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rejo1ced · 6 months

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#REJO1CED: an independent original character roleplay blog. written by avery , twenty - four , she / they , cst. triggering themes will be present , follow at your own risk.

a study in: escaping your past , discovering yourself , music making life mater , desiring to fit in , self - destruction , addiction , battling with your religion , &. much much more.

affliated with : @crushsung

LINKS : headcanons. playlist. pinterest.

RULES :

001 ; this is an independent &. private writing blog for an original character , all graphics found are created by me-- activity is considered low to medium 002 ; mature &. triggering content will appear on this blog. said content will be tagged as either ' cw ' &. / or ' tw '. if you need anything tagged , please don't hesitate to reach out and let me know. 003 ; this blog is heavily plot focused. plotting is the best way to get interactions going with me , as i find it the easiest way to connect to our muses and get things started. ims are always open to mutuals. inbox memes will be treated as starters ; feel free to reply to any of them. 004 ; the general dni applies here on my blog , if you are an individual who writes / supports topics like homophobia , transphobia , racism , sexism , and other gross behaviors , i will not hesitate to hard block. 005 ; ships are one of my favorite things , but with that being said , i'm only down to ship if their is chemistry between our muses. don't hesitate though to reach out if you're interested in shipping! 006 ; i've recently become a fulltime stay at home parent , and i'm still learning how to balance that with my other priorities. that means i may not always be around. my real life is always my top priority and that means my activity may vary drastically. I just ask that you please be patient with me.

STATS / TEMPORARY BIO:

name. dylan michelle price nicknames / aliases. professionally know as dylan price , but friends call her dyl or d. gender. cis woman. pronouns. she / they. birthday. september 12th , 1998 ( verse dependent ). age. verse dependent , 25 - 27. sexuality. lesbian. current location. new york city , new york. birthplace. huntsville , alabama. spoken languages. english ( fluent ) , spanish ( fluent ). education. high school graduate with some college , went for two years studying music. occupation. struggling musician trying to make it. faceclaim. liv hewson voiceclaim. julien baker. eye color. dark blue. hair color. strawberry blonde. body type. slim , almost too thin due to her addictions. height. 5' 4" scent. cigarette smoke , wears old spice krakengaurd deodorant and body spray. tattoos / piercings. tba. just know she's covered in them. personality. appears aloof , quiet , passionate , distant , thoughtful , caring.

dylan price has always fought with her religion-- she grew up in the south . she was raised in a pentecostal church , and with an love for music from an early age , it was no surprise when she joined the churches praise band. christian music is an obvious influence in her own personal music. her new single rejoice is the perfect example of it. but , that's not all that her religion has influenced. from an early age , dylan knew she was a lesbian , she recalls when she realized , after a middle school soccer game , she was sitting in the back of the bus with her then best friend ( she made sure to exclude her name and wouldn't budge on the details ) held her hand. dylan describes it as your vision clearing after you get glasses for the first time. seeing the leaves in trees and not just blobs of color. this revaluation though , led to inner turmoil-- was the way she was enough? did her god , the one she worshipped now hate her because of who she loved? this struggle eventually led to her leaving the church and her hometown of huntsville.

the next step for dylan, she recalls was scary-- newly eighteen she loaded up in her in her 1997 subaru outback ( a detail she said she couldn't leave out. ) with everything she owned , two suitcases of clothes and an old guitar , and set of to new york with her then girlfriend ( we tried to press for this information too , but she did not budge ). the next years of her life were filled with struggle. dylan faced joblessness in new york , as well as homelessness , an addiction to cocaine as well as many other drugs-- she says this was the worst time of her life, her mental health was spiraling and she attempted to end her life two times. she said she never expected to make it past the age of 23-- and luckily that wasn't true.

at twenty - four , dylan's music career started to make bounds. former musican , liddell , discovered and vouched for the budding musician when she discovered a video of dylan covering one of her songs. this support led to her being picked up by an up and coming indie record label lavender songbird records , and the creation of her first album eye to eye's release.

#pinned #dni #dnrb

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itsonlydana · 3 years

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I HAVE AN IDEA!! SBI x Gn Skeleton Hybrid reader! The reader has transparent skin so you can see their bones! But they don't have any organs or blood! They can pull out their bones and use them as weapons! They carry around a bow and arrow! The bow has that enchantment where you can use unlimited arrows! The reader has white streaks in their hair! (No stress now-)They are insecure about their body so they wear long sleeves and pants 24/1! You can create a scenario or Hc about this! Take Care <3

"adventure time" ➷ sleepy bois

pairing: c!sleepy bois x gn!skeleton!reader

idea: going on an adventure with the sleepy bois

tags/warnings: none, fluff

a/n: foxy you are so creative with those ideas, like damn. I also added a few hcs after the story since i couldn´t add them into the story, i hope that's alright and you like it :D

"Phiiiil? Are we there yet?"

"Can we take a hydration break?"

"Do you need a break for your legs old man?"

"Phi-"

"Oh my god, if you say one more thing I'm going to abandon you in this forest!"

Phil wheeled around to Tommy, Will and you, his wings puffed out as he tried to remain serious, but the innocent smiling faces of the three of you broke his masquerade. "You idiots," Phil laughed, turning back to Techno, who stood at the edge of the desert, tying his pink hair into a high braid.

Will swung one of the two lanterns you had brought back and forth, repeatedly lighting his face with which he grimaced as you caught up to Phil and Techno, your free laughter loud in the stillness of the night.

"The plan is this: we won't have to cross the desert for long, but we will have to deal with zombies," Techno explained, pointing to a spot behind several sand hills, behind which rose the top of the temple Techno had found for your adventure.

None of you had a problem with zombies, you had already brought down one or two on your way, and even if the desert zombies were even nastier due to the slowness effect, you were all capable enough to make your way to the pyramid. And if not Phil had enough healing potions with him.

Your way to the temple was fortunately not made harder by too many obstacles, you could take out the zombies from far away with your shimmering bow in the wood of which you had carved an infinity spell, and the only aggravation were the sand hills you piled up until you finally stood on the highest one looking down on the temple.

It looked really impressive, the two large towers with runes flanking the entrance, the pyramid part behind with the perfect steps that made you think about who had designed these buildings and had such an understanding of mathematical calculations and meticulous accuracy for the individual blocks.

Tommy was the first to get bored of the sight and slithered down the hill laughing, whereupon you followed the youngest.

In front of the entrance, Techno prevented you from entering the temple with a single hand gesture. "We have to be careful," he started and Tommy rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, we know temples Techno, don't be such a puss." "Tommy, it has nothing to do with being a coward, it has to do with the fact that I value my life very much and have no desire to see you step into the dynamite trap!"

At the mention of the explosives Will's eyes began to sparkle and he leaned into the discussion, "Well I agree with Techno on that one, because I would love to take the dynamite"

"Well that doesn't surprise me at all." you snorted, poking Will teasingly in the side.

Will raised a hand threateningly and ran it through your hair despite your protests, a downside to your size difference and thanks to your bow in your back, you couldn't even duck away from him but had to endure the ordeal.

After Phil interrupted both yours and Techno's and Tommy's banter, you blew off one of the strands of white hair that had fallen into your face due to the unwanted hairstyle by Will's hand. "Can we?"

The temple was dark, silent, from somewhere you could hear sand trickling down and the rustle of your clothes. Unconsciously you pulled your sleeves over your wrist as a cool breeze enveloped you and passed through your body.

Phil pulled a torch stick out of his pockets and lit it with a flint. "Well, have fun and be safe."

If it had been your first visit to one of these desert temples, you would have been guaranteed to get lost in the many corridors that stretched along the sides of the pyramid like a maze, and, because Will and Tommy were inattentive with their jokes, disappeared behind pillars without thinking.

