, Jayce — there was actually something truthful about your flattering for the first time. 

“For I am Viktor, in case you’re still confused,” he obligingly reminded, abandoning the brief fidgeting with his tie to offer you a handshake.  

You gulped, almost extending a dominant arm to accept it, but some weird foreboding had once convinced you that to twine your still smelling of cigarettes fingers with a stranger would be somehow perceived as crude — and so you clumsily caught his palm with your other, less nimble limb. Let the heat of his touch engrave into your hand, eyes swirling the tiny mole above that defined cupid’s bow, making you feel stupid for stealing that innocent of a peek. Had you forgetting about the still stuffed into your mouth cigarette as it fell open in oblivious awe, almost dropping a decent bridge of ashes onto his pretty shoes.

Regaining the lost composure, you managed to introduce yourself in a manner similar to his — not that it was necessary since he seemed to remember what to call you exactly, but the gesture still felt right — you’d vowed to treat people with politeness and liked to think that it was going quite well for you. 

“So,” he uttered somewhat approbatory, withdrawing his hand from your tender clasp, “normally I don’t… tutor. But Jayce was rather insistent I try — and he’d also assured me that you’re quite passionate about the subject.” 

You huffed, letting out an undefinable sound of confusion. Not without a mixture of evident irritation to it, if you were to be frank — but that was entirely justified. A tutor? Is that how Jayce really took it? 

“I’m not looking for a tutor,” you sassed matter-of-factly, angrily inhaling from your cigarette. “I’m looking for a counterpart. What makes you think that you’re competent enough to teach me anything at all?” you inquired with candid hostility, watching him go limp in silent panic. 

You’d vowed to treat people with politeness and didn’t care if it wasn’t going well for you anymore. Quite a drastic change of plans, to be frank.

“Oh, I am not claiming that,” Viktor rushed to object, and the way a few strands of hair started shaking treacherously as he wagged his head had almost caused you to crack a pretentious smirk. But he quickly soothed the unkempt curl and proceeded with his explanation, “I was simply told you might need some help. Why the unnecessary attitude?” 

“Because you were told wrong,” you practically spat the smoke into his face, lips smacking together with an audible pop. It made his textured nose wrinkle with a fed up sigh, entertaining you with an ungainly attempt of waving that livid cloud away. 

“And that’s my fault… how, exactly?” he mumbled with an utterly puzzled glare, and you scoffed in silent rejoicement, leaning slightly closer to divert yourself with more of his emotiveness. 

“You should have paid more attention to what Jayce told you,” you jumped over his rhetorical question paying it no mind whatsoever. Though, as you were reminiscing on the events of this exact conversation — your own audacity made you wonder how Viktor managed to refrain from slapping you across the face that very instant. The shitty booze must have turned out not so shitty after all — it sure gave you the nerve, and you were holding onto it a tad bit too tightly. 

But your new companion didn’t take that well. His thick eyebrow protruded into a furious arc, lids twitching slightly at the outburst you were so pathetically proud about. Both hands returned to the handle of his cane, as if getting ready to transform it into a weapon — and he leaned his whole body weight on it with a displeased gasp, accented voice obtaining a lower, more threatening edge to it. 

He’s sweet, you scoffed, ready to press your forehead against his like an uncivilized animal. It’s not like you were acting much better than that anyway. 

Well, at least Jayce didn’t lie about the handsome part. 

“I’ll have you know that I was, indeed, paying attention,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “and if you wish to quibble over the words that do not even belong to me — then fine: be my absolute guest, but do not except me to align with your enthusiasm and partake in useless insults.” 

He cleared his throat again, evidently reluctant to indulge in whatever spectacle you were so clearly asking for. That man didn’t deserve your resentment, but now you certainly deserved his, and so you backed off, fingers twitching haphazardly as they curdled around your cigarette for one last awkward drag, lashes fluttering with palpable nervousness. 

“I was told you needed a tutor — and I sincerely apologize if your request was miscomprehended,” Viktor sighed, and you blinked at him in baffled reverence. Wishing oh so desperately to burn your  always looking for trouble tongue with that still somewhat smoldering tobacco stick. 

“No, I…” you gasped in response, but Viktor held a soothing hand up, stopping you from puking out more of that guilty incoherent nonsense. 

“Please, allow me to finish,” he demanded, and you obeyed — a mere culpable inch away from accidentally swallowing the filter still filling your mouth with a sharp savour of smoke. 

And your submission was appreciated right away. 

“So, as I was saying,” Viktor returned to his lecture with a distinguished cough, “I’m sorry if your request was miscomprehended. But it certainly wasn’t miscomprehended by me, which makes your reaction somewhat… unfair, don’t you think?” 

“Yes,” you yielded, nodding in weak agreement. “Yes, totally unfair.” 

“To say the least,” he was quick to add, emphasizing the last word especially heavy.  

“To say the least,” you parroted in response — just like a tamed misbehaving brat. And that’s precisely what you were — humbled, put in your place and sorry. You were sorry, and it made you quiver as you timidly chewed on the inside of an already half-eaten cheek, frantically counting the numerous scratches on your shoes. Doing anything to escape the gentle orbs undressing you off your very flesh in an attempt to find something even you doubted was still there: some prudence. 

“So, with that being said,” Viktor summarized, and you heard a resonant click of his cane against the concrete, “I suggest you take out your anger on someone who’s responsible for the incorrect wording.” 

You dared to abandon your defeated position, head tilting slightly upwards to witness his departure — just as languid as this completely disastrous evening; no offense to Jayce and his special day, of course. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he smiled, politely nodding at the establishment before you two, “I still ought to wish that someone a happy birthday.” 

So that’s how you lose both a battle and a war. He’d just taught you a valuable lesson — and here you were, so appalled to the idea of being tutored. Oh how the tables have turned. 

You reached out a hand for him, preliminarily putting out that damned cigarette to the sole of your messy shoe in a chaotic rush. Grazed his shoulder with a fleeting touch — so cowardly unsure if you were even allowed to pamper such luxury in these conditions. But he showed you some mercy — allowed it to linger there, slightly dipped into the curvature of his clavicle, awaiting your next move with a didactic frown. 

A look of a man who’d put you in a checkmate before even pulling out a chess board. 

“Viktor, I’m sorry,” you muttered with the most sincere remorseful look your face could even master, “I’m terribly sorry, actually. I shouldn’t have—“ but he interrupted you, eyes drifting playfully to the hand still invading his precious privacy. 

“Oh, shit,” you cussed under your breath, hastily pulling it back as if it was leprotic, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Please, continue,” he insisted softly. Gave you a few seconds to finish crumbling into stupid tipsy pieces and stepped back, all of his attention centered precisely on your earnest apology. 

Oh, nevermind, someone please scratch the ‘showed you some mercy’ part.  

“I was rude,” you confessed (as if it wasn’t obvious enough already). “Unacceptably so. I’m not exactly… good with social cues — but it’s no excuse, I should never have said that. Especially within the first five minutes of meeting you,” the words were flowing out of your mouth so naturally — surprisingly smooth for someone who’d normally take three to five business days to come up with a proper atonement (or even consider the necessity of one whatsoever). 

“Do you think I could somehow… make it up to you?” you hit him with your most pitiable arrow, the one you were saving up for special occasions when you really did mean to somehow atone for all the damage, eyes two pretty things seeking his forgiveness with a sporadic, perplexed blink. But they saw none — he’d frowned, hummed in consideration, and then tormented you with silence for just a few more everlasting seconds, making you sink your lips softly into the edge of your nail and scrape some polish off of it. Squinting instantly at the awful, chemical taste — and Viktor finally gave up. 

You’d realized it was your first time hearing him laugh much later. It was, indeed, a thing to remember — all raspy, strangely domestic, not malicious or willing to destroy you any further. And yes — technically, he was laughing at you, but if that’s what you’d get every time this man filled the air with that soft laughter — then you may as well become a circus employee just to figure out how to make him emit more of it.

“All is forgiven,” he assured you, shaking his head, “the second you made that face, actually. But no more of that, please. If that’s how you plead — then I’m afraid I might someday forgive you something utterly unacceptable.” 

He’s sweet, you sighed, an unsure smile returning plastered across your face once again. 

Perhaps you should start listening to Jayce more often. 

“But back to your request,” Viktor was quick not to let you turn into a puddle on that still scorched by the sun ground, “a counterpart — is that what you need? Why not join a chess club, then?” 

His question didn’t mean any harm, and he obviously just asked it out of sheer curiosity — yet it still made you feel a tad bit demeaned. Not by him, of course, just by the fact those arrogant fucks still dared to coexist without you. 

Perhaps they would be willing to reconsider if they saw your behavior tonight? 

You sighed, shrugging off his query. “I tried to. They didn’t let me because I don’t have a rating.”

“Really? Well that’s just strange — since when does one need a rating for it?” his confusion was genuine, eyes widened drastically as if he’d just heard the biggest absurdity of his entire life. 

“That’s what I said,” you whined in a tone of a natural gossip-girl, almost ready to chain-smoke the entire rest of your pack now that you were reminded of your misery. 

“I see,” Viktor hummed, stroking a thumb over the line of his sharp chin in deep scrutiny, “hm, I’m certain I’ve never heard them demand a rating for enrollment before. A club is not a tournament, after all.” 

“Wait, are you a member of our chess club?” the realization quickly absorbed you, but Viktor didn’t quite catch on to your astonishment. 

“Yes,” he dryly confirmed, “yes, I am. Not that I spend much time there though — those gentlemen are simply… how do I put it politely? Mediocre. Incompetent. I don’t like careless opponents — what’s the point in playing them if you can picture how exactly you can win within seconds?” 

Within seconds. You froze in apparent disbelief, trying to figure out whether he’s bluffing or actually being serious, awaiting tensely on something — anything —  that might indicate a joke. But not a single muscle on his pale face twitched into a smile — he’d responded with a look as awfully inquisitive as yours, unsure of what exactly you expect him to do. 

So he does mean it. In that case, he’s either very full of himself — or these boys are, in fact, that hopeless in chess. And something kept telling you that it most likely was the ladder.

“I’m jealous then, I suppose,” you offered him a safe answer, toying thoughtlessly with your poor, rusty lighter. 

“Please don’t be,” he protested with a careful plea. “Envy is a waste of time. You should pursue ways to expand your knowledge — not to contract them with such trivialities.” 

Bold of him to assume you might envy his skills. Well, yes — you were definitely beaming with envy, but he didn’t need to know that just yet. 

You snorted, almost letting that toxic conceit take over whatever pieces of common sense Viktor had just punched back into you — and his words dwelled, slinking through your skull, filling you not with thirst for vengeance, but with inspiration. It gave you some time to form a decent comeback, so you used it wisely: by delivering precisely that kind of answer, eyes rolling playfully at his discreet lecture. 

“I don’t envy your tactics,” you informed him, gracefully holding your head up, “I envy the fact you have someone to show them to.” 

And that boy smiled again, forcing your light vertigo to return — but not out of tipsiness or so-called ‘arrogance poisoning’. 

“So do you,” he whispered, and watched you derail with the most victorious countenance known to a man. Reminding you nonchalantly that he doesn’t need a single chess piece to have you in a stalemate. 

That muggy bar might’ve offered you an experience of being trapped in a figurative, impossibly narrow coffin, but Viktor’s presence was the thing that truly made you feel like an actual cadaver — all empty thoughts, and stiffness, and skipped heartbeats. 

But Jayce forgot to mention that your new competitor was also deeply laconic. 

“Meet me in the library next… Friday, if you’re available?” he wasn’t generous enough to award you with any more seconds to recover from this exchange, impatiently expecting a confirmation. You could only manage a non-verbal one, nodding weakly at his offer. 

“Say… somewhere around noon?” he mused, and you instantly nodded again, waiting obligingly for his next suggestion. What a pleasure it is to do business with you! 

“Perfect,” he snatched the words out of your mouth, already half-turned to the bar entrance, “please bring a board, and I shall bring the clocks… Yes, the library should suffice — it’s not like a game of chess requires much conversation either way. Now, please do excuse me — I really need to steal Jayce away for a minute.” 

You watched him vanish into that devilish, so utterly unfitting for a man of his kind place; eyes nailed into his back as the crowd of feasting people swallowed your new interlocutor. Letting an excited little breath slip past your open mouth, escorting him with an uncoordinated wave of a shaky hand — a rather silly, excessive gesture since he wasn’t able to see it, and yet it still felt right — like a perfect little farewell to strengthen this newfound friendship with. 

That’s how you met your counterpart — or, perhaps, that’s what you used to see in him once. 

What you were still oblivious about — is that this man will conquer you in much more capacities than just the game that brought you two together.

