#please ignore my not so great handwriting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

navybrat817 · 4 months ago

Text

Hold You Tight: Part 5

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 4 | Series Masterlist | Part 6

Chapter Summary: You talk to Addison, but may have dug a deeper hole for yourself. Bucky has a chat with you, too.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon phone sex, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, reader is trying to stay calm, needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. It never rang that early, minus the occasional call from the shop to see if you could go in early. With a groan, you opened your eyes halfway to glance at the device. You closed them when your vision cleared to read the name.

Bucky.

“Mmm. Too early for that,” you mumbled, rolling over to hug your pillow as the call went to voicemail.

He messaged you after you told him you had plans for the night, but you didn't read it. In fact, you hadn't glanced at your phone for the remainder of the evening after you got ready for bed. You only knew of the messages since your phone kept digging. You went through the rest of your normal routine and fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. The date took a lot out of you.

Was it a good idea to ignore him though? This was a man used to getting what he wanted and for things to be done his way. There was a chance he wouldn't take you not responding to him well. Well, if he “cared” about you the way he claimed, he’d have to deal with it. Besides, it hadn't even been half a day since you spoke to him.

You bolted upright at the knock on the apartment door. “What the hell?” You whispered, pushing the covers back. Forcing yourself out of bed, you threw on your robe before you went to answer it. Your heart thudded as you looked through the peephole, half expecting to see Bucky on the other side. Your shoulders relaxed when you didn’t see anyone, but you only opened the door a crack.

A familiar scent filled your nostrils as you opened it more. It reminded you of the bakery you liked to visit once a week. Homey, warm, comforting. But your stomach turned when you spotted the bag since you hadn’t ordered anything.

Glancing down each side of the hall to make sure no one was there, you snatched up the bag and locked your door. Your lip wobbled when you looked inside and saw the note on top of the container. It matched the handwriting from the note in your bedroom.

“Most important meal of the day. Enjoy.”

You had half a mind to throw it out, but your grumbling stomach protested. It was your usual when you stopped into that bakery and for good reason since it was delicious. It should’ve been a nice gesture. It should’ve put a smile on your face. But how could it be when Bucky didn’t learn those things about you naturally?

The doorbell rang again as you got to the table, your heart jolting from the sound and the bag dropping to the surface. “Get a grip,” you whispered, going back to the door. Maybe Bucky could send you to a spa so you could try to relax. Not that you would ask him. He wasn’t your boyfriend.

Didn’t matter how rich he was.

You looked through the peephole again, smiling when you saw Addison on the other side. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her caffeine likely kicking in already. “Hey,” you greeted her when you opened the door.

“Hey yourself!” Addison smiled, pulling you in for a hug. She raised an eyebrow as she stepped back and took a good look at you. “How are you?”

“I’m great. Never better,” you tried to smile, stepping aside so she could go in. Guilt crept in from not being honest with a simple question. You weren't great at all. “Is everything okay?”

“Yep. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to stop by so early, that’s all," you replied, double checking the lock on the door.

“I thought I’d swing by to check on you before I went to work. I didn't hear from you after I texted you and you’re usually really great about texting me back, so I wasn't sure if you were upset that we had to reschedule our plans or if something else was going on.” She paused when your face fell. You were so busy ignoring Bucky that you forgot to reply to her. “Maybe upset isn’t the right word, but bummed? I know we haven’t had much girl time lately outside of my wedding stuff.”

“I'm so sorry. I’m not upset. Last night just got away from me,” you assured her. “Bummed, I’ll give you that.” You added teasingly.

“Are you sure? I feel bad for bailing.”

“Please, don't,” you said. She had no reason to feel bad. “You get to go to The Terrace tonight, which is amazing. I don’t blame you at all for rescheduling.”

Brady was not only a nice guy and a hard worker, but he practically worshiped the ground Addison walked on. He would spoil her rotten if he could. He just wanted to make her happy and she wanted the same for him. It was the kind of relationship you admired.

Addison nudged you with a smile. “Have I told you how awesome you are? And right? I couldn’t believe it when Brady told me. It’s The Terrace!”

“You two will have a great time.” You said, leading her to the table so you didn't have to linger by the door. They deserved a nice night out. “Okay, I’m being nosy, but did he happen to say how he got the reservation? I mean, they’re usually pretty booked.”

“So, listen to this,” she began as she sat down. She had your full attention. “His new boss pulled him into his office yesterday and told him what a great job he’s been doing. Gave him a bonus and everything for all his hard work and said to celebrate by taking me out for dinner at a place of his choosing. He said ‘The Terrace’ thinking there’s no possible way, right?”

“Right,” You said, taking the food out of the bag and being careful to not let her see the note. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks. I ate before I left, but that looks amazing,” she said before she continued. “Two phone calls later, there was a table booked for us! I think he was a little embarrassed when he told me since someone else technically pulled some strings for him, but I don’t care. He works his ass off and it’s about time it was recognized.”

“I agree,” you said, replaying the words in your mind. “Wait, did you say new boss?”

“Yeah, just started a couple of weeks ago. Kind of surprised Brady since his old boss still had a year or so left, but he took early retirement. And the new boss takes his job pretty seriously, but seems like a good guy from what I’ve heard.”

You swallowed heavily. “What… What’s his name? The new boss?”

Addison’s brows furrowed as you picked at the food. “I think his name is Nick. Why?”

Your next breath was much easier. Bucky was making you paranoid in all aspects of life. “No reason. I just think that’s really nice of him,” you smiled.

Your friend didn’t look convinced for a moment. “You sounded and looked really weird when you asked.”

“Just hungry. You know how I get,” you said, forcing yourself to take a bite.

She raised an eyebrow before she shrugged. “At least you don’t get hangry like Dana,” she teased. “But yes! It was nice of him. It’s a great way to support employees.” Her eyes lit up before she smacked the table. “Ooh! I should ask if he’s single.”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that, please,” you begged. The last thing you needed to deal with was pulling an innocent man into whatever was going on with you and Bucky.

“Why not? We need to find you a man and he’s good looking. Or you know what? I think one of the groomsmen might also be single now. Maybe we could set you up with him?”

“No, Addison,” you said, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you when she had no idea what had transpired in your life over the last couple of days.

Your friend sank back in her chair, her previous excitement gone. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you said, putting another bite of food into your mouth in the hopes that you’d keep more words from tumbling out. It wasn’t good to keep it bottled up, but a powerful man had threatened her. Your best friend.

“Oh, yeah? Then give me a good reason why I shouldn’t set you up with someone. Just one,” she challenged.

“Okay, fine.” Bucky’s face shimmered in your mind as you said, “It isn't set in stone, but I may have a date for the wedding. Maybe.”

You shifted in your seat, wishing you didn’t say that. It was the only thing that could possibly stop Addison from setting you up with someone else. Pulling anyone else into whatever game Bucky was playing wasn’t a smart move. Not until you could figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

Addison's eyes went wide as she sat up and swatted at your arm. “Oh, my God! You’re asking about The Terrace when you buried the lead?! No wonder you’ve been off this morning! Tell me everything!”

“There isn't much to tell really, but…” Your heart sank as your friend literally moved to the edge of her seat, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and happiness. “He's handsome. Successful. Headstrong. Likes to read in his spare time. And for some reason, he really seems to like me.”

“Ahh! This is amazing. You're really growing out of your shell. I'm so proud of you.” Addison nearly knocked you out of your chair when she launched at you and hugged you tight. “And what do you mean he likes you ‘for some reason’? You’re a fucking goddess, okay? Say it. Say ‘I’m a fucking goddess’.”

“You’re a fucking goddess,” you joked, giggling when she hugged you tighter. “Okay, okay. I’m a fucking goddess. Let me breathe, please.”

“Yeah, you are.” She pulled back to take a seat again, a wide smile still on her face. “This is amazing news. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Well, I'm sure everyone will love him,” you said. And you had no doubt they would. Something told you he would be the perfect charmer, telling everyone what they wanted to hear and showing them what they wanted to see. As well as being a doting boyfriend.

“If you like him then he must be great.”

“Yeah,” you said. You probably would’ve liked Bucky if things played out differently. “And you're sure he can go? I understand if he can't and I'm sure he would, too, since the wedding is just around the corner and it’s still so new.”

“Of course, he can go. Everyone is going to be thrilled.” She took one of your hands when you looked in your lap. You didn’t want to look up in case tears sprang to your eyes. “Hey. You’ve been the bridesmaid long enough. It’s about time you meet someone who finally makes you the bride.”

Tears filled your eyes anyway, but you blinked them away. If Bucky had his way, you’d be his bride soon enough. “Listen. Addison-”

“Shit, I gotta go before I’m late. I’m so sorry.” She grabbed her bag as she stood up and gave you one last hug. She was in such a hurry that she thankfully didn’t catch your misty gaze. It was better that way. “Text me, okay? We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“And I won’t say anything to the rest of the girls until you do,” she promised, rushing to the door. “Seriously, so happy for you!”

“Thanks. I appreciate that,” you called after her. “Have fun tonight!”

“I will! Love you!”

The door shut, leaving you alone and in silence. You placed your head on the table with a groan. You were an idiot. No, that was cruel to think about yourself. You just felt cornered and reacted accordingly. And now you had to bring Bucky to the wedding, which was what he wanted.

What have I gotten myself into?

You lifted your head after a minute to finish your breakfast. As much as you wanted to lay about all day, you had to be productive. Plus you had to look at your phone eventually. You wondered how many more times Bucky messaged you. You also wondered if there were any stories or articles about him online.

Would snooping make things better or worse?

Making sure your front door was locked, you finally went to retrieve your phone. Stretching out on your bed, you picked up the phone and swiped until you got to Bucky’s messages. You scrolled through to the last one you sent, when you told him you had plans.

“You have plans? They really want to meet you.”

“I can still bring the dress over if you want. Just in case.”

“Already thinking about our second date. I want to make it special. I never want to stop wooing you.”

“Sweet dreams. Wish you were here so I could hold you.”

Your heart sank as you kept reading them, the words blurring together on the screen.

“Having a hard time sleeping since you haven’t answered me. I hope you're okay.”

“Maybe I should get you a new phone.”

“Ignoring me, Kotyonok? Playing hard to get?”

The last message came through a minute ago.

“Should I just come over and check on you?”

Your heart jumped to your throat as you typed out a message. What were the chances of him showing up if you didn’t respond? It was better not to risk it. You had ignored him enough. “Sorry, Bucky. I’m not glued to my phone and I crashed last night after our date. Thanks for sending breakfast over. That was a surprise.”

It wasn’t the end of the conversation, of course. “It’s okay. Just worries me when I don’t hear from you.” As if he had the right to worry about you when he caused you worry to begin with. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You went to set your phone down, but saw more dots on the screen. “You sure I can’t see you tonight? The guys are really eager to meet you. I want you to meet them, too.”

Reading that made your stomach roll. Would they be like Ray? Complicit? “I told you I have plans. I’m sorry. Maybe another time.”

Another message popped up almost immediately. “Which one do you like better?”

Two images of Bucky appeared after the text. He stood with confidence in front of a sleek sink that you could only assume was in his bathroom. The pictures were nearly identical, minus the fact that the first image had him in a dark green jacket and the second had him in blue. But that wasn’t what made your next breath shaky.

He stared right into the mirror, the lens capturing his gaze so that it penetrated the screen. He seemed to be looking right at you. Unflinching. Unwavering.

Your fingers shook as you typed back to him. “The blue. It brings out your eyes.”

Your phone rang a second later. Now he was calling. You let it ring for a bit longer before you answered. “Hello?”

“Morning, Kotyonok.” He purred on the other end. “Hope I'm not bothering you. I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Morning.” When has a man ever called just to hear you speak? “Not sure why you need to hear it. I don’t think my voice is nice to listen to,” you said.

He chuckled. “You have a beautiful voice. I could listen to you talk all day.” Your cheeks flamed. He knew how to lay it on thick. “You’re right about the jacket. The blue is the better choice. And it’ll be a lot easier to get your opinion once we’re living together.”

You shut your eyes and counted to three. “So, you’re still convinced I’m going to live with you?”

“Before the end of the month. My promise to you.”

“We’ll see,” you said, blaming your lack of wit on your lack of caffeine.

There was some shuffling in the background that you could only make out since you went quiet. “Excited to meet my friends tonight?”

“I’m not meeting them tonight. I told you more than once that I have plans,” you reiterated. You weren't budging on that, even if all you’d do was curl up with a book. He didn't have to know.

He chuckled again, like he knew a secret you didn't. “That’s right. You did tell me that.” It was strange that he didn't ask what your plans were. “Are you ready for the day? Or are you still not dressed?”

Your eyes flickered around the room. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t see you. It was fine. “I still need to shower and get ready,” you said.

He hummed. “The shower here is nice. You’ll love the tub here, too. Has plenty of room for both of us.”

“Bucky-”

“It’s perfect for me to fuck you in it.” His voice was rougher and you thought you heard him incorrectly. “I dreamt about that last night. Bouncing you up and down on my cock as your cries filled the room, the water splashing around us. Sounded so fucking pretty.”

Your mouth fell open when you heard more shuffling. And moaning. A deep, hungry moan. “What are you…” Was he… Was he touching himself as he spoke to you? Jerking off? No. He couldn’t be. “Bucky, I’m-”

“I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, Kotyonok,” he rasped, his breathing heavier. So was yours. “Say it.”

You bit your tongue. You didn’t want to say it or hear any of this. It was filthy. Wrong. But you obeyed anyway. “Bucky,” you whispered.

The next sound he let out was something you could only describe as pornographic. “I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.” You rubbed your thighs together and ignored the heat in your body. It was a natural reaction. Fear. It had to be. “Talk to me. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

“I…” Your eyes squeezed shut, your chest lightly heaving. Dread gripped you and you didn’t know what to say. “I can’t.”

“Oh, I’ve imagined that, too. Telling me you can’t take my cock. That it’s too big. Too much.” He panted and something told you to keep listening instead of hanging up on him. “You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”

You covered your mouth, afraid of whatever sound would come out as his heavy breathing persisted in your ear. You could almost imagine him pinning you down with his weight, taking you apart. Making you say his name. Spilling inside you as he said yours.

Bucky said he wasn't a monster. That he wouldn't hurt you. But what was he going to do to you?

“Fuck, you’ll look so gorgeous when I…” Bucky trailed off, all sounds of pleasure on his end coming to a halt. “For fuck’s sake, what?! What is so fucking important right now?!”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, your heart pounding. You thought you heard Ray in the background, but couldn’t be sure. “I-I should probably go,” you said, grateful for the interruption.

“I understand, Ray. Just give me a fucking second.” Bucky exhaled before he spoke again. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t want to go, but I have to.”

His tone was much gentler since it was directed back at you. “So do I. I need to shower,” you said. To wash off whatever just transpired even though he didn't touch you.

“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.” You heard the smile in his voice and fought the urge to get sick. “Have a good day, okay? We’ll finish this later. I promise.”

You tossed your phone away and sat up, your hands gripping the sheets as you inhaled and exhaled. Did that really just happen? One-sided phone sex or whatever the hell it was? The sounds of his moans rang in your ears. Thankfully the heat was no longer spreading through your body.

This wasn't your fault.

But you could’ve yelled for him to stop. You could’ve hung up. You didn’t do either of those things. Could've, would've, should've.

Where was your fire?

“It’s fine,” you whispered, biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “I’m fine. This is all going to be fine.”

You refused to be anything other than fine. And he wasn’t at your place, so you were safe and sound, right? You had to be.

Lying to yourself didn't make you feel any better. It didn’t stop you from rushing to the toilet when you dry heaved. And it didn't stop you from wondering when he’d finish what he started over the phone.

Bucky continues to leave an impression, doesn't he? And he's convinced you're going to see his friends, isn't he? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

823 notes · View notes

iamgonnagetyouback · 15 days ago

Note

Oh my- I loved your Regulus x Crouch!Reader so much 😭😭

Can you do one of Sirius meeting/discovering Reg is dating Barty's twin sister. Maybe with Barty being dramatic again, 'cause him being a Drama Queen when it comes to their relationship is perfect 💖

(We can pretend the Black brothers have a good relationship, please?)

regulus black x crouch!reader where you both are soulmates but aren't just made for each other (atleast according to sirius and barty)

It was a perfect afternoon by the Black Lake, with Regulus lying in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair, content and peaceful. His eyes were closed, and he looked utterly at ease, which wasn’t something you often saw in Regulus Black. You were both so relaxed that the shuffle of footsteps didn’t even register at first—until a small, trembling Hufflepuff first-year appeared before you, looking as though he’d just delivered his own death sentence.

