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marilynthornhilllover · 6 months

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Kinkmas idea!!

Alcina wrapping you up (tying you up, really 😏) like a gift and edging you with her fingers, mouth, maybe even a few toys before giving you the most mind-blowing orgasm and making you cum over and over again to the point of overstimulation hehe

Kinkmas fanfic: #2

Under the Christmas tree

Alcina x fem!reader

Warning: smut!, fingering, cunniligus, , vibrator, overstiumlation, rough sex, oragam denial, praise kink, possessiveness, degradation kink, choking, pussy slaps, so much more.

A/n: I didn't write this my freaky side did💀😏anyway hope you enjoy!!!

It was ridiculous what you were doing. It was Christmas morning and you made sure to get up way earlier than Alcina. There were lots of things to do and she wanted to get up early so that she could wrap the girl's gifts and get Christmas dinner ready, since after all she gave the staff their full two-week holiday vacation. You got up and got dressed in a see-through lace lingerie and a silk see-through robe to cover up.

You were careful not to wake Alcina with any sudden move movement as you tip-toed down the old staircase and into the huge living room. You grabbed the essential things you needed for your mission and you began to work. After getting all wrapped up you sat on your knees and tried your best to be comfortable in the position and suit as you waited for your time to shine.

Alcina soon woke up from the adrenalin of your heart beat and the sound of blood rushing through your vain rapidly. At first she just thought you were having a nightmare but when she heard your heart beat pick up she immediately got up and threw on her robe. She made her way into the bathroom to check on you before quickly realizing you weren't there. At this she took on full protective armor.

She unhinged her claws and made her way downstairs. She was standing on business. She was scared to see what you were doing or rather if someone had you captive. She stopped dead in her tracks with a confused look painted on her face. Under the Christmas tree was you, wrapped up properly in beautiful Christmas wrapping paper.

" draga what on earth are you doing" she moved quickly towards you, kneeling in front of you to make sure you were ok.

" I wanted to you open up a early Christmas present mommy" you spoke seductively batting your eye lashes in a needy manner. If you didn't know any better it was safe to say that she was utterly confused about the situation but you did know better and trust.... she had the clearest idea of what was going on.

When she didn't respond you spoke up again, moving your move like a worm to get closer to her, trying not to fall since your knees were aching from being the the position of being pressed to the floor for quite some time and your body was wrapped tightly in wrapping paper.

" don't you wanna open up your gift and play with it mommy.... I'm yours.... use me..." you husked looking up at her through lidded lashes while biting your bottom lip before releasing it with a teasing moan. You knew darn well what you were doing and putting yourself into, but when she looked at you like that, dark eyes, pupils blown out completely leaving a thin line of yellow and the look she always gave you before sending you into oblivion, you didn't give two shots about the out come. You needed her.

With her long claws she shredded the paper from your body. Her eyes lingered on your perfect breasts that were pushed up from the lingerie and threatening to spill out, your perfect curves that the lingerie outlined perfectly. She made eye contact with you again and her gaze set you on fire. You ignited something in her that will surely have her going for the entire night. Now you knew you were in for something big.

" upstairs now. Make sure your on the bed and opened by the time I step foot into that room or else you won't like the punishment that will await you my dear" the way she spoke sent shivers up your spine. A low pitch, it was almost like a whisper, it was so raspy that you almost didn't catch what she said entirely.

" did I stutter?" She asked tilting her head to the side while studying your facial expression. You gulped shook your head.

" don't go all shy on me now draga. A while ago you were so mouthy and had so much to say. You better use your words because you'll have too when we get to the bedroom" she spoke.

" Yes mommy" you quickly made your way upstairs and back to your shared bedroom, you tried your best to hide the growing smirk on your face as you glanced back at alcina just before you entered the room. You got onto the bed and spread open your legs. You waited patiently for alcinas arrival. She came through the door and closed it behind her.

She didn't even bother to spare you a look, not even to make sure that you had obeyed her properly. Well you had too or else you'd have to face her wrath. The one where she showed no mercy what so ever.

She went into her closet before taking quite some time. You heard some drawers open and close and some shuffling in boxes before a faint soft chuckle then complete silence. A eerie dangerous spine shivering silence. The silence her victims hear before she slices them to ribbons.

She emerged from the bathroom wearing a see through red stain robe, it was tight around her body showing off her perfect curves, it was short exposing her thick pale creamy thighs and of course her cleavage that was clearly on full display for obvious reasons. In her hand she held a button car shaped vibrator.

" since my little toy wanted to act all boastful we'll see how well she can handle how mommy plays with her pussy" she whispered, mostly to herself as she crawled her way up onto the bed. She moved her hair to the side of her neck as she gently spread open your legs wider. You anticipated what she was about to do next as you squirmed against her cold hands on your inner thighs. She was just laying there staring at your clothed cunt like it was gold or diamonds. It probably was, in her universe.

" stop moving before I get the spread bar" she snarled darkly as her eyes flicked up to yours, her gaze was very intense and fierce. You softly whined as she proceeded to pull your panties to the side. You shivered as she digged her nails into the flesh of your thighs before licking your slick. You moaned and slightly gripped the bed sheets as she pulled back and chuckled darkly. She continued to softly kiss and lick your slit as she made her way up to your clit.

You moaned as she gently pulled your clit with her teeth as your hands flew to her raven hair. She moaned as you gently strached her scalp with your nails. She began to suck brutally at your clit making your back arch as you pulled her hair harder. She groaned as she felt more of your arousal rush into her mouth. You let out a pornographic moan as she shoved two fingers into your soaked cunt without warning.

She looked up at the sight of you and smirked. Your eyebrows were fused together as your mouth was Slightly agape, your pretty nipples perked up as your chest rised and fell as you whimpered and whined. She took the opportunity of your fuzzy state and decided to attach the vibrator to your clit. She pulled back leaving a string of saliva from her mouth to your pussy. Your arched back fell as your eyes rolled back when she turned on the toy to a low but a soft wave vibration setting.

At the exact same time she began thrusting her fingers in you at a rapid pace. You felt as if you were about to lose consciousness. And that only happens when your brain becomes so fuzzy just before alcina sends you straight into oblivion.

" you fuck mommy! O-oh God shit" you moaned loudly as your eyes snapped open to meet her gaze. Her eyes were completely filled with lust and to be truth, it turned you on even more. You held on to the sheets for dear life and alcina pushed her fingers pass knuckle length in you curling them at the right spot making your eyes roll back.

" aw is my baby gonna cum already? So desperate for mommy to fuck you that you can't even hold off your oragsm for 5 minutes. So a desperate little slut you are, you just needed this pussy fucked huh?" The way she stretched her words in a purred her made you clench around her fingers as your hips bucked up off the bed slightly. You threw back your head against the pillows as the speed for the vibrator went up.

You started rocking your hips in a desperate manner as alcina began to fuck you with her fingers harder.

" FUCKKKK!" You let out the most pornographic moan ever as alcina began pumping her fingers against your g-spot as her long slender fingers massage your spongy walls. Your eyes rolled completely back to the point where you were positive you were probably seeing complete white.

" there she is.... good girl draga mea" you swore you could just cum from the way she talked to you. Your cunt tightened around her fingers as she kept hitting that sweet spot that made you go feral. Just as you were about to cum alcina pulled out her fingers and quickly turned off the vibrator - completely removing it rather. You whined and writ closer to her but she moved away. You were completely soaked and aching - not to mention needy as fuck ever since you started this ' early gift opening thing'.

Alcina slapped your clit harshly making you jolt and cry out in pain as the stinging you felt spread all through your cunt. Again it turned you on.

" you don't get to have your way my love, remember you said to use you and that your mine?" She sat up and smirked at your disheveled and disorntedisoriented.

" Come on, all fours and ass up in the air now" she purred, you got into position as she ran back into the bathroom for something. She emerged from the bathroom and you glanced back just in time to see her black strap with glitter attached to her waist. She pushed down your body on the bed, placing a pillow under your waist line while pressing on your lower back to get a perfect and deep arch. She held onto your hips firmly before bottoming out her entire length into you.

You sighed in pleasure as you presses your face into the pillows. Alcina grabbed your hips and retracted herself before she pounds herself back into you. You cried out in both pain and pleasure from the sensation. She knew damn well what she was doing. You felt so achy and needy not to mention so damn full of her huge cock that was buried deep within your gummy walls of heaven. She started off with a slow pace before it quickly got cruel.

The way she was pounding into your pussy was fascinating. She had so much will power it was unbelievable. The room was soon filled with noises such as skin slapping from when her hips hit you pervix so deliciously good making your toes curl.

" good fucking girl! Look at you taking mommy's cock like the pretty girl you are" she purred as she grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back going even deeper.

" M-mhmg so fucking good g-GOD ALCINA!" You screamed as she dragged the faux cock against your g-spot in a brutal way. You clenched down on it making it hard for her to move. It was a primal move but you had to do it so you had to do it if you didn't wanna be teased about it later on.

" Your holding off your oragam aren't you little one?" She asked in a sultry and dark tone. You whined as choked you from behind bringing your back against her chest as she fucked you like an animal.

" you love when mommy treats you like the slut you are huh? Whoring out yourself like that" she scoffed.

" I mean how desperate could you and that little pussy be? Mhmh" she snaked her hand down and around in front of you to play with you puffy clit that was denied an oragsm earlier. Your eyes rolled back as you clenched down on her cock so hard it made it worst.

" there she is. I know you want to, my love. Just look at how your greedy cunt is trying to keep my cock in you huh? Come on cum for me" she whispered in your ear as she quickend her pace on your clit. You swore you were pushed into outer heaven because from that you saw complete white. You cumed on alcinas dick as you could hear her soft purrs and groans and whispers of sweet nothings. She pushed you down on the bed and slowly pulled out of you.

She grinned like a naturally evil witch as she saw all you juices oozing out of you slowly. She looked at it like a art work she had just created. The mess she just created. She rubbed your ass before spanking it roughly. You jolted as you groaned. You were so sore and spent. You were definitely not cooking Christmas dinner.

Alcina spanked you multiple times until she saw her hand print on your pale white cheeks. She grabbed them and spread them apart as she continued to watch what she created. It was a never ending flow.

She flipped you over and looked at you burned out face. Clearly you hadn't come down from you high yet and was mostly still sensitive. She caressed your shaking legs that were prone to be wobbly if you tried to walk. Matter fact she hope you can walk, because after that fucking you were probably going to be feeling her for days on end.

" sweet girl, mommy's not done using you yet" she whispered as she gently attached the vibrator to your clit again. You were so unaware of what was going on, it's safe to say you were in dream land.

She pushed your legs up above your head and turned on the vibrator to the highest setting. You jolted from your wonder land and immediately let out a moan as your eyes rolled back.

" alcina! P-please no more I'm too s-sensitive" your cry fell on a deaf ear as alcina began eating you out like a monster with her very long and skilled tongue as she vibrator worked against your clit. You thighs shaked as they threatened to close around her head but she held them open wider with a strong grip. You cried out loudly. You were positive you had awoken every species that was sleeping.

Your hands flew to alcinas hair to try to remove her or the vibrator but you were far too weak. Alcina continued to clean you, slightly getting drunk in your taste and smell that she forgot that you were far to overstiumlated. She looked up at you, and winked. She removed the vibrator and attached your clit. Your back arched as you collapsed on the bed. You just gaved into the feeling of both pleasure and pain.

Alcina sighed against you sending small shock waves through your body. At this point, you looked possessed. Eyes rolled back, back arched, mouth open, sweating like crazy. Alcina shoved three fingers into you and that was it. You cumed on her fingers and all over her face. She lapped you up once more and then she pulled away from you clit with a pop. She kissed your clit softly before removing her fingers. Licking them off he left kisses all over your body as she snaked her way up to your face.

She admired your state.

" Well then..... let's get you cleaned up shall we" she asked grinning. You didn't even have any energy left to speak, move or think. She picked you up and took you to the bathroom. All you could feel was your throbbing pussy and rhe sound of the water running.

