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ladykailitha · 1 month ago

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The Last Dragon Slayer Part 4

Things are really heating up now and I have been sitting on this reveal for ages. I can't wait for you too read it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Steffan and Mira began talking and filling each other in on what they had done in the intervening years.

“So the Sir Steffan who had been the slayer of many a dragonkin was you?” she asked sorrowfully.

Steffan could only nod, hanging his head in shame.

“But only the evil ones!” Edwin cried. “I checked. Both him and his master, Iago were very strict about that. Any dragon who was minding their own business or made only reasonable demands, were left alone, but those who made the life humans hard or were straight up murdering, pillaging, and destroying the country side were killed.”

Mira turned to Steffan. “Is this true, son?”

Steffan looked up at her, eyes brimming in gratitude for Edwin sticking up for him. “Yes, Mother.”

“Then we dragons are in you and your master’s debt,” she said solemnly. “By dragon slayers such as yourself taking on such a burdensome task, we were able to to further drive away those that caused trouble providing a peaceful relationship with the humans.”

Edwin nodded. “It’s true.”

“Where did you go after Father gave me away?” Steffan asked quietly, again looking down, picking at the skin around his nails.

“This is where it will become painful,” she said gently, “for us both.”

Steffan looked up at her curiously and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Your father must have taken another baby from one of his subjects and passed the boy off as you,” she explained. “So thinking that that boy was you, I stayed nearby. As close as dared without alerting your father I was there. But I stayed to watch you grow. Only for Edwin to come to me with your locket, proof that the man masquerading as the prince was an imposter and that I had wasted my day looking after the wrong boy.”

Steffan blinked at her, emotions warring for dominance across his face before settling on something like dismay. “There is no way that he would let the mother live to go telling tales, is there?”

Edwin and Mira exchanged a pained glance.

“No,” Mira confirmed. “The sins of your father are compounded every day and in every way. I’m sorry.”

Steffan shook his head. “I never did hold fondness for a man who would willing give away his own flesh and blood. To hear his misdeeds is to court something like relief if I am honest.”

Edwin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Mayhaps it is time we did to King Dylan that which dragon slayers did to those evil dragons and remove the festering pustule.”

Mira and Steffan looked at each and grinned.

“Mayhaps indeed,” Mira agreed.

Steffan borrowed a horse from the king or rather Edgewraith did. A dragon at your doorstep is a persuasive argument indeed.

Then Mirrorwing and Edgewraith flew behind Steffan as he rode into town. The people who were alive to remember the death of Queen Mairwen hid in their homes in terror, while the other townspeople looked on in curiosity.

Steffan rode all the way up to the main gate of the castle. It was drawn as if to ward off an invasion, but the dragons flew past it as if it was mere fog on the banks of a river. Mirrorwing perched on top of one of the tallest towers, while Edgewraith curled up in the courtyard, like a contented house cat.

Steffan and the brave horse, who managed the whole ride there without trying to dash its brains out in terror of his riders traveling companions, stood outside of the gate in full armor and called out to the king to meet him.

King Dylan had no choice but to walk past the dragon sentries to the front gate to meet the knight at his doorstep. He road out in gold armor on white horse, sword in hand.

“You come to my home and make demands with dragons at your beck and call,” King Dylan snarled. “Have you no knowledge of what has transpired here?”

“More than the good people here,” Sir Steffan snarled. “I know that the prince is a foundling and not the true heir.”

“You blaspheme!” King Dylan bellowed. “Prince Steffan is my flesh and blood and I will call upon God as my witness!”

Edgewraith chuckled darkly. “Your God is dead if he ever existed in the first place.”

*giggles, followed by shushing noises*

“And he would not aid a deceiver such as yourself, Dylan, were he able to do so,” Mirrorwing scoffed.

King Dylan froze in his saddle. He turned slowly to the bronze dragon in mounting horror. He knew that voice as well as his own.

“Mairwen?” he breathed. “Have you escaped justice for what you have done? You call me a deceiver but you have sinned far worse than I!”

“Yes, loving you was always a sin,” Mirrorwing sighed. “But that was my only sin. You have stolen, murdered, deceived, and you have turned away your own flesh and blood.”

“You are a beast!” King Dylan snarled, rounding his horse around to face the bronze dragon. The horse neighed and bucked but the king got the animal under his control again. “You feel no love, you deserve no quarter.”

“But you do not deny giving your son away,” Edgewraith noted dryly. “That is a greater sin.”

“Bah!” King Dylan scoffed. “That half-breed is probably dead by now. Sir Iago is a drunkard and a coward, he probably drowned him days after I gave him away.”

It was then that Sir Steffan removed his helm and tossed it at the ground at King Dylan’s horse’s feet.

“He cared more for me that you would have in a thousand lifetimes,” Sir Steffan intoned. “He raised me with morals and integrity, something you clearly lack.”

“He looks like the old queen!” one of the guards at the gate gasped.

“Whoa!”

“Shut up and let him finish!”

“Yeah, it’s getting good!”

King Dylan whirled around again and the horse was not having it. It began bucking again, and this time the king came crashing to the ground. Then there was the sounds of the gate being raised. But before the king could even call out stop, Sir Steffan had slipped under the portcullis and the king’s horse ran out of the gate past him.

“I am the true prince!” Sir Steffan called. “I am the son of King Dylan and Queen Mairwen! Me! Not some imposter in the high tower! Where is the interloper? Where is the coward?!”

Suddenly all the guards fanned out pointed their swords at not Sir Steffan, but King Dylan. Sir Steffan shared a look of sheer panic with Edgewraith. What was going on?

Then out stepped a man from the doors to the castle who could have been the king in his younger days. He had dark hair and eyes, a slim build and a pleasing countenance.

The guards bowed to this newcomer.

“What is the meaning of this!?” King Dylan bellowed, grasping at his sword as he tried to get up at the same time.

“Forgive me,” the newcomer said to Sir Steffan, “I am Prince Steffan, or that is who I was told I was my whole life. As for what is going on, I’m afraid this is me speeding up your deposition. I had been plotting your removal from the throne for a least a year.”

“Traitor!” King Dylan cried, struggling to get to his knees. “I am beset on all sides! Forsaken by all, but especially God!”

Prince Steffan shook his head. “I’m afraid God does not help the sinner commit more sins.” He turned to the guard who had said that Sir Steffan looked like the old queen. “Seize King Dylan and toss him the dungeon to be dealt with at a later time.”

He looked up at the dragons. “There is a back way, may I recommend it for us to speak more privately.”

Edgewraith and Mirrorwing nodded and then took to the air.

The two Steffans looked at each other.

“My dragons are gone,” Sir Steffan growled. “You could kill me right here, right now and no one would bat an eye. The throne would yours and no one would be the wiser, nor would they care.”

Prince Steffan scoffed. “As if your dragon friends would let me live to see the sun set this day if I did so. Same with throwing you in the dungeon and throwing away the key. No, Sir Steffan. I must treat you like the honored guest you are or all that I have toiled for these many years will be for naught.

Sir Steffan bowed his head. “Then show me to a place we may speak privately, your highness.”

The prince nodded and then turned to lead the way back into the castle of his birth.

When the prince led him to a small copse where they could converse he was shocked to see the old queen and a young man with long dark curls and piercing black eyes.

The prince whirled around to make sure Sir Steffan had not changed as well.

But the knight remained as ever human.

“What sorcery is this!” the prince cried. “Where have the dragons gone? Who are these people?”

“I’m Mira,” the queen said softly. “I am a dragon who fell in love with King Dylan and changed her form to be with him. I stayed with him until the breech birth of my son caused me to turn back into my dragon form.”

“Oh gods!” Prince Steffan cried, whirling around to look at all three of them in turn. “And he had you banished, the midwife slain, and his true heir sent off to learn to kill dragons and for what?”

“So that I might accidentally kill my own mother,” Sir Steffan said with a sigh. “And once the king learned of her death he would throw it in my face, the grave sin I committed. But dragon slayers don’t work like that. We follow the knight’s code. She had done no one harm, but by accident. No slayer would have come near her.”

Mira’s eyes glistened. “I thought you my child, I had not known of King Dylan’s betrayal and swapping the two of you at birth. You have no claim to the throne of this kingdom.”

“He wasn’t my father?” the prince cried. “Was that why he was so cruel?”

“No,” the dark haired youth said, speaking for the first time. “He was always that cruel. You are just a mere stepping stone in a long line of his road to hell.”

The prince let out a sob. “But I love these people, I have grown beside them and they care for me, too.”

“I have no desire to rule,” Sir Steffan said. “I will swear an oath to never lay claim to the throne. A blood oath if need be. I just have one request.”

“Anything!”

“That I be the one to execute the king for his crimes.”

Yes, yes, yes!

It took a week for everything to be sorted and then Sir Steffan stood in front of the townspeople with his sword out.

“I was raised to believe that I was the true child of King Dylan and Queen Mairwen, but it was lies of evil men to sow discord and cast doubt on the legitimacy of Prince Steffan’s line to the throne. I denounce all claim to the crown. But to end the reign of tyranny Prin–no. King Steffan has granted me a boon, that I may be the force of which to end him once and for all!”

The crowd roared and Steffan brought the sword down on the old king’s neck, severing his head. The new king picked up the head and placed in on a spike so that all that came to the kingdom would know what happened to those who did evil.

“And then Edwin and Steffan went back to the village where they found out that the stupid King Richard had died and his son the new King Caradoc was much nicer guy and the town prospered under his rule.

“Edwin and Steffan are like super happy because even though he can’t change into a dragon, he’s still a half dragon. Which means he’ll live for a super long time and they live happily ever after. And years pass and they had a clutch of eggs. Those eggs hatched into young that resembled more of a full dragon than that of a half.”

“After generations, they brought raise to those who would be the dragonborns, descendants of the original two. So that’s the story of the linage of Killian Bloodwraith, my dragonborn knight!” Eddie concluded with a flourish.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mike huffed. “How do two boy dragons have babies anyway?”

Eddie just shrugged. “Magic.”

“I don’t care that it’s two boys,” Dustin huffed. “I more concerned that a lawful good bronze dragon and a chaotic evil black dragon were even friends let alone in love!”

“Plus that’s not how dragonborn work, anyway,” Lucas said, pulling out his rule book. “They’re created by Bahamut!”

Eddie crossed his arms and threw himself back against his chair. “I like my version better!”

Jeff rolled his eyes and turned to Will. “It’s up to you, man. You’re the DM if you want to allow it...”

Will thought about it for a moment. “Let me look at your character sheet.” He waved his fingers Eddie’s direction.

Eddie handed it over. “It’s a monster build. I made sure it wasn’t too OP.”

Will nodded sagely. “I’ll allow it.”

The three other boys looked as though they were going to protest, but one look at Will’s happy face and they folded faster than a deck of cards.

Will clapped his hands together. “Let’s get started! I call to order the first session of the Hellfire Club of 1985-1986 school year!”

Part 5

*Cackles as she runs away*

Tag List: TWO SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs @chaotic-waffle

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @kultiras @themoonagainstmers

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @notaqueenakhaleesi @stripey82 @estrellami-1 @irregular-child

10- @steddieislife @ollyxar @eyehartart

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #asks #dragon slayer steve #dragon au #dragon eddie #ladykailitha writes

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sofmoth · 25 days ago

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like we used to misbehave

this isn’t about kyle gallner or any of his characters, mi amiguita @strang3lov3 just told me she always sees him in my writing and i like this gif♡

super big mcthankies to strange and @pinkypromisepascal for beta reading and editing assistance♡

also posted to AO3 by me (@sofmoth), link here.

divider created by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

18+ ONLY. MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT.

PWP older brother’s best friend, this is not a fanfiction nor is it related to any fandom. all characters are named, second-person perspective, but not necessarily x reader. this was born of me getting bored and horny when all of a sudden a 2-hour venture turned into three days and my word count more than tripled. title is from ‘I Do and I Don’t’ by Ice Nine Kills, the story is not inspired by the song. WC: 4,043

TAGS: m!OC x f!OC, second person perspective, PWP with enough setup to make it make sense, older brother’s best friend, BBF is heavily tattooed and is a smoker, POV character has no description other than FEELING smaller than BBF, age gap, semi-protected PIV sex (POV character is on birth control), drinking, mentions of past marijuana use, fraught birth sibling relationship, surrogate older brother relationship, implication that POV character has experienced parental abuse if you squint right, smut, power imbalance, infantilization if you pay attention, this guy is lowkey a pervert, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

You remember the first time you met him. You were eight, he was seventeen. He and your brother had commandeered the treehouse, stinking it the fuck up with their cigarette smoke and the stench of something you could only guess was a live and terrified skunk.

You stuck your head up through the trapdoor, your brother swearing and frantically disposing of what appeared to be a cigarette, and the most concentrated source of the skunky odor. You frowned at him before your eyes snapped over to him.

“Louie, get the fuck out,” your brother hissed.

“It’s my treehouse too, stupid. Who are you?” You pointed at his friend, he laughed.

“Not important. I won’t be around much longer.”

“Okay, Not-Important. Dill, I’m hungry. Dad said you’re in charge so you have to help me make lunch.”

Dylan groaned at you, his friend smirking at him.

“Looks like Dill forgot how to use his legs. I’ll help you out.”

“Is that allowed?” You looked at him suspiciously.

“If Dill says it’s allowed. Plus, as soon as we get you somethin’ to eat, I’m gonna come back out here.”

“Yeah, fine. Just don’t let her try to use the stove,” Dylan grumbled.

You interrogated him as he made you a can of Spaghetti-O’s.

“How do you know Dill?”

“I’ve known him since we were your age.”

“Why do you have earrings in your lip?”

“They’re called snakebites. I think they look cool.”

“Why do you smoke? That’s for grownups, and everyone says they shouldn’t do it either.”

“I’m not the brightest crayon in the box. My parents smoke so I do too.”

“What’s your name?”

“Already told you, it’s not important.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Are you always this demanding?”

“Mom says I am.”

“Fine. My name’s Travis.”

“Mine’s Louise but everyone calls me Louie.”

“Do you want me to call you Louie?”

“Sure.”

That was the first day you felt like you actually had a brother. Travis listened to you talk, answered all of your questions, if he was annoyed he didn’t let it show. When your parents got home that day, they were visibly unhappy to see you sitting and talking with Travis. When he left they told you they didn’t want you around him, and you couldn’t understand why. They tried to tell you he’d be a bad influence, he wasn’t even the kind of boy they wanted your brother to be friends with.