The boy gulped, holding out a folded piece of parchment. “Um, f-for you,” he stammered, and before you could thank him, he scurried off like a bat out of the Forbidden Forest.

With a sigh, you unfolded the note. Sure enough, in Barty’s unmistakable handwriting, it read: 5 PM. My dorm.

You rolled your eyes, showing it to Regulus, who gave you an amused, knowing look. “Looks like it’s time for another lecture,” he murmured, smirking as he took your hand to help you up. “Shall we?”

As soon as you reached Barty’s dorm room, you were greeted by the sight of Barty and Sirius standing in front like two dueling professors, each radiating pure drama. Remus and Evan sat on the bed with their arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed, but still showing up for moral support.

“Ah,” Barty said, clearing his throat and holding up an invisible microphone with great importance, “Lady and gentleman, you’ve arrived. Welcome.”

Before you could reply, Sirius charged toward you and Regulus, hands in his hair. “My little brother,” he cried, grabbing Regulus by the shoulders with a look of exaggerated horror. “Of all the people—my baby brother!”

“Calm down, Black!” Barty held out his hand in a grand, theatrical gesture. “Let’s handle this like the mature adults we are.”

“Right,” Sirius huffed, trying to regain some dignity as he nodded solemnly. “Like adults.”

Evan coughed, muttering something suspiciously like, “Since when are either of you adults?” but Barty ignored him.

“Now, for the purpose of today’s meeting,” Barty began, bringing the invisible mic to his mouth, “we are here to discuss the… situation.” He said the word like he was addressing a crime scene. “The subject of this meeting is none other than Regulus Arcturus Black and my dearest, beloved sister,” he announced dramatically. “Today, we will weigh the pros and cons of this outrageous relationship.”

Sirius nodded, looking proud. “Brilliant. Let’s proceed.”

You and Regulus shared a look, rolling your eyes in perfect sync, but Barty and Sirius either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

“Pro number one,” Barty started, glancing down at a real, honest-to-Merlin list he’d scribbled out on a piece of parchment. “They are… academically compatible.”

Remus snorted, looking over Barty’s shoulder. “Barty, that’s barely a pro.”

“Excuse me, Remus,” Sirius cut in, waving his hand dismissively. “This is serious business. Real feelings are at stake.”

“Right,” Remus sighed, crossing his arms again. “My bad.”

Barty grinned proudly, moving on to the cons. “Con number one: Regulus is too punctual.”

Sirius gasped as if struck by a life-changing revelation. “Yes! And I hate to admit it, but that’s seriously unhealthy.”

Remus raised a brow. “But I’m punctual too—”

Sirius shot him a deadly glare. “Shush, Moony. You’re perfect.”

“Right,” Remus muttered dryly, sharing a look with Evan, who looked like he was barely holding back laughter.

“Con number two,” Barty continued, “Regulus never smiles.”

“True,” Sirius agreed, snapping his fingers. “It’s like he��s permanently moody! Bad influence material!”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Sirius ignored him, turning to Barty with a look of serious concern. “Barty, your sister deserves someone who smiles. Often. Like… Peter!”

Barty blinked, horrified. “Peter?” He shivered. “Let’s not get too carried away, Black.”

“Right, right,” Sirius agreed, looking relieved as he flipped to another page of their scribbled list. “Anyway. Pro number two: Regulus is, regrettably, very intelligent.”

“Thank you,” Regulus muttered.

“BUT,” Barty interrupted dramatically, “he’s also suspiciously quiet. This is concerning.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus, as if the quietness itself was a crime.

“Con number three!” Sirius interjected. “Regulus is obsessed with the stars. And he’ll probably try to convince you they’re interesting!”

Remus and Evan gave up all pretense and just rolled their eyes, sharing an exasperated glance that was almost affectionate.

“And what is wrong with astronomy?” Regulus asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Everything, dear brother!” Sirius cried, clutching his invisible microphone. “Absolutely everything!” (please don't stress on the fact that sirius loved astronomy)

They continued on with their ridiculous pros and cons, listing everything from “too fond of black clothing” to “a penchant for reading way too much.” Meanwhile, you and Regulus exchanged more eye-rolls and smirks, trying to keep straight faces as the list got more absurd.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Barty concluded the presentation, tossing down his parchment. “So, as you can clearly see, this relationship is just—”

“—a disaster waiting to happen,” Sirius finished solemnly.

Evan sighed, leaning toward Remus. “Are we actually done here?”

Remus shrugged. “If we’re lucky.”

Before either Barty or Sirius could launch into a closing speech, you finally decided you’d had enough. “Thank you both for your… input.” You gave them a sweet, exaggerated smile. “I’ll be sure to let you know if we need any more valuable insight.”

“Exactly,” Regulus agreed, deadpan. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sirius looked briefly wounded before turning to Barty. “Do you think they took this seriously?”

“Not in the slightest,” Barty replied, looking scandalized.

With a huff, he turned on his heel, marching toward the door with Sirius trailing behind, muttering about how they’d “try again later” if you didn’t break up on your own. As they disappeared into the corridor, Evan and Remus finally broke, bursting into laughter that echoed through the dorm.

Remus clapped a hand on your shoulder, still chuckling. “You know, I’m almost sad to see them go.”

Evan smirked, folding his arms. “Next time, maybe we’ll make a pros and cons list on them.”

Regulus’ lips twitched in a rare smile as he pulled you closer. “Now that’s a study session I’d love to attend.”

thank you so much for requesting, love! i had so much fun writing this 💕

#regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus black #reggie black #ivy's soft scribbles ೀ

155 notes · View notes

lupinmoonlight · 5 months ago

Text

No thoughts. Just Remus.

Masterlist AO3

Summary - You and Remus can't get enough of each other. Obviously, he ends up bending you over his desk in his quarters, incidentally taking your virginity. As Remus walks you back to your common room, you walk into Professor McGonagall, who seems to know too much, but decides to ignore it for her own sanity. Back in his quarters, Remus makes a mortifying discovery when a familiar someone pops up in his fireplace (2,341 words). Warnings - teacher/student relationship, desk sex, getting caught, marking, my grammar, loss of virginity, smut, not proof-read, english isn't my first language. Notes - Hey guys, it's me from the depths of academia. I am traveling for a conference tomorrow. I have to drive 3h, yet here I am writing smut. I just really had to get this silly little scenario out of my head. I don't even know what this is. I just had to write it. I love the idea of Remus wearing a bathrobe with his initials on it lol.

A soft flurry of wings caught your attention as you sat in the Great Hall, desperately trying to focus on that stupid Potions essay, and tiny owl swooped down, a small rolled parchment clutched in its talon. The note was short and to the point: "My quarters. Now."

The elegant handwriting that you recognized as Remus' sent a delicious shiver down your spine. It was unlike your usual, careful exchanges. This didn't feel like just another stolen moment; this was him throwing caution to the wind, and you were more than happy to indulge.

You looked around, making sure no one noticed, and then bolted up from your seat. Professor Lupin's quarters. Now.

Reaching his door, you barely rapped your knuckles against it before the door flew open, revealing a tense Remus. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you inside with surprising force. He slammed the door shut with his foot and warded it with a quick flick of his wand.

"Remus-" you began, but before you could finish, you were lifted from the floor, Remus' lips crashing against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. He carried you over to his desk, parchment and quills scattering to the floor as he set you down, never breaking the kiss. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back as your body arched instinctively into his.

Remus groaned into the kiss as your legs hooked around his waist. He pulled away slightly, both of you out of breath, and whispered against your lips, "I can't get enough of you."

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping at the soft skin there. You let out a needy whimper, a sound that undid him completely. He felt a primal, possessive need to make you his. The urgency of his movements surprised you. He was always so reverent, only allowing a few pecks here and there, a lingering touch. But now, he was devouring you, and it was all you wanted. No thoughts. Just Remus.

"Remus," you whispered.

"Y/N," he responded, his voice deep and husky. "I need you. Now"

You could feel the heat radiating off him, the hard ridge of his length pressing against you through your clothes.

"Please, Remus. Please," you pleaded in a shaky breath. "Please."

That plea shattered any self-control Remus had been clinging to. With a ragged breath, he pulled back and spun you around, pressing you against the wooden surface of the desk. He fumbled with your clothes, desperate and impatient, his hands undoing just enough of your clothing to give you what you both craved. He positioned himself, and with a deep breath, he entered you, drawing a gasping moan from both of you.

You pushed back against him, your fingers digging into the desk. "Remus…"

His name on your lips sent him into a frenzy. He moved with a desperate intensity, every thrust forcing you to raise yourself on your tiptoes, to try and keep up with him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, and he leaned over you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to stifle a moan.

"You feel so good," he groaned. "I can't… I can't hold back."

"Don't," you gasped. "Please, Remus. Don't stop."

He growled low in his throat, his movements becoming even more urgent. The desk creaked under your combined weight, but neither of you cared. All that mattered was the overwhelming need to be as close to each other as possible.

His grip on your hips tightened, his movements growing more forceful. You cried out as you reached your peak, your body shuddering with the force of your climax. Remus followed moments later, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he spilled himself inside you, holding you tightly against him.

He stayed like that for a moment, breathing heavily. Slowly, he pulled back, helping you off the desk and turning you around to face him. He kissed you gently this time, the urgency replaced by tenderness.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, a blissful smile on your lips. "More than alright."

Remus tried to regain his composure slightly, though both of you were sweaty and disheveled. He made a futile attempt to adjust your clothes, but there was no use. They were ruined and you both knew it. His gaze drifted downwards, noticing the result of your encounter trickling down to the floor from you.

"Looks like I made a bit of a mess there," he mumbled, a sheepish blush creeping up his neck.

"Well, Professor, who would have thought such a composed man could be so… messy?"

A genuine laugh escaped him. "The blame, my dear, falls squarely on you. You're impossible to resist."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss, and with a gentle hand on your back, guided you towards the bathroom.

Once there, you started peeling off the clothes that had survived your encounter, but Remus stopped you with a soft touch. "Let me," he murmured.

He took his time, his touch tender and reverent as he cleaned you up. His fingers traced the love bites and flushed skin that marked his claim on you. He placed soft kisses on them, as if sealing his love into you.

When he finished, he wrapped you into his large dressing gown. It engulfed you in his scent, a comforting mix of cinnamon, wood polish, and something distinctly him. You perched on a small stool, stealing glances at him as he cleaned himself with a quiet efficiency.

After drying himself off, Remus offered his hand to help you up. "Come on, let's get you comfortable."

You took his hand, and he led you back to the main room. He fetched a blanket and laid it out on the couch, guiding you to sit down. "Rest here for a bit, you don't have to go back just now," he said, tucking the blanket around you and pulling you back against him.

As you settled into a comfortable silence, a memory jolted Remus. "Accio," he murmured, and a small vial materialized in his hand. "Contraceptive," the label read.

"Here," he said, offering it to you. "It's best to be safe."

You looked up at him, taken aback. "Where did you get this? Not Professor Snape-"

Remus gave a nervous laugh, a flicker of worry crossing his features. "Sirius," he admitted. "He sent it with a rather cryptic message about 'precautions.'"

Your face turned crimson with mortification. "Oh God. He did?"

Remus nodded, trying to hide his amusement. "Yes. But it's important. Please, drink it."

The thought of your uncle anticipating your secret encounter was almost too much to bear. You downed the potion in one go, shuddering and grimacing at the bitter taste.

"Good girl," Remus murmured, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head.

"Uncle Sirius knows, then? About…" you trailed off.

Remus hesitated for a moment before nodding. "He know there's something between us. He's not blind," he explained, referring to the summer you had spent together at Grimmauld Place, stealing glances at each other like a bunch of teenagers.

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. "This is so embarrassing. Please, promise me you won't tell him about what just happened."

Remus chuckled, stroking your hair reassuringly. "I promise. Your safety, and Sirius' sanity, are worth more than anything."

You lifted your head slightly, your gaze flickering up at him. "Was that your first time?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. Despite the lingering blush on your cheeks, there was a playfulness in your eyes that sent a jolt through Remus.

He let out a surprised chuckle. The question, though somewhat innocent, was unexpected. "Merlin, Y/N," he said, a touch of amusement in his voice. "No, it wasn't. I'm rather ancient, you see."

You feigned offense with a playful shrug. "Well, excuse me Professor," you teased. "Just trying to gauge the competition."

Taking a deep breath, you confessed, "Actually, that was my first time."

Remus' smile faltered, replaced by a wave of guilt that washed over him. "You should have told me," he said, his voice low and serious. The image of your hurried encounter flashed before his eyes, and a pang of regret stabbed at him.

"Why?" you countered, tilting your head in genuine confusion.

"Because," he began, "your first time shouldn't have been… like that. Bent over a desk, rushed, with barely a moment to breathe."

Your response surprised him. A soft giggle escaped your lips. "Actually, Remus," you admitted, "that's always been a bit of a fantasy of mine. A little forbidden, a little…messy."

A blush crept up Remus' neck at your words, a nervous chuckle escaping him.

"And perhaps," you continued, "next time you can show me properly."

Remus' breath caught at your suggestion, and he tried to remain casual and unaffected but failed miserably. "I, uh, well… yes, of course," he stammered. "Whenever you're ready."

You giggled again, enjoying the sight of his flustered state.

A sudden jolt of panic shot through Remus as he glanced at the clock. It was well past curfew. "Merlin's beard," he muttered, "I need to walk you back to your common room before anyone notices you're missing."

You nodded, reluctantly getting up. You were still clad in Remus' dressing gown, your clothes crumpled in a ball clutched in your hands. The large "R.J.L" embroidered letters on the chest were impossible to miss.

You stepped out of Remus' quarters, trying to appear as casual as possible, only to turn a corner and find yourselves face-to-face with Professor McGonagall.

You froze, your smile vanishing faster than a puff of smoke. your eyes wide with shock. McGonagall's sharp gaze swept over you both, taking in the sight of you in Remus' robe, your hair damp and slightly mussed, and landing finally on Remus himself.

The silence stretched, and you braced yourself for McGonagall scathing reprimand.

"Miss Black," McGonagall began, her tone questioning but laced with the knowledge of what was clearly going on. "What are you doing out of your common room so late, and why are you wearing Professor Lupin's robe?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Remus stepped in, a charming, albeit slightly panicked smile plastered on his face.

"Professor, I was just on my way to accompany Miss Black back to her common room," he said smoothly. "She had a bit of an accident in the Potions classroom earlier and got some ingredients on her clothes. She came to my office for help cleaning up, and I lent her my robe to wear in the meantime."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but unable to challenge the story outright without more proof.

“I see. Well, Professor Lupin, I trust you will ensure Miss Black returns safely to her common room?”

“Absolutely, Minerva,” Remus replied, his voice steady. “I was just about to do that.”

McGonagall studied you both for a moment longer, then sighed. "Very well. But in the future, Miss Black, do try to avoid such mishaps so close to curfew. And Remus, please ensure that students return to their dormitories in a timely manner."

"Of course, Minverva," Remus said with a respectful nod.

With that, McGonagall swept past you. Remus took a deep breath, the tension visibly draining from his body.

"Well played, Professor," you teased.

Remus chuckled. "Just another day at Hogwarts," he quipped.

Reaching the entrance to your common room, you turned to face him and whispered, "Goodnight, Remus."

"Goodnight, love," he replied, then leaned in and gave you a quick, soft kiss on the lips. You slipped through the entrance of your common room, giving him one last smile.

Remus watched you go for a moment, and made his way back to his quarters.

He sank back onto the couch, his gaze trailing across the room and settling on the now-innocent desk. His mind, however, was reeling with what had just transpired. The feel of your skin, the warmth of your body pressed against his. He closed his eyes, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, and let himself slip back into the memory.

A sudden crackle from the fireplace jolted him back to reality. Sirius' grinning face filled the flames. Remus nearly jumped out of his skin, a strangled scream escaping his lips.

"Merlin's beard, Sirius! What- what are you doing here?"

