#upfront ventures

[cheetour]

If you haven't been following Janelle Shane's AI Weirdness blog since 2014 like me, you're seriously missing out on some intelligent, critical writing about AI and predictive text generation, but more importantly: THIS MONTH'S NEWSLETTER IS AI-GENERATED CHRISTMAS STUFF AND LOOK AT IT

"Please generate an illustration where each of the 12 days' gifts are represented in a grid, each day's gift clearly labeled as an aid to someone learning the 12 Days of Christmas carol."

"Please generate a grid with illustrations of each of Santa's reindeer on plain white backgrounds, with the name of each reindeer printed clearly below it."

and, finally, the famous lyric from Jingle Bells feat. a horde of swarming faceless children:

(full post and more info here!)

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a dragon.

It's not so bad, at first. He's an extremely magical sort of dragon so he can easily take on a humanoid shape, and he has dominion over an entire mountain, with a magical gate that leads to his palace. Said palace has a fully stocked treasury, a library, garden, etc, with the only real downsides being that the place is kind of huge and very difficult for a neet with limited housekeeping or landscaping skills to keep up with. The original dragon had enslaved a bunch of fairy spirits to do it for him, but since Shen Yuan has moral objections to that, he'd let them all go and they'd run off before he could even think to offer to hire any of them as paid employees instead. Not that he can blame them for being in a hurry to get gone.

He does his best, and generally enjoys being a dragon lazing on his mountain, or wandering the beauty of his palace and investigating the books and scrolls kept there. He doesn't actually seem to need to eat or drink, so that's not really an issue, and nobody looks keen to bother him. But after a few months the dust starts to really pile up, and trying to figure out how to do his own laundry without modern equipment leads to several disasters, and even though he doesn't need to eat he's starting to think it would be quite nice to have a fancy sit-down dinner and enjoy it for its own sake anyway. He has an enchanted larder but his food prep skills aren't up to much.

So, Shen Yuan ventures away from his mountain. He keeps to his human disguise when he's not traveling, and at first tries to hire on some help from a nearby city. But when he explains that he lives on the mountain, he realizes the difficulty, because everyone in the area knows that only the dragon lives there. So they all think he's either a liar or a fraud, or some servant of a nefarious supernatural creature angling to trick and possibly devour them.

Shen Yuan tries approaching another town in his dragon form, to see if anyone will actually deal with him if he's being upfront and honest about the situation, but the townspeople just panic. He returns to his mountain to rethink his strategies, and in the meanwhile the alarmed locals hire a swordsman to go after him. The guy gives him a few very painful cuts before Shen Yuan mostly-accidentally sends him careening into a boulder. One broken arm later the swordsman is gently persuaded that the pay he was offered isn't worth the effort on this job, and leaves.

Discouraged, Shen Yuan decides he's gonna give this one last try. He picks the second closest city, flies up, and is like yes hello, yes I am indeed a dragon, no I'm not trying to burn down your walls, yes it would be excellent if you stopped shooting arrows at me, look they don't even get past the scales? It's kind of silly? Okay, yes, thank you very much. Good. Now, the thing is, I'm looking for some people. I want to take them back to my mountain with me, to my incredibly nice palace, and -- what was that? A princess? No no I don't want a princess, what would I even do with one? If anything I'm looking for the complete opposite of a princess!

Anyway, the locals take this to mean that the dragon is demanding a sacrifice in the form of a pretty boy of no particular pedigree, and Shen Yuan takes this to mean that he's finally made his case clear and they're going to dig up someone who is willing to overlook his being a dragon in exchange for free room and board and fair wages out of his massive treasury.

SY's a bit disheartened when the entire city could only apparently turn up one such person -- an underfed teenage boy who looks at Shen Yuan like, despite the situation, he is still expecting to be eaten at any moment. Poor thing! But at least having one servant means he can potentially get more, especially if it all goes well. The lad can tell others that working for a dragon isn't so bad! Well, provided that he doesn't give up in alarm at the state of the mountain palace.

For his part, Luo Binghe at first thinks he's definitely going to get eaten, and then that this dragon is weirdly nice about planning to eat him, and then that maybe the dragon has other (even less savory!) plans for him, until finally he sees the state of the dragon's laundry and the foot-thick layer of dust in the corners, and gets completely distracted. Mortal terror forgotten, those floors should not be that filthy, Lord Dragon respectfully that isn't how anyone should prepare rice either, but oh Binghe has never seen a kitchen so nice before in his life...!

Anyway, needless to say, it works out just fine.

[for-a-longlongtime]

Guilty Pleasure (3/7) - dbf!Joel x reader

Sunday dinner with your parents and Joel is... weird. But also hot.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 42), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy' (no real daddy kink), outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 1.7K A/N: I told you part III would follow soon! I had initially planned this for tomorrow, but then I figured I might as well turn dinner with da-- I mean, dinner into a Sunday meal, because why not. 😈 Thank you so much to everybody who has been commenting, reblogging (I appreciate you sharing it with others!!) and liking this fic so far! Things get messy today... let me know what you think. Is reader playing this right, or...?

< part 2 | series masterlist | main masterlist

Surprisingly, it's Joel who is late for Sunday dinner.

Not your father; he’s home early even, looking tired and stressed but trying to put on a front - which is far from the first time you’ve seen him do so. When you were younger, you once asked your mom why he never was more upfront about having hard days. Since he frequently appeared on tv to talk about new ventures or collaborations, you knew that his work wasn’t exactly easy breezy, but whenever you had asked him about it as a kid, he would brush off those concerns. “Somebody’s gotta do it,” or “I’ve got the experience to pull it off”, or any corny variation of that. 

You used to love joining him at his office, something you got away with when you were still in primary school - which you realized later probably had to do with the sizable annual donations your father made to your school. Either way, it was exciting. The massive building where he worked, the technology, all those people looking extremely important in their outfits, swiping access cards in order to get into secure areas, so many meeting rooms, and not to forget the press room. You were in awe, determined to work there when you’d grow up, to follow in your father’s footsteps.

Until things came crashing down. 

The missed plays, PTA meetings, and staying up late weren’t so bad initially. What started bothering you the most was how everybody seemed to give him a pass. Most of all your grandmother. She spoke about how your grandfather used to be in charge, many years before your father took over, and how good he was. How your father was so much like him. Responsible, in charge, a leader, ‘such a good man’. 

And see - that was the problem. Because no matter how well you did at school or with the things you loved to do, it always felt like you were merely in his shadow. You’d never be respected the way he is - because you weren’t like him, or them, which everybody seemed to expect. 

So you decided to not care. Absolutely zero fucks. You didn’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. You were going to do whatever you wanted to do. 

This summer, that meant doing Joel. A lot, preferably.

Joel, sitting at the table with you and your parents, looking all broad in his green flannel, almost having missed dinner this evening - which of course you would’ve gotten shit for if it had happened to you. “Issues at the construction site, damn Tommy couldn’t handle it on his own,” he grouses as your dad puts a beer in his hand, while your mom assures him it is no problem. 

Aside from Joel being so damn distracting with his presence, it’s weird to all be seated at the dinner table on a Sunday. It’s not just that this hadn’t happened since you moved home for the summer; it actually was something that hadn’t happened in many years. While your father is talking to Joel about his work day, you get up and wander over to the fridge to grab a beer, grateful for the hoppy refreshment as it hits your taste buds. Liquor would be better, but this will do for now. You watch your parents and Joel talk, not even being aware of you having stepped away from the table. You finish the rest of the beer and put the empty bottle aside, then grab a new one from the fridge to take back to the table. 

The drink helps you feel a little more comfortable in your own skin, tune out the chatter that you’re not too interested in, and rather take advantage of the opportunity to watch Joel. Perhaps his mouth and hands in particular, as you imagine them on you, feeling that stubble against your own decidedly softer skin; your cheek, or between your thighs, or elsewhere. He doesn’t seem too aware of your eyes on him, talking with your mom about some pergola or something. 

Meanwhile, your father does seem to be paying attention to you, which almost catches you by surprise. But unsurprisingly it takes just a couple of moments until he’s irritating you again. “Were you able to stop by at the DMV to get your license sorted out?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ll get it done, just let it go - okay?,” you sigh, annoyed that he’s bringing it up for the fourth time in a few weeks. “A rideshare to the nearest one is just so expensive. If I could just use mom’s car…”

Your mom pauses her conversation with Joel as she shakes her head. “Without a license? I don’t think so,” she says resolutely. “You’d better figure it out, because I don’t have any time soon to take you over there.”

“Now there’s a shocker,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head when your father’s voice cuts sharp as he asks if there’s a problem. “No, there’s no problem. I’ll take the damn Uber, if I can….”

“I can take you. Tomorrow afternoon.” Joel’s voice barely interrupts you as he doesn’t lift his eyes from his plate, spearing a little cherry tomato with his fork. “Will that make you stop whining? Need to stop at Home Depot after, though.”

The comment thrills you unexpectedly, though that is tempered a lot by the grin you see on your father’s face, no doubt because of the whining comment Joel made. Asshole. “Can’t make any promises,” you respond breezily. “I’m good company in the car though, as long as I control the aux.”

Joel almost snorts at that, shaking his head. “Over my dead body, kiddo.”

*Kiddo*. It stings, you realize, as you hold on tight to your second beer that’s already half empty, your fingers pressing too hard on the chilly glass. You thought that you two had moved past that now - that being around him, and admittedly dropping some not so subtle cues, would have made it clear to him that you are anything but a kid. 

“Well, you’re getting up there in age just like he is,” you say much too casually, leaning back in your chair as you take a long drink of your beer while you nod at your father. “So maybe that won’t be that long from now?”

Your mom hisses your name immediately, looking mortified, but Joel isn’t bothered one bit as he continues to eat his dinner. Meanwhile your dad remains quiet, but the look on his face speaks volumes. You give him a challenging look in return, then finish your beer as you get up from the table again. “Who else wants another drink?”

“I think you’ve had enough for now.” Your father speaks as he takes off his glasses, rubbing his temple as if he feels a headache coming on. “Just finish your food.” You consider ignoring his comment or pushing back some more, but then you get momentarily distracted as the kitchen lights seem to flicker.

“I’m headed out tomorrow at 10 am,” Joel suddenly interrupts your thoughts, now finally looking at you as he reaches for his glass of water. “Don’t be late.”

“For you? Never.” You manage to not bat your lashes as you sit back down and continue your dinner, but your dad is still looking not too amused. He’s easy to ignore though, and as you chew you listen with half an ear to what your mom is saying about some party. It’s not long before your eyes wander back to Joel again, wondering what you could say or do that actually would get under his skin. 

He’s sitting right across from you, and without thinking too much about it, you slip your right foot out of your sandal, slouching down a little in your chair. Your heart is racing as you try to calculate the odds of getting it right, but then in an opportune moment when your dad leans over to Joel to talk to him about something, you extend your leg under the table and check whether you can reach Joel’s leg with your bare foot.

When Joel pauses his conversation for a moment, seemingly to gather his words, you know that he most definitely feels your foot against his calf. His eyes flash to you for a quick second, and you innocently smile at him as you slowly run your foot up a little higher, to his knee, while considering how far you could slide it against his thigh without it being noticeable to anyone else.

Meanwhile your dad reaches for the bread basket between him and Joel, taking out a dinner roll, and your heart beats faster when you feel Joel’s leg twitch against your foot. “Could I have the bread basket, please?”, you ask your dad, who nods as he picks it up and hands it to you. 

You take the basket from him, picking one of the rolls - and as your dad looks over at your mom who is telling him something, you bring your glance back to Joel. He’s staring right at you now as you’re still rubbing your foot against the inside of his calf, and you see his throat work as he swallows.

“Thank you, Daddy.” 

Joel immediately flushes and clears his throat, shifting his chair back a little so your foot can’t reach him anymore, and he reaches for his water so fast that he almost knocks the glass over. You can’t help but giggle, sinking your teeth into the soft bread as you’re feeling pleased - so the man *does* have a weak spot. It just takes the right approach to hit it.

“Think I’m gonna go clean up from work,” he announces as he pushes his nearly empty plate back, giving your mom an apologetic look. “Been a long day. The food was so good, though.”

“The food’s wonderful.” Your dad nods in agreement as he takes the last bite of his bread. “Did you still want to hit up the gym?”, he asks Joel as he reaches for their plates as he gets up from the table. “I’ve got about an hour now before I need to head out again.”