You had made up your mind; you liked hanging out with Travis, and you weren’t going to stop if it could be helped. He never minded when you would come to pester him while he was visiting your brother, offering you the PlayStation controller, always to Dylan’s dismay. When he left town for college you cried, he hugged you and told you he’d be back to see you for Thanksgiving and Christmas and the whole next summer.

He graduated when you were thirteen, and when your brother moved back in to get his bearings before striking out on his own, Travis made a habit of coming to check in on you while he visited Dylan. He was a much nicer brother than Dylan ever was. He let you paint his nails, although only ever black. He taught you how to do your eyeliner, how to throw a punch, how to play GoldenEye.

You called him in the middle of the night so many times during your teenage years; you were scared of what was happening at a party you were attending, you were one drink too drunk for comfort, you got dumped and stranded alongside a cornfield by some shitbag ex-boyfriend. He never complained, never tattled, always just showed up for you, glad to see you safe. He held your hair for you and never made you feel ashamed that you made a poor decision. You could honestly admit that you loved him.

You’re not sure when you started to like him.

Maybe it was when you finally got curious and he snuck you your first cigarette, lighting the end of yours– hanging out of your mouth– with the burning end of his. Maybe it was the first time you felt his lips touch your forehead as he tucked your fifteen-year-old piss-drunk ass into bed with a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of water.

All you know for sure is, as it all stands, if you keep trying to force down the way you feel it’s going to end very fucking badly for everyone in the house. You watch Dylan across your parents’ living room, his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders. You’ve both moved out by this point, and now you can finally legally drink, so you track their movements across the house as you down your third glass of wine.

You watch Travis, too.

He’s so handsome. He took his snakebites out around the time you turned 17, and as much as you miss them, you like looking at the tiny scars they left. He doesn’t wear his hair over his eyes anymore, instead, he gels it back to show off the scythe tattoo on the side of his face. The one thing he kept were the pretty stone gauges– “They’re called plugs, Lou.”– that have only gotten larger since he was a teenager. The first time you met him they were only a 00g, now they’re probably about an inch.

He keeps his distance from you tonight. It hurts. He isn’t seeing anyone, you know that for a fact, so you don’t understand why he’s being so cold. Maybe it’s because of Dylan, he always did get defensive whenever Travis would talk about something the two of you did together. Be it something as simple as going to the mall or getting a sandwich, Dylan couldn’t take it. He knew he wasn’t a good brother, deflecting that fact by accusing Travis of having a thing for a little girl. Travis broke Dylan’s nose for even suggesting it.

You had been the one to clean up Travis’s bloody hand. When you asked him why he always made so much effort to take care of you, he responded simply; “Can’t have my girl trying to figure everything out all by herself, can I?”

His girl. That was good enough for you then. Now, as you kiss your mother on the cheek goodnight, your chest hurts at the thought that Travis might still see you as the nosy eight-year-old little girl catching them smoking pot in the treehouse. Dylan’s engagement party is nowhere near over, but you can’t stand to be down here with everyone a moment longer.

You don’t know what time it is when you hear your door creak open, barely stirring. It’s probably just your mother anyway. Your brow furrows as you feel the edge of your bed sink, cracking your eye open and turning your head to face whoever is sitting next to you. Your gasp is quickly quieted by Travis’s hand on your shoulder, his low voice shushing you.

“S’just me. Didn’t get a chance to see you much tonight, figured I’d check and see if you were still up.”

“Am now.” You pat the mattress limply. “G’down here.”

Travis shifts to lay behind you, propping his head up with one hand as the other strokes your hair. His voice is soft.

“Been missing my girl.”

“You missed my birthday.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Being a grownup sucks.” He kisses your temple.

“I’m grown too, T. I’m waiting on my invitation to your birthday party just so I can be petty and RSVP “no.”” He snorts.

“You want an invitation to the big three-oh? You wanna laugh at me gettin’ old?”

“You’re not old. My parents are old.”

“They’re not old either.”

“Meh.”

You can feel his lips curl into a grin against your hair. His hand slides down to rub your arm, fingers poking under the sleeve of your t-shirt as he travels over your skin. You feel goosebumps popping up and Travis snickers.

“You ticklish or sum’?”

“You know I’m not. It just feels nice.”

You lay together in silence, your eyelids slowly beginning to flutter shut.

“You still awake?” he whispers. You nod. “Can I tell you somethin’?”

“Maybe. Good or bad?” You feel cool air on the back of your neck as he exhales a soft laugh.

“Good. I hope.”

“Then I guess so.”

He swallows, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I was kinda lookin’ at you tonight. You looked pretty, that blouse you had on was cute.” His voice is soft.

“So did I look pretty, or cute?”

“What’s the difference?” You roll over to face him.

“You never called me pretty when I was younger, just cute. Girls are cute.”

“You are a girl, yeah?”

“Technicallyyyyy,” you drag it out and Travis shakes his head, smiling softly.

“Yeah, technically. You’re still my girl, right?” His hand rests gently on the side of your face.

“‘Course I am.” You hold onto his shirt with one hand, tracing up and down the handle of the scythe on his face with the nail of your unoccupied index finger.

He brushes his thumb over your cheek, pressing his lips to your forehead intermittently. You can feel your breaths beginning to rattle in your chest, fingers shaking as you readjust your grip on his shirt fabric.

“Hey.” You look up at him. “You looked really

pretty tonight. Since I fucked it up earlier.” You both snort.

“Doesn’t work like that, T. Nice try.”

“I mean it, though. And I’m sorry I didn’t come say hi. I was lookin’ at you the whole time.”

Your breath catches as you feel his hand slipping under the blanket, snaking lazily down your side to your bare hip. You rest one arm over his waist, still tucked under his arm. He tugs you closer, slotting his thigh between yours as his tongue darts out to moisten his lips.

“Tell me no and I’ll stop. Promise.” You whimper softly, covering your mouth as you nod.

His grip on your hip becomes firmer as he slowly rocks you back and forth against the denim of his jeans. You can feel your entire body trembling, nails digging into his side. He hisses, resting his finger under your chin.

“Relax, baby. Just focus here,” he whispers, pointing to a faded tattoo in this hollow of his throat. You nod and he kisses your forehead. “That’s my girl.”

You try your best to keep your eyes on his neck, distracted by the feeling of your own leg brushing up against his cock as the fabric tightens over it. You sneak a cautious hand down, unbuttoning his jeans carefully.

“What’re you doing there, hm?” Your face feels hot and he smirks. “S’okay. You wanna take it out? Go ‘head.”

So full of confidence only a moment ago, now balking at the prospect of laying in your bed with Travis, both of you at least partially unclothed. He kisses the corner of your mouth and you feel dizzy.

“Want me to do it? That’s fine, here.”

He pulls away and you fight a strange urge to whine, now missing the pleasant friction. You watch as he unzips his jeans, pushing them down enough to expose the bulge in his boxers. You swallow hard, eyes darting back and forth from the outline of his cock to his lips, and to the fingers teasing the inside of your thigh, just shy of the gusset of your panties. Your hips buck of their own volition as he drags one finger over your clit, covering your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Let’s make it a little more even, yeah?”

He stands, pushing the denim down his legs to the carpet and stepping out. You didn’t realize just how tattooed his legs are, eyes wandering from his shins to his stomach. He rests one knee on the mattress in front of you, head tilted as he looks down at you. The light from your television illuminates him from behind, shadowing his face, hiding it from your sight.

“I can’t see you,” you whisper. You hear him chuckle.

“Let’s fix that.”

He pulls you up, taking your spot and tugging you down over his chest. You prop yourself up with one arm, fingernails drifting over his lip and the tiny healed scars. Travis rests on one arm behind his head, the knuckles of his free hand gently stroking your thigh.

Now or never.

You lean back, slowly pulling your shirt off and dropping it to the floor. You hear him swallow and swear under his breath, his hand coming to rest on your now-bare side.

“Gotta make it even, T.” He grins at you.

He sits up a little, tugging his shirt off and tossing it as he leans back. He’s so handsome, a few strands of hair hitting his forehead, his hand squeezing your hip. You beckon him toward you and he sits up again, wrapping his arms around your back as you hook your legs around his waist, resting your hands on his neck.

You open your mouth to speak, instead closing it and swallowing harshly. Travis knows, he’s always known exactly what you’re thinking.

He kisses you softly, holding you upright as you practically melt into his chest. He moans against your mouth as your skin meets, and you can feel his fingers trembling on your back. You pull away slightly, scanning his face.

“Am I making you nervous?”

“You aren’t.”

“Why are your hands shaking so bad?”

“Your brother’s a scary motherfucker.”

“Not my dad?”

“Lou, I watched you knock your dad down.”

“Why are you scared of Dylan?”

“Remember when I broke his nose?”

“I’m not a little girl, T.”

“I know.”

“I can make my own decisions.”

“You always have.”

You rest your forehead on the side of Travis’s neck, sweeping one hand over his back and shoulder. You feel him swallow, his hips carefully pushing up into yours. You whimper into his skin, pushing down to meet him.

“Just don’t want you to think I’m some kind of…” His breath is ragged.

“I don’t.”

“I mean, you were��”

“But I’m not anymore,” you whisper, scraping your teeth over his shoulder.

He hisses, moaning as you bring one of his hands to cover your breast. He flips you both, pinning your wrists to your pillow as he grinds his pelvis into yours. You gasp, hooking one leg over his back and yanking one hand free. You pull his head down, kissing him so hard you’re sure one of you must have split a lip. He bites, growling as he does, pushing one hand between the two of you. You gasp, your palm pressing against his chest. He swears under his breath, covering your hand with his and holding your face carefully in the other.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Got carried away. Y’okay?” You nod, closing your eyes as he kisses your cheek.

“M’okay. Just wasn’t expecting it.”

Travis shifts and lays down, pulling your back to his chest. You can feel him kissing your neck softly, his lips moving as he mumbles something into your skin. You pull his hand to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.

“I can’t see you,” you whisper.

You feel him move again as he climbs over you, eyelids fluttering shut as he kisses you.

“Wanna try that again? Little less teeth?” You snicker at his question.

You don’t answer, shuffling under him as you work your panties halfway down your thighs, grabbing one of his hands and resting it on your leg.

“Even it out, T.”

He slides down, moaning against your skin, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. You can make out his hands frantically pushing his boxers down, the light from the television silhouetting his cock.

“Lou?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know how I’ve always been really fuckin’ impatient when I want something?”

“You’re showing some pretty solid self-control.”

“Not gonna last much longer.”

“I never said you had to wait.”

He kisses your stomach, tugging your panties off your legs before pushing your thighs apart to make room for his hips. You whimper as he slides the head of his cock through your folds, poking him once in the chest as he places the tip at your entrance. He looks up at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Forgetting something?”

“I started driving you to get your birth control when you were fourteen. I know you’re smart enough to stay on it.”

He groans as he pushes into you, covering your mouth to stifle the yelp tearing out of your throat. His hand covers half of your face, you can feel his fingers digging into your cheekbones and you squeak under his palm. He shushes you softly, kissing your temple.

“I know baby, I’m sorry. But I need you to be quiet for me, okay? Think you can do that?” You do your best to nod, biting your lip and whimpering as he removes his hand. “Good girl.”

He fucks you slowly, lacing his fingers into yours and kissing your knuckles.

“That’s my girl. You’re doin’ good, baby. Feels so fuckin’ good,” his teeth graze the shell of your ear as he whispers.

“Fuck– Travis please– faster,” your voice hitches in your throat as you try to speak.

“Any faster and you’re gonna have to lay on your belly. You’re too loud, baby.” He kisses you softly.

“I’ll be quiet, I promise. You can cover my mouth if you want.” You squeeze his fingers, trying your damnedest to convince him.

“Okay, I’ll cover your mouth. You sure you can take it?”

Travis smirks as you near-frantically nod, and you could swear you see the whiteness of his teeth reflecting the television screen. His hand is over your face, hips snapping into yours without warning. You feel tears pricking at your eyes, squeezing them shut as he fucks into you relentlessly. You dig your nails into your pillow, your moans into his palm interrupted by hiccuping sobs.

He slows, removing his hand and shushing you. Your cheeks sting as if he’d dug his nails in, burning from the tears defying your will and slipping out.

“C’mon baby, you told me you could take it. What happened?”

“Travis you were h– hurting me,” you whimper. He sucks his teeth, shakes his head.

“You’re not a little girl anymore, right? You gotta learn how to handle this kind of stuff. I’m just doing what I always do, baby. Can’t have my girl trying to figure everything out all by herself.”

He’s right.

He’s just teaching you, the same thing he’s done since the day you met him.

“If I start going faster, are you gonna be a good girl? Gonna be quiet for me, not gonna complain?”

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

“You “promised” last time. Pinkie promise, baby.”

He holds up his pinkie and you hook yours to it, biting the inside of your cheek as he begins pounding into you again. He exhales raggedly and kisses his thumb, allowing you to pull your linked fingers closer to your lips. You kiss your thumb in return, pressing it against his. He kisses you, moaning into your mouth as his grip on your hip tightens for a moment.

The pressure on your hip is gone and your back arches as you feel his thumb circling your clit, your eyes rolling as you whine. He silences you with another kiss, and you finally force yourself to focus. He tastes like the American Spirits he’s always smoked, and you can smell the barest remnants of Franzia red wine on his breath. You notice your own breath quickening, nipping his lip as your legs begin to shake.

“You gonna cum, baby? Cum on my fucking cock, I wanna fucking feel it.”

You wrap your legs over his back, entire body trembling. You thank god he’s smart and doesn’t change anything that he’s doing, biting his shoulder as you twitch and yelp into his flesh. He shushes you, slowing the pace of his thrusts to guide you through, carefully removing his hand.

You realize you’ve been holding his pinkie with yours the whole time, loosening your grip on it as you release his shoulder. He kisses across your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.

“That’s my girl, good job baby. Did so good Louie, you’re such a good listener.”

You feel your face heating up and you're glad for the limited visibility in your room.

“My turn to feel good. Flip over baby, on your belly for me.”

He pulls out slowly, strokes himself lazily as he watches you turn onto your stomach. His hand is on your ass, kneading and groping the flesh as he fucks into you gently. His breath is hot on your spine, his hips stuttering as he tries to control himself. You press your face into your pillow. Travis knows, he’s always known exactly what you’re thinking.