Sirius' laughter echoed in the room. "Fire-called you earlier, Moony," he said, "but it seemed you were…busy."

Remus choked, absolutely mortified. His mind raced, wondering if Sirius had truly witness what he thought he had. "I… uh, what do you mean?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "That poor desk looks like it's barely standing after this."

Remus' face fell, his mind going blank. He stammered, "S-Sirius, I-"

"Don't worry, Moony," Sirius said, his grin softening. "Just wanted to check on my niece. Seems she's well taken care of, though."

Remus could only manage a weak nod, his voice still lost somewhere in his throat.

"Did you use the little potion I sent over?" Sirius asked casually.

Remus croaked out a confirmation, his cheeks burning hotter than the fireplace ever could. A satisfied smirk spread across Sirius' face.

"Just looking out for you both, mate. You weren't exactly discreet over the summer," he continued, a wink following his words. "Besides, wouldn't want any little surprises popping up in a few months, would we?"

Remus was so mortified he could hardly speak. "Sirius, I… I didn't mean for you to-"

Sirius laughed, shaking his head. "Relax, Moony. I trust you. Just remember, she's precious to me. But from what I can see, you're doing a decent job."

With that, Sirius' face disappeared from the fire. Remus slumped back further into the couch, burying his face in his hands. Relief mingled with worry. Sirius knew. Definitely. Yet he seemed… accepting. The thought offered a sliver of comfort, but he knew he wasn't going to tell you anytime soon.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #professor lupin #remus lupin smut #professor lupin x reader #smut #sirius black #hp fanfic

248 notes · View notes

urfavoritegirlkisser · 10 months ago

Text

"To all the Girls I've Loved Before" Hazel Callahan x Reader

"And then she shoved them all into her closet, for her eyes only, and it would stay that way until she died…or at least that was her hope."

Tags: Fluff, Nothing big happens really, only one use of y/n, wlw, proof read but it's currently 4:44am and my eyes burn so just ignore imperfections

A/N: This is kind of loosely based on the scene in "To all the Boys I've Loved Before" where all the guys receive their letters, but make it gay, also please don't steal my writing...it would suck

Hazel always kept her romantic feelings to herself…well, she tried to at least.

Sometimes she would have a crush that made her want to just scream from the rooftops and parade around town confessing her love to whoever was the object of her desires at that time.

So, Hazel decided to write them out, to save herself from becoming an even bigger loser than she already was. She would write letters to all of her crushes but never mail them so she could look back and read what crazy things a simple crush can do to a person.

There was only three letters, one to PJ, one to a girl she had met at summer camp once, and then you.

You were the one crush that Hazel didn’t think she would ever be able to shake, PJ was simple to shake after a few arguments and harsh words thrown Hazel’s way…

But you seemed to keep Hazel in your grasp even if you only knew her from that one spin the bottle game during a party freshman year, which was the first time Hazel kissed a girl. Ever since she would still catch herself faintly blushing if you caught her gaze in the hallways.

She had written your letter first, the night she got home from the party freshman year. Hazel poured out all of her giddy feelings about the kiss and how pretty your eyes were underneath the cheap party city lights.

And then she shoved them all into her closet, for her eyes only, and it would stay that way until she died…or at least that was her hope.

It was a regular Friday afternoon. Hazel’s last period being gym which wasn’t exactly her favorite, especially since she had gotten caught up with fight club business and ran late causing her teacher to tell her she was running an extra lap because of her tardiness.

Hazel had been running for a while and stopped to take a breather as the sun shone down on her, and of course she forgot her water bottle in the bleachers in her haste.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hazel saw you approaching and tried to straighten her sweaty and wrinkled P.E. uniform. Not that it helped her appearance any since she knew her cheeks were probably a blotchy red and could feel her hair sticking to her forehead from the sweat.

“Hey y/n, what’s up?” she asks, trying to be cool but cringing at herself for not coming up with something less generic.

You smile sweetly, “Hi Hazel, look I wanted to tell you that I am very flattered, but I just broke up with Josh a few days ago” you say putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry…what?” Hazel says, confused and still trying to catch her breath from running, and that’s when she saw it

Oh fuck…

In your hands was a letter, Hazel’s handwriting clear as day with your name and address on it.

“And don’t get me wrong, that kiss freshman year was great for a first kiss, I wouldn’t say it was like a firework show but I mean I wasn’t in your shoes for it so…” You ramble on a little awkwardly

And that’s the last thing Hazel remembers you saying before she hit the ground

—————

“Hazel!” You say sharply while shaking her shoulder and she jerks awake with a sharp inhale

Hazel squints as the sun shines directly into her eyes, “Jesus…what happened?” she groans a little as she leans onto her elbows

“Well, you fainted” you say before helping Hazel sit up

She knows that you continued speaking to her after that, but she can’t really pay attention as she looks over you shoulder to see a confused looking PJ walking over, letter in hand

Oh no…no no no no no

“Oh my god…” Hazel mutters to herself trying to think of a distraction and then turning to you.

“Oh my god” she repeats before quickly pulling you down so she’s on top of you and quickly presses her lips to yours, while you shriek in surprise.

“Hey! You two! Get up and stop that!” the coach shouts, which causes Hazel to immediately break away in shock of what she had just done.

She looks over to see PJ staring at the two of you dumbfounded. Hazel jumps up and shoots you a thumbs up.

“Uh, thanks…i guess” she stammers out before running away from both you and PJ who tries to call after her.

--------

Thank you for reading!! This is my first time posting fanfic so I am actually so nervous, go drink some water you girl kissers, love y'all!

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel bottoms #bottoms movie #ruby cruz #hazel callahan #wlw fanfic

326 notes · View notes

bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 10 months ago

Text

Secret Admirer - S.Snape

Summary - Snape had been receiving notes, poems and gifts all year. They were just sitting on his desk waiting for him, he could only speculate who had been putting these things on his desk, until one day, he catches this secret admirer red handed.

Pairings : Severus Snape x Professor!Fem!Reader

Warnings : Female Reader, use of Y/N, not proofread

This is based on this request by @acupnoodle Thank you for the request!

Author's Note : I had a bit of a hard time writing this so please let me know if there was any mistakes or if there was a bit that didn't make sense. I can only become a better writer if I get feedback on how I can improve!!

My requests are open!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

Severus was always curious about who had been leaving little notes and gifts on his desk. Now, he wasn’t complaining, his admirer had brightened his day every single time something was left on his desk. Even the students had taken notice that whenever there was a note or a little wrapped gift on his desk, he’d become happier, chipper even.

He had no idea who this admirer was and he so desperately wanted to know, he thought he recognized the handwriting but convinced himself that he was delusional. Even one of the students had recognized the handwriting, saying it was Professor Y/L/N’s handwriting. He hoped that it was actually her but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Professor Snape?” He heard Hermione’s voice from behind him as he was getting himself ready for the lesson.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” He acknowledged the girl, still facing the blackboard.

“Who do you think is leaving you those gifts?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Not even a guess.”

“No. Let’s start the lesson shall we?”

That seemed to be his routine, until one day one of the house elves had delivered a wrapped box with a poem attached in the middle of one of his lessons. He eagerly took the box from the elf, thanking them before sitting at his desk, gently pulling the note off.

Severus,

I admire watching how passionate you get when you talk about something you like. I admire everything you do, you’re a great man, a great professor and a great person. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.

Love,

Your Admirer

The students watched as a smile spread across the man’s face, color gracing his pale cheeks as his eyes scanned the paper over and over again.

“Are you blushing, professor?” Theodore Nott teased. Severus ignored the teasing as he opened the box carefully. Inside of the box was a signed book from his favorite potioneer, the color on his cheeks darkened even more as he handled the book with care. “Snape is blushing!” Theo pointed out to the class. The girls all giggled at the professor and the boys all let out teasing “oohs”. He quickly shut them up and continued the lesson.

The next day, he had decided out of the blue to go to his classroom early. He heard shuffling around in his room which put him on high alert, he peeked into the room only to find a woman placing something on his desk. When he looked closer, he noticed that it was Y/N Y/L/N, the professor he so desperately hoped was his admirer.

He didn’t understand why she chose him, he was cold and mean, he was unfriendly and sour, so why him? He stood by the door and waited until she turned around. She let out a shriek of fright at seeing the man she was leaving a gift right by the door. “Severus! You scared me!” She gulped. She hadn’t expected him to come to his classroom so early, her heart pounding in her chest.

“You’re my admirer. I should have known that was your handwriting! I second-guessed myself,” He admitted, “I was hoping to catch you one day, ask you on a date but I was too nervous.”

“No need to be nervous Sev. I’d love to go on a date with you!”

The two professors smiled at each other, walking towards one another. “I hoped it was you,” He smiled at her.

“Oh really? And why is that Professor?” She teased as she grabbed his hands.

“Keep it up, darling,” He taunted, a smirk overtaking his smile.

“Keep up what? I’m not doing anything,” She said innocently. He leaned down closer to her, giving her the space to decide if she wanted to lean in or lean back. She, too, leaned in, connecting their lips into a shy and gentle kiss.

They pulled away for a moment before leaning back, kissing each other with more certainty, more passion. Severus letting go of her hands only to move them to her waist, pulling her body flush to his, her arms wrapping around his neck, hands fiddling with his jet black hair.

The sudden cheers and applause had caused them to jump apart, Y/N accidentally biting his lip in surprise causing it to bleed. “Oh Merlin! I’m sorry! Are you okay?” She rushed out, inspecting his lip. Severus couldn’t help but chuckle, wiping away the blood with his cloak sleeve.

“I’m fine, darling. I promise. You’re going to be late for your class, I’ll see you tonight,” He assured her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before sending her on her way to her classroom.

The students taking their seats were still cheering and chatting about what they saw as they sat. “Snape is gonna get laid!” Theodore called out causing laughter to spread throughout the class.

“That is not appropriate Mr. Nott. I will be taking 5 points from Slytherin for that comment,” Severus told the boy, taking his own seat at his desk as he settled himself for the lesson. A permanent smile graced his face as he taught his classes throughout the day. Word spreading quickly that the Potions master and the most beloved professor were going on a date later that day. Bets pertaining to when the pair were getting married started even though they hadn’t even had their first date.

The students may not have enjoyed Severus Snape as a professor but they knew that Professor Y/L/N was the best partner for him. They wished nothing but the best for the pair.

Taglist

@bigsimperika

#harry potter #severus snape x reader #pro snape #professor snape #severus snape #snape #snape fanfiction #severus snape imagine #pro severus snape #severus #pro severus #severus x reader #snape community #snape love #request

276 notes · View notes

winchesterwild78 · 5 months ago

Text

Curvy

I’ve got requests- ignore them if you want, but I had to try.

If you could I’d like (all plus sized/curvy reader):

Soldier boy- something about him being a softie but only for her. And emphasis on how he loves her being curvy

*This is for you 😁 I hope I bring your vision to life. Thank you for trusting me with a request!!*

Characters:Soldier Boy (Ben) x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Language, SMUT, insecurities, Fluff, unprotected sex (cover it up guys)

A/N: This is my first ever request and I’m so excited to write it. I wrote it fast so please forgive any mistakes. This does not follow The Boys story line.

All work is my own, don’t take it!!

Minors DNI 18+

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

You were sitting at your desk at Vought Tower. You hadn’t been on the job long but you were excited to be there. You had a masters degree in public relations and were an absolute beast at your job. Vought fought hard for you to work for them. Working for them, with supes and the pay was great. Since you were a kid you were envious of the supes. You loathed Homelander though. He was a complete dick.

For as long as you could remember you were on the heavier side. You weren’t terribly overweight, but you had more curves and weight than the average woman. Your teenage years were filled with memories of teasing and being the target of some sick jokes.

As an adult you thought that would have changed, but you were wrong. Most men were either repulsed by you or thought you’d be an easy lay. When you wouldn’t give them what they wanted it was the same song and dance “Nobody is going to want you.” “You should be on your knees thanking me for even considering fucking you.”

The worst however came when you thought you found the one. You dated Thomas for a few years and he asked you to marry him. You were thrilled. The plans were made, the dress picked out and the day arrived. You were so happy and in love. As you’re in the bridal suite waiting for the ceremony to start your mom comes in with a look on her face.

She handed you a letter and you knew it was his handwriting. You opened the letter with shaking hands and read it.

Y/N,

I can’t marry you. I wish I could say I’m sorry but I’m not. I’ve met someone else and she’s a 10. I’m in love with her and her amazing body. Good luck in life and maybe try to lose some weight. It will help.

Thomas

Your legs gave out under you and you collapsed to the floor. Sobbing you couldn’t talk. Your mother took the note and read it. She shook her head and left the room. Leaving you on the floor in your wedding dress sobbing.

When you finally got yourself together you packed your bags and left your hometown for good. That’s how you ended up at Vought. They needed someone who essentially had no life that they could work to the bone. You figured you’d throw yourself into your work. It’s not like you had anyone or anything at home to go to.

There was a buzz around the office about some long lost supe coming back after years of being gone. You tried to focus on your latest project but the buzz kept ringing. You left your desk to go grab a coffee, your 4th for the morning. When you turned the corner and ran right smack into what felt like a wall.

Only it wasn’t a wall it was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. That’s when you realized it was Soldier Boy. He grabbed your arms to help steady you and oh lord did his grip turn you on. “Hey, be careful Doll face” his smooth voice said. “Oh I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” You stumbled through your words. He smirked “no problem. Where are you headed in such a hurry? Getting coffee for the boss man.” Oh that pissed you off. “Excuse me?! It’s not the 1930s anymore. Women contribute more to society than coffee and babies. Now excuse me.” You seethed as you pushed past him.

Your heart rate was up so high you could hear it pounding in your ears.

Ben stood there smirking. Admiring your feisty nature and your beautiful curvy body as you walked away. He’d always had a thing for curvy women. He knew they could handle more and he didn’t have to worry too much about breaking them. He ran his gloved hand through his hair and kept walking.

You returned to your desk and got back to work. However, you were more distracted by the encounter with him than you cared to admit. You found yourself fantasizing about his strong arms around you and touching your body. The way his soft lips would feel on your skin. Damn. You shook your head trying to rid it of the thoughts plaguing your brain.

It was late night when you finally called it a day. This was your life though. Work all day long and go home to an empty apartment. You grabbed your things and headed down to the parking garage. When you stepped off the elevator you felt a little uneasy. Like someone was watching you. You had almost made it to your car when you realized you were right. Standing leaning against your car was Soldier Boy. His arms folded over his chest and his legs crossed at his ankles. He was the picture of perfection.

“Hey doll face.” He smirked. “Soldier boy” you nodded as you fumbled for your keys. He was right up next to you and whispered “Ben, call me Ben.” Your heart raced and heat filled your cheeks. “Ben, what can I do for you” you asked. He got a wide smile on his face “there’s a lot you can do for me, but for now let me take you to dinner to apologize for being a dick.”

“What makes you think I want to go to dinner with you, Ben” you seethed. “Well your heart rate for one, and I can smell your arousal.” Ben smirked. You rolled your eyes. Deep down you knew he was right. Your body responded to his in ways it never had before, even with Thomas. You couldn’t control it.

“Ben, you don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault you were born when you were. Things have changed and you need to adjust to it. I appreciate your apology but you really don’t want to be seen in public with all this” you waved your hands over your body.

Then you saw Ben’s eyes soften. “Oh sweetheart you have no idea what you’re doing to me and how your body is making me feel.” He whispered in your ear. Your breath hitched. You swallowed hard and before you could process what you were saying it came out in a seductive tone “Then show me.”

Ben took your head in his hands and kissed you. Leaning you up against your car you could feel his arousal through his suit. Damn he felt big and really hard. Your mind was racing and your lungs screamed for air. You didn’t care. You’d die right here to keep this kiss going.

You two finally parted and you were breathing hard. His lips were soft but strong and his hands were so firm. You wanted more. Ben smiled at you softly. You were so confused by the softness you saw in him. You had read his file and knew what he was capable of. Being soft was not in the realm of his ability. He was a badass supe, probably the strongest one and he was a bit of an asshole. This man in front of you was anything but an asshole.

“Y/N, let’s go grab something to eat and talk” Ben said taking your arm. “Okay, Ben. I’m driving myself though.” You said firmly. He threw his hands up in surrender and agreed. He chuckled and told you he’d meet you there. You got in your car, took a deep breath and drove to the restaurant.