You dig your nails deep into the palm of your hand under the table as you watch the men leave the room, your eyes following Joel’s every step. Fuck, he’s hard. Or at least has a semi in those jeans. It makes you feel giddy and accomplished, and you can’t wait to tell your friend about this latest development.

next: part 4 >

series masterlist | main masterlist

🚨 Follow @longlongtime-updates to be updated when the next part drops!

[froggibus]

Venture x short fem reader x junkerqueen head cannon

Nsfw is up to you

Dating Junkerqueen & Venture Headcanons

Pairing: Junkerqueen x reader (has a pussy but no pronouns are used) x Venture

Genre: fluff + smut beneath the cut

CW: poly relationship, jealousy, JQ is referred to as Dez/Odessa, manhandling, full nelson, face fucking, size kink, teasing, edging, overstim, strap on, double pen, fingering, threesome, praise/degradtion aftercare ftw * reader is short & can be carried/lifted by Sloan & Dez (tho they are strong as FUCK I think JQ could bench press a car)

hey hi thanks for the request! i really like writing short reader cause i myself am not short :,) but it is nice to pretend...i went a little crazy with the NSFW so hopefully you're into that lol

This post contains NSFW content. Minors read the warnings & please do not read past the NSFW cut.

(have these two actually met in the lore? 😭 I haven’t read their short stories in so long cause none of them interest me)

these two can be a match made in heaven, or something out of hell

Odessa is SUCH a tease and given she’s 7 feet tall she WILL give you a hard time

loves putting stuff in high places just so she can watch you struggle to grab it until you sheepishly ask for her help

Sloan can go either way honestly

sometimes they’ll join Dez in teasing you, sitting there with their arms crossed while you pout and try to grab it

other days they’ll put those big muscles to good use and help you up

both of them think you’re adorable & always manhandle you

Odessa specifically loves hoisting you on her shoulders when you’re watching fights in Junkertown

or throwing you over her shoulder when you’re going to bed

Sloan is more lowkey, but a lot of the time if you’re sleepy or tired they’ll gladly carry you to bed

also BOTH are super protective of you (even if they don’t mean to be)

they both know you can defend yourself but they still wanna let it be known to everyone that they’re looking out for you

Dez is way more upfront about it…anyone who talks badly about you or is a little too aggressive will pay a harsh price

Sloan is more lowkey, maybe they’ll throw a glare or something, but they let Dez take the lead

they occasionally try to talk her down if she’s scaring the hell out of some poor girl that accidentally bumped you

they are a NIGHTMARE in bed to deal with I’m so sorry

Odessa in herself is already a handful…she’s such a tease and with your size, can manhandle you however you want

the two of them could spend HOURS edging you until you’re crying and begging to cum

Sloan feeds off of Odessa’s energy too, so if Dez is in a very dominant mood, oftentimes Sloan is too

I promise they’re nice to you sometimes too (rare)

you’ll be trapped between the two of them, Sloan making out with Dez above your head while they finger you

Dez will be groping you and shoving you further into Sloan’s touch

eventually they’ll grow tired of playing with you and that’s when the real fun begins

Odessa LOVES fucking you with a strap or sitting you on her face

she’ll hold your thighs and pull you down while she absolutely devours you

Sloan usually takes this as an opportunity to use your mouth however they please

the combination of Sloan’s praise and Odessa’s dirty talk is a WHIRLWIND

Dez will be fucking you from behind with her strap, gripping your hips and laughing about what a whore you are

and Sloan will be fucking your face, running their hands over your cheeks and head, murmuring praise

or sometimes Odessa will fuck you full nelson, her strong arms under your thighs and your back to her chest

meanwhile Sloan slowly pushes themselves inside of you next to Odessa, rubbing your clit to help you adjust

the two of them fucking you is a lot

there have been times where they’ll take turns playing with your mouth

Odessa will grab the back of your head and shove it into her cunt, her and Sloan fighting for dominance over who gets to ruin your pretty mouth

aftercare is AMAZING

they’re both a little new to it, but Sloan goes crazy overboard

drinks, snacks, bath—they’ll do it all for you

Odessa is a little awkward in the afterglow, but if you tell her what you need, she’s more than happy to get it for you

masterlist | overwatch masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[anantaru]

cw. none, calling him a petname for the first time, gn! reader

a/n. this was actually so much fun to write that i already plan to post headcanons with the same trope <3 enjoy!

"this dinner is important, okay?" you, in a determined muse, sing over to alhaitham. you knew he would attempt to wiggle himself out of this serious situation yet ventured to carefully twist your voice into his mind, until it's walking over the tunes expelling from his earphones.

you move on, "plus— it's not just 'any' dinner, don't call it that!" while, in all your pearly brilliancy, glance over to your boyfriend from under lowered brows, your amused expression being crocheted in a pettish course of action.

"so don‘t be late, —okay?"

under different circumstances, the thought of practically ordering your boyfriend around for something such as this would never even cross the simplest thought of yours, yet the mentioned dinner in particular was one held of graven significance for a future endeavor— to say it was to be taken serious was an understatement.

"understood, there's no need to repeat yourself." alhaitham notes, wilting a little in the glaring confidence of your words.

irregardless of his choice in mannerism and tone— it being as dry as the large deserts in sumeru and parched, if you didn't know any better it audibly sounded as if alhaitham was actually rolling his eyes at you.

it's not like he wasn't your biggest supporter, because in reality, he was. there hadn't been an instance in your life where your boyfriend wasn't the most important pillar of assistance and aided to navigate you through a severe spell or serious time.

yet, if you consider paddling back to actually give yourself a moment to observe his sweet frame of mind, the perception of inscribed responsibility was purling into alhaitham‘s bones and tensing muscles a little too quick, jolting through his limbs— because, he downright abominates working overtime, or perhaps it was something different this time.

was the oh so renowned and fetching acting grand sage of the nation of wisdom, a victim of the so called, 'nervousness' scholars were chatting about? might be, or maybe, only maybe, he was simply not looking forward to doing something grating instead of spending a nice evening in his safe home together with you.

but he makes you smile, there was a spark of interest in his eyes before;

"thank you my love."

uhm— okay wait. hold on. just this second.

given that it was the evening approaching and alhaitham had been working all day, he, at the outset, had not seriously noted the last two words of your sentence, well, not before you inched closer to where he was resting at— the large green couch in his living room more inviting than prior to this winsome situation.

"you're the cutest and sweetest and bestest my love." you do not move any closer, instead, you shyly tangle your legs over his own before half way smushed in his lap.

on a dime, alhaitham curses the inability of himself to control his body when he was around you. how does one possibly respond to this?

a nickname, he never had been called something of that sorts by anyone, not in a positive regard— except the usual mean spirited ones from his roommate. but the scribe never viewed them as something that had to be used or maybe he never thought about it more upfront.

"my? love?" he slants his head to the side to look at you, a heave following from his chest at your proclamation, "yes, my love." you smile back, undoubtedly catching a sheer fade of redness planted on his scorching cheeks, in addition, there was a heaviness in his arms, but a warm feeling in his heart.

"that's a new one." alhaitham mutters and notes it in his memories.

"most of the times i'm being called a jerk." it's true, he was, however luckily you weren't just anyone. you angle your body closer to be comfortably seated on his lap now, before bending your head forward to settle an airy kiss on his cheeks. "you're not a jerk to me though."

alhaitham didn't respond, the thought of prolonging this conversation was as tiresome as the dinner you had planned out for later. nevertheless, what he did do was smile, distantly, scarcely perceivable.

but you caught it, how he noted it yet again and on how priceless and wonderful you were to him.

2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[useeer]

Dance with me?

Venture, aka Sloan Cameron x reader

You're at your friends wedding, and somehow meet the cutest damn person in the world.

Tags: fluff, strong language, slight sexual innuendo

Enjoy!!

[Note: I haven't written a fic in 192739 yrs, and my ass hasn't been to a wedding since I was 10 so forgive my ignorance abt how they go!!]

You weren't exactly a party person.

Parties are loud, crowded and really socially taxing. While yes, you'd attend parties here and there; mostly birthdays or accomplishments for friends and family. It still wasn't your favorite thing to do. You are actually pretty upfront with others about how little social interaction you can handle. That being said... fear of disappointing your friends usually got the better of you. They were fine, partying was fun. 

Honestly, you'd be lying to everyone if you said you weren't thinking about your soft, cozy bed. Or how you were daydreaming about cuddling up to your pets and watching silly videos. Not even this beautiful wedding could curb your introvert nature.

It's evening now, the golden rays barely peeking over the horizon as it descends. A sweet, cool autumn breeze blows, ruffling your clothes and hair. A welcome comfort on this warm night.

The setting is truly beautiful. Soft, golden glowing lanterns are strung along the edges of the venue. Lush green plants in decorative pots line the edges. The pillars, stone and brick, are painted in the gentle glow of the lamps and lanterns. The style...is Greek? At least you think it's Greek. If someone told you otherwise, though, you'd take their word for it. Especially since half the people here are from the Wayfinder Society, all attending as friends of the groom. The wayfinders are sprinkled around the venue, chatting about and having a grand old time.

You? No such luck, you're only attending for your friend, who happens to be the other groom. While you know a handful of people, and did polite chit chat with them, you mostly stuck to yourself. Actually, that's a lie, you mostly stuck to the snack table. You're leaning by the side of it, plate in hand, trying just about anything there. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? 

While eating a particularly good cube of cheese, you let your eyes wander the room. You see a group of people laughing, another group chattering amongst themselves, one enthusiastically waving their hands in the air, seemingly very passionate about the subject. You snort, amused. Drifting eyes finally move over to the husbands, who were talking to an older couple, a quick hug is given here and there. 

Man. You were bored.

You weren't trying to be disrespectful here, you just didn't know anyone. Subconsciously, your leg starts bouncing, your thoughts dance to your fluffy, comfy bed. Reaching down for another snack on your plate, you’re disappointed to see they're all gone. Frowning a bit, you look over the table to see if there's anything else you'd like to try.

And boy, was there. The chocolate hair, the hazel skin, your eyes instantly locked onto the person plating their own food. They're dressed in a white button down, and black slacks, the sleeves of their dress shirt hugging them favorably. They even had a cute little yellow bowtie on. You couldn't tell their pronouns, so you figure you'd ask if you ever spoke. Which you weren't, you didn't want to intrude. They looked to be the same person absolutely raving earlier, you'd hate to keep them from it.

If they wanna speak to me, they will. You thought distantly, watching their hands as they pluck up a cupcake. 

Workers' hands. You mused, they seemed rough, and strong. They must be one of those Wayfinders. Your eyes trail their fingers, the back of their hand, man...they have really nice hands. Unbeknownst to you, your staring hasn't gone unnoticed. Their hands stills, just before the confectionery hits the plate. 

"Uhm... did you want this one?" They ask someone, curious, you look up to see who they're talking to. You finally get to see their face properly, and man they're gorgeous. Too bad you didn't have time to appreciate that fact, as your eyes instantly locked with theirs. You realize a little too late that you're the one they're talking to.

"Huh." Is all you manage to get out, unsure what the fuck to say to this stranger.

"The...cupcake?" They say, motioning it towards you. "Did you want it? You're staring at it like you want it." They say, clearly confused by the way you ogled their food.

"No- no I don't want it. I'm so sorry, ignore me." You cover your face and wave a hand in their direction, this is the worst thing you've ever done. Your face and ears burn in red hot embarrassment, you're just lucky they thought all you wanted was the damn cupcake.

They seem to find it a little funny now, how you're running away from the cupcake you were practically stalking as it left the platter. "Okayyyy, well then this is mine!" They joke, putting it onto their plate before strutting away, seemingly unperturbed by your god awful screw up.

God, you needed to sit down. 

You're practically on fire, feeling like you're gonna break into a sweat. Shakily, you find a chair in a less populated area and take a seat. You bend over, putting your face in your hands and elbows on your knees, as if trying to hide yourself. While you know, reasonably, that this isn't the end of the world, you can't help but feel like it is. You got caught! Red handed! 

Yes, they thought it was the cupcake, so maybe you weren't totally fucked. But also, you're totally fucked who are you kidding?!

You didn't exactly think you'd interact with them before, but it's awful your only interaction was weird and unseemly on your end. Groaning quietly, you remove one hand from your face to fan yourself, damn you feel stupid. 

