#broad-gage

[azuronel]

went a little more realistic this time to practice faces and make references for my Obey Me AU. Anyway did I mention I had an Obey Me AU that I’ve been cooking? (it came free with the inconsistent writing)

Written out Notes under the cut:

Lucifer

Angular features

Eyes look like solar eclipses after his pupils used to glow as an angel (so you can see where he’s looking)

Looks like a corpse because his blood is bluish now, he appears very pale. Not helped by stress + lack of sleep

His fangs poke out (vampire drip)

Mammon

Square, broad features

Give him piercings! Are his fangs natural or implants after getting decked?

Eyes are like lapis lazuli, and gold pyrite freckles in his skin

Mullet. He looks like he’s stuck in the 70s

BD//SM collar because he’s Babygirl. Insists it’s an edgy statement piece

Leviathan

Round features, with some sharp points

Has shark teeth + third eyelids

Hair is actually straight, crinkles up from water

Ruri-Chan and Azuki-Tan earrings

Blue/purplish blood

Eyebags from lack of sleep from gaming

Headphones cause if he doesn’t have something to listen to he panics

Satan

Angular features

Looks a lot like Lucifer

Bleaches his hair

Tufts of hair like cat ears

Gages + earrings + nose ring

Little fangs poking out

Dark Academia Vibes (library girlie)

Asmodeus

Doll-like, round features

Eyes look hypnotic

Heart markings all over body. Start to “drip” in demon form

Doll-like outfits, fashionable so people desire him (Mass Marketing of the Self)

Tongue is much longer

Two sets of fangs (one w/ Aphrodisiac injectors)

Beelzebub

Strong, rectangular features

Sun motif in hair and earrings

Chunk taken out of his ear from a fight

Eyes are ultraviolet colored

The most human-looking of the bros

Tanned but part of his hues are gone after years in the Devildom

Belphegor

Rounded, elongated features

I made him way too pretty for his goblin ass

Eyes look like night sky-ultraviolet too

Vitiligo so he looks like a cow

Moon phase studs

Underside of hair is white, top is dark blue w/ streaks

Septum piercing for cow motif

[splendidunboyfriendable]

hold on pt 2 (brian quinn x reader)

Part One: Hold Me Back

Part Two: Hold Me Down

The car was barely parked before Brian started kissing you. He grabbed you by your neck, his touch desperate and starved. He was leaned over centre console, pressing as much of his body against you as he could. You could practically taste his cologne. He pulled away, the rage in his eyes had turned to lust. 

"Get out of the car now," He said. "unless you want to be fucked in it."

You followed him into the apartment building. He held your hand, walking in front of you, as you made it up the steps to his place. You looked at his broad shoulders in a lust-filled daze. He shoved his key into the lock, almost ripping the door off its hinges, getting into the apartment. You shut the door behind the two of you and he dragged you to the couch.

He pulled you closer to him by the waistband of your shorts. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. You could feel the longing in his touch, an energy you were doing your best to match. You laid back on the couch, his hands brushed over every inch of your body. He pulled down your shorts, smirking at the sight of your underwear. 

"I can't believe you wore a thong underneath those." He traced along the edges of the fabric.

"Would you rather the whole club see my panty lines?" You said, shivering a little from exposure to the cold air.

"Don't talk back," He scolded. "it won't do you any favours."

He admired your shirt, feeling up your chest through the fabric. He pulled it over your head, chucking it across the room haphazardly.

"That top was so see through," He muttered. "I bet everyone could see how much of a whore you are." 

He leaned back into you, kissing you once more. His hands reached under your back and unfastened your bra. You hurriedly took it off, eager to keep kissing him.You rolled your hips, desperate for him to touch you but he held you down. You whimpered in respone but he quieted your whining with a dirty look.

"I'll have to mark you up to make sure everyone knows not to touch you." He muttered darkly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You could feel his eyes on you, trying to gage a reaction. He was normally quite gentle when it came to sex, only exploring his rougher side when he needed to take out his anger on something. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like him treating you nicely but there was something about angry sex that made you cum harder.

"Please." You looked up at him with begging eyes. 

He caught his lip between his teeth, exhaling deeply. You could tell he was really enjoying this. He pulled you over his lap, his hands running across the skin of your exposed ass. 

"Tell me if you want me to stop and I will," He said seriously. "okay, sweetheart?"

"Okay." You answered breathlessly.

He brought his hand down hard against your skin, making you moan into the sofa cushions. Before you could lift your head, he did it again. You could practically see the bruises on your ass already. The quick sting of pain and the humilation of the position made your brain go fuzzy.

Every hit turned you into more and more of slut for him. The friction of your clit rubbing against your panties was enough to make you cry. The pleasure was amplified with each impact, causing you to squirm.

You couldn't close your mouth, it was stuck open, moaning and mewling at the sensations. His hand came down again and again and again, until the pillow under your face is soaked with your tears and drool. Your eyelids feel thick and heavy. He let you take a break for a moment before he lifted you up and positioned you on his lap. 

He gently wiped away your tears, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Does it hurt?" He asked.

You nodded your head, resting it against his chest.

"It's okay, baby," He said, rubbing your back. "I know it's not your fault. You're obidient and that's good."

You kept your breathing in time with his heartbeat. The sound of his voice was the only thing in the world to you at that moment.

"But you need to know who to listen to," He continued. "or else things like this will happen."

He pulled you off his chest, holding you face to meet his gaze. Even though your eyes are glazed over and your vision's blurry, you can still make out all the little crinkles around his eyes that pop up when he looks at you that way. A mix of loving concern and devotion for you.

"Who are you going to listen to, sweetheart?" He said, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"You." You rubbed your watery eyes.

"Who owns you?" He asked.

"You." You repeated.

"There we go," He smiled. "now, I can make you feel good."

"Thank you."

"You're doing so well." He said, kissing up your neck. 

You buck your hips against his growing erection, his hands came down to guide your movements. His guidance was painfully slow, teasing you. You thought of how he felt inside you. How he'd thrust himself inside you right against your sweet spot. How he'd hook your legs over his shoulders so he could fuck you as deeply as possible. The way he'd look at you in missionary, those big brown eyes edging you closer and closer to orgasm. 

"Please," You begged him. "please, I need you inside me."

"Tell me how much you want it." He said, stopping all movement between the two of you, leaving your throbbing against him.

"Please, Brian," You pleaded. "please, I need it so bad. I need to feel your cock inside me. I need you to make me into your slut. I need you to make me yours."

"That's my girl." He kissed your cheek.

He pulled your underwear off your body, leaving you completely undressed while he was still completely clothed. He laid you on your back, parting your legs. You felt him work his fingers inside you, gently pumping them in and out, at a steady pace. His digits grazed your sweet spot, his thumb gently stroked your clit in slow circles.

His lips connected to your neck, sucking a string of deep love bites into your neck. Beautiful dark purple and red bruises decorated you. Each mark a reminder of how whipped he is for you. You moaned into his ear, motivating him to bite harder.

He increased his pace with each shudder from you, pulling away from your throat. You could feel his hot breath against your neck. He was filling you up with his fingers, his breath and his love.

"I'm close," You whimpered. "I'm so close, please don't stop."

"Sorry, baby," He pulled his fingers out of you. "but you're not cumming like that."

"Brian." You whined.

"You're going to take what I give you," He said. "and you're going to be grateful. So cut the attitude."

You nodded sourly, lying in anticipation. 

He took off his shirt, discarding it on the floor with your clothes. Then came his pants. He undid his belt and laid it under his coffee table, his fly came down much too slow. You felt the warmth of his naked body pressed against yours, the tip of his cock grazing your hole. He pushed himself inside you gingerly, pausing so you could adjust to the feeling. 

You took deep breaths, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out. You nodded at him to move but he stayed put. When you tried to move yourself, his hands held you down by your hips.

"What do you say, sweetheart?" He teased.

"Please." You breathed.

"And?" He continued, tightening his grip.

"Thank you." You said. 

He smirked down at you and started shallow thrusts. You held his biceps as he gently rocked in and out of you. You pulled him closer, your lips meeting. His pace quickened and became sloppier as your kiss grew more passionate. The new bruises on your ass added pain to the mix, making you squirm against his touch. 

"You look so beautiful like this," He praised. "so pretty, acting like a whore for me."

He kissed you messily between off-beat thrusts, leaving saliva running down your chin and wetting his facial hair. Your eyes fluttered closed, you were focused solely on how good he was making you feel, barely able to string together a sentence. His brutal pace being the culprit. You could feel a knot building in your stomach, desperate for release. You knew Brian wouldn't let you unless you gave him what he wanted.

"Please," You begged. "please can I cum?"

"Not yet." He said.

He pulled out completely, leaving you clenching around nothing but air. He rested your legs on his shoulders and pushed himself back inside you roughly. The feeling of his dick filling you completely was enough to make you see stars. You could feel your eyes start to glaze over as he continued hard and fast. You pressed your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming.

"No, baby," He moved your hands away. "I need to hear you."

"Can't," You whimpered. "I can't hold it, please."

"Aw, you can't handle it," He teased. "am I too good for you?"

"So good, Brian," You said breathlessly. "you make me feel so good."

"Who's the only one who can make you feel like this?" He spoke, keeping up his rhythm.

"You," You whined, your eyes rolling back. "only you."

"Okay, you can cum," He allowed. "cum all over my dick, sweetheart."

"Brian!" You cried as you dug your fingernails into his back.

The knot in your stomach unloosed all at once, overwhelming pleasure taking over you. He kept going until his thrusts became lazy. You rode out your high, tears rolled down your cheeks from the overstimulation as he chased his own orgasm. You felt his hot cum spill inside of you as you clenched around his dick. You breathed heavily underneath him, full of his cum and finally his completely.

"God almighty." He moaned, collapsing down onto you.

"Brian!" You tried to push him off you but he was too heavy. "At least pull out."

"No," He mumbled into your ear. "I want to keep my cum inside you."

"You're so gross." You giggled.

He rolled off you and picked up his shirt from the ground, chucking at you to wear. He put his boxers back on and laid back on the couch, gesturing for you to lie on him. The back of your head rested on his shoulder and his arm grabbed your waist. 

"I'm going to kill those fucking guys."

[hrefna-the-raven]

The dress

Main masterlist - Fallout masterlist

Summary: you found a well preserved dress from the pre-war era and you just had to try it on

Warnings: smut (18+)

Notes: I got sidetracked by Gage's charm 😅

Gage loosely draped the towel around his waist and marched into the spacious chamber of the Fizztop Grille. Having spent an entire day of shooting through ghoul infested areas, crawling through the dirt and almost getting knocked out by the spinning carousel, you had the audacity to shove him aside to shower first. You might have been the Overboss, but he was the one to put you in that position and as he spent time with you, he grew soft on you but that would end now. He was determined to draw a clear line when it came to shower privileges.