That's exactly what they had both done, left you alone in the darkness of the hallway.

Despite their quiet laughter, you were so startled as you turned the corner that you pulled one of your bones out of your left arm and nearly punched Will in the stomach.

Grumbling to yourself as you shoved it back, you left the corridors and joined Techno and Phil in the main part of the temple.

Silver moonlight fell through the opening of the pyramid onto the terracotta pattern in the floor, directly onto the blue stone in the center of the room, and spread from there across the orange and up to you. In the light you could see individual flakes of dust dancing, a reminder of how old this structure was.

After Techno carefully removed the terracotta blocks, careful not to let a single crumb of sand fall down onto the dangerous trap, you jumped down one by one, but first lowered a rope ladder down the side.

Each of you had a different interest in the treasures these temples brought for you: Will grabbed the dynamite as usual, stuffing it into the seemingly endless inner pockets of his brown coat, Techno took the spider eyes, some of the books and some of the gold bars, Tommy insisted on getting the two diamonds and Phil swiped the glittery apple and you got the rest of the books Techno had no interest in, as well as the green emeralds you collected at home.

At home you put your newly acquired treasures in the chest next to your bed and when you woke up in the morning and discovered the small pile of sand in your shoes, you started the day with a happy smile.

Headcanons:

even though you are insecure about your body, all four boys keep trying to show you that you are special and should not be ashamed of yourself

techno and phil tell you about their travels where they met other hybrids like you who fought alongside them

before Will came back he always envied your hair, and afterward, he felt really proud to have the same hairstyle as you, always showing everyone how similar you looked.

with Tommy you had a competition to see who could scare the other one more and you were very far ahead after a day when he had shaken your hand and held the bones in his hand and had screamed so loud that it had woken up the whole house

no one dares to mess with you guys, pulling up with the one that loves tnt, a pink haired guy with an axe, Phil with his wings, tommys sword skills and you with your enchanted bow

there are many occasions where you would help Phil build something and he asks if you could lend him a hand -- and you literally do it

techno loves training with you because of your ability to use your bones as a weapon, always trying new ways to use them

no doubt that they would help you overcome your anxiety and insecureness over your body

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chipper-asks · 3 years

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Any tips on how to grow your own blog by chance?

Aah man I've written a response to this kind of question many times but I always delete it because I'm afraid of coming off as self centered or arrogant, but I definitely have some tips on what works and doesn't work (on tumblr.)

I will say that I never believed I would get to the "Big Fandom Artist" stage. I've seen people drop my name in conversations or descriptions and just assume other people know who I am and that's still incredibly wild to me. I never really pushed to get a big blog it really just happened.

But! I do have rules and personal guidelines that might help if you are thinking of actively building your blog!

1: Keep personal information and vent posts to a minimum

It should go without saying that its not a good thing for your personal information to be on the internet. Once its out there its near impossible to erase. This is for your own safety.

Vent posts give out more information than you might think, but also some people who are following you may be going through difficult times themselves. I go on the internet to get away from my stressors and problems and i've specifically catered my dashboard to reflect my desires. I have no doubt others are the same.

I've unfollowed mutuals because they vented too frequently. I enjoyed what they made! But it stressed me out to read their vent posts because I couldn't help. I realized it was taking a toll on my mental health and I made the tough decision to unfollow.

It is very tempting to vagueblog because its nice getting out all the angry feelings, but a blog with thousands of people following it is not the place to do it.

2: Shitpost vs Quality Foley

I could go into a massive essay on this alone (ive even written out an outline already) but i'll keep it as brief as I can.

Throughout my time on Tumblr I’ve seen a number of posts of artists complaining about the lack of notes on their serious work compared to the abundance of notes on their shitposts.

This is because Tumblr IS a place of shitposts. It's like squeezing a clown nose and expecting it not to honk.

However! It's more complicated than that and i've broken it up into four parts organized by importance.

A. Relevance/Meta: Is it something that people are already familiar with? Is it something that's currently going on?

People want to enjoy things they're already familiar with. For example, people getting into Hollow Knight are more likely to follow a blog that posts HK content regularly over a HK blog that posted a picture of Grimm once and then is full of original content. It's not that people don't like your original stuff, its just not what they're looking for.

If you like striking while the iron is hot, meta jokes are the way to go. Making references to games like Among Us during the height of its popularity for example would get you lots of notes.

B. Hilarity

Is it funny? Does it subvert expectations?

Shitposts will always be more popular than a well drawn post. People like to laugh and share things that laugh. A cool, well drawn post is more often than not met with a "hm, cool. scrolls down."

This is a polished comic I made 10 months ago. I'm very proud of it and i'm pleased with the amount of attention it got. It took me 2 days to finish.

This is a shitpost I made 3 years ago that I still haven't been able to top. It took me 30 minutes to make.

That's not to say a well drawn post can get popular! It's just that people enjoy a good laugh over something shiny. This is a factor of knowing your audience. Some things land better than others and you'll be better off if you just roll with what you get.

I will say tho I appreciate the people who reblog my oc posts 200x more than people who reblog my shitposts and fanart. Those are quality followers and you must cherish them.

C. Appeal

Is it cute? Is it fluffy? Is the design easy to understand? Does it make people emotional? Is it angsty? Is it relatable?

People like cute shit. People like things that make them hurt (albeit not too much). People like things that they can see themselves in.

D. Skill

There is some merit in being good at what you do. People do like funny things more than shiny things, but shiny things are cool too.

If you post things that are funny? You're normal horoscopes.

If you post things that are well drawn? (its really telling that I can't think of someone right off the top of my head)

If you post things that are funny AND well drawn? Well then you're iguanamouth

3: Know your boundaries.

There's a difference between being understanding/tagging things correctly and catering to people who want you to be someone else.

I know that many people get upset with others who gender the vessels in Hollow Knight. While it doesn't bother me, I can recognize the misgendering of vessels as a source of dysphoria and I tag accordingly.

If someone comes into my inbox and tells me to stop drawing a character because they're "problematic," I'm just going to block them and go about my day.

4: This is your blog, its your rules.

I'm apologetically myself on my blog. I post what I want and what inspires me. The reason why I have so many AUs is because its my blog and I like AUs. If a large portion of the fandom doesn't like my AUs, its their loss, I make great AUs.

In fact, its just a good mindset in general to have. If some people don't like what you make, its not your problem. It makes you happy and it makes hundreds of others happy then continue to do what you do. It's impossible to have a large following and not have someone who dislikes you purely out of spite.

Make stuff for yourself, not because you want numbers.

5: Don't feed the trolls.

If someone sends you hate, take a picture of it, share it with your friends, laugh, block the person, delete message, move on with your life.

It's really fun to feed the trolls, but feeding trolls attracts more trolls and soon its not fun anymore. Just laugh when you get your first anon hate, maybe frame it in your room, and don't even acknowledge them with a "fuck you."

6: Recognize your position.

This is more advice for when you do get a big blog. You get to a point when you realize you have a portion of your audience who value much more than a regular human being and are willing to take up arms for you.

Do. Not. Weaponize. Your audience.

It's incredibly shitty and can ruin peoples lives.

7: Post Frequency/Schedule

Now this is one I can't do. It's normal for me to become incredibly active for 2 weeks and then end up posting nothing for a month. I don't have the patience to build up a queue of new things.

However! If you have more discipline than me, posting daily or twice a week builds up anticipation for your next post. You're dependable and people have the chance to look forward to seeing something from you on their dash on Friday.

Thats all I can think of so far.

There's no TL;DR you'll miss my important advice within these tips.