He fucks you hard and fast, and you wish you didn’t have to face the pillow. You wish you could scream, the sounds of your flesh and Travis’s ragged breathing driving you toward a second orgasm. You feel your breaths growing shallow, tears welling up in your eyes as your thighs tremble. Travis’s hand is in your hair suddenly, tugging your head back just enough that he can hear you whimpering. He kisses your neck, biting your shoulder as he groans.

“Sweet fuckin’ girl. My fuckin’ baby, aren’t you? You’re my fuckin’ girl, Louie. Always. Fuckin’. Will be.”

He punctuates the words with sharp thrusts, pulling your hair so hard you can’t help but cry. His other hand covers your mouth as he kisses the hair behind your ear, his speed unrelenting. All you can focus on is just how big he is, how full you are, how small you feel under him like this. He whimpers in your ear, swearing as he falters.

“Oh fuck, gonna fuckin’ cum–”

He hisses, hips snapping into you once more as he moans and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You cry into his palm, sure he’s broken skin. You can feel his body trembling over yours, the heave of his chest as he catches his breath. He swallows harshly, shushes you softly and brushes your hair away from your face. He sweeps his thumb over your cheek, kissing the back of your head.

“You did so good, Louie. Made me feel so good. So fuckin’ good, baby,” he whispers, pulling out of you slowly.

You hear his breath rattle as he drags his finger over the bite on your shoulder, and you can feel that it’s too much moisture to just be saliva. You wince, Travis rolling onto his side and pulling your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around your torso, placing soft kisses to your hair and rubbing your forearm with his knuckles.

“Hey, y’okay?”

“M’fine. Just tired now.”

“I mean it, are you okay? I know I was bein’ kinda rough.”

“I’m okay, T. Promise. It felt good,” you whisper, running the pads of your fingers over the back of his hand.

He kisses your cheek, squeezing you closer.

“I had a thought.” You hum at him.

“That’s dangerous.” He covers your mouth and raspberries your neck, muffling your squeal.

“Anyway, I figure I will invite you to my birthday party. You RSVP “yes,” and I can fuck you in every room of my house.” He squeezes your breast, nipping your ear as you shiver.

“Just not in the attic. There are probably raccoons or something up there.” You cover his hand with yours.

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you in the attic for sure now. Give the raccoons a show.” He kisses your neck and you snicker.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Hey now, that’s not nice. Thought I raised you better than that.”

You can feel his hand snaking down your stomach, turning your head to look at him as you part your thighs. He’s so handsome.

“Guess you’re just gonna have to make sure the lesson sticks.” Your back arches as you feel his fingers pushing into you, his lips on your shoulder.

“Don’t you worry about that. I’ll tell you as many times as I have to.”

#dead dove: do not eat #older brother's best friend #smut #not fic #moth hollerin

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elizabethwritesmen · 1 year ago

Text

The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 6 : October 28, 2023

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: it’s halloween and your treat is a visit from ghost but it turns into more of a trick when a new bartender gets a little too friendly with him. you do what you’ve got to do to keep his eyes on you and end up with more than you bargained for.

warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), degradation and praise, dancing on a bar, public nudity, reader gets harassed again, simon gets angry again, slut shaming and a lot of shit talking about the new bartender goes on in this chapter, i think that’s all but let me know if i missed anything!

series masterlist

October 28, 2023

The bar was having a Halloween party.

I didn’t want to go, I’d been working all day at my new job and was exhausted, but Sabrina insisted.

What was my new job, you might ask? Well, the previous May I’d graduated with a Masters in criminology. I wanted to seek higher education but was still deciding what and where. In the meantime, I was interning at a law office nearby. It paid shockingly well, they were a small practice but extremely successful and valued their employees a lot so they showed it by giving them a lot of money.

I didn’t have time to go pick out a costume, so Sabrina assured me she would get me one, much to my dismay. Due to this, I went there straight after work, bringing my makeup and stuff with me so I could just get ready at the bar like I had many times before.

She met me at the door with a bag and shoved it in my hands, giggling all the while, making me frown. What had she cooked up?

I was mortified when I opened the bag and found combat boots, the smallest black dress I had ever seen, and someone’s fatigue shirt. Whose? I don’t know. I wondered the same thing.

“I am so not wearing this. Somewhere is bound to be open, I’ll go see-“

“NO! You know good and well this is the best way to get these dumbass military boys to buy you drinks.”

“Who says I want these dumbass military boys to buy me drinks?”

“You do, trust me, you need a night of flirting with a bunch of men more than anyone else I know. Now get your sexy ass in the back and get ready!”

I sighed, rolling my eyes so hard I thought they would get stuck that way, and did as she told me, heading to the small room in the back that we usually changed and touched up makeup in. It had bad lighting but we’d placed lamps in front of the mirrors, and it had a small set of lockers for anyone who worked there to put valuables in, but they didn’t actually lock so I didn’t understand the purpose of them.

Once I managed to get everything on, I had to admit I looked good. Turned out the dress was basically just a nearly sheer lace slip, but it blended in perfectly with my black bra and thong, which made it feel just a tad bit more modest than it actually was. The combat boots actually paired well with it and the fatigue shirt. I already had gold jewelry on, and I just kept it, thinking it made the look even a little better. All that was left was to touch up my makeup and curls.

Once I stepped out into the bar area, leaving my clothes behind trusting nothing would happen to them, I was bombarded by Sabrina, Dylan, and the new bartender who’d taken my place. She was cute, honestly, tall and skinny with big dimples on her cheeks. I figured she was doing well, and she seemed nice.

“You look so good!” They told me, fawning over me. I laughed, waving them off, sitting at the bar and waiting for it to get busy. It always did on the night of the Halloween party, without fail.

The music was loud, and all of it was either dark and sexy or Halloween themed. Decorations were hung up, less in depth than I usually did. Sabrina always hated decorating and I guess the new girl did, too.

“Hey,” Sabrina sat next to me, “It feels like it’s been forever!”

“It’s been like, three days,” I deadpanned, brows furrowed and she laughed.

“Yeah, but we used to spend damn near every day together. It’s so lame here without you.”

“But you have that new girl, right? She seems nice, maybe you could be friends.”

She rolled her eyes and I got comfier in my seat, knowing she was about to tell me all about the drama. “She’s awful.”

“I gathered that from the eye roll, now spill!”

“Alright, so when she first got here, she acted like she was just really eager to learn. Then ‘eager to learn’ turned into ‘eager to feel up my husband every chance she got.’ Fucking slut.”

I gasped, leaning in farther, “She felt up Dylan?”

“Yes!” she sounded exasperated, “He was showing her how to make a couple drinks and she just got right up on his side and started rubbing his arms and his back!”

“That bitch,” I furrowed my brows.

“I know! So he told me to take over showing her the ropes, and I have, but I wanna just fuckin’ fire the stupid cunt. She’s an idiot anyway and she can’t do anything right!”

“Well then why hasn’t he fired her yet?”

“Because his dad is wrapped around her finger and doesn’t want him to.”

“That bitch!” I huffed, “Well if she touches him again I’ll beat her ass for you. I don’t work here anymore, I can’t get in trouble.”

“I know you will. Just tell me first so I can film it, we’ll pop some popcorn and have a movie night.”

I raised my drink and she clinked it with her own, taking a sip with me. I eyed the new girl, in awe that she could seem so nice but be such a snake.

Around 9, the place was full, and I was dancing with a few friends that had shown up. We were just jumping around on the floor, a few guys around us dancing with us. It was fun, more fun than I’d had in a while.

I didn’t even notice they’d shown up until one of my friends started talking about the sexy guy in the mask. I furrowed my eyebrows, hope sparking in my chest as I looked around and saw him at the bar, the new girl in front of him, leaned over, giving him a front row seat to her tits. I nearly fumed, excusing myself and briskly making my way over.

I stood behind him for a second, trying to catch a hint of their conversation. It didn’t seem like he was giving her much from what I could tell, and she seemed to be getting more and more desperate for his attention by the second.

“Ghost,” I cleared my throat from behind him.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to realize I was here.” He spoke without even turning around. The new girl made her way to the other side of the bar, giving him a moment alone.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to come to me.”

“You looked like you were having fun, didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I was,” I sighed, “Are you gonna look at me? Or are you gonna keep staring at her tits?”

He chuckled, turning around fully to face me in his seat. My breath hitched, I didn’t expect him to do that.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he patronized me, “You wanted my attention now you got it.”

I took a few steps closer to him, “Just a little sad. See, you’re supposed to be looking at me.”

“Well, I’m looking at you now,” his voice was low and dark and his hands settled on my hips, pulling me a little closer, “What’re you wanting, huh? A compliment? Want me to tell you how good you look in this little piece of fabric you call a dress?” I nodded frantically, biting my lips and his eyes followed the motion, “You haven’t earned it.”

I gasped, eyes widening and he laughed again, this time fuller. His hands tightened on my hips as he lifted me into the stool beside him, gesturing new girl over and ordering me and Malibu Pineapple. I caught the dirty look she sent me, but I didn’t have a fuck to give. My brain was short circuiting over the way he just.. lifted me into the chair, and the way he remembered what I wanted to drink.

“Thank you,” I offered him a smile, taking a sip.

“Probably not the first free drink you’ve gotten tonight.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s my favorite free drink I’ve gotten tonight.”

“Suck up.”

“I would, if you’d just give me the chance,” I winked and the whites of his eyes showed a little more for a second as he widened them.

“You’re impossible.”

“Then why do you keep coming back for more?”

My hands were on his thighs then, both of us facing each other in our chairs, and I let my hands roam slightly but not to anywhere too scandalous.

“Guess what the fuck that bitch just did!” Sabrina’s voice broke the trance, and I looked at her expectantly, “She said you cockblocked her and started whining about you. Like I’m gonna choose her side over yours, be fuckin’ for real for a second!”

I raised my eyebrows, “Cockblocked, huh? Sounds like new girl wants you bad, Ghost.” He grunted in response, lifting his mask to take a sip of his whiskey. “Don’t moan and groan at me, you were the one undressing her with your eyes. Want me to get her number for you? Maybe you can take her home.”

Sabrina looked at a loss for words, and her eyebrows were raised in concern but she saw her way out of the situation. Smart choice.

“Sweetheart, stop.” His voice was a command. Deep and final. But I just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“Oh, honey, I’m just getting started,” With that, I was up and across the bar, dancing with my friends again and trying to ignore him. A few guys came up to me, one wrapping his arm around me and trying to grind on me but I pushed him away a little with a laugh.

“You can buy me a drink, but you can’t touch,” I teased, but my face went dark and his hand landed a smack on my ass.

“If you didn’t wanna be touched, why’d you wear this?” he asked me, leaning his head down for a kiss that I dodged, elbowing him hard in his chest.

“My outfit isn’t a free pass to touch me, you stupid fuck.”

“At least I’m not a stupid slut,” he slapped my ass again, but this time I was ready for him. I grabbed his arm and twisted hard, wrenching it around behind him. Once I had him where I wanted him, I kicked the back of his knee and sent him to the floor, me standing over him and holding him hostage there.

“You want a broken arm? Because you’re sure asking for one.” My tone was angry, forceful, more assertive than I could ever remember it being.

“Fuck, get off of me,” he growled, trying to pull away but I twisted harder and he let out a gasp.

“Get the fuck out of the bar, and don’t come back until you can learn to keep your hands to yourself,” I growled at him, letting him go just to kick him in the back and send him all the way to the floor in a heap. He turned over and laid there, staring up at me.

“That’s not your choice to make,” he smirked, still cocky after what had just happened and I raised a brow.

“No, it’s mine, and I agree with her. Get out.” Dylan’s voice was like a lifeline as he grabbed the guy by the shirt and pushed him out of the doors. I breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone. “Good job, killer,” he high fived me and I grinned, “If you didn’t have that fancy new job I’d ask you to be the new security guard.”

I giggled as he walked away, trying to come down from the adrenaline of everything. The bustle around me made it hard, though, so I walked outside, holding myself tight to battle the cold. I heard the door open and shut behind me and imagined it was Sabrina, but I knew I was wrong when he walked towards me, his heavy footsteps giving him away.

“You alright?” he asked me, and I turned around slowly, nodding.

“I’m fine.”

“That was pretty impressive, what you did in there. Maybe you can take care of yourself.”

“I’ve told you that a million times but you had to see it to believe it, huh,” I chuckled but my words were venom, staring down at my feet.

“You gonna tell me why you’re acting like this?” he changed the subject.

I responded with a quick, “No.” He looked frustrated, speechless almost.

“You can just tell me you’re jealous. It’s obvious enough.”

“Jealous? Of what? Sally McSlutface laying her boobs out on the bar like a personal menu for you? Yeah, I’m green with envy, let me tell you,” my tone was biting, sarcasm laced in every word, pure hate dripping from me when I talked about her. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Maybe Ghost wasn’t mine and I had no claim to him. Maybe he could talk to whoever the hell he wanted and look at whatever the hell he wanted.

He breathed out a laugh, staring at the sky hopelessly, begging for the patience he needed to deal with me. “You are green.” His eyes snapped back down to me. “Whose shirt you got on, anyway? One of these soldiers that comes in here and hits on you? What’d you have to do for it?”

“I didn’t do anything for it, asshole, I don’t know whose it is.”

“Right, that makes sense,” his tone was patronizing again and it set me on fire, anger building inside of me.

“You’re gonna get mad about me wearing someone else’s fatigues when you’re in there eyeing up that dumb bitch like she’s fucking candy or something? You fucking asshole.”

“I’m not mad, baby, you’re the only one that’s mad,” but he sure sounded mad, and I didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. I didn’t even dwell on the word baby.

“I’m not mad!” I yelled, then tried to calm myself down, “You know what? Go fuck her. See how much I care. I have my own plans for the night.”

I attempted to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Don’t do anything stupid just because you’re throwing a fit like a fucking brat.”

“Wanna see how much of a brat I am?” I couldn’t tell whether my words were foreboding or inviting. “Come back inside.”

I shook away from him and stormed into the bar, beelining it to Sabrina and Dylan.

“Remember two years ago when I danced on the bar for Halloween?”

“Yeah,” they both nodded.

“I’m doing it again. Put on the song.”

Their eyebrows were raised but they nodded, and Dylan went to the stereo system to get it going.

“You good?”

“I’m fine. I’m taking your advice and moving on. Or showing him what he’s missing. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Plus it’ll make that new girl mad.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” she grinned, “Get your fine ass up there and show them who’s boss!”