You fan open part of your outfit, hoping in vain to let more air in to cool yourself down. Freaking out like this isn't a good look. After a couple minutes, you start to feel a little better. The flush of your cheeks is fading, and you miraculously avoided breaking into an anxious sweat. 

Sighing, you puff out your lips, you just sent texts to your closest friend about how massively you fumbled the bag. They laughed at you, while you scream-spammed the chat in horror. They did end up reassuring you that you were overreacting, that it was not in fact the end of the world. You thanked them before turning off your phone. You get up, dust yourself off a little before wandering back to the food table; finding yourself in front of the disposable drink cups, grabbing one. Gazing to the left, you find the water. You watch the water slowly drizzle into your cup, before downing the glass in a couple large gulps. Still thirsty, you fill it up again before returning to your seat.

Man, what a day, go to a beautiful wedding, see your friend get married, then fumble the biggest bag ever. You mentally kick yourself, even though on the outside, you look completely normal, sipping on your cup naturally.

Bouncing your foot a bit, you lean forward to scroll on your phone, hoping to find something interesting to pass the time and distract you. You're scrolling for about 5 minutes before someone sits next to you. Out of politeness you don't look, thinking it's another guest needing a seat. 

"Soo, about that cupcake. I ate it, definitely. But I felt a little bad. Here." The person next to you says, snapping you out of your doom scrolling. 

Why. Why why why. Is all you can think. They're fucking with you, haunting you. All over a cupcake. You look over and see they've got a small plate with another damn cupcake on it.

"Oh im- I'm not hungry anymore, thanks though." You try to nicely deflect, hoping they'll catch the hint and let you die in shame, alone. 

"Hmm, okay!" They say, they turn to face forward, unwrapping it for themself. They take a bite and bounce one of their legs, and you wonder why they're torturing you. They hum to themself as they continue to eat.

God. Please just go away...

They put their plate down and dust their hands, somehow already finishing the sickeningly sweet treat. "So." They state, placing both hands on either side of their seat, leaning forward, looking towards you. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself?" They ask curiously.

"Well uh-" You clear your throat, "My friend’s the groom, it's his wedding. But I don't really know anyone else but him." You shrug, trying to relax and ease into conversation with them.

"Yeah, know how that feels." They say, sympathetically. "Wellll." They draw out the word, as if to emphasize it. "I was thinkin’ you could come to our table! I hate seeing anyone left out." Their smile is reassuring, until they start smirking. "Even. If. They stare at other people's food." 

Ok, you can't help it. You groan at their jab, while dragging a hand down your face. "Man, you will not drop that, huh?" You say, only a little less embarrassed this time. 

"Nope!" They tease, clearly getting a kick outta this. 

"You know what, I barely know you and you're already the worst." You joke, and your brain nearly breaks in two when they giggle at it. Their shoulders shake and they grin, still looking at you. You can't help but smile, even while trying really hard not to. They were stunning, cute and worst of all, infuriating. 

"Sorry for staring earlier...I was trying to see... your cufflinks." You say, clearly lying. As if desperately attempting to get out of the cupcake joke jail.

"Hmmm." They hum, unbelieving, eyebrows raised and nodding. "Well, too bad I don't have those." They smile, raising a hand up to show off their sleeve. 

You instantly cringe, caught once again. "Oh right." You mumble out, pursing your lips. Damn, you're fighting for your fucking life over here.

Your reaction makes them laugh. An honest to god laugh, and it's loud. They're finding WAY too much amusement in proving you wrong and you don't know why. Despite the embarrassment, you were now enjoying yourself. Talking to them, joking around, even if it's at your expense. Their laugh is almost contagious, and they've got the prettiest smile you've ever seen. 

"So.. what's your name?" You ask, your left hand fiddling anxiously at your side. Their laugh simmers down, and they sigh like they just heard the funniest joke in the world.

They hold their hand out towards you, "Sloane, yours?" You grab their hand and shake it, their grip firm. Your brain almost short circuits, realizing how much larger their hand is to yours. You say your name, and they repeat it. 

 

"It's nice to meet you!" They say, shaking your hand once more before letting it go.

"Sloane is a really pretty name." You state, trying to make conversation. Totally, 100% not flirting with them, of course.

"Awe shucks, you think so? Well I like yours too." They shoot back, their cheerful glow never dropping. They look over, and you do the same. You see them eyeing the table they came from. It appears someone stole their seat. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." You immediately apologize, feeling bad that their place was taken while talking to you. They shake their head and huff a little laugh, their curly hair bouncing. 

"Why're you sorry? Don't be. Plus, it's no biggie." They say nonchalantly, genuinely unphased. They crack a smile and lean forward, as if they're sharing a secret. "Don't worry, I'll get back at them." They whisper, a mischievous gleam in their eyes.

You giggle, and pull back a little. "What're you gonna do huh?"

They pull an inquisitive face, staring up at the ceiling almost performatively. "I dunno! Maybe I'll put confetti in all of their tents!" They announce, toying with the idea. You couldn't tell if they're serious or not. 

"You probably shouldn't do that." You jokingly warn, thinking abt how much of a pain confetti would be to get out of a tent. Much less the sleeping bags. 

Sloane grins, shining that gorgeous smile again. They seem to be the happiest person in the world. "Well, that's what they get for kicking me out of my own seat!"

You shake your head and let out a small chuckle, "You really are something."

They push you by the shoulder a bit, "I'm a great something I'll have you know." They joke, before settling back in their seat. 

Silence settles over the two of you for a bit, and it nearly becomes unbearable. That is until music begins to play. The lights towards the middle of the room light up, and the rest are dimmed to create a spotlight effect. The happy couple's chosen song is playing, and you watch as they approach the center of the room, beginning to dance. You smile, and awe at the sight. Seeing your friend so happy and glowing was truly a treat.

Sloane also watches, they love parties and weddings. Seeing two people so in love is one of life's many treasures. They look over towards you and see you recording your friends dance, they allow a small smile creep onto their face. They admire your side profile and the way your hair compliments you perfectly. You are eye-catching, and the way you practically folded over a cupcake earlier was hilarious. They love funny things, so they've GOT to get to know you. Exploring is one of their favorite things after all. 

They settle back and turn their attention to the dance. Eventually the music begins to wind down, and one of the grooms leaves the dance floor. It's the parents' dance, they think. Now that it isn't your friend out there, you click off the record button and look over to Sloane.

"So, what brings you here?" You ask, making conversation with them. They turn their head to face you, their hands loosely clasped together on their lap. 

"I'm from the wayfinders society! The other groom, Rey, is my good friend." They chirp, pointing at your friends now husband. "Y’know, me and him got lost once in a cave! Scary stuff, didn't know if we'd make it out." They said dramatically, waggling their fingers in your direction. 

"You serious??" You furrow your brow, and lean forward incredulously. Their warm dark eyes look back to their friend, and they nod. "Yeah, it was a couple years ago. We lost sight of our team, and couldn't find our way out. I ended up drilling us a new exit. Real risky doing that but we didn't have a choice." Sloane recounts, "Could've been worse!" They add, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"That's crazy, I could never do anything like that." You tap your foot against the ground, even thinking about that type of stuff gets you wound up.

They turn back to you with a hum and smile, "Well, you never know until you try! Exploring is the best thing I've ever done for myself, I love it. Seeing what the world was like before us… finding the rocks and gems the earth has made. It's real worth it." Their passion is evident, every word they speak has them glowing. You admit it's rather charming, seeing them so in love with their work. 

"Man, that's so cool." You state warmly. "You got a really cool job, Sloane. You got the job little kids dream of." 

They smile genuinely, really happy with the thought. "Well my abuela always said to follow your dreams, so I did. What about you? What's your dream?" They gently nudge your shoe with theirs.

"Hmmm, well. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out." You hum, looking at the ground. Your interests aren't nearly as exciting as theirs. Working one dead end job to the next, just trying to make ends meet. "Thinking tattooing, honestly." You add, looking up at them.

Sloane gasps, eyes widening. "That's so awesome though! I love tattoos, I've got at least four or five." They pull down the collar of their button down to reveal more of the flames tattooed across their neck. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already noticed it. Wanting to see how far down it goes.

Quickly, you bat those thoughts away. Sticking to complimenting the line work and blocking of their tattoo. You ask what others they've got, and they explain all the patchwork they've got done on their arms. Some historical, some cool, some just to have a piece of the places they've been. They even mention a larger one on their thigh, a dinosaur skull with flowers. You try not to sound too interested in seeing them while asking if they have pictures. 

The conversation between you and Sloane runs smoothly, chattering about your lives and cracking jokes at one another's expense. The dancing at the party is now in full swing, guests of all types littering the dance floor. It's now completely dark outside, save for the lighting inside the venue. The lamps hanging from the ceiling are dimly glowing, the lanterns now back to their full glow. You even spot fireflies outside the venue, blinking on and off, flying into the wedding space and out. The place is truly beautiful.

The strumming of a bass fills the venue, an electronic guitar complimenting it perfectly. You recognize it instantly, as it's a song you've come to enjoy. Your new friend, Sloane, practically jumps out of their skin in excitement. They quickly whip their head to look at you while whisper shouting, "I love this song!!"

They bolt up, staring at the dance floor as both their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. They twirl their whole body around, looking at you with an outstretched hand, "Come dance with me??" They frantically blurt out.

You look dumbly at Sloane before slinking back into your chair a bit, cringing. "No no- I don't dance." While waving a hand in their direction dismissively. You're hesitant and it's obvious. The idea of getting in the middle of a bunch of people and dancing. God, not what you were made for.

You were telling the truth, you don't dance! Anyone seeing you attempt to dance may need an ambulance. Sloane slumps by your reaction, and pokes conversationally, "Aww c’monnn, pretty please? With cherries on top? One song?" They say, leaning backwards a bit on the heels of their feet while keeping their upper body forward. They begin pouting a lip out and sporting their best puppy dog eyes, hoping it'll help sway their case. 

Nervously, you rub your pointer finger across your thumb. This is not what I signed up for, you think as your lips form a line, eyes locking with Sloanes, trying to will yourself into saying no.

Damn.

You can't. You can't say no! You know you'd kick yourself later if you left without dancing with them. They're everything you like in someone, striking, funny, passionate... You internally groan, searching their dark eyes for a way out. Sadly, there isn't one. Their eyes only plead and beg.

And well... who are you to deny them?

Breathing in a deep, deep sigh, you fold, "Okayy. Okay." You say, holding both hands up, signaling defeat.

Sloane is about to shout out a glorious, loud YES before you cut them off with a finger up. "But first, a shot of liquid courage." You say, pushing yourself up from your chair, walking towards the end of the food table. There lay countless plastic shot glasses full of vodka. You pluck one from the rim of the platter.

Sloane watches as you down the drink, admiring the way your throat moves to swallow. They snort when they see you pulling a face.

"C'mon- c'mon- the song is already going." They bounce, having to fight the urge to just drag you onto the dance floor themself. Shaking your head, you wipe away the grimace on your face and discard the tiny shot glass into the nearby garbage.

They grab your hand and pull you into the crowd, though they seem somewhat aware of your aversion to it. So they lead you towards a less populated end of the floor, despite this, nearly everyone at the wedding was dancing. So you were still around a decent amount of people. They smile wide, looking off into the gaggle of party goers. You find it ironic this is the song you're dancing to, the lyrics playing loudly.

We've got nowhere to go

We've got nothing to prove

Instead of dancing alone

I should be dancing with you

The lyrics are slightly erotic, even, but you don't have much time to ponder it when they turn back to face you. They release your hand, before snapping their fingers in tune with the beat and swaying their hips. You giggle, your cheeks and stomach buzzing from the alcohol. Unfortunately for Sloane, you do not know how to dance. Not well at least, they laugh, watching you sway awkwardly. "You don't dance do you?" They ask, almost having to shout to be heard over the clamor of people and music.

"No, not really!" You reply, before admitting, "I don't wanna look dumb!" 

"Look dumb?! I'll show you dumb." They jest, backing up a bit to give themself some space. With their eyes locked onto yours, they bend their knees while bringing their right hand towards their head, palm open. They're walking towards you sideways, left hand swiping back and forth to their side and front. You about shit yourself, recoiling in shock and laughing. They continue though, bringing both hands up in fists towards their head, pumping them as they shake their hips, still approaching you. 