⸻

tags (please let me know if you’d like to be added to them) : @zaunitearchives @blissfulip

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 7: Then Again

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: Everyone’s got regrets they might wish to go back and change, but then again, you would have never gotten here

Word Count: 3,304

Content/Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, SMUT, honest conversations, hiking, cuddling, soft intimate shower, oral sex (f receiving), p in v protected sex, lotsa kissing, praise and lowkey size kink, swears

Author’s Note: O. M. G. This is the first time I’ve written smut, so I wanted to make it super soft and loving like I feel really pairs for this couple. Nine months into the relationship, wowza. Talk about true love, somebody pls find me a bear of a man like this.

Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter. It’s my favorite on the entire album. It just kinda puts warmth and longing into my chest, so I hope the vibe matches what I’ve written.

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“Yes Mom, I promise I’ll be safe.” You looked into the camera of your phone as your mom looked right back at you.

“As long as you promise. I don’t want you eaten by a bear, but apparently you’ve got your own bear of a boyfriend to ward them off.” You laughed along with her own chuckle at that joke.

“Yes, Ari knows these woods well. I have no doubt he’s taking us on a good and safe route.” Your head turned away from the phone at a knock at the door.

“That’s probably him now.”

It was Sunday morning and Ari had asked you on a nice hike with him. The weather was set to be sunny, yet brisk, perfect for a rigorous walk through the mountains.

You opened the door and Ari greeted you with a kiss on the top of your head. “Morning, Duchess.”

He turned to see you were on the phone. “Oh, good morning Mrs.—“

“Ari, please. Call me mom. How many times do I have to tell you?” You both smiled and blushed at that as Ari went into your kitchen and dropped off his things. You sat on the couch, continuing your phone call.

“I knew there was something about that boy the first time I saw him. I’m so glad the two of you are so happy together. I can’t wait to come visit and officially meet him in person soon.” Ari had spoken to your mom on several occasions over FaceTime now, each time garnering more of her respect and adoration, which was rare for her. She always had sky high expectations, and you were her daughter after all, but she didn’t want you to have to face the same struggles she did, both career and romance-wise.

You rolled your eyes, thinking she wouldn’t catch it, but of course she did. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady. You know I’m right. I’ll let you go have fun on your date, though. I love you!”

You smiled back. “Love you, too, Mom.”

Once the call ended, you walked over to Ari, watching him bent over and looking through your fridge. You just couldn’t resist the urge to smack the plump, ripe piece of ass in joggers before you. Just as you were winding up, a large hand went and covered both cheeks.

“I know what you’re, thinking, Angel. You’re not gonna get me this time.” He rose from his hunched position, and towered over you, eyes glinting with mischief, pairing with the sly grin on his face. Before you knew it, Ari had scooped you up and plopped you back on the couch, peppering your face with kisses and tickling your sides. You were helpless, kicking your legs from under his body, doing your best to fight off the attack.

“Ari, quit it! I give, I give, you win!” You squealed through your giggle.

Ari’s hands and lips stopped their assault, but he didn’t pull away, instead, leaning in and putting a fat kiss on your lips. “Get on your hiking boots! We’ve gotta go before it gets hot.”

You nodded and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Help me tie them?”

Ari’s head drooped down as he sighed and grabbed your boots off the floor. He could never say no to that look. He kissed each shin as he slid the boots onto your feet. “Anything for you, Duchess.”

You helped by tying one of the shoes as Ari tied the other. He was just such an expert, having to do this everyday for however many years now. Looking at the single knot you had made on your right shoe, he untied it and pulled the laces tight, making his own double knot in its place.

“You’re so much better at that than me.” You huffed. He laughed back, kissing the wrinkle away from your forehead that showed up when you were frustrated.

“Nonsense. You’re great at it. I just like ‘em extra secure.” He grabbed your hand and helped to lift you off the couch, the two of you putting on your hiking backpacks and heading out the door, ready for the trail.

Your hike was filled with amazing views and sightings of so much wildlife. You truly loved seeing Ari in his element, as well. He constantly checked on you as he led you through the winding trails, pointing out his favorite spots and, of course, stopping for snacks and photo ops.

He could tell when the exhaustion was starting to creep in, but luckily by that point, the two of you were nearly home.

As you came back, Ari started on heating up the leftovers from dinner the night before. You went out to your back porch which overlooked the rolling landscape, rich with colors of green and rocky gray, mountains graced with snow caps when you looked up at the peaks surrounding you.

Ari came out carrying two warm plates of Thai food from the good place in town and you snuggled up on the couch of your patio furniture and ate together.

He grabbed your plates and set them aside, as the two of you chatted, the sun casting a warm glow over the landscape. Ari pulled you close so your back was against his chest, his strong arms tight around your waist. He wiggled to scoot until his back was up against the arm rest, finally placing his head on your shoulder as the two of you settled.

Ari kissed your neck, his beard lightly scratching the sensitive skin, as you sat there pensively. “Ari, do you ever wish you could go back and change things? Go back to a time that was simpler, where you didn’t know what it was like to live through so many hardships? Do it all differently?” You felt his chest heave with a sigh and he exhaled out of his nose, the warm air hitting your collar bone.

Ari let the question hang in the air for a moment, thinking over everything in his life while he formulated an answer. “If I could go back, I probably would’ve held onto my old Bronco. It used to be my grandpa’s, and it was getting old, so I traded it in for the truck. I probably would’ve visited him down in Atlanta a little more, too, before he passed.”

You nodded as he hummed, thinking of more things. “I probably would’ve stuck around for graduation, finished my degree so I could become rich.”

You giggled as his chest rumbled behind you. “I’d probably apologize to Savannah for wasting her time, would’ve hung out and vacationed with my childhood friends a little more….”

“Had a little more patience, or sent a few more prayers to heaven, but I don’t know if that all was really in the cards. If it were up to me, who knows where I’d be? I look back at all of that. The heartbreaks, the hard goodbyes, they led me here.”

You turned to look up at him, his gaze distant in thought before he looked down at you. “If it was all different, though, I wouldn’t be sitting here with my whole world in my arms, stealing kisses on a Sunday afternoon. Sure, there are a few things that I might’ve changed if God put me in charge, but then again, I would have never met you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes at his words. “Why? Is there anything you regret?”

You laughed and sniffled as you shook your head. “No. Not at all.” He used his thumb to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks.

“I feel really dumb right now. I was gonna say something stupid like buying bitcoin to be rich. Or like, maybe just not date at all until I found you. But you make a great point. I wouldn’t have come up here if it weren’t for all that. I think I love you too much to regret anything that led me here. Anything that I thought was a wrong turn definitely turned out right.”

He shook his head, laughing along with you, kissing away the rest of your tears. “Trust me, I love you more.”

The two of you sat there, basking in each other’s presence, before you began to become overly aware of the dried dirt and sweat that sat on your skin.

“I, um…. I think I’m gonna go take a shower. Get the outdoors off of me.” Ari nodded and helped you up off his lap, preparing to head home and do the same when you lingered before heading inside.

“Do you want to….join…me?” Ari sprung up out of his chair, head nodding vigorously. He grabbed the plates off the table and ran to drop them in the sink. He watched as you sauntered, hips swaying while you discarded pieces of clothing, one by one, completely naked before reaching the barn door that closed off the master bathroom from your bedroom.

Ari shimmied down his pants with much less grace, shucking off his shirt and socks, before joining you in the steamy room. He watched in awe as you stepped into the water and it ran down the curves of your body. Ari reached his hand under the stream and immediately retracted at the sting of the heat.

“God, Duchess. I love you, but I don’t think I could stand it if the lava you’re standing under burns my skin off before I even get to touch you.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Bear, it’s not that bad.”

You begrudgingly turned down the temperature as Ari joined you. This wasn’t the first time you and Ari had done anything, but it was the first time you had seen each other fully naked all at once, since you hadn’t fully had sex yet.

You turned around as Ari grabbed your shampoo, gently rubbing it into your scalp. You moaned in satisfaction at the feeling of his fingertips massaging your head, basking in the intimacy and ecstasy of the moment.

“Angel, if you keep making noises like that, I don’t think we’ll ever get clean.” You laughed as you leaned back to wash the shampoo out of your hair.

Ari leaned under the stream with you to wet his hair. You squeezed the shampoo into your hand and began to massage it into his scalp, scratching your nails through his hair just the way he liked.

“Oh, fuck Angel, that’s good.” You giggled, hitting him in the chest.

“If I’ve gotta stop, so do you, mister.”

The two of you continued to wash each other, sharing kisses and feather light touches here and there before getting out and drying off.

Once you had brushed out your hair and Ari’s, the two of you made your way to your bed, sheets freshly washed just the day before. You had your towel wrapped around your body while Ari’s hung low on his waist. Ari held your hips, looking into your eyes, as you slowly backed up until your knees gave out from hitting against the bed.

Ari moved to crawl over you, his towel coming undone as he did so. Your eyes trailed down his firm chest, to his chiseled abs, until you could see how hard he was. You moaned at the sight, watching how his dick twitched in response.

His eyes stayed locked with yours until he leaned down and kissed you, trailing away from your lips and down your neck before retracing the path with his tongue.

You shuffled under him, removing your towel and discarding it on the floor with his, adjusting yourself so your head laid against the pillows. He kissed you again, deeply, passionately, before smiling and pulling away.

“I love you. I’d never change anything about my life unless it meant I could have met you sooner just to love you that much longer.”

You could feel his heavy cock tap against your leg as he kissed down your chest, eyes never leaving yours. You watched intently, lips parted in a light gasp as he finally reached where you were yearning for his touch.

Ari’s biceps bulged when he pulled your legs apart, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. Your breath shuddered at the sensation.

“Is this okay, Angel?” You nodded and whispered back.

“Yes, please. Please keep going.”

Ari’s tongue darted out of his mouth licking a stripe up your slit. Your back bowed as he dove in, licking and sucking. You knew he called you Angel, but his tongue was heavenly.

You let out a high-pitched moan, entangling your fingers through the wet strands of Ari’s hair, using the leverage to grind against his face. He inserted a finger into you, pumping it and curling it against your spot just right. You felt your legs began to shake, but pushed Ari’s head away before you could reach your peak.

“Wait, hold on.” You spoke while still trying to catch your breath. He looked up at you in bewilderment, beard glistening with your arousal.

“What’s wrong, Duchess? Did I do something?” You shook your head, still gasping for air.

“No, no. It was so good, I just, uh…..I want you to be inside me when I come.” Ari nodded, coming back up your body to kiss you.

“Okay.” He whispered back, a soft smile on his face. “Gimme a sec.”

He ran over to his discarded joggers and fished in the pocket to find his wallet where he pulled out a condom. He returned to you in bed, taking his spot between your legs again, and rolled it on. You knew he was huge, and you’d only taken two of his fingers before, but you couldn’t help the anticipation to feel all of him.

“I’m gonna open you up first, okay Angel?”

You nodded and immediately threw your head back as Ari scissored two of his long fingers against your walls, preparing you and stretching you out for what was to come. You wailed when he added a third and Ari swore he had never heard or seen something so beautiful before. The movie that was you feeling this level of bliss from him made him feel warmth and pride through his chest. He needed to be inside you.

Ari pulled out his fingers, swirling his tongue around them and sucking them clean, moaning at the sweet taste. His eyes rolled back and he nearly came from the culmination of partaking in your pleasure up to that point. You couldn’t help but clench against nothing, watching the specks of lust within the love in his gaze after that as he leaned down and framed your face with his large hands. He leaned in to kiss you, then pulled away as his dark blue irises, thin around his blown pupils, shifted between your eyes.

“Are you ready? Are you sure?” It came out breathy and strained. He wanted this as badly as you, after taking everything step by painfully slow step for nine months together.

“Yes, Ari. Please. I just want to feel you so close.”

He nodded and ran the head of his cock

up and down your folds, gathering your arousal before perching at your entrance. He kept one hand at his base, the other on your cheek as he looked deeply into your eyes. You felt the bulbous tip breach your entrance, almost with a pop as your tight warmth welcomed Ari.

“Ah, oh, Angel, you’re so tight.” Ari nearly yelped at the feeling of being inside you. You watched as he couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter closed from the overwhelming pleasure. “I’ll take it slow, promise.”

All Ari wanted was for you to enjoy this as much as him, and when he was able to pry his eyes open to see the way your face was contorted, your eyes as sincere and pleading as his, he knew you were. He slowly pushed in further, accompanied by a deep moan from you. Neither of you were virgins by any means, but something about this moment with Ari felt like being born again, straight into delectation.

He pushed another inch in, slowly, and your hands flew to his broad back, nails digging in the muscles that firmly blanketed his scapulas. His hips jumped at the sting, pushing him in to the hilt, causing you both to brace against each other at the fullness and all encompassing warmth.

His head dipped into crook of your neck, breath fanning your collar bone and beard sending tingles through your body as he sucked on the spot that gave you chills.

Your hands ran down his back and to his ass, pulling him in closer to you, if that was even possible.