I grinned back as the familiar tune began. I made my way onto the bar and some of the guys there noticed and began to gather around. Right at that moment, Ghost walked back inside and the second his eyes found me, he looked homicidal.

I began swaying my hips to the beat, winking at him and increasing my movement with every lyric.

Heaven help me, the devil wears lace and she can’t be tamed.

If I were wealthy, spend every last dime just to hear her say my name.

I flipped my hair around, slipping the big shirt off and throwing it to Sabrina who was watching from behind the bar with a huge smile on her face. She handed me a bottle, one of the cheapest liquors they had as the chorus hit.

So light me in flames

Just as hot as you need

Let me see the good girl you wanted to be

I turned my back to the group of people gawking and cheering, bending over and reaching between my spread out legs to pour two shots worth of liquid into one of the guy’s mouths, which brought on more cheers.

My eyes caught his as I turned back around and felt myself up, hands sliding from my chest to my thighs, squeezing the fat there as my motions got sharper with every beat.

All of my praise, only from me

I can be the one who can set you free

He made his way over to the bar and I grinned, turning my back again and doing a small spin, hanging on to the rail at the top of the bar for support then shimmying down, surely flashing some people but I wasn’t concerned.

Fall from your grace

Turn up the heat

I feel I’m going down, hands gripping the sheets

I sat sideways on the bar, leaning back on my arms and arching tightly with my head thrown back, then turned over and raised my hips, arms stretched in front of me and ass on display and he snapped. He ripped his jacket off and threw it over me, hauling me off the bar and outside. The people there seemed dumbstruck, and I barely heard the end of the chorus before the door shut.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled, setting me down in front of him.

“Do I have to think about everything I do before I do it?”

He let out a sharp laugh, “You are the most danger prone girl I have ever known. Yes, you have to think about dumbass decisions before you make them.”

“All I did was dance on a bar,” I rolled my eyes, pulling his jacket tighter around me in the cold.

“Yeah, right, that’s all you did. Now everyone in there has seen your ass, you feel good about that?”

I set my jaw, letting it tick as I thought over my answer. “You’re talking to me like I’m some kind of whore. Maybe I just wanted your attention.”

“You have that already. Give me a real reason.”

“Maybe I just wanted the attention you gave her.”

“What attention? You’re so fucking delusional. I didn’t even look at her. I don’t give a fuck about her. I came here for you. My team came here for you, and they’re in there having the time of their lives because they got more of you than they bargained for. There’s only one girl that I want to drive me up the fucking wall, and it’s not her!” he was yelling, seething really, his tone harsh and cutting deep but then I let his words settle in along with the feeling of stupidity.

“Ghost, I-“

“Fuck, don’t call me that, my name is Simon,” his voice was still raised and it’s like he didn’t even realize what he’d said until it was out, and we were both taken harshly aback.

I let my mouth drop open a little, taking one step closer to him.

“Simon,” I tried it out and I liked the way it felt rolling off my tongue. I think he liked it too, judging by the way his face softened and his eyes darkened. “Forgive me,” I implored, getting further into his personal space. Crowding him out, really, until my perfume must’ve been suffocating him, thinly veiled by the jacket he’d thrown over me. He didn’t answer. “Forgive me,” I repeated, urgently this time. “Want me to get on my knees and beg? I will. Not for anyone else, but for you, I’ll do it.” He just kept staring at me as I rambled on, “I was jealous, Simon. So jealous, can’t help it with the way she was looking at you. Had me so angry-“

He cut me off, yanking his mask up to his nose and grabbing my throat, pulling me to him and kissing me. I yelped, shocked by the impact, but it only took me seconds to fall into a rhythm, melting where I stood and whimpering for more.

“Such a little slut, begging for me like this and I haven’t even touched you,” he groaned, pulling away to kiss down my neck. I let out a shaky moan, arching into him as his mouth drifted lower.

“Fuck, Simon, please,” I whined, and he laughed.

“I should’ve told you my name a long time ago,” he mused as he brought his mouth back to mine, claiming it as his own. He backed me slowly into the wall, huge hands circling under my thighs and lifting until my legs were wrapped around him and I was caged in his arms.

I got more desperate, squeezing him closer and breaking the kiss to groan when he pressed into me. He was big. Big was an understatement.

“Don’t think that’s gonna fit,” I breathed out and he laughed, nuzzling into me.

“Not tonight it’s not.”

“What?” I was panicking, the need for him growing in me with every passing second.

“Not gonna take you for the first time after a fight like that, baby,” he kissed me again, “Gonna make you wait for it.”

“I’ve been waiting-“

“Don’t whine,” he shut me up, “Makes me want you too bad. Now come on, let’s go back in.”

I pouted as he set me on my feet, all turned on with nowhere to let it out. I followed him as he dragged me inside, pulling his mask down at the same time.

We garnered some stares as we walked in, hand in hand, people obviously knowing exactly what was going on. There were some surprised looks, I wasn’t exactly known for being seen with a man or even settling for a man at all. People were used to be flitting about, flirting but never enough to care.

“Everything okay?” Soap asked as we approached their table, where Sabrina and Dylan were already standing, chatting away.

“We’re just fine,” Simon nodded, and I stayed quiet, blush on my cheeks still, and my eyes might as well have had hearts in them as I gazed at him.

“You’ve got a little… bruise….” Sabrina muttered, grazing her thumb over a spot on my neck and I gasped, pulling the jacket up higher. Everyone laughed at that, and it looked like even Simon smirked but I couldn’t quite tell under the mask.

He pulled out a chair for me and one for himself right beside me and I sat down. They kept cracking their little jokes and I kept not saying much, too lost in thought. I wanted him and I wanted him bad.

I placed my hand on his thigh, rubbing slightly and making my way further and further up. He slapped it away but I just put it back, continuing my ascent. “If I leave, will you follow me?” I whispered the question in his ear, and he just looked at me, but the way his eyes grazed over me let me know he was on the hook. I smirked, pulling my hand away and fleeing to the back room.

The new girl came in behind me, her face twisted in blatant annoyance.

“You can’t be back here,” she spat.

“Yet somehow, I am,” I giggled, waving her away, “Anything else?”

“I thought you were nice when I first met you earlier, but you’re really just a bitch, huh?” I cocked a brow as she let those words slip.

“Do you want to find out just how much of a bitch I am?” I questioned, and she didn’t back down. “Get out. Now. Go ride a dick in the bathroom or something like you’ve been trying to all night.”

“I think I will, in fact I think I’ll go for that man in the mask,” she smirked and before I could even laugh, he came in.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, “This seat’s taken.”

I snorted and she just gawked.

“She isn’t even supposed to be in here!” she huffed.

“Go tattle on her, then,” he barked, and she jumped, making her way out of the room. Once we were alone, he closed the door, turning the lock behind him. I smirked, walking towards him slowly, slipping the jacket further and further off with every step until it was on the floor.

“Just gonna leave my jacket on the ground like that?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it,” I winked, finally reaching him and placing my hands on his chest, balling them in the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I don’t care, as long as I win,” I clicked my tongue, sinking slowly down to one knee, and then the other.

He let out a ragged breath as my hands slid down, tugging his belt until it was unbuckled and sliding out of the loops. Then I got his button and zipper undone, pulling down just enough to expose his boxers slightly.

“Aw, my poor Simon, you just wanted me to touch you, huh?” I cooed, pulling the boxers down enough to expose the tip. “I got you this turned on, baby?”

“Don’t forget your place,” he growled, but his actions were sweet as he brushed my hair back from my face lightly.

“I know my place,” I smiled, “On my knees with my mouth wrapped around you.”

He all but growled, hips bucking into my touch. When I raised a brow, he admitted, “Been a while.”

“For me, too,” I offered, hoping it would make him feel better, before pulling his boxers down further and exposing the entirety of him.

“Fuck,” I gasped, “You’re huge.”

“Gonna keep talking about it or put your mouth on it?”

I didn’t need any more encouragement, getting straight to work, starting with a stripe licked up the back and ending by sucking the tip into my mouth, twirling my tongue around it teasingly.

“Fuck, please,” he breathed out, hand pulling my hair tighter as I took more of him. I had to ease my way down to adjust my throat, but once I got as much as I could in, I started moving back and forth. He held me there until my eyes were teary and wet, my throat completely expanded, and I let him use me.

“Wanna see you,” he told me and I nodded as well as I could, humming around him and pulling my dress and bra down to expose myself, the air making my nipples hard as they’d ever been. I’m sure he had something to do with that, too. “So fucking - agh - perfect, so perfect for me, fuck please keep going,” he sounded broken, but not in the same way other men I’d been with did. He sounded needy, like he’d been waiting his whole life for that one moment and he never wanted it to end. I’d never felt that from anyone before, and I wanted more of it so I got greedier with him in my mouth, savoring the weight of him on my tongue.

“Fuck, y’gonna make me cum,” he gasped, squeezing my hair to pull me back a little as his hips stuttered. It was a sweet gesture, to keep from hurting me with his movements, and I moaned around him, which seemed to tumble him right over the edge. He groaned with one last thrust of his hips and pulled out just enough for me to open my mouth wide and stick out my tongue, letting him let go right there inside of it. He watched closely as he did so, enjoying every second, right to when I swallowed it all.

I grinned after he came down, pulling his boxers back up and doing his pants back up for him then standing and wiping my mouth gently.

“See you out there,” I winked as I began to walk past him, but he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back to him, picking me up and bringing me to the small bench in the corner. He laid me on it, pulling me to the edge and kneeling in front of me, eyes dark on me.

“What’re you doin’?” I asked, breath coming out quicker, heart racing.

“Showing you what your place is, since you’re a little confused,” his voice was rough as he hooked a finger in my panties, pulling them off of me swiftly, “It’s laid out with your legs spread wipe open just for me.”

I gasped, squirming under his gaze as he brought a finger down to swipe through my folds.

“Please,” I whimpered, and he chuckled.

“That’s it, what a good little slut, begging me to touch you. What do you want from me baby? Want my fingers in this little cunt?”

I nodded frantically, eyes wide and pleading, and he obliged, ripping his gloves off and slipping one finger in. I let out a broken moan as he went in and out, thinking it couldn’t possible get better but then it did as he slipped in two, fucking me with his digits, curling them around that spongy spot inside of me.

“Simon, I - fuck - please -!” he went a little faster, and I tried my best not to scream but it was so hard.

Then, all at once, he went away.

“What are you-“

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, calm down,” he shushed me and I relaxed, lying back and watching as he grabbed his jacket. He walked over to me, placing one of the sleeves over my eyes and tying it behind me, making a blindfold of sorts.

“What’s this for?” I asked, and I heard a bit of movement and something being set down before he grabbed my hands and lifted them to his face, laying them down there on bare skin.

I gasped, feeling around, greedy for more then I found it in his hair. I tugged lightly, loving how it felt in my fingers, and he groaned. Before I could even process his bare face, he’d leaned down and kissed me again, his fingers going back to where I needed him most and pushing back in. I rutted against him desperately as his tongue explored my mouth, then moved downwards. To my neck, then my chest, spending a little extra time there teasing me, then down my belly and to where his fingers were.

He circled his tongue around my clit and electricity shot through me as I let out a shriek, my legs falling over his shoulders and pulling him closer as my hand fisted in his hair. He lapped at me like a man starved, working harder for me than anyone ever had, coaxing me farther and farther open until I didn’t feel like I could even inhale. He noticed, pulling away just enough to rasp, “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you, just relax and let me make you cum.”

I moaned again, back arching as I began feeling that peak inside of me getting closer and closer. He could feel it too, so he sped up his movements and added another finger, tipping me over the edge and fucking me through it as I wailed. What felt like forever later, I collapsed in a heap, gasping for breath.

A minute later, he took the jacket off of my face and I pouted when I saw his mask was back on, as well as his gloves. I started to get up but he stopped me with a hand on my chest, laying me back down.

“Hold on,” he ordered and I did, watching him look around for a second before coming back with a little towel he’d found. He carefully cleaned me up, and I watched him in a daze, those dangerous feelings bubbling up in my chest once more. I was a goner for him, and suddenly the thought that he had to leave soon hit me and my eyes were getting hot.

“I’m gonna keep these,” he smirked as he pocketed my underwear, and I nodded, staring at the ceiling. He got quiet, taking note of my attitude change and furrowing his brows. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer and panic set in. “Was that not okay? Did you not want that? Fuck - I’m sorry, I-“

“No,” I shook my head, “I wanted it. It was good. Perfect, even. I just… I feel like I can’t tell you what’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll laugh at me.”

“Promise I won’t.”

“You have to leave. I just feel…”

“Used?”

“No,” I placed my hand on his to quiet those thoughts in his head, sitting up carefully, pulling my dress back to somewhat modesty. “Sad.”

“Oh,” he said, seeming surprised. “You know, sweetheart, I’m not the kind of man you wanna care about.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

“I’ll be back. I promise I will.”

“And if you can’t keep that promise?”

“I can.”

The tears fell then and he sat beside me, pulling me into his arms as I cried. “Shh,” he whispered, “It’s okay. I’ll be back. Just let it out.” His hand was rubbing circles on my back, easing some of the pain. I couldn’t believe how vulnerable I was being, but I felt completely wrecked and he hadn’t even fucked me, and now he had to leave. Of course I was vulnerable,

I stopped crying, pulling slightly away from him and wiping my face as best I could.

“We should go back out there. Try to have a good night.”

“Baby, I’ve already had a good night,” he chuckled and I let out a little giggle too.

“Okay, then let’s try to keep the good night going. Come on. There’s no telling what they’ve said about us by now.”

“Probably nothing that wasn’t true.”

“Yeah…” I mumbled, “We haven’t been too subtle, huh?”

“I think when you showed your ass to everybody in the bar, subtlety went out the window.”

“Probably,” I laughed, standing up and bringing him with me. He slipped the jacket back over my shoulders as we walked out.

“You don’t have underwear on, I’m doing damage control.”

Just as I expected, everyone picked on us, and the night was full of endless innuendos. I just stayed quiet and shy, gazing at Simon, and it almost seemed like he was gazing back. He kept either his arm around me or his hand on my leg for the whole rest of the night, seeming like he didn’t want to let me go.

Unfortunately, the time came that he had to, and we all parted ways and he walked me to my car, still holding me to his side.

“You gonna be ok?” he asked, hand cupping my cheek as I stared at him with those same heart eyes I had for him before.

“I think so,” I grinned and his eyes fell to my lips.