#nofandom #long post

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underappreciated-characters · 3 years

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COLD SHEETS

Pairing: Denki Kaminari x Reader x Sero Hanta

Tags: Angst, Love triangle

Summary: After what seems like ages of being a lonely house spouse, your husbands best friend starts to check up on you. However, this innocent act quickly turns into something much more.

Misc: Cheater!Reader, HouseSpouse!Reader, Fem!Reader

A/N: part one maybe?

Master List || Prompt List

When you think of why this all started, it seems obvious. The two of you had long since drifted apart. Denki only ever came home to sleep, if he even felt the need to do that. The only time you even saw him was on T.V., surrounded by other much more beautiful women who were vital to his popularity, to his career. The world needed him as the Stun Gun hero, Chargebolt, but you needed him as your Denki. The bond the two of you shared was sacred. That’s why you knew you should feel guilty about what you had done -what you were doing- but that was the worst part; You didn’t.

You really had loved him when the two of you were younger. Perhaps it was because you were naïve and in love that made you think his messages and occasional thoughtful gifts would always be enough for you. However, the truth was the devastating loneliness of being a house wife was too much. It wasn’t that you didn’t try other things. You had hundreds of hobbies to fill the gap - but none of them could fill the gap he left. Except for one. When his best friend began to check up on you, that was the beginning of the end.

It hadn’t started as such, but your illicit affair with Sero Hanta quickly became hot and heavy. It was just sex. He was there to not only fill the gap that your husband's absence left in you, but to fill anything else you pleased. The first kiss was soft and tentative, but when you gave him the go ahead, it changed into so much more. It was fueled with longing and desire. It made you feel beautiful and wanted. His hands slowly made their way down from your face to your hips. His touch light and feathery.

You guided him to the bedroom and he laid you down. Your skin ached with lust as Sero touched you in all the right places. His tongue, his lips, his hips - it was all driving you over the edge. The both of you moved fluidly and in sync. He seemed to know your every want without you having to tell him. He left you breathless in a way that Denki never did.

It was fine. You could stop yourself anytime you wanted. You were using Sero in Denki’s place the same way Sero was using you in the absence of a partner. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself, until, one day, you found yourself sitting across from him in public. Then came the glancing down at your hands and the urge to intertwine them. There were conversations that lasted for hours about everything and nothing all at once. The kissing grew gentler, the sex less frequent but somehow more fulfilling. Then the dreaded words that sent a shiver down your spine;

“ I love you. ”

You weren’t even entirely sure he had meant to say it, it came out so casually. The conversation came to a standstill. Suddenly the background noises became unbearably loud. “I-”“Do you mean it?”

“Do you want me to?” Never before had you been so unsure of what your answer should be. “I have to think about-” “Hey!” Came a voice that used to be oh so familiar.

“Hey, Denki, what’s up, bro?” Hanta asked with a grin. You stiffened as you felt him come up behind you. “What’s this? Sero Hanta on a date?” He asked before getting a good look at who was sitting down. “Oh, (Y/n), what a surprise!” Denki exclaimed.

“What are you two doing together?” He asked, pulling up a chair. “Oh, you know, just talking about what the best way to dump you would be.” Sero said with a grin. Your breathing stopped. “Smartass.” Denki said, giving Sero a well placed punch in the shoulder. “Nah, just happened to run into each other while I was on patrol. Realized how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other and decided to catch up. How can we all work at the same agency and not talk to each other anymore?”

As Sero steered the conversation into more casual waters, your breathing returned to its normal pace. Denki, of course, spent only a couple minutes with them before getting recognized. “Ah, looks like my fans have found me and I am way too tired to do autographs today. Handle this for me while I walk my wife home, will you, Sero?” “Sure, what are friends for?”

You followed Denki to his parked car about a block away. “So did you and Sero get to catch up? What did you guys talk about?” The blonde asked. “About how much has changed since we were all in school, mostly.” You said, eyes trained on the window. A new feeling of unease grew in the pit of your stomach. Guilt.

You felt so guilty just sitting next to him. “(Y/n)?” “Huh?” “I said I’m sorry.” You had been so wrapped up in your anxious thoughts, you hadn’t even realized the car had long since come to a halt at your front door. “I know I’ve been gone for so long and we haven’t gotten any time together lately. I’m sorry.”

“O-Oh. Don’t worry about it Denki, I’m fine on my own.” You replied. “Of course, you are. You’re (F/n)(L/n), strongest hero in Japan.” He said. “But you shouldn’t have to do everything by yourself. I’m gonna take some time off so we can be together again.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as your anxiety and guilt reached their peak. His arms wrapped around you, bringing you into a gentle embrace. “I know, I’ve missed you too, my love.”

#bnha #myhero #my hero fanfic #denki #sero #smut #mha smut #pro hero au #sadfic #bakusquad #x reader #x you #x you smut #lemon #love triangle #break up #cheating #Cold Sheets

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kenanda · 3 years

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DEAL

Words: 1,3k Rating: MATURE Ship: LonelyEyes | Jonah-Elias/Peter Lukas Tags: established relationship; pre-negotiated kink; slight d/s tones; slight exhibitionism; kissing; kissing against a wall; M/M; drinking; evil old men in love (and horny!)

Disclaimer: These characters DO NOT belong to me, they are the property of Rusty Quill's The Magnus Archives.

WARNING: This work has content not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, or in any way bothered by what's in the tags, DO NOT READ!

This work is a fill for the following prompt: 53 - kiss against a wall

Hope I managed to do it some justice. I had no idea where I was going with this at first, but I'm happy with how it turned out!! Once again, thank you for the prompt @nammikisulora! <3

DEAL

It wasn’t often that they went out to drink. Elias preferred the quiet of his own office, or the privacy of his home, where he could put on some jazz and a robe, and look out of his window while sipping expensive red wine.

Sometimes, he got to see something interesting, such as the neighbour’s wife and their dutiful plumber, who always seemed to display extra care towards the piping system of that particular flat. Elias had considered pulling on some strings just to see what would come out of it, but that was the Web’s style, not his.

His was to watch, and more often than not, to get a laugh out of it.

“You really do have too much free time on your hands,” Peter chastised when Elias told him, and knocked back the rest of his drink. “Sure you don’t have anything better to do with your power?”

Peter looked positively ravishing under the green neon light of the pub, not only to Elias, but to anybody who looked at him. Peter was a big man, and a rather dashing one if you asked Elias, despite the general paleness and the dark circles under his eyes. It was more than expected that people looked at him — and with a nudge from Elias, they certainly did.

Why wouldn’t they? Peter was his husband, and he wanted them to know that the golden ring on his finger had been put there by him.

“Sure,” Elias chuckled. “I could watch you.”

Peter shuddered. “Please, don’t. The mere idea of it gives me the chills. There are far too many eyes here already.”

Elias looked around. It was still early in the evening, and there were only a few people in there with them, but their eyes followed their every movement.

Elias scratched his chin, then gave Peter a toothy smile.

“We could go somewhere else if you’d like.”

Peter was up on his feet the second Elias finished the sentence, and Elias had to stifle a laugh.

“Good. Let’s go.”

Elias let Peter go ahead while he settled the bill. Peter really did hate socials, but every now and again he agreed to these small meetings because he knew that what came afterwards was worth it.

Elias was a man of his word, always had been; he knew how to repay the effort of others with great generosity, and no little amount of enthusiasm in Peter’s case.

The fact that Peter had managed to endure three hours of Elias showing him off to a small audience (small, but still larger than last time. Progress!) was thrilling on its own.

Elias stepped outside to find a grey dusk of biting breeze and yellow street lights, and Peter puffing out cigarette smoke up in the air.