She kissed your forehead and whispered in your ear.

" next time I won't show mercy".

Tag list: @agathaandgwenslesbian @aemilia19 @barbarasstar @samanthasadhdlife if you want to be tagged for more kinkmas that are coming soon please comment below to be added!!!

#alcina x female reader #lady alcina dimitrescu #re8 alcina #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina #resident evil alcina #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #marilynthornhilllover fanfics #christmas

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tennessoui · 4 months

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If you don’t mind Miss Kit, here’s a little morning AU Pitch:

In a galaxy where the Padawans aren’t allowed to become a knight without the getting the explicit OK from their Master, Obi-Wan has reached the ripe age of 25, becoming the oldest Padawan in the Order after getting denied YET again by Qui-Gon to become a Knight. (Reasons can be he either really doesn’t think Obi-Wans ready or he’s still scarred about his last failed apprentice (Xanatos)) On the cusp of the Clone Wars, his Master dies, leaving him a Masterless AND still a Padawan. The Council has thought he was ready since he was 23(or whatever), but could do nothing since Qui-Gon said no.

However, there is a freshly knighted Anakin Skywalker walking around who is in desperate need of a friend/guidance/partner and whose Master also conveniently just died. With the War just about to kick off, and frankly having little to no options when it comes to people who want an adult Padawan, they decide that the two are perfect for another. r(also they have to actually TRY and see why Qui-Gon wouldn’t let him become knighted, and actually let someone bond to investigate)

Not only will they be able to help each other past their grief while also (hopefully) becoming friends, but it’s not like Skywalker will want a 25 yr old Padawan following him around like a puppy for long. He’ll probably graduate Obi-Wan before the end of the day. Three birds with one stone; they’ll get another knight, Skywalker will get a friend, and Obi-Wan can finally stop having nightmares of still being a Padawan at 40. It’s perfect.

The only problem is it’s Anakin. And he’s had a crush on Obi-Wan since he was 9yrs old. With the Clone Wars about to start, why would he ever want Obi-Wan anywhere but by his side? And besides, now Obi-Wan will HAVE to notice him now. Will have to do what he says, listen to his commands, always look at him first for permission, call him MASTER…yeah, there’s no way he’s letting THAT go anytime soon.

That’s it! Anyways, thought it was cool idea that I saw in twt. Could be fluffy, could be dead dove or just dark or anything really. Like how funny would it be that Obi-Wan here, who is not only older, but calmer, and more level headed, leads a negotiation only to turn around and say ‘what do you think Master?’ The power trip Anakin would get is god tier lol

It’s been eating a t my brain a while now, and I wanted to see what other people thought of it lol

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Oh this is an interesting take! A master who is younger and by a few years and already has that crush on padawan obi-wan—who is no doubt grieving his dead master and also nursing a hurt and anger that he hasn’t been knighted yet

love the idea of the Council being like yeah knight Skywalker has been doing a lot of unhinged things he probably won’t want an older padawan dragging him down so he’s gonna knight him soon and we can take care of this oversight by the books

and anakin is like this is my padawan and childhood crush and love of my life and his name is obi-wan and I am never gonna let him go thank you for legally binding us together 💛

#asks #obikin #I don’t go on Twitter so I haven’t seen anything like this before but it’s cool #anyone is always welcome to send AUs to me of course #ask answering time as always will vary

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theflyindutchwoman · 7 months

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Wait, is she touching you? She's touching you, isn't she? Hey, you know what? If she offers you money for sex, I'm gonna win this bet. Look, I am down to do whatever you want. Yeah, you are.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 4.07 - Fire Fight

What I love about this scene is how unassuming it appears to be : for all intents and purposes, this moment is meant to offset the more serious and dramatic part of the episode. Nothing else. And yet, it hides so many layers… One of them is how it actually gives us an aperçu of Tim and Lucy going undercover together at the end of the season. With the way they flirt here, it makes their practice kiss and all their display even more inevitable. And this is the perfect continuation of Lucy's last UC op, where she flirted with him to pass him the informations she had (and save his life). That their default mode while undercover is to flirt says everything… Those mission really gives them the cover and freedom they need to explore their feelings without revealing their hand. Having Tim go undercover, with Lucy as his handler, is also a perfect role reversal, where the student has become the master. He doesn't once question her expertise : he might protest but it's more out of habit than anything else. It's certainly never out of malice. Now add Tim's baggage when it comes to that line of work… And it brings out another layer. Interestingly though, this side is not explored. The aim here is to ease him into this, without triggering any bad memories the way Lucy's very first op did. This is a short stint, with no high stakes. And this explains why he doesn't protest much when Lucy suggests he goes undercover as Jake in the first place : the fun they have here might have played a part.

Lucy is definitely enjoying this way too much, instantly ragging on Tim's choice of clothes when he shows up at the rendezvous. They haven't even started yet and he looks done already. This is such a good reminder of their first dynamic : grumpy/sunshine. He just can't hide his smile, even in front of her, anymore - like when she recites the UC rules. The walls are down. Also, the fact that she had a jacket ready for him, clearly having expected this to happen, just shows how well she knows him.

But aside from all this fun, there's this undercurrent of tension that rises to the surface when Tim puts the jacket on… or when he lifts his shirt off, showing off his abs… The atmosphere here is so different than when she caught him wearing only a towel at Rachel's place. There is an awareness now that wasn't there yet. And it's even more intense with their close proximity. Or with Lucy having to touch him. It's just so intimate. The looks they exchange… It's electric. It's close to how it felt for a moment at Tim's place… Until he realises that she's placing the mic too high on his chest… Is it distraction? Is it on purpose? Either way, the way she rips off the tape, looking so smug, and his high-pitched scream are hilarious. Her sorry doesn't even sound sorry at all. #sorrynotsorry

And from there, it goes completely unhinged. Only these two would openly flirt and riling the other up while one of them is undercover. Now, to be fair, it started normally, with Lucy coaching Tim. But the second Aston began flirting with him, professionalism went out of the window. Then again, these are the same idiots who were making out 'for work', so maybe it is their definition of professionalism. Tim is trying to remain in-character but Lucy is having the time of her life, listening to their conversation. His smirk when Aston caresses his hand and Lucy comments on it, reminding him of their bet and how he might unwittingly help her win it if their mark keeps this up… They are so flirty here, openly, taking advantage of the situation… And that really lays the groundwork for Vegas. The fact that Lucy is basically whispering in his ear, that he can't see her, brings a certain level of intimacy… And while he is talking to Aston, his reactions are for Lucy. Like his big smile : sure, he is amused by their suspect's behavior, but I have a hard time believing that this isn't Lucy's comments that provoked it. There's such a double meaning to their dialogue… Like when he tells their suspect he is 'down to do whatever [she wants]', with Lucy instantly answering him with her iconic 'yeah you are'… She couldn't have said it in a more lusty tone.

This is all ambiguous, giving them plausible deniability. It allows them to act in a less than professional way, but without any repercussion. Almost as if they're testing the water. And it makes sense that Tim tries to take a step back after this mission, to reclaim some boundaries… Well, for a short while. All of this just comes back in full force when they have to go undercover as a couple… with no going back.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #4.07 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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amazingmsme · 6 months

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your lib hcs were so good omg, do you have any for them as lees? i so need wiggly to be absolutely WRECKED, he’s so cocky and self important all the time, he needs to be taken down a peg fr. plus the fact that he made tickling his whole thing is so perfect for teasing.. “if you don’t enjoy this, why did you make it a part of your brand? it’s like you were thinking about it, like you wanted it!”

OKAY U GAVE US LER!THE LORDS IN BLACK HCS.

…we need the lee! Hcs now 👁👁 /j/nf

Do you have any lee headcanons for the Lords in Black?

Back by popular demand, it’s the lords lees in black! You’ve heard of tickle monsters, now get ready for tickled monsters! Again, this got p long so gonna put it under the cut

All the libs blush their respective colors

Based off the doll designs, all of their tummies are fuzzy & a different color than the rest of their fur, so they’re all pretty ticklish there, some more than others 😉

Pokey

He’s one of the more fun & “chill” lords, so it’s not much of a surprise that he just kinda rolls over & lets his bros wreck his shit

He thinks it’s fun & enjoys the feeling itself as well as the feeling of laughing freely

He has deep, rich laugh that sounds like pure joy itself. If you get him really laughing it can legit shake the room

Because the hivemind is tuned in to him, they know exactly when he’s in a lee mood. They coordinate their attack & take turns tickling him & he lets it happen because he promised them happiness & world peace & if this is what they wanna do he won’t stop them!

His most ticklish spots are his neck & belly because those muscles are most associated with singing (vocal cords & diaphragm) & ribs since they cage the lungs. Oh, & ears. I may be tickle trash, but I try to have some kind of reasoning behind why I headcanon characters as being ticklish certain places

I think Tinky & Wiggly are the ones who tickle him the most because they both have bully energy

Blinky

Funny how they just love watching other people get their shit wrecked but when it’s HIS turn he’s covering his face out of embarrassment

Arguably the most flustered, but Wiggly gives him a run for his money, he’s just more angy about it

Absolutely no idea why, but I’m getting ticklish hands vibes. Probably the long sleeves over the hands

Watcher with a thousand eyes=eyes in the back of his head=ticklish scalp? 👀👀👀

Has a really cute high pitched giggle that’s very bubbly

The shiny leggings & boots draw a lot of attention to the lower body, & it makes me think his worst spots are his hips, knees & feet. & the baggy hoodie makes me feel like his armpits are also up there

Tinky

This unhinged goatman constantly has to be put in his place by his brothers & tickling is the best (& easiest) way to do so

He absolutely provokes them to wreck his shit because he thinks it’s so much fun & he loves to laugh & be silly & make. & he always feels so proud of himself to dragging the rest of them down to “his level” but then they immediately make him regret it… then he does it again an hour later

Very open about how much he loves it, but still gets embarrassed when his brothers tease him about it

He has hooves instead of feet, & if you were to try to buff them up or polish them he’d be such a giggly snorting mess

He has a shrill, hysterical cackle like how he laughs in The Summoning

He has a lil goat tail & if you scratch at the small of his back he arches away with the loudest screech you’ve ever heard

His most ticklish spots are his ears/neck, thighs & knees, & hooves if you use a rough enough touch

His ears are super soft & velvety & if you rub them between your fingers he can’t stop snorting between giggles

Tickling makes him so hyper & excited & his bros have to work extra hard to tide him out

Nibbly

Besides Tinky, he is the happiest & most playful of the lib & always has that classic wide grin plastered on his face. & he has a bright, joyous laugh to match!

Because he has such a big mouth, his laugh is really loud & bombastic. He also has a really cute giggle that’s sweet as honey

Gets really flustered if you use his own techniques & teases against him

Can’t stand tickle bites or raspberries despite how much he loves to dish them out

The fluffy arm sleeves really got me thinking about how it probably tickles him on accident when he moves, especially around his armpits

Even when he’s not tickled, he’s just very giggly

Since his whole thing is eating, his tummy is one of his worst spots. Also his thighs, sides & armpits

Wiggly

What you’ve all been waiting for tbh, am I right?

Biggest fucking lee out of all the lib but is in such hard denial mode. The Tickle Me Wiggly doll was the first step to acceptance & he keeps trying to make excuses for why he chose the name

Like it absolutely could’ve been just a Wiggly doll, no tickling required but he made his choice & stuck with it

Keeps insisting he had to make something unassuming & innocent & all his bros are just like mmmmhmmmm 😏

He’s sooo easy to fluster but be careful, he gets mad when he’s embarrassed. Not his usual scary levels of anger but def pissy

Even tho he loves it he will always try to run away. Gotta keep up appearances

His laugh is shrill & borders on cackling. Sometimes it’s giggly & bouncy & broken up by hiccups like in the middle of Made in America

A very jittery & nervous lee. He laughs in anticipation & curls in on himself & tries to talk himself out of the situation he absolutely put himself in

All of the lords wreck his shit on a regular basis because it’s the only way they can knock him down a peg

Most ticklish spots are of course his belly well, ribs, feet & knees, but he’s basically a walking tickle spot

Hands down the most ticklish out of all the lords in black

Swears up a storm & when tickled. Also some pretty severe sounding threats that he’d never actually carry out

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rebelrebelwrites · 11 months

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Fic Friday! ❤️ Rebel’s Weekly Fic Recs

I'm back. 😊 A day and several weeks late, but I'm back. I've decided I'd like to keep doing these as much as I can. I hope anyone reading enjoys.