"What are you doing!!" You shout, cracking up at their absurdity. They finally pivot fully towards you, bending forward and moving their hands in circles. They finish off their charade with a performative strut your way, palms open in a dramatic walk. 

They laugh, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you further into the floor. "I'm dancing!! You should try it sometime!" They jive, sticking their tongue out. "I'm just saying, no one can look sillier than me!" You roll your eyes and shake your head. The smile never leaving your face.

They grab your other hand and start dancing for you, swaying you side to side. You can't help but giggle, letting them have their fun. You sway your hips and release their hands, moving yours back, snapping your fingers while doing circles and stepping side to side. Their grin widens and they yell, "Hell yeah! get it!!" Encouraging you. 

Smiling big, you continue attempting to dance with them. Sloane closes their eyes and lets themself feel the music, they move their feet expertly, and their arm movements intentionally. Seeing this makes you realize they definitely know how to dance. Your eyes explore them, their body and the way they move. It feels dirty watching them like this…But they invited you to dance, you think maybe they want you to watch them. Enjoy them, drink them up. 

It feels as though they've already wrapped you around their finger. You feel sadness bubble that the song is already ending. Luckily the next song that plays doesn't disappoint, more bass-y than the last. This one still just as popular as the day it released. 

You let yourself loosen, swaying your full body in rhythm with the bass as the song goes on. Sloane is looking at you again, and you daringly strut around them, stepping in beat with the drums. Alcohol does wonders for self esteem. They wait for you to come back around before stepping close, pulling you in by the hand. You raise an eyebrow, checking them with a grin, before gleefully walking back, shuffling your feet in tune with the music then pulling them towards you. They follow excitedly, their foot work impressive as they step towards you. They raise your held hand up as they approach and you twirl around to face them once more. Confidence runs through you at this point, letting go of the hand above you. You bring your free hand up quickly, placing it on their chest before grabbing their opposite hand. They're grinning so hard, pulling back, until your arms are taunt. Then jerking you towards them, you turn so your back hits their chest. Sloane has one hand around your front, hugging you just beneath your chest. The other holding your hip, their head resting next to yours. You both just sway now, enjoying each other's company and the music. "This okay?" They ask in your ear, the tone in their voice dropping low.

"Huh?" You say loudly, turning to face them. 

"I asked if this is okay!" They announced a little louder, and closer to your ear.

"Yeah!" You affirm happily, like this is the best day of your life. 

Do I wanna know?

If these feelings flow both ways.

Sad to see you go.

Sorta hoping that you'd stay.

Baby we both know.

That the nights were mainly made for sayin' things.

That you can't say tomorrow day.

Dancing with them like this, swaying side to side feels almost romantic. And you're having a really hard time ignoring that fact. That coupled with your already burning attraction has you dizzy. You could stay here forever. Another song passes by, and you both continue dancing with one another. At one point, you fumble through a waltz before they twirl and dip you. Despite having the time of your life, exhaustion was quickly catching up. Feeling a bit hot, and tired, holding both their hands, you turn around.

Looking up at Sloane, you truly get to admire their beauty. They've got beautiful curls, swooping and gentle. Their hair is natural, soft looking, and when you danced you could even smell their shampoo. Their eyes are a deep brown, rich like the dirt they so love digging through. You finally notice their eyebrow piercing as well, and you bite your lip. It suits them. You think. 

The longer you analyze their features, you wonder how the hell they're even real. How someone could look as perfect as them, be as charming as them. It nearly drives you mad. They smile a little, their eyes darting away. Their flushed cheeks grow a little redder at your prolonged staring. You smile a little, this is the first time you've seen them at least a little bashful. It's adorable.

The music is playing quietly now, seeing as most of the guests vacated the dance floor. Only a few stragglers are left, you included. So now you can properly talk to them.

"You know earlier... I wasn't exactly looking at the cupcakes…” You purse your lips, and squint your eyes, as if to will yourself to get the words out.

“I was staring at you." You chew your lip, looking away shyly. This confession could make or break this… whatever this is. You certainly don't wanna break it. While nervous, you had a feeling they would respond positively.

Their eyes snap back towards you, and they let themself smile, raising an eyebrow. "Ohhh, I'm that pretty, huh?" They tease.

You sigh and roll your eyes, they really are such a bastard. "Yeah yeah, whatever." You mutter, playfully pushing their shoulder. Not risking stroking their ego any further.

"No no, tell me, was it the bowtie?" They snicker, pushing their chest out a bit to really show it off. 

You shake your head, running your hands up from their own and readjusting their accessory. “Yes, it was the bowtie, all I wanted was you, bowtie.” You whisper at their chest, pulling the sides of the bow.

“Psh,” They chuckle, “Okay for real! What was it, huh?” They say, flashing their signature grin while raising their eyebrows suggestively. Perhaps telling them was a bad idea, you purse your lips again, realizing they'll bother you forever until you tell them. It seems like they're DYING to know.

You hum, dropping your head onto their chest. With one hand still on their chest, you let your other trail down their arm before grasping theirs, bringing it up towards you. Flipping it palm up, you let your free hand lightly touch their palm. "Your hands, I like them. I was looking at them." Dragging your fingers along their palm, you feel every callous and rough patch of skin. You turn them over to admire their nail polish and knuckles. You even start to massage in-between their fingers, just soaking up the fact that you can touch them like this, and they're allowing you to.

They seem to be at a loss for words, and you figure that doesn't happen too often. Smiling, you walk your fingers up their arm and to their shoulder to rest it there, bringing your other arm up to mirror it. Their hands come up to your waist and bring you close. While enjoying the embrace, you weren't expecting them to shake you and hug you in tightly. They groan into your shoulder, as if frustrated. You puff out a laugh at their weirdness. 

"Sorry- you're just so cute." They say, pulling back. "I just met you and you already got me in stitches." They admit, kicking the dirt by your feet. You figure instant attraction to a stranger is just as new to you as it is to them.

"Well..." You start, not even sure what to say. "We can… go back to my room? I'm staying at a hotel nearby. We can hang out, talk...see where it takes us?" Your voice raises at the end of your sentence, as if a little worried they'll say no. That's another lie, you were a LOT worried they'll say no, denying you any more of their time.

Your anxiety is evident as your eyes search their face for a clue, a glimmer of what they might say. Of what they could be thinking. 

Sloane looks at you with tenderness. Such sweetness you could melt. They bring a hand up to cup the side of your face, rubbing their thumb across it. "I'd like that." They say, their voice seems to tighten as if they're both excited and nervous about the proposition.

Yeah, usually parties suck. But this one? This one was amazing.

[cuffmeinblack]

Career Perks

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader (Ominis pov with she/her)

Tags: explicit | dark!Ominis | rough sex | dub-con | parseltongue | legilimency

3k words. Accompanying audio.

Summary: Ominis' career leaves little room for excitement or challenge, but his unique brand of legilimency makes for a more interesting job when he finds himself in the company of a lonely witch.

A/n: This is a sort-of sequel to Legilimens where his skill has made him bitter and jaded. Also just random stalking and hunting for shits and giggles I guess.

Ominis enjoyed his job as much as the next wizard, but lately he felt…unchallenged. Most of his clients were small businesses and affluent households who required some extra security on their properties, meaning Ominis would throw up the same wards and shields he did day in, day out, every day. Rarely did he sink his teeth into anything different, a large event or complex case. Whilst the staleness of his chosen career could be somewhat disappointing at times, his job did have certain perks. He'd made his own entertainment over the years, honing other skills amongst the drudgery.

His unique brand of legilimency came in useful, though years of hearing others' thoughts, whether intentionally or not, had made him somewhat jaded. He'd learned early on that most people were liars, the words they uttered in direct contrast to their judgemental thoughts. To his shock, he'd also found that the most common thoughts that seeped into his were of the more amorous kind. With years of practice, he found himself less likely to accidentally probe someone else's mind when concentrating on their voice, but sometimes the lure was too strong to resist dipping his toe into the murky waters of their consciousness.

Ominis had arrived at his most recent client's manor with the intention of keeping his curiosity behind lock and key—it had been causing too much trouble of late. The wizard who had hired him was influential; a politician with a good family name and heaps of ill-gotten gold lining his pockets. He'd paid upfront, requesting the very best magical protection and citing a need to protect his family; from what, he didn't venture, but Ominis had been in this game long enough to make an educated guess that he'd gotten mixed up with the wrong sort. He even wondered whether his dear brother was somehow involved.

The manor was an impressive building with gardens and woodland surrounding it, and very isolated. His smart shoes crunched along the gravel path as he approached, his wand making him aware of the vastness of his surroundings. He'd expected a servant, perhaps a house elf to answer the door when he rang the bell, but instead he was greeted warmly by a woman who's tone and well-spoken manner indicated her status as lady of the household.

"Mr Gaunt, hello. Please come in."

Ominis gave his best smile, the one he knew would charm her and put her at ease. Walking into the hallway, the echo of the hard floor underneath his heels pointed to the grandiosity of the estate. No doubt it was lavishly decorated by the woman standing next to him.

"Thank you," Ominis replied with a dip of his head.

"My husband is away on business but I can direct you to anywhere you need to go," she said sweetly. "Would you like a cup of tea whilst you work?"

Well, he was never one to turn down tea.

"Yes, please. I'll start on the external wards."

She departed, heels clicking and dress swishing, leaving Ominis alone with his thoughts. His wand was already out, so he started the basic defensive spells…Muggle repelling charm…intruder charm… The mundanity was interrupted by the return of his host. The waft of tea hit his nose and he perked up as he noticed the Darjeeling blend amongst the clattering of china.

"Do you not have a house elf?"

"No, I don't agree with keeping a…slave," she replied, somewhat bitterly.

Curious.

"So you take on all of the domestic tasks by yourself? It can't be an easy feat," he replied, gesturing to the house.

"Unfortunately, yes. I never intended for this to be my life."

Ominis suppressed a smirk; that would have been inappropriate, of course. These trapped housewitches were often the product of bad decisions and unhappy marriages. He sipped his tea as he heard her do the same, using the distraction to concentrate on the sound of her gentle slurping. There she was. She had a powerful magical aura, wasted in a place like this. Ominis reached out, finding her thoughts laid bare, ripe for perusing—she clearly hadn't expected his invasion, her guard was down, as they always were.

"Lovely tea," he commented.

"Thank you, I make my own blend."

Of course you do. The thoughts at the forefront of her mind were nothing to do with the beverage, in fact they were nothing short of scandalous. Oh, these housewitches had such lewd fantasies. She knew exactly who he was, and her daydreams reflected her particular wants. The wet slaps that filled his mind and her salacious moans were rather distracting, but Ominis continued to sip his tea and nod along to her occasional commentary. Every whispered command that he uttered in her mind had her keening, and the twitch in his trousers was a very real consequence.

"The wards are done," he said, draining the last of his drink and placing it on the table beside him. "Nobody can get in or out until I lift them. Not you, nor your husband."

The last few words were laced with insinuation, and her fantasy ended abruptly, her thoughts scrambling and fearful.

"Wha-?"

Ominis moved quickly, his body pressing her into the table behind her, hand around her neck as her teacup fell to the floor with a crash of breaking china. Her hand went to her wand, but Ominis had already thrown it to the floor.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" he asked.

"He's going to kill me," her first thought.

"I won't hurt you, not if you do as I say. If you obey me, I'll give you exactly what you want."

"Why…?" she whispered weakly, and Ominis loosened the grip on her throat.

"Because I've heard your thoughts, and I'm most curious…," he whispered into her ear.

She could have used his slackened grip to attempt to break free, but she didn't, only writhed between his body and the furniture behind her. Her pulse pounded against his fingers and warm, hastened breath brushed his cheek, prompting a dark surge of hunger and a throbbing swell of his cock.

"Take me," her second thought.

Ominis cast a silent summoning charm on her wand, tucking it into his unused holster.

"Run."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me."

The second teacup crashed to the floor as Ominis relented his grasp around her neck and she fell back against the table. She scrambled, and he listened to her frantic footfalls as she ran, her terrified thoughts fading as the connection to her mind broke. She seemed to be unsure just what his intentions were, but the faint flicker of excitement told him all he needed to know about this particular witch.

"Homenum Revelio."

