#im not even getting into how fucked up it is that the only black companion is the one with this problem

[absolutedestinyapocalypsse]

i think we're all in agreement that larian fumbled wyll's storyline but what i cannot drop after finishing my playthrough is how fucking strange his relationship to the flaming fists is???

like if you take him to kill the fists at the foundry he disapproves? these are the people who are actively torturing and enslaving the gondians to make massive police brutality robots. you can literally go to the foundry and WITNESS the steel watchers brutalizing children via tadpole but in the final battle ravengard's "help" is a bunch of fists whose job it was to protect the steel watchers? Literally all the flaming fists do is get in your way, try to arrest you for stopping murders, and run away from danger and Wyll is just endlessly supportive of it- he doesn't see why that's fucked up!

I get that they're his dad's guard and his inability to criticize his father for anything could have (should have) been a plot point, but instead it's just there! uncritically!! And i can kind of get it when it has to do with him being exiled bc parent child relationships are complicated, but there is literally no reason for him to be dickriding the flaming fists so much. Absolutely zero reason.

They set Wyll up as being this unfailingly moral character who would gladly become a devil before killing an innocent person, even when killing that innocent person is in the "rules" he's supposed to follow. He's not just uncritically obedient of Mizora even though she tells him that what he's doing is right, but when it comes to the flaming fists who are purposefully incompetant at best, and actively murderous at worst, and whom we have watched the entire game actively enable slavery and state violence he just doesn't care????

These are the flaming fists who were completely fine sending Florick to the gallows for trying to fight against their corruption and save ravengard. Devella is the ONLY person in the fists who's doing anything to address the bhaal killings and her colleagues actively get in her way/try to stop her from investigating them. If I were Wyll and I learned that my dad was fucking brainwormed bc the guard that was supposedly "unfailingly loyal" to him sold him out and actively stopped a rescue attempt, i would never want to see another fucking flaming fist in my life.

But instead at the epilogue party if he's the blade of avernus hes just like "my dad pardoned all the fists and made them pinky promise to do better :) isnt he great?" Be for real!

It's making me mad bc it's not the hypocrisy itself that's the problem, it's that they don't even attempt to say or do anything about it! It's a golden opportunity for Wyll to have to do some self reflection and grow as a character, like every other character who also has clear moments of hypocrisy like this. It's right there! And the game just totally chickens out. Like I know that not every country has the same relationship to police that Americans do, but it's literally IN THE GAME that the flaming fists are a corrupt organization who operate exactly like the american cops do. Larian please give Wyll a backbone to begin with, or make him reckon with the fact that he doesn't have one. Do fucking SOMETHING!!

#im not even getting into how fucked up it is that the only black companion is the one with this problem #you can't avoid the subtext you literally wrote into the game! if you dont wanna deal w it don't put it in! #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll

[buckleysbitch]

summary ~ sub!abby x dom!reader timeee! thank you to @ghgygd for the request 🤍

warnings ~ filthy as absolute fuck, strapping (abby receiving) maybeeeee dacryphilia if you squint hard

authors note ~ i need to go rub SEVERAL out after writing this good god….anyways reqs are open angels!!

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*ping!*

angel 🪽 ~ alright pretty girl, when i get home i need you naked, on your knees by the bed.

angel 🪽 ~ oh, and pull out the strap, vibrator, and lube.

angel 🪽 ~ be home in 20, love you abs 🤍

abby's muscular thighs shook with excitement. you'd been out for what had felt like an agonizingly long time, like you had gone off to war and wouldn't be back for years. in reality, you'd been gone for a couple hours to take a work meeting in the next city over, but to your preciously down bad girlfriend, it felt like eons.

obeying your instruction, her inner thighs already sticky and damp with desire, she heads up to your shared room. the blonde girl plucks the toy and it's companions from your bedside drawer, placing them neatly in a line on your comforter.

checking her phone and flipping it onto the bed, abby notices she has some time to take a quick shower before your arrival. just to freshen up….of course.

and that’s how you found abby, keeled over in the thick steam, fingers plugging her gooey hole.

“out.” you demand, your girlfriend flinching at the surprising sound of you. she quickly turns off the water, stepping out of the fog, landing inches from your lips.

“hey angel! how w-“

“go lay down. ass up.”

pushing her lower lip out subconsciously, she obeys, quickly drying off her dripping, freckled skin, and landing face first into the pillows.

“now, abigail.”

oh fuck.

she shudders at the sound of her name, knowing you only use it when she’s in deep shit.

“you know i don’t have many rules, but what’s the most important one i have?” you question her, quietly shuffling off your clothes and securing your black harness around your waist, the lavender 9 inch silicone springing to life.

“i-i….can’t touch myself without permission.” she murmurs, bracing herself for the eventual impact of your hands on her plush ass.

“that’s right honey. now, because i’m feeling generous…..and i had such a bad day, im still gonna fuck you, okay? but….”

“can you show me what you were doing in the shower?” you coo, reveling in abby’s blonde head bobbling incessantly. sauntering over to the tail end of the bed, abbys thighs spread perfectly. the scene was fucking incredible, you only wish you could’ve captured that moment forever on video; abby fingering herself knuckle deep with three of her stocky digits. abby grew wetter as she noticed you attempting to mask your amused expression under taunting disappointment. as she grew closer, you notice her thighs trembling.

“enough.”

abby throws her head back at the demand, slipping her fingers out as you catch her palm, guiding her into your mouth. swirling her digits clean, you release her with a soft popping sound.

“good girl….doesnt even look like i’ll need the lube, hm?” you chuckle to yourself, inspecting her glistening cunt.

“look at you, so pretty even after punishments…” you tease, arms on either side of abby, as you reach down and ghost your warm, wet mouth over a pebbled nipple. she whines in response, bucking up her hips in despair.

“p-please….please….”

“shh, shh…..” you seal your lips to hers, unraveling her perfectly plaited braid, giving you the opportunity to tug lightly at the nape of her scalp. “so beautiful angel….” she mewls in response, your figure snaking ever so slowly down her abdomen. greedy hands quickly find their way into your hair, before you smack her away gently.

“nuh uh. you touch me and i’ll stop.” you demand, staring deep into her oceanic eyes as you spit bitterly on her clit, before sucking her in. and suddenly, tasting her, your eyes blow out, your head empty, fuzzy even; only abby’s angelic whines able to ground you in reality.

“m-m’ gna’ cum!” she yelps, her fingers fisting the sheets, desperate to touch your pretty, dampened face.

“aww, already?” responding quickly, you suck harshly on the throbbing, swollen bud, her back arching into your mouth, chanting your name like a goddamn prayer as she releases.

panting, the girl regains her composure, as you smooth down her hair for a moment. she goes to find solace in the crook of your neck, before you move away, chuckling.

“what? you thought i put this strap on for nothing?” her eyes go wide, recalling the silicone teasing her hole what felt like days ago. whining, she spreads her legs, welcoming you once more.

“nope, ass up.” you tut, lightly tapping the flesh of her thigh as her hair cascades over her flushed face, into the pillows yet again. “awe, my girl need some help?” hands finding their way into her hair, pulling it into a messy, makeshift ponytail. you tug the tendrils towards you, forcing abby away from the comfort of the pillows beneath her.

steadily inhaling, you bottom out into her in one stroke, to your….disappointment. pecking her back, you instruct her to stay where she was, while you rummage around until you found your unique, 11 inch dick, matching the color of your other straps for aesthetic, obviously. attaching it to your harness and slipping your bullet vibrator in between your clit and the fabric, you reassume your position. abby moans feeling the girth of your new appendage, her head nearly hitting the safety of the pillows before you yank her scalp back once again.

“s-s’….too big…” she cries out.

“if it’s ‘too big’, then why are you still pushing your hips up on me, trying to take more?” you reply, reveling in your girlfriends sticky cunt swallowing your dick.

“such a slut….missed this pretty pussy so much today….just wanna breed her so bad.”

abby wails in response, gummy walls pulsing around your dick as she fucks herself up against you while you thrust, sinful smacking of skin filling the space.

“y-yeah?” you pant, “you want me to breed you abs? d-don’t- hgnh- worry, gonna fill you up like you deserve.” the buzzing of the vibrator was driving you damn near insane along with your girlfriend plastered out on the bed looking like a painting, sweat glimmering on her tanned freckles.

“g-gna’ cum in this pussy….” groaning, abby clenches around you, while you pick up the pace to an unforgiving tempo.

“ah….ah….ah!” she exhales with every pounding thrust, the image driving you over the edge. it seems like abby is joining you, with a chorus of your name.

as the hazy white around your high fades, you find abby’s all too familiar figure, pressing sweet, tender kisses to her neck. she grumbles back to life, swiping her sweat from her eyebrows with her forearm.

“so….hard day at work?” she chuckles, pulling you into her arms, fingers weaving through your frizzed out hair.

“the worst.”

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#abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby the last of us 2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #abby anderson au #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us 2 #taking requests #taking reqs #reqs open #requests open

[shotmrmiller]

Needs must

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

WC: 2.1K

TW: prostitution, explicit fingering, and smut-ish.

ive got 4 other ideas for this goddamn escort au and one of em is MY BOY JOHNNY. oof i cant wait. im mad it took me this long to do this. I wrote this listening to rich sex by nicki minaj.

You had needs. No matter how magical, a toy can only do so much for you. You wanted the praise of another human being—the warm touch of their hands around your waist, your neck. God, you needed to get laid. But after the disaster that was your last relationship, how nasty it ended, you couldn’t even ring your ex-girlfriend up for a booty call. 

Sucking your teeth, you look at your phone. Noon. Well, maybe one of your friends you’re about to meet up with for a weekly Saturday brunch knew someone who would be interested in a no-strings-attached situationship.

—

Flipping the card in your hands,  you chewed on your bottom lip in deliberation and looked down at the business card— the color of bone with raised black lettering. Ghost, it read, with his number on the back. How you ended up with this in your hand made you almost regret having reprobates for friends. An escort. That’s what they had shamelessly suggested. You had almost choked on your eggs benedict when one of them pulled out a contact card from their wallet and placed it by your mimosa. I mean, really. Preparing to argue about their lack of sense, they brought up a great point. It was either this, someone who was there for what you needed whenever you needed it, or your toys which were in a pathetic state from constant use. Your ex called it quits because you simply couldn't find the time to maintain a proper relationship— your demanding job took up most of it. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.

Ghost. What a name. But you suppose it didn’t matter what his name was, only that he could do his job, and with the way your friend gushed over him— he’d leave you walking side to side. You needed this. You worked too hard for too many hours to not spend your money on some self-care. 

Fuck it. Maybe he will be just a one-time thing, you thought, and sent his number a text. 

—

Closing the door of your car, you briskly walk towards the small cafe Ghost had sent the address to; A cute little quaint coffee shop. Coming to a stop, you straighten your office skirt and run a hand through your hair before opening the door. Breathing in the coffee aroma, you look around for who you’re looking for, spotting him sitting in the back. The click of your heels echoes inside the cafe, catching the attention of your awaiting companion. He looks up and rises to stand, and it takes you aback. It was like witnessing a grizzly standing on its hind legs. Jesus.

He was tall, so tall, and broad. Wearing a black beanie and covering the lower half of his face with a mask, he extends his arm out to shake your hand, and you internally scream at how shapely his arm alone looks over his long-sleeved shirt. 

“I’m Ghost. It’s a pleasure, love.” 

Choking back a moan at his accent, you put your hand in his and say, “No, I’m sure it’ll be all mine.” You can see his dark eyes crinkle at your quip. 

“If we get through this smoothly, the next time we meet I’ll make sure of it.” 

As you let out a playful laugh, Ghost reaches for the back of your chair, pulling it out with a chivalrous gesture. “And a gentleman? You definitely know how to sell yourself.” 

“No, love. This is just a common courtesy. I don’t need t’tell you that I’m good,” and in one smooth motion, he extracts a sleek, forest green matte folder from the leather business bag lying at his feet.

“I need this filled out, just the usual— hard and soft limits. Safewords, nicknames, allergies, and so on.” You pick up the folder and open it, skimming over the contents of the front page. 

“This really is your job.” You flick your eyes from the folder to him and he’s already looking at you, watchful and steady. 

“O’ course it is. I take my clients, and future clients, seriously. I enjoy wha’ I do but it will never be at the cost of another. I will not make you uncomfortable in any way, nor risk your health. I aim to please you, not the other way around. And I cannot do tha’ if I don’t know tha’ you’re allergic to latex or completely against something I might do.” 

He gives a slight cough, and you divert your attention from the paper and meet his gaze. “What’s a pretty thing like you seeking out someone who offers these types of services?” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes you.

“The same reason the one who gave me your card did— just looking for a good time, no commitment.” 

He raises his eyebrows at that but makes no further comment. Smart man. Glancing at your wrist, you check the time. “Right,” and lean forward to get up when Ghost shoots up from his chair to pull out yours. “I’ll have your folder ready for you by the weekend,” and turn your head to face him.

“Is that when you’ll want this, then?” and you give a casual shrug. 

“If you happen to be available.” He reaches out and gently grabs your hand to pull you in for a tight embrace. Softly, he whispers in your ear, “I’ll be seeing you then, love.”

You leave with a silly little grin on your face.

—

The weekend comes and you’re a puddle of nerves. You can’t remember the last time someone made you this anxious. The knock on your door startles you out of your inner ramblings. It’s time. Taking in a deep, calming breath, you open it. 

Ghost calmly walks in, and starts taking off his mask, and then leather jacket.

“I’ve one absolute limit I forgot to mention,” he says in a firm tone. “I do not kiss. It is not a negotiation.” 

Well, you couldn’t give a damn if he didn’t. Nonchalantly, you shrug and say, “And mine is that we always use a condom.” With a nod and a chuckle, he eagerly grabs the folder from your table and starts flipping through its pages.

“A’right, love. Go get on the bed f’me.” The smirk he gives you is positively wicked. “I saw tha’ you have like to be told wha’ to do.” He jerks his chin towards your room. “And take everything off.” With nervous excitement, you run off, haphazardly tossing your clothes on the floor.

—

Eyes covered with a blindfold, all you hear is your shaky breathing and his footsteps on your plush rug. Your nerves feel exposed, raw. As you lie on the bed, you suddenly feel a firm grip on the flesh of your thighs, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. The room's cool air contrasts with the warm heat radiating from his touch, pulling a hiss from your lips as he pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

“Atta girl, love. Open your legs f’me, lemme see that pretty pussy.” The lack of eyesight helps you to focus on his touch alone, making you fearless, and your legs drop open without hesitation as you lie on your back.

“Look at tha’. Aren’t you just a dream? Hm?” he puts his hands on your knees, keeping your thighs open, wet cunt exposed. “And you waxed, too. Hope tha’ wasn’t f’me.” You feel a fingertip slide from your hood, down to your clit and hole, spreading your juices around the labia and back up. Your nerves are on fire, your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing juices to drip down to your arsehole.

“A’right, pretty. Touch yourself. Shove your tiny little fingers into your,” he pauses to suck the skin of your inner thigh, “cunt and show me how to make you feel good.” He then moves his mouth closer to where you need it most, and bites. Are you defying me? Did you suddenly become deaf as well, once I blindfolded you?” and you aggressively shake your head. 

“No! No, sir. I hear you, loud and clear.” With a tight squeeze to your thighs, he says, “Then do as I say.” Moaning, you slowly bring your hand down, starting from your chest. Your palms rub against your pebbled nipples, down to your soft stomach, until your fingertips meet your swollen nub, then move in soft, tight circles, mewling at the feeling. The groan that reaches your ears is so lewd, you could come from that alone. 

“Tha’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Look at how wet you are, fuck, show me just how you like it.” And you do. A vulgar noise comes from your hole once you stuff yourself with one finger, slowly stretching, before adding another. It’s something, but not enough, not what you want. Not thick enough, long enough, and that thought makes you whimper in disappointment. 

“Aw, are your fingers not satisfying? I’ll help you, sweet, only because you look so delicious spread out f’me like this. So vulnerable, bare.” His breath fans over your cunt, over your clit, and it sends a jolt up your spine— but he doesn’t move, doesn’t touch. It feels like you’ve been waiting for hours until he finally, finally, pushes a thick finger into you, and curls it, rubbing against the right spot, over and over, and then pushes in a second, threatening to tip you over the peak. The feeling is intense —your walls clench around him firmly in your rising pleasure.

“Oh, g-god, Ghost pleasepleaseplease,” squealing as you fuck yourself on his hand, and when your hypersensitive nerves pick up on the sensation of his scorching mouth on your clit, with a pulsating suction, your muscles tighten and tremble, to the point of pain, until Ghost gives one hard suck, forcibly pushing you off the edge. The wail you let out is ear-splitting— as ecstasy slams into your body, like waves crashing at shore. Your thighs squeeze Ghost’s head irrationally tight, but he doesn’t care, just groaning into your core, lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man who’s found an oasis. Your body stings— prickles from the vicious high you’re riding—chest heaving with sobs from the sheer force of it, fingernails digging into Ghost’s scalp, yanking on his hair. As your soul melts back into your body, you absentmindedly thank all the bloody gods for having friends who really do look out for you. 

Whimpering pathetically, your limbs go limp, loose, heavy. Ghost easily picks your body up and moves you toward the center of the bed, vertically, the blindfold still robbing you of your vision. 

 With a grunt of effort, his hand firmly settles by your ribcage, sinking into the softness of the bed, and then he slips a folded pillow beneath your hipbones, expertly arching your spine into a delicious angle. His hand firmly connects with your rear, not just once but twice, feeling the exquisite sting of it. The room falls into silence, only to be interrupted by the clinking sound of his belt buckle. Your body tenses as you hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being torn open, and then you feel his thick and warm shaft teasing your entrance. A moan escapes your lips as he penetrates you, his movements slow and sensual, until his hipbones press against your backside. Taking his time, he slowly pulls back his length, dragging it against your slick walls, before pushing forward again, covering your body with his own. His right hand is flat on the bed by your right shoulder, while his left curls around your neck, gently forcing your head to tilt back onto him. The tip of his head grinds against the entrance of your womb. 

He moans softly into your ear, before quietly purring, “Let’s see how many more orgasms I can wring out of you, pet.” The tightening of his makeshift necklace around your throat is your first and last warning of what is to come.

—

He pulled four. Four gut-wrenching, shattering orgasms before finding his own release. He left you a drooling, sloppy, sweaty mess on your bed, completely languid and relaxed. Somewhere, you faintly hear your phone ping with a notification. Hissing as you get up, you limp to your living room, and see it on the sofa. Unlocking it, you see that it’s Ghost, sending you his Cash App information. Holding in a chickle, you send him his money and wait for his confirmation. 

It was a real pleasure, doll. Let me know when you need me again.

Cackling to yourself, you place your phone back on the table. 

Bastard. 

He knows you’ll definitely be seeing him again.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader

[builtbybrokenbells]

CAPITAL VICES | LUST

Lust: a strong passion or longing, especially for sexual desires.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!recieving) oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, dom/sub, bratty sub, dirty talk, name calling, hint of degradation, praise, sir kink, choking, impact play, touch of cum play, hookups/fwb, drinking, mentions of drugs/drug use/addiction, swearing, a painful amount of flirting (player Jake is my weakness btw), sorry if I miss any!

here we go again. i know i said i might not be posting much but i finished this up and I couldn’t help myself. my apartment is about half packed so this was a little reward for myself lol 🥰 im thrilled about this series, and I really hope you guys are too. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The room was packed with bodies desperate for a thrill, but most were in active search with little knowledge of how they would attain it. Some were drowning their sorrows in tequila shots while others danced away their memories, clinging on to a companion who would only temporarily solve their troubles for the night. You couldn’t blame them for giving it their best shot; even you knew that pain was more digestible when there was someone to accompany you through it. In the morning when they woke, it would return with a fervent appetite. It would snowball, feeding viciously off the shame brewing from a one night stand that could not even give them an orgasm. For the time being, they seemed content with their watered down drinks and 80’s hits playing through the system with a stranger wrapped around them. They tried not to think of the future, but it was still weighing heavily in the back of their minds. You knew they would regret it, and so did they, but they were unwilling to own the truth.

Others found their thrills in more nefarious ways, like the couple who was engaging in all but penetrative sex in the booth in the back corner. They thought the crowd would cover their show of desperation for each other, conceal them from curious eyes, but they were stealing spotlight even in the near pitch black room. Some were doing lines in the bathroom, hoping that life would get a little more interesting with the next hit all while promising themselves sobriety when the night came to an end. Despite their beliefs that they would stop their ‘recreational’ doses when the sun rose in the sky, everyone (including themselves) knew the reality of the situation; they were decomposing at the hands of substance abuse. They weren’t willing to admit to their own addiction, but most would succumb to the sickness and end up washed up in rehab after their spouses or parents reached the point of no return.