"Now listen up bo-"

He stopped in his tracks, finger still lifted, his eyes glued to your form. You were standing by the window, your damp hair cascading down, gracefully running your hands along your curves as you spun around in that delightful teal blue tea swing dress you had stumbled upon earlier. The V neckline dipped just below your breasts, revealing just enough to set Gage's mind ablaze. He wanted to be mad but he remained rooted to the spot, as though struck by lightning, unable to move a single muscle apart from the stirring between his legs. He swallowed a moan that was forming in the back of his throat, unsure whether he wanted to run out of the room or kiss you right then and there. You finally turned around, your eyes meeting his and with a broad smile on your lips and you danced over to him.

"I think I gonna keep this one, it looks gorgeous. I haven't been able to wear anything like this since before the bombs dropped, it's a miracle this dress is in such a good condition after two centuries."

You hummed, spinning around but were abruptly stopped by Gage's hands holding your shoulders. For a short moment the air crackled with that sweet anticipation, both of you staring at each other. It was strange gazing into both of his hazel green eyes, hardened by the life he lead and yet holding an alluring beauty to them. Before you could utter a single word, his lips crashed onto yours, pouring all the love he tried to hide from you into this one passionate kiss. Breaking away first, he chuckled softly as he struggled to catch his breath. His calloused fingers tenderly brushed aside a stray strand of hair from your face before caressing your cheek.

"You're a real stunner, you know that?", he spoke in a gentle voice.

"And you're a big old softie", you hummend in response, earning a heartfelt laughter from Gage, "so what comes next?"

"Next?", a mischievous smirk formed on his lips, "the fun stuff."

His hand lifted up the hem of your dress while he placed his other hand between your thighs. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the lack of underwear.

"Naughty boss", he chuckled, dragging two fingers along your folds.

You moan shamelessly, running your fingers over his growing bulge underneath the towel.

"Seems your just as naughty", you smirked.

The sounds spilling from his lips as you kept caressing him are delicious, the sweetest melody played for your ears only. You gasped when he pushed two fingers into you, curling them slightly as he kept thrusting them at a merciless pace. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your head tilting back, eyes shut tight, attempting to resist the approaching orgasm. Gage charmed his way into your heart the moment you set eyes on him. His gravelly voice, the irresistible grin and that big heart buried under the many layers of a hard life, it was impossible to not fall for him.

Gage found himself trapped in the same situation the moment you stepped into the Gauntlet. That untouched pre-war beauty combined with the toughness and sarcasm pierced right through his heart. He knew instantly that there was no return from the feelings that grew deep within him. He managed to hold on until today, the resistance he clung to became futile the moment he saw you in that damned dress.

"Porter", you moaned, your gaze meeting his, lips parted slightly.

He growled deeply when he felt your walls clench around his fingers as you came undone, drowning in the pleasure he gave you. You chuckled, panting heavily while your mind was still hazy from the orgasm that just waashed over you. Gage licked his fingers clean, humming content as your sweet taste filled his mouth.

"I...I should maybe return the favour", you murmured, reaching to remove the towel, but he stopped you.

"Nah boss, I'm damn fine with watching you like this for now", he placed a gentle kiss on your lips, "ain't makin' promises for later though."

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story 😊

[bodyswapguy]

One day I was out walking and found a beautiful amulet. I gaged it and saw how pristine and shiny it looked on the sun and immediately put it on, checking my reflection on a car’s window I smiled, “what a nice necklace” I continued my walk back home and walked into the house and saw my Dad working in his office, dressed in a suit doing a zoom call talking about numbers and goals a bunch of other business jargon. It’s funny though, When I looked at him talk I felt this sudden desire “I wish I could switch bodies with my Dad” I had a sudden curiosity about what it’d be like to be my Dad. How odd i never thought about him like that before i never really cared for his suits and business calls but just now, I felt this pulling desire as i looked at him sit with his back straight and his deep voice filling his office room, I looked at his aged and matured face and the salt and pepper hair “Wow, My dad is pretty handsome, I wish I had his face.” I muttered to myself and felt myself get hard. “What is going on” I thought but looked at my Dads feet in his dress socks, My dad has really big feet and watching his socked feet rub each other was sending sparks through me “man Dad has such big feet and those dress socks look so enticing, I wish I could have Dads big feet” I said under my breath and rubbing my bulge, I’m glad my dad was so focused on work because I had been staring at him for a while, I couldn’t pull my focus something about him and his body, his persona, I wanted it for myself and I couldn’t pull myself away. My Dad cleared his throat and it sounded so deep but then I saw him adjust himself “I wonder what it’d be like to have his cock as my own, I bet his cock feels nice in those dress pants” I shook my head “What the fuck?!” I blurted out, I had never thought about my dad in that way ever and suddenly i was filled with desire, not to fuck him but to be him and this urgency was igniting my lust. i kept rubbing my bulge as a i continued to imagine myself in my dads position right now but the most peculiar thing happened because while he was listening to the other man on the zoom call I saw him rubbing his crotch gently through the suit pants and he sat their completely unfazed. My Dad wrapped up his call rather quickly as the moment progressed and i felt myself locked in time staring at my dad, rubbing my crotch, and picturing myself with the salt and pepper hair, wearing that suit and needing those glasses for reading and working on the computer, it was all too much. i started cumming and then i fainted and i heard a thud.

When i woke up I was looking at a computer and i felt i was wearing glasses. I shifted around in the chair i was sitting in and looked at my hands and the suit and the long legs stretched before me and the big feet clad in black dress socks “oh my fucking God I’m in my Dads body!” I yelled in his voice it’s a good thing the zoom call was over because I couldn’t contain my excitement as I felt the big suit over my broad shoulders and the tight necktie wrapped tightly around my neck, I could feel the Over the Calf dress socks wrapped up against my long calves and I let my big socked feet rub each other and i felt sparks inside my new body and that sent shivers all over this larger body and straight to my new cock! i jumped in my seat it was sensory overload feeling everything new i looked at my large withered and aged hands but loved it, i raised my palms to my face and examined my fingers and the prints and how the grooves were different from my former hands, it was like a firework show was going off in my body and each time I explored a new aspect of this body My lust would grow and I could feel my cock rock hard in the suit pants I rubbed and moaned “oahhh fuhhck” i moaned heavily “i could get use to this” i basked in the deep voice escape my lips and felt the bigger adams apple move through my neck. i pulled the pants and underwear down and got a proper look at my new cock “fuck yes!!!” I shucked them and grasped my thick cock, i was feeling like the most powerful man on the planet I gave it a stroke and immediately wanted to cum it felt so good but i gave myself a moment to catch my breath basking in how much air this large body needs, i gave it another tug and felt my Dads personality slip in like every stroke was Integrating me with this new body, I immediately became hooked as I would feel this sense of familiarity with this body like memories were pouring in and quirks and traits were surfacing to the top as if i were downloading my dad and I couldn’t enjoy it more! I began to fill more and more integrated with this body and life it was like downloading my Dads identity into my consciousness i continued to stroke feeling my big balls tense then finally let out the load of a lifetime as i felt myself become reborn in the new body and life of a middle aged handsome dilf businessman

I gasped and laughed and caught my breath feeling so fucking glad i had irreversibly switched bodies with my Dad!

I cleaned myself up and picked up my former body and set him in bed, hopefully he doesn’t become aware of the switch, I noticed the amulet on my former neck and grabbed it off him and put it into my breast pocket “i have a feeling wearing that necklace did this” i looked at my new reflection as i went back to my dads office and looked at the wall mirror and gaged my new face. I wouldn’t have wanted this but something in this necklace made me think otherwise. My cock bounced again and I was getting reading to rub another one out when suddenly a call coming from the laptop came up and i immediately knew it was another meeting. i smiled to myself fixed myself up and winked, still just wearing a suit and dress socks with no pants. I sat down and answered the call and began speaking as my dad with complete ease and as i began to lead the meeting suddenly speaking about things i would have no way of knowing but now do as my Dad i began to wow my colleagues and they praised me, I sat there with my cock bouncing from the charade of being my father was going so smoothly, it got me so hard they were using my new name, I could definitely get used to this i tugged on my cock gently as i continued to listen to the other speakers in the meeting

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Unique ways companions show affection: (part 1)

Cait:

She has a habit of being really physical but not enjoying actual contact with people on a day to day basis..however she can’t help it with someone she likes. It’s kinda strange but she’ll randomly tap you with whatever she has in her hands sometimes, even if it’s poking you in the rear with her bag or tapping your shoulder with a beer bottle..it’s just something her.

Curie:

Maybe one of the more subtle methods but she prefers to show her affection by learning every last little detail possible about something you take a liking to. Species of wasteland critter? Done. Plants? Done. Collection of nuka cola? Babes, she’ll figure out the recipes.

Danse:

He won’t even ask permission but he’ll “rectify” any “tactically disadvantageous attributes” of your weapons and armour. The upgrades are meticulous, skillful and honestly quite time consuming but he seems it nothing short of necessary.

Deacon:

It’s strange but sitting in silence, a good comfortable silence, is his prime form of showing affection. No dumb lies, snarky comments, or well thought through diversions..just enjoying each other’s company.

Gage:

For someone as gruff and frankly..feral..as him, his method of affection is probably a shocker. He’ll show it by cleaning up the places you frequent often. Nothing too crazy but just subtle tidying, maybe some nice decorations here and there…

Hancock:

Let’s be honest- Hancock is one hell of a lover in any respect imaginable. However when it comes to a more broad style of affection, his favorite method of expressing himself is by playing games. Yes, literal games. Chess, connect 4, I spy..you name it. Friends or lovers, it really doesn’t matter but just know he likes you enough to be silly and waste some time with you.

[damianwayne0]

Minecraft || (5)

(part 5)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 |part 6

Dick : can we eat before going? My hunger is at 2 . *Stomach growling*

Jason, rolling his eyes: yeah sure I guess. Come with me .

Damian: is there any vegetarian option?

Tim: seriously ?

Damian: no one asked you anything, idiot.

After eating:

Dick, burping while holding his stomach: I don't think I can move now.

Damian: And it's already night. Also Grayson stop burping near my face *disgusted*

Jason: yeah- *gets hit* what the- *looks down to see a baby zombie* *screams like a girl*

Dick , gets scared hearing Jason scream: What happened? * Sees Jason running away*

Tim : Can't you see the zombie running behind Jason?

Damian, who ran behind the zombie with his diamond sharpness 5 enchanted sword: Todd stop running! If you stop he will stop too!

Jason : mother fucker I can't risk it!!

Dick : Jason just fucking stoppp!

Tim, mutters underneath his breath : I hate this.*sigh*

One zombie baby dieing later :

Jason, panting : what the fuck just happened?

Dick : i also don't know.

Tim : wow Jason I can't believe you got scared because of a baby zombie * laughing*

Jason: Shut up replacement!

Tim : 🙄

Damian: why don't you give us a tour Todd?

Dick , agreeing: yeah, he is right.

Tim: I am also curious.