When you arrived at the restaurant you got out of your car and looked for Ben. You didn’t see him at first and when you finally found him your breath caught in your throat. Ben had changed out of his suit and into a nice shirt and pair of slacks. You’d never seen a supe dress like a “regular” person. He looked even more handsome than he had before.

Ben walked up to you and took your hand in his. “Ready darling” he asked. You nodded yes and smiled. You felt the heat raise in your cheeks and they turned red. When the two of you were seated Ben ordered a whiskey right away, you ordered a water. He chuckled.

The waitress came over and she was absolutely gorgeous. Tall, thin, long legs. She had long blonde hair and was very busty. You couldn’t help but be envious of her and her beauty. You knew Ben was going to flirt. You braced yourself for it.

When she realized who he was she flirted. “Oh my goodness it’s you, Soldier Boy. Oh wow I’m a huge fan. What can I get for you.” She gushed. He pointed to you “she’ll go first” he said it looking at her. She turned to you and her eyes went wide. You’d seen this look before. It’s the “what is she doing with a guy like this” look.

You plastered on a smile and began to order. “I’ll take the steak medium, loaded baked potato and side salad with ranch dressing please.” She scoffed and wrote down your order. She turned to Ben “what can I get for you. I’ll give you anything you want Soldier Boy.” He didn’t bat an eye. You were shocked. This gorgeous woman was practically throwing herself at him and he seems uninterested. “I’ll take the same as her.” He replied without looking up.

You sat in awe and silent. When she walked away you expected him to watch her but his piercing green eyes settled on you. You blushed a little. He grabbed your hand “Fuck you’re absolute perfection. You get me so hard.” You smirked. “What about her, Ben. I bet you she’s in the back trying to figure out how to get you to fuck her in the bathroom right now.” “Sweetheart I don’t want her. I want YOU!” His tone sent a chill down your spine.

“Me? Why would you want me when you could have women like her? She’s beautiful and skinny. I love food and I’m curvy.” You hung your head. Ben stood and lifted your chin. “You’re fucking perfect. From these lips (he kissed them), this neck (kissed again), these hands (kissed again), these gorgeous breasts, to every single curve. I’ll spend all night getting to know every single detail of your beautiful body if you let me.”

Your head was spinning. You never have sex on the first date. Wait is that what this is? Are you on a date with him? “Ben, people are staring” you whispered. “Let them” he said as he kissed you. Your legs felt like jelly. He was doing something to your body and you were okay with it.

When the food came out Ben asked for it to be boxed up. “We’re going home for dessert first” he wiggled his eyebrows. You blushed and giggled. The waitress was in shock. “You’d give up this to be with that” she hissed as she pointed to you. “I’d give up being a supe to be with her darlin” he said.

You saw the softness in his eyes and you knew he meant it. Your heart beat wildly and you pulled him in for a kiss. “Let’s go to my place, Ben” you said seductively.

By the time the two of you got inside your apartment clothes were all ready coming off. Ben lifted you up and you squealed. You’d never been picked up and manhandled before and it turned you on. He tossed you on the bed and you yelped and giggled. He pulled your pants and panties off leaving you naked in front of him. You tried to grab the sheet to cover up but he stopped you. “No, let me see how beautiful you are.” He said as he looked you over.

Your cheeks turned red and you had to fight hard not to cover yourself up. No man has ever wanted to see your body and here this god of a man was and he wanted to actually see it. He removed the rest of his clothes and his long, thick cock sprang free. You bit your lip and he growled.

Ben dropped to his knees and slung your legs over his shoulders and started to eat your pussy like a man starved. Your hands went in his hair and you pulled him closer. You felt him smirk and he moved faster. You were close to your release really quickly. You’d never felt like that or gotten to your release so quickly. He definitely knew what he was doing.

“Ben I’m going to cum. Oh god!” He leaned up and said “you can call me Ben”. You came hard and he lapped up your juices. As he stood you saw your arousal on his beard. He leaned forward and kissed your lips. You could feel his hardness on your leg. “Ready sweetheart” he asked. You nodded “yes I am. Please Ben I need you” you said.

He pumped himself a few times and lined himself up. Ben pushed himself in slowly and as he entered you he stretched you. “Relax baby. I’ll be gentle” he said. You relaxed and it felt amazing.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him. He grinned and pushed himself in the rest of the way. You both moaned and grunted as he bottomed out. He set a good pace. Not too fast and not too slow. Each thrust was amazing. You felt your bodies connecting in ways you never imagined.

“Ben please. I’m not going to break. Please fuck me” you begged. Ben growled and flipped you over on your knees. He pushed back in and began thrusting hard. The sounds of grunts, moans, and flesh hitting flesh filled the room. Ben grabbed your hair and pulled your body up and back flush to his. His lips on your neck. He smacked your ass and you yelled in pleasure.

“Fuck you feel so good. I don’t want to cum like this. Get on me baby girl. Ride me.” He groaned in your ear. He released you and laid down. You climbed on top of him and put one leg on either side of his body. You used one hand to steady you and the other to guide him in. As soon as he was in you slid down and he thrusted up. Ben thrusted up as you bounced up and down on him. He kept looking at your body and his hands roamed over every inch. He grabbed your breasts and leaned up sucking on them.

You felt yourself getting close to a second release. “Ben I’m close again” you breathed out. “Me too. I want to cum inside you. Fuck a baby into this perfect body. Make you mine” he said. “Yes Ben. Fuck a baby into me. Please” you begged. As you started to cum your walls clenched around his cock causing him to cum too. He grunted and thrusted deep inside you. Coating your walls with his hot seed.

When he was ready you climbed off and laid beside him. He kissed your forehead and moved a piece of hair out of your face. Ben got up and went into your bathroom. He cleaned himself up and came back with a warm washcloth. He parted your legs and carefully cleaned you up.

As he walked away to put the washcloth in the bathroom your heart twinged. You’d never had anyone take care of you like that. He was amazing.

Ben climbed back in the bed with you and held you in his arms. He drew delicate patterns on your arm as he held you. “You okay sweetheart. I didn’t hurt you did I” he asked softly. “No Ben. You didn’t hurt me. I’m perfect.” You leaned up and kissed him.

“I meant what I said. I do want to put a baby inside you. If you want me to.” Ben was so sincere. “I’d like that Ben. Very much” you whispered.

From that day forward you and Ben were inseparable. You never thought you’d ever find anyone who loved all of you. Especially your body. Ben worshipped your body. Any chance he got his hands were on you. He could be a jackass and a big scary supe, but not with you. To the world he was Soldier Boy, but to you he was your Ben. Soft, kind, and loving. He was your home and you were his. Curves and all.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92 @suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 @manicjk

#hes gorgeous #jensen ackles #so damn sexy #jensen ackles x plus size reader #soldier boy #soldier boy x plus size reader #jackles

109 notes · View notes

marvelwitchergilmore · 1 year ago

Text

Bloody Pardon

Summary: Anthony Lockwood x Fe!Reader ~ Despite your feelings towards Anthony Lockwood, you're starting to think that nightmare you had about locking him in a trunk chest might have actually been a dream.

Disclaimer: no idea on legally binding marriages but we'll ignore that for this fic. Quill Kipps platonic relationship with the reader (frenemies + his crush on Lucy)

You laughed nervously. “What?”

Lucy stood up from her corner of the sofa to look at the wide-eyed George. “George? Please, please tell me this is an April Fools.”

“Given that it’s the middle of November, this is definitely not an April Fools.” George replied.

“George!”

You hadn’t meant to call his name so loudly, but the information he’d just given you pardoned your reaction.

“What if you just ask him about it? Maybe he’ll have an explanation.”

“An explanation?” you questioned before laughing. “Oh, he better. Or else, I’ll kill him.”

Lucy jumped in front of you and pulled you back. “Wait, no. Don’t. Not yet. Look, we don’t even know if he knows yet.”

“How can he not know?”

“You didn’t.”

“He’s the one who probably signed the papers in the first place, Lucy!”

“Look, why doesn’t one of us just go and ask him?”

“Great!” you forced a smile. “I’ll go.”

“Absolutely not.” Lucy pulled you back again. “George, you go.”

“But-”

“George.”

“Fine.”

George disappeared from the doorway and made his way upstairs towards Lockwood’s room. He’d been up there most of the day running through multiple papers on the business and the cases that had come through in the past couple of days.

“Lucy?”

Lucy turned around and found you slumped against the arm of the sofa.

“Hey,”

Pulling your hands from your face, Lucy held onto your wrists and knelt down. “Look at me.”

“How could this have happened?”

“I don’t know. But I do know Lockwood.”

Lucy paused for a moment. “I don’t think he will even know what this is about.”

“But if he has…”

“Then we’ll deal with it and I’ll help you bury his body in the back garden. You’ll get through this. We all will.”

“I don’t even know how this could have happened.”

Lucy pulled you in for a hug, tightly. “How about I pop the kettle on? Make us some tea? Two sugars?”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

“Come on.”

However, before either of you could get out of the living room, Lockwood came running down the stairs, George quick on his tail. “Lockwood?”

Lucy called his name but there was no breaking his concentration from the paper in his hand that had both his own handwriting on and somebody else’s. He rushed around the place before making his way into the kitchen.

Luckily, you managed to catch the door before it slammed behind him and you made your way inside.

“Lockwood?”

“Something’s not right.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Saint’s would have said something. Surely, he would have-”

He was talking about the case.

“Lockwood? Did you not hear anything George told you?” Lucy asked before turning to her left. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”

“Yes! Whether he listened or not, I don’t really know.”

“Lockwood!” you called his name again, but still nothing.

“Tony!”

Oh, boy.

You took the paper from his hand and slammed it onto the counter top.

“My- what? Am I in trouble?”

“Trouble? Have you not listened to a word George told you?”

“When? Oh, no. But I think I’ve almost solved-”

“We’re married, Tony!”

Lockwood’s face went from a smile to a confused and nervous look of curiosity. “What?”

“Surely, you would have known? After all, you were the one who was left alone in the courthouse three months ago.”

“Courthouse? What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you made your way to George who handed you the three pieces of paper he’d found when down at the CourtHouse himself.

“Mr and Mrs Lockwood.” you read the first letter. “Congratulations on your marriage, enclosed you will find another copy of your marriage certificate…” you continued to read the rest of the letter before shoving it into his chest and reading aloud the next two.

“A letter, sent to me by your Great-Aunt. Welcome to the Family. Now, as much as I love all of you as my family, I would have liked to at least be made aware that I was suddenly in need of changing my last name.”

The final piece of paper was a letter from Mark Smith-Kensington.

“We have recently been made aware of your nuptials. In this case, you are in need of updating all of your personal information for the Post Office, as well as medical forms and driving license.”

You pushed the final letter against his chest. “What did you do Lockwood?”

Lockwood’s head was spinning. How could this have- oh.

“Lockwood?”

Lockwood turned to both Lucy and George. He knew something. Maybe not what they suspected he knew, but he definitely knew something.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? Ooh, Lockwood.” you had to laugh, or else you might have cried. “I am so far past mad. We are married and you didn’t even bother to, I don’t know, ask me? Tell me, even, that you’d decided to use my name for a marriage certificate.”

“It was meant to be fake-”

“I beg your bloody pardon?”

“It was meant to be fake. Remember how I told you I managed to get into Jameson’s Club so we could prove Harold was the murderer. Well, they didn’t exactly let single people in.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I swear, I thought it was fake.”

“Well, it’s very, very real Lockwood. Very real.”

“Where are you going?” Lockwood called after you as you made your way out of the kitchen, grabbing your jacket that lay on the back of the kitchen chair.

“Out. Don’t follow me.”

You didn’t know how far you had travelled but eventually you came to a stop at a small, quiet park. You sat down on an old wooden bench that was donated by Harriet Smith - some wealthy heiress from New York who had spent her childhood in the park.

After a while, you heard a voice. And it definitely wasn’t the voice you were expecting.

“Hello.”

You sat up straight for a moment and looked around you before you found Quill Kipps standing behind you in a pair of jeans, a shirt and a grey woollen coat.

“Oh, hi.”

“Mind if I-”

“Sure.” you smiled before he made his way around and sat next to you, leaving enough of a space between the both of you.

“What are you doing this far away from the house?”

“I needed a break.”

“From…”

“Look, if you want me to shit-talk Lockwood, you can go and find someone else to do that with.”

Quill studied your face for a short moment as you looked at him before turning back to look at the trees in the park.

“What’s happened?”

“What?”

“No offence, but you’re not the best at hiding your emotions when it comes to Lockwood. What’s happened between the both of you?”

“Nothing.”

Kipps called your name in a soft tone. Despite your feelings towards him, you’d each found yourself in each other’s company in the time of need. And from that, a small friendship blossomed - despite the fact that both of you disliked it greatly.

After all, you were both still rivals.

You sighed. “Fine. You are looking at the new Mrs Anthony Lockwood.”

“What?”

You turned to look at him, “Lockwood and I are married. Apparently, the form he made me sign to get into Jameson’s was a marriage certificate.”

Kipps didn’t know where to put himself. He knew Lockwood could be reckless and stupid at times, but he didn’t think he would be that reckless and stupid.

“I’d offer to kill him but I’d wager you already have that planned.”

“Death certificate is signed, sealed and delivered to the Grim Reaper.”

“Need a clean up crew?” Kipps offered.

You laughed, “Thanks.”

“So that’s why you’re out here? Escaping your husband? I have to hand it to you, it’s a good alibi.”

You smiled again, keeping your arms folded across your middle. “Honestly, I…I don’t know whether to be mad and kill him or just…”

“Sit here forever?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I stick with you, for a while?”

“You don’t have your own surprise marriage, do you?”

Kipps laughed. “No. I just…I-I’m thinking about asking out a girl.”

“Is she cute?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like her?”

“A lot.”

“Is she kind?”

“Yeah.”

“She Lucy?”

Kipps half answered you before turning his head to you where he found you with a smug smile on your face.

“How did you-”

“Oh, please. I see you when you’re around her. You’re either blushing like an embarrassed toddler or you’re as speechless as a toddler.”

“Do you think she knows?”

“No. Or, if she has, she hasn't said anything.”

“Oh.”

Kipps seemed a little defeated at first. “But you should ask her out for a coffee at least. I have a feeling she’ll say yes.”

He smiled. “Great.”

“At least someone in that house will feel good about their love life.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” you shrugged. “But once he reads that letter, he’ll realise that his Great-Aunt Violet is coming for a visit to officially meet her new great-niece. So, that’ll be fun.”

“Well, I’m here if you need any back-up.”

“Thank you, Quill.”

“Anytime.”

Eventually, Quill helped you up from the bench and you both made your way back to Portland Row. On the way, you both stopped inside a small cafe for some food and a tea, making sure to pick Lucy up a loaf of bread and some doughnuts for George.

Unlocking the door, Lucy met you at the bottom of the stairs where Quill called for her to talk.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

Making your way into the kitchen, you placed the packet of doughnuts onto the table for George.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Where’s Lockwood?”

“In his room. He’s been on the phone to the marriage people since you left.”

You nodded your head and popped the kettle on, managing to make two cups of tea before Lockwood even thought to leave his room.

Knocking on the door, you entered and found him with the phone and the back of his hand pressed to his head, his eyes shut closed.

“Thought you might fancy a cup.”

Lockwood jumped at your voice but quickly tried to recover.

“T-Thanks. Thank you.”

Pulling up a chair, you sat beside his desk, crossing one leg over the other.

“I’m really sorry,” Lockwood began. “I - I know it was stupid. A completely stupid idea. And, I don’t want to just make an excuse.”

“But it was for the case.”

“I should have still thought. But, I swear. I swear to you, I really thought it was fake. If I’d have known-”

You nodded. “I know. I know you would have done. But…Tony, what are we going to do?”

“I’ve been trying to find out how to get a divorce but they keep sending me round the houses.”

“Did you read your Aunt’s letter?”

“Not fully.”

“She’s coming up to visit us in a week. Apparently wants to officially meet her niece.”

“That’ll be something.”

You nodded and the pair of you sat in a quiet silence for a few moments. “I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

“Thank you, Tony.”