Violence even seemed to spark interest in a young pair of boys just outside, throwing fists in hopes of asserting dominance, yet only making fools of themselves in front of their dates. It was an embarrassing show of missed punches and drunken rage, but somehow it tickled them just right. They would go home pleased with themselves, proud that they ‘stood their ground’ (what they were defending, you weren’t certain of) and their dates would complain to their friends about it. After a week of missed calls and messages, the young boys would begin to understand that their temper tantrums were not good foreplay and would vow to learn their lesson. Until the next night of drinking draft and watching football on a bar television, of course.

No matter which way, every person in the bar was in search of something more, something to give them a spark of life back and a memory to tell later on down the line. None of them could admit that their entertainment for the night would do neither of those things. Instead, they would have a nasty hangover and a looming sense of dread hanging over them for the foreseeable future. That’s the thing about materialistic thinking; it always leaves you unfulfilled and in search of more. The people that came to the bar miserable would ultimately leave the same way, yet they would never admit that their ways were no longer working for them. Maybe in their teens or early twenties real memories could be made over cheap tequila and hookups, and if not memories, lessons for certain. After twenty five, it just seemed a little sad to continue down the same path of destruction in hopes for anything meaningful.

You were not at the bar for a thrill. You were there for one reason; to pass the time, and to get a good buzz. Dancing was never your forte, nor was it your passion to do drugs off the back of a dirty bar toilet. Company was low on your list of priorities and always had been. You learned many years ago that you would never find a suitable life partner at a dive bar just off of Main Street in a big city. Establishments like such only ever seemed to attract college attendees and middle aged men who hated spending time with their wives. Even when a promising suspect would turn up, eventually they would show the side of them that made it impossible to keep a girlfriend. Getting to know people was a drag, and the thought of making room in your apartment for a second person was more sickening than anything else. You liked your personal space, and you liked peace. When adding a new person to your life, you were risking it all, and risk something that never peaked your interest.

Whiskey was something that caught your attention though, and when it was cheap, it only made you more inclined to indulge. You had learned long ago that this particular dive bar had the cheapest stock around, and they didn’t skip out on quality, either. They seemed to save their money by neglecting building maintenance, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. You could get drunk in a five star hotel for triple the price, and you’d still be drunk. You tried not to think about the soles of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor or the outdated interior design, and the drink in your hand aided the process sufficiently.

“Another?” The bartender asked as he nodded towards your empty glass.

“You know me too well, Ray.” You chuckled, sliding him the empty glass. He grabbed it, barely leaving your side before another was sat in front of you.

“What can I say? You’re my favourite regular.” He smiled. Both of you knew this was the truth; you appeared every weekend, sitting in the same spot and drinking the same thing, and you never made a peep aside from the small talk initiated by the workers. You were a certain tip, and if he had the luxury of being blunt, the prettiest face to look at in the crowd.

“You’re just saying that because I tip well.” You grinned, sipping away at the beverage he’d made for you.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” you shook your head “just pointing out the obvious.” He chuckled, throwing a towel over his shoulder before moving on to the next customer. You knew when the night dwindled down, he’d be back over to chat with you. Some would have shame in admitting that their closest friend was a 60 year old bartender, especially as a young woman, but you didn’t care. With him, you were never required to entertain any meaningful conversation or profess your darkest secrets. It was simple, lighthearted, and it served you well. You had no obligation to continue the friendship outside of the bar, and you got to see pictures of his grandkids. It was a win-win for everyone.

You barely looked up from your phone when the seat beside you was taken by another. You thought it odd for him to feel inclined toward that specific seat considering the bar was full of vacant space, but you didn’t think too hard about it. Drunk people didn’t care much about social cues, and you didn’t care enough to argue with them. What you did care for was the overwhelmingly strong scent of the patrons cologne, which seemed to be choking you the longer you breathed it in. It was not unpleasant; far from it, really, but it was very apparent. You weren’t sure if he doused himself in it before making an appearance at the bar, or if it was just so strong because of his close proximity. You buried yourself in your drink instead of investigating any further, knowing that someone who smelled so heavenly would only be looking for trouble.

“Any recommendations?” The voice struck you like a bolt of lightning, strong and without any warning. At first, you had doubts that the words were pointed in your direction, but when you felt a pair of eyes staring holes into your skull, you knew you were mistaken. You looked over at him, curious about the nature of his question. Surely any man who stepped foot into a bar already had an idea of what he wanted to drink. You doubted that the conversation starter was about alcohol, and was most likely a way to initiate a round of unbearable flirting.

“Depends.” You breathed, finding yourself completely distracted by the beauty of his face. His long brown hair was framing his face, and his smile was breathtaking. “What kind of night are you trying to have?”

“I’m open to suggestions.” He said, eyes lingering over the features of your face. He seemed just as enthralled in you as you were with him, and neither of you seemed keen on hiding it.

“Well, if you’re looking to dance, try the house tequila.” You started, flickering your eyes towards the wall of liquor bottles. “Seems like the draft here makes a person want to get in a fight, and the gin will leave you crying in the bathroom. Speaking of the bathroom, if you’re looking for some non-liquid solutions to your problems, there’s plenty in there, but I don’t know how much they’re willing to share.” He let out a laugh at your joke, but you were unsure if it was due to his shared sense of humour or because he wanted to get in your pants. Either way, it was a nice stroke to the ego. Even if it was due to a desire for sex, it was nice to feel appreciated, especially by someone so captivating.

“A lady that knows her liquor,” he noted, giving a slow nod. “I can appreciate that.”

“You asked, I answered.” You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “So what is it, then? Dancing, fighting, or crying?”

“None of them.” He assured you. “What if I’m looking to impress someone? Any suggestions for that?” You pretended to ponder the question before giving him an answer.

“I guess that would depend on who you’re trying to impress?” You raised an eyebrow, appearing more inquisitive than you truly were. He was handsome, and that was no secret, but it was not what you were looking for.

“You have lots of questions.”

“I can say the same about you.” You took a sip of your drink, your mouth watering at the potency of the liquid. Or, maybe it was because of the heavy-lidded gaze he was casting your way.

“If I was trying to impress a very attractive woman who’s looking at me like I’m an idiot, what do you think I should order to change her mind?” He asked, his eyes never leaving your face. You let out a small sigh, giving a shrug of your shoulders as you took another drink. Instead of replying, you turned back to face the bar, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. When the bartender came to take his order, he was still waiting for a reply. “I’ll take two of whatever she’s having.” The unnamed man said, hoping to grab your attention again.

“So, I’m the very attractive woman?” You asked, refusing to turn back to look at him. When the drinks were placed in front of him and he slid one your way, your question was given an indefinite answer. “What if you can’t change my mind?” You posed the idea to make him sweat, but his rebuttal was effortless.

“I have the rest of the night to keep trying, then.” Another smile twisted onto your lips, finding his charm irrefutable. Even if you weren’t interested in anything further than a simple conversation, you had to admit the effort was admirable.

“I wasn’t looking at you like you’re an idiot, by the way.” You said, swishing the ice around your glass. “Maybe I thought you were a little dumb, but not an idiot.”

“That’s a relief.” He said, a smile tugging on his lips, too. His response to your humour was definitely intriguing, and you were quite interested in his relaxed expression. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Y/n,” you said, finally accepting the glass he’d pushed in your direction after draining your own. He watched you, finding your lack of reciprocal attention peculiar, yet it only seemed to spark his interest even more.

“Are you going to ask for mine?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, debating his words before giving a shake of your head. “No.”

“Playing hard to get?” He joked, sipping away at his own whiskey.

“Just don’t care.” You shrugged. It was the truth; you weren’t doing so in attempt to play hard to get, but because you did not want to be caught at all. You had no interest in playing the game of cat and mouse, because you did not intend to leave the bar with anybody. You had a date with your bed and hopes of a good nights rest. You could not do that if you were busy wrapped around another. As attractive as he was, you weren’t willing to double back on your promises to yourself. Instead, you decided that it was best to stop any further attempts to change your mind.

“Ouch.” He chuckled, waiting to see if you were joking or not. You kept your head straight, wondering if you should leave before he continued on his tyrant. Then again, he was in your bar and this was your seat, so if anyone was leaving, it was not going to be you.

Your stubbornness was your biggest weakness, but you were too stuck in your own way to see the issue. As if the gods planned such a gruesome match from the very beginning, the only rival to your own obstinacy was the one living inside the man sat beside you. You were not willing to give in, and he was not willing to give up.

“Are you from here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that if you kept your answers short he might take the hint.

“I just moved here, thought I’d check out the town, maybe meet some new people.” You gave a slow nod, eyes now focused on the football game playing on the television above the bar. You hated football, but you hated entertaining men even more. You’d rather watch a bunch of grown men fight over a ball than engage in any kind of small talk. “Not a talker, I see.”

“Usually that means you should move on and try again with someone else.” You said, picking away at the basket of French fries sat in front of you. If there was one thing the bar did that was just as good as cheap liquor, it was deep fried foods.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” He suggested. “Nobody else in here is worth the time.”

“And I am?” You chuckled, watching the team with red jerseys score a point. “You don’t even know me. I might be a serial killer, or even worse, celibate.”

“I’d like to know you.” He offered. “What makes you think that I’m looking for sex?” You looked over your shoulder at him, taking in his attire. You looked closely at the chains dangling around his neck, drawing attention to his shirt that was buttoned only up to his stomach. His dress pants looked name brand, and his eyes screamed flirtatiously at you when you locked your stare with him. He was radiating sex appeal, which argued your case for you.

“I bet you have two condoms sitting in your wallet. You replaced them this morning, because last night, you went to a different bar and did the same thing with another girl who couldn’t see right through you.” You guessed, eyes flickering to the pocket of his pants where the bulge of his wallet sat. “It’s written all over you, honey. Stick to the college bimbo’s if you want to get anywhere worthwhile.”

“Two condoms?” He pondered the idea, a smirk growing on his face. “I take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn’t.” You laughed, shaking your head at his undying commitment to knowing you. “It wasn’t meant as one.”

“Then it seems like you have a knack for making insults sound like a good thing.” His eyes flickered to your lips, his personality showing through the mask for a moment. He was enamoured with you, and he was from the minute he sat down. Your disinterest was not a deterrent to him, but rather a driving force. The banter was driving him crazy, and he was not willing to go home without you.

“Maybe you just have no idea how to take a hint.” You suggested the idea, but both of you knew he was painfully aware of the situation. He knew he could step back if he so pleased, but he did not want to, nor was it an option he was willing to consider. Oddly enough, you almost found it charming. His dedication was not creepy or anything like it, mostly because he was not using vulgarity as part of his charm. You knew if you got up and walked away, he would respect it. Unfortunately, he knew just as well as you did that you would never back down and give up your seat. You could complain all you wanted about his interest in you, but you were encouraging it by interacting with him. Even in your obvious rejection, he knew he had interested you enough for you to speak to him.

“I’m Jake.” He said, disregarding your comment.

“I said I didn’t care.”

“Never said you had to care.” He reminded, finishing his drink and raising a hand to call the bartender over again. You watched him, baffled at his carelessness towards your clear insults. It seemed to wash off of him like water on a duck’s back, barely touching his confidence and only fuelling him further. He ordered another round of drinks for both of you, not bothering to ask if you wanted another. As he spoke to the bartender, you couldn’t help but study him for a moment. He was gorgeously dressed, drawing attention to his stunning features as he topped it off with a cocky attitude. Everything about him was compelling, and even if you weren’t keen on his company, it was incredibly difficult to ignore him. He held himself with confidence, and because of that, he radiated power. You would be lying if you said you did not find him attractive, but it did not change the fact that you were not interested in pursuing anything with him, or anyone for that matter.

Ray placed your new drinks in front of you, wasting little time in busying himself with something else. You almost felt guilty for being so mean to Jake while he was funding your night of drinking, but you did not ask him to spend money on you. You did not even ask him to speak to you, yet it seemed like the only thing he wanted to do. “Thanks.” You said, looking down at the ice swirling in the amber liquid. Even if you didn’t want to engage in any kind of sexual relations with him, you still had manners.

“So, what are you here for, tonight?” He questioned, ignoring your gratitude. He did not want to be thanked for something he was more than happy to do. You raised an eyebrow, curious about his inquiry. “Well, you’re drinking whiskey, so clearly it’s not fighting, dancing, or crying.” You chuckled at his recollections of your earlier comment.

“I’m here for a cheap drunk.” You replied, honest with your answer. “Cheapest whiskey in town, and the regulars aren’t too bad, considering I’m one of them.” He nodded along with your words, soaking in all you were willing to share. “Every Friday, same bar, same seat, same shitty football games.”

“You’re saying I have another shot if I mess this up?” He gave a playful smile which you couldn’t stop yourself from returning.

“Sure, you can take as many shots as you want. It’ll be the same answer every time, I can promise you that.”

“We’ll see.” He answered as if it were a challenge and he was competing. You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back the expression. “Just a conversation, that’s all I’m asking for. After that, you can throw your drink in my face and forget about me in the morning.”

“I know that it’s more than a conversation to you, Jacob.” You shot back. People like him were predictable, even if they were charming. As much as you knew he would waste your time, you knew you were wasting his. It was in his best interest to find a girl who was more likely to go home with him, because he would inevitably leave the bar empty handed and wishing he had taken a chance on another.

“Sounds like you’re scared I’m going to change your mind.” Your spine straightened at the accusatory statement. You were not afraid, and you did not like being told by another what you were feeling. What you did like was a challenge, and now that he’d worded it as such, that was the only thing you could think of.

“Fine. Let’s talk.” You smacked your palms against the table, a course of energy running through your body. You swung your chair to face him, just so he knew you were fully immersed in him. If he wanted to have a conversation, you could do that. If he thought he could convince you to take a chance on him, you were more than willing to prove him wrong.

It was a mistake that could only be classified as a fatality.

“Where are you from, Jake?” You asked, trying your best to feign intrigue.

“Michigan.” He tried to hide the smirk growing on his lips, pleased that he managed to push the right buttons. “You?”

“Right here in Nashville. Born and raised, never left, don’t want to.” You explained, waiting for him to ask a question, now.

“What do you do for work?”

“Photography.” You replied, not willing to delve deeper into the subject.

“That’s really cool.” He noted, genuine interest showing in his face. “I’m a musician.”

“I see,” you hummed, knowing that it was just another reason for you to abstain from knowing him. Musicians were never good news, and growing up in Nashville, you’d learned that the hard way. Most people who chased after fame had little care for anything else, and they were destined to break hearts. “Let me guess, guitar?”

“How’d you know?” He asked, but he didn’t really think it was hard to guess. It was the most common instrument in the industry, and in Nashville, everyone played guitar.

“Lucky guess.” You joked. “Band or solo act?”

“Band, I’m no singer.” He laughed.

“Don’t need to sing to be a good guitarist.” You challenged.

“Good point,” he agreed. “We just moved here, thought it was time. We made a few albums, but we’re looking for something bigger.”

“Are you any good?” You sipped at your drink. The quick-fire questions were wearing you down and you needed a pick me up.

“I’d like to think so, but everyone has their own opinion.” You hummed in agreement, not willing to make a promise to listen to his music, but curious about his skill. “Maybe we could get you to do a photoshoot for us.”

“I’m out of your price range.” You teased, a smile on your lips. The conversation was not unbearable, but definitely was not something you came to the bar with intent to do.

“I’m sure we could figure out a suitable payment.” He said, unable to hold back the drop in his voice and the lustful twinkle in his eye. You watched him, wanting to chastise him for the flirting, but you felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in your stomach. You were immune to charm most of the time, but something about him was irresistible. You weren’t sure if it was the relaxed posture and the certainty in himself, or if it was the overwhelming beauty of him as a whole. Whatever it was, he was pulling you in without you even noticing. You were struggling to fight it mostly because it was so subtle. Before you could realize you were being trapped, there was no way you could escape.

“I thought this was just a friendly conversation, Jacob?” You couldn’t help the drawl in your tone that screamed for him to keep going. You wanted to blame it on the strength of the liquor in your cup lowering your inhibitions, mostly because you refused to admit it was solely due to his captivating stare.

“I don’t think I’m being unfriendly, sweetheart.” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, so delightful even if it was filthy.

“Too friendly, perhaps?” You corrected. Both of you were leaning in to each other without even realizing it. The tension was thick in the air, and it had been from the moment he sat down. Even if you were not looking for anything more, you couldn’t deny the strength of the chemistry between you.

“What’s your issue with me?” He smirked, wanting to get to the bottom of it.

“It’s not you specifically.” You were truthful with your answer. It was not him, but rather dating as a whole. “The whole dating game was never my thing, and I don’t plan on getting into it, now.”

“Who said anything about dating?” He challenged.

“Nobody, but I don’t like hookups, either.” You explained. “Something about pointless small talk and meaningless sex never really interested me. Why would I want to tell you about myself now just to try to forget you in the morning?”

“I’d like to think that you’d have a hard time forgetting about me.” He was cocky, and that was for certain. It was something that would usually be a turn-off, but it looked so good on him that you couldn’t seem to shoot him down. “What about something in the middle?”

“What could possibly be in the middle of that?” You scoffed. “I don’t want a hookup, and I definitely don’t want to go to breakfast in the morning. I like my personal space, and I like being alone. Knowing you complicates that, and I hate complicated.”

“Do you like having friends?”

“I think I’d be a bit strange if I didn’t.” You replied. “But I know you’re not looking to be friends.”

“Do you like sex?” He continued his questioning without even acknowledging your concerns. Although it was blunt and definitely not a normal topic of conversation for two people who just met, it did not bother you.

“Most do.” You took another sip of your drink, the warmth spreading to your chest and replacing the burn of arousal brewing in your stomach. “Depends if it’s good or not.”

“We can be friends that have really good sex.” He offered, raising an eyebrow while he waited for a response. When you didn’t answer, he continued trying to sell the idea. “Casual, no strings attached whatsoever, but you wouldn’t need to forget about me, and we wouldn’t be obligated to go to breakfast in the morning.”

“How can I agree to that when I’m not even sure I want to be friends with you? More than that, I have no idea if you’re as good as you think you are. I don’t like being disappointed, Jacob.” You were calling a bluff you knew did not exist. He looked as if he was put on this earth to please others in ways many could never imagine. Just looking at his hands made your mouth water, already knowing the power he held in them. You couldn’t even think of anything further than that, because you knew that it would be far beyond anything you had ever felt before. You were trying not to crack under the pressure, but the thought of his head between your thighs was making it nearly impossible to breathe. “Besides, what if I’m not all you think I am? You don’t seem like the type to like disappointment, either.”

“From what I’ve seen, I don’t think you have it in you to disappoint, sweetheart.” His hand slowly reached out, fingers ever so slightly grazing the exposed skin on your leg. The touch was searing, painful but addicting. “I don’t like dating, but I do like you. I think it would be a shame if we never saw each other again.”

“Getting sick of playing the game every night?” You theorized. “Sounds like you’re getting lazy.” He shook his head, eyes seemingly staring into your soul as he watched your face.

“I just know what I want,” he corrected “and I don’t think I need to keep looking.” It was impossible to believe he was lying, because the look in his eye spoke certainty without him needing to say anything more.

“So, friends who have really good sex?” You clarified.

“Friends who have phenomenal sex, actually.” He said.

“I’m a busy woman, Jake. You better not be looking to waste my time.” You explained. “If I’m going to find time to entertain you, it better be worth it.”

“I’m a busy man,” he agreed “but I know how to make it worth your while.”

“Theoretically, if we did decide to do this, we’d just be having sex?” You asked, wanting to be certain of the situation. “You aren’t going to fall in love and fuck it all up?”

“I’m sure we can have a drink at the bar together every now and again. That’s where the friends part comes in, but yes, just sex.” He laughed. “I like you, I find you incredibly attractive and interesting, and I would like to see you again after tonight, but the same way we’re doing it right now. Maybe with less insults.”

“I can’t promise the insult thing.” You found yourself laughing alongside him. “You’re a very forward person, you know. We barely know each other.”

“I know you enough to know that I like you, and I also know that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since moving here.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Jake.” You could feel your cheeks burning, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or his sweet words.

“It’s worked so far.” He breathed, finding himself leaning closer to you. Your faces were inches apart, both of you able to close the gap with little struggle. His eyes were locked with yours, silently begging you to give in to him. You could feel him pulling you in, almost as if he had his own gravitational force and you were the only victim of it. Although, you knew that wasn’t true. With charm like his, you were sure that you were not the only one cowering underneath the weight of it. For tonight, you were his focus, but when the morning came, you figured he would forget the idea of casual sex and already be in search of another. Players loved to play, and they always fought dirty. You were certain he was just saying what he could to get in your pants and he would be a different person when you woke in the morning.