Jason: yeah , fine come with me .* Sighs*

The three boys then follow their brother. As Jason takes them to show his farm first . When they reach the farm. They see 10 traders captive and 10 lamas.

Dick , goes closer to see the tags on the lamas: who , are, you *name of the first three lamas*

Damian : Joe MaMa ? * reads the last two lamas.

At that point Tim was rolling on the floor while holding his stomach.

Jason: ..... .... .... Let's go somewhere else!.

Damian : yeah whats so ever.

After getting the tour, they sleep. The next day:

Dick , gaging: Eww little wing your morning breath smells ew

Damian , remembering last night : you probably didn't smell drakes fart than if you think todds breath is bad.

Tim, rolling his eyes : shut up gremlin!

Jason: enough! Let's just go ! You guys are making me want to die again. *sighs*

After reaching Y/n s house:

Jason : is that her house?

Damian: yeah.

Dick: woah so big!

Tim : did she made it herself?

Damian: yeah. I made the first floor only but she made the rest .

Jason, pointing : look there is a notice broad.

Tim: go then what are you waiting for? *Steps forward* * falls into a cave*

Jason, feed up: you deserve to be there .

Tim, from the cave : heyyyy! Get me out! I don't have any tools!!

Damian,face palming: * throws him a wooden piaxe*

Jason, to Tim : we are going forward replacement come fast!

Dick : I won't be available here . I am going to Tim's house. * Reading the broad*

Tim, who came from the cave with like 7 arrows says : what? Seriously? All that hard work for nothing!?

Jason , laughing: even Minecraft doesn't want you to be happy.

Damian, regretting his life decisions: why did I even come with y'all ? I better off mining my ass off .

Dick , tired : let's go to Tim's house again I guess?

Jason: 😂👍

Damian:😒👍

Tim :🥹👍

Notes • I hope you liked this and English isn't my first language so please ignore the mistakes and don't forget to like ^⁠_⁠^✨ .part 6 (last part) will come soon .

[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

Birthday Week Vignettes

*

As a little gift for my bestie and worstie, for her birthday week, I’ve written a selection of fun little vignettes (stretching the terms fun, little and vignette to mean several thousand words of something gory or fucked up).

It has been the greatest and most treasured experience I’ve had on here getting to know you. From the hilarious shit talking, to expanding my horizons in terms of what I read and write, and giving each other constant new ideas and support, I am so grateful for all the downsides of existing in an online space as it’s meant making a wonderful, cherished friend. Happy birthday and may we enjoy your presence in our lives and this garbage fire for a long, long time to come! 😍😍❤️❤️😈😈 @safarigirlsp

*

Day 1; assassin!Mills x RC

*

Summary: The Museum needs two operatives to pose as a married couple and go into a chateau full of depraved people letting loose and acting out their fantasies in an Eyes wide shut-type party. That old chestnut.

A/N: I’m a sucker for going undercover as a couple, in every iteration of that trope, and undercover at a sex party is an especially fun variation. This little episode didn’t fit into my main assassin!Mills story, but it was too interesting to throw out completely, so this seems like the best way to share it. If you like the premise, I’m happy to write a conclusion for it.

CW: mentions of wlw, mlm, group sex, fetishes, voyeurism, dubcon, murder, drugs, alcohol, sex work

WC: ~5.5k

*

Cipher and Gage picked up their small leather bags soon after they landed, exiting the airport hand in hand. Cipher’s steel toe boots thumped loudly on the tiles, his long leather coat rustling with every casual move of his tall, broad frame. Gage sized him up out of the corner of her black-rimmed eye, appreciating the sexy, disheveled swoop of his sandy hair, the frosty glint of his blue eyes, his sharp jawline dusted with a few days’ growth of beard. Her eyes wandered lower, to the tight black tank top that peeked out from his unbuttoned white shirt, the studded belt drawn tight around his narrow hips, and the tightly coiled muscles of his legs working under his equally tight pants. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on him in the car. Their quick encounter in the airplane toilet was too short for her appetite.

She walked briskly in her six inch shiny leather boots, barely reaching his shoulder despite the added height, feeling the chill in the airport as a gust blew under her scandalously short skirt. A man walking past them balked at what the blown up material revealed and she giggled to herself. Cipher squeezed her hand tighter and walked even faster in retaliation, leaving her to practically run to catch up with him. They barely jumped into the stretch limousine parked and waiting to take them to the rendezvous point that Rostov decided on when Cipher pulled her roughly onto his lap and glared, squeezing his large hand painfully around her thigh until she squirmed and pouted, removing her round Windsor sunglasses and giving him a plaintive look, all innocence and invitation. She had often remarked that it didn’t serve him any good to get all worked up over other men ogling her like that; if he wanted an attractive and flirty wife like her, then there were consequences to deal with.

They had enough time to redress and clean up as well as could be managed on a backseat when the limousine pulled up on Museum property. The partition rolled down and an Acquisitions operative pointed the barrel of a gun at the pair.

*

The heavy metal door creaked and moaned as it was pushed open for Adriane. She entered the small circular cell, windowless and bleached by harsh white halogen lights, where Cipher and Gage sat bound and gagged.

Without gracing either with eye contact, Adriane walked briskly, sweeping an elegant circle around the small cell, her heels clacking an ominous rhythm on the concrete floor. “In a moment, you will be separated. You will never see each other again,” she spoke the chilling words quietly and emotionlessly, as though to herself, as she circled the young pair like a crow awaiting carrion to feast on. “Whoever talks first will go free. The other will not leave this place alive.” She tossed the last words over her shoulder as she slipped like a shadow out the door and it closed heavily behind her.

She was not negotiating. She was not trying to entice them with anything only to pull the rug out from under them, as other people they had dealt with in the past had. The pair understood the danger they were in as they locked eyes, determined to leave this place together, and alive.

*

30 minutes, my office. A, the letters scrolled across the beeper in your hand.

When you arrived, with a minute to spare, you were feeling pretty smug about yourself that you managed not to be late, to say nothing of the fact you were chosen as the operative to be entrusted with this last minute, highly sensitive task.

Adriane’s office looked like the wardrobe department of some grungy photo shoot, with distressed denim, faux leather, fishnets and studs galore. Racks and racks of clothing were hurriedly rolled in, no doubt for the purpose of outfitting for this impromptu exhibition you were going on.

“Our guests have a meeting with their prospective employer this evening. We intercepted the coordinates Rostov provided and took Cipher and Gage on a detour here,” Adriane informed as Mills strode out from behind a rack with an armful of clothes. You looked from him to Adriane, wondering if this was some test and her omitting he would be there was supposed to catch you by surprise. Satisfied you did not betray your heart jumping into your throat, you diverted your attention to the racks of female clothing surrounding you.

“Won’t he know we’re not them? You know, when he looks at us?” you asked too snarkily for someone who knew Adriane wouldn’t waste anyone’s time if this was a real concern.

“Rostov doesn’t know what they look like. Both he and our guests are too discreet in their dealings to allow something like that. And the private party you are attending is designed to ensure privacy. At least where your faces are concerned.”

You felt a nervous knot tie in your gut, thinking ahead at what the night would more than likely demand of you. “And their stupid nicknames?” you asked, forcibly casual, as you pressed a red plaid skirt to your hips, wondering if it would even cover half your ass.

“For the same reason. They are decently intelligent, cautious people in their business dealings, even if their behavior otherwise is questionable. Under different circumstances, they might have been potential operatives for the Museum. As it stands, their use is limited to a single outing.”

You followed Adriane to her laptop computer, as thick as a briefcase, sitting in front of her leather chair, with a video paused. Scattered on the desk were photos of Cipher and Gage, taken over the last few weeks, as evidenced by the changes in the color and style of their hair. They were photographed several times in rather compromising positions, not that they seemed to mind. Gage was always smiling brightly when her hand was shoved possessively in Cipher’s back pocket, and he was not shy about embracing her in a town square and kissing her with what you personally deemed to be an excess of tongue, with both his hands on her ass, peeking out of another too-short skirt. Frenzied moaning and the squeak of leather grabbed your attention and you looked up at the video Adriane played.

“This was just over an hour ago, in the back of the car we sent for them,” she informed, looking unimpressedly at the screen.

The parallels between you and Julian were not lost on you. Two people, outrageously in love, killing for a living. Except the pair rutting wildly in a limo were free to be out in the open, not concealing anything from anyone, while you could only look at Julian askance and steal brief moments when you were sure no one was looking, which was hardly ever.

“The girl has great stamina,” you quipped, averting your eyes discreetly. From their copious, almost defiant public displays of affection, you didn’t imagine either would be bothered to know a few people had watched some blurry, low resolution footage of their intercourse, but the aversion was for your sake, not letting the Museum make a voyeur out of you. It was enough they made you a ghost and a killer.

“You need to become Cipher and Gage for the duration of this Exhibition,” Adriane underscored. “They are ruthless, reckless, and passionate. Their reputation precedes them in Rostov’s inner circle.”

“We understand,” Mills assured, seeming to imply that even if you didn’t quite get it, he did.

Adriane came up to stand next to you and snatched the blue tinged, white rimmed sunglasses off your face, replacing them with a dark, edgy pair more in line with Gage’s confirmed style. “Rostov is a hedonist with wild delusions of grandeur. He will try to flirt with you, and his demands are known to go far,” she informed in a tone that signaled you were to go along with it, as far as necessary.

“I’m cool,” you shrugged, stomach twisting with disgust you were still not entirely able to suppress.

“He will likely flirt with you too, Julian,” Adriane said in the same demanding tone to him.

“Mh,” he grunted vaguely, shucking on a leather biker jacket and ruffling his hair, as he studied his reflection, deciding if it all came together just right for Cipher.

You barely contained a grin, thinking of this scrawny little man, twisted with perversion, trying to entice the architectural marvel that was Julian Mills.

A clink of metal on hard wood rang through the air. “Put these on.”

Julian made his way to Adriane’s desk first, picking up the two rings with discreet tracking devices installed inside. He deftly slipped the smaller one up to the knuckle of his ring finger and let the other one drop. You followed moments behind and picked up the ring off the desk. It gaped around your ring finger, looking too big even for your thumb.

“Doesn’t fit,” you dismissed, setting it down and pushing it towards Adriane.

“Let me,” Julian said lowly, his long, thick fingers wrapping around your wrist. He brought your hand up and twisted the ring off his finger, sliding it carefully over yours and inspecting his work when he was done. He seemed to approve of the way your hand looked adorned with his wedding ring.

He then picked the other ring up and set it in your hand, expecting you to put it on him.

“Do I have to love, honor and obey?” you looked up at him as he offered a waiting hand. His silence filled the air with crackling intensity and you fought with yourself not to look away.

“Just obey,” Adriane answered for him and brought the moment to an end. Without ceremony, you slipped the ring on Julian’s finger and turned away from both of them.

Obey, you scoffed inwardly. Love was easy. Honor, you conceivably could. The only demand they both had of you was the one you struggled with most.

“You leave in 15 minutes,” Adriane informed as dispassionately as ever.