“All done?” he asked.

Elias didn’t reply, only stepped up and took the cigarette while looking into Peter’s eyes. He gave the item a long drag, then slowly released the smoke through lips and nostrils.

Peter’s gaze lingered on his lips for a split second, then drew away quickly.

Oh, this was lovely. Peter’s pining was to Elias sweet torture, for what could be more agonising, more sould-splitting to someone who relished in loneliness, than the urge of seeking out another’s touch?

“Come on,” Elias called. Peter followed.

They walked some distance into narrow streets, Elias leading the way into quiet places, away from the all the hubbub of a Friday evening — though it was still there. A presence, an unbearable knowledge of hundreds of people just a few blocks away.

Peter behaved well and never called the fog upon them, but the tense gait in which he carried himself gave him away.

“Wait,” Elias said, suddenly. “I believe there’s a group of people coming.”

Peter looked at him as if he’d just received the worst news of his life, but he stood there, next to Elias, waiting for said group to draw nearer.

Their voices grew in volume as they approached; there were perhaps seven or eight of them. Elias watched Peter like a hawk from the corner of his eye, but refrained from reading his mind. This was their agreement. Peter would endure this, the mortifying ordeal of being seen, desired, and then Elias would give him what he really wanted.

Before the group got too close to them, though, Elias pulled Peter into an alley. It was dark and the smell of old piss and garbage was almost unbearable, but the way that Peter sagged against a brick wall and sighed with relief had Elias chuckling.

“Are you alright, love?” Elias asked, after Peter had recomposed himself. He received only a curt nod in response. “Good.”

Elias stepped forward, into Peter’s space where he fit so well, and Peter leaned against his forehead.

“Thought you were really going for it this time,” Peter said.

“No, you’ve done enough. Was it worth it, though?”

Peter nodded.

“Masochist,” Elias said softly. Peter snorted, then went quiet. Ah, yes, this part.

“Come,” Elias whispered.

Nearby, the group from before passed them and soon were no longer heard. For the first time, Peter didn’t pay them mind; the way he was looking at Elias’ mouth was making the latter man all sorts of warm.

It took Elias pulling him by the collar to make Peter act. They started out slow, just a mere brush of lips, more breath than touch. Peter’s hair was soft under Elias’ palm, so he locked a fist around it, then gently released. Peter groaned.

“Yes,” he sighed, then gave in.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Elias knew that they were probably far too old for these little games, for making out in a dirty alley like two teenagers stealing whatever touches they could manage before they got caught. He knew that, he told himself that, but the part of his brain responsible for keeping him from embarrassing himself just did not work at times like this.

Why would he care about anything other than pressing Peter against that dirty wall and kissing him until his face was hot from beard burn? Peter was so big, but he yielded so easily. Elias could have him hard in his trousers just like this, and there was something so primal in it, so primitive. It kept Elias coming for more, because it had nothing to do with the Eye or his powers.

When Elias pulled away, Peter chased after him, and held Elias’ face in place to bite at his lower lip. He was breathing hard through his nose, and the weight of his body made Elias bend backwards a little bit. It was almost too much to bear, but Peter needed this, needed him, and Elias loved it.

Just as it had started though, the kiss ended — both coming down from a shared frenzy that had had them nearly climbing on top of each other against that wall. Elias was sure that he would have to toss these boxers in the bin when he got home, but even that could wait.

Elias watched as Peter sagged again, head falling back with a thump. Elias caressed his hair.

“If you’re planning on staying away for another three whole months, you’d better warn me first. This,” Elias said, and pecked him gently on the lips. “Could have gone for a lot longer if I’d known you’d be this hungry. A lot longer.”

Peter huffed out a laugh. “It was just enough, Elias, thank you.”

“Like hell it was.” Elias smacked him on the chest and pulled him up. “We’re going to my flat. Now.”

Peter could only agree and follow, but the shit-eating grin on his face was very telling. It always made him look unbearably boyish, which had to be against the law somewhere. Elias had always been weak to Peter’s looks, and walking around flaunting his husband always felt obscenely good — but there were parts of him, such as this (the need and the surrender that came of it), that Elias would damn sure keep only to himself.

#nanda's ramblings #my fic #lonelyeyes #lonelyeyes fic #tma #jonah magnus #elias bouchard #peter lukas #lonelyeyes fanfiction

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

The sniffles

TITLE: The sniffles CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: ONE SHOT AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her.

Imagine that against everything you both thought possible, Loki gets the flu.

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: It’s getting to be chilly season, so the flu is lurking about. Get your flu shots! Be careful! Socially distance! Language, maybe? Mostly fluff. Mentions of illness? (Do people tag that?) Not beta’d or edited, really–probs lots of typos.

SUMMARY: Loki gets sick, though he insists it’s just allergies. Charlie puts on her bossy pants and shows Loki she’s a bamf. Loki is a Nervous Nelly.

Loki had nearly frowned himself into an alternate dimension when it first happened–a simple sneeze. He had been sorting through some paperwork that Stark had asked him to complete, a mindless task meant to keep him occupied under the guise of his rehabilitation. With a shrug, Loki aired out the papers, assuming dust had tickled his nose for the briefest of moments, but thought nothing more of it.

Two years into his exile to Midgard and working under the tech guru, Loki had pretty much worked off his sentence in Tony’s eyes. According to anyone with half a brain, depriving Loki of his magic, the major condition of his exile, was punishment enough for the Prince (Loki would never admit that the act of cleaning a whole kitchen to perfection on his hands and knees was methodical and soothing, but it was one of the many joys of his near mortal existence). Still, it turned out that Stark was a bleeding heart and could recognize the tell-tale signs of a son who never got proper validation from their father (or enough hugs). It could have also been the fact that the former hissing-serpent-of-an-Asgardian all but turned into a golden retriever after he fell in love. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that Stark was deathly afraid of the five-foot-nothing woman Loki now shared an apartment with, and who would most definitely cause him bodily harm for overworking her boyfriend.

All in all, within the constraints of this supposed punishment, everything was wonderful.

Then, Loki sneezed again.

And continued to do so.

But, of course, he wasn’t ill.

Achoo!

Charlie started, letting out a half-strangled shriek that soon turned into a groan as objects clattered on her desk. Her jaw clenched together so tightly, she thought her teeth would crack.

Now, Charlie wasn’t irritated that her dork alien of a boyfriend was sneezing in her presence while she was trying to get work done. No, she was irritated because she had sent him to bed (again, for the sixth time) twenty minutes ago when his fever and chills started to turn him into an unintelligible, hallucinating mess. She thought she had been quite clear in her order for him to get some rest. After all, it had been three days since Loki first sneezed, and though he had brushed it off as a bad case of seasonal allergies, his denial was starting to get ridiculous, not to mention, harmful.

Turns out thousand year old demigods-turned-mortal are no better at following orders than any other man on the planet. In fact, Charlie was pretty sure he was being more of a brat than any other mortal… not that she’d ever tell him.

Pushing away her keyboard, she stood away from the desk, taking a second to orient herself and stare in the general direction she had heard the sneeze come from.

She schooled her facial expression into what she hoped was a no-nonsense expression. “Go. Back. To. Bed.”

Loki grumbled, his voice particularly hoarse and gravelly with an added nasally quality from his blocked passages. “It’s allergies and I have things to do,” he retorted stubbornly, ignoring the fact that his whole world seemed to tilt ever-so-slightly with each step he took.

“Allergies, my ass. Loki Odinson, you have the flu. You belong back in bed. Don’t make me be the bad guy here.”