His hand slipped to your hip, the touch was euphoric even through the material of your dress. You wanted to give in, but you thought it was too good to be true. Someone interested in meeting your physical needs without imposing on your everyday routine seemed like a great idea, but it was so perfect that you had a hard time believing it could be so simple. Even considering your fears, the ache between your legs was impossible to ignore, and it had been a long time since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another. “This sounds like a bad idea.” You warned, eyes flickering to his lips. His nose was brushing against yours now, sending jolts of electricity through you.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered, so quiet that it was almost hard to hear him over the music playing in the background.

“Not really.” You laughed, but just barely. You were scared to move away, and you were scared to move forward.

“One night, and if you still think it’s a bad idea, we can just forget about it.” He offered, still so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. He smelled like whiskey, and you were sure you caught a hint of a Cuban cigar. He was intoxicating, more so than any alcoholic beverage you had consumed that night. Your head was spinning and your rationality was slipping away. You were enamoured with him, and you felt like you were completely consumed by his presence. The world stopped turning, the music stopped playing; the only thing you could hear was your heartbeat which was in time with his own.

“One night?” You breathed, coming to terms with the idea that he was inescapable. You knew you should have walked away when you had the chance, but there was a bigger part of you that was grateful you stayed. You had the opportunity to add some excitement to your life without changing anything at all. You didn’t come to the bar in search of a thrill, but Jake seemed to be promising enough. No worry of a hookup that left you unfulfilled and regretful, and no expectation for anything more. It was exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“One night. Trial run.” He reiterated, hoping to ease your mind. “That sound good to you, angel?” You went weak at the pet name, all of your willpower dissolving into an imminent need for more. You reached your hand up, cupping his cheek in your palm and bridged the gap between you. His fingers tightened on you, enthusiastic about your sudden change of heart. The kiss was laced with the weight of every sinful desire you had ever felt before, and even more than that. It was so profound that it made your chest ache and you feared that if there was a god, he would never forgive you for the sacrilegious things you so badly wanted to commit with the man before you. “Thought I couldn’t change your mind?” He asked, barely parted from you. You could feel him smirk against your lips, but it wasn’t even aggravating enough for you to care.

“Shut up and take me home, Jacob.” You said, unwilling to wait any longer in fear you might talk yourself out of it. Instead of a verbal response, he placed another kiss on your lips before turning to close out the tab you had run up. Within a few moments, your jacket was over your shoulders and he was calling you both a cab.

In the backseat of the car, you both tried your best to keep it PG, but the tension of the night was reaching a climatic end. His hand was permanently anchored on your thigh just under the skirt of your dress, fingertips dangerously close to the parts of you he was so desperate to know. Your hand was on his wrist, holding it tightly just to make sure he didn’t get any ideas that would get you in trouble. In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid for you to agree to go to a strangers house for the promise of sex. You had no idea if he was as genuine as he appeared, yet it seemed a bit too late for that concern. You also had no idea how he managed to coerce you into joining him, but a part of you was ecstatic that he did. The calloused fingertips dancing over the soft skin of your leg led you to believe that your decision would benefit you greatly, because no average person could produce such an impact with such a little effort.

Jake handed a bill to the driver once the car was parked in the driveway of an apartment complex. He didn’t wait for the change, but did utter a small thanks before rushing out to open your door for you. “A gentleman.” You noted. He gave a chuckle, slipping his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the door. He let you both inside, keeping quiet as he led you to his apartment. He unlocked his door, holding it open for you and allowing you to go first. You took in the sight, noticing the simplistic nature of the decor as you took off your shoes.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” He said, flipping on a light for you.

“No, it’s cute. I like it.” You assured him, feeling nervousness begin to creep in. The air smelled like him, but you couldn’t place the familiarity. It was earthy, smoky, and overall enticing. In the kitchen, you noticed a couple frames on the walls with pictures of him and three other boys. Your eyes lingered over the faces, smiling as you studied them. You turned your head to look into the living room, noticing a record player under the dim yellow lighting of a lamp. There was a few posters splayed on the walls and a couple plants sitting on the windowsills. It was not what you were expecting, but you thought it was effortlessly him. You did not know him very well, but from what you knew of him, the vibe seemed to match the personality.

His hand landed on your lower back, causing you to jump slightly under his touch. “You okay?” He asked, looking down at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to cover up the anxious look on your face. “You’re not… you’re not going to kill me, are you? Because that would suck.” He let out a laugh, a true one that was loud and came straight from his chest.

“No, sweetheart, I can promise you I’m not going to kill you.” He said, turning you to face him. You looked up at him, seeing genuineness written all over his expression. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your chin between his fingers. “You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Okay,” you sighed, feeling relief flood your body. You knew that it was irrational, but hearing the words of comfort helped. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips as reassurance. “Is that the rest your band in those pictures?” You asked, finding the courage for conversation again. He looked to the frames, nodding his head.

“Yeah.” Without hesitation, he guided you towards them so you could get a closer look. “That one’s Josh, he’s my twin brother. He sings.” He pointed at the boy with short, curly hair. You did notice how similar their faces looked now that you were a bit closer. You thought it was cool that he was a twin, and you wondered if his brother had the same irrefutable charm. “That one is Sam, he’s my youngest brother, and he plays the bass.” He pointed towards the tall boy with long, brown hair. They also looked strikingly similar, and if he hadn’t already told you that Josh was his twin, you might have mistaken Sam to be one. “And that’s Daniel, our drummer. He’s Sam’s best friend, but he’s more like a brother, too.”

“That’s really cool, actually.” You said, looking back over at him. “You guys won the genetic lottery, looks and talent-wise.” The hand he had resting on your back tightened at the compliment as a smile began to blossom on his face. You could tell how much the other three boys meant to him without him even saying a word. “So, do you do this tour with everyone you bring home, or am I just special?”

“No, you’re just special.” He said without missing a beat. You felt your cheeks tinge red at his words, not expecting him to be so blunt. “Besides, friends need to know each other, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You suddenly remembered that you were not there with the intent of being a one night stand. You would have asked him more, but you had a sneaking suspicion the tour was coming to an end. You both seemed to overcome your streak of anxiety and remembered the state that you arrived in. “So, are you going to prove that you weren’t bluffing, or are we just going to stand here all night?” He looked down at you, intrigued in your change of direction.

“Do you think I was bluffing?” He asked, shifting to face you. You looked up at him, giving a slight shrug of your shoulders.

“If the shoe fits.” You barely had time to process his reactive expression, because his hands were on your hips and his mouth was on your own. With the new found freedoms of privacy, desperation made its first appearance of the night. His hands were groping you with a feral attitude, and yours were doing just the same. It took no time for you to undo the buttons of his shirt, brushing it off his shoulders with excitement to see more. He let go of you only for long enough to slip the fabric off his body, then his hands returned to you in the same fervent manner.

The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, pulling you further into his web and trapping you there for eternity. You knew that despite your promises of only spending a single night together, you would be crawling back to him begging for more before the morning even came. In the (very) short time you’d known him, it was incredibly apparent to you that he was an addiction that was impossible to overcome. He was injecting himself into your veins, burrowing under your skin and filling your lungs with his being. You weren’t sure if it was purposefully, or if it was just an extension of his outlandish charm.

He took you by surprise, his grip tightening on your hips just before he lifted you with ease. He took a few steps forward, sitting you gently on his kitchen counter. He was quick to find home between your legs, never once breaking the kiss. You let your fingers dance over his now bare bicep, wanting to familiarize yourself with every part of him. When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless with stars in your eyes. “Do you still think I’m bluffing, or do I have to prove myself?”

“If I say no, it would ruin all the fun.” You sighed, still trying to catch your breath.

“I guess it’s a good thing I was going to prove it, anyway.” His fingers snaked under your dress, creeping up to your hip where the elastic of your underwear was resting. He hooked them through the side, but did not go any further. “Let’s go over some rules, first.”

“I hate rules,” you said, only focused on the sensation of his fingers resting on your bare skin. “They’re meant to be broken, anyway.”

“Not with me, sweetheart.” He chuckled, his other hand guiding your chin up so you would keep your eyes locked with his. “I’m going to be easy on you, but I need you to be honest with me about what you want. Got it?”

“Okay.” You nodded, the power in his gaze making your squirm underneath him.

“Remember your colours. Green means keep going, yellow means slow down, red means stop. Never, never be scared of telling me to stop or slow down.” The topic was not up for debate, and you were under clear understanding of what he needed from you.

“Okay.” You repeated, nodding your head against his hold. “Any other colours I should know?”

“How about blue, for ‘this is the best sex I’ve ever had’?” He smirked, playfulness sparkling in his eyes.

“Don’t expect to hear that one.” You teased, eyes flickering to his lips in hopes he would kiss you again. Your last jab seemed to motivate him to do so, but this time he didn’t seem as enthusiastic.

“Careful.” He warned. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty, or I wouldn’t be so nice.”

“How thoughtful.” You made sure your sarcasm was apparent. He seemed fired up at your response, but was not comfortable enough with you yet to show it. Or, perhaps he was afraid to scare you away. “Any other rules I should keep in mind?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, happy you asked. “You refer to me as ‘Sir’.” You had to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. The request was silly to you, and he was aware that you thought so. You had little desire to refer to someone you just met as ‘Sir’. Even if the dom/sub dynamic was something you enjoyed, you couldn’t deny that you liked to push buttons, and his seemed like so much fun to mess with.

“I think that’s a title you have to earn, don’t you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling him tense under your touch. He shifted his hold on your face, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers and raising an eyebrow at you. The look in his eye made you believe that his patience was already beginning to run thin. You fought back an eye roll, but couldn’t ignore the throbbing feeling between your legs that was growing stronger by the second. “Whatever you want, Sir.” You made sure to accentuate the emotion in the word, showcasing your feelings about the situation.

“Lose the attitude,” he ordered, but seemed pleased with the compliance. “If you’re good for me, I’ll be good to you.” Even in his dominating performance, he seemed to be gentle with you. He did not want to push you too far on the first try, mostly because he wanted to ensure you would come back for more. He liked you, and not just because he thought you were gorgeous. He liked the fire that seemed to burn in your heart, and the way you always had a comeback for any of his comments. He was not shy to admit that he was completely infatuated with you, and even if he was not interested in dating, he did think it would be a shame if he could not see you again once the night was through.

“I’ll be so good for you, Sir. I promise.” A smirk was plastered across your lips as you spoke, driving him crazy without even trying too hard. You couldn’t help yourself from messing with him. He was extremely attractive and you were very interested in what he had to offer, but you had never been the type to take orders without a fight. It appeared like he loved order, and you had always loved pushing boundaries.

It was a match made in hell, and both of you were completely blind to it.

“And you think I talk a lot?” He questioned, giving a hard tug on the fabric of your underwear. It tightened against your skin only for a moment before it snapped, giving him the freedom to do as he pleased with you.

“Hey,” you protested, your eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. “Those were expensive.”

“I’ll replace them.” He assured you, sliding his hand to the other side to do the same.

“So you’re offering to be a sugar daddy, now? Didn’t know that was part of the deal.” You huffed, using your hands to prop yourself up off the counter. With your new position, he removed the ripped fabric from you completely.

“Offering to replace what I destroyed doesn’t mean I’m paying you to fuck me.” He said, bunching the skirt of your tight dress and pushing it to your hips. You let yourself back down on the counter, the cool marble taking you by surprise. “I don’t need to pay you for that. We both know you’ll be back on your own accord.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself.” You argued, watching as his fingertips dusted over your bare thighs. You wanted to quiver under the touch, but you couldn’t allow him the satisfaction. His eyes flickered to your face, clearly displeased by your constant rebuttals. “Sir.” You added, noticing the muscles in his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. He continued forward, inching his fingers between your legs. He gave one forceful move of his wrist and spread them for you. A gasp of surprise slipped out as he brought his fingers to your cunt and ran them through the arousal that was pooling.

“And you talk a lot of shit for someone who wants to get fucked.” His voice was low, now completely unconcerned about your bratty attitude. He was done with the conversation, and he was more than ready to get you to stop talking. His fingers gathered the wetness, slowly trailing upward to your clit. He started with slow circles, his touch light as a feather and only serving as a reminder of what you were there for. You leaned back slightly, allowing him easier access to you. “Now, let’s hear something worthwhile come out of your mouth.” He applied a bit more pressure, the feeling already distracting you from your desire to argue. “How does that feel, angel?” He asked, sliding his thumb in place of his fingers and continuing his earlier pace.

“G-good,” you stuttered, amazed at the pleasure he was giving you just from the small movement. You weren’t sure if it was so good because of his talent, or if it had just been too long since you had felt the touch of another like such. At the positive nature of your comment, he found enough generosity to slowly add his fingers to you, pumping them slowly to give you some extra stimulation. “Fuck, baby.” You sighed, letting your head fall forward to rest on his own forehead. He could not chastise you for not using the term he’d asked you to, mostly because the pet name sounded so beautiful coming from your mouth.

In that moment, he was certain he would let you call him whatever you wanted as long as you said it in the same sweet tone.

“This is what you wanted, hmm?” He whispered, moving his thumb in time with the pump of his fingers, keeping the pace as the pressure steadily began rising in your belly. “Is this why you were being so bratty? You just wanted me to touch you?”

“Yes, sir.” You muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he curled his fingers upwards. He was making you feel far too good for you to want to disobey his orders.

“So, that’s the trick.” He chuckled, eyes intently focused on his hand working at your cunt. “Just need to give you some attention and that will shut you up.” He rasped, the sight of you nearly sending him feral. He was desperate for relief himself, but unwilling to show it until he knew you were well taken care of. If he wanted you to come back, he needed to give you something to make you want to come back.

“Please, don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling a thin layer of sweat form over your face. Your heart was pounding against your chest and your breathing was laboured. The pressure was unbearable, and the threat of an orgasm was imminent. You could not even find it within yourself to hold off, nor taunt him any further. It had been so long since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another, and you had never felt it quite it the same as he was giving you.

“Already?” He teased, but his tone was incredibly soft. He didn’t care that you were already there, and if anything, he took it as a compliment to his work. “Has nobody been taking care of you, angel?” He made it a point to perfect his movements, not wanting to lose the momentum even for a second. “Answer me,” he whispered, but the order was firm.

“N-no,” you shook your head against him, honesty radiating from you. You couldn’t really hide anything in such an intimate display, and you knew even if you tried to lie to him, he would easily see through you. “Nobody.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, sweet girl.” He assured you. The pet name washed over you like summer rain, enveloping you in warmth and surrounding you with a comfort that would last as long as he continued to touch you. “I’ll take care of her, just like she deserves.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his words, overwhelmed by the vulgarity and weak from the heartfelt promise. He felt you clench around his fingers, knowing that you were ready to come undone. He was more than willing to give you the orgasm, almost as desperate as you were for it. After an entire night of only being shot down, the gratification from taking you for his own was unexplainable. “Cum for me, angel. I know you want to.” He purred, moving his free hand to the back of your head for extra support. The last thing he wanted was for you to lose balance and be distracted from the pleasure.

“Oh, god.” You groaned, eyes screwed shut as your mind dissolved into nothing but thoughts about the man before you. You were praying to him as if he were the god that created the earth for you to walk on, and in that moment, he was. As the orgasm washed over you, the only thing to exist in the entirety of the universe was Jake, and you were perfectly content with the power he possessed.

But, he was not a god, nor anything holy. Jake was the devil reincarnate, and he was not there as a reward for your courageous sacrifices. He was there as punishment for every mistake and every sin you had committed in this lifetime and all the ones before. In that moment, he seemed like he was put in your life as a blessing, a gift for the troubles you had endured, but the reality was harsh and you were completely blind to it. When your mind cleared and the haze of sexual tension lifted, you were able to look deeper into the ties that held you together with him, but even then it did not seem to matter. His work was done, and you had fallen victim to the temptation. Jake would be the solution to every sexual desire that you could even imagine would come, but he would be the root cause for a world of trouble you had been desperately trying to stay away from.

Jake was the type of person you could fall in love with, and despite your hatred for dating and all things that came along with it, you were in long past in love just by the first touch. You were addicted to him, and dependancy was infinitely worse than love according to your standards. The power he possessed in his hands was otherworldly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine what else he had in store for you. Your agreement for a single night would be the worst decision you had ever made, but like all bad decisions, you would not realize the extent of the issue until it was long past repairable.

You were brought back to reality by Jake removing his hand from you. The loss of contact was nearly excruciating, and you were desperate for him to keep going until the both of you collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. Even then, you were sure you could still find enough energy to wrap yourself around him once more. “How was that, angel?” He hummed, pulling back from you only slightly. You looked up at him, your eyes heavy-lidded and your body still trembling with the ghost of the orgasm.

“It was so good,” you sighed, already reminiscing on the memory. He gave you a smirk, so small that it was barely noticeable, but you picked up on it. You were certain that you would study ever minuscule detail and movement until it drove you to insanity. He was so captivating that he was the only thing you wanted to know about. He raised his fingers to his lips, sliding his middle finger in his mouth while holding a steady eye contact with you. When his finger landed on his tongue, his eyes fluttered closed in bliss, savouring the taste of your orgasm for as long as he could. After a few seconds, he pulled the digit from his lips, leaving a slight echo of a pop ringing through the air.

“Taste even better than I imagined.” He muttered. Your entire body prickled with an unfamiliar feeling, and you thought you might come undone again just at the sight. Your skin was ablaze with arousal, and your chest was burning with need for him. You had little care about what he was going to do next, and you were just happy to be on the receiving end of it. “See, it wasn’t so hard to be good for me, was it?”

“No, sir.” You breathed, watching him in awe. He took in a long breath, letting the word settle deep in his bones with pride.

“Can you keep being a good girl for me?” He asked, his voice barely breaking through the air.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, making sure he knew you were being truthful. He smiled at the sound, crouching down slightly and hooking his legs under your thighs. Gently, he brought you to the edge of the countertop, wasting no time before bringing his mouth to your cunt. It was a fantastic apology for the withdrawal of his hands, and it send you straight back into a cloud of euphoria. Your hands snaked to his hair, pulling at the roots in attempt to get him closer than he already was.

His tongue found your clit with little hesitation, and he was working at you like a man starved. His fingers were branding your thighs with marks bound to last long past the excitement, and you didn’t care a bit about it. The evil laced within the movements of his tongue was incomprehensible, much greater than anything he had bestowed upon you with his fingers. You wanted to believe that the man nestled between your thighs was purely human that had just been blessed with otherworldly charm, but you were beginning to have your doubts about the matter. You feared that he was an entity you had not yet encountered, one with strength and power you could not comprehend.

By the first touch, you were in too deep to pull yourself out, and now, you had done nothing but cement the foundation of the entanglement so strongly that not even an earthquake could shake it. He was so powerful that he made it seem natural, and it was almost terrifying. He could leech your life supply directly from the source without you even noticing, and once he began, it felt too good to stop him. He made it appear that you were the one controlling the situation, yet the control had never even been close enough for your fingertips to graze. He was inhuman, and that much you were sure of. The evil was so abundant inside of him that not even a priest could expel it enough to free him.

You knew this to be true, because as your eyes drifted downwards towards him, you could have sworn you saw the shadow of devil horns on the wall when the city lights broke through the darkness just right.

You did not have the luxury to focus on your revelations, because he had brought his hand back to you and continued at his earlier pace. A guttural moan tore from your chest, the feeling overwhelming and making it unable to focus on anything other than him. You finally understood why he was not interested in dating; he was so good at sex that it would be a waste of talent to only share it with one person. It made you curious as to why he was interested in a casual relationship with you, and why he thought that you were the golden ticket to fulfilling all of his needs. You were not anything fantastic, nor were you offering him anything substantial. You could not understand the potential he saw in you, but if he was willing to give you the promise of his hands and his tongue, you would be a fool to refuse it.

You were certain you could not only live, but thrive off the pleasure he was giving you for the rest of your life. If he was interested in a casual commitment to each other, low effort but with a glorious reward, you were more than happy to participate in the agreement. You were certain enough in yourself to cut him off if it got too intense, and you were committed enough to your own security to know when it was time to end things. In the meantime, harmless fun sounded fantastic, and he could provide just that. Besides, he looked too ethereal with his head between your thighs to worry about any consequences. Despite it only being the first time, he was so effortless with his work that it appeared as if he always belonged there.

“Fuck, Jake.” You hissed, finding it hard to keep holding yourself upright. Your arm was shaking underneath the weight of your body, and you cared so little about falling that you didn’t even bother to stop him so you could reposition. The pressure in your belly was intense, letting you know that you were close to the end anyway, and you didn’t need to take any precaution. If he continued at the same pace, you wouldn’t be able to contain your second orgasm of the night.

He hummed against you, showing his enthusiasm about your enjoyment. He made sure to curl his fingers again, remembering that you had enjoyed it the first time he had done it. A rush of pleasure ran through you and your legs involuntarily tightened against his head. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, completely disconnected from your brain and doing whatever it could to keep him there. The movement did not deter him, but only encouraged him further. With one last flick of his tongue in just the right place, you were driven over the edge and crying out his name. Your whole body was rigid, the intensity unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. If his intent truly was to give you the best sex of your life, he had went above and beyond to accomplish it, and you weren’t even to the best part, yet.