Before you left, curiosity got the better of you. “You got all this information out of them… Which one cracked?”

“They both did, of course,” Adriane gave a serene, composed smile, assured in the Museum’s methods.

“So who got to go free?”

Adriane blinked and for a moment, you had the distinct sense a huge grin would slice across her face. A jeering, hideous one, mocking your naiveté. “You should go get ready,” was all the reply she would give, and all the reply you needed.

*

As you descended in the gold-adorned elevator, on your way to the armory, Julian was quiet, looking at his panel and committing every detail of the plan, of Cipher and Gage’s history and activities, of intelligence on Rostov - all he could - to memory.

“Why was I chosen for this task?” you asked, choosing the opposite approach to Julian’s and clearing your mind before jumping into the task at hand.

He was silent as you descended for several levels and you started to assume he had not even registered your question. “It was an opportunity to improve your field mechanics,” he answered like a politician on the campaign trail.

Silence then followed from you. “Field mechanics,” you repeated, deeply unconvinced.

He turned and looked hard at you, pleading with you to hear what he was not allowed to say. “Adriane is under the impression that we are convincing as two people in love.”

It was not a compliment. The words had the cadence of a slur, and his tone of regret. It was not a good thing at all. He narrowed his eyes, satisfying himself that you took his meaning correctly.

*

The warm sunset, full of purples and oranges, gave way to a fine evening as you drove outside the city. As soon as you exited, you donned your masks as a precaution, wary of how far Rostov’s eyes reached. Yours was a white mask that extended into a crescent moon shape above your forehead and under your chin. Along its edges and around the eyes, the mask was outlined in silver and small stars twinkled along its face. Julian’s mask was white and gold, representing the sun, with five curvy rays creating an inverted pentagram around the smooth white face of the mask, adorned with golden arabesque designs. You looked at each other once the masks were on and the eerie blank canvass they presented, not knowing what face and expression they hid, was chilling.

You joined the scattered trail of other cars, uniformly black and armored, as they traveled noiselessly  down a private road that would have been impossible to find without very specific instructions. The road was maintained to perfection, allowing you to glide smoothly down and weave its serpentines as they appeared without the slightest trouble. If not for the heady mix of trepidation and excitement that kept you wired and buzzing awake, you could have been lulled into a dreamlike sleep and sunk into the impenetrable darkness that surrounded you.

After stretching for what felt like an eternity, the road finally ended at a well-fortified gate, where you were ushered in and led up a lavishly landscaped path. A veritable army of masked guards stood sentinel all along the path, the entrance to a grand building and all the way to a sequestered area separated by gold stanchions and a red rope. Neither the host nor the guests wanted the security’s scrutiny while indulging in their hidden pleasures, a mistake that Julian and you were instructed to exploit. Behind unadorned gunmetal gray masks, the guards’ eyes followed every guest as they approached the rope forbidding entrance to the room beyond to all but a select few. There, you were instructed to shed your clothing and don party attire.

Rostov had purchased the magnificent château a few years back and it currently served as the crown jewel of his ostentatious tendencies and debauched proclivities. He restored it to its former glory, and had it outfitted with every modern comfort to boot, ensuring maximum pleasure and safety. It soon became the perfect place to host his monthly bacchanals, a pleasurable distraction from his usual activities of acquiring and testing biological weapons.

Invitations were handed out either to former collaborators who had displayed a keen sadistic and perverted streak, or to prospective talent, like Cipher and Gage, to ascertain if they possessed the requisite depravity of character to join in on Rostov’s activities unflinchingly. Masks and the privacy of the location guaranteed zero risk of discovery and damage to anyone’s reputation that would result from engaging in this sort of activity in a public venue.

With that in mind, you did not hesitate to disrobe. There was little to remove anyway and the mask served another useful purpose in making you bolder by hiding your face and whatever chagrined expression it might reveal. Julian watched, his eyes moving appreciatively behind his white and gold mask, as your skirt hit the floor and you removed your cropped top in one smooth movement. He waited, and at first you wondered why, but quickly surmised he meant to wait and have you undress him. You were proven right when he stepped into you as your last stitch of clothing came off and stood facing you, to shield you from any prying eyes. He did not put it beyond this rabble to be spying on guests as they changed. You slipped his trench coat off and, suddenly aware of your nakedness and his imposing proximity, made quick work of his shirt and pants, unzipping them roughly and making him flinch, before tugging them down just as harshly. Remembering your role, you chuckled, as though you had done it to tease him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, eager for the dress, as revealing as it was. Julian seemed unfazed by being completely naked in a large anteroom and offered the white halter neck satin dress for you to step into. The dress had a large slit in the side and flowed with every step, and the back was left entirely bare. It glided as smoothly as water up your body as he pulled it up and tied it at the base of your neck. He pressed his mask into your neck, in an approximation of a steadying kiss, and you felt the length of his body pressed into you, with the material of the dress dividing you leaving little to the imagination.

Julian’s attire was similarly revealing. A similar white material folded and tucked in around his hips, like the bottom half of a toga, and draped over his torso, cinched over one shoulder with a gold hoop and cascading down like a cape. He looked like an ancient marble statue, its perfection exaggerated by an impassioned artist in ardent love with his model, was brought to life.

The low thump of the music pulsed through the closed door as you neared it, and Julian brushed the bare skin of your lower back with his clever fingers as he claimed your waist, holding you close to his side as you ascended the steps and entered the party.

The renovated château was a blend of showy rococo and sleek modern styles. The dichotomy made for a luxurious experience, striking a balance between the lavish furnishings of the past and the present-day creature comforts, such as telephones, cameras, air conditioning, and modern mechanics. You followed a servant, distinguished by her plain gunmetal gray mask, into a spacious ballroom where the main activities were taking place. Heavy velvet curtains were drawn over the tall windows that lined the walls, keeping the lighting in the room low and atmospheric with only the dimmed chandeliers and scattered candelabras to set the mood. Dry ice created a mist swirling around the floor and ghosting around your steps. Erotic house music filtered in from the speakers embedded high above, and its thumping bass rattled in your bones as it provided a steady rhythm to rut to.

You passed sections of the ballroom, some divided by pillars and more heavy drapery, others raised on a dais, and each offered different activities. In some, more accessible areas, guests mingled and leaned masked faces close to exchange conversation and toasts, lifting only the bottoms of their masks to take quick sips. On a chaise longue, red and trimmed in gold, lay a man with his toga hiked up around his waist, straddled and vigorously ridden by a woman with nipple piercings connected by a series of chains and pendants, and her dark skin extensively tattooed. A small group of people, in various stages of undress gathered around them and commented on the participants and their activity.

You passed onto a higher level, leaving the couple behind you, and noticed that this area had raised platforms around one central viewing point. Each platform had two red leather sofas, one lower and one higher, permitting more positions and participants, surrounded by several waist-high columns. Each column held an object for members to use, either for pleasure or pain. You took in a few, including phallus-shaped implements, ball gags, riding crops, and pliers. In the viewing area, more of those comfortable chaise longues were laid out for those wishing to observe. Several platforms were currently occupied, but one drew your attention. A masked woman had her long legs wrapped around two men, one inside of her, the other inside of the man between them, and the three were being observed by a masked man in a black robe. He was one of Rostov’s inner circle, designated by his robe as untouchable – unless he asked to be – and irrefusable. His build was wrong; he was too young and too fit to be Rostov, so you moved on.

Sooner rather than later, you remembered as the stench of too many bodies fucking in an enclosed space hit your nostrils, you would have to engage in some activity yourself, lest your restraint draw unwanted attention. Even now, you felt appraising eyes land on you and Julian as you passed. You could not blame them. For all the young and attractive participants present, paid or drugged, who walked around and offered themselves like hors d’oeuvres to be sampled, they smacked of sex workers who were only doing a job. Some had the shaky, twitchy physique of junkies, while others had the used up bodies of veteran sex workers. You and Julian, by contrast, were trained by the Museum to be lethal, and having looks to kill was not a mere phrase where you came from. All those lessons in walking runways, learning classical dances, gymnastics, yoga, and the subtle art of erotica over the two years of your training made you both stand out in the most noteworthy way. Every step showed off your bodies, effortless grace and proud bearing; every brush of your fingers against Julian’s sculpted arm promised something more between you, and you felt eager eyes follow you, hoping to witness the moment you decided to take it farther.

The sounds of leather cracking and moans, quickly drowned out by delighted praise or mockery, led you into a large chamber, lined with ornate columns. A red carpet painted the floor red and several servants walked unobtrusively around with smoking censers, diffusing aphrodisiac scents around the cavernous chamber and perfuming the aroma of sex before it grew stale. In its center sat a long table, with a smorgasbord of men and women on top. From your vantage point, you could see two women with their heads between the other’s legs, one on her back, the other over her on her knees, both writhing and exaggerating their pleasure as their surgically enhanced breasts jiggled in one unmoving spot. Next to them were two handsome men on their sides, performing the same act and moaning deeply around the other’s shaft. In the middle was a piano bench with three women of widely varying ages in an embrace, busily alternating positions and acts. Around the table sat the more important attendees, watching, some stroking themselves or others under the table. The first woman you’d seen dressed in a black robe sat on the lap of a bony old man, his skin hanging like wet paper over his frame. She wriggled on his lap from his touch under her robes and pulled up a sleeve to offer her arm. He produced a syringe and injected her with a cloudy substance before resuming his ministrations. Julian walked by and caught the woman’s attention. She reached out for him and he extended her a hand, letting her pull him in close as she arched her back and spread herself across the table for him to sample. Julian loomed over her until she couldn’t wait anymore and tugged on his arm, splaying his large hand over her comparatively small breast, instructing him to knead at her chest. He did so, leaning closer over her so he could swipe the empty syringe from the floor and tuck it into the folds of his clothing. When he accomplished his task, he disengaged from the woman and you could see her roaming hand had found his way in between the folds of his toga and was trying to get in another one or two strokes as he retreated. As his partner, his wife, for the evening, you felt no need to disguise either your proprietary sense or your jealousy. Grabbing for his elbow, you jerked him towards you and spun him out of the way, positioning yourself between the woman in black and the object of both your desires. Too late it occurred to you that it could be huge mistake to challenge a high-ranking member. Your body spoke for itself, like a cat bristling and hissing, ready to claw out any eye that rested too long on Julian. You looked at her hand, suspended in midair as she considered demanding Julian back. With what relish you would break each and every finger, enjoying the snap of each knuckle. The flash in your eyes seemed to communicate this rather eloquently to the women and she turned back to the decrepit old man she was sitting on and threw her head back, her deranged laughter muffled behind her mask. The scene drew many masked faces to turn towards you and examine you with uncanny glittering eyes from behind impassive disguises. They had the eerie curiosity of carrion birds, waiting for their prey to become carcasses.