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #quill kipps x reader #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #london #l&co #netlfix #lockwood x fe!reader #anthony lockwood x fe!reader #platonic ships #romantic ships

221 notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 1 year ago

Note

Rome Chérie, I'm sorry, but, could I please Request, if it's no trouble for you, a Heiji Hattori (From Detective Conan) x Male Reader? Something Angst and comforting fluffy?

(Perhaps a/b/o—MR-Omega, Universe, though only if you felt like it)

Though again only if it's alrighty with you, 🌻

-🌻

I gotchu my dude

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷

Valentine's Day was stressful.

It shouldn't be but it is.

(Name) spent all night making chocolate and cookies and a lunch for his crush, a lot of things the Omega was not great at but tried his damned best.

(Name) got to school extra early, shy and awkward as he put the lunch and treats in Heijis shoe locker before running off, unaware the detective was walking in and saw someone run off and walked to his shoe locker.

A cutely made lunch and treats, obvious effort put into it.

Faintly he smelt (scent) in the air and looked at the handwriting, realizing whoever made it forgot to put their name on it, the handwriting (neat/messy) but kind of cute the Alpha noted to himself.

He had a new case now, find who his admirer was.

He didn't really get admirer gifts much less valentines gifts so this was exciting honestly!

(Name) went about his day, trying to not think about the Valentines gift but his heart fluttered when he saw him eat the lunch and treats with seeming bliss.

When he started noticing other people giving Heiji gifts, he felt himself deflate, the others things looked way nicer than his! Heiji wouldn't even remember his!

He tried to ignore his classmates flirt with heiji, why this year! Why did he need to be seen as a romantic interest by others this year!

(Name) was tired of looking at it all, quietly accepting to himself that heiji wouldn't want to go out with him, he didn't even talk to him! Even after he put in a note!

Heiji sneakily looked at people's handwriting to try and compare handwriting, then he noticed (name) in the far corner of the library taking notes and sneakily he went behind him and halted "it's you!"

"SHHH!" The other classmates shushed him and he looked sheepish as (name) looked startled "you're the admirer!" Heiji whisper shouted and (name) blushed but looked confused "y-yeah, I mean I put my name on it"

"No ya didn't!" He teased and showed the note and (name) groaned "I knew I was forgetting something..."

"Don't worry! I'm a great detective after all!"

"So does that mean?"

"Yup!"

(Name) felt his heart lighten and he giggled and packed up his stuff as Heiji walked the Omega home.

#detective Conan x male reader #detective conan x reader #hattori heiji #heiji Hattori x reader #heiji Hattori x male reader #male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

183 notes · View notes

be-side-my-self · 2 months ago

Text

Rewatch of Only Murders In The Building to prepare for season 4 (III)

Block #OMITBRewatch if you don’t want to read notes that will have spoilers up to seasons 3. Just to make it clear, while quoting, I use M, O, C for the main characters.

Also I'm putting this under a read more because it gets long.

S1 E9

Jen is freaky...

"Mable is gonna be looking at me with those damn Cocker Spaniel eyes. "

Oh! I like Pataki. She is so cool!

C: "Everybody loves Sazz."

Love how everyone thinks, that Sazz is Charles xD

Also Oliver just moving in with Charles.

It is kind of sad, that Jan is pushed to the sideline because of Sazz.

But Sazz is right, they ignored the motive... and yeah I remember.

Bunnie "First... Tim Kono's death has now been ruled a homocide and, apparently, one of you jerk-offs did it."

Bunny: "By a show of hands, who here thinks our building would be better off without these three fuckwads?"

Bunny: "The rest of you, in case you are a murderer, STOP MURDERING!"

So, how fucked up is it that you can lose your own apartment because enough of your neighbours don't like you? A place you own and still have to pay for?

It's sad... the whole breaking up of the trio...

Oscar: "See you, Ollie."

Sazz is great! But she is only half-right about Jen being the girl for Charles.

... oh that is so bitter, that Jen again gots sidelined.

Meanwhile Mable and Oliver solve the case.

S1 E10

Just 23 seconds...

Jan is freaky... but Kono was apparently a real beast too.

C: "What's going on?" M: "So, funny story..." O: "YOU'RE SLEEPING WITH A MURDERER!"

... wow Oliver is as tactful as a sledgehammer XD

Also ... the scandal! The age difference! In both directions! Don't let the anti's hear!

Yep... it's her handwriting all right. The same handwriting as the suicide notes, and the threats on the doors... my guys...

It is always a good idea to compare the notes.

I remember being annoyed about that the first time watching too.

It's cute that Charles always thinks the best of people.

C: "Can we not talk about Tim Kono right now?" Jan: "Of course. What do you wanna talk about?" C: "That I think I'm falling in love with you." Jen: "Oh. Well, that is interesting." *Long Pause that is totally not ominous and watching Jen's expression is not alarming at all.* Jan: "Because I think I'm falling in love with you, too."

Kinda awkward...

... Charles is confronting Jen...

Jen is freaky. Really freaky.

M: She's a poisoner... who uses a label maker?

"Jan's Lil T🖤xins"

O: "The saddest thing about this is that if Jan weren't a murderous maniac she'd be perfect for Charles."

lmao Charles is amazing, he figured out that it's a recording, he figured out the writing! He is the saving grace!

Of course she stabbed herself.

Jan is a freak.

Jan: "This is definiatly one of my rougher break ups, charles. I really did fall in love with you. Sadly, I will not be seeing you bas-sooner or later."

Siri is so stupid.

"Okay, playing "Fields of Gold" by Sting."

How no one is going to help Charles... but Sevelin is really cute!

HOW aBOUT YOU PULL THE FIRE ALARM?!

Love how Oliver knows how to stop "the thing" but has no words. And it's still working.

Charles speech is so good... so heartfelt! And in reality no one hears it. (slurred, garbled nonsense)

Good thing they managed to punch down Jan.

Bunny: "Oliver. It seems due to the events of tonight, there's been a reversal in sentiment regarding your tenancies here at the Arconia." O: "Oh, please just say it, Bunny. 'Welcome back you sexy thing!'" Bunny: "I'll get you gone sooner or later. You're all idiots!" M: "Hey, Bunny. Congrats. You're the most hated person in the building now, you cranky old bitch."

And that is called foreshadowing.

Yay, Willy and Oliver made up!

Mabel and Oscar are a cute couple.

Charles, contacting Lucy... and she answers!

*Charles recording the last lines of the podcast* M: "That was amazing." O: "I mean, I just... That-that's the best performance you've ever given. I have nothing left to teach you." C: "Really? So I can finally add 'voiceover acting' to my resume?" O: "Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Some lose ends... indeed... I know we met the next murderer already.

Aw... you two are already besties.

And we're back at episode one.

That is an incredible wrap and an incredible transition that makes you want to watch the second season instantly. Which we will do!

All three get taken into custody, because it looks like Mable killed Bunny.

Cinda Canning is such a bitch. You instantly feel sorry for Poppy.

S2 E1

That other detective is a real cliché. And a dick. Forgot his name, I'll add it alter.

Lmao, Mabel is correct. No murder weapon.

C: "Oh my god!" D: M: "Oh my god!" D: O: "Oh my god!" :D

Oliver lives for the attention.

O: "Like your beats?" M: "Huh?" O: "It's a callback."

M: "I need a life, away from death. "We should all just be a little bit boring again" O: "Can I just say something? I'd rather be dead than boring!"

Charles would watch people play chess in the park, Oliver would go have brunch.

I mean, come on... who called the cops? Who knew that there is a dead person in Mables apartment. That would be the question I'd ask as a detective.

#bloodymabel

user: goaskalice!

Alice is a great character but I really want to know what exactly happened with Oscar.

The mural is great!

O: "Well, hello there Amy Schumer."

Amy: "Would you ever consider selling me the right to the podcast, so I could turn it into an 8 to 10 episode streaming series with exclusive internet content, leading to gamification?"

Is there exclusive internet conten of "Only Murders in the Building"?

Uncle Brazzos

The short hair looks good on Mabel.

Alice is weird.

She never said it's not a cult.

"I'm Cinda Canning, bitch." - "Girl, you crime is showing." - "Tune in weekly as our investigation unfolds weekly."

American knitting is so different to our european? german? knitting.

O: "We need to go full "OliMabel" here." M: "What the fuck?" C: "What?" O: "OliMabel! That's our ship name. All our names put into one." C: "Where is the 'Charles' in 'OliMabel'?" O: "The Charles is silent."

... of course people ship them and it's an awful thought xD Also OliMabel for the OT3 is a BAD ship name. The shippers should be ashamed. Call them Murder-Trio or Podcast-Shipping... though Podcast-Shipping might be any of the main three with Cinda. CharOliMa would still be better... really fictional fans are always so weird. And that says something. XD

Bunny: "Fuck off, Oliver."

Time for a call back to Ace Attorney.

M: "Bunny had a bird?"

Bunny was a freak.

I actually like the friendship between Bunny and Uma... also Howard, kinda.

Uma: "There should be a naked man on this wall! Where are the balls, Howard?"

That old Elevator is really cool.

C: "We find the painting, we find the killer."

And so starts season two.

Charles: Come here right away Charles (Old): Come here right away

There is the painting. And it shows Charles dad... but I don't see any balls.

S2 E2

Archibald (Bunny's grandpa and the arcitect) was a freak!

Charles dad was old when he had Charles.

M: "The painting is called Savage."

Guys, I'm not native speaker but the word "savage" has a meaning and especially in an erotic context it is probably a double innuendo considering that one of the models was named "Savage".

Thanks Howard.

IT TOOK ME UNTIL NOW TO SEE THAT BUNNY IS WALKING HER BIRD, MRS GAMBOLINI, IN THE INTRO! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Uma, screw off tops on wine bottles are not a sign of low quality wine. I don't think they even sell new bottles with cork, And wine maker agree on this. it's a bit cheaper and better for the environment.

Nina Lin... last season she was not that pregnant. Time passed.

Uma and Bunny were such good friends.

"I am Leonora Folger. The mother of Bunny."

O: "Please, be cool." C: "Hey, who is cooler than me?" M: "Everyone."

People who hate us: Uma, Teddy Dimas, Theo Dimas, Jen

Charles putting himself as a possible suspect.

Alice: "Um, yeah, we all work back here. Some... Sometimes, I like to cry back here because I'm a fraud. It's a multipurpose space." ... ah... the artist expierence and self depricating jokes. How awkward.

Even during the first run I did not like Alice. She came off as somewhat weird... I don't like the self depricating and sometimes her comments are off-handed also that other thing she does at the end of the season... so yeah. I was willing to cut her some slack but she is awful. Great character though! And of course Cara Delevingne is doing an amazing job!

Alice: "I've been hideously blocked for a year, stuck in the past, no moving forward. Do you ever feel that way?" M: "Yeah, all the time." Alice: "Hm, stupid question. Of course you do."

I like to draw but honest to god, I don't get art.

OF COURSE THE PICTURE IS GONE!

Amy: "Hey Putnum! Never touch my dumpster art."

Amy: "My pesky lawyers tell me I can't make deals with murderers...again."

I don't like Alice humor even though it's not so far off from Mables.

Well, there is the kiss.

Amy is a freak. Lmao

Love how the police did not give a fuck about a small boy.

Call back to Ace Attorney.

#OMITBRewatch #Only Murders in the Building #Only Murders in the Building Rewatch #Rewatch #Only Murders in the Building Season 1 #Only Murders in the Building Season 2

3 notes · View notes

fbfh · 2 years ago

Text

rocks at your window pt. 8 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18+!! ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year

additionally, we're working towards a ricky x therapy plot so he's going to start expressing some symptoms of mental illness and bpd but he does get therapy eventually and has a good support system but he gets worse before he gets better yk. Obviously I'm not a professional and this is for entertainment so while I have done my research pls take this with a grain of salt!! or several!! /lh

!! contains some spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts, and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 3k

genre: fluff, slice of life

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: making out, more fake texts (please politely ignore that it's facebook messanger it's the only fake text app I could find that's actually functional), nina tries hoovering, nina is generally a messy bitch, kourtney is a good friend, ricky is a sappy down bad bitch

summary: you and Ricky spend the night before opening having a classic sleepover at your place. Ricky falls even harder for you. Nini follows a hunch.

song recs: when you're home - in the heights, better left unsaid - ariana grande, research me obsessively - crazy ex girlfriend soundtrack/brittany snow, home is in your eyes - greyson chance

a/n: I WAS SO EXCITED TO FINISH THIS CHAPTER I LISTENED TO THE WIZARD AND I FOR HOURS CAUSE IT WAS THE ONLY SONG THAT COULD MATCH MY TRIUMPHANT ENERGY. as always thank you to cici for beta reading next part posted at 10 good reviows prepz fuk off xxx666xxx. been reading more my immortal if you couldn't tell. I, like profesor trevolry, am too adikted 2 volxemortserum.

tags @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @pikzel @demirunner @brinaslittlefreak @girlfriendwhoseawitch @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa @n-slayaaaaa @stormi-ames @brinaslittlefreak @rainforest-daisies @sunshineangel-reads

Sleepovers at your place are something that’s become a staple in Ricky’s life, and he doesn’t think he’s ever needed one more than tonight. It’s the one night the whole cast has off before opening night, so of course you’re going to spend it together. Tech week was one of the most intense things Ricky has ever experienced. It was one week straight spent at the El Rey, doing homework in between scenes, getting used to costumes, sets, lights, and props, and more importantly, getting used to all of it together. The first full run through felt surreal. If the last few rehearsals had been that exhausting and amazing and exciting, he can’t imagine how great opening night will be.

So what better way to decompress from a week straight of late nights and re-running the same numbers and scenes and working out the kinks, than being where he is right now. Ricky sits on your bed across from you while you sort through the snacks you’d picked up. There’s a comfortable, cozy energy between you, like there usually is. This is exactly what you both need, he thinks. A relaxing, fun night together before you gear up for show time. You’re trying to contain your excitement, but he can see it simmering, growing stronger in the back of your mind.

The door opens and your mom enters, holding the last few DVDs of shows you’ve been in.

“Took me a little while to find them, but here’s Matilda - regular, and the stripped down version - and Fun Home.” She smiles, beaming the way she does whenever she talks about you performing.

“Thanks mom,” you smile at how excited she and Ricky are about your shows. Ricky looks at the titles in her sharpie handwriting on the plastic cases, excitement fluttering through him at getting to see more of you performing. It might be corny to say, but you’re definitely his favorite actor.

“Which ones have you seen so far?” she asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway, happy to have someone to brag about you with and talk about your shows. Ricky lists off all the musicals you’ve watched together over the last few days.

“...And we just finished Tuck Everlasting.”

“That one’s my favorite!” she gasps, beaming, and Ricky agrees. He can see why; you brought the role of Winnie Foster to life, and he can’t believe it had such a short run. She’s about to leave, when she remembers the paperwork she dropped off at city hall earlier.

“Oh, by the way,” she starts, “I heard back from Mitch in permits and zoning, and all the paperwork was expedited. Everything you need to perform at the El Rey has been approved, and you got a green light for opening night!” You and Ricky start yelling and freaking out - exactly what she expected - and you jump off your bed to squeeze her in a tight hug.

“Thank you!” you cheer, and Ricky echos.

“Of course!” she smiles.

“That’s amazing!” Ricky beams, “My dad said it might not be ready in time.”

“Well,” she continues, “I may have pulled a few strings to get it expedited…”

She barely gets the sentence out before you’re loudly thanking her again.

“Okay, okay,” she says, calming down your cheers and heading for the door with a smile “have fun you guys.”

She closes the door, and you’re alone again. He takes in a breath, embracing this moment, here in your room with you. He looks at your decorations, the snowglobe on your bookshelf, the posters on the wall and polaroids taped to your mirror. The jacket you had been wearing earlier is now tossed on the back of your desk chair, and your backpack is still where you’d dropped it earlier when you got home.

He’s overwhelmed with that big warm feeling in his chest he gets whenever he’s around you. He loves your room, loves sleepovers with you, loves… he chokes down the thought. He can feel the urge to spill his guts, to bear his soul, but he shoves it down. As easy as it would be to pull you close and kiss the breath out of your lungs and tell you everything he’s ever felt for you, he knows the timing isn’t right. He fights temptation, helping you unbag the rest of the snacks you got to distract himself from the unspoken words he’s barely holding back. You hand him the stack of DVDs and your fingers brush. His heart jumps at the contact.