He slowly pulled back as he noticed you relax against him, instead peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs. As you both attempted to catch your breath, the tension in the air was at an all time high. You were eager for more, and he was eager to get started. When your mind cleared and you were able to form a coherent thought, you looked down at him with adoration sparkling in your eyes. “Blue.” You whispered, your voice raspy and your throat coarse from the noises he had pried from you. He looked up at the sound, unable to hide the smile on his face. His eyes told you that you had just given him the greatest compliment he’d ever received.

“Really?” He said as if he were pondering the truth of the statement. “I’m just getting started.”

“Really.” You sighed, nodding your head. It was a sad sigh, mostly because you hated admitting that he had been right all along. But, you had always been one to believe that you should give credit where credit is due, and this was definitely a perfect example of the philosophy. “I’ll even clean your counters for you, since I was the one who made the mess.” You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat with a blush.

“Don’t worry about that,” he brushed you off, rising to his feet. “That was the best meal this kitchen has ever seen.” You rolled your eyes at the comment, but couldn’t help the smile that was blossoming on your lips. Even in his boyish humour, there was still an unexplainable charm laced into it. Everything about him was irresistible, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him. You held on to his arm for support as you got down off the counter, refusing to let go until you were steady on your feet. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and bringing him into another kiss. The suddenness distracted him from his comment, and he was immediately immersed in you once again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, a gentle tease and a thank you for his service. You could feel him start to smile as you pulled away.

Without any further conversation, you slowly sunk to your knees in front of him. It took him a second to process your change in direction, but he certainly could not find a complaint about it. He was painfully hard, his erection strained against his pants as he waited for you to proceed. You made the process as slow as possible, needing to resume your commitment to your teasing. You knew it was driving him crazy, and if you had to admit, you loved it. You brought your hand to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops. You discarded it on the floor, moving next to the button and zipper. You unzipped it painfully slow, making sure to hold eye contact with him while you did so. With his help, his pants were also discarded in the floor, leaving him only in his boxers.

Your mouth was watering at the thought of what was beneath the thin material, eager to please him after such a phenomenal performance from him. With a little courage, you took the final step in freeing him from his boxers. You felt another rush of arousal straight to your core at the sight. He was desperate for relief, but he was allowing you to make the first move; as excited as he was, he cared greatly about your comfortability and wanted you to know you had the option to change your mind if needed. You moved forward, parting your lips slightly as you took him into your mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure at the feeling, the stimulation small but still fantastic. The sound gave you a boost of confidence, knowing that he would enjoy whatever you were offering him.

You relaxed your jaw, focusing on his head just for a moment. You let your tongue flick over the sensitive area a few times, revelling in the sounds of enjoyment coming from him. You thought they were the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard, and you would go to the ends of the earth to continue pleasing him just to hear them again. After a moment, you drew in a long breath before taking him in further. You took him far enough for the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat, then you began to bob your head. His head fell backwards in bliss as his hand reached to gather your hair from your face. You let out a moan against him, the vibration intensifying the feeling for him.

You had never been so willing to submit to a man, let alone a stranger on a one night stand, but you were willing to do it all for him. He was intoxicating, and you wanted to live in the filthy, drunken hookup for the rest of your life. It was exhilarating, and you had never experienced sex that was so enjoyable. Usually, the men talked themselves up so much that they inevitably underperformed. With some, it was easy to overlook the disappointment because they left you with an orgasm or two, but most didn’t even meet that quota. Never in your life had you found someone who was so concerned with your pleasure, and never one who was so willing to give before receiving anything himself. It was practically unheard of in modern dating and hookup culture, and you weren’t willing to let him slip through your fingers.

If he wanted casual with no strings attached, you would oblige to the request without any further hesitation. He had proved himself beyond anything you could have imagined, and your only hope was that you could do the same.

He let out a sigh, holding your hair tightly in his fist. He couldn’t stop himself from guiding your head down on him, the need for more too much to resist. “You look even prettier with my cock in your mouth.” He muttered, looking down at you while you tried to keep up with his guidance. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare through your lashes. He was feral looking, his jaw hard set with a flame dancing in his pupils. He was crazy for you, and he felt no need to hide it. You let out a hum of agreement, the vibration adding a little more energy to the sensation he was already experiencing. “Fuck, angel.” He groaned, adding a little more force to his hand. “Just tap my leg if you need me to stop.”

With that, he began moving your head for you, completely taking the control. He tried his best to keep it tolerable for you, but he was succumbing to the pleasure more with each second that passed. You tried your best to focus on your breathing rather than the feeling of him down your throat, but it was growing difficult with each thrust of his hips. Tears were forming in your eyes, smudging mascara down your cheeks, and you were fighting a gag with every movement. You were too stubborn to give up, but you had to admit that his size was a bit hard to handle. His grip on your hair was tight, and he seemed too enthralled in the moment to notice your struggle.

He pushed your head down on him, his cock sliding down your throat as his head fell back in bliss. Your eyes squeezed shut as your throat constricted around him, the gag no longer able to be prevented. He let out a long slur of curses laced with a moan, enjoying every second of your suffering. You had to admit that you were enjoying it too, and you knew that you would do it a million times over again just to please him. You felt him twitch in your mouth, a sure sign that he was close, but he wasn’t willing to risk ending the fun. He withdrew, finally allowing you a full breath of air. You coughed a few times, clearing your throat and bringing yourself back to reality. He kneeled down to your level, eyes carefully inspecting your face.

He did enjoy the sight of you so disheveled, but he worried that he went a little too far. He brought his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the tear stains as you wiped your chin clean from any spit still lingering. “You want me to fuck you now, baby?”

“Yes, please.” You muttered, nodding your head eagerly. He helped you to your feet, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss that lasted only a few seconds.

“Let’s get this off of you.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands snaking under the bunched up material of your dress. You pulled back from him, lifting your arms and allowing him to slip it over your head. He tossed it to the floor, but his eyes were only focused on your now fully exposed body. He took in a long breath, trying his best to contain the filthy thoughts he was having, but it was showing clearly in his expression alone. You watched him, silent and unmoving while you awaited his next move. Slowly, he brought his hands back to you, gentle in his touch as if he thought you were fragile. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen some so beautiful before and he wanted to take his time to fully admire you.

His hands dropped to your hips as he guided you towards him and your hands reached out for him, already yearning to feel him on your skin again. He kissed you again, more intense than the one before and this time, he didn’t seem keen on breaking it. In a swift motion, he picked you up once more. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Instead of placing you on the counter again, he turned around and broke the kiss just for a moment to see what his next move would be. His eyes landed on the kitchen table, his train of thought apparent without him even speaking a word. He took two steps forward, holding you tightly with one hand to make sure he wouldn’t drop you. He inspected the surface that was littered with papers and journals full of half-written songs.

With little care, he took his free hand and swiped away all of the items with a single movement. You turned your head, looking to watch all of papers float to the floor with little grace. You couldn’t deny that his actions only turned you on more; the desperation laced within his solution was hot, much like everything else he had done that night. He bent down, placing you on the table with caution. He let his hands fall back to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the table so he could have easy access to you. His hand drifted to your lower back as he brought his lips to your neck, finding the most sensitive spots straight away. You barely knew him, and you barely knew anything about him, but he seemed to know your body better than anyone ever had before. It was like he had a greater understanding of you than even yourself.

A breathy moan sounded from you as he sucked light marks into the skin just below your ear. One of his hands came to your chest, happy that your lack of clothing was giving him the opportunity to know all of you. He let his thumb drift over your nipple, sending a surge of electricity straight through you. Everything he was doing felt amazing, but you were done with the foreplay, even if it was fantastic. The tension was so strong that you thought you might break underneath the weight of it.

“Please fuck me, Jake.” You begged, delirious from all of the stimulation that you were feeling. “I need you.” His eyes rolled back in his head at the sound, addicted to the feeling of being needed by you. It was better than any drug and stronger than any other addiction. He would do whatever he could to make sure you always wanted him that way.

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” He threw out the rhetoric, not expecting an answer from you. Instead he hiked your leg up and around him, making sure you took the hint to hold it there. “Didn’t realize you were such a little whore.” The word knocked the air from your lungs, replacing it with a venomous desire. Your chest was burning from how badly you needed him, and you knew that you would do anything just to be insulted by him, because even hurtful words sounded pleasant coming from his mouth. It was a luxury to be a whore for him, and you were an idiot for trying so hard to turn him down.

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, both of you aching for relief, knowing that the sex was bound to be beyond anything you had been imagining all night. “You want me, angel?” He asked, his voice husky and filled with lust. You caught sight of his eyes, which were now completely unfamiliar to you. The warm brown that was so inviting was not black with desire, and a different man was standing before you.

If you had to admit, you liked this one much better.

“Please, sir. Need you inside of me.” You whispered, sweetly and softly to coax him into giving you what you wanted. The gentle tone seemed to drive him over the edge, and without any further consideration, he pushed himself inside you. You both let out a mutual sigh of satisfaction at the feeling, but you were both already wanting more. He could not bother with a slow start, knowing that neither of you wanted to take things easy. His rocked his hips while keeping a firm hold on your hips, making sure nothing could disturb the long awaited pleasures.

You wrapped an arm around his neck, already finding yourself bargaining with an orgasm. If he was an evil entity, his trade was sex, and you knew he could use it for punishment and reward. Something about him was otherworldly, and you started to fear that your agreement with him would ultimately be your demise. He made you feel too good to want to let go of him, but the idea of the relationship getting messy was paralyzingly terrifying. At the same time, rationality was only second to the way he made you feel, and heartbreak was a risk you were willing to take to indulge in his sin.

“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He did not need to ask the question; he already knew the answer, and the affirmation was solely to further his growing ego.

“Feels so fucking good.” You whimpered, struggling to keep your leg wrapped around him while he continued on his brutal pace. He was hitting the perfect angle, a pleasurable pain shooting through you with every re-entry. He used his arm to guide your upper half down towards the table, and you used a free hand to hold yourself up.

“Being so good for me, angel.” His fingers reached between your legs while his gaze stayed focused on your face, enthralled in the expressions you were making. Your eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he found your clit again, rubbing circles as he continued to fuck you. You thought it almost comical that he called you angel, because you were so convinced that he was the devil. The two did not seem to coincide with each other, yet you remained tangled up in each other in what felt like perfect harmony.

The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, much more intense than you expected, and it was a feeling you wished to have forever. You would be perfectly content if you lived out your next sixty years in the same position, with his hands on you and his sweet words whispered in your ear. His fingers focused on your already sensitive clit was driving you near insanity. You weren’t sure if he was naturally good at what he did, or if he was trying extra hard to ensure you would come back to him. Either way, you were certain that when the morning came and you sobered up, you would still want him just the same. Days would pass, and you would be knocking on his door begging for a shred of what he gave you the first night you spent together. It was so good that you didn’t even care if he played the same game with every girl he picked up at the bar, because even if it was a reused version of his character, it was working. Every movement, every slight touch and sweet word that came from his mouth seemed special, like it was perfectly crafted just for your taste. You wanted to believe that even if he was a player and you were a recluse that denounced love, the moments shared between you was of importance.

“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” His words came out in a slight slur, telling you that he was having a hard time holding back his own orgasm. The night was so full of excitement that you were both surprised he held on for as long as he did. He was ready to fuck you as soon as he laid his eyes on you in the bar, and everything that came after was pure torture. He was struggling with not succumbing to the temptation, mostly because he was determined to give you even more than he already had. Disappointment was not a factor he was willing to accept.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, noticing the movements of his fingers become more precise. His free hand rose to your neck, his fingers gently clasping around it to give you a chance to speak up against the action. You were so strung out from the pleasure that you were sure he could do whatever he wanted to you and you would never be able to find a complaint about it. When he was certain you were comfortable with his actions, his fingers tightened ever so slightly, beginning to restrict the blood flow to your head.

You took in a long breath, the burning in the pit of your stomach growing stronger by the second. You let your eyes close to focus on the pleasure, feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. “Come on, angel.” His gentle encouragement was heavenly paired with the movement of his fingers and his hips. You were barely hanging on, and as his hand tightened around your neck again, all of the nerves in your body ignited with a fire that was impossible to contain.

“Jake,” you warned, but the words were weak and the rasp in your voice made it near impossible to hear. He was listening intently though, and he heard it as clear as day. It was nothing but motivation for him, driving him to keep going. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was most concerned with making you feel good. His pleasure came second to yours, and it was not up for debate.

Your head began to spin and your legs started to shake. The earth felt like it was turned upside down and it was spinning out of control. The orgasm tore through you in a violent fashion, but you couldn’t seem to find the energy to voice it to him. He slowly released his hold on your neck and instead moved his hand to the back of your head to hold you upright. You took in a long breath, unsure if you would ever be able to fill your lungs with the air you so desperately needed. “That’s it,” he muttered, slowing his hips slightly to allow you to recover “that’s my girl.” The words send another rush of pleasure through you, extending the climax even further.

You were exhausted, but he was far from done. As you regained some control over your body and mind, he ceased the movement of his fingers. “That was amazing.” You sighed, clearing your throat from the rasp that was still lingering.

“Yeah?” He crooned, a cocky smile on his lips. Once he was sure you were well and fully recovered, he withdrew and used his arm to slide you off of the table. When your feet hit the floor, he wasted no time turning you around and guiding your upper half down towards the table. “You think you can keep being good for me?” He asked, the tip of his cock already eagerly resting against your cunt. You let out a mutter of agreement, too tired to speak the words to him. “Just a little bit longer, sweet girl.” He promised, reaching up and twisting your hair into his fist.

With that, he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling amplified even further due to the ghost of your last orgasm. You were extremely sensitive, almost so much so that you questioned if you could keep going. Once he started a steady rhythm and you were pulled back into pleasure, you knew you could. You would do anything to give back the feeling that he was giving you. “Oh, god.” You groaned, the angle in which he was moving already driving you crazy. His hand tightened on your hair, pushing your head further down on the table. Your cheek was pressed against it, but he wasn’t holding you too harshly in fear of hurting you. The legs of the table were rocking with his movement, and as he sped, you feared that it might break under the pressure.

“You take it so good, angel.” He muttered, but he was no longer talking to you; he was so lost in the sex that he had no filter for his thoughts. Anything and everything that came to mind was ultimately spoken, mostly because he could not find the will to hold it back. “Such a good little whore.” You let out a shaky breath, the words settling deep in your stomach, blossoming into the beginning of another orgasm. His free hand raised and his palm came down on your ass with a loud smack. It sent a jolt of pain through you, making you jump under the touch. “Can you give me one more?” He asked, his hips stuttering as he tried his best to keep his composure.

“I don’t know,” you were honest with him, knowing that you would love to comply with every one of his wishes, but also knowing that even the thought of another orgasm was exhausting. Your body was tired, and so was your mind. He was pushing you as far as you could go, but you were more than happy to let him do it.

“I know you can, sweetheart. Just one more.” He said, but it was a plea hidden inside a powerful tone. He needed you to come again, just so he could ensure he gave you as much as he possibly could.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your body doing all of the decision making for you. The knot in your stomach was tight, and your legs were locked in position to brace yourself for the intensity of the pleasure. The more he spoke to you, the more certain you felt about being unable to withstand another climax. Then again, you were sure he could convince you of anything if he was using the same sultry tone of voice.

“That’s it, baby.” He reinforced the idea, hoping you would submit to the feeling and stop worrying.

“I can’t,” you shook your head against his grip, knowing that you were long past your limit, even if your body was trying to convince you otherwise. The feeling of him inside you was so good that it was nearly painful, and your entire body was ablaze with overstimulation. He let his hand come down on your ass again, the sound echoing through the room and making home in the walls, permanently cementing the memory there. Neither of you would ever be able to look at the room the same way after such a filthy display was made in it.

“You can,” he pressed, not liking the disobedient attitude. He continued on with the steady movement of his hips, and before you knew it, you descended into a whole new type of pleasure below him. Your entire body seemed to give out from underneath you. Your legs were vibrating and tears were forming in your eyes as a slur of moans and curses fell from your lips. He slipped his arm underneath your hips, holding you up so there was no fear of you falling. Your walls were clenched around him, and you thought that the intensity alone would kill you. “Fuck, y/n.” He hissed, absolutely smitten by the state of you.

His own orgasm came harshly, sending him into a similar state of euphoria. His movements stuttered, and he was holding you up while trying not to topple over himself. Eventually, once you both seemed to relax, he slowed his hips to a near stop. He looked down at the sight, his jaw clenched as he fucked his release back into you. He was almost disappointed that the fun had come to an end, but he knew that you were much too tired to continue on. Carefully, he withdrew from you while continuing to hold you steady. “You okay, sweetheart?” The concern in his voice was astounding.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, your eyes refusing to open. You were so tired that you could have fallen asleep standing there, and your body was aching from the nights excitement.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He spoke softly, so different from the way he was speaking to you only moments before. He removed his hand from your hair and helped you off the table. When you were steady on your feet, he let his hand fall on your lower back in a gentle embrace, full of concern and care. He guided you to the bathroom where you both cleaned yourself and erased any evidence from the sinful experience you had engaged in. When you were finished, you returned to the kitchen and made a move to grab your dress. “What are you doing?” He chuckled, watching you with curiosity.

“Getting my clothes so I can go home.” You answered, but the sleepiness was making it hard to formulate the words.

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head, walking to meet you. He grabbed the dress from your hand and tossed it back on the floor before nudging you in the direction of his bedroom. “There’s no way I’m letting you get in a cab like that. I can take you home tomorrow.”

“I’m okay,” you tried to argue, but you were melting into the warm touch of his hands.

“You’re staying here, end of discussion.” He said, making sure you knew that he would not allow you to leave. “I’m not putting you in a taxi with a stranger while you’re this drunk and tired. Who knows what could happen.” He mumbled, the second part was more to himself than anything else. It almost seemed as if he was ashamed of caring so deeply.

“You’re a stranger, Jake.” You reminded him, but your eyes landed on the bed and you immediately felt a change of heart. It was screaming with coziness, the blankets and pillows more inviting than anything you’d ever seen before.

“Don’t think you can call me a stranger anymore, sweetheart.” He laughed, opening his dresser to grab you a t-shirt to sleep in. He tossed it on the bed so you could grab it, which you did while uttering a small thank you. You slipped it over your head, the smell of his cologne was overwhelming and oddly comforting. You pulled back the comforter and slid into the bed, your eyes immediately closing in bliss. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” He said, the sound causing you to crack an eye open in surprise.

“What?” You asked, baffled at his statement. “No, you can… I mean, if you want to… I don’t think it’s fair if I get the bed and you get the couch.” Your words came out in a jumbled mess, and your thoughts were just the same. “I can stay on the couch, or we can both… yeah.” You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment. You weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk or if it was because he was hot, but you were flustered and apparently, no good at hiding it.

“You’re sure you’re with me being in bed, too?” He didn’t speak a word about your nervous rambling. He didn’t want to embarrass you further, and in truth, he didn’t really care. He was only concerned about your comfort.

“Yeah.” You assured him. “Like you said, not really strangers anymore.” You laughed.

“That’s true.” He nodded, slipping on a pair of boxers and climbing under the covers, too. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him.

“Pushing it.” You said, but humour was clear in your tone.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” He laughed as you relaxed against him.

And sleep you did, carelessly and peacefully, unknowing and uncaring about the world of trouble you had created in just one small lapse of judgement. The morning would come and your senses would return, but it was far too late to stop the situation from descending into the chaos you were so desperate to avoid. His web was spun, and you were caught, even if neither of you were aware of the mistakes you had made that inevitably landed you there. The first deadly sin was committed, soon to be followed by six more, and not even a confession nor repenting could save you from your own wrongdoings.

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik

#gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #jake gvf #sam gvf #danny wagner #gvf fic #josh gvf #danny gvf #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka blurb #jake kiszka angst #gvf imagine #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #gvf angst #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #capital vices #builtbybrokenbells

[universallychaoticpan]

Fyodor x black winged reader, but s/o is very protective of him? A literal guardian angel. Even Dazai realize that it's very dangerous to attack Fyodor with s/o around.

oooo scary reader- it's giving quiet intimidating guardian and I love it. Heehehehe so fun; Im delighted with this idea and I hope I did it justice. Please enjoy and come back any time <333

The wind loved Fyodor; it clung to him, it's scent on his skin, sending his cape flying open behind him until it looked like he might fly away. He didn't have to try to look dangerous; a deadly appearance was innate, bespoke to him. And with the rising moon's white face showing through the decaying walls and open rafters, the wind running through the once grand place, his sighs felt like a great, volatile beast. Dazai was wary of letting his eyes leave the madman; at any other time, even he wouldn't enjoy letting him leave his sight. That was, if there wasn't another force, another being, perhaps just as deadly and only half as restrained.