“Ari, I need you to move.” You felt him nod against you and his hips pulled out only a few inches before rolling back in.

You breathy moans were close to his ear, spurring him on to keep going faster, pulling out farther and pushing in deeper until the warmth from your core began to climb up your body again. He found a rhythm and could feel as your pussy began to clench.

“Duchess, I can feel you’re close. It feels so good. You’re always so good to me.” His praise pulled you that much closer to the edge, hands grasping for purchase across his back, slipping slightly from the thin layer of sweat.

“Fuck, Angel. So tight. It’s okay, you can let go. Let go for me.” Ari needed you to come for him. He needed to feel your body sucking him in, holding him tighter. He pulled his head from your neck to look into your eyes when it happened. He moved his thumb down to your clit, rubbing tight circles and sending you over the cliff you were hanging on.

“Oh god, Ari!” You keened, your ankles locking around his narrow hips as your entire body contracted in ecstasy. Ari wasn’t far behind, the tightness surrounding him causing him to drive his hips all the way forward and spill into the condom. He collapsed over your chest again as he grunted lowly into your ear.

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes as you caught your breaths. He pulled back, his now dry hair draping over the sides of his face and framing yours, making a small world where it was only the two of you. His silky brown locks blocked everything else out. The only thing in existence was your shared gaze, filled with hazy satisfaction and dopey smiles.

Ari leaned down and kissed your lips, and then your forehead before he whispered to you. “I’m going to pull out, okay? You stay here while I go get a washcloth.”

You nodded and gasped as you felt the sensation of the ridges of his dick passing against your walls until you were empty. On instinct you rolled over to your side and closed your legs, still sporadically convulsing from the orgasm. Ari returned and cleaned you up, pulling up the covers and crawling into bed behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you closer.

He kissed you shoulder and muttered. “I’m so happy to have you. I love you so much.”

You turned over and tangled your legs with his, pulling him in for a lazy, filthy kiss. “I love you, and I’m the luckiest person in the world. Or more like, my whole world was just in me.”

You winked at Ari as his shoulders bounced in laughter at your ridiculous statement. You were drunk in happiness, but neither of you would have it any other way. You slung your arm around his waist and nestled deeply into his chest, a satisfied smile on your face.

Next >

Bonus A/N: as Paris Hilton says, “that’s hot”

Series Taglist:

@patzammit

@hawkeyes-queen

@identity2212

[randy-inks-writing-blog]

Lonely (Lucifer x Hellborn! GN Reader)

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Just some fluff with sad boi Lucifer for fun. Tell me what you think and what I can improve on!

Edit: You can read the fanfic on Ao3

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Succubuses and incubuses are known for their sexual activities. You, however, choose a distinct career path. Instead, you use your skills to comfort people. Give them a little massage, or a talk too. Many people are surprised to find lots of sinners have parent issues. On rare occasions, customers just want to pretend that their partner is still with them. Your coworker walked up to you with a smug smile. She stops at your desk and says “Guess who just asked for your services, (y/n)” you till your head, surely must be someone important if she’s bothering you. “Who?” you ask softly. The coworker smiles wide and answers; “the king of hell, himself!” Shocked at what your coworker says, you stood up and said “Lucifer Morningstar? Do you know what he wants? Oh, dear Satan, I gotta look good for him!” Your coworker grabs your shoulders and holds you still. “(y/n) chill, he just wants someone to talk to. Just wear something comfy, your appointment is at 3 tomorrow, ok?” You nod your head. That’s enough time to calm your nerves, hopefully.

You walk up to the doors of Lucifer’s manor, quietly you knock on the door. A small old imp opens the door for you. He bows his head and tells you to follow him to Lucifer’s room. As the two of you walked, you looked at all the portraits of Lucifer’s family. Most of them were of the missing queen and their daughter, Charlie Morningstar. The butler stops right in front of Lucifer’s room. You stop right next to the imp as he knocks on Lucifer’s door. “Sire, your guest is here.” You heard a response but could barely make any words out. The butler opens the door for you, and you slowly walked in. The room is positively a mess, rubber ducks everywhere as far as you can see. You walked over to the king’s bed and gave a small bow to him. Looking at the fallen angel’s face, he like his room looks like a mess. Small tears fall down the king’s face, looks like he’s been crying for days. You sat next to the king, being mindful of your wings and tail. Lightly, you place a hand on the king’s check and softly rub it. With caution, you spoke to the king; “Your highness, is there anything specific you need?” the crying angel answers back “call me Lucifer please. And no, I just- I just need someone to hold me like Lilith once did.”

Well, that’s a bit awkward. How long has the queen been gone for again? Seven years, who knew the king of all of hell was just a lonely guy? Hey, you’re not going to judge you’re the one who took this job. You laid down next to the king and pulled him closer to you. Lucifer’s head laid right on your chest as you wrap your wings around the king. The king cried into your chest. Good thing this is a gender non-specific fanfic. “I miss my wife; I miss her a lot. Why? Why did she have to leave me? Was I not good enough?” he sobs, making the situation more awkward for you. You ran a hand through his blonde hair with a smile before you whispered. “I think you’re good enough, Lucifer. Maybe you should stop thinking about the past and think about your future.” Lucifer looks up at you with hopeful eyes quietly he ask, “Like my daughter?” You nod your head yes, but Lucifer just looks away from you. “If only it was that easy. All I can think about is the past. I’m the one of the doom of all of humanity. I’m the one who convinces Eve to eat that fruit.” You cup Lucifer’s face and make him look at you again. “While that is true, you also help make hell, and without hell there wouldn’t be imps, hellhounds, succubuses and incubuses. And those loan sharks that have those weird Italian accents yet don’t know a single word from that language.” Lucifer listens to your talk, feeling a little better. The king nuzzles into your chest once again, finding your body heat comforting. You snuggle closer to the king; this is something you’re going to brag about to your coworker. “I guess you’re right, in a way. Thank you for doing this for me. I’ll double your tip when this is over.” Lucifer softy spoke, now feeling a little sleepy. You nod your head and lightly pet Lucifer’s hair.

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[rorichuu]

raaah! i love your acc layout /gen omg >:O !!

anyway, if it’s not too much to ask for could i request sniper x fem(or gn) reader who’s basically miss paulings assistant? (lol the asisstants-asisstant), like miss pauling is out of work one day and reader takes her place ^^

thanks sm! it can be hc’s, or a fic or like, whatever u want basically cuz i think it’s a pretty complicated req :’) it’s 100% okay if you can’t complete the req/don’t feel comfortable doing so :D

close eye — sniper x assistant!reader

pairing: sniper x fem!reader

authors note: omg hello! and thank you so much! :D this is such a fun request, i seriously loved writing this! also omg this might be a bit jumbled cuz it's 2:51 AM heheh so please bear with me :) — thank you for the request, friend!

disclaimer: none besides the use of sniper's real name (mick, mundy, etc.)! enjoy!

when you were introduced by miss pauling right before she had to leave was pretty brief.

she's a busy woman! and you accepted the temporary position happily!

but as you greeted everyone, one man stayed behind; observing.

as curious as you were, you tried to advance, but was sorely interrupted by a chatty scout.

as politely as you could, you tried to pry from the conversation, only to find the tall new zealander to be far gone.

with a defeated huff, you began the day as you previously intended.

honestly, this man is kinda nervous around you in some sorts.

he probably hasn't interacted with a woman outside of miss pauling (merely because of his job, he's obviously greeted women before)

but as much as he had thought of coming up to you, he always kinda of scurried away before you could catch sight of him

a little nervous and very skeptical...

.

.

.

The horrid sun beat down on your skin as you frustratingly looked through the papers clipped on Miss Pauling's board. You were biting your lip in concentration to finally catch what you were looking for. "Aha!" You exclaim in victory. You look up, eyes immediately squinting at your forgetfulness. You held the clipboard with one hand as the other lifted to your forehead to dismiss the sun the best you could, to finally catch sight of Sniper's van. "Can't hide from me..." You whisper to yourself before you march over.

You come to a stop at the van door, lifting your hand to raise a loud knocking sound to catch his attention. You waited patiently before hearing the sound of his boots hitting against the paved wood. You were then greeted by the man's presence. His eyebrows furrowed, lips forming a thin line in observation of your awaiting figure. His red sleeves were rolled up, one hand on the door handle, the other on the door frame. Sniper leaned out, his figure shadowing yours as he waited expectantly. "Yes?" His voice spoke low, informing you he had possibly just woken up from a nap.

You caught yourself staring, cheeks flushed red at his ruffled hair and button-down shirt. (Although, it could very well be the heat...) You clear your throat. "Yes! I know we haven't properly met... but I have a job that requires you," You said, noticing the man sending you a curt nod. "Uhm, right. And, of course, these are all confirmed by Miss Pauling! I'm simply her messenger and advisor for the day." You happily said, lifting the mood as the man took in your words. With a small acknowledged hum, his arm begun to pull back; and the door then closed.

"Sure, mate." Bam.

? ? ?

"What?" You muttered out, stepping back a bit before looking around rapidly. What just happened!? "M-Mr. Mundy! I haven't even explained what the job pertains to!" You tried to reason, but as time slowly started to slip by, he gave you zero sign that he was interested.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. 3 hours after y/n's introductions .

Sniper held his gun close as he observed you quietly. With one eye shut and the other following you.

Sniper was admittedly suspicious.

Of course, Miss Pauling had directly introduced you to everyone... but occasions like this were rare. So he did what no other merc even considered doing.

He observed your every move.

Sniper's lip curled in a small scowl, ripping away from his scope as he noticed you chatting away with Medic over some job, he was sure. Now listen, Sniper wasn't trying to find some dirt on you, he was just cautious. He had to be! That's what part of his job entailed! But your bubbly presence made it hard to suspect you. Desperately, he tried to let it go. But he couldn't help but have his mind think about just you.

Why couldn't he stop thinking about you?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. the present .

"Mister Mundy, if you don't take this job, Miss Pauling will be quite upset with the both of us! God forbid the administrator gets involved... Ugh, Sniper get out here right now!" Of course, this didn't work. Sniper was snickering in his van as he leaned against his seat near the door. His arms were crossed and one leg lay limp on his knee. Mick wore a cocky smile that left you raising your hand and bickering with a shut door, this was quite entertaining.

You huff, hand resting on the top of your head now as you admit defeat. The sun began to drunken your mind as you swayed slightly, leaning against the vehicle, you began to fan yourself with the clipboard. You just accepted the fact you may get in trouble with this.

... Slowly, time passed, it had been a short minute that Sniper began to grow suspicious of the sudden quietness that lurked outside his door. He then heard a small thump and a sliding noise erupt from beyond the wall he sat against. He began to stand, hand now wrapped against the handle as he leaned outside to find the sun taking it's unruly toll on you. "Mind if I come in?"

"Yeah yeah, don't kill yourself out here, mate..."

While his thick accent invited you in, begrudgingly, you nearly ran inside with how fast you wanted to escape the unforgiving heat. He looked over his shoulder to find you faced directly in front of his fan, watching you slump thankfully against the breeze. He scoffed, grabbing two mugs to start a new coffee pot.

"The job," this had caught your attention immediately. "Tell me about it." With a low rumble of his voice, you found yourself watching his back as he grabbed coffee beans and his small machine... which lay in the back of his remote kitchen. Your eyes lit up in clear relief.

"Mhm, right, of course," You cleared your throat, remaining professional the best you could. "There's obvious suspicion up in Teufort... you and the others are needed to scope the enemy in hopes of eliminating any future advances." You snicker. Sniper turns around.

"Was that... a pun?"

"Perhaps."

"Cripes..." Sniper's lips fall into a small smile, turning back to aid to the coffee before walking back over. "Drink." He replies shortly, hand out while he offers the hot coffee. You take it before he leans back and sits right where he was before. You take it graciously after you thank him.

The van keeps quiet for a while, a comfortable silence as you made some notes and read the rest of Miss Pauling's clipboard. "You done then?" Your ears twitch at the sudden sound, you take a second to respond.

"Pardon?" You turn, facing him as your eyes follow up to his. He's looking down at his mug before maintaining eye-contact with you.

"After this. You're gone?" This time his question is much more clear. You can tell Sniper doesn't like eye contact, keeping his space and eyes wandering. You notice this. You let out a small huff.

"Ah, I'll be outta your hair before you know it." You joke, although your shoulders slump in a saddened way. Sniper looks at you in the corner of his eye before taking another slug of his coffee.

"Bummer..."

"Yes, I know. You'd best be celebrating soon- ... uh, hm?" Your head lifts from your papers to see the man swirling his mug before looking at you.

"I said bummer." He repeats himself before he's left getting another cup. You can feel your cheeks getting red... and you being. Very confused. Your hand twitches, almost losing your pen before regaining your composure. "They need'ja out there, best get goin', mate." He announced before turning around and leaning on his counter, looking at you over his mug. You flush once more.