"Here," you say, "pick one out." You smile with that easygoing energy that's become so familiar to him. Sleepovers have been a pretty regular occurrence for a while now, and they still fill him with a warm, bubbling excitement. He decides which one he wants to watch first, and you slide the disc into your laptop.

“Oh wow,” he starts laughing at the grainy camera quality, “Matilda caught in 4k.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, nudging him playfully, “this was from, like, 10 years ago.”

At first it was hard to look past the sketchy camera quality and low volume of the bootlegs - or slime tutorials as you jokingly called them - but now he’s learned to see past it. He latches on quickly to your singing, feeling himself get sucked into the story right away. He’s seen another version of you performing as Matilda, but this one is the infamous stripped down one. Even though he knows the reasons behind the drastic set change, the critics were right - it does add something to the way the story is told. He realizes that even though they’ve kind of been flying by the seat of their pants to make it to opening night, it will still turn out okay.

After watching Matilda, you practice your stage makeup, and have Ricky help you pick out the perfect shade of Sharpay pink nail polish. You had put on High School Musical - it was practically obligatory - and you made it about 15 minutes into the sequel before you were in Ricky’s lap. His lips are all over you, pressing into yours, your neck, your cheek. He squeezes your waist, arms snaking around to pull you closer to him. He bites your lip playfully, getting you to gasp a little, and pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hands are on his face, in his hair, and he can’t get enough of your touch. He lets out a soft moan into your mouth, angling his head to deepen the kiss.

Your phone buzzes as he pulls away, kissing down your neck. He runs his tongue over your skin, biting, and making you giggle. You get so flustered when he kisses you like this, and he absolutely loves watching you get more worked up for him. You glance down, seeing the notification from the pizza place you ordered from on your phone.

“Ricky,” you start, and he hums in response, biting your neck again, “Ricky, the-”

You’re cut off by a knock at the door. He pulls away reluctantly, and you take in each other’s disheveled states.

“Pizza guy.” you finish, getting off his lap to go down stairs. He sighs, staring at the doorway you just disappeared through. He’s still full of that frenetic energy he gets when you touch him. You look so sweet when you’re blushing and giggling for him, he wants to make you even more flustered like that. His phone buzzes with a text from Nini. He’s still getting used to seeing her contact without the hearts that always used to be around it.

Before he can finish typing out a response, you reenter the room holding up pizza and breadsticks triumphantly. He smiles and sets his phone face down. He wants to be here with you, eating pizza and watching sitcoms, trying not to get too nervous and excited about how close opening night is. The only drama he wants to think about right now is the onstage kind.

Nina sits on her bed, homework forgotten as she rants to Kourtney over facetime. Ricky left her on read. Again. He never used to do that, not until he started hanging around you. Kourtney’s been listening to her talk about you to death for at least an hour, and she’s out of ways to respond.

“I am so done talking about this.” Nini laughs, shaking her head.

“Good, cause-”

“It’s just, like,” she continues, and Kourtney thinks she should have known where that was going. It was at least the third time Nini declared she was done with the topic at hand. Nini continues, “do you think hanging out a couple times gives you the right to be so possessive over someone?”

In the time they’ve been facetiming she’s cleaned her room, picked out her clothes for tomorrow, and finished her homework. She’s half way through her skincare routine, and secretly hoping this will wrap up soon so she can get some rest for tomorrow.

“Like, last summer Ricky went on dates with a few girls - not just hanging out - and by the start of school he only wanted to be with me. So, really she’s just making herself look desperate. It’s just sad that he’s going to dump her soon and come back to me like he always does, and she’ll have no idea it’s coming. Like, that’s going to be really embarrassing for her, right?” the faux sympathy in her voice turns into a chuckle.

Kourtney’s brow furrows. In spite of how sick she is of hearing about this, she can’t shake the feeling that you and Ricky are obviously closer than two people who have just hung out a few times. She’s seen the way you look at each other, the way you talk to each other. People who feel platonically about each other don’t do that.

“Uh, Neen, what exactly did she say?” she tries to sound casual so Nini doesn’t get suspicious, but she’s so wrapped up in her train of thought, she doesn’t notice the I have a hunch about something look Kourtney always gets when she suspects something is up.

“She was like, uh,” she begins in an exaggerated impression of you, “we like, totally hooked up a couple times, but we haven’t made anything official, but that still means he only likes me. Also you dumped him, so… like, you have no right to be in his life anymore, and he basically hates you now.”

Kourtney squints. Through Nini’s very biased recount of the exchange you had, if any of that was verbatim, if you really did tell her you hooked up with Ricky… what kind of hooking up did you mean? Nini seems to think it’s the casual meeting up kind - let’s all hook up at denny’s after the show - but Kourtney isn’t so sure. It’s none of her business, it’s really none of her business. Plus, pointing this out to Nini would just make her even more obsessed and freaked out than she is. She needs to move on from Ricky, and the last thing Kourtney wants to do is make that harder for her. She and Ricky aren’t together, and she’s certainly not going to be the one to enable any prying or backsliding, intentional or not. Instead, she redirects.

“Uh… I don’t think she can cut you out of his life for him.”

“Right?!” Nini exclaims, glad someone agrees with her. “Like, we’ve known each other since kindergarten. I’ve known him longer than anyone. You can’t get that close to someone that fast.” She sighs. “Also… there’s something about her that’s been bothering me…” Kourtney scoffs.

“What about her doesn’t bother you?”

“No, no,” Nini laughs, thinking back, “it was something Gina said…” it's been itching in the back of her mind for a while, and she can't ignore it any longer. She has to finally figure this out. She shakes her head, knowing she shouldn't keep Kourtney up any longer. "It's probably nothing. Whatever, I'll see you tomorrow night, Kourt."

"Okay. Night, Nini."

Finally, she hangs up. She should go to sleep. She has a big day tomorrow - it's opening night for god's sake - she should go to bed. Instead she opens her laptop, typing 'broadway matilda basement flood' into the search bar. She clicks on one article, then another. Eventually she finds a picture of three girls in matching Matilda costumes and is hit hard by nostalgia. She was obsessed with Matilda when she was a kid, always begging her moms to take her to New York so she can audition and be a Matilda on Broadway, be part of the friend group of other girls her age acting on Broadway together. The girl on the right was always her favorite, and she used to watch the backstage videos she was in for broadway.com vlogs all the time. She completely forgot about her Matilda phase, how obsessed she was with those girls.

She looks at the caption of the photo, caught off guard by her favorite's name. It’s the same as yours. But that can't be you, right? The last names are different. And her parents are divorced. She remembers when you mentioned it at rehearsal once. She opens another tab, continuing to search for an answer. Hours pass and she's deep into the Google rabbit hole. Hours pass, and she confirms it’s you. You played Matilda on frigging Broadway. After extensive research, she pieces together that you and your mom both had you last names changed to her maiden name, presumably after the divorce, and it doesn't look like you've acted professionally since. She opens the same tabs on her phone to look at later. She shuts her laptop and flops back into her pillows. She stares at the ceiling in disbelief that you've somehow managed to keep a secret this massive from everyone.

After eating a majority of the pizza and breadsticks, drinking several cups of tea, and watching some more Netflix, you and Ricky are finally ready for bed and curl up under the covers with each other. You're lying up next to his chest, your body heat minglinf together, and he doesn't think he's ever felt more at peace. Your hand is warm through his shirt, and he keeps pressing kisses across your face just to hear your sweet giggle. You smile at him, blinking sleepily, and when he looks into your eyes he feels it. He's home. He gazes at your face, enamored, never wanting to look away. You look so pretty like this, curled up next to him and half asleep. He's learned to tell when he's going to sleep really well and it's always on nights like this. He never knew how badly he needed to feel his breath sync up with yours, feel your hearts beating in time. He can't imagine being more content than he is right here, with you. Even the air in your room smells sweet to him, just because you're here so often.

He thinks back, running through the whole night again, returning again and again to being right here with you. Every moment with you is amazing. You have this way of transforming the mundane into something special. He’s still in disbelief that he’s the one who gets to lay next to you at the end of the day, he's the one you have whispered conversations with when you're both stupid tired. He gets to be the one to make you giggle and smile over nothing. He remembers a tweet he saw a while ago that said 'You're in her dms, I'm dancing in the kitchen with her while the bread we made bakes. We're not the same.' You might not be in the kitchen right now, but he really understands the sentiment right now. You're cuddled into his chest, melting into his touch, blushing and hiding your face when he looks at you too long like that. It’s him, not some other guy. He doesn't think other guys could be as devoted to you as he is, they couldn't love you the way he can, the way you deserve to be loved.

He's really glad you're with him and not with some fuckboy who would just want you for your body and break your heart. The idea that anyone could even think about doing that to you, even some hypothetical fuckboy, makes him sick. You're so sweet, so easy to love. He doesn't know how everyone you've met hasn't fallen in love with you, how every guy isn't throwing themselves at you. A twinge of jealousy passes through him at the thought. He brushes the thought aside, reminding himself that you're here with him. As if proving his point, you set aside your favorites squishmallow to cuddle him closer and his heart feels like it's going to burst. Girls don't do that if they don't really… really like someone, right?

You settle against him and let out a big sigh. He's had enough sleepovers with you to know that means you're about to be out like a light. He is too, and he fights off his heavy eyelids long enough to get one more good look at you before they close. He smiles as he starts to drift off. This is his favorite part, getting to fall asleep next to you do he can wake up next to you, just like he wants to forever. He can't imagine a morning where he doesn't get to see you, doesn't get to hold you in his arms, and he doesn't want to. He brushes that aside, and focuses instead on how nice you smell, how comforting your breath is on his neck. You're so warm, you make him feel so warm, and he can't get enough of your body heat and his becoming one under the mass of blankets. He doesn't know what tomorrow will hold, but he's so excited to experience it, to have his very first opening night with you.

#ricky bowen #ricky bowen x reader #hsmtmts #hsmtmts x reader #high school musical the musical the series #high school musical the musical the series x reader #rocks at your window

74 notes · View notes

vaguely-concerned · 2 years ago

Text

A post-Inquisition comic about Hawke coming home, because my heart has been aching since 2014 and I needed some catharsis at long last haha. I drew most of this over Christmas but I never intended it to become a longer thing as I was doing the first page, which is why Hawke's outfit changes completely after that. Huge plus of drawing with a ballpoint pen: forces you into an anti-perfectionist YOLO whatever-happens-happens mindstate, since once you've put the mark down on the page you just have to live with it. Huge drawback of drawing with a ballpoint pen: once you've put the mark down on the page you just have to live with it. Ah well, c'est la vie

Transcript of the dialogue under the cut/some corrections, because some of it got lost along the way to digital or fell victim to my terrible handwriting, and in some places I changed my mind about the wording but as previously mentioned: ballpoint pen and all that entails lmao

Merrill: Varric said you tried to stay behind in the Fade.

Hawke: Yeah, well, there’s some BIG potential in the housing market in there. Could’ve made a killing. Alas, it was not to be.

Merrill: Hawke, I — I don’t think you understand what you mean to us. Or… or if you do, I don’t understand how you could still think — how you could act as if…

Hawke: …As if?

Merrill: As if you don’t MATTER!

Merrill: We would follow you anywhere, if only you’d let us. You have to know that.

Hawke: Yes, I know. I think that might be part of the problem. Maybe you guys should upgrade your standards for who to follow from ‘the first and best person in the group with any sense of direction’.

Merrill: To guide those who are lost is an act of hellathen — a noble struggle. There is no shame in it.

Hawke: There is when what you’re most likely to lead them to is grim and painful doom. I seem to have an unfortunate trend on my hands. If one is to be regarded as misfortune and two starts to look like carelessness, I shudder to think what I’ve been up to.

Merrill: Is that why you sent us away?

Hawke: I never —

Merrill: Hawke, you are wonderfully clever in so many ways, but please don’t act as if I do not know you.

Hawke: It… was my responsibility.

Merrill: Was it?

Hawke: My fault, certainly.

Merrill: We were there when you found Corypheus too, you know. And we couldn’t stop it either. Does that make it our guilt as well?

Hawke: It’s not the same.

Merrill: Isn’t it? Do you think Bethany’s to blame as well, through blood alone?

Hawke: HAH! No, I don’t. And it’s very unkind of you to call me out on it, by the way. Rude.

Merrill: I do know you pretty well by now.

Hawke: You do.

Hawke: It wasn’t about that, anyway. Not really. It was good old-fashioned run-of-the-mill cowardice.

Merrill: I don’t believe that.

Hawke: It was. It had already been on my mind, but as that demon spoke I could no longer pretend… I couldn’t ignore anymore that…

Merrill: …Hawke?

Hawke: …that I would rather die than have to see another one of you — to have to bury one more — to fail you all yet ag—... I can’t…I can’t.

Merrill: Oh, Hawke. I’m so sorry.

Hawke: I can’t lead anyone anywhere, Merrill. I’m lost too.

Merrill: I know. I know. We all are. But —

Merrill: But you gave us the gift of not having to walk that path alone. When there was no other shelter in this world, you gave us a home. Please, lethallin, let us give the same to you. You don’t have to lead to anywhere. Just allow us to walk beside you. It pains me to think of you all alone.

You know, I, um — I still have that ball of twine Varric gave me. We could share it, if you want.

Hawke: That’d be great, Merrill. Thank you.

Merrill: I missed you so much. All of you.

Hawke: Even Fenris?

Merrill: Even Fenris. And his scowl.

Hawke: …I missed you too. Ah! That reminds me — I’ve got something for you! A gift.

Merrill: Oh, you didn’t have to —

Hawke: Take it as an apology for all the Wintersend presents I missed while I was away.

Merrill: A feather? Ma serannas, lethallin, it’s lovely! I’ve never seen one like this, what kind of bird is it from? Hm. It’s so big… This is going to sound so silly, but if I didn’t know any better I would have almost though it was from a griff —

…a griff…

…a…???!! :D

Hawke: Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything. Well. What tiny part of everything I actually understood, anyway. …I’m sorry, Merrill. I’m back now, I promise. And you would have made a much better Keeper than you give yourself credit for. Let’s go home.

Merrill: Oh, yes, let’s! Varric let everyone know, so Aveline should be waiting outside the city, and Isabela said she’d pick up Fenris once her ship is ready again, and — and please tell me about the griffons, lethallin, I am dying to know!

(please imagine Hawke doing a frighteningly good 'no shit there I was' Varric impression and then explaining whatever the fuck went down at Weisshaupt here, THE END)

Also some clarifications: Hawke did not kill Anders, he just feels extremely bad about and responsible for everything at all times (he asked Anders to leave and sided with the mages), and Hawke has been travelling with (Circle) Bethany the whole time since Weisshaupt, so that's why Merrill doesn't mention her. She Is Okay, Baby Sister Safe and Accounted For, please do not worry.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #merrill #hawke #my art #this is not ship art but honestly if you want it to be I don't mind lol #my hawke is aro/ace and/or homoromantic demisexual. sort of (it's complicated)#but the friendship arc with merrill has always been special to me. so I made this about it

26 notes · View notes

nudgeling · 1 year ago

Text

Part one

The cheery tune of Queen's "Crazy little thing called love" rang out three times in the hungover silence. Each one chipped a little bit away at Pearl's unconsciousness, but the final third one became the straw that woke her up. She denied the call and turned her head back into the corner of the couch. Her head felt like lead. It rang out twice more before she groaned and finally picked it up.

“Hello?” she grumbled into the cell, eyes still closed.

“Pearl!” The volume made her head spin and ache. “Where the hell are you? I got home and you’re not here, and no one knows where you are, and you haven't picked up your phone in-”

“Please. For the love of God. Stop shouting.” Angry Scottish was annoying at the best of times, but at the moment it was straight up painful.

“I’ll stop shouting when you tell me where you are, I thought you’d been kidnapped or something!”

“Fine, fine, just quiet down, my head’s killing me. I’m…”

She sat up and nudged the sleep-fog out of her eyes with a yawn. When her vision cleared and her surroundings came into reality, she promptly nudged them again because she must have done something wrong the first time around. Then she did it a third time. Everything about the room she found herself was still completely unfamiliar. She came to the begrudging realization that she had no idea where she was.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Maybe I have been kidnapped.”

“What?”