Ominis muttered the incantation, his wand guiding him in her vague direction. He walked quickly, but she really had nowhere to go as long as his charms held. She was fast, always moving along the winding corridors that made up the large manor house. So many bedrooms and drawing rooms, and nowhere to hide.

Ominis concentrated once again on the creak of the floorboards and receding footsteps in front of him until he found her. She was too far away to be able to use his legilimency, but now he'd probed her mind once before, her presence stuck out like a sore thumb—it was almost another sense, like a familiar scent that he could follow. His heart raced as he stalked through the house, adrenaline pumping, providing the excitement that his job couldn't.

"I've heard what you want me to do to you," Ominis called.

No reply.

"Tell me—do you kiss your husband with that mouth? The obscenities that spilled from it shocked even me, and I'm far from chaste."

Ominis threw up more detection charms, getting closer as she slowed—intentionally, he was sure. His ears remained pricked for any movement, when he heard her inhale before shouting an incantation.

"Expelliarmus!"

Ominis shielded himself just in time, her wandless but nevertheless powerful spell glancing off the protective sphere. There was the feisty witch he'd sensed below the delicate façade. A devilish grin crossed his face as she broke into a run again and he followed. The slam and click of a door up ahead echoed through the hallway, and Ominis smirked through heavy breaths. He knocked on the door, the gesture absurd, but it got her attention.

"Leave, and I'll not tell anyone about this."

Ominis pressed his ear against the wood, his fingers sliding around the door knob as he held his wand steady.

"I don't think you want me to leave," he replied, unlocking the door with but a simple unlocking charm.

He'd half expected a barrage of wandless magic aimed at him, but then again he'd half expected not. She was waiting, silently, except the ragged breaths that filled the large room. Ominis kept a shield up, but his wand sensed no danger from the situation.

"Is this your bedroom?" he asked.

"Yes," came her breathy voice.

He dropped his shield and walked towards her, following the sound and reaching out with his mind once again.

"You led me here."

She remained quiet, but she confirmed it for him anyway. Into her mind he delved again, not bothering to be careful or inconspicuous as he waded through her present jumbled thoughts and tore into her memories. He saw every bad decision ever made, the regret and longing of a woman trapped, walking in the shadow of a man utterly undeserving of her.

"You want me to take you here, where your husband sleeps? Of all the rooms in this vast house?" he asked, his fingers finally making contact with her.

She hadn't attempted to conceal the reason she'd stopped running. Knelt at the foot of the bed, she let his hands roam over her lightly-clothed shoulder, the delicate silk blouse leaving every curve free to caress. She gasped as he once again skimmed her neck, his hand continuing its journey to her face. Her lips were plump, and as his thumb brushed against them he felt her warm breath that stuttered as he started to unbuckle his belt.

His digit parted her lips, slipping inside her warm and inviting mouth as she sighed and allowed the invasion. His cock twitched again in anticipation of filling her mouth, his barely disguised arousal springing free from his trousers as the last of the fastenings fell away.

"Open your mouth for me, darling," Ominis whispered.

She did as she was told, her hands tentatively gripping his thighs as Ominis felt her jaw slacken against his fingers. He muttered a praise as he lined himself up with her inviting lips, pushing the tip of his cock inside her waiting mouth. Perfect. Her tongue eagerly met him with a swirl around his head and he groaned, lacing his fingers through her soft hair that he just now realised hung loose and smelled pleasantly of vanilla.

He tightened his grip as she took more of him, guiding her head with a rhythm that sent his head spinning. Though muffled, her moans filled his ears amongst the sounds of her exuberant sucking. She felt fantastic, a little sloppy perhaps, but she more than made up for it with her enthusiasm. Whether or not the enthusiasm was genuine or a product of his threat, he didn't much care.

Ominis sighed softly as her head bobbed back and forth, deciding to move along to what she'd really wanted from him. He pulled her hair back a little harder than was necessary, her mouth popping off his length and causing a yelp of pain. A rush of affirmation flooded her thoughts, spilling into Ominis' as his control over his legilimency weakened, and he smirked down at her before lowering his head to meet her in a greedy kiss. Her tongue met his, firm and demanding, the taste of tea still lingering.

"Such a lovely mouth," Ominis praised as they parted, relinquishing the hold on her hair. "Now, strip."

"What are you going to do?" she asked shakily over the rustle of fabric.

"Exactly what you wanted of me the moment I stepped through that door."

Ominis stroked her face gently as she undressed, and when she wriggled out of her underwear he got to work on ridding himself of his own bottoms. His pulse raced and cock throbbed with need, desperately wanting to hear her keening again, flooding his ears and not just his mind.

"How do I compare to your filthy thoughts?" he asked, pushing her back onto the bed.

"You're…better. Much better," she sighed.

He positioned himself between her legs, running his hands over her soft skin pricked with goosebumps and towards his prize. She was already squirming by the time he pressed his fingers to her entrance, dipping a digit inside the well of slick arousal.

"Such a naughty witch."

She whimpered, her walls fluttering around his finger, pulling an amused chuckle from his throat. Retreating slightly, he dragged his finger between her folds and found her swollen clit, eliciting another pathetic whine as he began rubbing circles around the nub.

"You really are so needy," Ominis chided. "How long since you've been touched?"

"A while," she replied meekly. "Fuck…"

"There's that filthy mouth I've heard."

Ominis moved his hand faster, listening to her sweet moans as his hips instinctively rocked, his erection rubbing on the bed sheet and providing barely enough relief. He couldn't control his urges forever, and his patience was wearing thinner by the second, no matter how lovely the noises she made. His fingers left her clit to a protesting whine, delving back into her soaking wet entrance.

"P-please don't stop."

"Ah, no, I'm afraid your fantasies were quite specific about how you wanted to come undone."

Ominis pumped his hand, rougher than was needed as his lust threatened to overcome his waning self restraint. Once he slipped a third finger inside her, he knelt up on the mattress before withdrawing his hand and dragging her along the sheets by her thighs towards him.

"Shit!"

He was frenzied, rock hard and aching for her cunt. With no more than a flick over her clit with the tip of his cock as warning, he pushed inside her to the sound of her wails and the sting of nails scraping down his back. Ominis growled his feigned disapproval, seating himself deep inside her as his head dipped to the crook of her neck and kissed up towards her ear. He started thrusting, and his breath almost deserted him.

She felt incredible, as if she were made for him, and the way she gripped him felt as if she were clinging onto him with the intention of never letting go. Ominis moaned and muttered praises in her ear as a string of expletives dripped from her lips with every roll of his hips.

"Harder, fuck!"

"So needy," Ominis said, though what left his mouth was a high pitched hiss that made her wail and scream his name.

That's what she'd wanted, in her sick little fantasy of being ruined by the heir of Slytherin. Not a particularly inventive one, but he was happy to indulge when the product was such a beautiful cacophony of moans. He continued whispering parseltongue against her neck as he attacked her skin with his teeth and hands groped greedily at every soft handful of flesh he could reach. Her curves were truly delicious, and the smack he delivered to her backside as she drew her legs up reverberated around the huge room and only spurred him on. Faster and harder he fucked her, until she was practically hysterical.

The way she gripped his cock, he knew she was close and his own release was imminent. His arms shook as he lifted himself, kneeling above her and gripping her waist to pull her down deeper onto his cock. Ominis moaned as the tension built to unbearable levels, still continuing to pound into her relentlessly in the new position.

"Oh shit…oh fuck…"

She could only manage garbled words and to dig her fingers painfully into his thighs as her body turned limp. Ominis placed a hand on her abdomen, groaning as he felt his cock hitting her deep under his palm.

"Come for me," Ominis hissed, unable to hold back his own release any longer.

He wasn't sure who succumbed first, but as Ominis let his load spill inside her, he felt her contract around his length, teasing out ropes of cum with every pulse of her orgasm. They sighed and moaned together, his thrusts slowing and eventually dying as they came off their highs and the pleasure made way for the realisation of what had occurred.

Ominis' face fell back into neutrality, pulling his flaccid cock from her with a squelch. He worked quickly, scooping up his wand and cleaning the mess before redressing and throwing her wand from his holster into the bed.

"Was that okay?" she spluttered.

He almost laughed, that she were so eager to secure his approval after what he'd put her through.

"Get showered and dressed. I'll wait."

She mumbled something incoherent but slid off the bed and padded to the ensuite bathroom. Ominis heard the lock of the door and running water, only just disguising the soft sobs emanating from the room. He had no time to fuss over her emotional wellbeing, he had work to do—with careful and deliberate flicks of his wand, he removed the wards that trapped her in the house, recasting the protective enchantments just as he'd been requested to do. He even made the bed.

By the time she'd returned to the bedroom, he told her to dry her hair and make sure she was properly presented, not using the exact words to ask her to stop crying. In silence he led her back to the hallway where the shattered teacups lay, fixed with a simple Reparo. There could be nothing left out of the ordinary.

"What should we do now…," she directed towards him, unease in her voice.

She was panicking. Ominis didn't give her time to finish her sentence, pointing his wand at her and twisting his wrist slowly in the air.

"Obliviate."

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Have some Aiden & Kid!Jaskier interaction!!

"It's you!"

Aiden turned his attention towards where Jaskier was sat by the fire alongside the wolves, the bard's face a strange mixture of disbelief and elation, as was his scent. Aiden crinkled his nose slightly as he fought back the urge to sneeze or cough at the unfamiliar combination being directed at him.

"Yeah, it's me. Happy to see you too?" Aiden ventured, despite the fact that it couldn't have been more than an hour since they'd last seen each other. Aiden had gone back out into the courtyard after dinner to run some drills, despite the harsh weather, and get rid of the excess energy he could already feel building up. Vesemir was gracious enough to refer to it as 'extra training' and not act like it was a necessity if they all wanted Aiden to avoid getting so restless he literally started climbing the walls.

"No! I mean...I didn't realise before now until I saw you silhouetted like that with your swords and everything, but it's you!"

Aiden suddenly found himself with a limpet of a bard hanging off him, determined to cling despite the rainwater which now soaked both of them.

"Jaskier, I-"

"Oh right. You probably don't remember, what am I saying, of course you don't - Jaskier you fucking idiot. It's been thirty years, no doubt you've lost count of how many humans you've dealt with in the meantime. But-"

"Jaskier." Lambert huffed out from where he was dozing on the fur which acted as a hearth rug, not even bothering to open his eyes, "Let Aiden go dry off and then maybe some context to go with your twittering, Birdie."

By the time Aiden returned, Jaskier's excitement was enough that even the Wolves were giving him their full attention as he re-entered the main hall. Eskel and Geralt's books lay abandoned on a side table while a now awake Lambert was sat leaning against the wall by the hearth. He pulled Aiden down to sit next to him, the fire hot stone through his thick, wool shirt creating a pleasant warmth against his back.

"Alright then." Jaskier started from where he was sat cross legged in one of the old armchairs, leaning forwards as he once again addressed Aiden directly, "Before I start, do you remember anything about a night in Lettenhove thirty years ago. At the Viscount's estate."

Aiden shook his head, although something about this was starting to niggle the back of his mind.

"Name of Panktratz. Little boy, around six years old?" Jaskier continued, eyes growing sadder as it became clear this memory was potentially very one-sided, "Somehow convinced you to-"

He wasn't sure if it was the name or the wide-eyed look the man was throwing him, but Aiden felt something suddenly tumble into place. "Wait, I do remember that night!"

Aiden fought back a growl as he took in the various toys littering the floor, the miniature four poster bed...whose occupant was an even smaller lump under the covers.

That son of a bitch! That slimy twat had hired him to 'take care' of his nephew so he'd be next in line for the title instead, implying the whole time that his relative wasn't exactly deserving of the title. Aiden had accepted the job - what difference did the inner squabblings of Nobility make to him afterall.

In hindsight he probably should have asked more questions but he didn't have a copper coin to his name and this guy had paid upfront; enough for him to be able to eat regularly and maintain his gear for the foreseeable. He started planning after his employer graciously provided him with a blueprint of the estate and pointed out the targets rooms. He'd failed to mention however, that said target looked to be scarcely old enough to wield that wooden sword properly, nevermind any degree of power.

Fuck it. He should stay as far away from this potential mess as possible. It was bad enough when their employers pointed the finger of blame at them when they assassinated an adult, but a child? That was a complication none of them needed. Mind made up, he turned to climb back out of the window (which had been concerningly easy to coax open from the other side), making sure hood and mask were still firmly in place.