Julian drew you close, acting possessively, as if the fighting and territorial behavior was part of your foreplay. Grinding his hips into your backside, you felt him stiffen reflexively. His hands squeezed your hips and you threw your head back against his broad shoulder, letting him play out the scene and get you safely away. His hands roved up your body, following the contours of your waist and ribs. One hand slipped inside your dress and drew a lazy circle around the nipple, drawing it into a stiff peak and rolling it between his rough fingers. You let a shudder roll visibly through you and pressed your thighs theatrically together for the benefit of those savoring your reaction, creating some friction and relief. Julian’s other hand snaked up and coiled around your throat as he bent to whisper in your ear. “Fuck,” you heard a guttural grunt as he panted behind his mask, and his strained voice sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. You arched your back into him before you could think not to and his hips responded with a deep thrust as his stiffening cock sought some relief against the curve of your ass. “We should get out of here, he’s--” words failed him and he had to swallow hard before resuming, “he’s not here.”

As you straightened up, trying to find the closest exit point and make for it, one of the marauding sex workers, emboldened by whatever chemical cocktail she was on, made her way to you and placed one hand over the breast Julian wasn’t cupping, and the other around his neck, inviting herself into your company. Not worried about causing trouble due to her rank, you unceremoniously slapped her hand away from Julian, to delighted comments and encouragements from the throng watching on. She tottered like a toddler and you knew a single push could knock her down, and in her state, she likely wouldn’t even feel it. Still, she did not take the hint and tried to touch Julian again. His hand fell away from you and you caught her wrist, twisting only a little before she crumpled into the ground.

As you turned to leave, you nearly bumped into a woman, stripped to her waist, holding a young man’s wrists over an antique letter writing desk. Another woman, with sagging breasts that suggested breast feeding several children, bound in a leather harness, was whipping the youth across the back while an old man in black robes held his hips and frantically pumped. His legs were wiry and crooked and his gut was visibly round as he worked around the protruding flesh to stick his small member into the young man. You squeezed Julian’s thigh in question, as the gesture could be viewed as announcing your eagerness to join in. He wrapped his hand around yours and stilled you, signaling no. Rostov was scrawnier than this round-bellied man. But you were likely getting close. 

Julian raised his masked head towards the upper levels of the chamber. All along the top floor were small viewing chambers, like opera boxes, and most of them held a member dressed in black, with a select guest, or guests, keeping them company. It was there he spied him.

Rostov, ever the attention seeker, was the only attendee with a mask made entirely of gold. Noticeably shorter than the naked woman accompanying him, he seemed to be watching Julian too. Without flinching or looking away, Julian stood and waited for a few beats. Finally, Rostov seemed to make up his mind and with a quick summoning gesture, a servant materialized next to you and asked you to join the host on the uppermost level.

As you were led along the balustrade to Rostov, you saw peep show-like personal rooms with acts going on in glass cages. These seemed to be one per box and, anticipating that you were brought here to perform rather than talk, you were grateful you wouldn’t be ogled by a multitude of criminals. Just one.

In one box, there was a woman in thigh-high boots and a collar around her neck, with a leash leading to some unseen master, bound to a velvet-cushioned chair. The viewer was issuing commands on what was to be done to her and you tried not to listen as you passed that box and approached another. In the glass box, a throuple was enjoying hot wax and blindfolds. At Rostov’s box, you saw a naked man wipe himself down as he exited and a pair of servants untied the woman and helped her out of a harness. The truncated scene confirmed what Julian had shared about Rostov and his penchant for more dominant men and submissive women. Gage’s impish and dominant behavior was a departure from that, so you made sure to remember not to play a meek, passive role.

The small man, hardly larger than a child, wore a golden mask that was reminiscent of hannya masks from Japanese theater, with large eyes, and a twisted grimace with a gaping mouth, revealing sharp teeth. Rostov examined Julian first, holding his large hand in his two small ones, looking at the golden band on his ring finger. He gave yours a glance to confirm he had it right, and let Julian’s hand go. As if examining a thoroughbred, he ran his hands over Julian’s thickly muscled chest, the marvelously  sculpted ridges and valleys of his arms.

“You hold Gage so close, so very close,” Rostov said in a thick accent and sighed. “I can see why.” He ran a finger over your mask, down its smooth, cool cheek, and lower still, dragging his small hand flat down your chest, down the valley between your breasts. Julian shifted his weight and his chest involuntarily puffed up, making Rostov huff a small laugh.

He walked a few small steps away, into his box, and Julian surmised he should follow. When Rostov lounged on the divan, Julian did the same, and they were at last on the same plane.

“From the moment you two walked in, I had one single thought.” He waited until Julian leaned in closer, tacitly asking for an answer. “I want to fuck your wife,” he stage-whispered, loud enough for both of you to hear. “This is a family, Cipher,” Rostov placed a proprietary hand on the back of his neck, pulling him intimately in. Without the masks, they would have been a hair away from kissing.  Julian heard Rostov’s labored breath behind his mask and was sure the man was hard to bursting, though his proportions were such that robes successfully hid on his body what they could never hope to hide on Julian. The man’s eyes devoured him, taking in his body greedily, lust shining in his beady eyes. “We do everything as a unit,” he coaxed.

Julian did not blink. He was playing the role of a man who did not share the woman he loved, and it came naturally to him. Both he and Cipher were the sort to risk powerful people’s displeasure for what they truly wanted. He observed his host, aware of his own intensely masculine appeal and let the man’s desire win out, breaking his determination and making him willing to negotiate.

“Bah,” the little man waved a frustrated hand, “I can see that your wife is not the sharing sort – for a moment there, I was worried she would break my wife’s arm when she was playing with you. And you can imagine the sort of pain in the ass she would be then,” Rostov laughed and phlegm rattled in his lungs. “I’m saddened to see you have the same sick notions of fidelity.” He sighed again and shook his head. “I’ll satisfy myself with watching you this first time, then.” With the matter decided in his mind, Rostov rolled away from him, and servants came in to escort you and Julian inside the glass box, while the pair that was in it before you came back and fell into an embrace with their host.

*

@thegrislady @lumberjack00fantasies @queeniebee @vedavan @mythrielofsolitude @house-of-cadwyn

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Fo4 Companions When You Come Out As Queer

➼ Word Count » 0.6k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ A/N » Happy Pride! I tried to make this broad as to include any identity in the community.

MacCready might be a little awkward about it at first, especially if you brought it up randomly, but that initial hesitance wears off quickly and he'll be back to his regular self, just with him doing his best to accommodate for your identity.

Nick understands what it's like to not resonate entirely with what people tell you you need to be or how you currently are, and would gladly help you navigate that while he figures out his own identity. Absolutely no judgment from him.

Cait has always been ready to beat anyone who disrespects you and that feeling doesn't change when you come out. She's still ready to sock anyone who says any off-comment about whatever you identify with.

Danse might get a little flustered because of how open you're being with him, especially if you've been keeping it hidden for a while. He doesn't mind that you're you, his main focus is gonna be on the amount of trust you have in him. If anything he's gonna thank you for talking with him about it.

Preston will hug you when you tell him. It's his way of telling you that you're accepted and appreciated here in the Minutemen, and nothing will ever change the respect he or any of the others have towards you.

Codsworth would be a bit surprised that you spent all this time keeping it a secret, but would be happy nonetheless that you told him. He'd immediately change the honorific he uses for you or altering some part of his routine to better accommodate you if needed.

If anything, Piper's excited. It almost feels like an act of rebellion against the world and the boxes you've been forced into and she's all for it. She'll be very vocally supportive toward you and will tell people off if they mess with you.

Curie would be excited as she could help you medically or emotionally if needed. She'll be super curious about it all and would ask you tons of questions just to make sure she's got all the details down right. She honestly just wants to make sure she knows how to best support you throughout it all and corrects people all the time if they get something wrong.

Strong doesn't care and thinks you're weird for even mentioning it. He'll be more confused than anything, it's gonna be impossible to try and explain any of it to him.

Hancock's whole thing is literally accepting everyone despite how they're perceived. You've got nothing to worry about coming out to him. In fact, you'll probably find him preaching about it around Goodneighbor. Soon you'll have tons of strangers congratulating you for 'staying free'.

Chances are Deacon's something of the sort as well. He even admits that he was a girl for a few days in his dialogue. He's in your corner, through and through, doesn't matter what you identify with. You come out to him and he'll respond with something like, "Same here."

X6-88 won't care. None of it affects the position you hold or your relationship. He might get a little more protective of you but he won't bring it up if you don't.

Gonna be honest with you, Old Longfellow has no idea what you're talking about when you tell him. He'll just shrug his shoulder, say 'ok', and go ask Teddy about it later. Even if he doesn't understand it, he'll try to be as supportive as he can. He's even willing to get into a bar fight for your sake.

Gage also couldn't care less. He doesn't wanna know who you are and aren't piping in your free time. If you're coming out as trans, then he'll give you a lazy salute and a simple, "You've got it, boss", and that'll be the end of it.

[ambrozians]

how jade & the harpers look according to my brain:

jade — skin is a warm tan, smooth to the touch. beauty mark beneath the corner of her right eye. wavy, black hair that stops just below mid-back, cut in layers for volume. lips are plush, usually painted with red or nude gloss. long eyelashes. green eyes with golden flecks that convey her emotions and thoughts better than words can. a small tattoo of a pink lotus flower on her left breast, and a faded scar on her sternum from vandal savage. lean, curvy build, but one cannot accurately gage her strength by looking at her, unless they’re prone to underestimate. gold hoops, gold bracelets, gold necklaces—all gold jewelry.

roy — sporting a perpetual tan, one might call him sun-kissed. auburn hair that lightens to ginger in the summertime, straight and pushed back by sunglasses. nose is crooked from one too many injuries. silver hoops or studs in his ears, depending on the day. eyes the color of a lake, blueish-green. light dusting of freckles on his skin, particularly his back. beard that tows the line between stubble and scruff. the physique of a rugby player; thick arms and legs but softer stomach, broad shoulders. several scars all over his body, most notably the bullet wounds & surgery scar on his chest. two tattoos: navajo one on his right arm and lian’s initials over his heart.

lian — face is her mother’s but younger, softened by lingering baby fat, and dotted with a light smattering of freckles. skin is a light, warm beige. hazel-colored eyes and full lashes. dark brown, nearly black hair with a brown balayage, usually tied back in a ponytail or braid unless at an event or hanging with friends. double pierced ears and a cartilage piercing on the left ear. she smiles like roy. athletic build, only a few inches shorter than jade but gaining on her. couple of scars on legs and fading bruises from playing sports (lacrosse, skateboarding, etc.). always has one headphone in her ear. combines metals when she wears jewelry.

[hanayori89]

🐺✨Sparks Between Fang Marks: Bite from the Beast 1✨🐺

Eyes followed you everywhere.

And you weren't surprised. You definitely did not fit into a place like Ordon Village.

You observed the villagers going about their business in the humdrum rhythm of existence. Children ran past you, cackling as they caused a small gust of wind to gently roll past. You saw some gentlemen sitting around a fire by a tree, toothy grins and red plastered to their cheeks as they drank in merriment. A few properties away stood a woman, hanging wet laundry out to dry. Some of the towering trees swaying in the breeze released leaves that stuck to the fabric of the damp laundry.