“I meant what I said,” he told me, “I’ll be back for you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I hummed, pulling him a little closer until I was trapped between him and my car, but there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

He lifted his mask to his nose again and I smiled, knowing what was coming. His mouth fell down to mine, slower than before but just as intense. It was short and sweet, but memorable, and I chased him as he pulled away.

“Go home, sweetheart,” he mumbled, kissing me on the forehead before putting some distance between us. He started to pull his mask down but I stopped him, jumping on him one last time in a panic and kissing him with everything I had. It lasted longer and left us both breathless. When I finally stepped back, he just smiled at me, and I realized it was the first time I’d seen his real smile. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever had the luxury of seeing, and I pouted when he covered it up.

“Please stay safe,” I told him, finally letting his hand go and getting in my car.

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost smut

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nashcandream · 4 months ago

Text

WIP Sunday: Gale and Lennox Fanfiction

A few notes from the echo chamber:

My storyline follows Gale post the events of the game, reunion included. We’re talking a year since his return to Waterdeep. This story does NOT include a Tav or current romance partner for Gale. He is trying to have a “normal” life in Waterdeep, whatever that means. He does not have the crown, is not the Chosen of Mystra (or at peace with her), and is working through his shit the best he can. I was inspired to write a moodier aftermath Gale and a wizard character I originally created to be a Tav honestly works out better as Not-A-Tav. And I am really into the idea of Gale not getting his sunshine and roses at the end of events of the game. It might sound like I am making him suffer erroneously but I feel like he has more room to grow. And I want to see him do so under different circumstances and for different reasons.

Also, things might be a little confusing because I am using the name Lennox for this character, too. (What do you mean, too? Well, you have to look at my profile to understand this. It’s confusing. I’m confusing. I’m sorry. I just shifted from Dylan to Lennox. Because Dylan was part of a much older identity and Lennox is more in-line with what is current. Non-binary trans identity issues you didn’t ask for but are now part of!)

This is a work in progress and I mean that. This is barely even edited. This is “I wrote 2545 words of fanfic and I want to share it despite the ROUGH state it’s in”. Just please, please keep that in mind. I haven’t written fanfic in, like, decades. I said 10 years in a previous post but we’re talking more like 20. I am older than I think I am. I am not looking for criticism or critiquing at this time. Thank you. <3

Well, without further ado…

Chapter One (Untitled Fanfiction, 2k+ word count)

When the storm finally passed and the sun broke through, the students finally found themselves with reason to leave. Toward the end of the session, one had been reduced to tears and the other was seriously questioning whether he did, in fact, have what it takes to be a wizard. Rather than risk further upsetting the tutor, or professor, as he preferred, the students solemnly departed the cold tower. Once outside, they lamented to each other how strenuous the lesson had been and that surely this man was a sadist, expressing shock and dismay that he might be their only hope to advance beyond the initiate level.

Gale Dekarios was simply surprised it took the storm ending for the students to leave. Surely, by now, these students were capable of conjuring some sort of protection against the elements? Both of their inability to tackle even a simple downpour weighed on his mind as he aggressively erased the day's lecture from the board; higher up, a mage hand also angrily scrubbed away the day, chalk dust falling like dirty snowflakes onto Gale’s jacket and hair. Hopeless. The youth of magic is hopeless and the future is bleak. He tossed the eraser into its bin before sinking into his desk chair, both he and the worn leather groaning.

Gale leaned back and closed his eyes, his arms folding over his chest; in that moment of calm, reality snuck up like a snake. He jolted forward, as if suddenly unable to breathe. One year. One year to the day. Not since the abduction, no. But since the return. How had he not realized this when waking this morning? For that matter, when did he wake? When did he last sleep more than a few hours at a time? When was the last time he could rest without being plagued by nightmares? Each time he closed his eyes, a different horror lurked in the darkness, memories of walking, waking hell. Of devils and demons, of cults and madness, of death. The incredible amount of death. A wave of nausea rolled over Gale as he thought of decaying, rotting flesh, old blood and broken bones.

And yet, he reminded himself, he survived. The world is quite literally saved. And he helped save it. Considering the year of solitude and disgrace leading up to months culminating in great acts of heroism, Gale should be proud. Or so he thought. But all he felt was anger. Frustration. Paralyzing and inescapable fear. Anxiety and aggression that threatened to boil over at any moment. Great sadness often washed over him, body and soul, and it would be days before he could get out of bed again. But any sense of accomplishment for saving the lives of millions never seemed to find him since returning home.

Three-hundred and sixty-five days exactly. And here he was, once again in his tower. The city hummed to life again since the storm had passed. There was shouting in the street, children calling for their friends, parents calling for their children. Life continues, he thought, with or without us. He had changed and the city of Waterdeep remained as she always had been, The City of Splendours.Too bitter a taste to swallow. Gale mentally cursed the day, straightening his posture, and returned to the notebooks on his desk. He, too, must weather the storm and return to the mundane. The trivial. The trite essays of students in sore need of discipline and basic reading comprehension.

Stress was ever-present and unforgiving, emitting from Gale like a beacon of fire. Six months ago, Gale attended a fraught reunion of souls; the group of misfits that found themselves together on an arduous, tadpole-infested journey. Everyone had been pushed to the brink of sanity and coping seemed near impossible. The gathering was a welcome respite and resentful reminder of all that had been gained and lost. Of the loneliness and uncertainty that awaited Gale upon his inevitable return to Waterdeep. Leaving his, for lack of a better word, friends for a second time felt like a noose around his neck.

Thankfully, his despair had not gone unnoticed and it was Shadowheart who offered the simplest, but most effective, suggestion: find something normal to do and just do it. She explained her own readjustment period during their time apart, how grounding herself in the present kept her from drowning in the past. Shadowheart, her chickens, and her garden. She had found something normal, something ordinary, and was thriving. Find something normal. And just do it. Gale called on this energy as he pushed through the assignments before him.

Had he been less preoccupied, Gale might have heard a knock downstairs, the footsteps on the creaking stairs, or even the sound of someone clearing their throat for the first time. He did not, however, and it took a polite but firm, “Mr. Dekarios?” to pull Gale from his thoughts. The image before him was jarring, if only because he was not expecting any more students for the day. Even if he had, this person was not one of them.

“You are not one of my inept pupils,” He stated bluntly, clearly annoyed at the unwarranted interruption. The person before him seemed bemused but smiled, steadfast in their actions. A little too confident for someone Gale has no desire to speak with.

“No, I am not.” The stranger took several steps forward, closing the gap between themselves and Gale’s desk, one hand extended and the other wrapped firmly around a soft briefcase. “My name is Lennox Monroe; it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dekarios.”

“That has yet to be seen, Mx. Monroe.” Gale considered ignoring the gesture for a moment but caught Tara’s eye from the hall and thought better of it. With a resounding sigh, he accepted their firm handshake. A single nod to the seat in front of him was all the indication Lennox was given to sit and continue the conversation. And so they did. “I should tell you now, Mx. Monroe,” Gale warned, once Tara was out of earshot, “I do not have availability in my schedule for another student. Please tell whomever sent you from the Academy to relay this information to the rest of staff. If there is nothing else..” His hand swept toward the door, and Gale returned to grading, his quill scratching assertively.

Lennox maintained their composure and, with every ounce of being, kept their face from reacting. On the inside, Lennox was confused and bewildered but also…a little amused at Gale’s reception. This is The Gale of Waterdeep, they thought, fighting the urge to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Chalk dusted his jacket and vest, and appeared nestled in his graying brown hair. The loose, messy bun only complimented the shadows beneath his eyes, the stains of tea on the cuff of his shirt. He sat in stark contrast to Lennox’s warmth and cleanliness; blush skin, black and soft gray waves, bold green eyes, dressed neatly in black and gray.

Their age was indiscernible and for a moment, Gale thought Lennox was quite a bit younger. The more he examined the unflinching figure with their determined but bemused expression, the more years he saw. Time was hidden at first, made difficult to interpret largely in part to the markings on Lennox’s face. They did say their name was Lennox Monroe, correct? What a strange combination of names. Gale exhaled, curious as to why they had not left and why their expressions were interrupted by strange scars and tattoos. He almost missed their nose ring and black framed glasses. And were they wearing heaving earrings or were the ornate embellishments somehow braided into their hair? Body modifications such as these were a fashion Gale never quite understood. What exactly was happening here?

“I assume by Academy, you mean Blackstaff?” Lennox laughed, their head shaking to suggest the opposite. “I promise you, I am in no way affiliated with The Academy.”

Irritated but intrigued, Gale raised his head and leaned back in his chair. “Alright, you have my attention. If you aren’t another student hell-bent on failing their program, why exactly are you here? And try to keep this brief, Mx. Monroe. I have the future of magic waiting for me.” He gestured toward the heavily marked and corrected papers before him.

They straightened and exhaled slowly, attempting to find the right words for the situation. Lennox had a plan before entering but that was before meeting Gale and observed his abilities. Carefully, Lennox nodded toward the array of chalkboards behind him that were scrawled to bursting with research and theory for some unknown bit of spellwork. “Before we begin, is that your work?” They asked carefully. Gale looked back toward the mess with the briefest of smiles, a hint of pride dancing across his wrinkled expression.”It is,” Lennox internally groaned but held their tongue as his gaze snapped back to them . “What exactly do you want exactly, Mx. Monroe? I do not want to have to ask a third time.”

Resigned to the fact that no other option had presented itself in years, Lennox bit the bullet with a brilliant smile. “I am here for a different opportunity, Mr. Dekarios-”

“Professor Dekarios.” His amendment tightened Lennox’s expression but they continued. This man had become their only hope.

“Professor Dekarios,” They corrected themselves, “I am here to offer my services as an apprentice to you as a senior wizard,” Lennox opened their briefcase and began pulling out documents and a leather-bound journal. “If I can just have a few moments of your time to go over my background and thesis, I think you will find-” Lennox stopped as Gale’s hand flew upward, indicating to them to do so. Their eyes narrowed at the gesture

“Mx. Monroe, I am not interested in mentoring any student at the apprentice level. I have neither the time nor patience to educate an individual through their exams. I barely have time outside my own research for the pupils I am contractually obligated to serve through the Academy. I thank you for your interest and I can understand why you sought me out but my talents are better suited to personal study.” He explained curtly, once again implying for Lennox to take their leave. They seemed determined, however, much to Gale’s dismay.

“I understand your time is valuable,” Lennox agreed, “But I think you will find this situation, my situation to be unique. I do not need a traditional mentor at this stage in my education. I have advanced my studies to near completion.” They took a deep breath, explaining, “What I need is more of an academic advisor. Someone to get me through the paperwork. Someone…someone who will sponsor my thesis and eventual dissertation. A senior wizard has to sponsor me or I can’t advance. I am not here for you to hold my hand, Professor Dekarios. I am here to complete my education in good standing.” There was a sense of urgency and desperation in the firmness of their request.

Gale looked at Lennox in slight disbelief and curiosity. “Let me see if I understand this correctly. You failed out of whatever program you were in before,” Lennox began to protest and Gale raised a hand to silence them once more. “Now you want me to ‘advise’ you over the finish line? After how many years, exactly?” When Lennox began to explain, he shut them down a final time. “No, No. Mx. Monroe, I have no idea what you are up to but I want no part in it. There are plenty of lesser wizards who can help you with your request.” Gale stood. The finality of the conversation apparent, Lennox came to her feet, snatching the briefcase closed with one swift motion.

“You really won’t hear me out, will you?” Lennox asked knowingly.

“I truly do not have the time. Or care.” Gale added, solidifying his stance.

“Well, that makes this next part a lot easier,” Lennox commented quietly, looking down. For the first time, it was as if their entire body relaxed and something in them shifted. The presence of mind to remain composed evaporated. When their head jolted back up, Lennox’s expression had changed entirely. No longer welcoming, warm, and ready to place nice. They were now angry…pissed off, even. His words rang against the confines of her mind, “You failed out of whatever program you were in before….You failed….You failed.” The embers of a roaring fire had been stoked. Gale took a step back, confused by the abrupt departure of Lennox’s easy smile. A steely-eyed shark offered no comfort or placations.

“I suspect you do need time for your own studies,” Lennox began, a cold sarcasm clinging to each word. “Considering you have no idea what in the hells you’re doing.” Their little laugh on hells sent chills down Gales spine.

“Excuse me?” He balked, angrily.

Lennox began gesturing to the chalkboards behind him, using their magic to pull large sections of information forward. “This? This is outdated research by at least twenty years. Where did you even find it?” The admonished, highlighting one section of notes. The light danced to various other sections of what appeared to be a formula. Lennox shook their head, “This here? This doesn’t even make sense. You have the theorems confused. And you can’t use this,” Lennox magically circled a highlighted portion, “Without providing a stabilizing agent. Which I do not see evidence of anywhere here.” Lennox pulled the entire contents of one board, throwing their hands in the air. “And all this? Oh, I’m not even going to tell you where and how you went wrong. But you should know that nothing here is right. I don’t have the slightest clue what the hells you are trying to accomplish and I can tell you, this is wrong.”

Gale stood in silence, feeling as though he had been drenched in cold water; it had been ages since he received such a dressing down, and about his magic no less. He cleared his throat, determined to prove himself unnerved. “Are you finished?” He asked, though a slight tremor in his voice betrayed him.

“No, I’m not,” Lennox softened, shaking their head. “Look, you are a talented Illusionist, Evoker, and Conjurer. Abjuration is not everyone’s speciality. You know the nature of spellcasting gives you a disadvantage and yet, you tried anyway. Learning is part of the craft, is it not?” They sighed, gathering themselves to leave. “Previous Chosen of Mystra or not, whatever you are attempting is beyond your abilities. You should ask for help, Professor Dekarios. Like you said, your time is valuable…you shouldn’t be wasting it on this mess.” Lennox gestured once more to the boards and highlighted portions before a wave of their hand made their magic disappear. “Good luck to you.” With a half smile and wave, Lennox departed from the library, their footsteps echoing against the walls of the tower. The main door slammed shut with a reverberating thud. Somewhere, a clock sang the joy of the hour. As silence overtook him once more, Gale was left to wonder…

Who in the hells is Lennox Monroe? And what in the hells just happened?

#bg3 #bg3 roleplay #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #galemance #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #non tav romance #oc: Lennox Monroe #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 oc #gale x tav #bg3 tav #WIP #fanfic wip

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wolfawaycamp · 1 year ago

Note

LauraMax & Rylan go on a double date.