"Hello."

Aiden froze. Speaking of complications....

Rookie mistake! He'd been so caught up in everything else he'd forgotten to keep one ear focused on the other heartbeat in the room. He ran through possible scenarios: he could do what he'd been paid to do, but now the kid was awake there was every chance he'd scream and alert the house before Aiden could even lift a finger. Same potential problem if he tried to leave. He could always cast somne...

"You're a Witcher aren't you? I can see the shape of your swords!" Aiden's nose twitched at the boys scent. Strange. Even through the cloth covering the lower half of his face he could tell the boy didn't smell afraid. He smelled excited, happy even?

"I know all about Witchers. You keep us safe from monsters. Is that why you're here, is there a monster in my room?" The small voice turned slightly fretful as a faint whiff of fear started to sour the air - yet more strangeness in the fact that it was due to imagined monsters rather than him.

Aiden dared to turn and look, something about this child's initial boldness piquing his curiousity (who the hell starts questioning a stranger in their room instead of screaming the place down?). A small boy stared back at him with large eyes as he clutched the soft looking sheets to him like a shield as he curled up in the centre of the bed. "My Uncle Desmond says that monsters like to come out at night and eat little boys. I don't like him. He's mean."

Aiden gave a bittersweet smile at the pout he could see on the little face.

'Oh. You have no idea just how mean, kid.' He thought to himself.

"No, no monsters here. Go back to sleep."

The boys pout turned into a frown, "You didn't even look."

"Because I don't need to."

"Please, Mister Witcher." His bottom lip wobbled in a practiced tremble as his eyes grew even bigger.

Aiden bit back another smile. Kid was good, he'd give him that. Such audacity deserved some sort of reward.

"Alright. One very quick monster check, then you go to sleep. Deal?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically, "My name's Julian, by the way."

"I don't care."

"...are you going to tell me yours?"

"No."

"Can I see your swords?"

"No."

"How about your-"

"How about no talking until we make absolutely sure there's nothing waiting in your wardrobe?"

Turns out the only monstrous thing in Julian's wardrobe was a few hideous combinations of frills and lace. Behind the curtains yielded nothing, as did underneath the bed.

"Ok. Now you hold up your end of the deal and go to sleep."

Julian scowled at him in response from where he was now stood up on the feather mattress to watch rather than huddled under the sheets, arms crossed expectantly.

"What?"

"You're supposed to say sweet dreams."

Aiden blinked at him before replying "Sweet dreams." Monotonously.

"Tuck me in?"

Aiden cast the sign for somne, Julian's body flopping down before he'd even finished. Cheeky little fuck would've been wanting a lullaby next. Still, it wouldn't do for him to get cold, there was no fireplace in this room after all. He grabbed the quilt from the bottom of the bed, not bothering to straighten it as it fell haphazardly over the small body before doing what he should have done thirty minutes ago and taking his leave back through the window.

"I told my parents about you the next morning. They didn't believe me of course. Said it was probably just a dream and that if there had been a Witcher in my room I'd be dead. Although, I suppose that explains why my Uncle Desmond looked apoplectic when I came down to breakfast. I never knew he'd hired you to, you know." He flicked a hand across his neck in a throat cutting motion. "Why didn't you by the way? Not that I'm saying I wish you had or anything. I was a human child, you could've killed me multiple times as easily as scratching an itch but you didn't. Why?"

Aiden's features settled into a frown, "Oh trust me, if your Uncle had waited ten more years it probably would've been a very different outcome. As it is, once I had all the facts, I just decided against accepting a contract on a kid. The one who offered me the contract however..."

Jaskiers eyebrows shot up as he shuffled further forwards, "Are you saying you offed my uncle? He did just sort of... disappear."

"Not exactly. I merely broke back in and left evidence of what he'd planned somewhere I knew the current Viscount would find it. What he chose to do with that I had no involvement in. If he just so happened to be on the lookout for an assassin and I was coincidentally still in the area, well...no Witcher is ever going to turn down such well paying jobs so close together."

Jaskier laughed, causing the wolves to look at him in shock, "Oh don't look like that. I didn't learn the extent of it until I was older but besides trying to murder me he was an absolute cock. Definitely not somebody you'd want in charge of anything!"

"The ones that desperate for power usually aren't." Eskel mused, Lambert raised his cup in agreement.

"You know, I'm so happy that Geralt ended up being the Witcher I ran into in Posada. But when I started out from Oxenfurt, I was actually looking for you."

Aiden straightened up in slight surprise, "Why?"

"Because I wanted to do this." Jaskier got down on the floor and once again wrapped his arms around Aiden, the Witcher returning the hug this time.

"Thanks." Jaskier muttered, "For humouring a scared, probably irritating as hell, little boy."

Aiden tightened his hold slightly, "You're welcome, Julian."

[r4d1c4lw31rd0]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 (≧▽≦) [𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐎𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞]

Experimenting with this banner thingy- Anyways this is something I decided to finish up 💪🏼💪🏼 I totally did not get this idea while listening to sad romance songs 💀 Won't be writing for a little while because I'm going through some things right now but I hope this is good enough for my fellow Venture enjoyers!

Summary: Reader has been pining for our oblivious little archaeologist for months now, and close to when they're supposed to leave they finally decide to be upfront and confess with a song!

Warnings: Nothing! It's Fluff with just a tad bit of angst! Also no use of Y/N

-----------------------------------------

You watched on in silence, not really enjoying this party. You were supposed to be performing tonight, a celebration for the Wayfinders and their success in discovering a new artifact today. You'd been briefed about it, but you hadn't been paying much attention. Your thoughts had drifted to that stupid archaeologist you'd been pining for for months now. Sloane Cameron, though commonly referred to as Venture, had captured your heart quicker than you had wanted.

Sweet, funny, energetic, passionate . . . what more could you want from a person? You didn't realize it at first, dismissing it as admiration, but when the two of you kept seeing each other, it was far to late. They'd wormed their way into your brain, and they weren't going away anytime soon. You had been invited to the dig site by a relative of yours who worked at the Petra site, and it was Sloane themself who made you feel the most welcomed.

The time you two had spent together had been . . . wonderful. They talked, quite a bit, but you didn't mind, considering yourself someone who preferred to listen instead. They didn't quite realize how sexy they looked talking so in depth about their profession and findings. It warmed your heart, and you had been caught staring quite a few times.

They showed you their favorite spots to frequent when they needed alone time, taught you about different artifacts and the history of Petra, and on more than one occasion you had fallen asleep in their tent listening to them ramble and woken up covered by their coat while they were sleeping awkwardly in their chair. For a moment, you were convinced they liked you, but you were well aware that they did nice things for everyone. It was difficult to tell if you were special or if they just treated everyone this way.

Too shy to completely come clean about your blossoming feelings, you began to drop hints. You went out of your way to hang out with them whenever they were free, always offered to take important documents to them, hell you were even extra touchy and flirtatious with them. To your disappointment, it all went over their head. Every. Single. Time.

"Thanks! You're such a great friend" was the most common response you got whenever you brought them things. Your compliments were slightly more successful, but the ones they gave were all so plainly platonic it hurt. Any innuendos you gave were taken so seriously that you had made an indent in the wall of your own tent from banging your head against it so frequently.

Your pining was so obvious to everyone else but them. Most people felt pity, and even tried to help you out. Sloane's response?

"What? No no no! They're just being friendly! Trust me, I'd be able to tell if they liked me like that!"

You thought about shaking them violently and yelling how you felt to them but even then they had a skull so thick you were pretty sure they'd find some kind of excuse not to believe you. No matter what you tried, they just didn't get it.

To cope, you turned to writing your feelings down in the form of song lyrics. Pages upon pages filled with your feelings. You practically spilled your guts on those pages, and yet nothing ever truly felt like it'd get the point across. Not until tonight. You had the perfect song to sing for them, but you weren't sure it'd smooth over well. You were due to leave the site tomorrow, and with some urging from your friend you decided tonight was the night. You'd be leaving tomorrow anyway, so if they did reject you you wouldn't have to face the embarrassment for long.

You were watching them from across room, observing them from afar. They never looked so dashing before, hair slightly more cared for compered to how messy it usually was. They wore a very clean white button up, sleeves rolled up just to their elbows. Various tattoos littered both arms, and the muscle they hid beneath all those layers was on full display. The black slacks they wore hugged their figure comfortably, suspenders with funky little designs on them attached and giving them that familiar nerdy vibe they naturally gave off. To top it all off, they had a bright yellow bow-tie on, adding to their charm.

Currently, you were watching them speak with another co-worker of theirs. She was so pretty, and certainly looked much better than you did. You thought so at least. Your arm tightened around your waist as a flush came across your cheeks. Your brows furrowed as you looked away from the two giggling lilies, downing the rest of the alcohol in your cup. This was stupid. You couldn't do this. God, what if they looked embarrassed? What if they looked at you with disgust? Hell what if they flat out rejected you in front of everyone here!? This was such a stupid plan, you didn't completely think things out.

"You're up next." You snapped out of your thoughts, looking over to your friend. He smiled at you, nudging you with his elbow. "Loosen up, you look constipated with all that frowning your doing."

You smacked his arm as the two of you chuckled, and he leaned against the wall beside you.

"Seriously though, what's got you wound up so tight?" He looked down at you, sympathy written all over him. He probably already knew, but you still wanted to confide in him anyway.

"I'm just super fucking nervous." You sighed, throwing the cup into the trashcan next to you. "What if they don't get it? Or they reject me? I don't want to embarrass them in front of all their coworkers, they'd hate me for the rest of forever and I don't think I can live with myself if that happens."

A hand rested itself on your shoulder, followed by a couple of pats. "You're overthinking for one, but you make some valid points. Whatever happens, happens. It won't be the end of the world, I can promise you that much."

"Certainly feels like it."

That got a good laugh out of him as he shook his head at your dramatics. "Whatever. It's too late to back out now. We're finna go on and you better be ready. If they don't get it now, they probably never will in all honesty."

As he walked to the back of the stage, you began to follow, casting one more glance at your crush. They were still chatting it up with their co-worker, but they were looking at you. You flushed immediately. Did they know?

Raising a cup to you, Sloane mouthed the words 'Good Luck!' and you felt the familiar sting of disappointment, Of course. They were just being a good friend. You gave them a thumbs up in response, shuffling backstage with the rest of your band mates. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself mentally for just about any outcome.

You heard the announcer begin your introduction as you stepped up onto the stage, curtains still drawn shut. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could physically feel the anxiety coursing through your veins. No going back now. It was now or never.

There was applause as the curtains began to draw back, stage light on you as you held onto the mic, looking out at the crowd. You'd performed in front of people before, but it felt so much more intense now than ever.

"GOOOOOOOOOOD EVENING LADIES, GENTS, AND PARTY PEOPLE OF ALL GENDERS!" Your voice boomed over the speakers as you announced yourself, taking the mic from the stand. There was more applause and whistles as you raised your hand to calm the crowd.

"Thank you all for allowing me to be your entertainment for tonight, it is an honor to be celebrating this accomplishment with you all. The song you're about to hear will get your body movin' and groovin', but is also directed at a special someone who has yet to catch on the vibes I'm shootin', so here's to hoping it finally penetrates their thick skull."

There was a unanimous amount of "ooos" and "aaahs", and as you gave the crowd one last glance, you could see Venture's sweet confused face.

You took a deep before you signaled for your band to start. As the guitarist started up, you faced the crowd, ready to face anything.

"Don't you notice how, I get quiet when there's no one else around?~ Me and you in awkward silence!"

Your voice rang out clear over the crowd, making direct eye contact with Sloane as you pointed at them.

"Don't you dare, look at me that way!~ I don't need reminders of how you don't feel the same!" You did your own little spin as you placed your hand on your chest, keeping your gaze locked on them.

"Oh the burning, pain~ Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate. 'She's so perfect' blah blah BLAH! Oh how I wish, you'd wake up one day! Run to me, confess your love at least just let me say-"

Your face flushed at the way their eyes widened as you stepped towards the edge of the stage with each word sung, watching as they were pushed as close to the front as they could be. There was no doubt this was for them.