The wind loved Fyodor. In the same way, it adored you.

Your legs hung down from where you sat, perched lightly on a rafter, sitting so prettily while you stared disdainfully down towards the two men. Quite a scene, really, a priest of destruction and a devotee to chaos; though the black wings sitting around your shoulders made you less of a worshiping devotee and more a vengeful god the more Dazai looked at you.

"I see you've spotted my dearest companion," Fyodor purred. "Quite a stunning thing, aren't they- that perfect mix of beautiful and deadly."

"You always did have an eye for beautiful things," Dazai replied. His eyes were still firmly on you, his relaxed expression not doing much to hide the set of his jaw or the way every flicker of movement in your body drew his attention. For your part, you didn't look away either- your gaze felt like a blade dragging over his skin, ready to draw blood if you so chose to.

"As did you; that at least I respect about you. However I must advise you not to get attached in any way. They do very much belong to me."

Dazai chuckled. "So you've found yourself a pretty songbird, then? How sweet."

Your laugh cut off any words either men could further utter. "How rich," you sighed gleefully. Standing, you swung yourself around a beam before letting go, your body dropping like a black comet before your wings stopped your fall. "The very notion alone is more than amusing." Your smile was unnervingly polite, like the three of you were chatting in a cafe and not very ready to kill each other. "However," you continued, stepping smoothly towards the two men, "I think you'll find he belongs to me just as much as I do him."

And the horrible thing was, Dazai could see it was true. Fyodor respected your power, that much was clear; you stood at his side, not behind him, but as an equal. But he also picked up on something much more subtle: the way Fydor's gaze softened the smallest amount when you crossed in front of him, the familiar way with which you spoke of one another.

This was no simple alliance of power; the two of you loved each other in some strange twisted way.

"You know," you murmured, stepping closer to Dazai, "I am well aware he has no need of another's protection. He wouldn't have come so far had he needed anyone. But," you paused, tracing a knife tipped nail gently around the dip of his throat, "rest assured if you dare try and lay a hand on him, there is nowhere you will be safe from me."

"I think you'll find I'm not someone who is easily frightened by idle threats," Dazai growled.

"Oh but that's just it," Fyodor chuckled lowly as you returned to his side. "They aren't idle at all. Unlike me, you haven't seen just how well the color of blood decorates them so nicely. Truly a wonderful sight."

Dazai scoffed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "You're fucking insane, both of you. You deserve each other."

"Perhaps," you replied. "But insanity and passion go well together.

That's why you haven't laid a hand on either of us!" Your cheerful smile chilled him, Fyodor's hand on the small of your back giving the two of you an eerily domestic look.

"You won't touch us because even you know nothing begets power quite like obsession."

#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader

[chaotic-on-main]

sky my lovely!!! first off congratulations you absolute sweetie pie!! so deserved and I cant wait to watch you grow more <3

second!! im sliding a $5 across the ice cream truck counter very suavely to order a pralines and cream with hot fudge (my absolute favorite!!) I'm thinking awkward unspoken feelings friends to lovers type thing?? like how long can we ignore that we woke up in each others arms??? AGH okay I love you mwah mwah thank you

Order up!! One pralines and cream with hot fudge for Mars!

Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event

☾ Pairings ➼ Megumi Fushiguro x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, expletives, one bed, friends to lovers (almost), modern au

☾ Author's Note ➼ Hi Mars!! Thank you so much for sending in a request! I may be a Levi girly, but I gotta admit I had a lot of fun writing this. I definitely did not start this at 2am and decided to stay up til 5am to finish it. I'm queueing this up though, worry not. Also I realized last minute you might have wanted more of the aftermath of waking up in each other's arms so if you would like a second part to this, please let me know?? I wouldn't mind, as I have something in mind that could work. But if I had continued, it would have easily been over 5k words and I need to work on other requests LMAO.

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2.2k

It would figure with your shitty track record, everything and their mother would do anything in their power to stop you from reaching your destination – your hometown. Due to traffic, multiple car wrecks, and now what felt like the heaviest thunderstorm known to man – you find yourself sitting behind the wheel 9 hours into what should have been a 7 hour drive. And according to the GPS display on the dash, you’re still a couple hours away from where you’re supposed to be.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the steering wheel in distress. The rain comes down in sheets, making the wipers work overtime just to give you a few seconds glimpse at the road ahead. You sat in silence because you had turned the radio off a few miles back so you could focus. A cough to your right startles you and it takes everything within you to not swerve off the road.

“Shit! Megumi, what the fuck.” You hiss, pressing your hand to your chest in a means to calm your beating heart.

“I just coughed, calm down.” Your black haired companion mumbles, rolling his eyes at you. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Well excuse me for trying to keep us alive. If you couldn’t tell, there’s a lot of shit happening outside.” You scowl. In your high-strung concentration, you completely forgot about your best friend sitting in the passenger seat. He’s the whole reason why you’re even going back home in the first place.

One of his friends from high school is getting married back in the hometown where you all grew up. You knew of this friend by association, but that was it. You didn’t even know Megumi back then, even though you went to the same school as him. You had actually met him at the local community college before both getting opportunities in the same city post-graduation. Now that you think back on it, Megumi has been your roommate for as long as you remember.

Maybe that’s why you felt the need to help him when his car decided to take a shit, offering to drive him at the very last minute. You suppose you could have let him just borrow your car, but you were persistent to drive him yourself. You told yourself it was to make sure your car got there and back in one piece. Part of you tells yourself you’re a liar.

Megumi calls your name.

“What?” You squint your eyes, as if that would help you see what was out the blurry windshield.

“Let’s just pull off and get a motel somewhere. This storm is not letting up and it’s already so late. You need a break.”

“I promised to get you there. So I’m doing that.” You frown at the possibility of failing him.

“You’re not breaking that promise by pulling off for the night. We’ll just get up early tomorrow and head straight there.” Megumi insists.

“We’re only a cou-“

“Pull off on the next exit or I’m grabbing the steering wheel from you.” He cuts in wryly.

“Then we’d both be dead, is that what you want?” He doesn’t say anything to that. When you take a second to glance over, you’re met with a slight scowl.

“Ugh, FINE.” You get into the left lane and slow down, waiting for the next exit to come up.

.

Fortunately for you two, there are plenty of places to stay in the little area you pull off into. Unfortunately, every place you call has no vacancies due to this time of year except for a dinky little motel way down the road. It wasn’t your first choice, and you had even offered to drive down to the next exit to find something else. Megumi points out the next exit wasn’t for another 30 miles, so the dinky little motel it was.

“If I get murdered in my sleep, I want you to know it was all your fault.” You mutter to Megumi as you rip open the office door, dripping wet from just a few seconds of being out in the pouring rain.

“You can stay in the car then. It’ll save you money.” He mumbles back quietly.

“Pft, whatever.” You turn your focus to the clerk sitting at the front desk, currently blowing bubbles with chewing gum and scrolling through her smartphone. She doesn’t look up.

“Uh- excuse me?” You call out. She still doesn’t acknowledge you or your friend.

Megumi goes up to the counter and slaps a hand down onto the linoleum covered counter. The clerk jumps up, eyes wide in shock. It takes a moment for her to register there are two customers waiting for her.

“Can I help you?” She says, her tone drenched with boredom.

“Yeah, two rooms please.” Megumi says, holding up two fingers – his ring and pinky.

“Let me see.” The clerk says. She puts her phone down to click around the computer in front of her. She types a few things in, clicks around, then flickers her eyes above the screen to the two of you.

“We only have one room left.” Her monotonous voice was really starting to grate at you.

“Does it at least have two beds?” You ask, annoyance slipping into your voice.

You’re met with a shrug and a pop of bubble gum. You take a step forward, feeling the heat of your frustration simmering. Megumi holds his arm out across your chest and holds you back.

“We’ll take it, thanks.” With that, Megumi pays for it and is handed the keys in turn.

“Check out is 11am. Thanks for staying with us, or whatever.” The lady says, waving her hands dismissively before going back to her phone. If you weren’t so drained, you would have thrown yourself over the counter at her. Maybe it was due to being so drained that you were thinking of doing something so feral. Instead, you take a deep breath and follow Megumi out the door.

The rain still comes down in sheets as you and Megumi rush to grab the bags from the trunk and book it up to the second floor where the room you were staying in lies. Much to your ever growing irritation, the motel in question is one of those that have the open walkways, only the guardrail and overhang serving as protection. Not like it matters anyways, because the rain starts blowing at an angle and pelts you in the face as you struggle to make it to the room.

Your boiling pot of anger threatens to spill over when you stumble into the room behind Megumi to find that there weren't two beds – in fact there was only one. The smallest queen you had ever seen. In the grimiest looking motel room you have ever seen. Dropping your bag to the floor, you groan in frustration.

“That lady sucks.” You rub your face with both hands, pulling your cheeks down and staring over to Megumi. He’s grabbing some extra blankets and a pillow from the storage closet by the bathroom. “What are you doing, ‘Gumi?”

“Getting my spot on the floor ready.” He mutters without looking over to you. After tossing the bedspread onto the floor, he heads to the bathroom. You bound over to him quickly, only to have the door shut in your face.

“Like hell you will. Take the bed, I’ll get the floor.” You shout over the hardwood. He doesn’t respond. Instead of being a normal person who would just wait over the by the bed, you slam your fists into the door.

“You’ve been driving all day. You deserve the bed more than me.” You hear him say, muffled. You stare at the faded, thin carpet under your feet. It’s a dark burgundy, littered randomly with even darker spots. Perhaps it had been a bright red at one point?

“That floor looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since the 90s. Why don’t we just…” You trail off as Megumi opens the door, coming face to face with you. He wasn’t expecting you to be so close. You notice he had changed into dry pajamas, though you’re not sure how he did it so quickly. Nor did you see him bring clothes in with him. You must be really tired.

“Why don’t we just what?” A black eyebrow raises at you in curiosity.

“..Just share the bed.” You mumble under your breath. Turning on your heel, you head over to the side of the bed closest to the wall.

“Do what?” Megumi follows you, frowning slightly. He hadn’t heard you.

“Share the bed.” You say louder, not looking his way. In all the years you both had been roommates, sharing a bed was something that had never come up. It wasn’t needed, for obvious reasons.

“I mean, if that’s okay with you.” He replies back coolly. Your eyes snap up to his, and notice he’s watching you anxiously despite his tone.

“We don’t have to. It was just a suggestion.” You raise your hands up in defense, puffing your cheeks out.

“No, I think it’s the smartest choice we have.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Postive?”

“Just go change into dry clothes, dummy.” He rolls his eyes and walks past to his side of the bed. You trill your lips as you push yourself off the bed and into the bathroom after grabbing a pair of pajamas out of your small bag.

You find yourself on your side facing the wall about 10 minutes later. Megumi is tucked under the covers behind you, facing the window you suspect. It’s quiet bar for the ticking of the analog clock on the wall above the tv by the front door. Before getting into bed, he had made sure to lock every lock available to him.

‘Triple reassurance.’ He had said.

You roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. That thought from earlier today about why you were so insistent on driving him surfaces to the top of your mind. You turn your head to where Megumi currently lies, his back to you confirming your assumption from before. His black hair pools around his pillow. You think you’re the only person who has ever seen his hair down from his normal spiky style.

“’Gumi?” You whisper over to him. You’re met with silence, which means he must have fallen asleep. Exhausted from the drive today, sleep comes to you just as easily. Your last thought before falling into pitch black nothingness is Megumi's stupidly cute smile.

.

When you wake, you don’t open your eyes right away. You can already tell the sun must be up by the way your eyelids tint pink. Your eyes flutter open and you blink hard a few times to reorient yourself. An ugly navy striped wallpaper glares back at you. Where were you?

You take a second to think. That’s right, you and Megumi had stopped at a motel last night to shelter from the storm for the evening. A small gust of air blows down your neck and it takes everything in you to not jump up and out of bed. Something cinches over your waist and pulls you close and your eyes widen. Wait, Megumi.

Carefully, you slide your hand down to what was around your waist and a breath hitches in your throat. It’s an arm, and not just any arm. It belongs to Megumi – solely based off the fact he was the only one in the bed with you.

By the depth of his breaths, you can tell he’s still sleeping. Good, you think to yourself. Maybe you can move his arm off you gently and not wake him. However, when you go to wrap your fingers around his wrist, he digs his face into your hair and sighs softly. He’s pulling you in closer too, and this is where you’re drawing the line.

“U-uh Megumi.” You say. Your voice is crackly with the lack of moisture.

His breathing steadies out, and suddenly you feel him stiffen up behind you. Slowly, he pulls away and the sadness that comes with the absence of his body heat hits faster than you would have cared to admit.

“S-Sorry.” He mutters behind you, his own voice thick with sleep.

“No, it’s okay.” You squeak out. Pulling yourself out of the covers, you grab your bag and practically run to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft click.

You don’t come out for another 30 minutes, deciding to take a quick shower to calm yourself down. A few mental arguments later, you feel you can face him. This needed to be talked about. You wanted to talk about it. You take a deep breath and throw the bathroom door open. When you walk out, however, you see Megumi dressed and ready to go by the door, his bag in hand.

“There you are. Ready to head out? If we leave now, we can make it for the rehearsal lunch.” He looks up from his phone that he must have been scrolling on while waiting.

“I-yeah. Megumi, listen-“ You stop with your mouth open, ready to say what you had rehearsed in the steamed up bathroom mirror. But nothing comes out. Instead, you pinch your lips together and give him a nod. “Yeah. Let’s go."

TBH I don't know of any other JJK moots. So if you see this and wanna be tagged in my next JJK fics, please comment to let me know?? Thank you! (I will tag @romantichomicide95 tho because I know she's a Megumi girly)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi #megumi x reader #megumi x gn!reader #megumi fushiguro x gn!reader #modern au #fluff #one bed #sky's summer event #ice cream order: pralines and cream with hot fudge

[stealingyourbones]

The whole tucker is a pharaoh thing - i thought maybe hawkman would recognize him? Idk a lot about hawkman/woman but im p sure one of their origin stories is that their the reincarnation of two ancient thanagarians that crash landed in ancient egypt and basically jump started human civilization? Maybe tucker was the one human that understood their tech the best when they tried to teach primitive humans and because of that, he became the first pharaoh after the golden age of the gods or something

Honestly at this point there's so many different Hawkman's origin stories that I will simply take your word for it. His entire backstory is so endlessly confusing. Is he Carter Hall? Cool so is it Carter or Karter? Is he actually called Carter Hall or is it just an alias? Is he Carter Hall Jr. who’s actually Fell Ander? Is he Hawkgod and the fusion of Hawkgirl, Carter Hall, and Karter Hall? Is he an alien or a human this time? Is it 9th or Nth metal this time? Who fuckin knows. There's more origins and heroes who carry the Hawkman title than members of the Batfamily istg.

Okokok so let’s just stick to the OG backstory: He’s an thanagarian who is reincarnated as the Egyptian Prince Kufu who got murdered via a cursed dagger and then continues from there. Dude is a brutal space cop that grew up on a war society planet. Dude is a cannon to aim and fire. He was kinda made as a way to go “let’s push the Green Arrow being a good liberal leaning guy” thing by having a completely opposite vibe.

He’s a space cop that is so hot headed and brutal dude that’s like a mix of Indiana Jones and Blue Lives Matter combo. (Indiana Jones is a tad odd but he was a museum curator so I think it’s pretty apt.) He’s so headstrong and fierce and even Batman is like “hey bro can u calm down the brutalness a tad?” He’s intentionally an unlikable character because he has all these memories and tragedies that he pushes everything away. (He also has a very toxic relationship with Hawkwoman but that would take far too long to get into but in summary: She has no memories of being Hawkwoman the two are literally destined to be together. Hawkman is a tad too obsessed with his lover and sometimes they meet and she is FAR too young for Hawkman.)

This is my interpretation of Hawkman since most of the comics I’ve read of him are silver age. I’m unsure how he is now but back then he was a full on sociopath who grew up on a war planet and is fully willing to kill.

Hawkman has to come to terms that everyone he loves will die and he will continue to exist. Imagine his pure delight to see a familiar person after years of only having Hawkwoman as a familiar companion.

(Black Adam also was a champion fighter for Prince Kufu so you could definitely mess around with Tucker knowing both)

I’d love that Tucker helps Prince Kufu and then proceeds to be the first pharaoh after the gods and just has a enemies to begrudging-respect relationship. This guy is just causing death and chaos and Tucker is just trying to live life. They keep meeting up and recognizing each other (mostly cause Carter never fuckin stops using the same name) and having petty squabbles. Tucker does his best to just piss off Hawkman at every possible opportunity. The League is very confused that this fucking child seems to know Hawkman and just RUTHLESSLY talks shit about him almost nonstop.

They do help each other though, they can relate to living far longer and seeing oh so many things that no human should ever see. They dispise each other but if it’s needed, they have the other’s back.

1, 2, 3

#bones replies #anon #dpxdc #danny phantom #lore rambles #dp x dc #dc #dc comics #tucker foley #writing prompts #prompts #dp x dc prompt #Hawkman #anon I know you didn’t ask for a rant about Hawkmans lore but my god I have so much so say about this trigger happy fuck #I cannot find that one panel where Hawkwoman just brandishes an Uzi directly at a bunch of cops after saying she can’t use her space weapons #but I think about it at least once every day

[texas-writes]

Stay With Me

Three weeks. That’s how long you have been traveling with Joseph Joestar and his companions to save his only child. It felt like an eternity and a fleeting moment at the same time.

It all started when you walked out of the small cafe near your campus to see two men dueling in the street, except one of them appeared to be a flaming bird. You watched in awe as the beings clashed, the inferno incapacitating the knight and allowing a third, much larger figure to approach.

Joseph had recognized you as a stand user from that moment, though you had no idea of your stand's existence at the time. You had recklessly accepted when Joseph had offered you a place in his group. Looking for an excuse to get away from university for just a moment.

The quest you had joined in on seemed simple enough. If you were a fairy tale hero, that was. This old man had to be crazy, there was no way he was serious about his (im)mortal enemy being a fucking vampire. But alas, you still followed, because at least if you died it would be kinda hot. Hopefully this vampire fella looked like Tom Cruise. You laugh to yourself at the thought.

The first few stops on your journey, Joseph insisted that you have the room to yourself, save for the ugly ass dog he kept with him for some reason. You sit in your bed, flipping through a book of TIME’s most influential photos, pausing to ponder the events that led up to the one you were currently looking at.

As you think, a flash of purple catches your attention, drawing your eyes away before it disappears as quickly as it came. You shrug it off and go back to reading.

You saw purple again, fleeting, darting back and forth around the room before it stopped at the foot of your bed. You looked up and were met with the source of the movement that had been vexing you all day. It was the massive humanoid creature from before, it’s eyes meeting yours, despite the fact that it was crouching before you. It had long hair flowing all around it, a swirl of galaxies crowning its giant head. Almost like a halo.

“Who are you,” you whisper, cautiously crawling towards it. “Are you even real?”

It gives you a confused expression, letting out a soft “Ora?”

It was absolutely still aside from its flowing hair, but every aspect of the creature seemed relaxed. It wasn’t looking to harm you, or even approach you, so you approached it instead. You sit with your legs crossed on the edge of the bed and reach out towards it, trying to touch its face, but your hand just passes right through it.

You pull away even more confused than before. Were you dreaming? You could have sworn you were awake.

Then the creature reaches into you, and you feel it gripping something inside your chest. My god is it going to kill me? You think, fear taking over your body and you try to back away. The beast’s other hand reaches up and strokes your hair, very much there and very much real.

While you’re distracted by the foreign touch, it pulls its hand out of you, holding a black kitten by the scruff of its neck. It mewls and the creature pulls it towards it, cradling the cat in its arms. The cat starts to purr as the thing strokes it’s head and you feel it reverberating in your chest.

What the fuck was going on. Before you had time to think anymore, you laid down and forced yourself to go to sleep.

You were silent at breakfast the next morning, prompting Joseph to ask what happened to the talkative girl he had met the previous day.

You explained your strange dream to him and he nodded, before telling you the most absolute old man bullshit you had ever heard. There was no way that pathetic little cat was your fighting spirit.

You laughed and told him he was full of it. He countered by telling you to bring it out so they could all see it. You laughed again and said you couldn’t. He gave up almost too easily after that, muttering something about it’ll come out when it matters.

The second night you traveled with your new companions, once again staying with just the dog, the creature appeared to you again.

This time it’s not as friendly as it was before. Before you can even truly acknowledge it, you’re being attacked, it’s dragging you backwards from your chair, a large hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing. You feel like your eyes are going to pop out as you claw helplessly at your attacker, looking to Iggy to find him fast asleep.

A growl rips from the air beside you and the hand retreats almost as quickly as it appeared. You turn your chair to the large purple beast crouching down beside a panther, petting it’s head and making soft Oras in response to its purring. You feel the feedback of the pets in your hair and look to it for answers.