It was a college student’s apartment, that part was clear. Barely three steps to her left was a kitchenette, to the right an ajar door she presumed led to a bedroom, and the hall and bathroom were squeezed in between the two, yet the host still managed to afford a flat screen TV and a PS5. Not to mention the place was as messy as a junkyard, which made her inner cleaning lady scream. Right in front of her was a low table with a collection of various paraphernalia scattered from one end to the other, one of them catching her eye, as it was probably supposed to.

“Oo, hang on, there’s a note.”

It was a striped paper with ripped off stapler-holes on the edge, with a handwriting that was thankfully pretty legible. She skimmed over the words and mumble-read it to Scott on the other end.

Hey, if you wake up before I do, don’t panic. You’re not kidnapped and we haven't hooked up or anything either. You were really drunk yesterday so I was giving you a ride home, but you passed out before you could tell me the address so I let you crash at my place instead. The door is unlocked so you can get out any time you want. Please don’t steal anything.

Martyn

“What does it say? Are you safe?” Scott asked. Apparently her mumbling hadn’t been that effective.

“Do you know who Martyn is?” she asked, ignoring his question because it was second nature to be petty to Scott. It sounded vaguely familiar, though she was terrible with names.

He went quiet for a second. “With a ‘Y’ or an ‘I’?”

“A ‘Y’, it says he brought me to his place when I passed out yesterday. I passed out?”

“I…”

“Not kidnapped anywho, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she muttered, a bit bitterly but she was only human.

“Pearl. Do you remember anything about last night?”

“I fear my head will explode when I think too hard, so no.”

“Oh. Well. Probably for the best. At least you’re safe… hopefully. Just, please be careful around Martyn.”

“Hah, sure, always am.”

“I’m serious, Pearl. If I were you I’d get out of there.”

“So now you care about me?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Naww.”

“Nothing has changed because I don’t want you to be dead. I’m just here to pick up some stuff, call me when you get back.”

“Scott, wait-”

The line went dead. Great. She threw her phone to the floor with as much force her hungover body could manage. It thudded weakly on the floor.

Getting up to a standing position made stars flood to her head and the floor tilt like a funhouse, and she soon fell right back into the squeaky couch. The second attempt was slower but better, and she only had to combat a slight dizziness, plus the ever present beating headache, as she made her way over to the door on her right. She gently pushed it open.

It was way darker inside of Martyn’s bedroom. Thick gray blinds covered the windows, creating black squares with sunlight edges. On the queen sized bed lay a bulging shape beneath the sheets, his shoulders and blonde head peeking out and both hands nestled underneath the pillow. His face was featureless in the dark. She leaned against the doorframe and knocked gently on the door until the figure roused. A couple seconds of bleary orientation passed before he seemed to clock the situation.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Hi.” She gave a small wave. “You said no stealing, but do you by any chance have some aspirin I could, uh, borrow? My head is murdering me.”

“Yeah, uh…” He propped himself up on his elbows and pressed his fingers into his eyes. Pearl sympathized. “Ibuprofen ok?”

“I’ll take anything.”

“Bathroom cupboard, top shelf, blue box.”

“Thanks.”

She closed the door. She hadn’t recognized the voice, so maybe she didn’t know the guy after all. It would be nice to get a proper look at him before she left, but she wouldn’t go out of her way to wake the poor dude up again.

The bathroom was somewhat cleaner than the rest of the apartment. The shower had sleek green curtains, adding a bit of color, which was pleasant. There were two toothbrushes as well, one blue and one green with a red floral pattern. Girlfriend, maybe? She really doubted this guy had a roomie.

Less pleasant was the mirror on the cupboard where she caught sight of her reflection. She looked like she felt; like shit. Sticky hair, smudged makeup, baggy eyes. Her whole body felt heavy and sweaty, and a sniff beneath her arm made her wrinkle her nose and add “stinky” to her current list of adjectives. She hated not being clean. It made her itch.

The blue plastic box was easy to find, and so was the ibuprofen laying on the top layer of part medicinal items and part random junk like hair clips and rubber bands. There was also a fuck ton of bandaids, a bottle of adderall, and a testosterone injection kit, because she couldn’t help being nosy. However, there was a far more interesting item peeking out from the bottom, a prescription bottle that didn’t catch her attention until after she had downed the painkiller and was about to put the box back on the shelf.

It was one of those drugs, those who cartoon characters in TV anti-drug campaigns warned against and doctors only prescribe under uttermost vigilance. The kind she used to take great care to stay away from, the same way she did with cigarettes and alcohol. But that person felt very far away as she held the bottle in her hand. Funny how much 48 hours could change a woman.

She put three pills in her pocket, not knowing until far later the twist of fate that one action had just caused.

Martyn was heading across the living room when she got out. Her wish to see his face was granted. He was dressed in a green T-shirt and jeans, and had the same familiar headband around his head, just like he used to.

"It’s you!" She blurted.

He startled, stopping in his tracks. “It’s… what?” he buffered.

Martyn. That’s why it was so familiar. If she’d been asked to name Grian’s old friend with the bandana she probably could have shaken up the answer sooner or later, but as she hadn’t sent a thought his way for years at that point, the idea that this Martyn was that Martyn hadn’t struck her for a second. He was a background actor in a background memory. Considering the lengths he'd apparently gone to help her, it made her feel pretty guilty.

"I had totally forgotten your name and your voice has dropped by like an octave, I'm so sorry."

He seemed to connect the dots, and suddenly barked a laugh. "You thought I was a stranger?”

“Kind of?”

He chuckled. “I mean, fair, I suppose. Awfully confident asking a stranger for meds, though."

Pearl shrugged. "Fear don’t got much on me these days."

Martyn hummed, like he’d unlocked new character info and was storing it away under the 'Pearl' file.

"Right, well now that you figured out my identity," he continued, "I need to clarify that I'm not normally this messy."

"Girlfriend away or something?"

He went silent, cluing Pearl that she was wrong.

“Boyfriend?”

He went to say something, then hesitated and spoke anew. "I mean, yeah, in a sense. The first one, that is. She uh… we broke up."

“Oh.” As if feeling like trash wasn’t enough, she now felt like an idiot as well. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Silence followed. Fantasies about sinking through the ground or being pelted by a legion’s stash of arrows floated through Pearl’s mind. She cleared her throat.

“Look, I’d like nothing more than to get out of your hair, but is there any chance I could borrow your shower real quick first?”

“Oh, sure, go for it,” Martyn perked. “Want a change of shirt?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I know, I know, just… Would you like one?”

"Uh… do you have anything that fits?"

"I'll see what I can find."

He walked off without another word, and Pearl, after buffering a bit herself, slid back into the bathroom. Scott’s words of warning came back to her, which she found increasingly hard to believe. If Martyn had been flawlessly charming and clean, then she wouldn’t have had any trouble judging him as a problem and potential danger. Instead what she’d been met with was a messy, awkward, probably heartbroken boy who still put his foot forward with kindness. Screw what Scott thought, she liked this guy.

She locked the door, just to be sure.

#hermitcraft fanfic #double life fanfic #trafficblr #pearlescentmoon #inthelittlewood #nudge.writing

11 notes · View notes

simstryingtheirbestok · 2 years ago

Text

15 questions for 15 mutuals

I was tagged by simolemons. Thank you! It's always so nice to be included in these.

I am tagging: @kfvarela, @oasislandingresident, @strangerpxels, @ktarsims, @spaceapples98, @beresimsdreamworld, @ts3strayastray, @kriskalutz, @dandylion240, @miss-may-i, @hazely-sims, @robbybirdy, @tsims, @foreverasimmer, and @kamel-simmer-ts3. If you have already done it or don't care to, please ignore this with gleeful abandon and a song in your heart!

Answers below cut for those who prefer to scroll past.

Are you named after anyone? Not exactly? My mother can't remember whether she saw my name in a book or vaguely knew someone with it.

When was the last time you cried? A few days ago; it was the anniversary of my father's death last year. He was a great dad to me.

Do you have any kids? No.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? In my gameplay posts, constantly. In offline life, rarely. When I was in 7th grade our English teacher made us keep journals (in which I was always writing the assigned 5 pages/week on the day it was due in very large handwriting). But at some point I wrote about a growing unease I was having with sarcasm and the way it could be wielded destructively, and my teacher wrote in the margins, "Often sarcasm is a sign of weakness." My tiny mind was blown by this and I've never forgotten it. Thanks, Mr. Mortensen!

What sports do you play/have you played? My father, for all his fine attributes, did once insist his children play a team sport, so for one year I played what the rest of the world calls football. I was decent at it, but I don't have words enough to express how deeply I hated it. Team sports in general are simply not my thing.

What's the first thing you notice about other people? Their eyes and their energy. When I met my partner's mother for the first time, what registered for me was that (a) she had very twinkly eyes indicative of a good sense of humor, and (b) she was so tightly wound it's a wonder she didn't spontaneously spring into orbit. It's the oddest combination. You never know if you're gonna get good-sense-of-humor MIL or religious-mania-hellfire-and-damnation MIL.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I have the "horror" tag blocked and several horror-themed Simblrs filtered as well, if that tells you anything. I read The Exorcist when I was way way WAY too young to be reading The Exorcist, and it left me with a lifelong aversion to horror.

Any special talents? I was really good at medical transcription, back when that was still a thing. Now I suppose I could claim to cook decently.

Where were you born? One of the original 13 colonies of the United States.

What are your hobbies? Well, we know one of them! Also other games, crocheting, and sewing (badly lmao).

Do you have any pets? Two cats: one gray-and-white shorthaired female with an attitude, and one orange tabby male with neuroses galore. Both strays originally.

How tall are you? I am somewhere between 170-180 cm.

Fave subject in school? C++ programming and the sciences generally.

Dream job? I am firmly antiwork in the sense of performing labor for another person or entity's enrichment. Ideally I would live in a village-style commune and we would all pitch in to ensure our necessities were taken care of, then knock off for the rest of the time to go do things we enjoyed. But in this reality? Games developer.

Eye color? These things are always too nosy about personally identifying information. 😒 They aren't gray, how's that.

#tag meme #tag game #non sims

14 notes · View notes

valentinoappreciator · 9 months ago

Note

i'm back. with more alastor x valentino:333 you missed him, i know i did. and this idea came to me just because my birthday is coming up.

oh, by the way, this is somewhat explicit gore (i guess) so... don't read it if you're sensitive and just ignore this.

first of all, imagine a yandere! alastor with valentino. at first the radio demon doesn't understand this strange feeling in him at the mention, photo or even presence of valentino. he feels disgusted, why would he be interested in that nasty moth?

As time goes by, he becomes more suffocating and decides to make a stop at the Vees' tower. To Valentino's studio, to be exact.

I can imagine Vox noticing and intervening, believing that Alastor is coming to see him. The radio demon laughs loudly.

"Oh dear, did you really think I was coming to visit you? How adorable. But, please, move along. You won't let me see your dear pimp friend... I need a good view of him."

Valentino for his part is confused but the situation amuses him. Alastor came to see him...strange. Still, he agrees when Alastor tells him to go somewhere more private.

The radio demon is direct. Very direct. He tells him everything he's been going through, everything he's been feeling, everything he's been thinking about him and who knows what else. Valentino first looks at him silently and then bursts out laughing like he's never laughed before.

He doesn't believe him. Not at all. He thinks Alastor just wants to play with him and he finds it incredibly comical and absurd. Alastor just stands there, static and his smile seems to grow darker.

That's the end of the conversation. Alastor leaves and Valentino is left with the fact that it was all a joke. And of course, he tells what happened to Velvette and Vox who laugh and tease Alastor with him.

A few days pass, everything is normal. Valentino just goes on with his work and eventually forgets what happened with Alastor... until an anonymous letter arrives.

It's a neat and beautiful letter but the content is... disturbing. Or so Valentino feels for some reason when he reads it. At the end, a signature that reads "Your Darling." and a smile. Haunting.

He decides to ignore it. But more letters arrive. Same handwriting, same signature, same smile, same disturbing content. Now Valentino does begin to question what Alastor told him.

He sends Angel Dust to keep an eye on the hotel for him. To look for any kind of information, to watch him from afar, anything. But Angel gets nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Then Val's birthday rolls around. Usually, he's usually a little excited because well, it's going to be his day. So that serves to distract him from the letters, which he throws in the trash because he doesn't want to look at them because of how uncomfortable they make him feel.

His birthday arrives. He usually spends the day with Vox and Velvette but oh surprise, they're not there. He looks all over the building for them, texts them, calls them all the way to voicemail, but nothing. In the end he chooses to believe they went to buy a great gift for him.

What else could it be? Of course something didn't happen to them... did it?

Later in the day, a letter arrives. Accompanied by a large bouquet of roses. The letter has red ink but the page is stained with it in places. That makes it look weirder. Apparently, someone invites him to a special dinner alone, at the top of the Vees' tower.

Night comes and he goes up. Upon entering, nothing is visible and it is pure darkness. But there is a horrible smell that makes him nauseous. He tries to turn on the light but cannot. And suddenly, a candle is lit on a table that he didn't see in the dark. At the tip, Alastor sits and grooms himself.

"Greetings, my dear! You look ravishing, absolutely ravishing." suddenly, Alastor appears in front of him and takes his hand and kisses his knuckles "Like every day and night..." he murmurs in a voice... hoarse.

He pulls her hand away and walks away. He demands explanations and keeps asking questions and making threats until Alastor interrupts him.

"Easy, love. I'll answer your questions, but first.... let's have dinner!"

Alastor manages to light up the place and Valentino's expression warps in absolute terror.

Around the table, sit Vox and Velvette... or well, the corpses. Vox doesn't have his head, he's missing an arm and several of his wires were ripped out. Velvette has no eyes and her mouth is gagged with her own guts and her legs were ripped off.

"So, dear! What do you want first? Arm? Eyes? Legs? Liver? Or..."

Alastor shows him a cake and Valentino screams from fear.

It's a padtol full of blood, decorated compartes of Vox like his nuts, wires and that kind of stuff (I don't know what Vox is made of, so I'll use my imagination) and you can even see his fingers spread out. As the main decoration, Velvette's eyes and heart.

"Happy birthday, my dear, go on, try some! It tastes just like your friends...”

holy SHIT 👀 👀 This is BRUTALLLL 😍

I'm A FAN omgggg now I wanna try writing something like thisssss 😭

also, hello again!!! tumblr decided I shouldn't be allowed to see this in my inbox, so I had to do some workarounds to find it, but I hope this shows up alright 😭

ALSO ALSO!!! Happy birthday when that comes around!!! <3

#asks #valastor #gore #body horror #character death

3 notes · View notes

take-taker-taken · 1 year ago

Note

Both! I am greedy like that. Hah! But if i were to choose, i’ll take het. Thanks!

OK, lovely Anon - you tested me for sure and I’m sorry this took so long, but here’s my stab at a sub!Taker one-shot. I hope it’s OK…

Catharsis

He kneels, and he waits.

He’s always the strong one. He’s always the one to take the lead, make the decisions, give the orders. That’s what everyone sees and what they expect from him, but they don’t realise just how stifling that can be. That’s why he comes here… not often, maybe every four months or so for a couple of hours. It’s a small window of time where the burden of leadership and responsibility is lifted and all he has to do is follow orders.

Goes without saying that even in a position of servitude, he strives to reach the highest level of attainment. The sweet words of praise that he can earn are like music to his ears when he’s in this particular mindset and if for any reason he doesn’t please, then… well… He welcomes the punishment that’s dealt to him - he’s learned to. She doesn’t care that he’s nearly seven feet tall, broad and muscular - she rules with an iron fist and if she tells him to drop to his knees and crawl, then he’ll do it.

He’d fought against the urge to submit for the longest time… alone in bed at night the fantasies would appear in his head unbidden, seemingly triggered as soon as his hand wandered down between his thighs. At first he pushed them right back out - why would he, of all people, dream about being in chains, being ordered around, about serving another? But as much as he tried to ignore such thoughts, still they persisted until one night he’d been too tired to shove them away and just surrendered… images would settle in his mind, coalesce and tantalise him before shattering to be replaced by others. He’s cuffed and kneeling as someone stands over him with a strong grip on his hair. He crawls obediently across the floor with a collar around his neck, the end of the leash gripped by an unseen figure. He’s tied in place to a frame, a whip striking his back as he strains against the bindings…

The night he finally let those images stay, he came harder than he ever had in his life.