🌦️ I realised, as I was writing this, that this is also sort of an answer to your lauraryan besties who hate each other+maxdylan besties ask. enjoy :)

To both Laura and Ryan's dismay, Dylan and Max got along like a house on fire.

Their boyfriends having other friends was not at all an issue— for Ryan at least, he knew Laura could have a little bit of a possessive streak. No, the issue was this: awkwardly sitting across from each other in a restaurant as Dylan and Max caught up. They weren't being forgotten— Dylan had his hand on his knee, squeezing it intermittently, and Max was definitely holding Laura's hand under the table— but it was just weird. That tension had never really gone away, not completely, even though they'd saved each other’s skins.

They just had nothing in common— nothing concrete, at least.

“Inigo rolled in mud again on a walk, so we had to put him in the bath— well, you know how bathing him goes down. Laur got completely soaked. I have pictures actually, wait,” Max said, and started scrolling through his phone.

Dylan responded, “You sure he wasn't a cat in a past life?”

Max found the pictures and faced his phone towards Dylan and was flicking through them. Ryan was reminded of when his grandparents showed Dylan his baby pictures. “Oh my god,” Dylan laughed, “Is he a waterbender?”

Max pointed his screen at Ryan so he could see and Ryan immediately had to try to hide his amusement; he could feel Laura's death glare on him. In the picture, Laura’s mascara was all over her face, and her hair was drenched and limp. Her face looked defeated, and the dog was a blur of movement. He was sure he was failing at hiding how funny it was, because Laura’s glare intensified.

He was saved by the arrival of the waitress, who asked for drinks, first turning to Dylan.

“Cherry soda?”

She nodded and turned to Ryan. “Uh, orange juice. Please.”

Laura blinked at him. The waitress wanted her order. “...Orange juice, too.”

Honestly, Ryan half-thought Laura was going to order hard liquor to get through this interaction.

Finally, Max’s order was: “Root beer!”

The waitress tapped her pencil against the notepad. “You guys ready to order food?”

“Yeah,” Laura answered for all of them. Ryan quickly decided on ordering the veggie burger. He'd been turned off red meat after that night.

Max ordered spaghetti. Laura ordered… “A veggie burger, thanks.”

It was Ryan's turn to blink at her. What was going on?

“Um. A veggie burger for me. Please.”

Dylan ordered lasagna, probably because his conversation with Max had a detour talking about Garfield at one point, then smiled at Ryan knowingly.

Ryan looked at Laura, and found she was looking at him, trying to figure him out.

They had something in common, he supposed.

#the quarry #ryan erzahler #laura kearney #dylan lenivy #max brinly #lauramax #rylan #radioheads #ask box #request #ficlet #fanfic #fluff #🌦️

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toptierteaser · 2 years ago

Text

The Fitness App

Chapter One: Coach Hermes

“Dude, I swear by it! Six months! That’s all it took to whip me into shape! Two years of Pandemic fat gone like that! Trust me, you won’t regret it!”

Diego’s words rang in Dylan’s memory as he stared down at the little earpiece in his hand. It looked like a little white snake, curled up in his softened palm. This was his last opportunity to back out, to put the thing back in the box and return it to the software store. He could get back in shape on his own, couldn’t he? if he just committed to going to the gym four times a week, documenting his workouts, journaling his food habits…

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. A husk of the former man he used to be. Or rather, it looked more like the hottie-with-a-body from the past had been stuffed into a suit made of dough, which had only expanded over the course of the last three years. His face still retained his former “adorableness,” as the ladies and gays at the office put it. He still had the good looks as the fat had hardly affected his face.

But the rest of his body…it was an entirely different story. Just the sight of himself, standing alone in his room, was enough to make him blush. Everything had filled out. Exposed in his underwear, he looked first at the thighs which pressed up against each other like rising bread. His love handles that now jutted up over his waistband. The tight briefs he had not bothered to replace were covered in the front by the gut that had just begun to descend—a major factor in his deciding to try out this new technology—covering the front of his crotch and the fabric was beginning to rip on the sides because of the size of his ass. His butt had always been big for a guy’s, but now it was absolutely ‘ridiculous,’ as his friend, Cody, had teased, grabbing one of his juicy cheeks and giving it a jiggle. And of course, his tits had grown ripe, bouncy, his arms thickened not by muscle, but by fat, and his neck was slowly starting to plump up as well, teasing just the hint of a double chin.

He knew no amount of working out, writing down his exercises, keeping track of his calories would get him any closer to the fit jock he was over three years ago. It was a tried and failed recipe for disaster that had only resulted in him ballooning even fatter every time. Of course, during the pandemic, he had simply sat on his ass like everyone else and stuffed his face until he couldn’t fit another bite…but what was his excuse for the last two years?

At the beginning of the pandemic, there was no risk of being asked to go back into the office. Who knew how long that would last? And so, Dylan had kept on growing, kept on eating. But after a few years of remote work, the company had finally started to crack down on working-from-home, requiring a slightly-to-surprisingly chubbier office to return.

On the dreaded day, Dylan, after a morning of wrestling himself into the loosest chino’s he could find and wriggling into the only button-down that would button over his tubby gut, had waddled himself back into the building. He was shocked, stunned, and dismayed to find that out of all the dozens of employees, he had put on the most weight in his time larding out at home. And his coworkers were equally-stunned to see his new status. No one, upon smiling at him and greeting his return, could seem to keep their eyes from falling to size up his sized-up belly. And a few even made comments; his rival, Luke, who only looked fitter, more muscular, going so far as to poke his tummy.

It was already a miserable day. One which resulted in Dylan trying his best to drown out the associated feelings by glutting out on the snacks he had brought back to stock his desk. But to make matters worse, as he stood there, a granola bar dangling out of his mouth, restacking the papers on his desk, he watched as Diego, suited with brand new pants, a shirt, and shiny new shoes, came strutting into the office, looking at least fifty pounds thinner than the last time Dylan had seen him.

Diego had already been a thick-bodied man. Chubby, even. He had been so even a year before the pandemic, when both he and Dylan had started. The desk job had caused him to fill out quite quickly and by the time everyone was sent home to work, his obtuse ass cheeks could barely even fit into his pants. It was, perhaps, a lucky break for Diego that he could now work from home, as Dylan could see the seams on his buttocks starting to become unraveled as his doughy coworker waddled out the door.

But the pandemic went on, and so Diego’s weight went up. Dylan could see the changes during the zoom meetings, as his flawless brown skin was stretched tighter over the young man’s plumping face. Once, even, Diego had to stand to plug his computer back in and Dylan could see his lower half, clad only in a t-shirt and the tightest sweats Dylan could imagine his office friend wearing, his gut jiggling as it “bwomped” out from beneath his shirt, smacking against the keyboard on the desk.

That’s why it was a surprise when, two years later, Diego came strutting into the office, looking thinner than when he had started. Luke had elbowed his way to the front of the cluster who had walked up to congratulate him, feeling Diego’s muscles, running a hand over his stomach to check for abs through the fabric. The whole sight made Dylan want to puke. Instead, he stuffed a muffin into his face and glowered until they were called into the conference room.

It was a tighter fit than Dylan could remember, as he wedged his widened ass between the armrests of the chair. By accident, he was right beside his friend, Cora, and Diego. They had always been on good terms, but Dylan could hardly stand to look at him.

“What’s wrong, man?” Diego had asked.

Dylan didn’t hesitate. “How the fuck did you lose all that?” he spat. It came out far more volatile than he intended.

Diego looked slightly dejected, throwing up his hands. “Just wanted to take care of myself, man.”

Dylan softened his tone. “Sorry…it’s just. You, of all people…”

Diego laughed. “Would it make you feel better if I said that you were part of the inspiration? That I wanted to look like you did…you know…before.” He laughed, elbowing Dylan in the chubby side. Dylan couldn’t help but smile.

Diego glanced around. Everyone was busy chatting and celebrating each others’ return. He lowered his voice. “There’s an app…and a device. It’s called the ‘Encour Rager!’” Dylan gave him a look. “Cheesy, I know. But hey!” He looked down at his own body.

“What does it do?” asked Dylan.

“It’s an A.I. trainer. It encourages you to work on your goals.” Diego chuckled. “And man is it brutal! But it’s effective. Which, clearly you might want to consider,” he glanced at Dylan’s stomach. Dylan squirmed.

“I might give it a try,” he said absently. Of course, he didn’t know how he felt about A.I., but like everyone, he used it almost daily in some way or another. But he had already tried so many apps; calorie trackers, workout calculators. None of it had helped.

Diego leaned in closer. “Listen, dude. It’s not like anything else you’ve tried. It’s a commitment. I don’t recommend it lightly. But once you buy it and put it in, it stays in there. You don’t take it out again for a year! I mean, it’s as close to permanent as you can get!”

All that flashed through Dylan’s mind now as he looked at himself. A tubby version of the hottie he so badly wanted to be again.

A small chirping sound went off from the device in his hand. He looked down to see it glowing blue. It was fully-charged. Now was the moment of truth. He could back out now, if he wanted to. He gave his thickened body one last glance in the mirror, catching a glimpse of the pile of clothes he had set aside because he no longer fit into them.

He clicked the button on the side of the earpiece, raised it, and inserted it into his ear.

A pleasant tune filled his brain. And then, a voice. “Hello, Dylan.” It was deeper than he had imagined. Masculine. He envisioned an attractive, muscular jock. “I’m your Coach. You can call me Coach if you like, or by my name, Coach Hermes.” ‘Hermes,’ the god of games and sports.

“Hello,’’ said Dylan awkwardly.

“Hello, Coach,” corrected the device.

“Hello, Coach,” said Dylan, smiling.

“Much better!” said the device. “Now, you are aware of my function, are you not?”

“I am,” said Dylan. “Coach Hermes,” he added, grinning.

“Very good. Just to recap, I will act as your personal fitness trainer for the next twelve months, during which time, we are going to whip your body into the shape you most desire! My function is to optimize your fitness level to suit your needs and to best-satiate your personal self-image. During our first week together, we’ll be getting to know one another quite well, and I will be observing and commenting on your lifestyle; your eating habits, your exercise routine, things like sleep schedule, how much television you consume. Does that all make sense to you, Dylan?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan. He was growing placid, as if the voice was lulling him into a trance.

“Excellent, Dylan. Now, as I will be observing, I will also be curating a program which I believe will best-benefit your body…money-back guaranteed, of course. The watch that accompanies my earpiece will allow me to monitor your heart rate, your breathing, and your responses to my words. The contact lens will allow me to see the world through your eyes and will give me a customized projection which is designed to motivate you towards your fitness goals. Please go ahead and place the watch on your wrist at this time.”

Dylan did as he was told, strapping the watch onto his chubby wrist. “My, that’s a tight squeeze, isn’t it?” said Coach Hermes.

“Uh, a bit…” mumbled Dylan.

“I am reading that your pulse has been elevated. Might I suggest you do some deep breathing to calm your nerves. There is no need to be anxious. None of this is permanent until you give me the final say-so.” Dylan took some deep breaths.

“Now,” said Hermes. “Please place the contact in your eye…so I can get a good look at you.”

Again, Dylan obeyed, dropping the contact in front of the mirror, and blinking as he adjusted it into place. It was the smoothest contact he had ever worn. He could barely tell it was there!

“Very good!” said the Coach. “Oh…what a handsome dude.” Dylan was looking at his own face.

“Thanks, Coach!” said Dylan, half-forgetting he was talking to a robot.

“You’re welcome, Dylan,” said the robot. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind standing back a bit, so I can see you. You did remember to wear the minimum amount of clothing so I can see your full person, did you not?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan to both question and request.

“VERY good! I can tell we’re going to whip you into shape faster than you could ever have thought imaginable! Now, please step back.”

Dylan stepped back, still put off by the quivering of his stomach as he did so. Still disturbed by the increased rubbing of his thighs.

“Oh!” said Hermes in a shocked voice. “Oh, my! You have lost control, haven’t you…big boy?”

Dylan blushed. Why he would do so in front of a robot was beyond him. But it was embarrassing nonetheless.

“No matter,” said Coach Hermes. “We can work with this. Can’t we, thiccums?”

“Uh…yes…?” stammered Dylan, questioningly. ‘thiccums?’

“Yes…?” said Hermes.

“Yes, Coach.”

“That’s better, fatty.”

Dylan nearly fell over. Diego had warned him the words of the A.I. could be harsh. But it would all worth it, when he came strutting into the office in a new suit…right?

“Well, now that I’ve gotten a good look at you, chubbs, there’s only one thing left to do. Your wristwatch will take your thumbprint as your signature.” As the app said this, Dylan felt the watch buzz, illuminating on the screen. “If you are prepared to commit for the next year, please go ahead and place your thumbprint on the screen at this time.”

Dylan hesitated. Could he really handle being called things like ‘chubbs’ and ‘fatty until this time next year?

“Or, you may decline the offer and return the app. Your one-day trial is cost-free so long as the device is returned to the nearest software provider without damage.” The voice dropped to a whisper in Dylan’s ear. “But, do you really want to look like this for the rest of your life, porker? You know that you won’t be able to do this without me, right, fatboy? You know you need my guidance. That’s what I’m here for. To help you. I’m nothing like those other apps, where you can lie to them about eating a salad before you go binge on a carton of ice cream. I’m the real deal. I see everything. I feel everything. Like how out of breath you are, just standing there. Like how I can tell by your pulse that you’re embarrassed. But you don’t want to be embarrassed for the rest of your chubby life, do you? Go on, biggums…sign the contract.”

Dylan looked down at his watch again. He raised his thumb over the screen, letting it hover.

“Sign. It,” hissed the app.

He couldn’t do it alone.

“Yes, Coach,” he said. And then he pressed his thumbprint down and held it against the screen.

“Very good, fatboy,” said the A.I. in his ear. “Now, we can begin our training!”

#bhm weight gain #weight gain story #a.i.#fatboy #fatass #teaser #chubby #feedee encouragement #gaining weight #fat bhm #fat belly #stuffed fatty #fatty #fat boy #exercise #weight gain humiliation

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therainforestechoes · 9 months ago

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𐂯 yes another self-indulgence.... twisted shrimpo names & pronouns >_< OH we do accept fandom reqs but cant guarantee anythin ....