"That when I talk to you, oh cupid walks right through and shoots an arrow through my heart~ And I sound like a loon but don't you feel it too!? Confess, I loved you from the start~"

You couldn't tell what they were feeling, only that their cheeks were just as flushed as yours and their mouth was agape. You stepped back, continuing through with the rest of the song, occasionally making eye contact with Venture who had yet to run off with embarrassment. As you reached the end of the song, you walked towards the edge of the stage, crouching down slightly, pouring the rest of your heart out as you looked at them.

Most of the people were dancing, but Sloane continued to stare up at you, watching as you poured your heart out to them, conveying everything you've been trying to for the past months the best way you knew how.

"Confess I've loved you, just thinking of you~" you paused, letting your band mates play their short solo before finishing off the lyrics. "You know I've loved you from the start~"

You let out a shaky breath as people applauded, bowing as the curtains began to close. You immediately ran over to your friend, panicking and whispering to them.

"Did you see them!? They totally hated it oh my god this was such a bad idea. I can't face them after this!" You buried your face into your hands, trembling with anxiety as he gently rubbed your back.

"Hey now, at least give them a chance to respond yeah?" He chuckled, though continued to comfort you and hype you up.

Your stomach fluttered with anxiety as you walked off the stage, and low and behold there they were, looking around like a lost puppy, thinking they might've missed you. When they caught sight of you, you both seemed to freeze, and you weren't sure you could talk to them alone.

"We'll let the two of ya talk, yeah?" Your friend patted your back encouragingly as he and the rest of the band walked off, giving you a thumbs up.

You approached Sloane, who had yet to say anything. Both of you were flush on the face, neither one saying a word.

"So . . . Did you mean that stuff? On stage I mean . . ." Their voice was quiet, breaking the painful silence.

"Yes-" You paused, feeling like you replied a bit too fast, a bit too enthusiastically. "I mean- Yes, I did. I meant every word of it." You looked down at your feet fiddling with you hands. "I've felt that way for a while now actually . . ."

They chuckled, and for a moment you prepared yourself for rejection, tensing up.

"Sorry! I don't mean to laugh it's just-" They let out a sigh, rubbing the back of their neck. "I feel really stupid, not seeing it before."

You looked up, hope sparking up in your gaze. They smiled, hands hesitantly coming up to take you own into theirs, stopping you from wringing them anymore.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel like I didn't . . . like you too." They started of, casting their gaze to the side. "Because I do. You're really special and I enjoy hanging out with you, I just didn't want to get my hopes up-"

"Just kiss me already-" You blurted out, slapping a hand over your mouth.

Sloane laughed, looking at you with adoration. "I've made you wait long enough." They whispered, taking your hand from your face and pressing a soft, warm kiss to your lips.

You were all too eager to reciprocate, hand holding onto theirs as butterflies fluttered in your stomach, this time not from anxiety. God, this was so worth the wait. As you two parted, you felt breathless, grinning like an idiot.

"Was it how you imagned?" They joked.

"Better." You pulled them in for another kiss, wrapping your arms around their neck as you felt their hands glue themselves to your waist, pulling you right up against their body.

Kissing someone had never felt so good. All too soon it ended, and they looked at you, now with a slight frown.

"You're leaving tomorrow aren't you? Why'd you wait so long to tell me?" They sounded upset and frustrated.

Slightly embarrassed, you looked down at the floor, pulling away from them. "I tried, but you just . . ." Sighing, you paused. Blaming them was not what you wanted to do. "I . . . I was afraid you'd reject me. I mean I thought maybe there was a chance you liked me too but you were just so nice with everyone, and if you didn't like me back I didn't want to be here and have to face you everyday so today was the perfect day to do it. But, now that I know you do like me back I really wished I'd said something earlier, I feel really stupid for-"

Their hands cupped your face, stopping your anxious rambling. They made you face them, smiling softly and sympathetically.

"I get it. I do wish you had said something sooner, but we can't change that now. What matters to me is that you told me, and if you'll have me, I'd be glad to work things out with you . . ." Sloane's voice was soft, caring, everything you knew it to be. Their thumb rubbed slow, soft circles on you cheek and your own hands came up to cup the back of theirs.

"Y-Yeah . . . I'd like that."

-----------------------------------------

(Requests currently closed!)

[within-your-eyes-if]

Chapter Three: Part One Release Tomorrow

Chapter 3 Part One is coming tomorrow (11/22 for me)!

I feel it'd be prudent to share this now because I know some of you will be very eager to jump into the story but there are important details I want you to be aware of.

First and foremost: Starting over is HIGHLY suggested, as there have been significant changes to the code. Your old saves will not work properly. But this also works because of the following first point:

Narrative Enhancements: As the story has unfolded, I've realized that certain elements were somewhat weak and needed more refining, while others seemed a bit 'out-of-the-blue.' These points hadn't been fully explored yet, except maybe vaguely in the Codex. To address this, I've added more foreshadowing in previous chapters and expanded and edited some Codex entries. I hope these changes provide a clearer understanding of the world and its lore.

Codex Update: While some new entries were added and a few expanded upon, I will be adding more in a future update. I'm just very tired and need a short rest to recharge my brain. I hope you understand and I appreciate your patience on the matter!

Gabriel and Lee Poly Route: As we delve into the complexities of a polyamorous route with Gabriel and Lee, it's important to note that their relationship begins with some jealousy. They are still at the early stages of getting to know each other, and this emotion is a natural part of their dynamic at this stage. Without revealing too much, I believe it's essential to acknowledge this upfront so you are all aware.

Emotional Depths: This chapter continues to tread through emotional terrain, and while it may seem heavy at times, these feelings are pivotal. They echo the profound events that have irrevocably altered the MC's life, and it's crucial to portray these events with the gravity they deserve.

Mind the Trigger Warnings: As we venture deeper, some story elements may be challenging. I urge you to read the trigger warnings provided at the start of the chapter and proceed in a way that respects your comfort and boundaries.

Lastly, I wanted to touch on the results of the height poll. It turns out I had misremembered male Gabriel's height ─ a reminder to always double-check! The majority of you expressed a preference for female Gabriel to match male Gabriel’s height. As for male Xiao, opinions were divided: many prefer his current height, while a significant number would like him shorter. I'm going to give these results some more thought. Your input was helpful, and I'll be sure to keep it in mind as the story continues to evolve. Thank you for participating!

Your patience and engagement mean the world to me. I'm eager for you to experience Part One and I hope it resonates with you. Another big shout out and huge thanks to my testers for their hard work and assistance with ensuring this part is ready for release! Your input was invaluable ♥

Thank you so much!

Total Word Count: 277,298 (excluding Codex)

[sgiandubh]

Unfortunately Rowan is not the only one. Every women he shows up with friends and family are stalked. I heard that "fans" even ventured themself at Chrissies studio to try and infiltrate their lives without saying they are Outlander Fans. This is unacceptable they have no shame. I think S is very aware of all this but as you say he's probably watching from the back until........

Dear Infiltrate Anon,

Look: Chrissie H. is a renowned artist, with a new and very public workshop where anybody can step in and say hi. That was not always the case, but as far as I know, she is back in business in a more open fashion, again. She is not only a very gifted person, but also a formidable human being, who reminds me in many ways of my own mother's struggles and triumphs.

If I ever met her, the last thing on my mind would be to ask her about her son's life. Instead, I would gladly and very honestly tell her what a wonderful, creative individual I think she is and how much I enjoy her delicate sense of color. I would also tell her about paper making and paper crafts in Central and South-East Asia. About the Laotian craftsmen of Luang Prabang, who manage to incorporate leaves and flowers in the rough mulberry paper paste and come up with wonders. About the miniaturists of Samarkand, who paint stunning tiny masterpieces, mixing their colors with coffee dregs, for a bolder texture.

This is what I would tell Chrissie H. This and nothing more, and I could hardly call that infiltrating myself in her life. Showing sincere appreciation for who she is, not for what she is projected upon by people in this strange place.

It may come as a surprise to you, but I am not an upfront individual at all, in real life. I doubt that will ever be the case, Anon. I also hate to ask questions, for I also know for sure answers will come to the patient one. Always.

This is the delightful Carterie du Laos shop, on Rue Settathirat, in Vientiane. One of the magical places of a wonderful town, steps away from my usual headquarters. Taken in April 2009, by me.

[st-just]

To the degree to which AI discourse focuses on 'this will replace some fraction of currently existing paid artistic labor with automated machinery that, when the upfront capital cost is paid, can do a good enough job replicating it for pennies on the dollar' it is imo

1- Good. Like yeah that's kind of the real actual issue here isn't it?

2-Put in those terms, kind of doomed? Like econometricians and venture capitalists and secretaries of commerce read that description and their brain parses it as 'dramatic improvements in productivity per labor-hour', and it is their favorite thing in the world.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: Dead Certian

It was all going to end like this, one day or another

Hooks:

It starts out as a simple enough job, some noble or other has acquired some potentially profitable land but learned too late that it rests within the hunting grounds of some dangerous monsters lairing in a ruin in the nearby mountains. After being hired by an agent of the noble with a sizable upfront payment and the promise of more to come, the party find themselves hiking up into the foothills towards an abandoned abbey. It's your standard monster hunt... aside from the mostly devoured bodies indicating the party are not the first ones to be sent up the mountain.... or the rambling immortal corpse chained up for what seems like decades in a secret cell in the abbey's foundations.

It's a week or so later that the visions start... only rumours at first, people having bad dreams about a hateful red sun in a black sky, horrifying shapes moving about a blasted and ashen countryside... but then one of the heroes "awakens" in the burnt out ruins of the in they went to sleep in last night and are forced to fight for their life against various monstrosities before gasping awake. These visions are unpredictable and intermittent, and as speculation mounts of what they might mean further tales come creeping in about people dying in thier sleep or even rising from their beds to go on a mindless rampage after falling under the influence of whatever it is they're seeing.

Some time later the party is approached again by the noble's agent... though this time they're dishevelled, paranoid, and have obviously been running for their life for some days. They explain that their employer is up to something wicked, they don't know what, but its got something to do with the old abbey and the visions and its only going to get worse if they're not stopped.

Setup: Consigned to the dustbin of history nearly a century ago, the soothsayer Tirman Houndstongue was known in his day for producing prophecies as cryptic as they were accurate. The "Houndstongue Harkenings" were required readings for mystics of the day, until the new writings suddenly stopped as most presumed that the diviner had simply dropped dead in one of his famously fevered writing sessions. One by one the events hinted at by Tirman's writings were divined and came to pass, and the once famous fortuneteller fell into obscurity.

The truth is far stranger than what is remembered: After years of seeminly innocuous prophecies Houndstongue started predicting the end of the world, and in fear of his widely circulated ramblings causing a panic the church censored his writings and imprisoned him in an isolated monestary that only a select few knew about. For the rest of his life Tirman rambled on about all the horrors that would befall the world during the end times.. and then kept on rambling after he died, seeminly animated by the NEED to keep pronouncing the end of days, pausing only to talk about the terrible fates that would befal his captors and how their actions were all for not. Less than a decade later an outbreak of plague struck the monestary, leaving the corpse forgotten in its cell.

Forgotten, except for a certain noble by the name of Vandermyr , who's family's rise to prominence came about as party of Tirman's prophecies. Though born generations after the oracle's apparent death, Vandermyr developed an obsession with Houndstongue's writings thinking that they didn't just apply to specific events but spoke of underlying patterns in fate. After lucking into increasingly successive business ventures, Vandermyr bent his family's resources to discovering lost scraps of Tirman lore, eventually stumbling into the truth of his abduction, and his eventual resting place, buying the estate nearby.

Sending multiple groups to seek out scraps of unpublished prophecy under the guise of monsterhunting, Vandermyr was DELIGHTED to encounter the recitating cadaver of his idol once the party reported back, going so far as to visit the monastery himself before commanding servants to drag Tirman's remains back to his manor. In long hours spent listening at the corpse's feet comes to a revelation: that the apocalyptic ravings are just cryptic metaphor, misunderstood by the narrow minded churchfolk, and that surely they would lead him, and the Vandermyr family to rise to even greater heights.

Further Adventures:

Vandermyr is an idiot and he's kickstarted the end of days, which makes the party atleast partially culpable. It might take them a while to connect the auspicious signs to clues left in the dungeon, but once they figure it out they'll need to break into Vandemyr's manor for answers. Thankfully they're not alone in this task, as despite being a mouthpiece for otherworldy forces and stone dead for well over a hundred years, Tirman's been trying to prophecy AROUND the death of the world, it'll just take the party a bit of champion level bullshit decoding to figure out how.