"Right, I appreciate your time and patience, Sniper," you send a quick smile before brushing down your skirt and handing your mug over. "Thank you for the hospitality." You said quietly, nervous around the Australian. He takes it and nods. “See ya’ around miss.”

Taking that as your sign to leave, the click of your heels are soon echoed and left with a small click of his trailer door. Sniper looks at the handle for a while, anxious to see you again.

You were lovely company.

.

.

.

rorichuu!

[lovedrruunk]

What TikToks I think overwatch characters would post pt 2! (>ᴗ•) !

Part 1 !

Rein, don’t know if u guys know that liver king guy but he’s literally just rein if he took steroids. Posts tons of like gym core/culture videos yk BUT HES ONE OF THE GOOD ONES!!! Ppl in the community love him bc of how positive he is even though he’d give rlly bad advice “EATING THIS RAW TESTICLE INCREASED MY TESTOSTERONE LEVELS BY 9%!!!!”

D.va, this can go 2 ways. #1 in all her Korean celebrity realness posts vids doing trendy dances while using crazy whitening filters and doing aegyo. #2 goes by a fake name and trolls the fuck out of people. D.va being a hater is such a strong head canon of mine like I love her being a toxic bitch like yes slay or whatever so relatable! Replies to streamers she secretly hates like “Wow your mom’s basement looks so clean!” “My left toe can get better plays.” “Bet even your keyboard hates being touched by you.” basically meowbah or wtv her name was but less weird more cunty

Ana, she replies to reins TikTok’s telling his followers NOT to do anything he says, but other than that I can see her posting cooking vids (as every Arab mom does) but she’ll be talking sweetly in English and then suddenly start cussing something out in Arabic and it’ll be so off topic and it’s rlly funny “and then you add 1 cup of flour! ‘I told my lazyass lgbtqia daughter to pick up some earlier but of fucking course she chose to disappoint me again. Ever since the day I birthed her she has been disappointing me over and over again.’ A pinch of salt!”

Hanzo, DEPRESSION CORE SLIDESHOWS LMAOOO some “when the nice guy loses his patience… the devil shivers.” ass shit, bio is probs something stupid like “family betray, women cheat, Hennessy cures.”

Ashe, CONTROVERSIAL QUEEN !!! People forget she’s southern like please you cannot tell me she doesn’t have some crazyass takes. Will post borderline ragebait in like her car or something. “My gun identifies as a PLUNGER. Beat that Biden.” “BIDEN CANT TAKE MY GUNS, I KEEP THEM UPSTAIRS!!!” “Bidens oldass will probably find a way to outlive my OMNIC butler.” She’ll say all this stupid shit with a straight face and I just think that’s so funny. On rare occasions she’ll actually have a rlly good progressive take and ppl will be like okay hold up let her cook…

Tracer, kinda like junkrat where she's only famous cuz ppl lowk make fun of her and she hasn't caught on yet... I LOVEEEE Tracer she's my fav character but CMONNNN "Cheers love!" SHES NOT SURVIVING TIKTOK!!! ppl in the comments will be mocking her accent and she'll just think they're british too... ppl make fun of her NOT cuz they hate her but because she's just ummm eccentric that's the world plus she's british so that's rlly the only reason why ppl make fun of her like not in a mean way but just for funsies yk...

Pharah, being arab and being a lesbian I am 100% qualified to say this but she's such a fucking lesbo ykwim like 'hey mamas' type, she's also really whitewashed like thinks shes a white stud or something. Ellie Williams wannabe makes thirst traps in stained white wife beaters and expects every lesbian in a 100 mile radius to want her (they dont). Thinks playing basketball makes her the shit and she's just rlly desperate and lame. horny on main. Ana found one of her thirst traps once and it led to a really awkward convo

Kiriko, she's only there to post cute videos of her adventures with her gang and fox like shes just there to have a good time ykwim. And she's like popular bc all her fans r girls and her vlogs and stuff r just so nice to watch plus she's funny and rlly cool!

Baptiste, the anti-andrew tate. Hes so attractive and like confident that people can't help but like him ykwim like he makes little straight boys piss their pants with his bazillion level aura. He'll just post a random vid in his car maybe eating chipotle or something and he'll have men and women alike confessing their love for him in the comments. Lesbians love him.

Any character I haven't mentioned i just can't see posting or having tiktok!

[caycanteven]

Please be sure to check my blog rules to know what’s acceptable in my blog space! 

About me!

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them

I go by Cay, and I’m a narrative artist with a BFA in Game, Animation and Simulation Design, with an aspiration to be a game artist. I’m a coffee addict with an insatiable hunger for sushi. I listen to all genres of music but I lean heavily toward alternative soft metal core. Current fav band is Bad Omens with an occasional Glass Waves (indie artist, check them out!) 

My Tumblr blog is for self indulgences, including Self Insert x Canon, OCxCanon, and occasional Self InsertxOC or whatever you’d call it. I draw for myself first and foremost.

CayCantEven or CayCantDraw?

CayCantEven is just a social handle that rolls off the tongue, and it's stuck so long I feel weird not using it lol. CayCantDraw is my freelance handle for all business exchanges. It's a fun play on words with an ironic twist to my skills as an artist.

What do you use for drawing?

I use ClipStudio Paint EX, and the tablet I use is a Huion Kamvas 20. I also have an iPad with Procreate for working on the go. I always have a sketchbook with me though despite being primarily a digital artist. 

Do you take art/writing requests?

No, I don’t take requests. There are rare occasions where I may offer a poll for something an audience may want to see as a warmup or for fun, but primarily I do not accept requests via ask box or DMS. I appreciate the support via Kofi if you’d like to see something specific!

Do you take roleplay requests?

I don’t offer or take roleplay requests. I will only offer that, if ever, to close mutuals or friends who share that interest.

Do you take commissions?

Yep! I will post a couple days ahead of them opening to inform anyone interested. I use Google Forms to take commission requests and availability varies! If you have any other questions, I am open to questions via my inbox (will respond privately.) Check out my pinned for commission details!

Can I make fanart/fanfiction for you or for myself?

By all means, yes please! You are more than welcome to do that, and I would LOVE to see it too! Please be sure to tag me so I don’t miss out! Only condition for any fanart/fanfiction of my OCs/Sonas/Designs is that they are not portrayed in problematic/toxic scenarios. Please respect that some things make me uncomfortable. My characters are my acts of comfort shared with you, and I’d like them to be respected too. 

What fandoms are you in?

I don’t seek out a lot of fandoms, but I do have hyper fixations. My main interests involve: 

Undertale and Undertale AUs

Five Nights at Freddy’s 

There are occasional times where I may appreciate designs of characters and post about it, but my blog is currently filled with handsome bones~

My Current Characters

Lex (Self Insert) and her variants.

Tags: #selfinsert lex, #cays selfinsert lex, #undertale selfinsert lex

Horrorfell Variants - Balsam (Sans) and Cypress (Papyrus)

Tags: #balsam Sans, #horrorfell balsam, #cypress papyrus, #horrorfell cypress, #cays horrorfell

SilvaTale AU (Original Slice of Life AU) - Buster (Sans) and Timber (Papyrus) Note: Currently being worked on. Questions are welcome.

Tags: #buster sans, #silvatale sans, #silvatale au, #silvatale buster, #silvatale papyrus, #timber papyrus, #silvatale timber

Can I interact with your characters?

Sure! Though please understand I'm really, really slow to responding to asks, and I get overwhelmed very easily. I know a lot of people like my characters--cough Balsam cough--and want to to ask them questions or leave affections. As long as you respect me and my characters, it's welcomed!

[sinsiriuslyemo]

CH 3:

Sirius had always thought of Astronomy as the last connection to his family which he held onto, for reasons unknown to him. In fact, many times, he’d considered dropping the class altogether, swearing to speak with McGonagall about it, but he would almost always forget. And on the rare occasion where he would remember wanting to drop the class, it never seemed very important anymore. And so he’d resigned to continue taking the course, doing his best not to roll his eyes whenever the topic of the Orion constellation arose in their lessons, despite the strange sense of nostalgia that would come over him. He could never understand why or which part of his childhood he longed for — most of it was a time he would prefer to forget. But whenever he pondered on it for too long, he would realize that he could hardly remember anything before his eleventh birthday. It was as though pockets of his youth had been blocked in his mind, but he could never understand how. James suggested it was due to the trauma he endured, but something about that felt inaccurate.

Lately, that same feeling would wash over him when they would discuss the Jupiter moons, only the longing would come with a familiarity and sadness that he couldn’t identify. After a while, he began to pay it no mind, or tried to at any rate.

“And Jupiter’s largest moon is…?” Professor Silverling asked, looking back at her class, searching for someone to call out. “Mr. Black?”

Sirius blinked, looking up at the professor and answering as if by reflex, “Callisto.”

“It’s actually Ganymede,” Lily corrected, her hand going to his shoulder.

“Oh right,” Sirius mumbled, knitting his brows.

“That’s correct, Ms. Evans. Five points to Gryffindor!”

Sirius and Lily shared a quick smile as James whispered to her, “Well done, love.”

“Thanks,” she whispered back, beaming up at him.

“So, for tonight’s homework, please complete an essay on the differences between the four largest moons of Jupiter. And list at least three potions whose potency changes with the positions of each of the four moons. That will be all for this evening.”

“You always get that one wrong,” James said to Sirius as they packed up their telescopes.

“I know, it’s obnoxious,” Sirius replied, slinging his arm through his bag’s strap.

“Maybe you just need to repeat it to yourself over and over again until the next class —”

“When I will promptly forget?” Sirius answered with a smirk. “It’s not as though I’ll actually ever use any of this information.”

“If you ever hope to be able to brew your own potions, you do,” Lily replied with a smirk of her own.

“That’s why I have James,” Sirius teased as they descended the stairs of the astronomy tower.

James laughed while Lily simply rolled her eyes.

“Well you won’t have him tomorrow evening,” she said, one arm loosely winding around James’ as she looked from him over to Sirius to add, “We’re going to have a picnic by the Black Lake at sunset.”

“How romantic, Jamie,” Sirius teased.

James rolled his eyes and groaned, “Shut it, Sirius.”

But Sirius was unable to help himself, he was having far too much fun. “Why don’t you ever do anything like that with me anymore?”

Lily giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth as they reached the bottom of the stairs and continued toward Gryffindor tower.

“Sirius…” James warned, arching a brow at the other boy.

“You take me for granted James Pot —”

James dropped his bag and jumped on Sirius, wrestling him to the floor. The other students hardly paid any attention save for a glance in their direction, walking around the pair and Lily, who was rolling her eyes while trying to suppress a smile.

“Will both of you get up off the floor,” she said. “James! You ought to know better!”

Sirius was able to pin down one of James’ wrists, straddling his waist as his free hand tried to catch that of James. James, however, was not giving up without a fight and grabbed Sirius’ hand, yanking him off and onto his back. Now it was James who had Sirius beneath him, trying to pin one arm down while he fought to free his other wrist from Sirius’ grasp. Both of them were laughing uncontrollably.

“Mister Potter! Mister Black!”

Professor McGonagall glided down the corridor, her chin held up gracefully, and her lips pursed as though she was doing her best to look stern.

Both boys froze in place, turning to look up at her as she approached. McGonagall glanced at Lily.

“Ms. Evans, if you would, please return to your dorm.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Lily said, briefly glancing at James with shake of her head before she continued to Gryffindor tower.

Professor McGongall arched a brow at the boys on the floor. “Do either of you think that tossling on the floor in the middle of the corridor is approriate?”

“We were just —”

“As amusing as I’m sure your answer would have been, Mr. Black, it was a rhetorical question,” she replied, shifting her eyes to James. “And you, Mr. Potter — not exactly the behavior expected from a Head Boy, is it?”

“Sorry, Professor,” James said, pulling away from Sirius and starting to get up. He grunted when Sirius yanked him down to the floor so that he could stand first. James glared at his mate as he too stood up, but that was barely any heat behind his eyes.

Professor McGonagall let out a short, silent breath, parting her lips in the process as she narrowed her eyes at Sirius. “I would appreciate it if you both would leave your shenanigans out of the corridors.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Very well. Off to bed now,” she replied with a single nod.

James bent to pick up his discarded bag as Sirius did the same, and both boys began walking towards the dorms, the former whispering, “Wanker.”

“Tosspot,” Sirius whispered back.

“Quietly, if you please,” McGonagall called after them, and had they turned to look at her, they might have noticed the tiniest hint of an amused smile on her face.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius teased as they went through the portrait hole.

“Piss off, you were the one acting a right git,” James fired back.

“What are you two on about now?” Remus asked as they approached the sofa in front of the fireplace.

“Prongs wanted to wrestle in the corridor,” Sirius answered immediately, plopping down on the sofa beside him.