As always, this week’s recs are…

As always, please mind the tags on any recommended story for your own personal preferences.

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The Classic You’ve Heard Of But Somehow Haven’t Read Yet: About you, without you by @aylana-ryvain

What you need to know going in:

A lovely, sad, sweet one-shot written for Haladriel Week where Galadriel returns to Barad-dûr after Sauron’s defeat at the beginning of the Fourth Age. Once there, she discovers a treasure trove of trinkets crafted by The Dark Lord in the hopes that she would someday change her mind. 🥹 Another tragic instant-classic, this fic wrenches at your heart in the best way. Be ready to bookmark!

Complete, Teen

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The AU You Need to Immerse Yourself In Because, Well, Wow: Someone Taught You Wrong, Kid by @klynnvakarian

What you need to know going in:

The Western AU I never knew I needed! The VIBES in this fic, I tell you—they’re strong, and pitch-perfect. Between the dialogue and the at first tentative, blink-and-you-might-miss-it moments between Hal and Gal, which then blossoms into something that's more matter-of-fact; a frank romance that feels so fitting for this world and time and space for the two of them… it’s lovely. You’ll be swept away the same as they are. Very excited to see the final piece of it!

WIP, Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter and AO3.

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The Complete But Never Forgotten Masterpiece: The Nicest Parts of Hell by @myrsinemezzo

What you need to know going in:

Eru have mercy on my soul, my unprecedented foray into dark fic continues with this gripping, dare I say insidiously enticing fic—and, as always, I mean that in the best way possible. This story settles into your psyche; making you feel just as unhinged as the characters feel. You’re probably asking yourself why, so let me get to the heart of it: the story starts with Galadriel stumbling (practically literally) into Halbrand’s arms… Only problem is, he’s her brother Fin’s boyfriend. 👀 From there, she and Halbrand start a toxic, troubling affair that is impossible to stop reading. (Same goes for this story’s sequel, which is still in progress).

Complete, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter and AO3.

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The WIP That Will Wreck You (In the Best Way): And In That Time, I Have Had Many Names by @the-manatee-hammer

What you need to know going in:

I’ve been meaning to share this fic for a long, long time, and I definitely should’ve done so sooner, so forgive me. Full disclosure: I found out about it from a friend who told me that I’d been mentioned in the notes, so again, forgive me for my slightly unbiased opinion. Regardless of how I came to it, I loved it as soon as I started reading! The story sees Halbrand still injured in the healing halls of Eregion—until Galadriel offers to help along the healing with something he’s never tried before. 👀🔥 Cue sexual healing! Spicy, intimate sexual healing, and I think the first time I encountered a virgin Sauron in fic. And hot damn, it’s hot. Unsurprisingly, Sauron is very eager to learn, and a very adept student. It’s been a while since this was updated, but still so worth checking out and subscribing to for it’s sensuality and supremely well done writing.

WIP, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The Can’t Stop Consuming No Matter What Time It Is Fic: Stand by Me by @scriberated

What you need to know going in:

Lately I’ve been feeling some major burnout for many reasons, and for me, this fic was a balm at just the right moment! A sequel to this adorable one-shot, it’s an instantly delightful, fully-fledged romcom complete with roommates not-so-secretly pining after each other, fake dating, bed sharing, and that’s just within the first two chapters! 🤩 The premise: Hal and Gal are roommates, and after breaking up with her shitty, absent boyfriend Celeborn in the original one-shot, Hal takes care of Gal while she’s sick. This continuation sees Galadriel trying to navigate their growing closeness, finally agreeing to a trip together to visit Hal’s family—and from there, the romcom shenanigans ensue. This is another one where I can’t wait to see what comes next!

WIP, Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter and AO3.

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🤩🤩🤩

Me at all these fics:

Don’t see your story on this list yet? Keyword: yet. Please don’t fret! I can only recommend so many each week, but I am always looking for more stuff to read, share, and generally shower with love, so please feel free to reply with your own fics or your pershaladronal faves. I have plenty more to recommend… ❤️

Until next week!

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gabessquishytum · 11 months

Note

It’s morning here so I wanted to wish you a good morning. I hope you have a wonderful day and you know what a treasure you are for allowing all of us to be insane and horny in your ask box.

While I was driving to work this morning a song came on which - up until now - I didn’t realise was super problematic (English is not my first language and when it was first released in 2011 I didn’t speak a lick of it) but we do love problematic stuff for Dreaming, don’t we?

All things the singer wishes for his love to be kinda fit unhinged Dreamling, but what stuck with me was I often wish that you had feathers, I'd keep you in a giant cage / All day long I'd sit and watch you, I'd sing for you and that would be okay

To imagine Dream as this magnificent creature with wings is all too easy. They’re huge and dark as night. When he moves them and the light hits them just right, you swear you can see entire galaxies of stars reflected in them. But it’s not just the creature’s wings that are mesmerising, it’s the creature, too. Its skin is alabaster white, lithe muscles move underneath with every spin and turn the creature performs in the air. On his head there’s an unruly mop of pitch-black hair, that looks as downy soft as his wings. His lips are pink, perfect to be kissed and he has the most mesmerising electric blue eyes. It’s breathtaking and when Hob sees him for the first time- He knows he must have him.

He has no idea what the creature is, how to approach it and let alone how to capture it, but Hob is nothing if not determined. He finds an old, dilapidated building, nestled in a valley, far away from civilisation. He thinks it might be an old factory, but nature has already started to reclaim it and it’s hard to see. It’s unimportant anyway because this place is perfect for his needs.

He starts building a large cage, more than large enough to house twenty of his mysterious creature, wide enough to he can unfurl his wings without the tips brushing the metal on either side. He lugs wood around, fabric, supplies, every day for weeks and months and after a year, it’s finished: a gilded cage, furnishings fit for a king but a cage nonetheless.

His own quarters are done up as well. They are much more simple but it doesn’t matter anyway. Step one of his plan is complete now and he goes on to step two.

He will capture his creature.

With his bow slung over his shoulder, he sets out to where he saw him first. It’s quite a trek, but he made sure that his hideout would be far away from the creature’s usual grounds.

When he sees Dream again, it’s like a punch to the gut. It shouldn’t be possible, but he might be even more beautiful now that Hob hasn’t seen him in a year than he had been before. And Hob waits. Day in, day out he sits and watches. The creature has friends - or family? - that sometimes join him in the sky, but bar a few occasions he always seems to isolate himself from the rest of them. He’s up there first and leaves last, soaring through the sky long after the sun has set.

Which is when Hob takes his chance. He shoots.

The arrow hits its mark as intended. The creature, caught in the middle of a swoop close to the ground, plummets.

Hob hides his bow and rushed to the side. “Are you hurt?”, he asks, even though it’s perfectly clear Dream is. “Let me help you.”

As was his plan, Hob takes Dream back to the abandoned factory. He laced his arrow with a sedative, so Dream won’t wake during the long track back. He’s heavy to carry but Hob manages and his heart soars when the door of the cage shuts with a decisive click of the lock.

He’s caught him. He’s well and truly caught his mystic creature.

The wound on Dream isn’t fatal, but it’s bad enough that he’s out of it for a few days. Hob takes good care of his treasure, nursing him back to health. During the day he goes out to hunt with traps and a knife, no bow in sight, never a bow, and to collect fruit in the forest. He feeds Dream until he can sit upright and look around. He dresses an redresses his injury until he can stand and take the first wobbling steps after two weeks lying down.

Dream doesn’t speak, at least not in a language Hob can understand. His delicate fingers clutch the bars of the cage and he seems to plead with Hob, but Hob just smiles and watches him. Even here, in the dim light that falls through the patchy roof, and with wings that start to look a little worn from lack of care, Dream is still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He starts bringing back gifts from his hunting trips, little things he thinks might cheer Dream up, who has taken to moping in the corner. He steals a silk robe now that the air has a slight chill to it at night, so Dream won’t be cold. He gifts him a brush-

Dream doesn’t use it on the hair on his head, but rather on his wings. It looks like he’s struggling to reach all the right places, so Hob takes the brush from him to help. The moan Dream lets out when Hob brushes over the scapulars isn’t one of pain but one of pleasure. So he continues until Dream is writhing and shaking and pleading underneath him- Dream comes from this, arching his back gracefully, his cum soiling the silk robe Hob has gifted him. It’s a breathtaking sight. Hob cleans him up before he leaves, taking the robe with him. It smells of his creature and he presses his face to it while he lays back on his own bed, hand around his prick.

It becomes a ritual of theirs after that. Dream tries to retreat every time Hob steps into his cage, but he relents as soon as Hob starts to brush his feathers. He’s face down on the bed and within minutes he’s rubbing his aching cock against the covers for a little relief, fighting the urge to reach for Hob. He acts like he doesn't want this, like he doesn't crave Hob's touch, but really--

And Hob, as soon as he leaves the cage, he’s divesting himself of his clothes, watching Dream’s wings flutter through the aftershocks while he gets himself off imagining how it would feel to kiss those wings while he fucks into him over and over. Maybe next time…

Love, 💄

Oh, darling 💄 anon!!!! This is an absolutely flawless concept and you've captured it so well with your words!!! I can't stop imagining a beautiful winged Dream soaring through the skies all day. Of course Hob would be enamored, driven to madness by beauty. If Hob hadn't caught him then surely someone else would, someone who would treat him far worse.

That's what Hob tells himself anyway. He is so good to his creature, he takes such care over his welfare. Brings him nice things to eat and makes sure he's beautifully groomed. Of course he must see to his creature's other needs too. Dream obviously craves touch and needs to cum as frequently as a man might. Hob is only being kind by helping him...

Dream meanwhile, lives in a kind of in-between mental state. Knowing that this could be so much worse, yet yearning for freedom. Why can't he stop himself from giving in to his captors warm, clever hands? He's afraid of his own feelings. Each day he promises himself that he'll try to escape, and each day passes without an attempt...

Yes, it's a strange life, but Hob is so happy. And his creature seems... content? More so each day. He no longer mopes in the corner. He leans in to Hob’s touch. And each day he grows more and more beautiful. If Hob let him go, he would be more vulnerable to another capture.

Better to keep him safe, then. Besides, Hob knows that once he finally fucks him? His creature won't want to leave. He'll want to be pampered and loved and fucked forever. And Hob fully intends to give him all of that and more.

#💄 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw noncon #cw dubcon #cw monsterfucking

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tilly-tilly-2827 · 28 days

Text

Leave It By Degrees #3

The unhinged love story loosely based on Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost that I can't get out of my head.

Synopsis: "Am I corrupting you?"

A03 post from here!

Previous chapter from here

The night Benedict met the love of his life, had been the crappiest day of his life. The day had started with an ice bucket full of water on his bed, his brother Anthony throwing it over him at 2:30 in the afternoon, shouting Why won’t you wake up?! dragging him rudely into the shower in one arm.

“Do you do this every night?” Anthony angrily shook his fingers at him as he was taken into an ice-cold bath. “I had to drag two hookers and a lad out of your bed an hour ago, do you think I wanted to see that?”

His head still banging with the after-effects, Benedict only rolled his eyes wearily.

“I didn’t ask you to be here, brother. I didn’t even ask you to wake me up.”