He let out a half-hearted snort, pretending that he did not at all feel the need to double over and repeat whatever little breakfast he was able to get down his gullet that morning. “I am not sick. I haven’t been sick in four centuries. Your sorry Midgardian microbes cannot infect me.”

“Yeah, when you had your full powers. Now, though–”

“I’m fine-d.”

It was a small, momentary miracle that Charlie wasn’t able to see the way he swayed on a spot, holding his head pathetically against the sudden bout of vertigo that assaulted him. At least he thought she couldn’t. Though Loki could not explain the fact that her hand grasped him by an elbow a moment later with what appeared to be no difficulty. Clearly he was off his game, and he didn’t even bother complaining when Charlie half-dragged him all the way to the sofa and forced him to sit.

He couldn’t help but smile at the brows knitted together in worry or the lower lip being chewed within an inch of its soft, supple life. The extreme gentleness and care she took in smoothing back his hair and pressing the back of her hand to his forehead made his stomach twist in the most pleasant way. This was the best antidote, he supposed, just watching her fuss over his shivering body. Loki certainly wasn’t used to being taken care of in this manner. It felt almost wrong to succumb to the desire of slumping into the pillows and letting her dote on him.

“I love you,” slipped from his lips before he was even aware that his brain had attempted to convey the message.

Charlie beamed in response, cheeks turning warm copper with a blush. Her fingers trailed down the sides of his face to cup his cheeks. “I love you, too, sweets, but if you don’t stay still and rest, I will put on Stark’s suit and make you.”

Loki smirked, twining one of her curls around his finger and letting it bounce back with a gentle tug. “Have I told you how attractive I find you when you get all bossy?”

“Only every single second this week, Lo.”

“Well, I firmly believe in truth-telling, dove,” he added, voice betraying the exhaustion that seeped into his bones. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that the gentle circles she drew around his temples were some sort of ancient magic. “I’m late for work,” he protested, making an effort to sit back up. He would admit that they way Charlie shoved him back onto the cushions was a little distracting for two entirely different reasons: one, he was weak enough that Charlie could push him down like it was nothing; and, two… it was sort of… sexy. He would take them both to his grave.

“I called Tony and told him you were sick.”

Loki frowned. “What did he say?”

“He asked FRIDAY to queue up ”Ding dong! The witch is dead“,” she joked, lips tugging up in a smirk. “He said to take the week off. No one needs your Asgardian super bugs rolling around the Tower.” Charlie’s lips pressed against his forehead, followed immediately by a sigh. “You’re burning up again, Loki.”

“Everything hurts,” he conceded in a small voice, feeling like a failure when the concern etched in her features deepened further.

Charlie took in the complaint with a resolute nod.

“OK. I’ll go to the pharmacy down the street for some medicine and some electrolytes. You get some rest.” She patted his cheek and made to stand when Loki’s hand wrapped around her wrist.

“I’ll come with you.” He assured, at once, hoping the edge of nervousness wasn’t obvious in his voice.

“Nice try, super spreader.” Her fingers peeled his, dexterously. “No. Get some rest. I’ll be back in twenty.”

“But–”

“I promise you I will be fine, Loki. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

Loki was still reluctant as he watched her cool and confident expression. He shifted awkwardly. He knew that Charlie was entirely capable of any task and she had adapted well to the technology available to her as a non-seeing person, but… Norns, he was just a pathetic mess when it came to her. The thought of anything happening to her… “I know, but–”

“You worry. I understand, but this is important, Loki. You’re important and you’re sick and you need me to go get you medicine.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against her hand for a long moment before finding the courage to speak. “Just… be careful, alright? Maximum alertness, yeah?”

“I promise,” she assured in a whisper, leaning in to kiss his crown. “Please get some rest until I get back.” Her fingers were back to scratching his scalp, combing through his shaggy locks until he could no longer fight against the heaviness of sleep. He uttered half a protest before drifting off, leaving Charlie to cover him up with the spare blanket she kept on the sofa and tucking him in.

Charlie would not say that she was nervous about going out without Loki, but she was certainly not not nervous. She wrapped herself up warm to ward off the autumn chill and triple checked her belongings: keys, phone, card wallet, cane. Her head turned over her shoulder on instinct, as if attempting to spare a glance at Loki sleeping on the couch, before she closed the door behind her.

Loki awoke with a start what felt like an eternity later. His hair was sticking out in all directions and his clothes felt like they were pasted to his body with sweat. He was no longer on the couch, but in bed, and he felt… marginally better. Still, his heart was thumping loudly against his ribcage with a sense of uneasiness.

Charlie.

Where was Charlie?

“Oh, gods, please no.” It was too still. Too quiet. “CHARLIE!?” He called frantically, kicking the covers off of himself, despite the fact that his head disliked his sudden change in momentum. He grit his teeth against the nausea that rose immediately after. He needed to get out of bed and–

“Oh, you’re up!” Charlie chirped happily from the doorway.

His head snapped toward her voice to find her standing with a tray and very carefully balancing a bowl of soup, a sports drink and a bottle of water atop it. The grace with which she was managing to balance the liquids over the wooden serving tray was uncharacteristic–Charlie had never been particularly poised due to her impatience and going blind had not helped matters. After a minute, she placed the tray beside him on the bed and managed to sit down without any major spillage. Loki beamed at the satisfied look on her face and the anxiously flitting and hovering gaze she got when she was particularly excited.

“You’re back,” he breathed softly, fingertips trailing over the hand resting closest to him.

“I was only gone for fifteen minutes.” Charlie giggled. “Do you not remember taking your medicine and coming to bed?”

Loki shook his head before remembering his replies had to be aloud. “Er… no. No, I don’t.”

“You were pretty out of it,” she admitted, not thinking anything of it. “We had a lot of extra veggies, so I made you soup.”

He swallowed at the lump in his throat to no avail as he watched the perfectly cubed pieces of vegetables floating in a golden broth. He could practically feel her efforts radiating off the bowl with every plume of steam that rose enticingly. “You cooked?” His voice caught slightly.

“Yeah. Don’t tell me if it’s no good. It took me forever to chop things, so I might actually cry,” she replied, only half serious.

He picked up the bowl and tentatively sipped at the broth, letting out an involuntary moan when the rich taste flooded his taste buds. “Charlie, it… it’s perfect. It’s delicious.” The satisfied grin she gave in response made the remainder of his pain float away like dandelion fluff. He sipped some more before letting out a contented sigh as his bones warmed. “You are a wonder of wonders, Charlotte Camden.”

Charlie snorted. “I went to the pharmacy and managed not to burn down the apartment. I am middling, at best.”

“Say what you want, but I am proud of you,” he whispered, enjoying the blush on her cheeks as he slurped down the rest of his soup.

He knew she was secretly pleased with the praise, even if she didn’t admit it. Loki was aware that he worried all too much about giving her extra independence with all the what-ifs that popped up in his head. She was always so eager to challenge herself and had proven time and again she was capable of so much more than what she did on a daily basis. Loki was still in her life because she desired it, not because she needed anything from him.

For goodness’ sake, here she was, minding him.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Charlie. I feel restored, already.”

“Finally, he admits illness!” She snickered under her breath while Loki grumbled. “Of course, Loki. It is my distinct pleasure.” She leaned in just enough to prompt Loki to proffer his cheek, skin warm from the flush that could only half be attributed to the warmth of the broth. Her fingers trailed over his scalp, making him shudder from head to toe. “Drink all your fluids and back to bed,” she ordered gently before disappearing back out the bedroom door.

Loki wasn’t used to being taken care of like this but… he could get used to it.