“Sirius was being a prat,” James said, taking a seat beside Lily on the floor.

“Of course he was,” Remus replied.

“Oi!”

“Don’t act like you don’t push the envelope, Padfoot, we all know you too well for that,” Remus said, looking at him.

“I was only saying that since he and Lily have been going out, James rarely takes me past the common room anymore,” Sirius replied, feigning a pout.

“Oh you —” James growled, though his grin betrayed him as he moved to tackle Sirius again.

“Right, that’s enough!” Lily exclaimed, putting a hand on James’ shoulder until he sat back on his bottom. She lowered her voice and said to James, “Maybe we can reschedule our picnic so that you can spend some time with your friends.”

Sirius answered before James could. “No, I’m only taking the mickey, Evans. Really, go on your picnic.”

With James and Lily on a date, that meant that he and Remus would only need to lose Peter in order to have their own date. Wait, where was Peter?

“Are you certain? I don’t want to come between you two.”

“You’re not, honestly,” Sirius assured her, much to the relief of James, who let out a breath.

A moment later, the portrait hole opened, and Peter came bounding inside with a grin. “Good evening one and all.”

“What’s got you so chipper?” James asked, his arm slung around Lily’s shoulders.

“Delighted you asked,” Peter answered, doing a little hop and landing on the sofa beside Sirius. “I’ve just been in the broom closet with Sybill Trelawney.”

Sirius’ eyes widened in surprise. “Rubbish.”

“Not rubbish!” Peter insisted.

Remus leaned forward to look at him from Sirius’ other side. “Was she looking for her crystal ball again? That’s usually where the sixth years hide it from her.”

Peter’s expression fell. “Yes, but —”

“Ah, so the truth reveals itself,” Sirius said with a smile. “You pulled the ole, ‘Oh! How dreadful, they’ve hidden your crystal ball! Not to worry, I will help you!’”

Lily giggled behind her hand as James laughed out loud. Remus only smiled and shook his head at Sirius’ impression of Peter.

“I don’t sound like that,” Wormtail said.

“Aye, but the fact remains, you offered to help, and received not so much as a smile in thanks, am I right?” Sirius replied.

“Well… yes, but —”

“Aw!” James and Sirius both exclaimed.

“I told you this morning, Wormtail, she’s not very interested in dating anyone,” Remus said, still leaning forward to meet eyes with Peter.

“You know, Helga Tammervin asked me about you in herbology this afternoon,” Lily said.

“What?” Peter asked with a grimace.

“Well, she did! I could set you up if you like,” Lily sang playfully.

Sirius nudged Peter in encouragement. This was perfect; if James was on a date and Peter was also on a date, that would leave him and Remus to theirs.

“Helga Tammervin is a troll,” Peter groaned.

“Well, that’s not very nice, is it,” Sirius said.

“Well, she is,” Wormtail replied. “What about Victoria Crestfield?”

Lily burst into laughter, which she quickly tried to stifle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“I do — you’ve got no chance, mate,” James said. “Not even Sirius could get Victoria Crestfield into a broom closet.”

“And bloody hell did I do my best,” Sirius added in a groan.

“We know, we were all there,” Remus replied without looking up from his book.

Sirius arched a brow at him, one corner of his lips curling upward.

“Forget about Victoria Crestfield, Peter. She’s not giving any boys her time as she’s planning on becoming a healer after Hogwarts,” Lily said.

Peter sighed exasperatedly. “Just my luck.”

“Right, I’m going to bed,” Lily said, turning to James and kissing him on the lips before she smiled at Peter. “Let me know if you change your mind about Helga.”

James watched as Lily went to the staircase that led to the girl’s dorm until she was out of sight. Sighing blissfully, he turned back to his friends with a stupid grin on his face.

“She’s wonderful isn’t she?”

“Yes, yes, wonderful. I’m going to bed,” Sirius announced, standing and stretching his arms above his head. He caught Remus having a peek at his stomach when his shirt raised slightly and smirked to himself. Putting the tip of his finger into his mouth, he wet it and wiggled it in Remus’ ear.

“Ugh! Sirius!” Remus exclaimed, getting up and chasing Sirius up to the dorms and Peter and James laughed, and followed them up.

The following evening, after the familiar song and dance of James deciding what to wear to go on his picnic with Lily — apparently he was going to try to 'do the job of a chaser' as he put it — Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance.

“We continue to find ourselves in this position, chaps,” Peter said, as if on cue. “So, what are we going to do?”

Remus paused for a moment, making a bit of a show of him thinking about his response before he gently bobbed his shoulders. “It’s been a while since we’ve played Blind Man’s Search.”

Peter sighed as he mulled over the suggestion, while Sirius bit the tip of his tongue to remain silent. If he was overly enthusiastic, Peter would quickly catch on that they would in fact be playing Blind Man’s Bluff, which would find whoever was blindfolded — in this case, they would make sure it was Peter — wandering around, trying to find the other two but never actually finding them.

“That’s true,” Peter replied. “Alright, yeah. That should shave an hour or two until James gets back.”

“I think he’s planning to spend the night with Evans,” Sirius mused.

“Right,” Peter answered, lowering his eyes thoughtfully.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Remus insisted, looking over at Sirius. “We can play in the Quidditch pitch. No one is using it tonight.”

Sirius pretended to consider the idea, slowly shifting his eyes to Peter with a shrug. “Yeah, I’d be up for a game of Blind Man’s Search.”

“Okay, but we draw twigs for choosing the Blind Man,” Peter replied.

Remus nodded. “I agree, that’s the most fair.”

“Fine,” Sirius said with a shrug, rolling off his bed and grabbing his jacket. Putting it on, he went into his top drawer and pulled out the twigs he kept in there and the blindfold they always used, shoving them into his pocket before he followed the other two out.

The common room was unusually busy for Friday night, most of their house opting to stay in for the night and play games of exploding snaps or revise for OWLs and NEWTs alike. The same fifth year girls from a few weeks prior sat in their usual place close to the fire, flashing shy smiles in Sirius’ direction as he, Remus and Peter walked by. He always smiled back, even when he had no intention whatsoever of ever taking it further.

“What do you think they’re doing,” Peter wondered aloud as they ducked through the portrait hole.

“Well, Evans mentioned something about a picnic, so my guess is eating,” Sirius replied.

“They going to be going out every weekend?”

“I imagine so,” Remus answered. “That’s what you do when you’re dating someone isn’t it? You spend time with them.”

“But we haven’t got to spend a weekend with him since term started,” Peter complained as they descended the stairs to the entrance hall.

“Oh cheer up, Wormtail,” Sirius said, winding an arm around the other boy’s neck. “It’s not as though we never see him anymore.”

“We live with him,” chimed Remus.

“Right.”

“I know, but it’s not the same,” Peter said.

Remus snorted softly, shaking his head as he met eyes with Sirius. Peter had always been rather codependent on James, rarely leaving the boy’s side. In fact, if not for Sirius and Remus, he might have tried to convince James to let him tag along on his dates with Lily. It could be a bit much at times, but Sirius always assumed he just had trouble with change.

James and Lily were indeed sitting on a blanket near the lake, the former waving at his three friends as they continued their walk to the pitch.

“If it bothers you that much, Peter, talk to him when we get back to the dorm,” Remus suggested.

“Right. Suppose I could.”

As they went into the Quidditch pitch, Sirius and Remus shared another glance, a silent confirmation of their plan to sneak away together.

"Alright, shortest twig is it," Sirius said as he pulled out the three twigs from his pocket and held them up in his hand, their bottom halves covered by his palm. "Go on, Moony, you first."

Remus sighed and selected the one furthest to the left and waited for Peter to select one. It didn't matter which one he chose, Sirius had already spelled each of the three twigs to shorten when Peter touched it — a jinx the four of them had come up with in third year.

"Bloody hell," Peter groaned when he realized that he'd drawn the short stick. "Alright then, go on."

Grinning to himself, Sirius tied the blindfold around Peter's eyes before the latter began to sing. They had until the end of the song to hide themselves before he would come to look for them, still blindfolded. It had been easy for Sirius and Remus to slip out of the pitch.

"So, fancy a walk?" Sirius asked.

Remus arched a brow at him. "Really? That's what you do with the witches you've dated?"

"Dated is quite a strong word, but yes, Moony. Didn’t you know that a romantic walk can often be a good way to get to know someone," Sirius replied.

"Except we already know almost everything about each other."

"Well, then, maybe it'll just be foreplay for us, Sirius said, smirking at the blush that arose on Remus' cheeks. "You really do look quite adorable when you blush."

Remus rolled his eyes, but the hue spread to his neck as a smile pulled at his lips. "This must be the Sirius Black charm I've heard so much about."

"It's working, isn't it?" Sirius teased, playfully bumping his shoulder against his friend's.

Ignoring the question, Remus asked, "You said you wanted to get more tattoos, is that right?"

"I did, yes," Sirius replied as they walked through the gates of Hogwarts, onto the path that led into Hogsmeade. "Why?"

"What say we go and get you another."

Sirius arched a brow, stopped walking and took a step closer to his date as a smirk spread on his lips. "You want to come with me to get a tattoo?"

Remus began to smile back, nodding once. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

Shaking his head, Sirius replied, "No, no problem at all. Of course, the only shop is in Diagon Alley. Any ideas for how we could get there?”

“That’s not entirely true,” Remus answered. “I overheard someone at The Three Broomsticks once say they got one from Otto Dibble.”

“The bloke that works at Gladrags?” Sirius asked.

“Apparently, it’s a service he offers on the side, though not something he advertises.”

“Hm,” Sirius hummed, looking up at Remus and letting a slow smile form on his lips. “Are you going to hold my hand while he puts it on me?"

"Not a chance," Remus replied, rolling his eyes as he started to walk again down the path.

Grinning to himself, Sirius jogged to catch up with him. “Have you ever thought about getting one?”

“I don’t think so,” Remus answered. “Apart from the fact that voluntary pain doesn't appeal to me in the slightest, I don’t have any money to pay for it. Not all of us have a fancy summer job.”

“Fancy isn’t a word I’d use to describe cleaning Bowtruckle dung off wand-wood,” Sirius replied.

“It’s a job, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed, and I was lucky ole Selberin was willing to hire the former heir of House Black,” Sirius said. “I reckon he would give you a job as well if you wanted.”

“My parents don’t think me working is a good idea, especially given that I would need to possibly ask for days off every month. That would no doubt give rise to suspicion.”

“That’s a fair point, I suppose. Well listen, if you want a tattoo, I could buy it for you,” Sirius replied.

“Don’t be silly,” Remus answered. “You won’t have much left for a flat if you continue to spend what little you make on other things.”

“Yes, Mother,” Sirius teased, earning a playful shove as they approached the village.

It didn’t take very long to find Otto Dibble, who offered quick, hygienic and affordable magical tattoos in the backroom of Gladrags Wizardwear. He couldn't be sure whether it was that he was getting more ink or that Remus was watching this time, but as soon as Sirius took off his shirt, his nipples were as stiff as pebbles. What was more was the look in Remus' eyes as he looked over his bare chest was enough to make Sirius tingle below the waist, even as Otto began to dig the ink into the skin on his left pectoral. Remus even caved and held Sirius' hand when the needle began to get close to his heart.

Afterward, the two headed to Zonkos, where they purchased some hiccough sweets and two frog spawn soaps to leave in the first year bathrooms. The idea was that Peter might be a bit less upset with them for leaving him blindfolded on the Quidditch pitch if they came back with something to prank some of the younger students with. As they exited Zonko’s, Sirius spotted Reggie and Mulciber walking toward Tomes and Scrolls.

He hadn’t spoken to his brother in nearly a year, the night that Sirius ran away to the Potters, and that conversation had gone about as well as the war going on outside the walls of Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place. The latter had always only been partly shielded, however, and after hearing that his uncle Cygnus planned to marry Narcissa to Lucius Malfoy, and with Bellatrix already married to a Lestrange, it was only a matter of time before the pressure there was already put on him would boil over.

The brothers met eyes just as Mulciber was going through the door of the old, specialty bookshop. Sirius shook his head slightly, as if to discourage Reggie from going inside.

Regulus’ jaw tightened, his brows pulling together before he turned his head forward and followed Mulciber into the bookshop.

Sirius frowned, inhaling deeply to keep the sting in the bridge of his nose from spreading. He hadn’t wanted to leave Reggie behind, but he couldn’t have stayed a moment longer in that wretched house.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder as Remus stepped up beside him. “Have you spoken to him at all since last year?”

“No,” Sirius answered, turning away from the door Reggie had gone through. “Probably just as well. He always was soft enough to buy into our parents’ pureblood nonsense. I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will mean anything to him at any rate.”

“Wouldn’t you want to try anyway?” Remus asked.