𐂯 scuttle hisser rudy whiskey writhe rex nicholas ghoul banshee dismay morven psyche vex blair mortis achilles sludge ooze zombi zombie zomb chase chaser critter sushi dylan

𐂯 ink(inks ichor(ichors sludge(sludges yell(yells ang(angry ang(anger red(reds tre(trench dark(darks lone(lones shri(shrill ca(catch ang(angler

#💥shepherd.#twisted shrimpo #dandys world twisted shrimpo #dw twisted shrimpo #themed npt #npt suggestions #npt help #npt set #npt blog #npt pack #npt ideas #npt list #themed id #id pack #id help #id blog #name ideas

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teaseandsqueeze · 6 months ago

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The Program: Chapter One

“Dude, I swear by it! Six months! That’s all it took to whip me into shape! Two years of Pandemic fat gone like that! Trust me, you won’t regret it!”

“What’s wrong, man?” Diego had asked.

Dylan didn’t hesitate. “How the fuck did you lose all that?” he spat. It came out far more volatile than he intended.

Diego looked slightly dejected, throwing up his hands. “Just wanted to take care of myself, man.”

Dylan softened his tone. “Sorry…it’s just. You, of all people…”

“What does it do?” asked Dylan.

All that flashed through Dylan’s mind now as he looked at himself. A tubby version of the hottie he so badly wanted to be again.

He clicked the button on the side of the earpiece, raised it, and inserted it into his ear.

“Hello,’’ said Dylan awkwardly.

“Hello, Coach,” corrected the device.

“Hello, Coach,” said Dylan, smiling.

“Much better!” said the device. “Now, you are aware of my function, are you not?”

“I am,” said Dylan. “Coach Hermes,” he added, grinning.

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan. He was growing placid, as if the voice was lulling him into a trance.

Dylan did as he was told, strapping the watch onto his chubby wrist. “My, that’s a tight squeeze, isn’t it?” said Coach Hermes.

“Uh, a bit…” mumbled Dylan.

“Now,” said Hermes. “Please place the contact in your eye…so I can get a good look at you.”

Again, Dylan obeyed, dropping the contact in front of the mirror, and blinking as he adjusted it into place. It was the smoothest contact he had ever worn. He could barely tell it was there!

“Very good!” said the Coach. “Oh…what a handsome dude.” Dylan was looking at his own face.

“Thanks, Coach!” said Dylan, half-forgetting he was talking to a robot.

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan to both question and request.

“VERY good! I can tell we’re going to whip you into shape faster than you could ever have thought imaginable! Now, please step back.”

Dylan stepped back, still put off by the quivering of his stomach as he did so. Still disturbed by the increased rubbing of his thighs.

“Oh!” said Hermes in a shocked voice. “Oh, my! You have lost control, haven’t you…big boy?”

Dylan blushed. Why he would do so in front of a robot was beyond him. But it was embarrassing nonetheless.

“No matter,” said Coach Hermes. “We can work with this. Can’t we, thiccums?”

“Uh…yes…?” stammered Dylan, questioningly. ‘thiccums?’

“Yes…?” said Hermes.

“Yes, Coach.”

“That’s better, fatty.”

Dylan nearly fell over. Diego had warned him the words of the A.I. could be harsh. But it would all worth it, when he came strutting into the office in a new suit…right?

Dylan hesitated. Could he really handle being called things like ‘chubbs’ and ‘fatty until this time next year?

Dylan looked down at his watch again. He raised his thumb over the screen, letting it hover.

“Sign. It,” hissed the app.

He couldn’t do it alone.

“Yes, Coach,” he said. And then he pressed his thumbprint down and held it against the screen.

“Very good, fatboy,” said the A.I. in his ear. “Now, we can begin our training!”

#fatboy #ai #male wg #fat bhm #wg fiction #weight gain story

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thefanficmonster · 1 year ago

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One hell of a love story

Steve Brodt x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentioned Trespassing, Referenced Paranormal Investifations

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What modern love story doesn't feature a bit of crime and paranormal activity?

When two posts broke the color monotony of Steve's Instagram everyone - except Dylan, of course - was rather surprised. Not so much the sudden pop of color, but rather the content of the images.

The photos being of a beachside sunset featuring a lovey-dovey couple.

What those pictures don't reveal is the long, long story behind them, behind the relationship they display. They show the progression, but not the roots....and the tiny criminal activity they include.

So, allow me to tell you the story, for the purpose of which I will take you back to five years ago. Back before Haunted Nights was officially up and running.

A solo urban explorer and a solo paranormal investigator.

Steve knew it was a bad idea going to this warehouse when he it first came to his attention. Although it was visually in an abandoned state, it was still privately owned and under surveillance. So, despite being very used to jumping the occasional gate or fence to get into places, this one specific instance was a rather clear case of trespassing waiting to happen.

And it wouldn't have been at all like Steve to keep it waiting.

With a backpack loaded with some cheap ghost hunting equipment over his shoulder, he made his way to the warehouse, a mask covering his nose and mouth. He did a great job keeping himself incognito and below the radar as he watched each and every step he took, leaves and branches cracking beneath his feet on a few inevitable instances.

He was well aware of the risk he was taking. But it was a temptation he couldn't refuse. He'd been hearing ghost stories stemming from this very place ever since he moved to the town. He just had to live one of those said stories himself to believe it.

Little did he know he'd live a whole different genre of a story.

Three floors and an underground storage unit and nothing. Nothing concrete anyway. No activity with the motion detectors, unrelated words coming in through the Ovilus and no physical activity. Whatever energy may have been stuck between those walls wasn't intelligent or just wasn't in the mood to talk. So, to prevent his trip and taken risks to be in vain, Steve resorted to taking some pictures of the place and the surrounding area.

As creepy as it looked, it was still a beautiful location to capture a few shots of with the underlying agenda of maybe possibly catching something in the photos he couldn't spot with his naked eye.

He'd eventually figured out a way to climb up to the roof which was a pretty bad idea for several reasons. For one, that roof didn't look anywhere near safe to withstand the weight of a human, not to mention he wasn't particularly sure on how he'd get down without injury but hell, he decided he'd cross that bridge when he'd get to it.

And last, and potentially most, was the danger of being spotted by the aforementioned surveillance.

To Steve's utter dismay, that last one was the one that got him in the end.

He'd taken a seat on one of the more solid looking panels to look through the footage he'd captured when he heard the unmistakable sound of car tires over leaves and gravel. All color immediately drained from his face.

Scurrying as quietly as he could up to his feet and over to the opening he'd climbed up through, he found himself forgetting all his previous concerns regarding getting down unscathed. His decade long experience going into abandoned places came in real handy when he managed to land on his feet rather steadily from such a high drop.

He was in the middle of debating whether to make a run for it or hide until the coast was clear when he heard hurried footsteps approaching, giving him no time to pick either option before a figure rounded the corner and startled the ever-loving daylights out of him.

Except, it wasn't a cop. Something he immediately picked up on from the attire - which included a face mask much like his own and a pair of fingerless gloves - and backpack.

Steve knows an urban explorer when he sees one and this girl fit all the criteria.

He was quick to press his finger up to his lips, sliding his mask under his chin to be able to mouth "Cops" to her, eliciting a nod in response.

"We need to hide." She whispers, clearly having taken in his appearance and deemed him one of her own instead a threat she should be mindful of along with the cops that just pulled up to the site.

Fleeting was no longer an option when they heard the boom of someone's voice echoing off the walls in a shout, provoking the trespassers to show themselves.

Although his newfound companion was frozen like a deer in headlights, giving him a look of terror, Steve was luckily thinking on his feet.

With barely a couple seconds to spare, he grabbed the girl's hand, hoping to God it wouldn't earn him a slap, and whispered a quick, "Let's go..." as he tilted his head in the direction of a long hallway leading to the underground unit entrance.

He gave her a second to agree, which she thankfully did with a very accentuated nod, before the two took off down the hall, cringing at the loud thumping of their footsteps.

His heart was beating against his ribcage, blood pounding in his ears. He wouldn't be this anxious over the whole ordeal has he still been alone. The weird need to protect his companion was driving him into a faster running speed and more complex ideas.

"There..." He pointed to the gated off stairwell to the lower level, completely out of breath as he carried on to explain: "Hop the gate, I'll make a distraction."

"What if they catch you?" She whispered back, her voice further muffled by the mask she was still wearing.

Clearly, the need to protect was mutual.

Out of instinct, he gave her hand a comforting squeeze, reminding himself to drop it, "They won't." With those reassuring words, they parted ways.

He lingered around almost a second too long to make sure she got over the gate ok before he booked it to a side exit, purposefully making a ton of noise, leaves crunching beneath the soles of his shoes.

Once he was certain it'd be enough to mislead the cop(s?) that had entered the building, he made a beeline for a window he'd taken notice of earlier while he was exploring the underground unit. It was just wide enough for him to squeeze through and hop down. Just in the nick of time, as well, seeing as how there was barely five seconds of time between the sound of his feet hitting the floor and the footsteps of a cop running out to where he'd made the diversion just moments prior.

Standing stiff as a statue, he listened as the cop spoke into his radio, "I scared the fuckers off." He muffled the sigh of relief that escaped his lips with the back of his hand.

He made a point of waiting to hear the car driving off the property before going to seek out the girl. Props to her - although the space wasn't particularly large, he couldn't pin point her location even after scoping out the area for the third time.

"Hey!" He whisper-yelled, still wary of raising his voice, "The coast is clear!"

He watched in amusement, a smile tugging at his lips, as a lid of one of the empty crates was lifted, the girl emerging from within.

That's when all caution was tossed out the window as the two broke out into laughter.

"Come on, let's get you out of there." Steve said, taking the lid from her and setting it on the ground before taking a hold of her hands, helping her stay balanced as she hopped her way out of the crate.

"Damn, was it hard to breathe in there." She chuckled, finally removing her mask, flashing a bright smile at Steve in the process.

Would it be an upmost cliché to say he was enamored right off the bat? Maybe, probably. But it'd definitely not be a lie. She was indeed beautiful, he was aware of it before she even took the mask of. However now, with her full face on display there was no denying it. The tension had been lifted off her shoulders, replaced by her usual lightheartedness.

He had to recalibrate himself for a moment to regain cognitive thought and remember how to function in human interactions. He successfully managed to extend his hand for a handshake, "I'm Steve, by the way."

She captured it with hers immediately, his smile impossibly brightening, "Y/N. Nice to meet you, Steve. And thanks, I owe you big time."

He shook his head, mind racing as to how to navigate the conversation without making an ass of himself, "Nah, you owe me nothing. Us urban explorers have to look out for one another."

Her eyebrows quirked up, "Ah, so my observation was right, we're in the same boat."

"Well, actually..." Steve smiled, slinging the backpack strap off his shoulder, setting it on the ground to unzip it, "I'm more of a paranormal investigator." He explained, showing Y/N the ghost hunting gadgets inside.

The look she gave him was nothing short of amazed, much to his relief, "No way! I love that! I've always been curious but never had the balls to do it. Not on my own at least." That last bit was added as more of an afterthought but it didn't fly under his radar.

"Well, if it means anything to ya, I've been told I'm great company for ghost busting." He's never been a flirt, ever. Not a successful one anyway. Well, not that he's often put himself in situations where quick wit and a few flirty remarks would come in handy. Still, even he's aware that he handled that well. He picked up what she put down.

And if her beaming smile was anything to go by, he did so well. "Aren't I glad to hear that." She too reached inside her backpack, rummaging around for a few seconds before plucking out a pen and handing it to him, "Maybe you could show me the ropes, instruct me on how to use those thingies." She pointed at his ghost hunting equipment and offering him her arm. An action that earned her a puzzled look from him, causing her to giggle sheepishly, "I have nothing to write on, the arm will have to do. That is if you wanna give me your contact info, of course. No pressure."

All hesitation evaporated as soon as it had plagued her mind when, with the goofiest smile, Steve accepted the offered arm and jotted down his phone number.

"Thank you." She smiled, cheeks flushed.

"No, no. You'll thank me only after I've made a ghost hunter out of you." He mused back, cranking his charm up to eleven and hoping for the best.

"I'll take those words to heart."

"And I'm giving them to you as a promise."

With said that and a professional handshake to officialize it, the two made a deal. A deal that would kickstart a series of wild explorations, fun - and some slightly terrifying - memories, stories they'll be retelling their whole lives. And, of course, a company.

A company known as Haunted Nights.

That intel makes the caption under the aforementioned posts much clearer.

"It's my pleasure to introduce you to the cofounder of Haunted Nights, who also happens to be my fiancée @y/n_hn"

To top it all off, we have Dylan's comment right underneath.

@snevets_nalyd: I can't believe she said yes @y/n_hn blink twice if you need help

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annimator-ocblog · 3 months ago

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I’m fucking bored so here’s a random fact for all 36 of my OCs

• Lance drank motor oil one time, and now they drink it like coffee

• Aaron doesn’t like FPS games

• Macy made Iris binge One Piece so she could understand why she so excited over Gear 5 getting animated

• Iris wasn’t interested in One Piece despite everything Macy’s told her about it until Luffy popped out of that GOD DAMN BARREL-

• Zac’s favourite key is G major and it’s solely because it’s the same key used in WTTBP

• Tae doesn’t like BTS. Mainly because of the stans

• Jadeyn has an entire sketchbook filled with sonadow fanart & half of those drawings have ended up becoming street graffiti

• Cameron went an entire week solely eating instant ramen (they wanted to try eating it for entire month, but Jadeyn convinced him not to do that)

• Marcus learned lesbians existed through seeing Alphys & Undyne’s relationship in Undertale

• Liam thought Zeus was cool until he learned he kept cheating on his wife because of how constantly horny he is for other woman

• Mercy stole the fanny pack she wears in their design from a high-end designer store

• Geno makes relentless your mom jokes to people that piss her off

• Parker’s favourite Steven Universe characters are Lapis & Peridot

• Brio can sense whenever someone in their team breaks spaghetti

• Orion’s favourite historical moment was when the Queen of England died

• Edan ate an entire jar of peppers in one sitting as a kid

• Skadi’s favourite mythological creature is the Wendigo

• Lilith & Clover may or may not have picked a fight with a dozen people in the woods & left them to die after winning said fight

• Nova still believes Pluto is a planet

• Ro favorite hand sign is this; 👌

• Dylan eats snow to the dismay of literally everyone (except Kai)

• Kai’s favourite arctic animal are beluga whales

• Amos didn’t sleep for 3 solid days after chugging an entire coffee jug for fun

• Emily can recite every single MLP song from memory

• Emmet doesn’t like MLP

• Terra has every single constellation memorized

• Chrome loves Dr. Stone & likes how it implements actual science in it’s plot & story

• Rowan has a soft spot for any & all types of critters

• Leo’s favourite art piece is Memorial To A Marriage

• Madeleine plays Cookie Run Kingdom religiously

• Atlas keeps getting away with breaking & entering into a bunch of places, & nobody knows how he keeps pulling it off

• Brooks likes water parks. a lot

• Mateo drop-kicked a fascist guy in the face one time, and it’s the second best moment of his life besides him & Brooks getting together

#oc fact

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holedaemon · 9 months ago

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Ass Respect 2

Saturday, myself and Ari (@freakpatrol) finished up Mass Effect 2, after less than a week of playing. We played for idk, a little bit.