#Loki #Lover #Others #Submitted one shot #submission #the sniffles #fanfictrashdump

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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years

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Ain’t My Fault

Request By: @rileynicole1967

Request: hi!! i was wondering if you could do a one shot for deanxreader based off the song “aint my fault” by Zara Larsson. maybe she could be singing it to him idk i’ll keep the specifics to you ;) do whatever your heart desires. maybe end it with implied smut or actual smut 😏 (it’s okay if you can’t or aren’t taking requests right now. but if you ever have time i’m sure you’ll have fun with it cause it’s such a fun/sexual song :)

Word Count: 2089

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Characters: Dean and Reader

Summary: The Reader puts on a sexy show for Dean. But Dean is blindfolded.

Disclaimer: Language, Drinking, Mention of death, Angst, Blindfold, Sexual Choking, Hair pulling, A whole lot of touching and feeling, Implied Smut,

A/N: This was AWESOME to write guys!! I listened to that song many time just to get the motel part perfect!

A/N 2: Sorry this was supposed to be done yesterday but life kind of happened and took my 4 yr old on a much needed mommy/son outing for ice cream.

*18+ Content. Anyone that is younger than 18 will need to scroll right on. I don’t want to risk my account being thanosed

**Please DO NOT copy and paste my work WITHOUT my permission and WITHOUT giving me the proper credit. I work way too hard on my work to have to stolen. You may share the link to this post.

***This work is also posted on Instagram, Wattpad, and AO3. Please go show it some love over there.

****Follow my other accounts Instagram, Twitter, Wattpad, and AO3

*****DMs are OPEN for REQUESTS

Song Inspired by Zara Larsson’s Ain’t My Fault (Click HERE to listen)

Forever Tags: @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @magssteenkamp @elansaidaris @hobby27 @440mxs-wife

Dean/Jensen Tags: @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44

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I sit in the bar and throw back another shot. My hunt didn't go as planned. Lost a friend and good hunter. Well, he wasn't that great of a hunter, but still. He didn't deserve to go out that way. May he rest in peace. Now to go back to Cheyenne, and tell his wife. I throw back another shot.

The door to bar opens and I feel the cool evening breeze. Out of habit, I look towards the door to see who is walking in. That's when I see him walk in. The red shirt he wears stands out more than anything in this bar. The way he runs his hands through his short hair makes me catch my breath. The way his body moves around, I instantly know he's a hunter. But not just any hunter, this is a Winchester.

He looks around the bar as if he's looking for someone. Even from across the bar, I can see his green eyes flutter this way and that. I have never seen green eyes like that. So bright and that they look almost fake. When he doesn't find or see what he's looking for he makes his way to the bar. He takes a seat a few seats away from me and orders a beer. He takes a couple glances around and those green eyes land on me. With a small smirk, he winks at me.

Quickly looking away, I order a few more rounds of shots. When the small drinks are placed in front of me, I shoot back the golden brown drink. I can still feel his eyes on me. A quick sideways glance, I see that he has turns part of his body towards me. I look away and shoot back that last three shots. I start to slip out of my chair and when I look up I see him standing right there. Beer bottle in hand.

How did he get here so fast? I wonder. I mean, I've heard stories about the Winchesters, so I'm not going to doubt anything at this point. "Sorry," I try to move pass him but his green eyes hold me there.

"Have we met?" His deep rough voice suddenly has my brain sending signal all the way down to my core. Fuck, the sound of his voice was almost better than the whiskey I just shot. I mean, this could be the alcohol talking too.

"I wouldn't forget you if we had." Did I really say that out loud? Yep, I'm an ass who will most likely regret this in the morning.

He chuckles which makes me wish I had my legs crossed. Fuck. I'm starting to feel the ache and pulling in between my legs. I knew I had to get out of here. Silent rule between us female hunters: Never sleep with a Winchester. If you do, don't get attached because those Winchester men are a love them in the moment kind of man. Then they are gone without a word the next morning.

"Good one," His smile lingers on his too perfect face. "I'm Dean Winchester." He stretches his free hand out.

"Figures. I've of heard of you," my hand, having a mind of its own, takes it and shakes it. "I'm YN YLN."

Dean Winchesters smile gets a bit bigger. He sits in the empty chair by him and without thinking, I do the same. I make sure I cross my legs too. "I've heard of you, too." Damn it, his voice really needs to stop doing that. I squeeze my legs tighter together. "Word on the street is that you're a badass hunter with a tongue who takes and gives no fucks."

"Is that what they're saying about me?" I chuckle and look down. "I get the job done. That's all."

For the next two hours we talk. We exchange some of our hunting stories. He has saved the world a several times and lives up to the stories I've heard from other hunters. As we talk, He drinks and I chug water and snack on some crappy bar fries. Before the clock hits ten, I get up out of my seat and tell him I gotta get back to my motel and get some sleep.

"Do you need a lift?" Deans voice, sexy as it is, is a bit slurry.

"No, It's just around the block," I say.

"Don't like it," He gets up and throws cash onto the bar counter. He takes keys out of his pocket and shakes them. "I'll take you back."

I smile and can't help but feel the tightness in my core. It's practically screaming right now. "I'm a big girl," I say remember that silent rule.

"I'm afraid I have to insist, sweetheart," He gently takes my arm and hooks it around his and walks me out. "You never know what sick bastard wants to get his hands on a beautiful thing like you. Hunter or not, you could get hurt."

So I let Dean Winchester take me back to my motel room.

Sitting in the parking lot in front of my room, we talk a little bit more. I haven't talked that much to just one person before. I have always kept talks with others short. I start to get out and Dean gets out with me.

"Don't say anything," He says walking around to my side. "Let me just make sure you make it inside alright."

I throw my hands up and let him walk me to the door. I repeat the silent rule in my head. Never sleep with a Winchester. Never sleep with a Winchester. Never sleep with a Winchester. I open my door and step inside, Dean watches my every move.

"Do you want to come in?" I catch myself asking.

"Sure," Dean follows me inside.

I don't know what the fuck I just did, but I am not backing out. My body seems to know what I what more than my brain. "I'm going to use the bathroom real quick." Before I close the door to the bathroom, I see Dean take a seat in the motel table chair and pull out his phone. I turn to the bathroom sink and splash my face and see the look in my own eyes. The lust. The hunger. The need. I pull the hair band from my hair and shake it out.

"Here we go," I smile to myself. I instantly become a whole new person.

I make my way out of the bathroom. Dean is leaning back in the chair. "I hope you don't mind, but I raided your mini fridge." He points to a few empty mini bottles of alcohol.

"Oh that's fine," I walk over to my phone that's on the table and find the perfect song. Setting it down, I open up my bag and pull out the tie that I carry with me. "I hope you don't music."

"I love music," Dean says shifting in his seat. I can see a noticeable bulge forming tightly in his pants.

"Good," I turn towards Dean. "Just feel the music once the music starts." He eyes the tie in my hand. He smirks and raises an eyebrow. I bite my lip as I feel the wetness in my pants start to form. I take the tie and gently wrap it around his eyes and tie a knot so it's secure.

I press play on the phone and lean behind him. "Like I said, feel the music."

As the song starts, I slowly run my hands over his shoulders. Feeling the firm muscle under neath the layer of red. I suck in a soft breath. I lean behind him and press my lips to his neck and trail them to his ear. I feel the muscles tense and relax. I move to the other side and put my lips to his ear and whisper the lyrics to him.

"It ain't my fault you keep turning me on. It ain't my fault you got, got me so gone. It ain't my fault I'm not leavin' alone. It ain't my fault you keep turning me on." I slowly push away and notice a small little smile on his face. I walk around straddle his lap and start on the buttons of that red shirt. Figures, there's another layer under it.