His shoulders bobbed before he could truly ponder on the question. He had already tried to talk Regulus out of staying, especially after hearing his parents arguing the night before. Apparently their mother wanted to do something to align themselves all the more with the Dark Lord. His father, however — strategist that he was — refused to agree, saying that whatever it was she wanted would only bring shame to their house. He didn’t know what exactly they had been referring to, but he knew that Walburga Black wasn’t one to change her mind. If she couldn’t do what she wanted outright, she would find another way to achieve the same result, and he, Sirius, wanted no part of her games.

“He’s your brother, Sirius,” Remus said quietly.

Sirius snorted softly, his eyes staring at the ground at his feet. “He was once.” Taking another breath, he finally looked back at Remus. “Three Broomsticks?”

Remus frowned a bit, but nodded once. “Sure.”

They walked in silence to the Three Broomsticks, where they ordered a butterbeer each and went to the table in front of the fireplace on the far side.

“How many do you think you’ll get?” Remus asked, sitting back in his chair and taking a sip from his glass. “Tattoos, I mean.”

“I don’t know, but many more for certain. I just hope I don’t run out of space. I’d hate to have to go below the belt.”

A flurry of black came into his peripheral vision, and when he looked, Sirius caught sight of Severus Snape coming through the front doors and walking up to the bar to speak with Rosmerta.

He snarled around a drink of his butterbeer, "What’s he doing here?"

Remus looked over his shoulder just as Severus received the butterbeer he’d apparently ordered. Turning back, he nudged the side of Sirius' calf with one foot.

"Sirius, don't start," he said. "It’s never worth it, is it?"

“Only when I get to see the look on his face after he’s been made to look like an idiot. Luckily that’s quite a bit.”

Remus’ eyes narrowed at him.

His eyes rolling gently, Sirius mumbled, "Fine."

“Thank you,” Remus replied as he brought his mug up for a sip.

"I'm surprised he isn't spying on James and Lily."

Remus swallowed his sip of butterbeer and let his head fall back with a sigh. “You said you wouldn’t —”

“I said I wouldn’t say anything to him, I never made any promises not to make jokes about him,” Sirius said, looking directly at Remus with a smirk on his face.

“Merlin, you are truly annoying,” Remus said playfully, shaking his head.

“Well you’re hardly a ball of fun yourself.” Sirius finally drank from his butterbeer.

Chuckling under his breath, Remus took another sip from his own mug. He gave a sideways glance at Severus, who sat patiently at the table in the corner with a butterbeer in front of him, Remus’ brows twitched slightly.

"It is a bit odd that he’s here alone,” he said.

“Maybe the Slytherin prats even grew tired of him.”

“Who knows,” Remus replied. “Now then; shall we discuss who we’ll be giving these to?” He gestured to the bag of hiccough sweets.

They talked about who might be a good person to prank, each sipping their butterbeers, and in the end deciding that they would narrow it down to three names, and let Peter decide who it would be. The conversation naturally led to them talking about Peter’s latest obsession with finding a girlfriend, and then to what they would do after leaving Hogwarts.

Despite the developments in their relationship, Sirius couldn’t help but feel as though nothing had truly changed at all. True, he enjoyed fooling around with Remus and wanted very much to continue doing so, but their evening hadn’t felt any different than every other time they had gone out, apart from the fact that Peter and James weren’t with them.

"Does this … feel like a date?" Sirius asked.

"It doesn't really feel like a date, does it?" Remus replied, shaking his head.

"Not really, it feels," Sirius considered his words, bobbing his shoulders, "like it always does. I mean, I am having fun —"

"I am too," Remus replied immediately.

"It's just …" they both said at once, making them smile at each other.

"So what are we doing?" Remus asked after a moment.

Sirius considered the question. What were they doing? He came to only one conclusion and said with a shrug that seemed to form along with his answer, "Being each other's firsts?"

There was another pause as Remus let the words sink in, his eyes shifting slightly before meeting Sirius’ again. "I can live with that."

"As can I," Sirius replied, holding up his mug to clink with Remus'.

They drank from their mugs, sharing a comfortable moment of silence before Remus broke it, his cheeks growing that lovely, delectable pink.

"So… tonight, would you still want to —"

"Oh yes," Sirius replied with a nod, winking across the table. “If you would —”

“Yes, I would.”

Smiling in somewhat satisfaction, Sirius relaxed back in his seat just as the front doors opened again, and Mucilber walked in with Reggie and Rosier trailing in behind him, the three of them immediately finding Snape’s table. Sirius tried not to pay attention, staring down at his butterbeer for a moment before he took a sip of it.

“Should we let Wormtail decide which bathroom to put these in?” Remus asked, gesturing to the Zonko’s bag that held the two soaps.

“I suppose it’s the least we could do,” Sirius answered. “You think he’s still wandering around the pitch?”

“He almost certainly is,” Remus answered. “We really should back off after tonight. He’s got enough on his mind this year with homework alone.”

“Suppose you’re right.” Sirius glanced at the table with the four Slytherins, lifting his mug. “He would actually be quite useful about now,” he said, gesturing to the table with his eyes.

"Oh, trying to be covert, Sirius? How very clever of you," Remus teased.

"Piss off, will you?" Sirius replied with a chuckle, downing the last of his butterbeer. "Well then, off to bed?"

Narrowing his eyes, Remus tried to suppress his blush, but it was no use. "Must you be so blunt?"

"I can't help it, that color just looks so delicious on you," Sirius stage-whispered in response, winking at his friend.

Rolling his eyes, Remus finished his drink before they both stood to leave. They had just begun to walk toward the door when Snape spoke up from his table.

“Thank Merlin, the stench was getting to be too much.”

“Sirius,” Remus warned.

“I think that may be you you’re smelling, Snivellus,” Sirius replied without hesitating.

Snape’s eyes narrowed as he slowly tipped his chin up, looking at Sirius down the length of his crooked nose. “Shocking to see you out without your security blanket, Black. Did he finally grow tired of you?”

“He’s out with his girlfriend,” Sirius said, a smirk coming to his lips. “You remember Lily, don’t you?”

Snape’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his throat bobbing gently as he swallowed.

The cruel satisfaction Sirius got from leaving Snape speechless was quickly shattered when Regulus turned in his seat.

“Why don’t you and your half breed piss off,” he sneered, shooting a deathly glare at Remus while Rosier and Mulciber snickered.

“What did you say, you gormless nit?” Sirius took a step toward their table as Remus’ hand went to his chest.

“You heard me, bloodtraitor,” Reggie replied through gritted teeth.

“Why, you —”

“Enough, stop it,” Remus said, side stepping to stand partially in front of Sirius, his hand pressing gently against his chest. “It’s not worth it.”

Glaring at Reggie for a moment longer, Sirius let Remus pull him away, his shoulders tightening with every step as more snickers erupted from the small group of Slytherns. Shoving the door open, Sirius stomped out into the chilly night air with Remus not far behind him.

[dnightshade0]

Voltron: don’t fall asleep on the couch

Lance was taking a nap on the couch. His wife Elena walks in and sees him laying there and gets an evil idea.

She goes into the master bath and grabs her makeup kit, then returns to the living room and stands over Lance menacingly.

After about 15 minutes, she had successfully prettied up lances face. He was now wearing foundation, eye liner, eye shadow, powder, blush and lipstick. She giggles to herself and goes to put the makeup away. A minute later, Lance wakes up, yawns and stretches out his muscles. As he gets up, Elena comes in, acting innocent.

Elena: hay honey! Sleep well?

Lance: yep, most relaxing nap I’ve had in a while.

Elena then pulls out her phone and turns on the camera option.

Elena: strike a pose sweetie!

Lance makes a peace sign and winks as Elena takes the picture.

Snap!

Before Lance can ask to see the picture, the doorbell rings. Lance goes to answer the door to find hunk, Pidge, shiro and Keith. Lance and Elena were expecting them as they were hosting a football party to watch the game.

Lance: hay guys! About time you got here. I was going to start digging into the taco salad!

Hunk was about to retort but stops short when he takes in lance’s appearance. He gaps at him for a few seconds before replying.

Hunk: …haaaay… is the man of the house at home?

Lance: oh haha. Funny. Just get in here.

They all enter and start making vague teasing remarks.

Pidge: damn, I knew you had a skin care routine but I didn’t realize you were into that.

Lance: huh?

Keith: and here I thought you couldn’t get any prettier. lol

Lance: dude, I’m always beautiful!

Shiro: would you say your beauty rivals Elena now?

Lance: please, we’re the best looking couple on the block.

As they are talking, Elena comes in, setting a bowl of chips on the coffee table. Shiro turns to her.

Shiro: is this your handy work?

he asks pointing to lance.

Elena: (snickers) yep. >X3

They all start laughing and Lance just looks confused.

Lance: what’s so funny?

Elena: do you remember the picture I took a few minutes ago?

Lance: yeah?

She takes out her phone and shows him the picture.

Lance looks at it and his jaw drops.

Lance: !!! WTF?!?!

lance immediately tries to grab the phone but Elena holds it out of his reach.

Lance: DELETE THAT NOW?!

Elena: lol nope. :P

Lance: I’M SERIOUS! DELETE THAT PHOTO RIGHT NOW!

Elena: really Lance? Your worried about a picture I took when you have your friends standing right here and can take pictures with their own phones?

Lance freezes at that and slowly turns to look at his friends who are all smiling and are in fact taking out their phones.

Lance screeches, covers his face and runs out of the room and into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it. Elena walks up to the bathroom and hears the sound of the sink running.

Elena: honey, thats high quality makeup. The only way you’re getting that off is with makeup remover.

Lance: … where’s your makeup remover?

Elena: in the master bathroom.

Lance: … Quiznak!

(Later)

Shiro: so are you gonna delete that photo?

Elena: nope.

Shiro: why not?… wait… your gonna use it as blackmail material aren’t you?

Elena: I’ve been trying to get lance to take us to this new hibachi restaurant by us for months now. If he doesn’t take us the next time I ask, I’ll threaten to send this picture to all his sisters.

——————————————————-

This idea came to me while I was enjoying an evening out at a hibachi restaurant called Fujiyama for my birthday. It’s only on rare occasions like this that I wear make up. Then I got to thinking about what kind of funny moment Lance and his wife could have and this idea came to mind somehow… I don’t even remember how it all lead to this outcome… oh… I think maybe I do.

There was a family sitting at the same hibachi table as my mom and I. A father, mother and three little girls. It was one of the little girl’s birthday. She was turning seven. They were having a fun little family moment. The cook at our table had thrown shrimp in our mouths. He got one in my mouth, missed the second time, got shrimp in the dad’s mouth at least five times but missed every time with the little girls. He shot a shrimp into the mom’s mouth so fast, she barely had time to realize he shot it in. Her reaction was so funny. We all had a good laugh with it.

Then while we were eating I started thinking about what kind of funny moments this family must have together. I wondered if the little girls would ever try to put make up on their dad like some girls did in the movie “daddy daycare”. Then all the pieces fell into place.

[wardenred]

Flufftober 6: Corn Maze

Just the More Than We'll Never Know crew being themselves.

“So let me get this straight,” Kastur said slowly. “They’re paying us to explore... a corn maze.”

Vezee responded with a series of vigorous nods, bouncing on the heels of her feet and flailing her hands about. Privately, Rinouk thought she looked like she was either possessed or drunk. Possibly possessed by a demon who’d had too much liquor, that was an option, too. Although... did demons get inebriated?

They briefly debated asking, then decided against it. Mentioning demons around Bariq was rarely a good idea. He clearly had something personal against them.

More than an average person, that is.

“They want us to assess all the charms and challenges inside,” Vezee explained meanwhile, “and then grade each one on its spookiness, creepiness, and overall fun factor. There’ll be some brief test tomorrow to check the veracity of our claims, but the Mayor assures me it’s a formality. Mostly they just want to make sure all the guests of the festival are going to have a blast. Isn’t this just the most wholesome job we’ve ever landed?”

“I sense a catch,” Kastur said.

Bariq nodded solemnly. “There’s got to be one.”

“You’re both boring.” Vezee stuck her tongue out at them and reached for Dagatha’s hand. “Sweetness? Back me up, please?”

Dagatha’s smile was indulgent and soft. “They do this every year around here. We’ve heard about this festival before, remember?”

“Every time we passed this part of the province,” Vel confirmed. 

“Exactly. It’s just that they’re adding some extra spellwork this year, to tune up the excitement. They figure if it’s something that can occupy a team of adventurers for an hour or two, then it will be good for regular villagers for a night, that’s all.”

“It makes no sense, though,” Kastur insisted. “Why would people need a challenge for an occasion that’s focused on recreation? It’s been my impression that base-blooded humans don’t enjoy excessive mental activity even when it is required for their immediate survival. I simply can’t see them indulging in it for fun.”

“Maybe you should stop basing your impressions about an entire race on our small party,” Vel told him sagely. Rinouk tried and failed to hold back a giggle.