Benedict reached out his hand for a joint from the tub, but Anthony smacked off the box with his hands, the joints rolling down the floor.

“Brother, you ruined a perfect pack of my best…”

“I should have never sent you to Art School,” Anthony muttered, his head buried in his hands. “I should have stopped you when you said you weren’t going to join the business and play around with your bohemian cliques.”

“I’m not playing around brother. And this has nothing to do with Art school…”

“Oh, really?” Anthony tilted his head arrogantly. “When did these habits start? The drinks? The smoking? The weed? These goddamn pills?” Anthony opened the bathroom cupboard in a rough swing, slamming the plastic containers from the shelves and into the bin. “What would Mother think if she saw you like this? What would our sisters think? Do you think Father wanted you to be like this? Why keep ruining your own life when Father left you everything you need to pursue your career and waste it? I don’t understand…”

But Anthony noticed that his brother had sunken in silence, his head buried between his knees. Anthony couldn’t see his expression but he knew he pushed it too far. Anthony sighed again, pitching his fingers between his eyebrows.

“Mother wants you at the Ball tonight.”

“I see.”

“You’ll be there at 8 o’clock sharp.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Hearing Benedict’s voice return to his usual sarcastic tone, Anthony left the bathroom, quickly talking to his driver to make sure he leaves his flat on time. Looking at his phone and seeing the missed calls he got from his secretary, he looked up at the clear blue sky. How was he expected to handle everything?

But to his pleasant surprise, Benedict turned up at the ball, clean and shaved in a three-piece suit at 8 o’clock, (although he did forget that it was a masquerade, he ended up borrowing one from the footman.)

“Benedict! You made it!”

Violet, dressed in a beautiful Edwardian dress, smiled at her second son, embracing him in her arms. “Feels like I haven’t seen you ages, dear.”

“But I had dinner at your place last week, mother,”

Benedict gallantly smiled back, placing a small peck on his mother's cheeks.

“Well, you didn’t seem at all like yourself that night.”

Anthony glared from her back, and Benedict gave him a small smirk, he might have been a wee high that night.

“How’s your painting turning out?”

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t ask me that.”

Benedict groaned, but Violet simply placed her hands between Benedict’s cheeks, her sharp blue gaze looking straight into his.

“I worry about you my dear” Softly tapping his cheeks, Violet finally let go of the embrace, “I do hope you enjoy this night. You might have some inspiration.”

“From where I see it, inspiration is everywhere tonight, Mother,”

Violet playfully smacked his shoulders with her fan.

“Don’t be too sarcastic Benedict. You’d never say that if you knew how much it cost,”

The night had been horrific. The worst nightmare he could ever have. Despite wearing a black Demi mask, everyone recognized him with his six-foot figure and the Bridgerton chestnut hair, whispering around him not quite discreetly; he’s the number two. The artist. Ten people had asked him what he was doing with his career, not hearing about him after graduating art school. What are you working on? Does he even work? Why don’t you join the company? Why waste your father's money on nothing? Why waste your life? Every conversation felt like a flick of a knife, mangling his self-esteem with every word. He was barely surviving with glasses of martinis, he needed something stronger to endure the night. If El had been here, he could have sneaked out with her with some lame excuse, but with her still studying abroad in Egypt, and his brother glaring over him like a hawk, he knew taking plight was out of the question. He did participate in the required ballroom dance, but five young ladies had stepped on his shoes while dancing, and one had literally fallen over him, her heels snapping at the dancefloor. Benedict felt rather sympathetic towards her.

But everything changed when he saw her.

He had been lurking in the corner of the hall with a drink in hand, not quite in the mood to engage in a conversation. He glanced at the clock, knowing that if he stayed there for three hours, Anthony would count as participating in a family event. But just when he looked up, on top of the staircase, he saw her. No, it wasn’t just her. She was the beauty, the princess, the Cindella, the Juliet. Shimmering and gleaming in the candlelight, it was almost as if a spotlight was on her specifically, illuminating the dark, bare stage. Her golden locks flowing in waves, her silver dress glowing, the beads shimmering, she was the Vega in the summer night sky. Benedict could only stand there, dazed by her beauty, as if he were struck by a thunderbolt from the sky. But he was also oddly aware that it was not just the appearance he was drawn to, it was her radiant happiness that flowed within her, the bright luminous atmosphere that… she was just so happy to be there.

The next moment, his martini glass shattered on the floor. The next moment, he was running up the stairs. The next moment, he was reaching out his hands for hers.

Wanting to talk to her. Wanting to be close to her. Wanting to see her.

***

But why would she reject him?

Why did she run away?

The thoughts wandered his mind as he took another smoke from his joint. Running fingers through his hair, he contemplated the possibilities; perhaps he had taken it too far too quickly, taking her hand without any permission at all. Perhaps it was his pickup line, had it been too cheesy? But he couldn’t help himself at that moment, words slipping out of his lips unconsciously. Perhaps she wasn’t a big fan of Shakespeare. Perhaps she didn’t like him at all.

Perhaps she truly needed to deliver the shoes.

Benedict chuckled darkly, it was one of the worst rejections he had ever experienced; he was considered less important than a shoe. Well, it isn’t far from the truth, he quietly thought, taking a seat on the battered brick staircases of the back door, staring into the darkness. There was only light from the servants' hallway, casting a dim yellow light from the stained glass windows.

No stars, he dimly thought, looking up in the night sky. Not even the moon. Damn the city lights.

After frantically searching inside the Bridgerton House for the Lady in Silver, he just needed a quick break, (and he was also quite heartbroken by her excuse, needed to deliver shoes? The lamest excuse a person could think of!) he had taken refuge in his secret hideaway, the servant’s entrance that he often hid when he was a teenager, when he wanted to be left alone from his bustling energetic siblings. To enjoy the quietness.

He actually liked that place, he thought to himself as he seated himself on the stairs, softly tracing the weed growing from the crack of the tiles. His mother and Anthony did careful maintenance around the house, but he knew the downstairs servant area tended to be left alone. The wilderness and the desolation he felt in the back garden was something he felt drawn to, not the perfect ordinated decoration on the upper floor.

Maybe I should go back to the ball to find her. There was a spark between them, but it wasn’t just sparks, he thought. It was fireworks, the anticipation he had felt towards her. He knew that he needed her, the way he needed air.

Maybe I’m being too dramatic.

He was quite lost in his thoughts and a little bit too high on weed when the door crept open behind him,

“Oh.” It was a small quiet voice.“It’s you.”

The joint slipped off from his fingers, the cannabis scattered on the broken tiles.

“It’s you.”

It was the same girl, the Lady in Silver, his Cindella, his Juliet. Blond hair, silver dress, black mask, a soft smell of lavender, she was the exact one he had been searching for. Her emerald green eyes sparkling even in just the faintest light. Such a beauty, the thought popped again, but he did also notice that her shoulders, and also her presence were incredibly slight and delicate, so delicate it would shatter even in just one soft touch.

“...I thought this was the back door.”

Her voice was timid, hesitant.

“It is, it is.” He answered hastily, quickly standing up and wiping his ash-stained hands with his suit. It was the reunion he had been wishing for a few minutes ago, but he wasn’t exactly hoping to see her when he was devouring himself in indecent habits. Not the best second impression.

“Hi, I’m Benedict,” He took out his hand, and his heart leaped as her hands intertwined. “ I apologize I didn’t start with an introduction.”

“Hi, I’m…” Her voice trailed off in an awkward silence. Embarrassment to the family name, Araminta’s voice refrained in her ears, and she found herself at quite a loss for the next words.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Pardon?”

“Right there. A cut.”

Tilting his head ever so slightly, he tapped his left cheek. Her fingers reflexively followed his movement, but she could only feel her skin, nothing special, nothing odd.

“The other side,” A teasing grin was on his dashing face as he took a handkerchief from his pocket, gently pressing it on her right cheek, “That’ll leave a nasty mark.”

Softly tracing her cheeks over his silk handkerchief, Sophie finally noticed the cut that went from her cheeks to the corner of her lips. Overwhelmed with emotion, she didn’t notice the sharp pain that burned her skin or the trickling blood. Must have been the nails, she thought, remembering the sharp plastic the salons had glued onto her stepmother’s fingers.

“Wait here, don’t go anywhere.”

She should have left, at that moment. However, she found herself quite frozen at the door, still dazed by the fact that Prince Charming was in front of her, talking to her, acknowledging her.. How ironic, she thought. Araminta had kicked her out of the back door, only to give her a chance to meet with the man of her dreams again. A few minutes later, her Prince Charming was back with a first aid kit and seated her next to him on the brick staircase as he tended to her bruise.

“Who did this to you?”

“I’m, I…I fell from the stairs?”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

Their eyes met, just for a second and Sophie blushed, staring down at her shoes.

“…It was rather lame, wasn’t it?”

Benedict grinned, shaking his head as he gently wiped her wound with a wet cloth. Sophie didn’t mind the ache, but almost gasped when he placed his other hand gently on her neck, knowing that she must be burning in crimson.

“Very. Give me another one.”

“Tripped over a dress?”

“Terrible.”

“Accidentally grazed myself on the wall?”

“You’re the worst liar..”

“Attacked by my evil stepmother?”

He suddenly stopped, his eyebrows slightly lowering.

“Absurd, but that did sound most realistic.”

“Perhaps I am a good liar after all,”

The corner of her lips tightened into a grin, but Benedict couldn’t see the glee in her eyes.

“There,” He gave a satisfied huff as he pressed the bandage over the cut. He had been very tentative; despite his large hands, his fingers had worked skillfully, gently cleaning the wound with the softest touches.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

Narrowing her eyes shyly, she fidgeted with her hands, not knowing what to do next. She must look awfully rude, she thought, not introducing herself, when the man in front of her had done so much, tending to her with the greatest care.

“Perhaps you could thank me by telling me your name?”

His deep ocean eyes peering into hers, Sophie saw the change in the tide; the color of the waves becoming darker, the darkness holding a particular gleam.

“I’d love to, but I really can’t.”

“Why so?”

Because I should be a nobody, words almost slipped out of her mouth but she instantly stopped, changing her face into a hopefully enigmatic smile.

“I thought tonight was a night for secrets,” Sophie said, softly tapping her demi mask with her fingers.

“How about we make more secrets between us?”

Sophie suddenly noticed that his hands were on her thighs, his thumb softly drawing circles against her dress. Before she could stop him, his hand slipped to her waist, tugging her closer, making them only an inch apart. His fingers softly caressed the edge of her lips, Sophie couldn’t breathe, she was sinking in his touch, his eyes that burned with desire, the flaming fire dancing in the dark fathomless ocean deep,

“Let me take you deeper, my lady.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

The voice behind them had a teasing tone, but the two jumped apart at least a foot. Benedict groaned in irritation when he saw his baby brother pop his head out from the door with a cocky grin on his face.

“Perfect timing Colin, you couldn’t have picked a better moment.” He snared sarcastically, but Colin only laughed, leaning against the door as he took a finger biscuit out of his pocket, popping it in his mouth in just one bite.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment to leave the party, dear brother.” He continued in a light tone, “Anthony asked me to find you, seemed furious at you, by the way. And mother as well. Didn’t you promise a dance with Pen? I had to take your place by the way…”

As he rambled on while munching on another sandwich that appeared from nowhere, Benedict managed to push his brother behind the door, shoving him into the hallway.

“Brother, just for this night. Have my back here.” Seizing his brother by the lapels, Benedict gritted through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down.

“Who’s the girl?”

“No idea,”

“Quite scandalous brother.” He grinned mischievously. Benedict raised his eyebrows dubiously as his brother took a deep breath, “I’M COLIN BY THE WAY…”

“SHUT UP! WHAT ARE YOU…”

“HE SEEMS BESOTTED IN YOU…”

Benedict slammed the door shut behind him, feeling his knuckles turn white. He took a deep breath.

“The joints are hidden behind the landscape painting on the third-floor stair landing.”