Unbenknownsed to anyone including him, Tirman's prophecies were delivered by an extradimensional horror with power over predestination known as the Nigh-Tyrant. From its home amid the carcasses of devoured worlds this pisonic predator would weave itself into the causality of a realm it wished to devour, influencing events to allow it to travel between realms and rampage as it pleased. The problem with fighting this entity is that its consciousness is made up in-part of all the guilt and madness wracked oracles it used in the past, meaning its ability to predict the party's actions is manifold. Whats more, it commands those lesser nightmares that have come to dwell in the aftermath of its apocalypse, and can dispatch them to the party's world through various hidden means.

You can't go around subverting fate and not expect the gods to get involved. Istusis or other fate-warping gods are a lightly choice for late-game party benefactors, and the heroes may find their journey altered at several points to steer them in the needed direction before actual intervention takes place.

If you need to further up the stakes, consider having the belayed end of days get the attention of the outergod with dominon over failed apocalypses who senses the titan's death like a vulture on the wind

Art 1

Art 2

Art 3

[strawberrygummiess]

velvet ring.

Jade Leech x Male!reader

"if it's not too much trouble, could i request an established relationship Jade x male!reader fic? (literally anything fluffy would do please and thank you! best picks would be them doing club activities together or being a cutesy domestic couple) <3" 1.3k words cross posted on ao3

The trails outside of Night Raven College were beautiful.

  The entire hiking trip with Jade had been nothing but breathtaking. Your hike with Jade had been mostly quiet, both of you taking in the tranquil sights. You didn’t mind the silence, however. You loved seeing your boyfriend happy; watching him grin unabashedly at the different fungi you encountered, basking in the sun rays like a cat, and enjoying your company with a tight grasp on your hand. It differed from his usual polite demeanor; your heart swelled at the thought of making him this excited.

However, you were nearing your limit.

    You were initially delighted to join Jade on The Mountain Lover Club’s first group expedition (if you and Jade counted as a group) to find a particularly rare mushroom. But now that you were five miles in, with no sign of turning back anytime soon, it seemed you were a little ambitious about how much hiking you could handle.

      The weather was gorgeous, your boyfriend was excited, but your feet were screaming in agony.

       Your shoes were definitely not designed for hikes of this nature (or much at all, with the holes in the netting and the developing hole in the sole of your left shoe) and you could feel the blisters developing on your heels. It made finishing the hike feel impossible. Though, you would never voice this thought out loud. You’re too busy indulging in the pure joy Jade was experiencing on the hike with you. You had no intention of bursting his bubble any time soon.

        Most of the trail had been shrouded in greenery and trees. While the trees were beautiful, when the forest opened into a flowery clearing, you were simply in awe. The scene was picturesque; the sun shone on the field, basking the flowers in rays of sunlight that mimicked a painting. The flowers were vibrant purples and pinks, swaying slightly in the calm gusts of wind. How anyone could avoid this club was beyond you.

        “This is so beautiful! Look at all the flowers,”

       “Ah, it reminds me of Ramshackle,”

“How so?”

        Jade hums and gives you a cheeky grin.

      “Well, it reminds me of the holes in the floor, of course,”

       It suddenly became very apparent why students avoided the Mountain Lovers Club.

        You sigh, annoyed, and playfully push Jade with a scolding look. He begins to laugh at the sorry state of your living conditions while you move off the trail to venture into the clearing. The grass is so green and plush, that it almost looks fake. You’re tempted to lie down to test your theory. And to give your poor feet a break.

      Your temptations win out and you dramatically fall into the grass, relief immediately flooding your body as you relax. You stretch out your limbs and settle on your back, arms resting on your chest. Jade watches, utterly bemused at your behavior.

     He knew a couple miles back that you were ready to turn around but stuck around for his sake. You were sweet- too sweet for him, but that’s why he loves you. There was no room for guessing, no subtlety in your love. You were upfront with your affection; it was utterly foreign and intoxicating to Jade, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

    Of you.

    You watch Jade as he strides over to you, an audacious grin still on his face. He stands over you, blocking the sunlight from hitting your face as he peers down at your relaxed face. When you match his grin, he feels his heart flutter in his chest.

    He was so utterly enamored with his boyfriend.

   “Oh dear, Prefect, is something the matter?”

“Nothing now that I get to look at you,”

    You stare up at your boyfriend with a smile. Since lying in the grass, your body has relaxed completely. The burn of developing blisters still lingered on the soles of your feet, but despite that, you were completely comfortable in your bed of flowers. You pat the space next to you.

  “Come lay down with me, I’m declaring this our resting point,”

  “Is that so? We had quite a bit left to go, my dear,”

   You can’t help the grimace that spreads across your face. You weren’t even sure you could walk back from here. Let alone continue for an unknown number of miles ahead.

    Jade, of course, was just messing with you; testing your patience. There were plenty more miles left on the trail, but he wasn’t planning on making you go further. And based on your face, he assumed you were close to begging him to stop. He wondered if he could get you to that point, or if he’d find himself succumbing to your pitiful face. Decisions, decisions.

   “Jade,” you draw out the “a” in a whine. “C’mon sit with me at least,”

    When he sits, he realizes he has no power over you. You are the puppeteer, pulling him along by the heartstrings. You are full of pleasant surprises. He leans back into the grass alongside you, and you both enjoy the serene sounds of nature.

    “I do believe you’re just stalling, Prefect,”

   “I have no idea what you’re talking about,”

    He chuckles.

    “Your feet hurt, dear,”

    “Ah,” You should have known he would’ve noticed. “Maybe a little…?”

   You give him a sheepish look as you twiddle your fingers together. You were slightly embarrassed by how easily Jade read you. He probably knew you were tired a while ago.

  “I didn’t want to ruin your day. We didn’t even finish the hike, let alone get closer to finding that mushroom of yours,”

  “Nonsense, my day was made when you came with me,”

  Jade turned his head to face you. Sure, he would’ve loved to find that mushroom with you. But he also loved to spend time with you. If you need to get used to hiking, he would be happy to spend every second training with you.

  You smile gently at him. He was so charming; it was why you fell for him initially. You shuffle your body closer to him until your shoulders touch. You desperately want to kiss him; maybe as a thank you, mostly for the selfish reason of wanting to kiss your boyfriend. Jade leans forward for you, pressing his lips to yours in a brisk peck. It wasn’t nearly enough for you.

   As he pulls away you lean into him- greedily chasing his lips. He grins into the kiss; either in a laugh towards you or because he’s happy, you can’t tell. This kiss is more passionate than the last, the two of you are perfectly content with kissing in the grass, hiking, and aching feet long forgotten. When you pull away, you’re out of breath and flushed.

   “Oh my, it seems my boyfriend is feeling a bit insatiable,”

   “Can you blame me?” You cup Jade’s face in your hands, squeezing his cheeks, and coo, “Look at this kissable face,”

    To prove your point, you press one last chaste kiss to the tip of his nose before releasing him and sitting up.

    “I guess we should… head back?” you ask hesitantly.

    Jade hums in agreement and stands up. He dusts off his pants, before extending a hand to you and hoisting you to your feet.

   Your extremely blistered feet.

   You wince in pain as you put pressure on your soles. You suddenly realized that you would have to walk another five miles back to campus and felt the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of adding any more pain to your feet.

   “Jade,” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Is there any way you could carry me back to campus, my love?”

   “Oh, absolutely not, my dear,”

With that, he turns and walks towards campus. You groan (and wipe away a stray tear) and hurry to join him. He’s lucky you loved him so much, or else you’d quit the club right then and there and stay in the clearing until you died. You were only half a mile in before he hoisted you on his back and manhandled you back to campus.

   Maybe you were the lucky one instead.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜

Argon and his girlfriend need to FaceTime due to maybe business stuff, and she gets horny and ruts on a pillow by the sight of his shirtless form…

Aegon ii SMUT Prompt #9

pairing: modern!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

warnings: Daddy kink, mentions of masturbation (female + male), swearing, mentions of p in v, NSFW dialogue.

You hated that Aegon was not with you at this very moment. Gone away for some family business venture, it was only temporary yet undoubtedly challenging, for this was the first instance you guys had at being physically apart. And right now, you needed him in every possible way.

“Aeg, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now. Fuck, I miss you, Daddy.”

You sent the text message above, eager to see Aegon’s response. You weren’t normally this upfront or direct, but having been two weeks of little to no pleasure with your own means, you missed your boyfriends fat cock. You felt yourself more temperamental than usual, work was frustrating as it is, and without Aegon’s soothing presence, you felt your mood swings shift without warning.

It was only a minute that had gone by when Aegon had responded.

“I miss you more my Princess. You and that needy, little cunt of yours. You free to video call?”

Without a second to spare, you FaceTimed Aegon immediately, a beaming smile on your face as you laid sprawled over your bed cozily.

“Hey baby.”

Aegon’s husky, low voice echoed from the phone as you returned the welcome.

“Oh Aeg- How much more longer, I’m missing you too much now-”

Your eyes felt teary and Aegon was quick to notice, as his gaze softened on the screen. It seemed he was in bed also, shirtless with a tiresome look on his face. Fuck it drove you wild just seeing him only partially naked, that touch starved feeling you could sate yourself just by the sheer sight of his bare chest.

“Long day, Daddy?”

“Aw baby. Yeah we had meetings all day, boring people just talking on and on. All I could think of was that pretty face and cunt of yours begging, all the things I’m going to do when I’m back.”

“Tell me more, Aeg-”

Shuffling in your position, Aegon notices your hand sneaking it’s way down below the screen where it cuts off, but he knows your mischief. By the look of your face, as your eyes shut momentarily before focusing back on him, squirming.

“More, Aeg. How bad do you want me to beg?”

“Beg like you’ve never done before, I’m going to have you on your fucking knees, crying for my cock, how much you’ve missed it, how much you need it, how nothing could do you the same justice as me.”

“That’s right, Aeg. Nothing-”

The muffling of movements from Aegon’s end, stirred your eyes awake, as your fingers halted below from between your folds.

“Fuck-” Now he was seated upright, one hand holding the phone you’d presumed and the other cutting below the screen, laying down on his abdomen.

“Look at what you do to me, what you make me do. Such a needy, little Princess, I’ve spoiled you too much.”

Helpless moans and pleas of his name escape your mouth just above a whisper. You could feel your back slowly arching against the mattress, as Aegon glared at your tits, bare and free from the restraints of a bra.

“What a mess you are baby, even when I’m not there. Such a pathetic, little mess. Let me see how many.”

Tilting your phone down, as you pulled the shorts down more, Aegon had a visible glimpse of your promiscuous gesture. A cheeky smirk beamed across his face, as his other hand hastened motions from below, his phone swaying in sync to his body.

“Only two? C’mon baby, add another digit for me-”

Doing so, you shoved on more finger in slowly, your hand already coated with your mess, glistening in the dim light reflecting off the phone.

“Good, good girl. Now I’ll show you mine-”

Immediately your eyes widened in alert, as you panned your attention to Aegon’s rigid, upright dick on the screen. His hand hastily and somewhat aggressively jerking his cock, his pre-cum oozing from the blush tip. The size itself was large, his hand just barely gripping its circumference in it’s entirety, and the veins potent, you felt a pang between your thighs, your walls clenching viscerally as if his cock was inside of you at this very second.

“Look at what you do to me, fuck. I have to jerk myself off every chance I get to think of you.”

Your moans became even more excruciatingly loud, and the thrust, sloshing sounds echoing from your phone alongside Aegon’s moans, was like a orchestrated symphony.

“T-Tell me how much you want Daddy’s big, fat cock, baby.”

You could barely make out what Aegon had said, let alone the incoherent thoughts in your mind, as you envisioned him here with you, you remained quiet besides the moaning and groaning.

“Y/N! How much?”

“S-So much,” You quietly whimpered, biting your lip, as you bucked your hips forward, pressing your breasts together, just the perfect sight of your cleavage for Aegon.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.”

“I need Daddy’s cock, so f-fucking much. P-Please, come back to me.”

****

Your wish his command, Aegon couldn’t bare a single more day in your absence. That same night following your little one on one session, he’d booked a return flight, with the excuse that you were “ill.” His family unimpressed by his prompt leave, he could care less about. He had to be with you, if it was one way or another, he was going to fuck you senseless himself, face to face.