It was certainly simple here compared to the conviviality of Castle Town.

You scratched your head as you looked down at your worn-out map, the writing eroded by the many fingers that held it before you. From what you could make out, the spring should have been before you hit the village.

You sighed, flustered. You felt your patience teetering back and forth like the many tree branches above. You picked your right foot up, letting out yet another dramatic sigh. You were hungry, sore, and growing crankier by the second.

But you couldn't have said no when Princess Zelda herself requested that you be the one to do the research on Ordon Spring. You stuck your finger in the heel of your shoe, giving it a small respite, then shoved your foot back in and made your way forward.

You noticed a bustling ranch up ahead. Surely, somebody could point you toward the spring.

As you approached the ranch, you saw a distorted image of a man. His features were harshly skewed, and his shoulders were so broad that they created an unbalanced rectangular shape to his body.

"Excuse me?" You called out to the man.

"Hylia, get into your pens! The lot of you!" He bellowed as he threw his hands up in defeat.

"Excuse me?"

The man turned and stared at you blankly. "Forgive me, I'm not from around here, and-"

"Yes, I can see that." The man snorted. "Let me guess; you're from Castle Town, and you need directions."

You nodded, self-consciously smoothing the collar of your tailored dress downward.

"I'm looking for Ordon Spring."

The man snorted again.

"Princess Zelda sent me." You asserted.

"Zelda sent you?" Another man made his way to the forefront; only he was much more pleasant to look at than the surely man before you. You couldn't quite gage the color of his hair as beams of light seemed to filter away the appealing darkness of it, highlighting it with blonde streaks instead. He wore garments that were expressive of what many of the villagers wore. A sash in the middle of his waist held up a tunic, which covered one shoulder, revealing the generous muscles in his arms.

He tilted his head slightly. "Princess Zelda sent you?"

You averted your gaze, unable to look at the rather handsome ranch hand.

He walked up to the fence, opening the gate and setting himself free. "Here, I can point you in the direction you need to go." He turned back toward the grumpy rancher. "Fado, cover me for a moment."

Fado snickered; his response was cut off by a cuckoo nipping at his foot.

"Why you little-!"

You stifled a giggle, remaining professional. The handsome rancher looked at you and smiled. "I wish I could say he's joking, but unfortunately, that's Fado for you."

You walked back toward the village center, where the kids still ran laps of tag. He lifted a bronzed finger and pointed ahead. "The bridge you crossed to get here; you must make your way back toward that bridge. Go past the south Faron Woods you entered to get here. The spring will be hidden to your left between the Faron Bridge and the south woods."

He looked at you with an expression of concern. "However, I do not recommend going now; it's getting pretty late. I can direct you to the village inn."

You could see exhaustion dappling against his sharp features. Despite this, he remained enthusiastic and warm. "I also must warn you, without anything to heal, you might not experience the powers of the spring."

You continued to dodge his intense gaze. "I guess I'm in the market for a paper cut then." This aroused a small chuckle from him.

"Please." His voice was as gentle as the caress of the looming dusk's sensuous breeze. "Please reconsider going tonight. You will be safer in the morning."

You shook your head. "I work for Hyrule Castle. I'm equipped to handle danger should I encounter it."

Sensing he wasn't going to convince you otherwise, he glibly responded. "Do be careful. There are creatures that lurk within the woods."

          ✨✨✨✨✨🐺✨✨✨✨✨

You pulled your shoe off and held it upside down. A small pebble fell from it.

"Why did I wear these shoes?" You grunted. The sun had long set, and you made the grueling trek through the Faron Woods once more. The dense culmination of trees had grown sparse, signaling that you were now on the perimeter of the woods.

"I must be close to the spring. I must." Your stomach retaliated against you with expletives in the form of growls. A mosquito landed on your arm; you squashed it against your flesh with an absurd clap of your hand.

"Stupid bugs. Stupid shoes. Stupid appetite!" A sawed-down tree lay in the distance, sporting a nice smooth trunk that you could sit on and give yourself a much-needed pep talk.

Bending forward in thought, you put your elbows on your knees, cradling your weary head in between the palms of your hands. Your skin felt moist with oil, and you couldn't wait to shower among everything else.

You slapped your knee with a renewed sense of motivation. "Alright! I'll take a dip in the spring while I fill up my empty vials to bring back to the castle. After this, I will return to that village and get some grub and rest. That's the plan." You nodded, satisfied with your new itinerary.

You stood up, palms on your lower back, pressing your chest forward, attempting a stretch, until you heard the nearby bushes rustle.

You turned your head, resting your chin on your shoulder, scouring your surroundings.

"Probably a squirrel." You muttered to yourself. Until the bush once again made a disruptive jostling sound.

"Hello? Anyone there?" The only response you received was the penetrating silence of the forest.

You began to laugh at how silly your paranoia was. You marched forward, resuming your search of the spring. The sound of your footsteps crunched amongst shriveled leaves, along with the mismatched sound of footsteps from behind you.

A low curdle of a growl made you freeze in place.

You slowly swiveled your head around, coming face-to-face with a wolf.

You held your breath, deciding then that dying of asphyxiation would be more pleasant than whatever the wolf held in store for you.

Its blue eyes held onto you almost as tight as you imagined its fangs would. Something about the shade of the wolf's eyes was familiar. Warm. Thick gray tufts of hair were matted at its neck from whatever creatures it had clashed with in the woods.

Maybe the wolf ate, and it would leave.

Your wishful thinking in that moment of intense fear was the only real hope you had left.

"I won't hurt you..." You whispered. You weren't sure why you were trying to bargain with the wolf. You dropped your voice to match the soothing atmosphere of the singing cacophony of cicadas surrounding you.

The wolf stepped forward. The bargain was not being bought.

Matching the tempo of the wolf's steps forward, you lowered your hand to the zipper of your purse, remembering a pocketknife you kept for protection. The wolf's fierce glare seemed to cause the warning of the handsome rancher to echo in the back of your mind.

Why hadn't you listened to him?

You slowly opened the zipper.

The wolf took another step forward. Watching. Waiting.

"I won't hurt you." You reiterated it gently.

You steadied your shaking hand onto the hilt of the knife, removing it slowly.

"I won't-"

You couldn't finish your statement. Your knife fell from your grip into a pile of leaves behind you. Hot, searing pain drilled into your left calf. Sharp fangs sank into your leg, going slightly deeper, giving the wolf the control it wanted.

You shrieked in anguish as the wolf began to fling you around like a ragdoll. You dug your fingers into the soil as he pulled your leg, dragging you through the dirt. You yelled out, "Please, please, help! Somebody!"

But you were in the middle of the Faron Woods alone. There was not a soul for miles. Nobody would hear your screams. Nobody would witness your death.

Twigs, branches, and sticks stabbed at your flesh as the wolf continued to parade your leg around in its mouth. You heard an ear-splitting crunch, and you knew it wasn't coming from the leaves on the ground. Surrendering to your unfortunate fate, you cried out once more. Hoping somewhere in the abyss of bestial rampage, the wolf would stop. Somewhere in the wolf was a docile creature that housed that gentle gaze he gave you earlier. You just had to try. Maybe he would hear the pain in your voice, and he would stop.

Wouldn't he?

"Please..." you whimpered.

Raw, wet muscle and tendon shimmered with blood beneath a fragile glint of moonlight.

      ✨✨✨✨✨🐺✨✨✨✨✨

Your body was levitating. You felt it- a feather amongst gentle currents of water being lifted up toward Hylia.

You also felt arms. Sturdy, powerful arms. Your hand shot upward, trying to feel the source of fortitude lifting you upward.

Did Hylia send brawny male angels down to deliver the dead to her now? If that were the case, maybe being dead wouldn't be so bad.

Until you felt a protruding muscle beneath your hand and the sound of a voice asking, "You're awake?"

The voice was animated with relief. Your eyes shot open as you saw miles of calming waters surrounding you. You weren't dead. Far from it.

Your head shot upward, witnessing your legs being bathed in crystalline waters- not a scratch nor bump in sight.

"The Ordon Spring?" You gasped. Your head fell backward, and you saw the kind eyes of the cute rancher. "You saved me?"

Instead of answering your question, he let his head fall downward, heavy with tormenting shame.

"What's wrong? What's-" Your hand ran from his bicep to his chest, where you felt a patch of tangled hair.

Long, gray, tangled hair.

Your eyes met his face, and you noticed a crisp patch of blood dotting the corner of his lips.

You began to flounder out of his arms.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbled. His eyes were filled to the brim with apparent remorse.

He kept prattling on apologies, but that wasn't enough to distract you from the blood smeared between his teeth and lacing his gumlines.

The ranch hand had warned you for a reason.

Only he wasn't trying to protect you from the other creatures.

He was trying to protect you from himself.

Edited:11/5/23

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Congrats on 1.5 K! Could I get 🐐🌵 praise kink with Porter Gage? I love the way you write him!!

Yeesh, yeah, I can totally do that 😏

Gotta love Gage, but especially in this sorta context, lol.

I hope you love it!

NSFW below, minors please don't interact!

"Goddamn, that sure is somethin' you're doing with your mouth there, boss."

Gage's head fell back against the couch, even as his fingers tightened their grip against the back of Sole's head, only gently encouraging them to continue the blissful movement of their lips and tongue over his throbbing length.

They only hummed in return, their eyes half-lidded and foggy with their own pleasure at the sound of his voice, the way it left him so breathy and wanton, the way they could tell they were affecting him so completely.

"Fuck me, but you're good with that tongue, baby." He chuckled, and they felt his length throb on their tongue, as though it were agreeing with him. "An' you keep humming like that, yer gonna get a mouthful of me real soon here, I'm warning ya."

They hummed again, and felt his thigh tense under one hand.

"You little shit," He growled, "Yer enjoying yourself a bit too much down there, I think."

Sole had to pull away at that, or risk hurting him as they laughed openly at his remark. Their glossy eyes met his as they looked up at him, one sinful line of spit still connecting those sweet lips to his straining cock.

"Why don't you bring that pretty tongue up here and have it pick on someone its own size, huh?"

At that, they obliged him, using their hand on his thigh to haul themselves up, severing that shiny line connecting their mouth to his erection, and settling themselves gently over his thighs as Gage's hazel-green gaze stayed firmly locked to their movements.

One rough hand moved to their lower back as they wrapped their arms around his broad shoulders. Just as they settled, Gage jerked them forward until their barely-clothed core was pressed firmly up against his solid stomach, intentionally trapping his hardened length between their bodies.

The raider grunted at the feeling, his fingers tightening on Sole's back as they gave him another smug look.

Ohh, soon enough, Gage thought, I'm gonna wipe that shit off their face. They'll be the one with the--

Just as he seemed to recover, Sole started to grind their hips slowly against him, and Gage's thoughts scrambled like startled radroaches. Their grin only broadened as they saw the way his muscles seemed to strain with his barely contained pleasure, and his good eye set upon them with a glare.