The being simply gives you an apologetic look, and reaches its free hand towards you. You cautiously take it. The creature brings the back of your hand to its lips, kissing it softly and giving you a small smile before returning its full attention to the panther.

A knock at the door draws you from your confusion and you answer it. It’s Jotaro. He pushes his way past you, kicking off his shoes and sitting on your bed, pulling a comic book from his coat and flipping to the dog eared page. “The old man told me to keep an eye on you,” he grumbles, flipping his hat and producing a cigarette, placing it between his lips and lights it.

“Well hello to you too. Do you have another one of those?”

“Smoking’s bad for you, you know,” Jotaro grumbles tossing his pack of smokes your way.

“Whatever.” You light one up and return once again to your book on the desk.

“Well, since you’re apparently a stand user, the worlds gonna be out to get you, and someone has to keep you alive, the old man will be upset if you die. Says he sees potential, and it looks like your stand’s not completely useless after all. It had no problem tearing at Star Platinum. Hurt like a bitch. Star seems to see it as a pet though, which is unfortunate. He’ll probably try to get a rise out of you more, now he knows it’ll make his friend appear.”

So that was Jotaro’s stand. Intretesting.

“I thought Joseph said that stand users had full control of their stands?”

“Star Platinum has a mind of his own. It’s probably why he’s been tormenting you for two days. He’s just curious. I can always pull him back if I want to, but as long as he’s not hurting anything, I don’t really care.”

“Maybe you should keep him from watching me sleep then. It’s kinda nerve wracking,” You chuckle.

Jotaro just grunts and gets up, moving to the other bed, picking Iggy up and tossing him on the floor. The dog grumbles in its sleep, but barely reacts more than that.

You sigh, stretching and getting up from your chair to flop down in the significantly more comfortable bed. “So, Jotaro, tell me about yourself,” you prompt, trying to get to know the reserved boy better.

“I’m Joseph’s grandson and my mom’s dying.”

“Surely there’s more.”

“Do you want to know my whole life story or something? Fuck.”

“Sorry, just trying to make conversation.”

Jotaro sighs and takes his cap off, running his fingers through his silky black hair. “Look, I’m not great with conversations, okay. I’m not trying to be a dick. You didn’t have to join us.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t trying to pry.”

He chuckles and looks towards you. “Actually I think you’re the first girl that’s made an effort to get to know me.”

Oh. Oh! How did a handsome guy like himself have- “no girlfriend?”

“Never.”

“Surprising.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re not unattractive.”

“I know.”

Ah. There it was.

“I see.”

“I know I sound shallow, but I’m not. I just know people find me attractive because they make it so clear. They just want my appearance, they don’t want me.”

“So you’re saying you’re into blind girls?”

Jotaro chuckles and leans back against the headboard, blowing out a stream of smoke. “You’re funny. I think we could be friends.”

“Yeah,” you say, turning the remaining lamp off and rolling over. “Me too.”

The next couple weeks are a constant frenzy of fighting for your life, bringing you closer to your new companions both out of necessity and dedication to each other. You now spent most of your time with Jotaro and Kakyoin, mostly because they were the closest to you in age. Kakyoin was a year younger and Jotaro was just five months your junior, he was still in high school only because his birthday fell at an odd time for the school calendar.

You had grown quite fond of each other during your time together, spending what little free time you had together, trying to get some enjoyment out of the trip, be it grabbing lunch or just doing different things in the same room.

When all was said and done, and the battle won you found yourself in a hotel room overlooking the Valley of Kings. There were just four of you left now, the Stardust Crusaders were nothing more than a quartet of broken people whose lives would never really be the same as they were before.

Joseph and Polnareff were just across the hall, and when you stepped out of your room to use the toilet you could hear shot glasses clinking together and slamming onto the table, but there were no celebratory words being exchanged, the men were drinking to get drunk. To forget.

When you returned to your room you found Jotaro on the balcony, leaning on the railing and smoking a cigarette. He had dropped his coat and hat in the corner chair when he had entered the room and while you were gone he had stripped off his blood soaked shirt, revealing all the wounds Dio had inflicted on him.

Without thinking you come up and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his back. He stiffens for a second and then relaxes into your touch, letting out a sigh.

“I’m glad you made it,” he states suddenly, his chest rumbling with his deep voice.

“Me too, I guess.”

Jotaro pulls himself out of your arms and turns to face you. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow night.”

He sighs and tosses his cigarette butt off the balcony. He blinks slowly and rolls his shoulders a few times. “I’m really glad you made it.”

You’re completely unable to read him, not that it was easy before, but now, you couldn’t even begin to place what was on his mind. So much had happened in the last twenty four hours. Your friends had died for God’s sake.

It confuses you even more when Jotaro reaches up and cups your face with his massive hand. Before you can think, he leans down and places a clumsy kiss against your lips before pulling away quickly.

“I shouldn’t have done that, should I?”

“Actually I think you should do it again.”

He leans down again and this time you meet him halfway, closing the gap between you. His lips fumble against yours as he struggles to figure out what you’re doing.

You pull away and look up at him. “Never kissed before?”

“Once, but I was like eleven.”

You giggle and pull him towards you again, this time taking the lead and guiding him through it. You’re laughing when you pull away and he looks genuinely disheartened.

“What? Am I bad?”

“No, I’m just glad you finally decided to make a move.”

He just stares at you like you have two heads.

“I’ve only been flirting with you for the whole trip.”

“I thought you were just being nice.”

You chuckle and pull him into another kiss. Leave it to Jotaro to be completely oblivious to something like that.

“I liked that,” he murmurs, reaching out to take your hand. “A lot.” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too. I’m sorry I have to leave.”

“I understand. You have a life to get back to, and we can’t linger here too long anyways.”

“I wish…”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You wish what?”

“I just wish things had come out better in the end.”

“Me too,” he sighs, and turns leaving you on the balcony to finish your cigarette.

When you do, you follow him inside, leaving the door open behind you.

“Jojo,” you call, reaching out towards him. He turns to face you and you take his hand, pulling him towards you and pushing your lips to his again.

He hums in surprise and melts into the kiss, leading you backwards further into the room. You fall back into the bed and pull him with you by his shoulders, keeping your lips against his the whole way down.

He moans and laces his fingers with yours, pinning your hand above your head, using his free hand to support himself.

This was the first time you had seen Jotaro shirtless the entire time you had traveled together, and even shared rooms and it was, comforting, to know that he now trusted you enough to show off a little. You let out a pleased giggle and spread your legs to allow Jojo to slot himself between them.

You roll your hips against his, earning a groan from him. He releases your hand and moves to run his fingers down your side, dipping under your shirt and trailing back up.

Your hands go to his waist, looping your fingers in his belt loops and guiding his hips against yours.

“I love you so much,” he whispers, bumping his forehead against yours.

You’re taken aback by his words, breathing his name and pushing him away from you.

Jotaro worries that he’s done something wrong before you get up and push him to sit on the other bed and kneel before him, running your hands up his thighs, letting them come to a rest on his hips.

“I love you too, Jojo,” you hum, resting your head on his massive thigh. He watches you, astounded as you reach up to unbutton his pants and push them down enough to free his cock. “Do you want this,” you ask looking up at him.

“Yeah. I do.”

You nod and lick his tip, making him shiver at the sensation. He brings his hands to rest in your hair, gently tugging as you work your mouth over him, taking him in bit by bit.

“God, fuck that feels good,” he whines, bringing a hand to cup your cheek “Please don’t stop.”

He bucks his hips, making you gag and you pull away. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, reaching to help you up.

“It’s alright, it happens,” you hum.

In an instant he’s scooped you up into his arms, tossing you back onto the other bed and climbing on top of you. He unbuttons your pants and slides his hand down the front of your panties, dipping a finger between your folds, making you shiver. You work to slip your pants off to make what he’s doing easier. “God, Jotaro, just come here already,” you whine, trying to push his pants down his hips. Jotaro pulls away, just long enough to kick his pants off, fully exposing himself to you. He returns to his position above you, this time joining you on the bed. You prop yourself up and remove your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra, but you’ll leave that for him to take off.

“I uh, I’ve never done this,” he tells you, tracing his finger up and down your torso.

“That’s alright. I don’t mind. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

He nods in response and leans in to kiss you again, sighing as you reach between your bodies and guide him to your entrance. His hands linger on the band of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

You nod and arch your back to allow him to unclasp it and pull it off, tossing it haphazardly behind him. He pushes his hips forwards, finally sinking into you and you groan, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down towards you and locking his lips in a kiss.

It’s slow and it’s sweet and when it’s all over Jotaro rolls off of you and pulls your back into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly, like he never wants to let go, pressing kisses to the back of your neck. “I love you,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair.

“I love you too,” you mumble, drifting off to sleep in your shared room, a cool breeze blowing in from the open balcony door.

When Jotaro awoke you were already gone, the sun warming his face, though the bed was cold. He rolls over, finding a note on your pillow. The four words pulled at his heartstrings. A simple ‘I’ll find you again’ was all it took to make him break down in silent tears.

“Honey? What’s wrong?”

Your mother’s voice draws you from your thoughts and back to the dinner table. You had returned to your hometown directly from Egypt, since it was already time for fall break.

“Yeah, I’m alright mom, I just had a long semester. Being away from home for so long was stressful.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re home.”

“Yeah…,” you hum, poking at your food, the ketchup seeping from your burger suddenly looks like blood, and you choke back a sob.

“Y/N, seriously, what’s wrong. You’re different.”

You sigh and lean back in your chair. “I just had a… fling, I guess, when I was in Hong Kong. It was hard to leave him.”

“Oh, that’s…understandable. Whirlwind love is hard to let go of. Maybe you’ll see him again one day.”

“Maybe.”

#jotaro x y/n #jotaro x reader #jjba #stardust crusaders #smut #fluff #angst #jojos bizarre adventure

[lemmilemura]

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS REQUEST PLZ, ok so the reader a huge crush on simon right? but theyre not friends at all, like they’ve never met eachother other than having a few classes together and stuff (he hasn’t even posted about them on AT). BUT (since the reader is like so obsessed or whatever) the reader like, hacks into about that somehow, and they and simon meet and talk to eachother IN THE CODE OF THE APP. I THINK IT WOULD BE SO CUTE

im ngl ive had this idea for so long, theres a lot of plot holes in the req so you can do whatever to it, but plz keep the talking in the code of the app thing in it because i think it’s adorable 😭

Oh my fucking god that is genious!!! I absolutely love that idea! Thank you, omg, I'm full of energy again to write this, I never even thought of this!!! I missed you, pine-ferret, I really have.

All kept gender-neutral Based on the show

3am. Pitch black. The only light was coming from my computer screen. It was giving off a green glow into the room. It came from the fake hacking website I had open on my second monitor. Actual hacking doesn't do all that fancy stuff. Atleast not the hacking I was currently doing. My only companion, my only energy came in the form of Lipton Ice Tea. My motivation was what was behind that wall of code. It was grueling. It was terrible. It took hours. But I persevered. I powered through. I used all of my skills trying to get in. Trying to achieve my goal.

What was that goal you ask? A simple one. One that, if you think about it, could have been solved much faster and easier, if I had more confidence and didn't have a panic attack every time I thjought of it.

My goal was to talk to Simon Kelleher.

I know, you don't have to point it out. Look, my severe social anxiety and also him not having a single idea who I was kinda kept me from talking to him. How do I know he doesn't know I exist? I have never been mention in AT. Not even once. And he's mentioned EVERYONE. Except for his friends, of course.

Hacking into AT was much harder than anywhere I'd hacked into before. "He set this up good... But nothing I didn't expect from him..." I mean of course he'd protect it well, if anyone got in there, it could spell disaster. Luckily, I wasn't planning on using it for anything nefarious. Only on the conquest of admiration.

I got really close to cracking it, I could feel it. Only a few more lines and I'd be in. "Seems like it's 1-0 for me, Kelleher. In, ya know, hacking and keeping your website un-hackable. In most other areas you definitely have way more points than me." I said to myself as I felt success get closer and closer.

But as always when I thought something would go my way, it did a U-turn.

Anarchi$k: Nice try.

"What the fuck. Wait, okay, okay, this is my big chance. This must be Simon. Stay calm, you got this."

(Username): Oh you haven't won yet.

Anarchi$k: Suuuuure. Now gtfo

(Username): Rude much.

I was then 'kicked out' of the code. But all he did was just send me a few steps back. Luckily, I had a habit of writing down every step that worked. So it only took a few seconds for me to geth where I was.

(Username): Hello again.

Anarchi$k: How tf

Anarchi$k: How did you do that?

(Username): A magician never reveals their tricks.

(Username): Now lemme get past, I'm almost in.

Anarchi$k: Not if I can stop you.

(Username): You just failed.

"Aaaaand kicked again. Alright, gotta work a lil faster then." This time, I managed to get further, only one password stood between me and having access to all of AT. That and Anarchi$k, aka Simon, of course.

Anarchi$k: Could you not?

Anarchi$k: Kicking you out is getting tedious.

(Username): Then stop kicking me?

(Username): Think on the bright side, now you know what you need to reinforce!

Anarchi$k: Good luck getting further.

Anarchi$k: You'll need it

(Username): Awwwww, thanks.

I wasn't kicked, but I could imagine why. There was no hint whatsoever to what the password could be. I'd probably not have multiple tries, either. "You can do this. and if not, hey, he knows you exist! Kinda. Not really..." I shook my head and then got to thinking. I knew almost nothing about him, so there was no way I'd ever get it.

(Username): Can I get a hint?

Anarki$k: Wtf no

(Username): Cmoooooon

(Username): I doubt anyone before has gotten this far

(Username): I deserve this

Anarchi$k: I don't even know who you are.

(Username): I know you

Anarchi$k: Everyone knows me

Anarchi$k: Because of what you're trying to get into.

(Username): Even if I told you my name

(Username): You wouldn't know who I am

Anarchi$k: Try me

(Username): Password first, Kelleher

(Username): :)

For a while nothing came. "Of course he wouldn't just give me it."

Anarchi$k: If you're still at it in like

Anarchi$k: A day

Anarchi$k: And haven't given up

Anarchi$k: I'll think about it

(Username): Yeeeah I don't believe you

(Username): I'll get this password

(Username): One way or another

(Username): But thanks for the offer

I ended up falling asleep after about half an hour of thinking. It was 4am, okay? School kicked my ass the next morning. I couldn't focus because I kept thinking about that stupid password. I only had 2 classes with Simon but he never said much in any of them, plus he sat behind me in both, so I couldn't even look at his desk or anything.

At lunch, I only nibbled at my food, while scribbling various ideas and getting frustrated. "If only I knew him better. Maybe this would be easier." My apple was only half gone, and there were only 30 minutes of lunch left. "You look like you could use some help." I looked at the voice suddenly next to me. "You're, Maeve, right? Maeve Rojas?" She sits next to me, with her tray of food. "Yep. It's okay if I sit here, right?" "You're not sitting with your sister?" "We have different lunches."

That was a first for many reasons. I never had anyone wanting to sit next to me. I'd never talked to Maeve before. I'd seen her a handful of times with Simon and Janae. "What are you struggling with?" She asked as she leaned over. "Just some code. A... friend of mine forgot their passcode and has no idea what it was." "Well, any ideas?" The two of us spent the rest of lunch trying to figure out what the passcode was, and she never found out it was to AT.

I got back to it as soon as I got home. I was determined to figure it out without Simon's hint. I workshopped a little more on what me and Maeve worked on.

Anarchi$k: Wait you're actually here again?

(Username): Did ya miss me?

Anarchi$k: Ya wish

(Username): I wish to get into AT

Anarchi$k: Do I look like a Genie to you?

(Username): A Genie-ous

Anarchi$k: Oh my fucking god

(Username): Does flattery get me a free entry pass?

Anarchi$k: It gets you nowhere

(Username): Oh cmoooooonnnn

(Username): Just let me in!

Anarchi$k: I told you

Anarchi$k: 24 hours

Anarchi$k: You've got 12 left

(Username): Ugh

(Username): Party pooper

"C'mon brain, think of things. C'mon brain, be so smart." I repeated to myself an amount of times I do not know. I brainstormed all the way through dinner, and way into the night.

"I only have one hour left. Either I could just give up and wait for the hint. Or I could crack this and be amazing and impress him..." the latter was the one I really wanted, but I knew it was very very unrealistic.

Anarchi$k: 30 minutes buddy

Anarchi$k: Or do you already give up?

(Username): I never give up

(Username): i never let down

(Username): I never run around or desert

Anarchi$k: okay for that you only get 15 minutes left

(Username): WTF why?

Anarchi$k: you fucking rickrolled me wtf did you think was gonna happen?

(Username): you'd find the joke so hilarious and give me the code and then we fall helplessly in love and live out our days only communicating in code?

Anarchi$k: wow

Anarchi$k: yeah that's not gonna happen

(Username): worth a try

Anarchi$k: why do you want to get in so badly anyway?

Anarchi$k: I mean I know why but goddamn just give up already

(Username): wow you must be braindead

(Username): I just told you, dumbass

Omg I actually just said that. Maybe it was the fact that he had no idea it was me that was giving me that confidence. God knows I would never be able to get a single word out if we were actually face to face.

Anarchi$k: you must be so desperate and deprived of attention if you come to me of all people

(Username): you do realize that backfired, right?

Anarchi$k: I am very well aware

(Username): you should like

(Username: idk

(Username): be happy that there's someone who like you

(Username): and stuff

Anarchi$k: oh I'm very flattered

Anarchi$k: but still

Anarchi$k: like wtf

Anarchi$k: also back to the I don't fucking know you part

(Username): If I told you who I am

(Username): 1 it would ruin this great little 'game'

(Username): and 2 you'd still not know who I am cuz you don't know me

Anarchi$k: oh how fun

Anarchi$k: I get to experience having a stalker

(Username): it's not like that dumbass

(Username): ok what I can say is I also go to Bayview

Anarchi$k: narrows it only a small bit

Anarchi$k: and if you think that stops the stalker thing it doesn't

(Username): welp, I tried

Anarchi$k: and I succeeded

Anarchi$k: time's up, buddy

Anarchi$k: any final words before I send you back out?

Anarchi$k: I've changed pretty much eveything btw

I felt like at this point I only had two options.

1. Take the loss and lose all my progress, and this is where it all ends

2. Tell him who I am and it ends too

And I kid you not I blacked out while typing what I typed because I do not remember a single thing.

(Username): my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). We have a couple classes together. You sit behind me in them.

I only came back to consciousness after it was sent. I then cursed myself and curled up in a ball on my chair. Goodybe and chance to ever succeed. Goodbye future I'd dreamed of. Goodbye happiness.

I'd started crying a little too. Then I heard a sound. I looked up.

"What the fuck" I was greeted by the Admin panel of AT. Full access to everything.

Anarchi$k: not a lot of people would be willing to admit that

Anarchi$k: you got balls, (Username)

Anarchi$k: also I knew it was you the entire time lol

WHAT.

(Username): what

Anarchi$k: yeah I see you sometimes

Anarchi$k: you gotta work on the staring

Anarchi$k: also Maeve told me she helped you with a passcode during lunch

Anarchi$k: so yeah

(Username):...

(Username): I

I was speechless. Somehow, this was worse. Much worse.

Anarchi$k: I gave you access because I could use the help

Anarchi$k: of someone who knows their way around code

Anarchi$k: no offense to Janae and Maeve but they're not smart enough for this stuff

(Username): I

(Username): okay

(Username): I guess

(Username): this is going to be so awkward

(Username): just warning ya

Anarchi$k: oh I'm sure we'll be just peachy

Anarchi$k: also feel free to stuck around us at school

Anarchi$k: if your poor little heart can handle that

Anarchi$k: ;)

(Username): or my reputation rather

Anarchi$k: you're invisble

Anarchi$k: there's no reputation to break

Okay I know that ending was kinda meh but I do not know how to go on I hope you still like it qwq

#one of us is lying #oouil #simon kelleher #oouil tv show #oneshot

[futchgunk]

Bladders Gat3 Finish doc

:et me get the rest of my fucking feelings out about baldurs gate:

im so mad bc any character who is not human or realism/white passoid is literally regarded with the same type of dismissal that you would see in mainstream media. all the companions that are not white passing are treated like shit and have bad ends.