I push this first layer down and when I do, Deans hands grab my hips. With one hand and take both of them and pin them down between our bodies. One of his fingers slips out and starts to firmly stroke the crotch of my jeans. I bite my lip and suck in a breath. Just the touch alone sends sparks throughout my body.

Taking my free hand, I grab the back of his head and grip the small hair. I feel his hands ball into fists. I press my forehead to his and he tries to bring his lips to mine. He can't due to my firm grip. "So if I put your hands where my eyes can't see. Then you're the one who's got a hold on me. No I, can't be responsible, responsible." I softly sing along to the song. I softly and quickly press my lips to his.

Dean's lips part and I feel the tip of his tongue on my lips. I push away and slid off his lap, making sure my hand brushed against his already hard erection. I make my way around the chair again and slowly slide my hands back down his chest. Sighing as I feel the muscles again. As the lyrics of the song start again It ain't my fault you came in looking like that. You just made me trip, fall, and land on your lap. Certain bad boy smooth, body hotter than a sauna. I don't mean to be rude, but I look so damn good on ya. I grip the bottom of his black t-shirt and pull it up over his head. Without the blindfold moving either.

Nothing prepared me for Deans hand to grip my neck gently but firmly from behind. Dean pulls my neck down and presses his lips to mine. He slips his tongue into my mouth and explores it. His tongue runs along my teeth and pushes my tongue aside. Trying to claim dominance.

I push away from him. His hand reluctantly pulls away from my neck and falls back to his lap. I walk around him and un do my pants and shimmy out of them. Dean tilts his to the side as he hears my pants hit the ground. I got back and sit on Deans lap but this time, my back is a hundred percent to him. I grab his hand and use them to run over my body. From my shirt covered breast to my naked thighs. My head rolls back and to the side as he take control of his hands back.

"Too much shirt," he whispers into my ear. He grabs the hem of my shirt and flawlessly takes it off. I hear the fabric fall floor and I bring a hand back to his face. As swiftly as he took my shirt off, he takes my bra off. Both his firm and calloused hands squeeze both my breast and pinches the sensitive nipple making them hard under his hands.

My head falls back onto Deans shoulder. He takes hold of my neck again and kisses my neck and his free hand trails my body and slowly disappears under my lace panties. His finger slowly circle around my clit and that's all he does. I suck in a breath and bite my lip as my own arousal slowly turns into a climax.

Dean kisses my neck again as the lyrics of the song say So if I put your hands where my eyes can't see. Then you're the one who's got a hold on me. No I, can't be responsible, responsible. Then without warning, Dean pushes me off his lap. I turn to see him rip the tie of his face. Those gorgeous green eye were filled lust, hunger, desire, the whole bit.

He closes the gap between us and backs us to the bed where he pushes me down onto it. I lay on the bed and watch as he takes his pants off and slowly takes my panties off. He smiles at how wet they are. He sets them aside and settles himself between my legs. He takes my hands and pins them above my head.

"You're turn," he nips my ear and he slips inside me.

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Note

I have so many prompts😭😬 my last one was "Peter works at a rescue, Tony comes to get a doggo because he’s a single man in his 50s starting to feel the emptiness of the penthouse more and more. He gets way more than that."👬🏻🐶 But if that's not your thing and you fancy having a look at the ones I think of + ones others have come up with and I thought were cute I'll leave you the link ( /tagged/pp%3A%20prompt ) 🌸🌸🌸 can't wait to read regardless of the prompt!! have a lovely day!!

Struck From A Great Height

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Teen (T) Notes: This was perfect! I love puppies and Tony with a puppy was a true treat to envision. Thanks for the prompt @puppypeter! I’ll take the next one please ;D Oh, & the picture Tony sends to Peter is this one! Word Count: ~3.3k Warnings: There aren’t any - just cute puppies. Summary:

Tony is lonely so he adopts a white lab named Zero. He meets another kind of puppy at the rescue and decides to keep him, too.

do the thing, send in all the prompts

Loneliness – a word that could easily be used to describe the feeling that steadily crept up on Tony Stark.

He couldn’t pinpoint when it became a thing. For most of his life, being alone was the goal – with no one around to want things from him, Tony was free to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Building a multi-billion-dollar company up from a structure that Tony didn’t want anything to do with took a lot of time and effort. Simple things like love and affection weren’t really anywhere near his scope.

When getting older started to become apparent, Tony ran from it. He hopped into bed with whatever man looked his way with the right sparkle in his eye. If these people found him to be desirable, did looming near 50 actually mean anything?

The longer he let himself stoop to the lowest of low, the more he realized that men who wanted nothing more than his body weren’t worth the effort it took to get dolled up, go out, entice them, and do the whole song and dance that inevitably led to something quick in the bathroom or a rough fumble in his bed. Waking up alone after that made the emptiness ache a little more.

It became pretty apparent that behavior like that didn’t particularly help, so he reverted back to the lab rat that he truly was and put all of his efforts into the creation of tech and furthering of the projects that were already in the works. If Tony could rely on anything to get him by, it was his brain and the depths that existed within it.

And while that was fulfilling in a professional sense, Tony craved something more. No matter how much he told himself he didn’t need anything or anyone else – the deepest part of his soul called out, his soft bits desperate to take care of another living thing. The grandness of his penthouse that used to bring him so much joy just seemed empty – the multitude of rooms wouldn’t make him happy, that much was for sure.

Rhodey brought up the idea of a pet one night over dinner – he’d been able to step away from his pregnant wife to spend a bit of time eating junk food and playing the latest COD update. Tony didn’t like to admit it, but this time with his best friend was the highlight of his month. The thought of that made his skin crawl slightly – he loved the hell out of Rhodey, he couldn’t deny that. Yet, being completely overjoyed by nothing other than his presence had that pit of loneliness opening up within him a little more.

Listening to him talk, Tony wasn’t put off by it – in fact, having a dog with floppy ears to make a mess around the place might actually be the cure to the melancholy that didn’t want to go away. Tony couldn’t take the blue feeling for much longer – to most people, his life was perfect. Trying to portray that constantly was exhausting and compounded the already shitty feelings that weren’t anywhere close to changing.

The very next day, Tony spent the first part of the day looking up rescues that were open for adoption. His heart started to beat a little faster when he started to scroll through the many adorable little faces of the dogs that were just waiting for someone to come along and take them home. A small white lab puppy caught his eye, the small dog making his decision pretty easy.

Tony took the rest of the day off – he wanted to see about the adoption process and if all things went well, get his new friend home and on the path to adjusting to the good life that he couldn’t wait to provide. Changing out of his suit into a pair of jeans, an old AC/DC shirt, and an open black and red flannel, Tony set out towards Happy Tails, his final destination.

A wave of nerves washed over him when he first walked through the door of the shelter. The smell of cleaner reminded him of the many hospital visits he had over the years, the memories almost enough to send him back through the doors and as far away as possible. Before that could happen, Tony was welcomed by a soft voice – a sense of calmness surrounded him almost immediately. Continuing on his original path, Tony clenched his fist tightly and walked towards the comforting voice.

“Welcome to Happy Tails!” Tony heard again when he got a little closer. Looking up, Tony had to stop himself from gasping – the man behind the counter was the most exquisite being he’d ever seen. Chestnut hair framed sharp cheekbones that were covered with a soft redness that probably sat there enticingly all day. There was the slightest touch of facial hair coating the man’s face, the chin strap he was working on still on the thin side. When they locked eyes, Tony felt himself blush, the wide smile on pink lips knowing and entirely too enticing to actually be real.

Raising a hand like the idiot he actually was, Tony waved at him – his stomach dropping at his stupidity almost instantly. “Uh, hi – “ Tony muttered, his brains attempt to fix the situation failing miserably. The hearty chuckle he was met with was just as sinful as the smile and eyes and cheeks that this man was graced with.