And so he kneels, and he waits - naked; just as the orders said. The handwritten sheet of instructions is always sealed in an envelope and waiting for him on the small table just inside the door. Sometimes there’s meticulous detail - those are the ones he likes best because it removes all doubt and allows him to prove how well he can obey commands. Other occasions, like today, there’s hardly anything… just… kneel and wait.

And so he does.

When he first found this place (on a recommendation from a trusted friend) he found he had to apply and wasn’t that a departure from the norm? People came to him for approval - he never sought it from others. But his need was so great by that point that he squashed down the feeling of embarrassment and attended as requested. They asked him what he was looking for - what he was ‘into’ and he was forced to admit that he didn’t know, exactly. That this was all new to him. Nothing had been new to him in years - another hurdle to overcome… but he told them about the images that came to him at night.

Over the course of a trial session he’d found that he liked - really liked - some kinds of pain, couldn’t stomach any feeling of humiliation and that he was OK with being restrained. At home the next day he’d been keyed up and unable to stop thinking about the things that had happened - they had told him that would probably be the case and he’d felt glad to have been armed with that knowledge.

Over time he submitted to both men and women, the latter being his preference - that added thrill for a generally dominant man such as himself that he would take orders from someone so much smaller and physically weaker than him; it made giving over control that much sweeter. He knows who he’s seeing tonight from the handwriting on the instructions and he’s already half hard in anticipation.

The door opens and heels click slowly across the slate floor, but he doesn’t look up. The black patent boots come into his field of vision and then stop. He knows by now what’s required and so he leans down and presses his lips gently to one foot and then the other before resuming his position.

“Good evening, mistress.”

The woman before him stands at maybe five feet eight in the heels (he’s never seen her barefoot) and lets out a hum of satisfaction as she walks behind him, stroking a hand up one bicep and across his shoulder as she goes.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

He suppresses the shiver that wants to creep over him from someone standing so close and gives a small nod. “Yes, mistress.”

A small hand grasps the roots of his tied-back hair and pulls, dragging his head back until she can look down at him fully. “You weren’t a good boy last time, were you?”

He can feel himself blushing a little as his dick hardens the rest of the way, but answers nonetheless. “No, mistress. I’ll do better this time.”

The blush is because she’s brought back the memory of how he failed her three months ago by cumming without permission. As a virile man with - usually - a good level of control, he’d not been able to hold back well enough to withstand her teasing.

“Let’s hope so.” She lets go of his hair and so he returns to his previous stance, staring down at the floor. She sashays to a cupboard which he knows contains an arsenal of tools and can’t help wondering what she’s planning. “Put this on,” He looks up just as she tosses something over, instinctively shifting a hand up to make a perfect catch. As soon as the item lands in his grasp he realises what it is and suppresses a grimace as he reaches down and obediently fits the cock ring in place.

“That’s better - maybe that’ll help stop you getting overexcited this time around. Stand up.”

He gets to his feet and stands straight as she prowls towards him, automatically holding his arms out when he spots the cuffs that she’s carrying. He watches as she fixes them on - if they’re leather then he’s going to be in them for a while. She pulls the second buckle into place and he chances a look at her. Brunette hair in loose curls skim her pale shoulders, which are bare apart from the straps of a leather bustier top. The zip fastening is done up almost to the top, displaying a delicious-looking cleavage… He always thinks that she has a look that would have fit beautifully with The Ministry. She glances up and catches him staring, so clears her throat to get his attention.

Startled, he meets her eye like a rabbit caught in headlights and braces himself for the slap he’s sure is coming - she’s got a mean right hand. She does make contact, but her touch is gentle and that shocks him just as much as if she’d hit him.

“See anything you’d like, handsome?”

He knows it’s not an offer of course and bows his head slightly, averting his eyes again. “You’re beautiful, mistress.”

“Aww, aren’t you sweet?” Her tone is pleased rather than condescending. She guides his hands behind his back and clips the cuffs together. “Always so polite… makes me want to do bad things to you.”

His dick twitches hopefully and then oh, fuck she’s wrapped her hand around it and is pumping it slowly. He clenches his bound hands into fists, his head falls back and he grits his teeth. It never ceases to amaze him how his feelings of arousal are magnified tenfold when he’s in his submissive mindset - the slightest touch can fray his nerves and have him gasping.

“Careful now - you don’t want to disappoint me again, do you?”

He lifts his head, plants his feet and shakes his head. “No, mistress… no, I don’t want to.”

“Want me to help you take your mind off how horny you are?” Her hand repeatedly tightens and releases around his length and he grasps at the offer.

“Yes please, mistress!”

She lets go at this admission and takes a couple of steps back - the next thing he registers is that she’s holding a riding crop and realises too late what’s about to happen. The leather keeper snaps against the side of his dick and he bellows and automatically bends over.

“Who said you could move?” Her good humour dissipates and she grabs his hair again and yanks on it so that he stands upright. “You wanted my help and so you’ll take it, understand?”

His hard-on throbs - and not in a bad way. “Yes, mistress, I’ll take it… sorry.”

“Have to say… for all the fuss you just made, your dick sure doesn’t seem to mind.” He’s glad he’s looking down because he feels like it covers his blush… his reaction had been a little disproportionate - just took him by surprise, is all. And of course she’s correct in her observation that his erection is just as perky as ever, despite the pain. She extends the crop again and strokes the tip up and down his shaft as he watches, wondering when the next strike will land.

“Push your hips forward more - I feel like you’re trying to avoid my little toy, here.”

He does as she commands, biting down on his lip as the loop of leather slides over his flesh and this time when she delivers the blow to the underside of his weeping cock he’s better prepared and rides out the pain not just once but five more times. As he stands there, breathing hard and with gritted teeth, he lets himself really sink into his submission. No decisions here, no leading… just obey… bliss. The bliss is somewhat interrupted, however, when she takes hold of his balls in a grip that’s just the wrong side of comfortable and it takes tremendous willpower not to try and pull away.

“This doesn’t seem to be working, does it? I mean… here you are getting your dick whipped with a riding crop and,” She tightens her grip on his sac and he can’t help a whimper of pain, “I’m pretty sure that you’re enjoying it. Am I right? Look at me and answer.”

He raises his eyes and allows them to settle on his beautiful tormentor’s face, taking in her cute little button nose (not that he’d ever say that - he values his hide too much), the classic smoky-eye make up framing bright blue eyes and the silver ring that curves around her full bottom lip. He hopes that he looks contrite when he says quietly, “Yes mistress, you’re right. I… I like the pain.”

Her tongue slips out to lick her lips and he unconsciously mirrors the action, thinking how it’s so much easier to look out at seventy five thousand people in a stadium than to face down the woman opposite for very long. She releases his balls and smooths her hands across his broad chest and he feels the tiniest twinge of pride at the enjoyment he can detect in her at the action. It must be a trip for her, he thinks, to have a man his size under her control.

Her fingers settle on his nipples and she begins to gently stroke over and around them, teasing them into hardening and he feels his cock twitch of its own volition. Apparently satisfied with their increased prominence, she closes thumb and forefinger around each one and pinches… softly at first and his eyes fall closed and he flexes his shoulders, as though trying to encourage rougher treatment. She notices and huffs out a kindly laugh.

“Oh, you like that don’t you? You like the way it stings - bet it shoots straight to your dick, doesn’t it?”

“I really like it.” He nods quickly and then swallows thickly before adding, “I… may I have more, please mistress?”

“You are being a good boy,” She praises him with a smile. “You used to come here and be practically mute the whole time and now listen to you!”

He blushes again, pleased that she’s happy with him but at the same time a little embarrassed to think back to his earlier visits and how he must have seemed then. It had taken him a while to let himself be vocal in any way but he’s learned that if he is, then the experience is better all round. She grants his request and rolls the nubs in her grip - gently at first and then oh, so gradually she increases the intensity until he’s openly groaning with the pain. She tortures him like this for a while, backing the pressure off to suddenly bring it back hard, or letting go completely and blowing a cool, comforting breeze across the abused skin before replacing her fingers to pull and twist.

He’s swaying, partly due to her exertions and also because his mind is hazy now that he’s just letting himself be handled. He doesn’t notice her stop completely until her fingers wrap around his dick and she strokes him firmly and then her hand stills and she reaches up and pats him on the cheek.

“OK, handsome - let’s take a little walk.”

So saying, she begins to walk backwards still holding on to his dick and of course he follows, finding an undeniable thrill in being led around this way. They don’t go far and she brings him to a halt just before he steps on to a dark blue cross on the floor. She moves round and releases the clip holding the cuffs together and then crosses to the wall and cranks a handle, lowering a sturdy chain into his field of vision. As she reattaches the cuffs to the chain he understands the aim and steps forward on to the cross as his hands are raised above him. He lets his head rest forward slightly rather than staring at the ceiling - he’s never been in this position before and so he’d rather be able to see what’s going on.

“Mmmm… now that is quite the sight,” She comments as she stands back and admires the view. “Now just wait there for me, there’s a good boy.”

He watches as she crosses to a table and opens a large black bag, drawing out a large flogger that she clips to her belt. She then pulls out a second one… and a third. Another gets clipped on and she keeps hold of the third as she walks back over. She raises the hand holding the flogger up to his face and he knows what’s expected and dutifully brushes his lips against her knuckles.

She taps him on the nose playfully and then moves behind him and he takes a breath as he anticipates the first stroke, but when it lands it’s so light that he barely feels it - the horsehair flogger. This was one of the first implements ever used on him and so he settles, his shoulders relaxing as the speed of the blows across his shoulders increases. On and on it goes and then all of a sudden he realises that it hurts! Not in the ‘traditional’ way, but more of a cold kind of pain - like being sprayed with Icy Hot - that has him twisting to try and evade the falls, which of course is useless.

“Not as easy as you first thought, handsome?” Her voice is light, but knowing.

He shakes his head, still trying to evade the blows without realising. “N- No mistress,” he pants. “It’s… it feels cold… I…” He tails off, so distracted by the constant cold sting that he can’t concentrate on speech.

The blows start to slow down and eventually they stop and he feels both her hands rubbing firmly over his shoulders and that’s when he realises that his skin isn’t, in fact, cold. She drags her nails down his back and he hisses at the sensation and arches his back, even more so when one arm snakes around in front and grasps his dick which is still standing proudly and undeterred about any sensations visited upon his shoulders.

“I want to leave marks on you,” she says, still stroking. “Would you like that?”

He draws on every ounce of willpower he can find to stop himself from thrusting forward into her hand and raises his eyes to the ceiling as he nods. “Yes, mistress. Yes, please - mark me.”

“Good boy…” Her voice is low… sultry. “You’re making me very pleased today, handsome.” She lets go of his leaking cock and steps back into position.

He grasps the chain and relishes the force of the blow that lands across his back - he’s not sure what this flogger is made of but it’s hard and violent and the sting of it… He lets out a loud cry as he feels it penetrate down through every layer of skin and muscle. Two more follow it and his head falls forward with another cry and he fears he’ll pull the anchor point out of the ceiling.

“That’s it… let me hear you. I’m giving what you asked for - what do you say?”

“Thank you, mistress!” The words come out in rush and then another blow lands. “Thank you!”

She pauses and then her hand snakes back around his waist and down, seeking out his arousal. With his head hanging down he sees her neatly manicured and painted nails gliding towards his dick and nearly bites through his bottom lip as she yet again takes hold of it.

“Please, mistress…” He begins, but the intended words die on his lips and he watches helplessly as she jerks him slowly, torturously… the ring is stopping things from going too far - for the moment - but head of his dick is red and weeping pre-cum. “Please…” He says again.

“Please what, handsome?”

He bites back a curse, because she surely knows what he needs but just wants to hear him say it. She looks up at him and twitches an eyebrow, her grip loosening on his cock and shifting down to tease his balls which are drawn up tight. He pants for breath and tears his gaze away and closes his eyes because watching her torment him isn’t helping matters. Besides, there’s no way he can actually look at her and say the words, but safe behind the darkness of his eyelids - he can manage that.

“Please can I come, mistress?”

She laughs - though not unkindly - and moves her hand away. “Not yet. I’m not done marking you up.”

The flogger comes down again, twice in quick succession and shocks him into opening his eyes, the pain firing through him and he cries out again. The next blow lands square across his ass and brings him up on to his toes and the following three keep him there. Every nerve ending is on fire, his chest is heaving and his heart is thumping in his ears… and it’s so freeing. Another two blows are dealt to his shoulders and then she’s back in front of him and reaching for his pecs again. Her nails dig in and she scratches from the centre out, leaving behind white lines that fade to pink before grasping his nipples right at the tip and pinching hard, drawing the grip away until the flesh slips from between her fingers. The pain is bright and sharp and he bellows at the ceiling as the coil deep in his stomach and groin gets tighter.

She unhooks the third flogger from her belt and casually begins to swing it in a circle up between his legs - it’s not hard enough to really hurt, but his sac is drawn tight and the smatterings of unpredictable pressure nearly make his eyes cross. Just as he starts to really worry that he’s going to blow, the motion of the flogger slows and then stops and she gives him a smile.

“Let’s get you down from there.” She clicks her way to the wall and operates the mechanism to lower the chain and separates the cuffs from it, taking a moment to check each of his wrists for chafing. Satisfied, she walks to the other end of the room and takes a seat in the large chair - not quite a throne, but it’s an impressive batwing job. She leans forward, displaying that impressive cleavage, and beckons to him. “Over here. Crawl.”

He’d had difficulty making himself obey an order to crawl the first time but once he’d started and seen the look on the dominant’s face, it suddenly became easier. Again, few of them had ever had the chance to command someone of his stature and the way their eyes lit up spurred him on. He’d crawl over broken glass for this one, though and so he willingly eases himself to his hand and knees and begins a slow prowl over to where she waits. He goes to his knees when he reaches her, gingerly resting his butt on his heels and wondering for the first time about the state of his back. It still throbs, along with his nipples and he’s just as hard as ever.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me, handsome. Would you like to come?”

“Yes please, mistress.” He nods to reinforce his answer, as if his current state of arousal leaves room for any doubt.

“Take the ring off - slowly. And put this on so you don’t make a mess on my floor,” She adds, tossing a foil package down in front of him.

He sees the condom packet land just in front of his knees, but he’s already working carefully to remove the ring in small increments so that the inevitable rush won’t overwhelm him. Slow, deep breaths as he eases it off and sets it to one side and then he tears open the foil and slips the sheath on, the brief cool feeling of the latex helping him stay in control.

“Go ahead,” She says from above him. “I don’t care how fast or slow you do it… but I don’t think you’re much in the mood for teasing, are you?” She leans back and throws one PVC-clad leg over the arm of the chair as she gets comfortable for this private performance.

He closes his hand around his throbbing dick and sighs out a quiet, “No, mistress.”

He tries to string it out but it’s damn near impossible as the events replay in his mind, the cuffs that are still buckled around his wrists a reminder that he’s here at her pleasure. His stroking becomes surer, faster, more determined. Within a short minute he’s groaning out his orgasm, the sweet release ripping through him with a force that threatens to shatter his brain and leaves him gasping for air. A couple of small aftershocks are almost painful and he slumps slightly; sore, exhausted and elated.

“There’s a good boy - I knew you’d be good for me today.”

He looks up and can’t help a small, almost shy smile from playing about his lips. “Thank you, mistress.”

“You’re welcome handsome,” She says magnanimously as she stands up and runs a hand gently over his cheek. She gently takes hold of each wrist in turn and removes the cuffs before placing a small kiss on his temple. “Next time I’m really going to push you,” She says into his ear. “Perhaps a little sensory deprivation - blindfold you so you can’t see what’s next… maybe even a gag, too.”

“I - I think I’d like that, mistress.” His dick gives a hopeful twitch and she lets out a throaty chuckle and kisses his cheek.

She steps back, waiting, and he leans forward and kisses each of her boots again. Scene over.

A wink and a small wave and he’s alone again, naked and kneeling. The feeling of wonderful trepidation gone but replaced with a warm, satisfied glow. Sure, he’s back to being the leader and decision maker but he can deal with that, no problem - he’s got the best method of winding down that he could ever have hoped to find.

TTT

#the undertaker #undertaker #this character lives in my head rent free #taker smut #sub!Taker #Yes you read that right #TTT Tumblr Asks

13 notes · View notes