-Lae'zel (gith) gets abducted by the a bad guy for the last 1/3 of the game (also we could talk about her being the fighter class as default is also a bit racist, but the deep dive will be its own essay). and then she can die and not be able to be resurrected. (resurrection scrolls and revivify spells ONLY work on companions and not npcs)

Wyll (THE ONLY BLACK HUMAN MAIN CHARACTER, side note we could talk about how is name is spelled like a white mormon names their kids) is a big talking point bc he is constantly strung between the expectations put upon him by himself, his family, and then his pact matron. AND NO MATTER WHAT OPTION IS CHOSEN WILL CONTINUES TO SUFFER IN THIS EXECUTIVE PURGATORY. He starts as a "i have to kill this devil" actually its a tiefling (suddenly its now fantasy racial infighting, so of course u dont wanna kill another companion so early in the game, so Wyll is forced through Hell's Circles and the exposure makes him grown large demonic horns. (Wyll does not have control over his body or himself, nor his actions, and only suffers the consequences of the actions of the Tav (PC)). Wyll even gets to have the "I did everything for my father's (approval just to have my father misunderstand me and then the most noble course of action is to be independent because i am still bound by choices prior and also if two black people form any sort of family on screen its disgusting and blasphemous so I might as well treat my father like my brother who i never was able to relate to when i was younger" THIS IS NOT MENTIONING THAT WYLL IS LITERALLY THE SON OF THE DUKE OF BALDURS GATE. HE GIVES UP HIS STATUS OF NOBILITY TO BE HEROIC AND IS JUST FOREVER CONTINUALLY PUNISHED. THE DUKE OF BALDURS GATE IS BRAINWASHED TO RELINQUISHING HIS TITLE AND CORONATES THE WHITE DEVIL EVIL DICK BAD GUY WHO SOLD KARLACH (TIEFLING) TO HELL FOR GIGGLES.

Karlach (tiefling) is a bright eyed noble hearted character that is looking for solace after having 10 years of her life taken from her when she got sold to devil and hell and made a war machine slave because thats perfectly tragic. Her heart is taken from her and replaced with an engine (machine) that is slowly killing her when she is not in Hell. THE ENGINE DOESNT EVEN HAVE A GOOD IN GAME MECHANIC, YOU GET TO SET URSELF ON FIRE TO GET A 'HEAT' DEBUFF THAT U CAN CONSUME ON AN ATTACK, you build heat any other way, so its like only <Lv. 4, and if you minmaxed the opening scene, you get a 2h sword that does this every attack, so like its a bit moot and useless. Furthermore i think its really stupid that shes yearning for companionship and yet is not allowed because her engine makes her to hot to touch. Which rubs me the wrong way as a black transfem (u could argue tiefling coded) because I already feel like that. I feel like im too intense and hot with my passions and i intimidate people to the point that I'm actively denying myself the intimacy i crave so dearly just by existing and expressing myself. The taxation of life shouldn't really exist in video games!! The whole party gets mind enslaving brainworms that magically dont work because the plot armor is really strong yet the demon character who EVEN WHEN THEY SEEK HELP IN THEIR COMPANION QUEST ARE DENIED THE REALITY OF LIVING COMFORTABLY BECAUSE THEY SHOULD ONLY EXIST IN HELL. (cried actually). Before the last of this mess, she offers to turn into a mindflayer just to give herself the peace that she could be the hero that saves the world (become the villain because its better than who you currently exist as, or die being yourself (who has LITERALLY BEEN DEMONIZED). Karlach doesn't get to have have a happy ending because she either dies from engine overdose or goes to hell just to fucking breathe. THE KICKER IS THAT WYLL, THE PERSON WHO WAS GOING TO KILL HER AS PART OF THE WARLOCK PACT, OFFERS TO ACCOMPANY HER IN HELL AND FIGHT BY HER SIDE. WHICH MEANS THAT ALL OF THE MARGINALIZED IDENTITIES EFFECTIVELY FUCK OFF AFTER YOU SAVE THE WORLD.

White victim Shadowheart has the option of rejecting what she knows (which was a lie told her) or believing it. The worst she has to do is kill a bound seraphim, and free her parents held captive by putting their souls to rest (she turns them into light, killing them). She gets sick weapons. Clerics are busted anyway.

White devil astarion got to ascend in pale supremacy and got cool vampire powers (bite+, bite++, buff on kill, and consume buff for heal || next hit crits). The final battle WAS BUGGED FOR ME. I WAS STUCK ON THE BOSS FIGHT FOR TWO WEEKS BECAUSE THE END OF BATTLE SCREEN WOULDNT LOAD. LIKE I MADE A WHOLE NOTHER CHARACTER BECAUSE I BEAT THE BOSS 7 TIMES AND MY BUGFIXED DIDNT WORK!!

if im gonna get so heated about video games i am just gonna go play bloodborne so i have no room to complain bc im constantly sucking

#dont play baldurs gate 3 #fantasy racism #buggirl is ticked off #::::( #-> #>::::(

[mslanna]

Nooo it's completely fine if you dont write things you don't like or simply don't want im sorry I didn't want to come of as rude or pressuring

But since its ok to share ideas with you how about this:

You know the night where mizora comes to punish wyll and tav decides to just attack her because they care too much for their companions. And I'd guess that mizora is quiet powerful since she's a devil so before mizora strikes tav down, raphael just pops up and protects tav by letting mizora punish wyll and holding tav down so that they don't get hurt by mizora.

I'd actually like it more if raphael just destroys the contract and kills mizora but since he himself is a devil and he doesn't have the crown yet he has to hold back. That's why tav is so mad at him that he promises her that he will make her pay and then he hugs tav and reassurs them that he'll take care of it and perhaps tavs so frustrated of the fact that raphael just held them down so that at first their too angry with him to talk

Sjskskksiaja sorry for dumping this idea on you and I hope it's understandable since English isn't my first language haha

Have a nice day 🌻

I think I mangled the promt somewhat, @shyminnie07 . here's hoping you still like it. 😅

Paying Forward on AO3

When Mizora comes to punish Wyll for letting Karlach live, Tav intervenes. It doesn't go well and they need (and get) a little help from another cambion…

Camp was quiet and Tav watched the fire burn down. They forced their thoughts to follow suit, slowing and mellowing. The last days had been a whirlwind with nary a moment to breathe. Now, with their new friends retreating for the night, the evening stilled and a cool wind brushed over Tav's burning mind soothingly.

They tried not to think about what lay ahead. Tomorrow came anyway. Better to make use of the break while they could. The moment felt like a drop of quiet sandwiched in between two maelstroms.

"Oh no." Wyll's voice came from across camp. "She's coming."

His worried tone urged Tav into action. They grabbed their gear and hurried towards their companion. "Who is coming?" They snapped the last bits of armour into place. "What is happening?"

"My patron," Wyll replied and took hold of Tav's arm. "She won't be happy we spared Karlach."

"She can't have her." Tav's grip tightened around their war hammer. "Or you. She'll have to go through me."

"She's a devil, Tav! Don't get yourself killed on my behalf."

Tav didn't say that getting killed in the line of duty sounded pretty sweet. They'd have done their part and died blameless. Compared to the mess of life, it didn't sound like a bad deal. But before Tav managed to say something stupid, the oily blackness announcing hellfire pooled on the ground before them. Fire shot up and revealed the shapely form of a female devil. Uh oh.

Don't get distracted! Tav told themself to a little avail. The devil knew she was gorgeous and accented all her best features accordingly. Not getting distracted was a quest unto itself and one Tav felt themself losing.

"Wyll," the devil purred in a tone Tav felt not only in their bones. "You've been naughty. And you know what happens when you're naughty."

"And who the fuck are you?" Tav asked just before remembering Wyll said the devil was his patron. Well, patron wasn't a name.

"Call me Mizora," she answered, the disdain for Tav's crude choice of words audible. "I'm Wyll's patron, the fount of his power. My pet's been unruly. And his leash needs a yank."

The devil stretched out a hand, pulled at the air and Wyll stumbled forward as if an actual leash held him around his neck.

"Leave him be!" Tav stepped between the two and felt the invisible leash cut through their chest.

"Wyll and I had a deal." Mizora scanned Tav dismissively. "But Karlach is still breathing."

"You told me devil's only," Wyll spoke up. "She's a tiefling. Not a monster."

"How precious." The devil was unimpressed. "The little pupster's found its bark. Clause G, Section Nine: 'Targets shall be limited to the infernal, the demonic, the heartless and the soulless.' Karlach meets the criteria, pet. Trust me on this."

"I said, leave him alone," Tav repeated and readied their weapon.

"He broke his contract. I am not at fault here."

"Your wording is vague." Tav held their position. "You could have been lenient, but chose not to. I take offence to that."

"And what do you plan to do?" Cold, calculating eyes settled on Tav.

"Wyll won't have to worry about his contract if there is no devil he's beholden to."

"Don't be a fool. What do you think will happen to his powers?" Mizora laughed.

"Wyll is more than his powers," Tav spat. "And he can find a new patron should he want one."

"After you attacked me for not liking the terms of his current contract?" The devil scoffed. "I think not."

But Tav thought back to the devil they met, almost eager to to excite them into a deal. And from the corner of their eye, the paladin spotted the small shadow of Raphael's warlock lurking in the night just outside the camp again. He had his eyes on them. He was an option. Tav shifted their weight back, weighing the war hammer in their hands.

"Tav!" Wyll cautioned, but to no avail.

"Get out of my camp." Tav raised their war hammer. "Now!"

When Mizora failed to leave, the paladin surged forwards and the head of their heavy war hammer connected hard with the devil's soft waist. It was a shame to maul such an exquisite body, but nobody messed with Tav's new friends. Only friends. New friends. Nobody!

Mizora staggered and Tav struck again, cutting across her legs at knee height. A nauseating crunch echoed through the camp. But whatever Tav hit didn't slow Mizora down the least. The devil came at them with incredible speed and a slap of energy stopped Tav in their tracks. Mizora's hand came down and though Tav ducked a way, one of the nails left a long red line down their face.

That couldn't stop them. Tav realigned to their target but Mizora wasn't there any longer. Tav blinked and readjusted their grip on their weapon. A glance at Wyll and Karlach ascertained the devil wasn't bothering them. Despite everything, Tav hoped they scared her away.

But no such luck. After a minute, Mizora returned, looking no worse for wear. "Are you really going to do this?"

Tav didn't bother with an answer and threw themself at the devil again. Just before their hammer connected to infernal flesh, Mizora vanished again. Something whacked Tav on the back of their head and sent them stumbling to the ground. The paladin picked themself up once more, looking for the elusive devil.

As before, Mizora appeared again momentarily. This went on for a while and Tav grew tired and annoyed. Every time Mizora vanished, she added injury to insult, slowly grinding Tav down.

If she had stayed vanished, Tav would have relented, but Mizora kept popping back, ogling Wyll who tried without success to talk Tav down. Not that a little bleeding, scrapes and bruises could top them. Tav was determined to protect their friends.

"Do stop," Mizora sighed after appearing to Tav still leaning heavily on their weapon. Dusts and dirt coated the human's hair and armour. It mixed with blood on their skin. "You cannot win this fight and I am losing interest."

"I will stop when you stay away," Tav ground out. "Leave my friends alone."

"Such misplaced loyalty. An admirable trait, no doubt. But I do not have time for this." Mizora pointed at Tav and laid a full fire ray on them.

Tav stumbled under the onslaught. Most of the heat bounced off the armour but the metal turned uncomfortably hot. They almost dropped their hammer as they pressed on to reach the devil. Mizora languidly repeated her attack. This time, it sent the human sprawling.

Though Tav again deflected most of the fire ray, their shoulder bristled with the heat and their face was singed. They stumbled and got mowed down by a ferocious sweep from the devil. Tav's skin blistered and broke as they skittered over the rough ground. They spat out dirt and blood before propping themself up, ready to return to the fight whatever the cost.

But somebody stepped between them and their target, towering and with wings that obscure Tav's sight. Unthinking, Tav clawed at the newcomer with a low growl.

"Now, now. None of that," came a familiar voice. Tav looked up and found Raphael's black-hole gaze levelled onto them. "Where are you manners?"

"She came into my camp and wants to hurt my friends." Tav struggled to stand. "Over my dead body."

"Yes," Raphael drew the word out into a complete lecture. "Unfortunately, you body is still needed alive."

His arm snapped out before the Tav when the paladin made for Mizora again. They crashed into it, surprised by its unyielding strength.

"How good to see somebody with actual decorum in this – derelict place." Mizora put herself back into order with a curt gesture. "This was all rather tedious."

"I won't let her hurt Wyll," Tav insisted.

"And who are you to decide that?" The devil spread her wings in a subtle threat.

"We can certainly find a solution that involves a minimum of bloodshed," Raphael intervened.

"If it is her blood, maximum is also acceptable," Tav hissed.

Raphael wrapped a wing around the angry human, trapping them in place. "Come, little mouse, calm down. We can settle this like civilised people."

The devils exchanged looks over Tav's head.

"Of course," Mizora agreed with a greedy glint in her eyes. "Wyll, today is your lucky day. Come here pet."

Wyll approached warily until he stood before his patron.

"You know I can't let this slip. But luck intervened on your behalf to let you off lightly." She gestured along her client's body who winced as if a large hand had suddenly taken hold of himand squeezed tightly. Horns sprouted from his head accompanied with the prominent ridges of devils.

"There we are." Mizora turned to Tav. "No pain, just punishment."

Wyll patted down his now features, shock etched over his face. "What have you done?"

"A promise broken, a Price paid. You know the terms," Mizora replied carelessly. "Get used to the new form, pet – there's no going back. Some magic, even I can't undo. Oh, and Wyll? Don't forget. Our pact still stands."

With that she turned to Raphael. "It has been so good to see you again." Each word dripped insincerity. "Until later." Mizora vanished in another flash of hellfire.

Tav peeled out of Raphael's hold and turned to the remaining devil. "What was that?"

"Just a timely intervention, little mouse. I do hate to lose a future client."

"I am not making any deals with you." Tav took a step away.

"Perhaps." The devil shrugged, wings following the motion of his shoulders. "But for now you owe me." With a snap of his fingers, Raphael transported them to the House of Hope. "Now let us discuss the terms of my timely intervention."

"I owe you nothing!" Tav spat.

"You'd be dead without me now."

"Maybe I'd rather be!"

"That can be arranged." Raphael's had closed around Tav's upper arm like a vice and he dragged them deeper into the House. "Maybe a small taste of death will help you appreciate what I just did for you." He bared his teeth as he spoke.

Tav followed because letting the devil drag them was even less dignified. Still they had to scramble to keep up. The devil wasn't in a magnanimous mood any longer.

"You'd have accepted the debt from any of your companions," he hissed. "Time to understand that it applies to me as well. "

"My companions aren't after my soul," Tav countered.

"Is that your worry?" Raphael stopped and Tav ran into him face-first. Black and gold eyes looked down at them as the devil curled his hands around their shoulders. "That I will take your soul?"

"What else could you want?" Tav did their best not to lose themself in the roiling coronas burning over them. The smell of smoke and cherries didn't help.

"Oh, my little pet, there are so many things I want that you can't even begin to fathom." He smiled dangerously. "Of course there are only so many you can grant."

Raphael slipped a finger under Tav's chin and regarded their face for a while. "What is equivalent to the worth of your life?" When Tav didn't answer, he continued: "maybe your own words will have the best result here. No one life is worth more than any other. A flawed assessment, all things considered, but for now it will do."

He leant down and Tav braced for belittling or insult as his breath raked over their skin hot enough to singe Tav's heart. "So this is my proposition, mousling. Your life for mine. A simple deal and easy to fulfil. If you ever find yourself in a position where you are about to take my life, you will not. If you see my life in danger, you will intervene as I did for you."

Tav bit their lip looking for the trap. It had to be one, coming form a devil, especially since it felt innocent enough. But after today they'd go on with their life. They knew where Halsin was and he'd resolve their tadpole problem. They'd never see Raphael again. A relief, that made their heart stutter.

How many devils had they met before this? None. So that was a good prognosis of how many they'd see once rid off their tadpole. Tav regarded the devil towering over them, black eyes, hot breath, sulphur and cherries and all. Once they were back, once they found Halsin, he was a thing of the past.

Speaking over their racing heart Tav held out their hand. "Deal."

"A deal indeed." Raphael gripped their hand with his, never taking his eyes of Tav. His fingers slipped far enough around to dig their sharp tips into Tav's soft flesh. "Now, back and to bed with you. You will need your wits about you in the journey to come."

Before Tav could reply, they found themself back at camp. Their new friends were relieved to welcome them back though worry spread when it became clear that Tav couldn't speak about the nature of the deal they made.

It took a wile for Tav to calm everybody down. They'd never make a deal for their soul and they had not. This much they could say. Whatever transpired was secret but harmless. In the end, Tav crawled into their bedroll slightly confused but feeling overall safe and appreciated.

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #mizora bg3 #bg3 tav #shyminnie07 #bg3 fanfiction #mel writes fanfic #one shot

[faorism]

niche crossover of the day that im too lazy rn to clean up and post to ao3 but may in the future: alec hardison (leverage) plays bg3

hardison balances playtime with hacker hours well, which means he moves through hyperfixations but has learned through working with the crew how to prioritize when there's a friend's life on the line. (there will be no more repeats of his crew sitting on a bomb without him right next to them.) sometimes though his partners lose him for a week after a new release, but now that they live together at least parker can drag him to bed for cuddles (and to sleep) and eliot will kept him fed.

it should go without saying that hardison loves baulder's gate 3. he heard such good things about it during early access from his dnd buddies, but hardison refuses to play EA because he will end up encountering bugs and basically writing the code that the devs will end up doing anyway, so why waste his time.

he plays without any prior knowledge, doesn't even know the characters really except from glimpses at their promo pics. but he's excited. he downloads the game, kisses his partners """goodbye""" for the foreseeable future (as long as a job doesnt spring up, but even then it would be a quick one because eliot sprained his ankle and needed to rest it no matter how much he complained he was good).

he decides to play his chaotic good halfling wizard mendula from two campaigns back - fresh enough in his mind to remember the character, but not too recent so that he wont feel conflicted if the tav storyline doesnt allow for precise oc characterizations. hardison gets super into it, but he doesnt linger on side quests, not yet: he wants to get a feel of the game without mods and follow its arc. hardison doesnt usually romance on a first playthrough, but wyll!!!!! wyll was right there being perfect and beautiful and righteous and black and bi and yeah, hardison had to fan himself off during the dance sequence

his party is wizard tav, shadowheart, wyll, and lae'zel, and barely switches them out. when astarion drains him dry and kills him, hardison is so annoyed he kills astarion. he feels very proud of himself when he sniped wyll's devil karlach without much fuss. then he skips a lot of the companion sidequests because he just wants to rush to the end. he gets married to wyll, then starts right over and plays wyll origin, now able to take his time and understanding the mechanics of the game. he also downloads QOL mods that have already come out for EA, and he has notes about ones he will make if no one else does when he's ready for playthrough #3. he purposefully avoids any major ones (so no Polyam Mod for him, though he does eye it, but he wants to see how multiple romances play himself).

he plays will as accurately as possible, which means engaging heavily with the very companions hardison spent ignoring because wyll? wyll cares (and fuck, hardison loves him for that because yes yes, that's him too!). and......

ah. okay so. maybe hardison shouldn't have ignored the companions so much since they do add a lot to the game! and..... maybe, just maybe, hardison was too hasty killing astarion and karlach the first go around. maybe a lot. he thought they would be companions for evil tavs/origins only! he played kotor and [insert game references here, i dont play games like this usually...], so he thought he knew what was up.

anyway, he is drawn so much to these two out of the novelty of them that he puts them into his party (the fourth spot he switches around, thought once hardison gets him, halsin is a fun mainstay because BEAR. hardison gets up romancing both astarion and karlach (and a little halsin, HALSIN IS SO EASY TO FLIRT WITH, larian WANTS you to fuck him)

and....... okay. okay. maybe romancing them both at the same time was a mistake because. because he loves them both. so much. for very different reasons. hardison feels so deeply and then he's forced to make a decision, and hardison crumples a bit. considers downloading the polyam mod but opts out of it to suffer vanilla game logic to its very end.

when he breaks up with astarion, who plays it so damn cool, hardison had to walk away from the computer to mourn by burying himself in his nearest partner's arms (eliot, this time).

he finishes the game, makes wyll go to avernus with karlach (as he made them do during this tav playthrough) and... thinks about astarion.

hardison had carried over the breakup scene save this whole time, and he decides fuck it, and goes back and tries it the other way this time.

he didnt know karlach will just... die on the pier. wtf. wtf. or wyll will go and there wont be any interaction with astarion?? hardison is Distraught. he downloads the polyam mod and while it doesnt force the issue, he can just feel at the edges that nope, this isnt authentic

finds partner's arms again. parker this time. she asks whats wrong with his make believe people, and he pauses for so long that parker thinks he fell asleep or didnt hear her, and then he quietly says that wyll has a heart big enough for two, a romance can be fairytale when made for three, dont they know there's nothing more beautiful than being held between by both the people you love?

parker kisses his temple as tears legit well in his eyes (and he feels embarrassed) and she yells for eliot for emergency group hugs.

eliot, with hardison squished between his two partners, usually doesnt get involved with hardison's gaming but this time he's just like, okay what is it about these characters that's getting to you like this? and why them together? who are they?