“You have a deal, brother.”

Colin took out his hand with a satisfied grin but Benedict slapped it off. But Colin only laughed wholeheartedly, swiftly readjusting his collar. Pausing slightly, Colin threw something at him from his pocket, Benedict catching it at the last second. The familiar plastic silver wrapper now in his hand.

“Better be safe than sorry,”

“I had one in my pocket,”

“Enjoy the second round then,” Colin shrugged as he walked back to the servants' staircases. “And thank me later!”

Benedict, Anthony. Colin. Anthony. Anthony Bridgerton.

The sibling banterings all forgotten, Sophie finally connected the knots that had been spread before her.

Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton. Her Prince Charming had been a Bridgerton. Sophie could feel the color draining from her face as she repeated his full name, knowing how furious Araminta would be if she had known she had spoken to him. Maybe she would kill me this time,

As soon as Benedict returned from the door, Sophie hastily stood up, picking up the hems of her skirt.

“I…I have to go.”

She tried to slip away, but he instinctively grabbed her arm, slightly wincing at the thinness. He quickly dropped his grasp, seeing the instant terror in her moss-green eyes.

“Sorry,” He blurted out, feeling himself redden. “I’m kind of…drunk.”

“Oh,”

“Am I scaring you?”

“No, no. It's just that…I didn’t know that you were a Bridgerton.”

“Does me being a Bridgerton scare you so?”

He gave a teasing smile, an effort to continue the seduction but she took a step away, the distance between them widening. Not quite the reaction he was hoping for, he quietly thought to himself as he returned his gaze. Her flushed face was now white as a sheet, also noticed that her fingers were twitching nervously. He didn’t expect hugs and kisses from the bashful girl, but he knew that there was some attraction in the Family name; knowing that some people would drool by even mentioning the surname.

“Shouldn’t you return to the party?” Sophie asked timidly, “Your brother said that Anthony was looking for you.”

“Shouldn’t you be back at the party as well?”

“...I got kicked out.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not needed here.”

“Same here,” He desperately wanted a puff of a joint, but instead, he took a cigarette from his pocket, expertly lightening up the head with a lighter. “My brother only requires me to be there. That doesn’t mean that he truly wants me back up there.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I’m an embarrassment to the family.”

What in the hell was he rambling on about? To the girl he just met? If it was the intoxication or the weed he did not know, but he found himself spilling the words, just like when he had first talked to her on the staircase;

“I’m the typical prodigal son. Doing absolutely nothing with my life. Wasting the family money with some useless..art.”

“I didn’t know you were an artist.” Her voice was quiet.

“You’d think less of me if you see my work,” Benedict darkly chuckled, inhaling the smoke into his lungs. “I’m an imposter. Everything I do, Everything I paint, is an imitation. Backward compatibility of some masterpiece. Nothing special, nothing original, no anything. Wasted my brother's money, my father's money…on nothing at all.”

“So you drink and smoke and get high because you can’t create a masterpiece and you think you're wasting precious money?”

Quite straightforward, he thought. But there was no judgment in her voice. It was rather like stating simple facts, not like the tone he spoke at the party, the voices dripping with judgment and sarcasm.

“Well. Yes. Precisely.” He clumsily answered. “Why did you know I was high?”

“The smell lingers.” She said softly, the corner of her lips tightening slightly.

God, he must be leaving a terrible impression on her. High and drunk, a privileged git who doesn’t know what he’s doing…

“You think very highly of yourself,”

“Pardon?”

“I said you think very highly of yourself. Thinking that you can create a masterpiece, a legacy.”

“B, but, but,” He somehow found himself stuttering, grasping for words, “I’m an artist, I should be making something that means something, that inspires and amazes everyone,”

“You’re reaching for the stars, Benedict.” She quietly said. “And I believe that it’s killing you. You have to breathe, Benedict.”

He sat there quite frozen, not knowing how to react.

“Maybe you don’t have to reach for the stars.”

Just keep painting what you want, some day you’ll find a spark. If you keep practicing you’ll improve. The more you age, the more it gets better. People around him have shared wisdom during his artistic slump, but her words were not quite what he had expected. Her words sank into his soul, a ring of ripples spreading out from where her words dropped.

“I said something terribly foolish, didn’t I?”

“No, no.” Benedict quickly put out the cigarette, distinguishing it with his foot; “I found it rather…inspiring.”

Sophie softly smiled into the distance, feeling the warm summer wind on her cheeks.

“Has anyone told you that you’re quite observant?”

She shook her head, a sad smile across her lips, “I only get told that I’m a worthless git,”

“You? You seemed to be an accomplished lady, unlike me.”

“How would you ever know that?”

“The way you manage yourself, the way you talk…”

“Benedict, I’m wearing an evening dress with Converses. Do you think I’m accomplished at all? I’m a mess!”

She wasn’t lying. Tugging the hems of the dress, he saw a rather batted pair of sneakers, the moss-green material flicked with dirt. Benedict burst into laughter. He had expected her to be wearing a glass slipper or some kind, given the ethereal nature that surrounded her, or at least an expansive pair of heels.

“Why would you wear that with such a beautiful dress?!” He managed to wheeze out between laughs. He was almost getting breathless, his eyes watering with tears. “That combination has to be the most absurdist thing I saw tonight.”

“I’m a mess,” She grinned mischievously, “Like you.”

Looking back at that night after four years, Benedict regretted he had chosen to get high. Or the fact he had chosen to be drunk. If he hadn’t, he would have remembered every word that she had said, every expression that appeared on her face. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the color of her eyes. But the only thing he could remember was her blond hair, the silver dress and those damn Converses, and the sad smile she had on her lips.

“It must be nice to have a dream like yours. To create a masterpiece.” She softly said.

“Don’t you have a dream?”

“No, not really.”

“Didn’t you have something you wanted to be when you grew up?”

“No,” She spoke in bits and pieces, as if she were carefully picking up the broken pieces. “I…I’ve just survived, you know? I’m so busy surviving that I don’t have the energy to dream.”

Benedict softly reached out his hands, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. She let out a small giggle and squirmed, She must be ticklish, he thought.

“So I think it’s beautiful. To be an artist. To create something. To make something alive in the world.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re perfect.”

“You’re being silly.”

“I think I love you.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re incredibly impulsive?”

“Every day of my life.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe I am just hallucinating.”

“I believe you are.”

The wry smile spread across her lips.

“Would you like to join me?”

“Join you for what?”

“Get high? Enjoy the hallucinations?”

“I’d love to but I don’t really… smoke weed.”

“I have a pack of cigarettes if you want?”

There was a hesitant look on her face but she took his offer. With a cigarette between her lips, she clumsily lit up the head with a lighter. She coughed and gasped as she took the puff, feeling her throat burn with smoke.

“Was it your first time smoking?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that.”

“My dear, you were so obvious.” Benedict smiled, softly shaking his head. “You'll get used to it. Try taking another. Don’t rush it. Take it slow.”

The second time, she tried to take in slowly as he had told her, taking a steady intake to her lungs. Holding in the smoke for just a second, slowly she exhaled, the white smoke watering her eyes. Surprisingly, she didn’t cough this time, instead there was a certain dizziness as if she were floating two inches above the ground.

“This might actually be pretty good.”

“Did I just corrupt an innocent soul?”

“Why would you think I’m innocent?”

“I can see it in everything you do.”

“You’ve barely known me for ten minutes.”

“Sometimes you only need a second to know that the person is the one.”

Everything was silent between them. The bustling London streets, the party chatter from above, the distant music from the speakers, everything melted into complete silence. For a moment they simply looked in their eyes, it must have been only a second, but for Sophie, it felt like an eternity.

“Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think.”

Without any further thought, Sophie grabbed the dark green tie and pulled it close, placing her lips on hers. It was the boldest thing that she had ever done, but she would never regret it, feeling the warmth, the sweetness of his lips. She knew it was a clumsy kiss, how her teeth clattered to him, feeling a slight smile appear across his lips.

“So you are really innocent.”

With those words he deepened the kiss, softly placing his hand on the nape of her neck.

It was too rushed, too desperate, too impulsive when he looked back. He should have taken her to his flat, or at least to a bedroom, ravishing her in the most tender way possible, but at that moment, all he could think was how he could be closer to her, more connected to her in the quickest way possible. She moaned as he pressed her against the brick walls, grinding his hot hips against hers, her breath hitched as he grabbed her bottom with one hand, the other undoing his belt.

“Shouldn’t this be more of a third date thing?” He managed to gasp between breaths, but his words were sealed by another wave of kisses.

“No,” She rasped, her fingers tugging at his curls, “I need you right now, right here.”

Benedict could still her hot breath next to his ear as he stumbled inside her, her arms tightly gripped around her neck, her nails biting into his skin.

Benedict could still hear her. Benedict could still see her. Benedict could still feel her.

Yet he didn’t even know her name. Yet he felt he knew everything about her.

It was a beautiful summer day, the day after he met the love of his life. The first day of June. The radio told him that it was the first sunny day with clear skies in three weeks, and at 7:00 am in his London studio, the warm sunlight shone from the windows onto the white canvas that stood in front of him, waiting for him to be filled with the wonders of the world. It had been a while since he even entered the studio, much less holding a brush in his hands. Could he do it? He still felt the pain of abandonment, the love he felt slipping out from his fingers.

Don’t reach for the stars. Breathe.

With the refrain of her voice, Benedict took the brush tightly in his hands.

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benophie #sophie beckett #an offer from a gentleman #benedict x sophie #benophie fics #bridgerton fanfiction

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nihoniums-oc-emporium · 2 years

Text

QUADRANTS MASTERPOST

Here I'll post abt quads I'm thinking of/ generally would want for my characters <3

note that if a character isn't featured, it doesn't mean they're completely closed off, but that I don't have any clear idea as to what I'd want rn!

Also these are ideas I had but I'm not too strict w/ them!

This will also be updated as things go!

Lillic :

• Matesprit / Moirail : Spetin is already in a strange pale/flushed relationship with her. And I can hardly see someone w/ her that way ... That said I'm not closed off, just picky x'3

• Kismesis : I think the idea of Lillic having a Kismesis is very interesting... Someone she'd consider so vile/ annoying that even HER manage to hate them... would probably have to be insulting her friends first to get there

Spetin :

• Matesprit / Moirail : Same situation as Lillic !

• Kismesis : a sort of art rival would be interesting, someone challenging her views and skills.. or someone who'd bring her old FLARP fighting spirit up!

Slatum :

• Matesprit : yes. Ok but seriously, someone who's as passionate and devoted in love as her, who's very similar and Would embrace her unhinged side.

• Moirail : Honestly anyone who'd genuinely support her / be patient enough with her... Maybe someone that can mellow her out a little

• Kismesis : LITERALLY anyone who's a pitch whore and unhinged like her. I need worsies who'd try to one up eachother in term of kill count .... Noi and Shin dorohedoro type of beat.

Jack :

• Matesprit : Jack's type is simple : people with a similar aesthetic to him that he thinks are cool, and big,strong, kind and a lil stupid buff men. also someone Flirty BC it's funny. Honestly he deserves someone sweet in his life.

• Kismesis : a PRICK a smug ASSHOLE who'd tease him and be way too hot for it to be legal. He'd hate that and I love it.

Maud :

• She's aro/ace but I'm using this spot to say she needs some friends :(

Organes :

• Matesprit : GIRLBOSS by GOD. A girlboss would be perfect. They would do fucked up girlboss things together.

• Kismesis : Science rival ....ough.

• Bonus : Someone who just REALLY like experimenting on her / being experimented on.

Lunole :

• Matesprit / Moirail : Someone as weird as them. Creeps and Weirdos are all welcomed for these quadrants.

• Kismesis : Someone who either doesn't Believe in lunole's powers or hate thset powers with a passion...