Vezee frowned. She managed to do it without letting her giddy smile slip for one moment, which was quite an achievement and also comical enough to turn Rinouk’s subdued laughter into a snort. “I feel like I should be offended.”

“Don’t be,” Vel advised. “It might spoil your mood. You don’t want to go into that maze all sulky, do you?”

“Excuse me. I never sulk. I merely sometimes express my dissatisfaction with the world in creative and ladylike ways!” Even Dagatha rolled her eyes at this. Very subtly, of course. “Anyway, are we going or what? The maze! I hear it calling my name!”

“You... don’t mean that literally, do you?” Bariq asked.Vezee gave him her best condescending look, the one Rinouk was intent on learning to copy one day. “One more grouchy word, and we’re leaving you behind to tend to the campsite while we all have fun and get paid for it. And Kastur! Stop muttering about catches! The only catch here is me, I’ll have you know, and”—she leaned briefly against Dagatha’s side—”I’m already off the market!”

[lil-spider]

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 7

Part 6 : Part 8 :

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: Stockholm syndrome is in full play now and pls don’t hate me lol.

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, cheating, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

Many days have passed—about three and a half weeks since Johnny last touched me—and it has been driving me crazy.

We’ve been getting closer, taking nightly walks through the beautiful sunflower field. It became my favourite part of the day. After dinner, he and I would sneak off outside, talking to me about his interests or whatever he did for the day, and I would tell him mine. We chew on sunflower seeds and sit in a run-down car, watching the sunset fade into the night. We’re steadily learning more about each other; on rare occasions, he opens up to me, and during such times, I see him as a broken young man rather than a monster.

But now our walks have ceased, as has the sex. He’s been neglecting me, making me miss his cock and touch. I so desperately want to fuck him. We were having sex almost every day since I arrived, and now, nearly a month of no action has taken a toll on me. I've become increasingly frustrated and exhausted. 

It doesn't help that Nubbins has been pointing out that I look fatter around the stomach and chest, making crude remarks about how full my breasts appear, until Sissy smacks him on the back of the head for his rudeness. He just immaturely blows raspberries at her.

Nubbin's is right. I've noticed that I've gained some weight and that I've become considerably hungrier. Which has me concerned. At dinnertime, I've started eating more, going for seconds unintentionally, impressing everyone at dinner.

Johnny’s ban on leaving the house by himself has been lifted since I arrived; according to Sissy, he has been using his new freedom to drive up town to local bars. I know more meat has been stocked up after his nights out; I only see him bring back supplies or cigarettes; no bodies, thankfully. Most days, I know that he helps Drayton at the gas station. I overheard them one time talking about me working there with one of them. It honestly sounds refreshing to have some new scenery, even if I have to work.

My chores around the house are becoming more routine. Sissy and I spend all of our time together; she's come up with fun things to do, either playing some card games or listening to music on her record player. She’s been great, like a sister I’ve always wanted. We’ve been getting closer as Johnny’s been busy. I even spent time with Bubba outside in the gardens, planting some new flowers as he brought over the heavy soil, with Sissy teaching him. He is like a puppy, exploring his surroundings. I've actually started enjoying myself here, almost forgetting about my old life.

I'm currently lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. It’s peaceful in the early morning. Drayton, whom I've picked up the habit of calling Mr. Sawyer, drove off to the gas station a few minutes ago, waking me up with his grumbling downstairs as he left the house.

I have come to be attuned to the footsteps of everyone. Johnny is very heavy-footed, while Sissy and Nubbins are very quiet. Drayton scatters around while Bubba thunders up the stairs with no care. It helps me figure out what is happening around me.

I’m no longer locked in my room. Being here so long, working, and not bothering to escape has rewarded me with trust, and honestly, I'm not sure if it's even worth trying to leave. I've just adapted to my new environment so well that I don't see a point in leaving. especially since I don't want to disappoint Johnny either.

I’ll do anything to have him inside me again. The more I think about his thick cock,large muscles, and handsome face, the throbbing below increases. I move my hand down, sliding it under my panties, gently placing a finger in my engorged clit, rubbing it in small circles.

I breathlessly moan and pinch my left nipple while imagining Johnny. His cock stood tall as he stroked his hardness, sitting on his bed, waiting for me. I want to lick his throbbing tip and hear his groans. I picture myself sucking him off, taking his whole cock to the back of my throat. I go to climb on top of him, letting his fat cock slide inside me as I start riding him. My hands are on his chest as I bounce. The more I imagine, the faster I rub my clit. I squeeze my thighs together as my orgasm comes quickly. I pull my hand back while sighing in disappointment; it’s not as good. But it does the job.

Feeling a little relieved, I roll over and prepare to get some more sleep until I hear another truck drive up. It’s Johnny's. I lay there, listening to him slam his truck door and loudly enter the house. Like always, he chucks his keys on the kitchen table, but instead of going to his shed, I hear his footsteps go downstairs to the basement.

The familiar sound of the basement door opening and closing spikes my curiosity. He rarely goes to the basement, only if he needs to help Bubba, but it's too early for Bubba to be awake, so I'm desperate to know what he's up to.

I contemplate going, fear of consequences rousing, but my yearning for Johnny runs deeper. I get up off the bed and pull a short black, long-sleeved maxi dress over myself.

Choosing to go barefoot, I carefully open the bedroom door, not to awaken anyone, and cautiously descend the stairs, making my way to the basement. I glide past the red wall displayed with an arrangement of animal skulls. Arriving in front of the basement door, I gently slide it across the opening, leaving just a big enough gap for me to slide in. Leaving it open, I glance around the hellish pit of the household. A red hue cascades over the lair. Its pungent odour, with which I had found it vile, is now somewhat familiar.

I pick up his voice coming from one of the rooms they keep the victims in. I should turn back; it’s not my business, and I could get in trouble for putting my nose where it doesn't belong. Creeping forward, I forget my worries as I develop an itching sensation that can only be relived by finding out what Johnny is doing. Tip-toeing over to the door like a little mouse, I squat near the door and peek through the gaps. The sight before me made me realise I should have never left the bed.

A woman with long, shiny black hair who has her wrists tied behind her back with a zip-tie is crying out while voluntarily riding Johnny’s cock. My fingers dove tightly into my hands as I witnessed Johnny fuck another woman. He grips her shapely hips against him. Thrusting up into her as he lays back on an old, dirty mattress

The unknown woman throws her head back while increasing her moans. Johnny continues his restless pounding. I watch his thick cock slathered in their juices go up and down inside her. Her large chest was bouncing along. She’s moaning Johnny’s name with a sultry voice as she leans over him, pushing her chest into his face.

Mixed emotions take over: arousal, jealousy, and insecurity. I feel so hurt and betrayed, and yet I can’t look away. I’m finally seeing Johnny after so long. I squeeze my thighs together, rubbing them for relief as he moves his right hand off her hip, going between her legs and rubbing her clitoris. Uncontrollable tears leak from my eyes as I cover my mouth, muffling my whimpers.

They change positions; he sits up and pushes her down, sucking on her hard nipples while fucking her into the mattress violently. I’m unable to do anything. I want to snap her fucking neck off. My pussy throbs while embarrassingly soaking my underwear. I just want to shove her away and get fucked by him instead. She’s now obnoxiously yelling about how she's about to cum, and now I want to leave. I can’t watch this anymore. I don’t want to see Johnny finish with her.

I sneak back up the stairs, closing the metal door gently behind me, and rush back upstairs to my room. I go under the sheet and lay on the bed. My clit throbs, but I’m so jealous that I just want to curl up. I start to cry from all these overwhelming emotions, trying to take deep breaths to calm myself. I hug my pillow, biting into it out of utter frustration.

I take deep breaths, trying to calm down. Salty tears and snot drip from my face as I cry into my pillow. We were never together, but it still feels like I was betrayed. I worked so hard to fit in here like he wanted, and he fucks another woman! Is she the first? How many girls has he gone through? Is he going to replace me now? The idea of being replaced makes my chest tighten, and more tears spill out as I become more upset.

Wiping my face with the sleeve of my dress, I decide to go to one person who can give me some answers. To understand what’s going to happen to me. Getting up, I leave my room and go over to Sissy’s. I knock lightly on her door and wait for her while continuing to wipe my tears. 

She opens up with a bright smile, but it falters as she sees my red nose and weeping face. Sissy wraps her thin arms around me, enveloping me. I return the much-needed hugs as she brings me into her room.

“Oh sug', what’s got ya’ all blue?” She pulls me along to sit on her bed as she grabs a tissue, wiping my face.

 

I try to control my words, but I just stutter out what I witnessed in the basement with Johnny. I mention to her, in vague terms, what I saw. "I knew it wasn’t my business, but I got curious as he’s been so busy, but I didn’t expect that!” I exclaimed. 

Sissy nods her head in understanding, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I sniffle. She holds my hands, squeezing them in reassurance. She tells me about how he’s always brought girls home. Goes out to bars and brings them back for the household.

“Ya’ have been the only one that he hasn’t killed; ya’ family, now he ain’t going to replace ya’ pumpkin.” As much as her words comfort you, your feelings don’t go away.

“It’s just.. he’s threatened it about to me before.” I say tearfully as she gets up off the bed and pulls you up with her.

“Don’t ya’ worry, Y/N; he likes ya’ trust me.” She smiles and hugs me again. After our little talk, Sissy and I started our morning chores early. It’s a good distraction, but awful scenarios keep replaying in the back of my mind, and it’s absolutely frustrating.

I hear Johnny coming up from the basement while I'm doing the dishes. I approach him to have a conversation, but he simply takes his keys and walks out the front door, shutting it behind him. His vehicle starts up, and he speeds away from the property. He did not even look at me. The distance between us stings. How cruel, having me live here and putting me through misery simply to neglect me for another woman. I storm into the backyard and start crying uncontrollably, telling Sissy what happened and she tries to console me. She just strokes my head as I cry my emotions into her shoulder.

After my little episode, I spent the majority of my day outside pruning the flowers. Sissy made me some lemonade and went off somewhere; she doesn’t need to babysit me all day anymore, so I spend most of my time outside gardening. It relaxes me. I finish trimming and gather an assortment of flowers for inside to liven up the place.

I returned inside after putting away the gardening equipment. It’s the afternoon, and supper is almost ready. I chose to use an old, empty glass vase I found outdoors in the tool shed to hold the flowers. I go to the kitchen to fill the vase, but just as I'm almost done, I'm startled to see Johnny, still as handsome as ever, grab my shoulder.

"Need ya’ to come with me." He says this, turning away and making his way towards the basement.

[matrixdragon]

Final Fantasy XIV shortfic and shenanigans under the line.

Standing outside her front gate, Nadia West considered the sight before her, feeling a headache coming on. It was not an unfamiliar experience, she had to admit. On far, far too many occasions, she’d discover that her friends (A term she used very loosely at this moment) had done some sort of redecorating, often in a bizarre manner designed to draw a reaction from her.

This time however, the ‘surprise’ couldn’t even wait until she entered the house. The moment she’d teleported to the personal aetheryte point, she’d been greeted by new fences around her property. Fences made of chocolate, with icing running along the top, and ice cream cones serving as fence posts. And beyond that… Her house was made of Gingerbread, with more icing and candy canes to complete the look. She could even see what looked like giant strawberries on the roof.

“Alice,” she sighed at last. “It has to be her. This is entirely in line with her sense of humor.” Sighing again, she went through the front gates, passed around the fountain, and approached the front door, before pausing. To her surprise, the front door was unlocked, and slightly open, and after a moment she realized she could hear voices inside. Familiar voices.

Silently, she moved closer, peeking through the gap, before her eyes widened at the two unfamiliar yet familiar Viera women in rather tight fitting underclothes, both looking over themselves. “Well, you’re still taller,” the purple-haired Viera noted idly as she turned, admiring her reflection in the mirror. “Although the difference isn’t quite as extreme as it used to be.”

“Elezen and Viera are usually similar in size, unlike Miqo’te,” her friend said with a gentle laugh, brushing a strand of green hair back, only to be reminded of how her ears had moved. “And you were always tiny even by those standards.” Satisfied her hair was at least mostly under control, she turned her attention to adjusting clothes for how her proportions had shifted. “Which at least means my clothes will require only minor tailoring. Unlike you.”

Considering the way her blouse and shorts barely managed to contain her, the woman winced. “Yeah, that’s going to be expensive, even if I do most of the work myself.” Running a hand down her waist and over her hips, she raised an eyebrow. “Still, I think the Neo-Ishgard styling will suit me very well now…”

“What in the seven hells?!” Nadia finally managed, catching both womens attention. Opening the door the rest of the way, she stepped into the room and looked between the pair in disbelief. “What did you two do?!”

To her annoyance, the smaller Viera gave her a playful smile that proved it was definitely Alice. “Oh hi Nadia,” she said in a pseudo-innocent tone of voice. “Your house is gingerbread!”