My friend Dylan put it well: Mass Effect 1 is one of those games you'd see in a "learn to make video games at DeVry University" commercial. It's clunky, inaccessible, and a slog.

Mass Effect 2 is smooth, accessible, and fun. Genuinely one of my favorite games ever.

THE GOOD PART 1: GAME MECHANICS

So far, Mass Effect is iterative. Each game takes the last and builds upon it. I don't know the history of development, but it's clear that Bioware saw the issues in the first game and went "hey, let's make this better." For instance,

The game is more accessible. Menus are easier to navigate and much more comprehensive. Shit makes sense. Things are actually explained to you, you aren't just left to guess how things work, or where you're supposed to go.

Following the theme of iteration, stuff that was lacking in 1, has been improved upon:

In the first game, there was only one minigame that was used for everything. It was basically just frogger; get your little arrow to the center of a circle, avoiding the obstacles that send you back to the start. It got to be annoying after the 1,400th time you did it. In 2, there are two distinct minigames mostly used for hacking/accessing technology and areas. The first is a match-the-symbols game, pretty self explanatory, the second is a code-matching game, where you match blocks of text with what's shown in the legend. They're not perfect but they're SOOOOO much better than what we had before.

Next: the star map. The galaxy is a big, expansive place. Before, you kinda just clicked on a system, went there, scanned a couple of planets for collection quests/resource gathering, then went to whatever planet your mission was at. Now, you actually have to travel to different systems manually. You pilot your ship between systems, using up fuel to do so. I wasn't super keen about it at first, but it grew on me. The overview of the galaxy also shows you your active quests, which is super nice.

In the same vein, the resource gathering is much more in depth. Before you could click on planets and sometimes would have the option to scan them for stuff. It was very shallow. In the sequel, you can scan pretty much every planet; it's a minigame in itself. Right-click and drag along the globe to find pockets of resources, then click to send a probe down to collect them. You can find element zero, palladium, iridium, and platinum. Each can be used for different kinds of research, which is used to upgrade you, your gear, your squadmates, their gear, and the Normandy. It's much more fleshed out and actually pretty fun. To Ari's dismay, I would sit and suck those planets dry looking for shit.

Also extremely important to mention: the side missions. They're SO much better now. Rather than going to some prefab & shooting enemies, each one is actually fleshed out and substantial. THEY ALSO GOT RID OF THE MAKO!!!! NO MORE OF THAT STUPID ASS CAR!!!! NO MORE TRYING TO SHIMMY YOUR WAY UP A MOUNTAIN FOR 20 MINUTES!!! IT'S GREAT!!!!

One minor thing I appreciate is that you don't loot inventories for items anymore. You mostly just pick up credits, resources, and ammo, which is much preferable. The inventories full of crap back in 1 were jarring and really took you out of the game.

That reminds me: ammo. Before, you had infinite ammo, your gun would just heat up with each shot, and if you filled the meter, it would have to cool down. Well, they ditched that in favor of ammo pickups. Enemies drop ammo, or the pickups will just be placed around the map. Apparently this was a controversial change, but I like it a lot more than before, it introduces a new challenge.

Along with ammo are your powers. They really made biotics a viable thing here. They're fun, they're powerful, they can really kick some ass if you use them correctly. I didn't make much use of them, but I appreciate the work that was put into improving them.

Just a few more things. I promise I'm almost done.

Overall, the game felt a lot more difficult. I felt substantially weaker; shit would tear through my shields like they were nothing. Bioware also did away with medi-gel, kinda. You still have it, but it's exclusively for your teammates if they go down. To regain health, you have to take cover. This made it a lot more challenging, I couldn't just spam heal in the middle of a battle, I actually had to strategize and hold positions. I like it.

The last major improvement they made was to the squad AI. It was actually worth a damn now. Squadmates would actually get kills and it was glorious. It didn't leave me feeling like I was totally on my own like before.

Also they got rid of omni-gel, but I don't think anyone cared.

THE GOOD PART 2: THE WORLD

Ohhhhh my god the world. It really hit me just how much better the atmosphere and level design was when we got to Omega. It's in the terminus systems, which are systems that are ungoverned by the citadel and the council. Omega is basically the citadel for crime lords; it's a dirty, slummy neighborhood on an asteroid. If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for settings like that (read: see Dorohedoro), so I LOVED Omega. Anyways: the world. It's so much more alive!!! When you touch down on a new location, everything really hits you all at once. There's people to talk to, places to go, things to see, it was great. The ambience was so much more potent; there's always some conversation going on in the background. The levels themselves were much less linear feeling, you could really explore & go anywhere. It wasn't like the citadel in the first game, which was so annoying to traverse.

The most important part of any world is its characters and Mass Effect 2 did not disappoint. In terms of races, it was mostly the same with a few newcomers: like the Vorcha. They're cool gremlin-looking dudes that slum around Omega & work in merc groups. There's a lot of prejudice towards them unfortunately. They're regarded as dumb vermin by pretty much every other race. People hate them more than they hate Batarians. It sucks cause they're actually pretty cool!

Speaking of Batarians, we got to see them a lot more, too. Unfortunately not in better conditions than the previous game; still mostly depicted as mercs, terrorists, and slavers.

There was also the Drell: anthropomorphic lizard guys. We only saw.... 2? Your squadmate, Thane, and his son. They're apparently near extinction. :( Their home world was destroyed, somehow, and they were taken in by the Hanar. Their relationship with the Hanar was symbiotic, the Drell lived on their planet and in return, as put by Ari, they do anything for the Hanar that "required having bones."

Another cool race we saw ONLY ONE OF, were the Yahg. The only one we saw happened to be the Shadow Broker. He was cool & tough, not much to say about him, but I liked him a lot.

I also wanna briefly touch on the enemies in the game.

The big bads were the Collectors. A race of bug-like aliens that were very elusive. In reality, they're actually Protheans that've been cultivated and genetically modified by the Reapers. Much like the Keepers on the citadel. Cool dudes.

Besides the Collectors, you were blasting mercs, which I loved. There's three distinct groups: the Blood Pack, the Eclipse, and the Blue Suns. Each group comprised of different species, with their own gimmicks.

The Collectors also had some new creatures in their ranks. Among the Husk, there were Scions. Scions are cool, grotesque Husk-like abominations. I like them a lot, but don't get me wrong: they SUCK. I died SO MUCH TO THEM. They have this long-range shockwave attack that's nigh impossible to dodge. Absolute bastards.

As for your teammates, a lot of newcomers, but some friendly faces too. Most notably Garrus. I love Garrus, he's my boy. We fucked. Tali also came back, I'll talk about her more in a bit.

Anyway, among the ranks were:

Miranda - total cunt. The Ashley of Mass Effect 2. Absolutely miserable to be around. I didn't speak to her unless I had to.

Jacob - Polite soldier type. He was cool but I didn't really care about him.

Mordin - MY PROBLEMATIC FAVE. He's a crazy, fast-talking, oldhead Salarian. We found him on Omega working on a cure for a plague that was going around. First and foremost, he's a genius scientist, but he also has combat training & can hold his own. At one point he sang a Salarian sea shanty, and then another time he was like "hey Shepard I saw that you moved your eyes in a funny way, btw I don't wanna fuck." Totally awesome dude. The thing that makes him problematic is he, well, modified the Genophage to be more effective. He quite literally sterilized the Krogan further and committed genocide. As the story progresses, he shows some remorse for his actions. I LOVE LOVE LOVE Mordin.

Thane - the aforementioned Drell that you encounter. He's a master assassin- really cool dude. Very calm & collected; prays to different deities before every kill, I dig it. He's also dying, that sucks. Love my boy Thane.

Samara - an Asari Justicar, which are highly esteemed warriors in their culture. Almost like ninja monks. They pretty much have immunity from any legal repercussions. They live by the code, an ancient set of scriptures that basically tell them to kill anyone that sucks or tries to hurt them. Samara is, as Ari put it, "the most autistic woman in the galaxy." She's awesome, has a really tragic backstory. We killed her daughter.

Jack - Oh Jack. She's a high level biotic that was experimented on as a child by the terrorist group Cerberus. Tortured for most of her early life in a facility you go back to and blow up with her. She's a volatile bottle rocket of anger & angst, ready to explode at a moment's notice, and also the hottest woman in the galaxy. You can't romance her as fem Shepard, which is a fucking TRAVESTY. I love Jack so much.

Zaeed & Kasumi - not even worth talking about.

GRUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - MY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He is your Krogan squadmate for the game. Bred in a tank by the late Dr. Okeer. He's grumpy and ready to kill anything that moves. He was born literally yesterday & I would die for him. For his loyalty mission you take him to TUCHANKA!!!! THE KROGAN HOME WORLD!!! It's a fucking disaster of a planet, it looks like every level from a late aughts military shooter. But guess who you can fucking see there??? WREX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you chose to save him on Virmire, he has since returned home & become the leader of his own clan: the Urdnot. The Urdnot are the dominant clan on Tuchanka and are trying to reunify the planet and its clans. My boy Wrex is delighted to see you. He's really thrived on Tuchanka, becoming a very stoic leader, but very visibly happy.

A lot of the Krogan you encounter on Tuchanka are mean to Grunt because he was tank-born. But not Wrex, the old merc sees right past this & welcomes Grunt to try his might in the rite: the ritual that Krogan perform as they enter adulthood. The rite is basically just a tower defense game, culminating in fighting a Thresher Maw. If you succeed, Grunt is welcomed into clan Urdnot. Grunt still chooses to tag along with you in your mission, as you are his Battlemaster. He really comes to respect you over the course of the game, I love to see it.

Tali'Zorah - It's Tali, baby. She's back. She's finished her Pilgrimage & is working for the Quarian fleet. I specifically wanted to mention her because her loyalty mission is actually really cool. After her recruitment, Tali is called back to the Quarian fleet, having been accused of treason. You see, after her mission on one of the former Quarian colony worlds (where you save and recruit her), she sends deactivated Geth parts back to the fleet for her father to do research on. Due to the research being done, this backfires, the Geth are reactivated, and kill the entire ship, including Tali's father. We learn this during the hearing, and everyone is shocked. As a way to clear her name, Tali & Shepard go to the ship the Geth are on and clear it out. I really like this mission because it adds a lot of depth to the Quarians & their culture. I loved seeing the Flotilla; the architecture of the old, second-hand ships they travel the galaxy with. Meeting more Quarians was a delight too. Easily one of my favorite races in the series; their conflict with the Geth is complicated & tragic, and I'm eager to see how it plays out.

AND FINALLY....

LAST BUT NOT LEAST....

THE MAN OF THE HOUR....

MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE COMPANION...

LEGION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - PERHAPS THE COOLEST COMPANION EVER, BESIDES WREX..... I didn't know of his existence until he was introduced. Ari was very careful not to tell me about him, and I'm thankful for it. I love him so much. Legion is a Geth. A true Geth. One that is not following the Reapers. It turns out, the Geth we've been fighting for the last few years are actually a faction of "heretics" that broke off from the main group. The main group are still peaceful & reclusive. I really, really, really love this twist because it adds so much more depth to the Geth. It gives them reason to be, more than just a fodder enemy for the Reapers. It makes them more complicated. The Geth are vilified across the galaxy & the reason AI have become illegal, but they're really just misunderstood. During Legion's loyalty mission, you are tasked with destroying the heretics. Except you have a choice; you can destroy them, or save them & rewrite the code that's made them submit to the Reapers. It's a morally ambiguous mission- I took the latter route, opting to save them and rewrite them. It feels wrong to do that, but it's better than genocide... Anyway, yeah, Legion: absolute favorite part about Mass Effect 2. Everyone is hesitant to have him aboard the Normandy, but he rocks & I would die for him.

THE BAD

That was a lot, if you've gotten this far, thanks. I have a lot less to say about the game from here on out, as it's a really fun and good experience. But as with anything, there's always some bad.

These aren't even necessarily super bad things, just stuff that irked me. Primarily:

Stability - the game's a lil buggy. There were weird animation errors & at one point I crashed entirely. Ari was also unable to play in windowed mode for some reason, which made watching me stream a pain, since they had to watch on their phone. They're gonna get a second monitor here soon, though. 👁️

UI & Controls - extremely nitpicky, but, a few times, dialogue options and weapons in my wheel would switch around. I don't really know why, but it got me a few times. The bigger thing was the controls on the galaxy map: if you pressed escape, it would kick you out of the map entirely. Very annoying.

The DLC - I'm not really sure what all was DLC, because it was included in the legendary edition of the games. But the DLC characters, Zaeed and Kasumi, were fucking nothing. Just empty husks of characters, lacking all depth & interesting story. I did their missions for completion's sake but they were fucking stupid.

The final boss - SUPER SUPER COOL CONCEPT!!! It's a fucking Reaper shaped like a skeletal human, it was so awesome looking, but the fight itself was underwhelming and lacking. I did it in a single try. Literally I had more trouble getting to it than fighting it. You basically just shot its weak spots until it died.

Weapon mods - they got rid of them!! I thought that was a bummer, I liked the customization they offered in the first game.

All in all...

Mass Effect 2 is a fantastic game. Easily a contender for one of my favorite of all time. The world, the characters, the story, it's all fantastic. It really took the basis the first game left & expanded upon it in such a cool way. We've since started 3, and I'm already thinking "oh this is not nearly as good as 2."

Thanks again to Ari for playing it w/ me. It's nice to actually experience and enjoy games again. Having a partner to go through it with has made it 10 times more enjoyable.

The one last thing I have to say about the game is that I really enjoy how everybody calls you Shepard exclusively. At one point, during a conversation with Liara, I thought to myself, "wait, what's Shepard's first name?" That's when I remembered, I named her Obama. Obama Shepard. Ari laughed at me.

Again, if you read this far, I appreciate it. I'm sure once we've finished 3, I'll have even more to say.

With Love,

Obama Shepard

#mass effect #spoilers #ari #ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #games

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