Nexxum :

• Once again, Ace/Aro, but I think she deserves fucked up science friends too. Or anyone who'd hire her skills for things :3c I just wanna explore those narratives

The Trapper :

• I don't have any clear ideas for Quads I just want him to adopt a pathetic wet mop of a troll. Someone he could call his kid. That'd be cute.

#masterpost #quadrant #profile #long post #i am NOT tagging everyone #will add this to the intro post tho

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liopleurodean · 7 months

Text

Season 11, Episode 12: Don't You Forget About Me

I know this song is known because of The Breakfast Club, but to me it will always be the Pitch Perfect song

A Jody episode?

Fair enough

Sure

Uh oh

That's freaky

Claire?

Is that an angel blade?

Claire...

What?

They screwed up the captions on that

Aw, yeah

Gotta unhinge your jaw to eat that

Come on Sam, the calorie thing is a scam

Ooh, that's right! I still need to watch that movie

Uh oh

Fun

Definitely still around

Good for her

Soccer?

Yikes

I guess it's better than monsters?

Great question

Hugs all around!

Ooh, boy

Eh, it's not too much trouble

That looks delicious

They live off of diner food

Awesome

Nice try

Don't encourage her

Yikes

I'm so sorry

She did not!

Right in front of the salad

Dean is invested

Oh no

This is great

You sure about that?

Sam and Dean are the best parts of this conversation

I guess so

Whoa!

Wrap it before you tap it

Dean, please

Okay then

Yeah, fair

Boil em, mash em, stick em in a stew

YEAH IT IS

Life of a parent

I KNOW THIS BLOOPER

Yikes

Did it?

Yeah, I bet

Dean might be able to help

Yeah

Mm, I would disagree

Fair

Right.

No, never!

And definitely not the last

Maybe. Maybe not

Oh, Claire...

Please don't

Give it another chance

Uh oh, math teacher is out

You definitely won't

That's horrifying

Aside from the death, it almost feels like a high-tier senior prank

What is that?

Well...

Just give it a second

Claire, that's not the point!

Exactly

Shovel talk

Fun times

Oookay

Yeah...

It's still the dead body

Oh boy

A bar?

Yeah

That's one way to put it

Not just people

Hah! Buddy, you have no idea

Is she going to tell?

Honey, it wasn't your fault

He means well

Cute

That's interesting

Fishy

Not gonna fly

Poor Jody

Normal people

Uh oh

Oh, that's not good!

He's taking Claire

Dean, hurry!

It's too late

Yeah

That's good

I've been there!

Oh, it's personal

Stay put

Dang it, I really hoped

Dean, please use a parking space

Always leaving the phones behind

They're closing in

It's storage for food

Doesn't feel so nice anymore

Poor Alex

Strange, isn't it? I wonder what happened

Well, he wasn't entirely wrong

Why didn't they finish him off?

Poor guy

She couldn't.

So he had to give her everything first

Where are they?

Nice, Claire

Too many

Speaking of, where are Sam and Dean?

Not exactly

Alex, no...

Claire!

Hurry, Sam!

This is not going well

Dean...

Oh boy

Dean to the rescue

Don't try to move

Have fun

Disgusting.

Good riddance

Bonding moment!

Aw, cute

It's not your fault

Exactly

Hey, I know the Impala when I hear it!

Yup

And those are the Impala doors

Maybe

Good enough

Yeah, fair

Absolutely

I guess so

It's traumatic

Please do not put that on Baby

Oh, that is a GORGEOUS sound

On the road again

#ashla chick flick moments #supernatural #season 11 episode 12 #dont you forget about me #don't you forget about me

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madammuffins · 1 year

Text

LET'S DO SOME SCIENCE- PT 24

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Bad Future Timeline, Main Character Death, Angst, No Happy Endings, Kraang Invasion

Links: AO3, Wattpad, Playlist

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

"Atrocious."

The words slipped silently from Donatello's lips.

Your squad stood in horrified shock, guns lowered, eyes frozen to the pods full of alien suspension liquid.

Children.

Mutated children. Bodies were somewhere between human, robot, and kraang.

"Don-"

But your General stepped forward, fingers touching a tank softly, eyes raking over the child within.

A rumble from above seemed to launch him into action. Fingers on his free hand tapped on his visor, a soft hum.

"Viable. The merging of tech and organic material is nearly seamless. Human. Th-three." He leaned in closer. "Incredible." Disdain dripped from his words.

"Master?"

Startled, Donatello leaned away from the faintly pink glowing tube. Blinking. Looking at Junior grabbing onto his pant leg tightly. Pale. Smiling weakly.

"What's that mean?"

"That means," Donatello looked up at his brother. Desperation etched into every scale, "we need to get you out of here."

The building trembled again as though to emphasize your general's point. Guns rose as your gazes snapped to attention.

"General, Lieutenant." You looked over at your commanding officer as they stepped over some wires. "It looks like we activated some kind of possible self-destruct?"

You watched the brothers share a look of dread. Donatello picked the child up, shoving Junior into Michelangelo's hands in a fluid motion.

"What?" The orange mystic snapped, holding his nephew close as he glared at his brother. Donatello turned sharply back towards the tubes holding the children.

"We have to try, Mikey." A desperation in the General's voice you hadn't heard before. "We have to-"

"Donnie!" Mikey snapped as his brother frantically began pushing buttons on his bracer, screens popping up as he took to hovering, the motors of his battle shell silently propelling him around, Mikey following him fervently. "We gotta-"

"They're kids, Michael!" Donatello finally snapped.

Loud, echoing. Eyes unwavering, piercing. Determined.

All eyes swiveled to the General.

"They-they're just kids." A hoarseness taking over his voice, barely trembling hands knitting together. "I have to try. I failed last time. I failed."

Mikey was silent for a minute.

Junior clinging to his uncle, confused. Looking between them. Michelangelo's gaze dropped to his nephew. Arms tightening, cradling the child's head to his shoulder. Smiling sadly, an attempt to comfort. He nodded, looking back up to his brother.

"Okay." Soft, sorrowful.

Knowing.

But Donatello beamed at the chance for redemption. "Really?"

Michelangelo nodded, ponytail bobbing, now primarily grey. "Okay." A sigh as he retreated. "Take some with you-"

You stepped forward, three others joining you simultaneously.

Donatello looked you all over, nodded. "Perfect." Expression turned serious as he hit a button on his visor, by his ears. Voice pitched up slightly. An orb launched from his shell. "Now," a beat thrummed out into the air as you watched the rest follow Mikey's golden glow.

Fading into the darkness.

Apprehension rising in you as Donatello's music slowly grew in volume. Attention snapped back to him as a deep bass made the very air around you tremble. His mouth spread thin and wide in a wicked smirk. Knuckles cracked. Sleeves pushed up past his elbows.

Goggles dropped over his eyes and screens doubled around him, glinting and reflecting graphs, numbers, charts. His chuckle slightly unhinged as fingers fell over the massive control board.

"Let's do some science."

#fanfiction #madammuffins fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt bad timeline #kraang invasion timeline #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt casey junior #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt future donnie #rottmnt future mikey

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flwrbo · 3 years

Text

put on a show (you’ll enjoy)

cw : impact play, fear play, unhinged tendou, facefucking, pictures during sex, minor manga timeskip spoilers, if im missing any please let me know!

its always just been you, tendou, sex and a camera. what else would you need?

photographer! tendou & photographer! reader

1.5k words | all characters are 18+ mdni

You hear the shutter of the camera before you see it. Satori pulls the picture out from the ejector and begins to flap it in his hands gently with a wolfy grin on his face. You, of course, are the prey.

It’s late in Paris and the moon pours in from the little window you have in the corner. You kick his hip softly and nudge your head towards the window. “I don’t want another noise complaint,” Tendou grabs your ankle in his hand and traces his lips along the bone there. He lets out a breath-filled chuckle as he stares down your body.

A bruised finger runs down your pantie-covered slit. “Maybe I should photograph this instead,” He pulls you towards from, using your legs, and angles his camera towards you again. Your hands immediately go up to cover your face in embarrassment but the shutter of the camera doesn’t ring through the room as you expected. The only way you know Tendou is still with you is the feeling of his body holding your bottom half up, with his hand tracing your right thigh. “Take your heads off your face,” His voice is low. You pause for a second and then shake your head. “Now,” He says your name with a grovel that makes chills roll down your body.

The soft tracing on your thigh turns mean and you can feel his fingers grip into the fat of your leg there. “‘Tori,” you peak between your fingers. “Please.”

“Take your fucking hands off your face now. I’m not gonna repeat myself again,” Bruises to have already started to form on your upper legs. You bite your lip and hiss in pain as you slowly remove your hands from your face. You can feel the tears in your eyes start to spring up from embarrassment. If Tendou notices, it doesn’t seem as if he cares. “Look at you…” he trails as he brings his hand up to your face and gently caresses it. The camera is angled towards your face and the picture is taken. He sets it to the side, out of harm’s way, and then turns his full attention towards you. “You…” Hands rub up and down your inner thighs and you feel your heartbeat start to speed up. “Are so beautiful. My sweet, sweet…” He sets your legs down and pushes himself to brace his body over yours. He leans in towards your ear. “Sweet little girl,”

He grounds his hips into yours and you feel his steadily rising bulge. Your breath catches and your eyes fall shut. You’re wet and you both know it. “What’s this?” He asks, grinding harder. “Did me being mean make your little pussy weep?” That wolf grin of his is back.

When you met Tendou years ago at his little chocolate shop, you were new to the city. He showed you around, and let you hang around him like a lost puppy dog until you got into the swing of things in Paris. By the time you were comfortable to branch out and make new friends, it was too late. You two were infatuated with one another. Late at night in his shop when the closed sign was flipped towards the street, he’d share unsold sweets at the bar over swapped childhood stories. You learned all about each other’s shared interests, like photography and sex and running around the city at night under the influence. You guys were magnetic and dated for ten months before you decided it was time to just move in together. Those first few nights together, it was just you, him and a mattress on the floor where you two would talk for hours. There, he found out everything about you from your flaws, to your fears, to your kinks, and your dreams. In return, you learned his favorite memories, and his desires, and old stories from his schooldays.

“I was known for having… crazy, intense eyes. They would call me a demon,” he spoke into your chest one night as you laid naked. “A monster.”

You place your hand under his chin and raise his face to look at you. “That’s not true, Satori. You’re not a monster,” His eyes soften for a moment and a gleam sparks in his eyes - before they harden.

“You don’t know that yet.”

In the two years you’ve been with him, you’ve only ever seen the eyes his old teammates talked about late at night: when your body was trembling under his.

Like now.

“You like when I bruise you?” his hand comes up to cup your jaw in a harsh grip. Your eyes are wide as you look up at him. “Huh?”

“Yesth-“ he shakes your head up and down. “Yes, Shu-Tori.” Your diction slurs as his hand smushes your face.

“Mhm.” Those eyes look into yours as his body covers yours. He reels his hand back and smacks you, hard, on your cheek. “We needed some color in the shot, princess,” He rubs his right hand over while his left-hand reaches over for the camera. “Say cheese,” He aims the camera towards you and jerks your head straight forward by your hair. He looks at the picture as it comes out and flaps it around again. “My pretty princess,” He kisses along your neck and sucks bruises there. “Picture perfect,”

Your head falls to the side as you grant him more room to suck into. He pushes your underwear to the side as he runs his fingers across your slit. Soaking wet. He sucks his digits into his mouth lewdly and leans down to push his boxers down. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you look at him in front of you. “Please,” You ask, leaning forward into him. He hums and pushes your head back, dropping his forehead onto yours softly.

“You wan’ to suck my cock?” He asks.

“Mhm,” You give him pleading eyes as you nod your head. Tendou straightens his back and spits on his cock.

“C’mere, then.” He drags your head down to his cock and runs his pre-come-covered tip on your lips. You open your mouth and he slips himself along your tongue. He curses under his breath before sinking all the way to the back of your throat. You can feel where his cock tickling your uvula and resist the urge to cough. Against your better judgment, you try to pull your head back. Tendou wraps his hands in your hair and brings you all the way down to the base.