Closing her eyes for a moment, the Hyur made herself take a deep breath. “Yes, I noticed that, thank you, and yes, we’ll get to that in a moment. But I was referring to the fact that both of you are now different species than you were yesterday.”

Alice shrugged, clearly enjoying the fact that Nadia’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the motion. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done this,” she pointed out.

“Ah yes, your Au Ra ‘phase’,” Rivienne laughed.

“Just… why and how? Please?” Nadia begged, feeling the limits of her patience quickly approach.

Taking pity on their friend, Riv guided Nadia to a nearby chair. “The ‘how’ of it is with Fantasia potions, obviously. Nothing else can manage this so flawlessly. It turned out you had several in storage here. As for the why?” At that, the woman couldn’t help but shrug. “After everything we’ve been through lately, it seemed like a bit of harmless fun.”

Nadia stared at her for a moment, processing the fact that the two of them had drunk rare, body-reshaping potions solely for fun. “I think I’m most worried about the fact they were potions in my storeroom,” she said at last. “I don’t remember the last time I organized that. I’m not sure I ever did… There’s crap we salvaged from Tam-tara and Aurum Vale in there! And you just drank it?!”

Folding her arms under her breasts, Alice met the dumbfounded look with a slightly unimpressed one. “Besides the fact both of us have quite a bit of alchemical expertise, the storeroom is actually very well organized. It has to be, with how often I’ve redecorated around here. Did you seriously never notice?”

“The last time I paid serious attention to the storeroom, you’d left a coffin you salvaged off the Void Ark in there!” Nadia shot back. “There was a Namazu hiding in it!”

“...Okay, that’s a fair point,” Alice admitted, blushing, while Rivienne giggled.

Leaning back in her chair, Nadia took a moment to collect her thoughts. “So you turned yourselves into bunnies. Could be worse I suppose. Could be Lopporits."

"We couldn't handle that much fluff," Alice said.

"Also, even Alice would protest being that short," Riv added.

"Oi!"

Snickering at the pout on Alice's face, Nadia looked the pair over. “So, what’s it like?”

“Mostly it’s familiar,” Riv admitted, “although my ears feel odd.”

“It’s because they moved so far,” Alice noted. “Mine don’t feel that different, just longer and I’m oddly aware of it. For me, the issue is my sense of balance is off.” Nadia looked at her friends chest with a deadpan expression. “My tail is gone now!”

The green haired Viera giggled again. “That would count as well, I admit. You were always rather endowed for a Miqo’te, but it’s much more… obvious now.”

“Meany,” Alice said, sticking her tongue out at her friend. “Soooo… Want to join us on the bunny side Nadia? There’s more potions. Come, embrace the fluff…”

“I say this with full awareness of my reputation and track record as the Limsan of the group, but no, I’m not going to drink that.” Smirking, Nadia gestured at her legs. “I’ve put far too much work into perfecting and maintaining this to resort to alchemical assistance now.” Both of the Viera laughed at that, conceding the point. “Still, while I have you here Alice, GINGERBREAD?!” she growled, glaring up at her.

Unfortunately, Alice met the glare with complete unconcern, as was usually the case when she renovated her friends house without telling her. “It looks quite good, doesn’t it?”

Riv raised a hand. “I came up with the color scheme!” she announced.

“Of course you did…”

[themodernmarriage]

How to allow Release

Now that you have a few ideas when to let your husband ejaculate, I will briefly discuss how you let him ejaculate. Like always this is totally up to you as the keyholder, but don’t be afraid to be creative!                                           

During Penis-in-Vagina Sex                                          

 I discourage this one because I feel that sex and ejaculation need to be separated  to avoid accidents. We have sex several times per week and ejaculation  is never expected and rarely a topic of conversation. But if you do  enjoy the feeling of him ejaculating inside you, then you can of course  go ahead and allow him. From there, I put the chastity device  back on and then we either fall asleep together or roll over and watch  TV together.                                           

Blowjobs                                           

Again, whether you want to give him blowjobs is up to you.  Even if you do, you don’t have to keep going until he ejaculates. I  personally don’t really enjoy giving blowjobs. I gave him a lot of them  before we got married, and even swallowed, but after we got married, I  gradually reduced their frequency and limited them to foreplay only.  Since we started chastity, I haven’t given him any nor do I plan to do  so – and I even like to tease him about the fact that he can only blame  himself because he was the one who approached me with the idea of  chastity. On the other hand, I know a woman who will only let her  boyfriend cum when she gives him a blowjob. Her logic is that blowjobs  are his favourite and hence, on the rare occasion that he is allowed  release, she wants to give him maximum pleasure.                                           

Handjobs                                           

This is the main method I use to make my husband cum. You want to  make it about you and not him. It’s no longer his orgasm, it’s your game  – you’ve got control of the joystick and he’s here for your fun. Here are some ideas to spice things up:                                           

Timer                                           

You can allow your husband a certain amount of time, for example, if  his last ejaculation was two weeks ago, you could give him two minutes  to cum. If he doesn’t make it in time, he will be re-locked and you can  tell him with a big grin that he was obviously not horny enough and  should be locked up a bit longer next time. Some women challenge  themselves to make their man cum as quickly as possible, which with a  sufficiently horny man may just take a few seconds! Alternatively, you  could give him a handjob but tell him to last at least a certain amount  of time. If he doesn’t manage to last long enough, he will be “punished”  (you can decide how). You can also combine this with post-orgasm  stimulation, for example you tell him you will stimulate him for ten  minutes, and even if he comes after five you will keep stroking for the  remaining five minutes.                                           

Playful submission                                           

This can be a lot of fun and you can be really creative here. Some ideas:            

Give him a handjob while you are acting extremely bored and reading something on your phone                                           

Do it while he is completely naked and you are not                                    

Tell him to put a condom on before you give him a handjob or blowjob. This also avoids a big mess, so strongly recommended!                           

Tie his hands and blindfold him                                           

Make him please you orally                                           

Make him eat it after he cums                                           

Include the balls                                           

This is something you should probably discuss with your husband  first, but it’s a lot of fun. For example, you could frequently  interrupt your stroking to give his balls a few slaps, or you could  stroke him with one hand while you squeeze his balls with the other one.                 ��                         

Post-orgasm stimulation                                           

This is when you don’t stop stroking after he cums. When a man  orgasms, his glans soon begins feeling extra sensitive and wants to be  left alone. If you keep stroking and rubbing his glans he will be  overwhelmed by the intense feeling. You may need to restrain his hands  before! But don’t worry, what you're doing is completely harmless. I  love the irony that he has been looking forward to a handjob for such a  long time, and now that I’m doing it it’s suddenly “too much”. Too  funny!                                           

Edging                                           

Stimulate your husband until he reaches the edge of orgasm – then  pause or dramatically slow down your play to prevent him from climaxing.  You can do this many times in a row. This is extremely pleasurable for  him, because it prolongs his pleasure and ultimately gives him a much  stronger orgasm when compared to regular sex when you finally decide to  let him pop – although, of course, you can always change your mind and  lock him back up before that happens.                                                                                       

Touchless orgasm / release                                           

This is when you stimulate him until just before the “point of no  return” and then remove your hand and stop all stimulation. If you time  it right, instead of ejaculating in “bursts”, the semen flows  effortlessly down the penis – hence they are also misleadingly called  “ruined” orgasms. If done correctly, he will still be horny afterwards  and will stay hard as a rock, still wanting more, even though he just  ejaculated. Touchless orgasms are great when you want to give him an  orgasm but still leave him horny when you lock him back up. Or, if you  plan to have an all-night love-making session but you are afraid that he  will cum to quickly, you can start your evening with a touchless  orgasm. I found this great article explaining why a touchless orgasm means prolonged pleasure for both of you and how to do it (contains explicit pictures!) – some quotes below:                                           

“The so-called “ruined” orgasm is one of the most intensely  pleasurable, toe-curling, sweat-inducing, back-arching, fist-clenching,  teeth-gnashing, brain-bending tricks you can use in the bedroom to drive  your man into an animal sexual frenzy.  It is also perhaps the least  understood and most underused method of extending and delivering  pleasure to both partners. If you can master this you will feel more  empowered and satisfied than ever. I promise!!! (…) The Name Is  Misleading: It’s Still an Orgasm! (…) A properly ruined orgasm is STILL  potentially more intense than a normal orgasm!   It’s not “ruined” at  all!  It feels profoundly different to him, but it still feels great –  especially if you use it as a tool to extend your lovemaking! (…) Don’t  feel bad about ruining your man’s orgasm!!! I simply cannot say it  enough.”   

 “Whereas a normal orgasm causes him to go limp and enter what  doctors call the “refractory period” where he is no longer motivated to  have sex, a ruined orgasm has the opposite effect – it causes him to  stay hard, fully aroused, hyper-energized, and HIGHLY motivated to have  sex. (…) But that’s not all. (…)  Simply put… a man who’s been ruined  once or twice (or more!) in a single night can fuck you harder and  longer than you ever thought possible. (…) Basically, a ruined orgasm  (or three) multiplies his sexual endurance for the rest of the night,  without reducing his desire. In fact, it amplifies his desire, because  he gets to experience a higher pleasure plateau than he would normally  be capable of experiencing!”                                           

“To bend your man’s brain and give him truly epic ruined orgasms,  you need to know his body very, very well.  You need to study his  specific sequence of escalating physical pleasure signals, to identify  the first possible moment in the sequence where you can let go and cause  him to still cascade through climax.  Arched back, tensed muscles,  grunts, whimpers, pulsing cock, retracted balls – every man has his  signals. (…) Instead of letting go “at the last second” you actually  want to let go as early as possible. You want him to hang, untouched, on  the verge of climax, for as long as physically possible, before his  body reflexively sends him over.  Do it correctly, and his cum should  just dribble out, under weak contractions. (…) With good communication,  you can find the perfect timing together, by working your way  “backwards” from the moment of his orgasm.  Start by having him tell  you, out loud, when he hits what he believes to be his point-of-no-return.” 

“Back off at exactly that moment. (…) However, men always misjudge their own point-of-no-return. (…) In order to find his true point-of-no-return, you need to study the cascade of physical reactions happening in his body in the precious seconds before he calls  “stop.”  Then, night after night, progressively work your way backward  through that cascade, stopping sooner and sooner, on your own (without  him telling you when to “stop”), until you find the point where he doesn’t climax at all.  Then, night after night, slowly and very carefully work your way forward again, until you find the point where he  lingers for 5 to 15 seconds, untouched, before leaking uncontrollably.  (…) Basically the power of his “cumshot” is a clue to help you know if  you’re doing it right (weaker is better) (…) Another huge clue that  you’re “doing it right” will be in his refractory period – or lack of  one.  After a typical good ruined orgasm, his cock should not “wilt” at  all.  He should stay aroused, erect, and eager for more action.”                                           

“Please don’t let your hard work go to waste by feeling like you  have to give him a normal orgasm eventually, don't give in to a sense of  guilt!!!. That will just cut your night short. (…) I allow him to have  orgasms, but he can only have them on my terms.  That means… when I want  him to have a “normal” orgasm, I give him a “normal” orgasm.  The rest  of the time?  I either tease and deny him, or I ruin him.  He never  knows what I plan to do until I do it. (…) I can choose to “finish” him.   Or I can choose to “ruin” him.  He gives that choice to me, willingly,  lovingly, every time.  It is his love letter to me – the single  greatest gift he is physically capable of offering – and I cherish it.  I  respect it.  I handle it with utmost love and care.  And it makes me a  fuller, more confident, more satisfied, happier woman.  It makes our  marriage stronger, and I adore him for it. I would also like to point  out that once I mastered the ruined orgasm my husband is actually more  disappointed with a normal orgasm because of his refractory period. It  may sound counter-intuitive but a normal orgasm is actually the outcome  he likes the least, despite it being the thing he craves most  desperately when his "primitive horny brain" is in charge.”                                           

Keep him guessing.

Every single time you touch his penis, he should never know if you intend to edge him, ruin him, or give  him a full orgasm.  Lie to him.  Tell him you’re going to stop, then  don’t.  Or tell him you’re going to ruin him, then give him a full  orgasm. Or congratulate him on the orgasm you’re about to give him, then  “change your mind” and stop for the night.  This only works if you also  sometimes tell the truth.                                           

Masturbation                                           

Some women don’t like their man touching himself down there, either  because they find his masturbation unattractive or because they want him  to “forget” how to do it. But other women like letting him masturbate  as they like to watch or because they are feeling a bit lazy and don’t  want to lift a finger themselves. In any case I would discourage you  from allowing him to masturbate when he is alone (for example, sending  him to the bathroom for a quick wank); instead, he should always do it  in your presence. Also, if you allow him to masturbate, there should be a time limit (never more than a few minutes) so you can make sure he only cums when is very horny.                                           

https://happy-marriage.neocities.org/