"No matter where I put ya, you manage to still cause trouble, dontcha?"

They snickered, biting into their lip at the sound of his playfully strained tone.

"Guess that's why they made you Overboss."

"I don't think this was quite what everyone was considering at the time..." They said with a cocked brow.

Gage released a breath in a sort of chuff of laughter, distractedly running his hand up and down the length of his partner's back, getting teasingly lower with each broad stroke.

"Maybe not everyone, but..." His eye grazed over Sole's nearly bare form, soaking in their visage with a mingled look of unadulterated desire and worrisome consideration, "I'd be lyin' if I said I hadn't thought of it."

Their brows raised at that, and their mouth opened as if to respond, but Gage just as soon barricaded the opening with his own hungry lips, making good on his promise to have his lithe tongue spar with their own.

Sole only moaned, the sound barely managing to escape between his fervorous attacks, and they felt him grin in reponse.

"Fuck, those sounds you make, boss." Gage groaned into them, "Do it again."

Their hips stuttered at his breathy command as they continued their sensual dance overtop him, and Gage brought his free hand up to the back of their head, steadying their movements and keeping them securely connected as they humored him once more, and loosed another pleasure-laden sound.

It wasn't hard, the moans that came from them were truthfully inspired by the raider's crude, yet deft movements. His tongue rolling against theirs, battling sloppily for dominance as his hands gripped tightly over them, as one tangled in their hair and held fast as they attempted to pull back for breath, as the other hauled their body ever closer in the erotic dance of their winding, undulating hips.

Gage kissed them until their lungs burned, until their light moans turned into desperate, heady breaths they attempted to pull in between frequent collisions of their lips and his.

"You--" They tired, but their words vanished into another groan as Gage took their bottom lip between his teeth, pulling back until they felt the light sting of the stretch, before releasing it and diving back in to conquer them once more.

"Too much..." Sole struggled to get the words out, but finally, he pulled away.

Gage's nose still brushed their own with his closeness, the pupil of his right eye completely blown out with pleasure, his breaths coming in desperate pants, just as theirs were.

"Never." He breathed with a crooked smile. "Never could get enough of you, I think."

In the span of a blink, his mouth was on them again. This time, his grazing teeth met the sensitive skin of their throat, scraping over them harshly and beckoning goosebumps to the surface before soothing over the marks with his warm lips.

"Shit, Gage. You can't--"

"Don't tell me what I can't do, baby." He whispered, and they felt his lips tighten over their skin as they were drawn together in a grin. "Only makes me want to do it more."

Their fingernails scraped lightly at the back of his neck and over one shoulder as he nipped at them playfully, pulling a surprised squeal of his name from their throat as he did so.

"Heh, raider, you know? Sort of comes with the job."

He grunted again as Sole stiffened in his arms, their hips grinding faster now, as a warmth bubbled up inside them, their own aching core growing more desperate with each set of his teeth over them, each hot breath, and southern, growling timbre.

"Goddamn, you're so good for me." His voice was strained as he spoke against the column of their neck, dragging his lips from jaw to collarbone and threatening with pointed canines, just to hear their gasps and groans so close to his ear. "Such a desperate thing, so weak for all I do." He chuckled, "Out there, they'd never guess it, Overboss. But here? Ahh, here, yer mine, baby. Like you was made fer me."

Slowly, one hand began to ease forward as Gage spoke, his fingers dipping down to Sole's underwear and delving inside to work his calloused roughness over their aching heat.

Their head bent down to catch him in a swift kiss before it fell back in pleasure, only exposing more of their vulnerable neck to his fervent attacks.

"Do you really mean all this?" They asked, their voice subdued, almost hard to hear above the sound of his breaths, the quick pounding of his heart.

"Darlin', what?" Gage pulled back with a suddenly addled expression, as even his hand paused its movement between their bodies.

Their head fell forward again, eyes meeting his, just as blown out with their shared lust, but more... thoughtful. There was doubt shining in their depths.

"Course I mean it. Think I'd say all this shit if I didn't?"

The hand on their hip rose to meet their face, one thumb brushing delicately over their cheek.

"I don't know... I'm just not used to it, and at first... The compliments and the, well, how vocal you are, it made me feel so desirable and sexy, and just... I haven't-- I've never really had that before. Before the war, it wasn't... Well, no one did that. I just... How could I know it was genuine unless I asked?"

His remaining brow drew tightly inwards, crinkling the skin against the metal of his eyepatch.

"Sole, I'm not some pre-war pomp, alright? I don't say shit unless I mean it." The light grip of his hand on their jaw tightened briefly, bobbing their head forward in emphasis. "An' you?" A grin shone in his good eye, an honesty present that was more undeniable than even his words. "Well, it definitely ain't no lie that you... Well, sweetheart, you rile me like no one else does."

Sole bit their lip, and Gage had to hold back everything in him not to lunge forward and do the same. To draw them into another all-consuming embrace and ravish them until there was no chance they couldn't believe him. But he held back. For now.

"Really?" They asked again, a little less uncertain this time.

"Baby, you see him?" Gage jerked his head downward, his eyes darting down to his still-aching length, straining upwards between their two bodies. "He ain't capable of lying the way mouths are. Now, he don't usually like no strangers or nothin', but you? Oh, right away, I knew you was gonna be a big problem for him. How's a second-in-command supposed to focus with their boss, when all he can do is think about all this? When this fucker is doin' all the thinking for him?" He gestured downwards dramatically, and Sole giggled overtop him, jostling both their forms with their mirth.

"Not sure if that's really a compliment, there, Gage."

"Yeah? Well, I'm talkin' too much anyway." The hand between them began slow movements again, and already Sole's breath began to pick up once more. "So, whaddaya say, huh? You wanna keep driving me wild, baby?"

[muldermuse]

so it’s my birthday in 3 days so i wanted to do some kinda self indulgent hc’s about Fox celebrating reader’s bday

Fox Mulder is kind and caring ok and he is a great listener, picks up on things that you didn’t even know u wanted 

SO u love your birthday and it’s the first one that u and Fox have lived together for 

over the weeks he’s casually prying for bday ideas like he knows u well enough to get u gifts but there is SO much he could get u, he’s kinda doubting himself (and also you’ve only recently moved in together so he wants this birthday to be as special as possible)

so when ur looking at books, he’s making a mental note of every cover u smile at or every blurb u read

when ur window shopping he’s pointing things out to you to gage ur response

and every time u put an item down with a wince after checking the price tag, he’s going back in a few days later with Scully to show her what it is

ur oblivious to all this, like u love your birthday but life is busy so the day creeps up on you without much notice or fanfare

you wake up on the morning of your birthday to a kiss on your cheek from Fox, you move to kiss his lips as he mumbles a happy birthday against them

“so, breakfast is on, coffee is on the table next to you-presented in your favourite mug of course. nothing but the best for the birthday girl”

u hate the thought of breakfast in bed (crumbs????? in the sheets??? no thank you) so after sipping your coffee, u walk into the kitchen to join Fox whilst he cooks

on the table is a huge bouquet of flowers (your favourites ofc), some awfully wrapped gifts and a few balloons

before Fox even realises you’re in the kitchen, you run to put your arms around him and hug him from behind whilst he’s at the stove

“you know that it is basically compulsory to have breakfast in bed on your birthday”

“but you’ve already said that i’m the birthday girl so surely what i say goes...right”

breakfast is great but honestly like how Fox looks should be a present in itself, his glasses are on, he has bed hair and his shirt highlights his broad shoulders

to Fox’s insistence u go back to bed to open your presents. Fox Mulder is a man of many MANY talents....wrapping gifts is not one

he gets u the new book by your favourite other, a bag that u wanted for an age but couldn’t justify the price tag, your favourite perfume and some jewellery. ALSO, he would get u a dumb gift, like maybe every time he’s travelled with Scully he’s bought you a dumb magnet so the final gift is a gift bag FULL of atrocious magnets

the rest of the day is filled with visits from family and some friends

THEN u go out for dinner but he’s surprised u with friends already waiting at your favourite restaurant for you

his hands stays on ur thigh throughout the night and after a few glasses of wine, he’s whispering in ur ear telling you how good you look whilst everyone is distracted with the chat around the table

“this dress is so beautiful on you” his lips nudge your ear, his words slightly slurred

“that’s the fourth time you’ve said that exact thing”

he smirks as his hand tightens around your thigh, he finishes his glass of wine as his lips press to your jaw slowly 

“you know, you have one more gift waiting at home”

your hand rubs up his leg as your eyes meet his gaze

“oh, only one?”

his lips are back at your ear, “as many as you want”

then idk u go home and have loads of sex I WANT TO WRITE SMUT BUT FEEL PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE OF TYPING IT

like does the end read as like flirty/smutty???? IDK i want to sleep with Fox Mulder for my birthday ok it’s been my dream forever

[slocumjoe]

⚡Gage Catchup Lightning Round⚡

Since I haven't written him in every post, just going back and giving him his very own variety hour of everything he's missed

Biggest complaint about writing; I absolutely hate that the Minutemen can't be recognized as the absolute juggernauts that you can turn them into. It's everywhere in the game, but with Gage, in particular, its such a missed opportunity. I talked about this in earlier but just know I still hate it. Nuka World on a Minutemen playthrough is kind of a flop in general. You go there, you kill everything, done. Being able to confront Gage with a Minutemen army that blows the dick off of any raider gang he's ever seen in comparison is, like, a golden goose egg. But its fine 🙃

Sole breaks down crying in his arms; 1/10 C.C, 0/10 I.C. Doesn't matter what kind of relationship they have. Gage was not the person to do this out of the blue to. If they're close, he'll care, and want to help, but tough shit, he's Porter Gage. He's not meant for that kind of stuff. Maybe if he had a lead up, some kind of warning, he'd be better suited to...not be useless. Honestly, most likely companion to straight up duck when they go for him, flip them over on the ground. If he lets them, Gage keeps his arms and face up, stares at the ceiling and pretends it isn't happening. That's if they're close. If they aren't, whether they're mostly strangers or just buddies, you're getting flipped like a pancake.

1 headcanon; Stress eater, but doesn't want to waste food as a nervous tic, so settles for smoking. Keeps his mouth busy. Will also chew on shit, like necklace chains or pens.

2 headcanons;

Was very close with his family until the day he left. It wasn't a growing resentment, it was an epiphany one day after a raid. Before that one day, no one would have ever thought that Porter, who was shaping up to be a fine young man, a good older brother, great with the cows and goats, would run off in the night, and later become a raider. Was a momma's boy, always helping her around the house. Especially close to his grandparents, got a lot of his personality from his crotchety ass grandfather who rarely had a good thing to say about anyone. Except Porter. Porter was the favorite child.