“Fuck.” He hisses through his teeth and starts to drag your mouth back and forth on his cock. “You like that? You fucking whore.” He pulls your head off of him and you cough. “C’mon, baby,” he rubs his hand against your cheek softly while you regain your breath. You nod your head and lean forward to take him back inside. Sucking your cheeks in, you feel more of him sink into your mouth and you groan - making Tendou moan and pitch his hips forward. The first one startled you, and you tried to brace yourself as he kept up his pace of fucking your throat. You feel tears slide down your face as you gag continuously. Your eyes are burning and you have no choice but to shut them. Tendou pinches your nose and you push yourself away from him. You feel the panic rise in your chest until he finally lets go of your nose and you pull back with the tip of his dick still on your tongue as you take a few deep breaths.

Tendou reaches a hand down and frees your breasts from the shirt you’re wearing before he rolls your nipples in his fingers. “You’re so good for me baby,” He groans as you start suckling on his head again. Your eyes slip shut again, tired. You hear Tendou say your name, and when your eyes snap open, there’s a flash. Tendou’s holding the camera up as his cock rests in your throat. “This might be my favorite shot,” He pulls the picture out.

Retracting himself from your mouth, he pushes you back gently onto your back. Your now-soiled underwear is pulled down while Tendou squeezes his cock around the base while he looks down at you. You looked good enough to devour with your flushed, wet face and your half-naked body shaking below him. The fear on your face was enough to make him nearly blow his load all over your pretty, unstuffed cunt.

He lays down and manhandles you in a sitting position over him. “This is how it’s gonna work, m’kay?” He pumps his cock a few times. “You’re gonna take off your dirty little panties and ride my cock like a good little girl,” His slender hand reaches over for the discarded camera. “And I’m gonna take pictures of how slutty you look while you do.” He faces the camera towards you and you prepare yourself for the next hour as you pull your ruined undies down your thighs.

#<3.s.t #<3.smut #tendou x reader smut #haikyuu smut #tw.impact play #tw.fearplay

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myveryownfanfiction · 4 years

Photo

I leaned back on the couch at Central Perk. Having just gotten off work, I looked forward to enjoying coffee and my friends’ company.

“Do you want a refill (Y/N)?” Gunther asked. I nodded as Gunther poured more coffee into my cup.

“Thanks Gunther.” I smiled as he moved back behind the counter. The door to the coffee shop opened and I turned around as the voices of my friends rose above the din of Central Perk.

“All I’m saying is it isn’t fair to just leave them both at the shelter.” Chandler’s voice faltered for a second. “I had to do something.”

“You could have given me the duck at least.” Monica joked. “It would have fed Joey for a day.” She sat down across from me after hugging me from behind. I smiled over at her while Chandler took a seat next to me.

“That’s what I’m saving him from!” He exclaimed. I giggled as he draped his arm over my soldiers. “Take my side here (Y/N).” Chandler kissed my temple before looking at me expectantly.

“Sorry Mon.” I gave her a small smile. “Chandler’s got a point.” Monica laughed and gave me a knowing smile as I leaned back on Chandler. I blushed as Chandler kissed my head again. We made idle chatter as we waited for the others.

“Hey guys.” Rachel greeted as she sat down at the small table. Phoebe and Joey came in next. Joey took a seat on the other side of me while Phoebe went to set up for her set.

“Where’s Ross?” Rachel asked after we had all settled in.

“He said he had some last minute things to take care of at the museum.” I filled in as Joey got up to call Ross.

“How do you know that?” Chandler asked.

“He called my apartment and left a message.” I shrugged. Joey sat back down and pulled my feet into his lap.

“He’s going to be incredibly late.” He said as I snuggled back into Chandler due to the new position I was in. Chandler moved his arms so he was hugging me. “What did you do today (Y/N)?” I sighed as Chandler rubbed my arm.

“I got yelled at by the manager and then to top it all off my computer restarted in the middle of an important project when the project didn’t save.” I rolled my eyes as Joey patted my leg. “So I have to restart it all tomorrow and hope that my computer doesn’t crash or restart again.”

“You could always work on it on my laptop and print it out so you have a back up.” Chandler offered. I looked back at him.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Chandler nodded.

“Of course. Anything to help.” He smiled down at me before getting up. “While this is very interesting, I do need the bathroom.” I leaned back against the back of the couch again.

“Serious talk before he gets back.” Rachel said before glancing in the direction Chandler went. “When are you going to make a move (Y/N)?” I blushed as Monica and Phoebe nodded in agreement.

“Why would (Y/N) make a move?” Joey asked before looking at me blushing and covering my face. “Oh!” It clicked for him as I shook my head.

“How about never?” I mumbled out as Joey rubbed my shin. “It’ll never work and our friendship would be ruined.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret but you can’t let him know that you know I know you know.” I looked at Joey confused before deciding to just agree with him.

“Ok.” I nodded. “What secret?” Joey squeezed my ankle and smiled.

“He likes you too.” Joey told me excitedly. “He told me and Ross once when we had all gotten really drunk at one of Monica’s parties. Chandler couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.” I blushed and shook my head.

“Yeah right Joe.” I said. Rachel leaned over and patted my shoulder. Phoebe patted my leg from her spot on the floor. “Just drop it guys.” Everyone nodded as Chandler came back.

“Drop what?” He asked as he took his place behind me again. Joey looked at Monica while Phoebe looked at Rachel. “Come on guys. Don’t stop on my account.” I took pity on him.

“We were trying to get Rachel to admit to what it is like dating Ross but she didn’t want to answer so I told them to drop it.” I shrugged. Chandler nodded before putting his chin on my shoulder and resting his head against mine. We sat through Phoebe’s set before heading back upstairs. “Could I get started on my work tonight?” I asked as we headed up to Monica’s apartment. Chandler nodded as we reached their hallway.

“Sure. I’ll keep you company.” He said as Joey nudged him. Chandler shot Joey a look before sending one to the girls. “If Ross shows up, let him know where we are.”

“Will do.” Monica smiled at me before going into her apartment and dragging Joey in with her.

“Don’t stay up too late, you two.” Rachel winked at me and I shook my head, thankful Chandler had his back turned as he unlocked the door to his and Joey’s apartment.

“Laptop’s in my room.” Chandler said as he held the door open for me. “I’ll go get it.”

“Do I want to know why it’s in your room or should I just leave you to close any tabs you don’t want me to see?” I joked as I sat at his counter.

“Very funny (Y/N).” Chandler said, walking out of his room with the laptop. “You know how to work this. I’m just going to change and I’ll be back out.” I nodded as I took it from him and set it up.

“Thanks again for this Chandler.” I said. “You don’t know how much this saves me.” He emerged from his room again in a sweater.

“I’ve had this issue at work before.” Chandler sympathized as he put his hands on my shoulders. We watched the screen boot up and Chandler started to massage my back. “That’s partly why I bought the laptop.” I nodded and leaned my head back against Chandler’s chest, enjoying the massage he was giving me. “Are you going to spend the night?” I nodded with my eyes closed.

“If it’s alright with you.” I mumbled. “Joey will be fine with it, you know that.” Chandler laughed.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Could he be anymore obvious?” I opened my eyes and looked at him. I bit the inside of my cheek as I took in his face at this angle.

“Obvious?” I asked. Chandler nodded as he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“Oh to be young and naïve.” He muttered against my head. “Have you not seen the looks he gives you in the mornings after you sleep over? I swear his eyes can’t get bigger and if his jaw could unhinge it would quite literally be on the floor.” I furrowed my eyebrows. “It honestly gets a little annoying.” Chandler gently pushed me to sit back up before moving to make some popcorn. “You honestly have never seen that?”

“No I haven’t Chan.” I shook my head. “Then again I’m never that awake in the mornings and you know that.” Chandler chuckled and nodded.

“Oh I know that.” I gently smacked his arm.

“Anyway,” I turned the conversation back in my favor. “I’ve had my eye on someone else for a while anyhow.” Chandler froze as he opened the box of popcorn.

“You have?” He looked over at me hesitantly.

“Yeah.” I replied. “I have.”

“That’s good.” Chandler nodded. “Good for you. If anything, it makes you immune to Joey.” I laughed.

“What about you Chandler?” I asked, thinking about what Joey had said and how he was reacting. “Got your eye on anyone?”

“Yeah. There’s someone but I’m fairly certain they don’t even see me as anything more than a friend.” He sighed. “If I say anything I know I’m going to screw it up.” Chandler moved to sit in his burka lounger. I turned around to look at him.

“How do you know that Chandler?” I sympathized. “It could go better than you think.” Chandler shook his head and frowned at me.

“We both know that’s not true (Y/N).” He sighed. “I don’t want to screw things up but it always seems to happen that way.” I shook my head. “Janice. At least give me Janice.” I nodded as I thought about Chandler’s ex.

“Yeah. I’ll give you Janice. But you can’t take all the blame for that. I mean,” I made my voice high pitched and whiny. “Oh. My. God.” Chandler laughed and I joined in.

“Face it.” Chandler said when we had calmed down. “I’m hopeless and awkward and desperate for love!” I shook my head.

“You’re not hopeless and awkward.” I said as I stood up. Chandler watched me as I kneeled down next to him. “I’ll give you desperate for love. I’m in that boat too.” Chandler stood up.

“You could have anybody you wanted. We are not in the same boat.” I stood up with him and grabbed his arm, making him spin towards me.

“Yes we are Chandler.” I whined. “Because the one guy I want I can’t have.” Chandler opened his mouth but I cut him off. “I can’t have you.” I blurted. Chandler’s face contorted in confusion before he mouthed ‘wow’. “What? What’s wrong?” I stood there wringing my hands as he stared at me.

“Maybe we are in the same boat.” He said. I cocked my head at him.

“What do you mean?” I shifted from foot to foot.

“I like you too (Y/N).” He said. He gazed at me softly as the weight of his words sunk in. Chandler smiled as I finally caught on.

“Chandler...you...me…” I trailed off as I broke out into a massive grin. “Chandler Bing likes me back!” I exclaimed as I ran over to him. Chandler hugged me tightly and picked me up. “Oh God you like me back.” I pulled back as the reality crashed down on me.

“Yeah. I like you back.” Chandler said soothingly as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I have for a quite a while.” gazing into his eyes, I couldn’t stop grinning.

“I’ve liked you for a while too.” I whispered. Chandler smiled back at me as he gently put me down. His hands came up to cup my face. I put a hand on his chest and cupped his cheek with my other hand.

“Is this ok?” Chandler asked as he pulled me closer. I nodded as I pulled him closer.

“More than ok.” I could feel his breath on my lips and my eyes fluttered closed. “Perfect.” We closed the gap and kissed for the first time. I gripped his shirt as he kissed me passionately. We pulled away and just took in each other’s presence. A noise from the laptop drew us back to reality. I went over to check it and realized that my email had opened. I opened the newest email and paused when I noticed Chandler hadn’t come back to make his popcorn.

“Everything alright Chandler?” I asked, not talking my eyes off the screen. “Chandler?” I turned to look at him when he didn’t answer. He was biting his lip and staring at me. He raised his eyebrows when he realized I was looking at him. “You ok there sweetie?” Chandler nodded.

“Yeah.” He made his way over to me. “Just my best friend likes me back. And I kissed them.” I giggled as I hugged him. Chandler wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

“Want to do it again?” I teased and tilted my head up.

“Could you be any cuter?” Chandler joked as he leaned down and kissed me. He pulled away after a minute and smiled down at me. “Why don’t you work on this tomorrow and join me for the night?” Chandler coaxed me from my seat at the counter and started to back up into his room.

“I think it could be arranged.” I smiled as she kissed me again. When we had entered the room, I kicked the door closed. We could hear cheers of ‘finally’ coming from outside as Chandler led me to bed.

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harrygroves · 3 years

Text

part four

part three

of course i did a part four of the willing victim Steve/ lifeguard Billy fic.