and hardison had already talked about wyll a little because disney prince. so he reiterates some of that with a major case of projection. and then when he turns to talk about the companions, hardison stops. and just.

oh.

a black man who was forced to make impossible desperate choices when he was still a teen, which got him into trouble as a consequence, and then being alone and wandering for years until he ran into a pack of different people come together for a common purpose. trying to be good, the best he could be, and hiding behind a flashy name to hide some of the more raw parts underneath. ravenguard and nana have strikingly similar cheekbones.

then theres a rogue with a deeply traumatic past who can be selfish and kinda insensitive and likes shiny things. a pale thief who likes a little bit of chaos even when running good alignment, and who can't help sticky fingers reaching for unsuspecting belts and also... well, also is a top, through and through. a top who likes to bite. vicious when upset. also... also touch adverse and who at first laughs at sincerity and then basks in it but only once your commitment is fully and well established. the only bit of code hardison wrote as he played his wyll origin was to remove astarion saying dont touch me when you switch to him; hardison flinched every time, hearing the cadence of parker's voice scratching at him when she's triggered.

then, a barbarian who handed from one handler (who ended up being a totalitarian dick) down the road until being owned by the literal devil. body put through hell, scars littering a body that spells strength at a distance. once escaped from the nightmare, only wanted their own perseverance. their own life. wanting so desperately for a touch, to be loved, to be held in a way that didn't spell murder. "heartless" after years of working for, again, literal devils, but so full of life and kindness and (also eliot is more coy about it) a deep sense of joy for the world. kind to children. protective of children. wary of deals too good to be true. willing to die than return to a life they once lived. death feels imminent, despite the protestations of everyone around them. really good bedroom eyes.

so.

yeah.

maybe... maybe

hardison couldnt get the words out to say all of that. all he says is, they're a lot like us. (like with astarion, if hardison spelled out the exact overlaps of the characters.)

the games dumb then, parker says. or at least broken. if the game isnt right, just go fix it?

and hardison has protests about the limits of what is possible within someone else's game and...

parker is like, you made a guy hold up a bank in like, 10 min? on a laptop with spotty internet and without a mouse or any preparation?

and this takes some time between other projects he really has to get to, but.... he does it. codes like a motherfucker and bribes eliot & parker into mocap and also genuinely pays the VAs to voice lines for him. shit hardison does for the love of his ot3:

script out unique banter for karlach and astarion in your party that hints of their attraction to one another

code in an extra option when astarion or karlach confront you for to prompt them to consider their own feelings for the other (different from the current but i want to be with you both! line)

a short nighttime cutscene that with dialogue that implies the three have just finished talking and have agreed to be together. they are all holding hands

include astarion and karlach in each other's act iii scenes (they arent the most chatty, admittedly, but they are there and integrated)

outside of camp, if you three are standing near each other, you can cast a spell that cuts to astarion and karlach kissing either of wyll's checks (this is admittedly somewhat buggy but!

edits out astarion cowering on the pier from the sun, just rushes the three to avernus which hardison doesnt have to edit; just uses astarion origin version for wyll.

nexusmods community begs desperately for him to do this for some other ot3s and he is willing to hear them out for shadowheart/lae'zel/tav, he absolutely refuses to break up karwyllstarion and only offers wyll pov. will not even allow for edits being made for a tav/karlach/astarion mod. he deeply pisses off some people, but overall this mod is downloaded a fuckton as the only truly viable polyam romance option in the game. people start writing fanfic specifically for this one mod and eventually it is just integrated into canon lore that karwyllstarion exists as an option

#wyll ravengard #alec hardison #astarion bg3 #leverage #karlach bg3 #wyllstarion #wyllach #karwyllstarion #parker leverage #eliot spencer #faorism meta #faorism work #faorism headcanons #bg3

[go-against-fate]

tged oc info dump because ive got fuck all to do

beloww

Frédéric-Ange Robillard

He's a painter who came from a noble family of Seers. The future is revealed to him through his paintings. As if his hands has a mind of its own, it illustrates the reality of what's to come. He doesn't have visions of it and he never knows if the future that's revealed to him would be good or bad. He just knows that his paintings has never been proved to be false

In TKOBAI he was executed via decapitation for not obeying Alicia's order to use his Seer ability to predict the actions of her enemies. His blood would paint the ground red. And it would be his final art piece.

In TGED, a lot his paintings involved a certain brown hair civil engineer. He gets a bit tired of being shown the same guy over and over but hes glad to know that this man is trying his hardest to bring peace to the world. He eventually retired and lived a quiet life with his family

Kalei

Hailing from a small village in Sortino Barony, she's a self taught... mage? She wouldn't exactly call herself one. But either way, she can manipulate the mana around her. She always had a fascination of its correlation with life. Too bad that same fascination is also what lead her to lose her home village.

One day she was just attending the village gathering to welcome the autumn season. Then she felt a sudden surge of power roaming inside her, gradually increasing in volume. Her small body couldnt handle this huge abrupt supply of mana inside her and she could feel herself coughing until her lungs hurt, until her throat burns, until red liquid poured out. She could hear muffled screams before she blacked out. Something happened in between that and she couldnt remember. All she knows is that when she opened her eyes, everyone (but her) in the village lay lifeless and cold; her parents not excluded.

She spent the next years trying to survive by herself. It's just a good thing she had plenty of knowledge and crafty hands to aid her

In TKOBAI she would spend the rest of her remaining years alone in the forest, isolated from any human interaction. The feeling of impending doom lingers in the air. Her forest companions whisper of death and despair outside the woods, yet she's not concerned anymore. She only wonders when the sunlight would finally peek through the dark clouds. After all, her plants need sunlight to grow

In TGED she wandered north and eventually arrived to the Frontera Estate. She was given a warm welcome by the people that she met and they even gave her a place to live, food to eat, and.. a job. She doesnt complain much about it though, she's glad that her ability to help plants grow is more useful than ever now

_

I created Kalei before Fred, but her lore is still unfinished compared to Fred whose story I felt is already pretty solid. The one i kinda struggle to figure out with is how exactly did she absorbed the life out of the people in her village ತ⁠_⁠ತ

I was thinking maybe.. she picked up like an ancient relic when she was playing in the forest near her village thinking it was another pretty rock for her collection. And the celebration triggered the relic to activate. Basically a pebble sized life absorption relic used in ancient times during a war or somthn

Im not rocking (🥁) with her outfit now tho:/ i want to redesign it

But anyway, random facts about Kalei:

Shes that weird kid who would torture bugs by slurping their mana out of them, watch them writhe, and when theyre in the brink of passing away, she would return their mana. Shes done this to plants too. It's rather cruel but shes literally just a morbidly curious child (⁠・⁠–⁠・⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ Guess she had a fascination with how abrupt a being's life could end (funny how that is considering her backstory lol) She has done the opposite of if this too tho! Sometimes, she would give them (specifically plants) a piece of her mana and watch as they grow a teensy bit faster than before

She likes collecting rocks that she thinks looks cool. There's a corner in her room dedicated to them

She has a cane because she has a limp in her right leg. It developed after The Incident™ she tripped and sprained her ankle. Never bothered to treat it because she thought that it'll just go away on its own. It never did tho. Instead, it got worse. It's to the point that she couldnt bare to put pressure on it. In TKOBAI she straight up just amputated her leg and crafted a handmade prosthetic. However, in TGED, she did get it treated but the damage has already been done

She had to fight a squirrel for acorns once. It was not a fun memory. And not only that, she had to fight with a lot of forest critters for food. Ate a lot of dubiously edible food. I think her taste buds are dead at this point. In general tho, she was dubbed a menace to the forest creatures and they made sure to stay away from her path

#teh talks #senart

[upagainstthesunset]

Ive been quiet lately. Still resting up after recent life events, but im hoping to get back into the swing of things (ie hobbies) soon. With that in mind, here's a very loose OC thought for Heartbeat bc of course that's where my mind is going first. I dont think i can really work this into the story, but i want to jot it down just in case...

Okay i need to provide context first tho bc this is after arc three. So in that arc, Heartbeat died but Metron scienced a way to bring her back (selfishly), but in classic "came back wrong" fashion, shes not her usual self. Shes been touched by the source beyond what her connection to it had allowed. I think itd be cool to have a scene where this evil(?) version of her tears out her motherbox in front of metron and discards it bc she doesnt need it anymore, shes powered by the source itself. Anyway, ultimately she does a lot of stuff in anger, support women's wrongs, etc. Metron tries again and actually fucking succeeds in bringing the Heartbeat we're familiar with back. But its like... :| Metron did you think any of this through from a moral standpoint? No. He did not. She is given the motherbox in maybe a parallel to the very beginning of the story. Um and through some ordeal she ends up able to work with herself and get her to calm tf down. But the evil heartbeat (btw her name is heartbreak) decided its best to go their separate ways otherwise theyre liable to kill each other or worse. And then she becomes the black racer (or maybe had been for a while). This leaves heartbeat and metron to continue their story, and that's the end of arc three.

SO i did not plan to have a fourth arc. But i mean, i don't see any harm in spitballing here.

Alright, so now we're in a weird situation where there like isnt actually a Real™ Heartbeat bc the original returned to the source and the source works in mysterious ways (ie i dont gotta explain shit), then metron sort of forced a way to get two versions of her out. What does this mean about the source? What about life or souls or consciousnesses? Idfk. And here is where we get into real i-dont-think-this-fits-the-story territory, which is why im posting here instead of my actual story notes. Consider this a "what if".

What if.. it turned out the second heartbeat to emerge from the source (the one now acting as metrons companion) stops existing if metron stops believing in her. This is pulled from the concept that gods only exist bc people believe in them, which I actually personally hate so who knows why im running w this idea. Anyway, so he has no reason to think she doesnt or cant or shouldnt exist, so things are fine for a while. Maybe we do some more doctor who styled episodic shenanigans. Until something causes metron to have doubts. And it affects heartbeat. Eventually they figure out whats going on. Um idk what happens next, but ultimately theyd both come to understand that this is proof of how metron feels. I mean, god knows he isn't going to say in words how he feels about a thing. So even if they part ways, even if metron travels to other times and universes, as long as heartbeat exists we know that he wants her to exist.

And thats really the whole reason im toying with this idea. Its the concept of existing as evidence that you still matter to someone.

So it doesnt even have to be that he believes in her. It just needs to be some mechanism where he cannot bring himself to discard her. And I think between the source and the speedforce and metrons weird science, maybe something could fit. I want undeniable, irrefutable proof that how he felt when he made the deal w darkseid to harvest the motherbox from her is now quite the opposite.

#ocheartbeat #metron if i fits i sits #otpsmartbeat

[abyssal-cryptid]

I keep playing Tears of the Kingdom (SPOILERS)

The Like enemies are the worst

I hate them

Yona is such a sweetie

They wrote Sidon and Link's relationship to be romantic in this and added a girlfriend to Sidon for deniability

Yona even calls me Sidon's 'true companion'

The people making tutorials for every little thing have my heart because I am dumb of ass

I cant be the only one who avoids the depths like my life depends on it

Its not even the depths, the chasms just make me almost have panic attacks

Anyways there is a chasm under Zora domain

Its free on enemies and has a forge

Im terrified of the dark

Also there is Zora statues

Why is Link dick sucking height for everyone

Sidon, Rauru, Ganon

I mean

I dont write porn someone else do that for me

I write sad Link

Not that sad Link cant suck dick I just cant write it

Anywaysss

I would go to the Tulin air temple but there is an ice spider there

FUCK I FORGOT TO TAKE A PIC OF THE BOSSES IN WATER TEMPLE NOO

MY COMPENDIUM

Also the boss bokoblin marches are so scary wtf

I saw group of black bokoblins paradin around and immediatly dipped into the ocean

Safety

Cant follow me

I was excited for pirates

But no its just monsters

Uhhhh quick tip dont sleep in the middle of killing the Lurelin village pirates

You bet your ass Im spending my precious time fixing up the village with Bolson

Its so fun

Im helping

I love these types of quests

In going to Hestu after this

I dont want to

I so dont want to

WAIT I WAS LIED TO

HESTU MY DEAREST

HE'S AT THE LOOKOUT TOWER

BABY BOY

I hate the depths

WHY IS THERE LIGHT EATING ENEMIES

But I need bombs and theres a lot of them here

Stop making me go down there

Let me be

Back to rebuilding

Im sure I was doing something but I cant remember

I need more space for meals

YAY WE DID IT

REBUILT

Roman is now 4*-5*-4*-3* horse and I love him so much

He looks like Epona and has flowers in his mane

Ive gotten like 9 memories

I love the animation for Link gaining hearts or stamina

Why cant the musicians walk

I love Mastro

His little ya yahs

Their band is really good

Makes me want to run in the woods

Anyways more great fairy!

Why is there no great moose

Why do I have to pay the great fairy

HOW DO I KEEP PREDICTING BLOOD MOONS TO A TEE

They gave Link so many slutty slutty outfits

Making Link wear the hylian hood when he opens a memory looks funny

LEAVE ZELDA ALONE

Why doesnt Master Sword ever talk to ME

Why does it only talk to Zelda

Maybe there was a mix up because goddess Hylia only talks to Link

Imagine

NO ZELDA NO DONT DO IT

ZELDA BABY PLEASE

ZELDA

NO

ZELDA DONT

ZELDA

Im going to write Zelda-Link fanfiction about this

Typhlo ruins being visible is kind of strange

Wait I can have a whip

Okay I admit I like the vehicles

All great fairies opened

Stable Trotters play so beautifully

The scales on the great fairies clothes are so pretty

Sidon's avatar has scared me so many times

Can I please get the ancient saddle back

YIGA FIT AQUIRED

I slayed

Literally

Got all the rewards possible from the hideout

Rauru is dumbass a little bit

Ganondorf is so hot here

Ganondorf is a liar but my god

Sonia is so beautiful my god

Zelda looks kind of like Sonia's daughter and I wonder if Ganon thinks she is

The Zonai clothing is stunning

Why does Ganondorf have to be so evil

I GOT THE HYLIAN SHIELD

OMG

I NEVER GOT THIS IN BREATH OF THE WILD

Slip resistance is like the most useless thing in this fucking game

Because it does nothing

Even on level 3

Nothing

NOTHING

WHY DID YOU PUT THIS IN GAME THEN

The Dream Homes are so cool

They cost so many coins

But Im so excited

Its so cute

I CAN HAVE ROMAN IN A PERSONAL STABLE

I got a kitchen too

And a study

And weapons room

I love it

Is it time for Gerudo town clearing? Yes yes yes

I hate this sandstorm and love the desert so

The Lightning Temple is so cool

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

WHAT

WHEN DID THIS BECOME A HORROR GAME

I HATE THAT

The puzzles are hard, I have so little brains

Boss battles are so hard

The Lightning Sage is majorly hit

Why is Demon Ganondorf so hot

WAIT DAYBREAKER WAS HER SHIELD

Is this like a traditional shield and weapon of the Lady of Gerudo?? I thought it was just Urbosa

Btw Urbosa is my favorite Champion and I adore her

Simple lesbian brain

Once again Zonai Zelda is the prettiest person in any room

Please Can I Marry Her

Why does Zelda have tear tattoos? Like did she just get them to complete her fit

Iconic

Why cant we see the faces of the Sages

Me every time they call Zelda the Sage of Time

Riju is adorable

She's grown so much

I intended to write a long fic about BOTW with my interpertation of Link and all

But then TOTK released

I do keep thinking about it

There is so many ideas and headcanons I have

I do miss dressing Link as a girl

He has slutty outfits but like let me explore Link's gender

RIJU'S AVATAR IS SO PRETTY

LIKE PRETTY AND FIERCE AND SCARY

I LOVE IT AND HER

I so had a crush on Riju in BOTW I was just dumb and in denial

GERUDO TOWN IS BACK TO NORMAL

MY BELOVED

FAVORITE CITY

I want to write a desert civilization inspired ny the Gerudo and also real desert civilizations

But idk where to start

Oh I need to take a picture of Mattison for Hudson

I love Patricia

*feeds fruit to her*

I love that Padda also loves her despite her puns

WHY IS BOZAI STILL HERE

HOW DO I GET RID OF HIM

A VOE IN THE CITY

I really like the custom they have of the vai coming to live and grow in the city after certain age

FINALLY I CAN HAVE A NOBLE PURSUIT

I love the thunder helm

Haha you cant touch me

Its 3.30am rn

I should sleep soon, the sun wakes in like an hour

Impa, staring at me publicly in Gerudo town: I did not expect to see you here

She has the same energy as Yoda

#tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda #spoilers

[waywardsalt]

on my knees gripping my head hnngggg i thought abt bellumbeck too hard

tag ramblings are fun and on brand but i have too many disorganized thoughts and tags are limiting.

anyways thinking too hard abt him is an extremely good and fun thing but i cannot draw the way i wish and can't really put my thoughts into fic form so this is very much going to be a fun ramble.

bellumbeck drives me insane we all know this. he showed up in my dream last night as of writing this sentence so he is on my mind, which is surprising bc fictional stuff doesn't usually show up coherently in my dreams but there it was.

it's so incredibly fun to think about bellumbeck. he's such a black sheep of a loz final boss, there really isnt another loz final boss like him in concept or even in 1:1 tone imo. it's so fun to take bellumbeck incredibly darkly seriously.

to be fair bellumbeck is kind of objectively a fairly dark and disturbing final boss on a conceptual level, and it's not really out of nowhere since phantom hourglass has at least a little darkness running through it even if the general tone of the game doesn't really acknowledge or take advantage of it. but if you think about it hard enough even without getting into post-game speculation in regards to what happens with linebeck, bellumbeck is kind of a dark boss and it's great. full on screen demonic possession of a major character with most of the cast incapacitated and link isolated with no escape on the ruins of the ghost ship that started everything and facing a boss that is constantly facing him and both someone he's been with the whole adventure and also the creature that's captured his friends and killed who knows how many people.

it's so oooouuuugghhhh it's so much fun to think about bellumbeck even though it's such a short encounter. it's so... the mystery around bellum, the way linebeck is built up throughout the game and saves link directly before getting possessed, the fucking on-screen vaguely violent possession (i am forever obsessed with the way bellum grabs and tugs on his arms), the way ciela is captured early into the fight, too, the first companion character you meet and, if you had her equipped, it leaves you without a fairy that follows your cursor around for the first time all game, it's very... congrats you and your friends are at rock bottom! good luck getting everyone out of there alive!!!!

of course it's not quite that because this game is geared a bit more towards younger players, but still keeps those streaks of darkness and complexity just simply because they're inevitable parts of this story and it's characters. bellumbeck. i'm talking about bellumbeck. what a soulsborne-ass final boss, huh?

there's only so much a ds game can do in terms of boss animations, but i think a lot about more complicated movements and animations for bellumbeck, so, so much character can be communicated through a boss's animations. in my mind, i enjoy bellumbeck movements with an emphasis on puppet-like flourishes and mannerisms, and an emphasis on weight with how he fights. these two go very well together, and its something i love imagining.

with the latter, an emphasis on weight, would ideally focus on the sword (and im a fan of it being this huge greatsword, reading berserk got me around to liking it because you can do that really well) and how it has to be used one-handed, with bellumbeck leveraging his own weight against it and taking advantage of momentum to use it especially effectively to turn link into a little green and red smear on the wood. attacks blending into each other as he builds up momentum, and using that weight primarily against link, who is a small opponent who relies on rolling around and can’t really stack up at all in terms of brute force.

i imagine this kind of physicality and movement would lend itself very well to bellumbeck also having more puppet-like movements, being a little too tugged-along by his attacks but still retaining his footing, his free arm being just a little too limp a little too often, and his leaning away from his sword side, likely with the intention to properly balance himself out, looks off with how his head lolls unnaturally to that side. the puppetry effect lessens as the fight wears on and bellum gets the hang of the body he’s using, but never actually goes away since he’s not looking to act properly human anyways.

just like... movement flourishes and details that could add a whole lot to the overall experience of bellumbeck that i think about often.

#bellumbeck #loz #legend of zelda #phantom hourglass #salty talks #do you see my vision. do you understand what im getting at here. i need bellumbeck to be a bit scarier #this is. EXTREMELY inspired by my recent elden ring kick. bellumbeck would fit in really well as a soulsborne boss #removing the fact that he only takes damage from one spot. i think you could really easily translate the bellumbeck boss into soulsborne #a few zelda bosses would work really well with soulsborne combat and another one is ww ganondorf #i dont think abt it often but i do love what game animations can convey and i think its like. the way elden ring works has me more #carefully watching game animations bc if i dont learn to recognize them then i die yknow #idk if ill tag linebeck or bellum but maybe not bc this is mostly just a bellumbeck post #technically in a sense theyre both tagged. whatever #‘bellumbeck’s design is a little off/silly’ cool heres how you lean into it. also read berserk. dont read berserk actually #find something else about a guy with a huge sword being taken seriously