Never returned home because he knew, for a fact, that his name was going around after the Conner incident, and the idea of seeing his family when they knew what he was now, made him sick to his fucking stomach. He says he doesn't care. But 16 year old Porter Gage sat in a backroom of an old bar with a cold beer to his now-blind eye, and bawled.

Physique headcanons; Dad bod for daaaayyys. Strong, lean arms, very broad shoulders, tiny little waist and hips. Taller, 6 feetish. Toned body but with a softer belly. His hands are square, veiny, boney, and have long fingers. Scarred around the nails from chewing obsessively he was younger. Not about physique, but about his body, so; has tattoos. Very simple designs, your basic tribal patterns on the torso and shoulders. Would get more if he wasn't older, and now smart enough to be wary of strange needles. Missing more teeth than he's comfortable with. Lot of body hair all around, but centered mostly on his chest and happy trail. As for the eye, the injury was the fusion cell on his rifle getting shot and blowing up...as he was aiming down the ironsight. The eye is still there, just completely fucked and useless. The skin is obviously burned, and becomes itchy and painful in colder weather. Needs the patch so he doesn't scratch or rub it. Doesn’t use laser weapons anymore. Insecure about his appearance if in a meaningful relationship, even more so if his partner really is, as he says, a stunner.

Laughing headcanons; Doesn’t laugh often, keeps that shit to himself. But...if you can catch him, his laugh is very rough, snorting, lots of little catches of breath. Crosses his arms and covers his mouth when laughing. His eyes squint heavily, and his crows feet are much more noticeable. His laughing is on the quieter side, snickering to himself. But if its a full-blown fit, will tear up laughing. Wheezy. Kind of seal-like in his laughing-laughing.

Variety NSFW headcanons; Bit on the bigger side but not enough to be worrying. Has a scar on his dick, under the foreskin. Will not explain because he himself has no fucking idea. B.O IS SO FUCKING BAD. Would die happy if given a titjob. Once crossdressed for a partner and has to take a moment to cringe every time he remembers it. Not the crossdressing thing, the guy he was fucking. Not someone worth doing that for. If he's in a shower, he's jerking off. Its like...the only reason he takes them.

[malka-lisitsa]

" ‘What are you into’ is such a frigging broad question. What do i say to that? A tv show or choking? " Crowley, asking real shit

"I like to gage my answers based on who's asking. For instance if its someone I know for sure doesn't want to know I like tying my men to the bed and making them beg to cum- that's exactly what I'm going to tell them I'm into."

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

I've just gotten (re)obsessed with Fallout and have been LOVING your blog!! 🤩

This is going to sound a bit weird, but I'd love to see companion reactions (+ Maxson, Sturges, any other non-companion you enjoy) to the following:

I had a dream the other night where I/Sole was trying to persuade Nick to use special hand signals in front of the Brotherhood but he refused. But Deacon somehow knew what they were and was down so I/Sole taught him the hand signals and the Brotherhood ended up picking them up - all according to plan - and programming them into Liberty Prime and suddenly there was a massive death robot stomping around the Commonwealth going "death to communists EEEEEY MACARENA!"

I/Soke was laughing so hard I actually woke myself up. 😂

(Oh my goddd 😭😂)

Cait:

“Look at this, probably the only interesting thing these arses have done.”

Curie:

“I..I don’t understand but something tells me we should alert Monsieur Preston as well as the rest of your Minutemen..”

Danse:

“Having Liberty Prime operational will definitely make our foes think twice, however I wish it would cease the nonsensical gestures. Did..did you have something to do with this????”

Deacon:

“Holy shit, *laughs* everybody in the ‘wealth can see how dumb the brotherhood of asshats are- if only we could freeze this moment.”

Gage:

“Thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’? We need that rust bucket.”

Hancock:

“Now we’re talking, who did this? I want to know, they deserve a damn holiday in Goodneighbor. A real hero.”

Macready:

“We’ll it’s official..I think it’s best to go back to the capital..”

Maxson:

“*mutters* onesimplefuckingtask.”

Nick:

“Heh, to think..they had an institute broad working on that and still couldn’t get it right.”

Piper:

“Ohh this is way too good, WAY too good. *starts hitting down notes*”

Preston:

“This is a mess, a huge, ridiculous mess.”

X6-88:

“Humorous folly or not, it’s going down.”

[redrydersrequiem]

The red assassin

part 2

Part 1

I sit on the sandy beach waiting for my fish to finish cooking the sounds of the fire crackling mix’s with the gentle sloshing of the waves, my mind drifting off to thoughts of a certain one eyed prince. The plains of his face, sharp cheekbones, broad shoulders are beautiful lo..

Loud snoring breaks my day dream. Aurelius the lazy dragon he is shifts in his sleep, purring almost in his sleep. Content with his full belly of fish and wild boar, currently making a very good wind shield as hes curled behind me.

It's been almost five days since my visit to the Targaryens. I truly expected something by now either in the form of a messenger or an army, I will say I was hoping for the first but was prepared for the later.

“I'm sure you were”. Aurelius speaks, an eye now cracked up gageing my reaction.

“Your being real cheeky lately”

“And you've been day dreaming since that night don't tell me the mighty red assassin has finally found someone who catches her eye.” I simply flick sand at him, to which he just laughs

“So what if i have, you must at admit i picked an interesting one. Really that whole family is interesting”

“But they are also dangerous little ones,I don't want anything to happen to you.”

I know but allying ourselves with them for now could open a lot of doors for us, especially for you. Relius I want you to be able to have better things: actual meals, armor, somewhere safe for you to nest if you wish, you know the works.

“Scarlet.”

“No Aurelius I want better for us i'm tired of always being on the move

“No SCARLET!!”. Aurelius says with force his head now lifted to the sky. I now hear the roar in the distance. Aurelius swiftly stands haunches raised a low growl falling from his clenched jaw as we wait for the source of the sound to come into eye line

Vhagars giant form breaks through the clouds, the blond silver of her rider's hair reflecting in the sun behind them as they ascend toward the abandoned beach.

Aemonds pov

After the meeting with the girl, I've thought of nothing else. Grandfather's network of informants tried all they could to learn more about the crimson haired assassin, all coming up with nothing but tails of her triumphs. My favorite being the one of her taking out a group of bandits that was terrorizing a small farm town, kidnapping a girl to do gods know what to do if lady scarlet hadn’t intervened. Every story and praise for her filled my thoughts as brightly as her rose colored hair. She was a beautiful enigma, a puzzle waiting to be solved. Once the decisions had been made I plotted the course and took off as soon as possible wanting to bring the girl back to king's landing no matter what.

Scarlets pov

The second prince and his dragon landed on the far side of the beach the ground thudding as Vhagars giant form comes into contact with sand, creating a cloud around her and her rider. I see Aurelius step forward ready for anything but i motion him to stay back as i start making my way to the half way point between the prince and I.

Meeting him I can’t help but take him in. His beautiful hair and fine leather coat swaying in the sea breeze behind him. Looking as regal as he could instead of like he just road a days time to get here.

“What an honor it is for the prince himself to come calling on me i expected a simple messenger from your sister.”

‘A mere messenger could not be trusted to negotiate these very important terms”

“And you believe you can my prince”

“Why of course my lady.”

“Confident aren't you”

Aemond simply smirks his head tilting and pale blue/lavender eye filling with merriment and mischief.

“I won't deny it my lady im proud of my heritage, of my accomplishments

“I would be careful my prince A proud person could end up falling

“True but i hopeful this won't be the case for i'm here to offer you a deal

“A deal then you all have agreed to the terms i left behind.”

“Yes however we have conditions of our own.”

“And what would those conditions entail my prince?”

“It’s quite simple my lady. We wish to tie you to our family to ensure you and your dragon stay on our side.”

“And how do you all think you’ll accomplish this.?

“Well you are lucky indeed since you have several options to chose from.

“Oh?”

“Yes”

Aemond begins stalking around me as he speaks, his voice sounding like its everywhere, gaze burning into ease gages my reaction to his words.

“Originally the counsel simply wanted to kill you, but the king my sister, uncle and I all disagreed. Instead. We thought you would make an excellent addition to our court”

“Oh i left that much of an impression?”

“You did indeed”

“And how is it they wish to add a no name assassin to the royal court?”

“Well you would either be adopted by a trusted member of the court and given a title,”

“And if I didn’t want to be used as a pawn in some up incoming family’s chess game to get closer to the royal family then what

“I wasn’t finished my lady, as I was saying you can come be adopted and not only be a noble with your own dragon that has never been seen outside of my bloodline. You would also have access to. All the amenities for your dragon, and you would also become the fiancé of a royal.”

“Now. That info turned my head abruptly turning to face aemond as he was still circling around me. He has a calculated smirk on his face before shifting and bowing before me.on knee raised before taking out his sword and laying it at my feet.

“Call me selfish if you wish but I am the one who proposed this stipulation, after all the tales I've heard of your exploits, of helping the people. Of Westeros, no if i'm truthful it's been ever since thee night you ambushed the diner, you're all i've thought about.”

I'm frozen staring at the blonde. His eyes holding me captive in my place. My heart is ringing in my ear.

“Having you by my side i would consider a gift from the new gods and the old

“But you barely know me. In fact you should wish harm to me for threatening your brother”

‘What you did is nothing that Aegon didnt have coming to him for his actions i assure you i myself have threatened him multiple times.”

What if I don't wish to be your betrothed”

“Then you would simply be adopted by. My sister Rhaenyra an join our house that way until i can change your mind, either way i win.”

I look over aemonds shoulder straight at Aurelius, his voice filling my mind quickly. “Don’t not base any decisions on me, little one. We dragons are adaptable. I will follow you anywhere.”

It feels like time stops the waves still crashing around us before i taking a deep breath and look back at the prince before me.

“Ok my prince ill will come to court with you however i wish to be courted before jumping head first into a marriage.

The one eyed prince smiles his violet blue eye sparkling as he rises to his feet offering his hand out to me. I place mine in his as brings it up to his mouth. His lips planting a lingering kiss.

“That can be more than arranged my lady, please return to. Kings landing in three days time and we will welcome you and your dragon like royalty.”

“Very well but I want some guarantees first.”

“Hmm”

“You swear on your family my dragon will be cared for.”

“Yes

“Well we wills for i don't want Aurelius with the rest of he dragons in the dragon pit. I would never forgive myself if something happened to him because I choose to trust the wrong people.

“I understand my lady, they’re are cliffs with ample caves the dragons like to burrow in when not in the dragon pit, we will get one cleaned out and your dragon will be able to freely come an go as long as you can guarantee he will not attack the castle the people of kings landing”

“The only reason he would do anything would be if i where in danger. You all mean to take good care of me though dont you

“Especially so.”

“Fine then I swear as long as you uphold your end i will mine”

“Good well then my lady i bid you a good bye, there’s much to be done to prepare for your arrival”

Aemon flashes me a grin before. Bowing his head at me one last time and making the truck back towards vhagars slumbering form. A pep in his step as I watch in disbelief of what all just happened, but I guess I have three days to figure it all out.