Max is getting ice cream with Lucas the next time she runs into Steve. They get to the front of the line, order, and Steve hands their respective cones to them with a smile.

“Oh, you got your name tag back.” She mentions casually, licking at her strawberry ice cream.

Steve looks down at his chest, like he’s confirming it’s there. “What?” He asks when he looks back at her.

“Your name tag.” She repeats, louder and more aggressive like she’s annoyed.

“I got it...back?” He prompts with a small shake of his head. Steve didn’t say anything to any of the kids, and Billy didn’t really seem like the type of brother to bond over a tub of ice cream and hair rollers while talking about all the mean shit he did that particular day.

“Yeah, it was in a box under Billy’s bed.” She says with a small shrug, like it’s no big deal.

Says it so calm and flippant that Steve doesn’t really understand at first.

Then he processes what she said.

It was in a box.

That’s weird.

Steve is caught up in his thoughts, heart deciding on it’s own to double in speed at this little revelation because it feels innately personal. Max and Lucas have the audacity to turn away and leave.

“Robin! Take the register!” Steve yells as they move through the crowd.

“Jesus, Steve, I’m right here!” Robin snaps back at him, no more than two feet away. She doesn’t ask where he’s going, just slides over to the register before realizing he’s not replacing her at the ice cream stand, then shouts after him to get your ass back here!

He ignores her and springs around the corner of the counter, chasing Max and Lucas who’re already heading out the door.

“Hey!” He yells after them.

He yells again when he exits the shop. They glance back and stop in their tracks, but they both appear confused and slightly concerned.

“Max!” He shouts, stopping in front of her. “Wait, explain.”

“Ex...plain?” She says.

Steve’s breathing is haggard, but it’s not the short jog, it’s this feeling that’s shooting through his body, a lightbulb goes off in his head that this is important. “Yeah, you said it was in a box under Billy’s bed?”

“Yeah, with like, a bunch of other weird shit. He never cleans his room.” She says with a disgusted face, a roll of her eyes.

“What else was in the box?” He asks.

“Uh…” She trails off, eyes defocusing like she’s trying to remember.

“What else?!” He yells at her. He doesn’t mean to do it, it just happens because of the roaring in his ears and the heat on his face. Whatwhatwhat???

“Okay! Okay!” She yells back, eyebrows drawing together, but she’s not mad, it’s more like wide-eyed concern. “Uh...there was like, I don't know, random shit. A party invite -- ”

“What did it say?” He interrupted.

“God, I don't remember, but I think it was, like...a Halloween party? And...um, there was one of those drawings from Will’s house, your name tag...a sock…”

“What?” Steve blurts out incredulously.

“Yeah, it was like a gold and green sock.” She tells him.

It’s his sock. It has to be. It went missing from his gym locker -- he kept thinking it had fallen out and the janitor had thrown it away. As for the other stuff...it sounds like a curated collection of items to remind Billy of...

“Oh!” She says, startling him out of his thoughts. “And your yearbook picture!” She says with a snap of her fingers.

“What?” Steve asks hollowly, but he’s no longer fired up. No. Now, it’s a molten heat pooling in his cheeks, tugging in his stomach, making the back of his knees quiver.

Oh.

Max starts babbling while Steve is having his mini panic attack. “Yeah, like, I really don't know what his problem is. I don't keep shit that reminds me of people I ha--”

She stops, mid-word and her eyes suddenly get really wide, mouth hanging open. Lucas’ mouth falls open in perfect mimicry.

“Holy shit.” She says. The ice cream is trailing down her hand. She doesn’t appear to notice.

“Max.” Steve starts.

“Oh my god.” She says thickly, a little aghast, volume rising. The ice cream is now dripping onto the floor.

“Max, look.” He tries again.

“I...Steve. I think--”

“Stop!” He puts both his hands up and she stops talking. “I know, I get it, okay? Look, I need you two to...keep this quiet, okay? Seriously, no telling the others. Just leave it alone, alright? I’ll give you free ice cream for the rest of the summer.”

They look at each other. Lucas tilts his head at her, she nods shortly in return and looks back to Steve after their silent discussion.

“A year.” Max negotiates.

Steve scoffs. “God, okay, a year. Just keep it zipped. Promise?”

They both nod and walk off, moving close together, heads bowed in deep conversation.

Holy fucking shit.

On Steve’s next day off, he goes to the pool. It’s blistering hot and the humidity hangs around through the afternoon, into the evening. The sky darkens a bit too quickly for this time of the year, thick gray clouds rolling in, the promise of a summer storm approaching.

He waits until the pool closes.

Pulls into the parking lot close to the end of the day, parks next to the Camaro and waits. Sweat drips slow down his back, gathers at his hairline. He’s in khaki shorts and a thin, white shirt but his body can’t keep cool.

He slides out of his car when the last round of children and teens trail out and he waits, barely breathing, ears perked, jaw tense as he listens to the shuffle of Billy moving chairs back in place, the plastic sounds of gathering up floating devices and shoving them into the shed.

He watches the tall lights around the perimeter of the pool turn off.

That’s when he makes his move.

Steve, limbs feeling sluggish and numb but his mind in overdrive, heart in his throat, pushes open the pool gate.

“We’re closed.” He hears Billy grumble before he sees him. He’s over by the employee entrance, facing away from Steve but he turns his body halfway, glancing over his shoulder to see who has interrupted his shutdown routine.

Steve freezes, unsure. Confused. Billy’s eyes lock him in place, and he can’t move. Steve feels like an animal suddenly caught in a trap, like one of those metal rabbit cages, the gate to the pool slamming shut behind him only amplifying the tension. A sound threatens to spill out of him, but it dies in his throat. The heat in the air has seeped into his lungs, filling them to burst.

“Harrington?” Billy chokes out with a lilt in his voice, one of surprise and anger at the same time. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

That seems to be Billy’s whole deal. He’s as equally happy as he is annoyed when Steve is around, and Steve’s been thinking about all those moments -- ones filled with jabs and shoves but also with glints of light in his eyes and suggestive tongue wagging; he leans in, takes up space, like he’s trying to make sure he’s the only thing Steve’s focused on.

And, well. Steve’s finally paying attention.

“Drowning.”

He’s positive that he said it aloud, but the thunder in his chest, the electric fizzle crackling in the air making the tips of his fingers feel fuzzy; it’s overstimulation, and he can’t be sure that he said it, only that he hears it come out of his mouth somewhere very far away.

Steve can’t even be sure if Billy heard him.

He walks forward and pitches himself into the deep end of the pool.

Steve hadn’t actually remembered to take a deep breath before doing this. He’d been too preoccupied with the way Billy was looking at him. Every thought in his head was solely focused on the curve of Billy’s back, the bulge of his calves, the angle of his long neck and the bob of his adam’s apple, the way his eyes bored into Steve when he realized who it was.

So now his dumbass is underwater and he doesn’t have any intention of coming up and it’s for two reasons: one, he wants Billy to jump in after him and two, he feels like an absolute moron for doing this and if he dies it’ll be a blessing. It’s a win-win.

He’s underwater for maybe a full fifteen seconds before getting a little worried that Billy isn’t coming to save him but then the water breaks next to him as Billy jumps in.

Steve watches as Billy swims down to him, staring at him through the water with a strange mix of bafflement and rage. Steve stares back, eyes stinging, letting bubbles of air fall out of his mouth and float between them. Billy grabs his arm roughly. The water is cold but the place where Billy holds him is warm, and he’s pulling Steve up to the surface.

They explode out of the water, Billy keeping his death grip on Steve’s arm.

“What the hell is your problem, Harrington?” He yells instantly, water splashing around them, rolling down his face.

Billy’s holding him close, their legs brush in the water below. Steve stares into his eyes, watches Billy’s face change between curious and irate, pensive and scared.

He hasn’t said anything -- he realizes this, and they both tread water while the low rumble of thunder builds around them.

Billy opens his mouth and starts to say Steve’s last name again but Steve pushes himself closer and slots his lips over Billy’s.

It’s unhinging.

They both taste of chlorine, Steve craning forward, the determined, wet weight of his mouth keeping him afloat as Billy’s hand relinquishes Steve’s arm. Steve doesn’t care though, solely preoccupied with the heated, damp feeling of Billy’s mouth balanced against his perfectly. Steve lets out a long, deep groan, the sound of it coming up from his chest, rumbling through him in a hum against Billy’s mouth.

Billy jerks his head back all of the sudden. Steve’s eyes slowly flick open, but Billy doesn’t explode the way Steve expects. He stares at Steve’s mouth, eyes heavy and lidded, mouth open. They continue to keep themselves afloat, bodies cutting through the water as they bob up and down.

The thunder grows louder.

Steve takes a deep breath and plunges himself below the water’s surface.

He stares at Billy’s torso, the swayed movement of his swim trunks for a moment before Billy lowers himself to match Steve head-on. For the first time ever, Billy doesn’t look angry, doesn’t look like he’s playing a game where only he knows the rules and the outcome. He looks...soft. His features aren’t tense, no pent-up emotion boxing his shoulders.

In this hastily-created private world they look at one another without apprehension for perhaps the first time in either of their lives. A crack of muddled lighting flashes above them, barely registering through the clouds and the water.

Billy swims forward and pushes his mouth against Steve’s.

It’s hard to properly kiss underwater. The space between them diminishes quickly. They don't grapple for one another, both too nervous but there’s hesitant slide of hands over bare planes of skin, the timid tangle of legs, eyes pinched shut.

They pull back at the same time and swim upwards, gasp in lungfuls of air simultaneously.

Steve doesn’t -- he can’t let Billy get away for too long, knows the moment will be broken so he moves back in, crowds close and kisses him, hands coming up to touch Billy’s shoulders. The soft pads of his fingers sink into his flesh, skid over the edge of his collarbone. Steve feels the tentative press of Billy’s fingers along his sides where his shirt has floated up. He opens his mouth, lets his tongue flash out and run against Billy’s bottom lip. Billy actually opens his mouth, let’s Steve teasingly dip his tongue in for the briefest moment and Billy makes this soft, strained noise against Steve’s mouth before jerking back again.

Apprehensive eye contact is exchanged before Billy starts swimming towards the edge of the pool, moving in skilled, even strokes.

Steve scrambles after him and hoists himself up onto the cement, and they both lay back against the warmed cement, staring at the sky. Steve lets his feet stay submerged in the water.

Time passes as the clouds roll and tumble past them, indistinguishable shape-shifting with sudden bursts of white lightning. Steve keeps trying to think of something to say but he’s coming up blank.

What the fuck is he doing?

Billy finally breaks the silence. “Like I said. The pool’s closed.” He says, sitting up. His face is angled away from Steve.

Steve sits up too, retracting his feet from the water, moving to stand in tandem with Billy, trying to decipher his tone, his body language, but he’s getting nothing. Billy is stoic, each movement purposeful as he starts walking away from Steve towards the employee building. Steve feels the moment pass, and finally -- the sky breaks. Soft rain starts coming down around them, dripping into the pool, cement exploding in dark circles.

Say something, Steve thinks angrily.

Billy stops walking, but he doesn’t look back. “Go home, Steve.” He says firmly before he starts walking again. A thread of lightning flashes, turning everything white and blue.

Say something! Steve’s mind screams.

Steve opens his mouth, but a loud crack of thunder steals his voice.

#i really need to come up with a title and move this thing over to A03 #harringrove #my fic

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me.

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in.

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there.

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy.

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise.

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was.

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy.

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now.

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what.

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup.

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another.

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you.

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side.

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent.

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t.

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale.

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you.

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries.

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared.

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper.

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home.

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance.

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell.

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious.

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.”

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat.

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case.

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you.

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times.

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm.

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall.

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat.

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…”

You nodded again.

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly.

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted.

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!”

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement.

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less.

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless.

You finally won.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #dark!reader #ransom drysdale x dark!reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

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