“Hi! Thanks for stopping in. I’m Peter – one of the resident puppy gurus. What can I help you with today?” The man – Peter, said with a wide smile and the most brilliant twinkle in his eye. Tony found himself returning the look without a second thought, his cheeks pinching uncomfortably after a few minutes of the beaming grin taking over his face.

“Puppy guru, huh? You may be exactly who I’m looking for, then. I saw this dog online,” Tony started as he walked closer to the desk Peter stood behind. He showed him the beautiful white lab, the fingers on his phone shaking slightly. “I want to adopt him, if he’s still available.”

“Oh, that’s Zero. He’s one of the newest fellas on the block and is very much available. He’s really chill and likes to sit around a lot for a dog his age. Labs are usually filled with energy. Not Zero – he’s just along for the ride.” Tony listened intently, Peter’s babbling about the dog absolutely adorable. Not to mention the fact that Zero sounded like the best companion – another entity in the house that just wanted to exist.

“Why don’t we got back and meet him? They just got fed, so he’ll be ready for a nice cuddle.” Peter gestured for him to step around the counter and opened the door leading into the kennels, following behind him closely. Tony looked around, his senses overwhelmed by all the sounds and smells that immediately hit him. There were a multitude of dogs in kennels, all shapes and sizes of them, each one looking at him with some sort of look in their eyes.

Peter put a hand on his lower back and pointed towards the end of the hall – “ the puppies have their own hallway.” The hand stayed where it was until Tony was out of the danger zone and in an area that was far less populated. Tony saw Zero before Peter could point him out, the small white lab sat in the middle of its kennel, looking at them curiously.

Tony felt his heart melt a little when Peter opened the kennel and Zero walked right over to him. Crouching down, he put his hand out to be smelt – the wet nose against his skin had him laughing, a huge smile slipping across his face. When the paw shot out to press against his wrist, Tony was a goner. He sat on the floor and let Zero walk into his lap – Tony wrapped his arms around the pup and scratched wholeheartedly up and down his back.

He saw Peter sit down beside him in his peripheral vision, his hands reaching out to run over Zero’s soft fur, too. Tony turned his head to look directly at him, the grin still alive and well on his face. “What do I need to do? I can’t leave here without him,” Tony admitted shamelessly, his chest light in so many ways for the first time in a while.

The smile he got from Peter in response to his question could only be described as breathtaking – the roundness of his cheeks made Tony want to reach out and touch; his entire being ached to see if his skin was really as soft as it looked. He watched Peter slip his tongue out and wet his lips, the other not missing the fact that Tony couldn’t look away. Peter let out a soft breath and kept staring at him.

“The process is pretty easy, honestly.”

And it was – Tony paid the fee and signed the paperwork while Peter ran through Zero’s latest vet visits and the ones that would be necessary in the future. Tony didn’t think to bring a leash, so Peter gave him one hanging behind the desk. “I teach a behavior class on Friday nights. You can bring the leash and Zero back later this week for it,” Peter said confidently, their fingers brushing when the leash exchanged hands.

Nodding, Tony held up the leash in salute. “Whatever you say, puppy guru. Do you happen to have a card? Just in case I have any questions, or anything.” Tony tried to sound innocent, but the smirk that pulled across his face gave him away. It’d been a long time since he tried to get someone’s number – he felt a little rusty.

Peter didn’t miss a beat, however – he pulled a drawer open and de-capped a pen, his hand flying over the card quickly. “That’s my personal. Just in case,” Peter shot back, his fingers pushing the card across the counter.

Tony picked it up before he knelt down to get the leash attached to Zero’s collar – the dog resting heavily against his leg while he did. Petting his head lightly, Tony stood back up and threw Peter one last grin. “Thanks for the help, Peter. We’ll see you Friday.” Tony couldn’t help but smile as Zero started to pull him forward, the dog’s paws slipping on the floor in his haste.

----

After letting Zero explore both the front and back seat of his car, Tony settled into the driver’s seat and set off towards the nearest pet store. He felt a little nervous bringing his brand-new friend into the store – they weren’t used to each other yet. Zero didn’t even bat an eye, though – he followed Tony around the aisles with a wagging tail and minimal barking. Tony held the different toys down for Zero to sniff every now and again, his dog just as indecisive as him.

In the end, they left the store with a whole lot more shit than Tony originally intended. The big bed looked hilarious in the backseat of the small Audi. Zero seemed to like it, though – he curled up on the thing the second Tony started the car. He figured he’d be dealing with an unruly puppy, or overexcited thing that couldn’t control itself. The reality of the situation was even better.

The night went surprisingly well – Tony let Zero take up whatever space he wanted in the penthouse. Peter assured him that he was potty trained, which proved to be correct pretty early on when the dog scratched his leg and looked longingly towards the balcony. He did it again early the next morning, his cold nose pressing against Tony’s cheek more than enough of a wakeup call to get him out of bed, stumbling towards the sliding glass door. The damn dog was too cute, it seemed impossible to hold anything against him.

Physically unable to part himself from Zero, Tony put the brand-new blue collar and tags they got the night before around his neck. The ‘bad to the bone’ leash clipped nicely to it – the whole look totally fitting for the badass little pooch. With Zero completely decked out and identifiable as Tony’s, he felt comfortable enough to leave with the pup for the day.

Tony’s caffeine headache had him pulling into the drive-thru of his favorite café, a smile coming to his face when he got to order a pupachino for the little dog that already owned all the pieces of his malfunctioned heart. Zero climbed up onto his shoulder while they waited in line, so Tony flipped the camera on his phone and took a picture of the two of them. Fumbling around the cupholder he put Peter’s card in, Tony sent the picture in a text – the happiness he felt needed to be shared.

Tony Stark: Look how cute we are. Thanks for hooking us up.

He got a few sips of his coffee in before his phone went off, the number he already typed in as Peter Parker lighting up his screen. Tony shook his head at the giddy feeling spreading through his chest, an old man like him shouldn’t feel as on edge about a cute guy texting him as he did in that moment.

Peter Parker: You two are quite the pair. Peter Parker: It was my pleasure! Glad to have made such a sweet connection.

The soft grin he already associated with Peter stayed on his lips the rest of his drive into the office and even further into the day as the two of them continued to text back and forth. Tony didn’t get much work done – between trying to be as charming as possible in his texts to Peter and loving the fuck out of Zero, there wasn’t much room for anything else.

Predictably, the rest of the week followed suit. Tony couldn’t get enough of the white fur-ball that got more and more comfortable with him as the days passed. Zero stayed by his feet while he was in the lab and followed him around the penthouse when Tony was finished for the night. The mutual appreciation of walks had them wandering around the little neighborhoods Tony never took the time to explore before.

By the time Friday rolled around, Tony was excited to show off his and Zero’s bond – a big part of him thought that Peter would be the most impressed by something like that. In their conversations throughout the week, Tony learned that Peter trained dogs professionally after studying behavior in college. He answered any of Tony’s questions and appreciated all the little anecdotes Tony shared about the short time he’d been enjoying the heck out of Zero.

Walking into the room he was directed to, Tony lit up when Peter noticed him. In a couple of long strides, Peter was right in front of him, his hand already reaching down to press against Zero’s head. “Hey you two! You guys are in luck – it’s a small class, so you’ll get lots of hands on stuff tonight,” Peter caught his eye as he spoke, the smirk on the younger man’s lips making Tony’s throat suddenly very dry.

He nodded his head listlessly, his hand tightening on Zero’s lead. The crush on Peter that he’d been fostering for the past few days doubled in size throughout the next hour. There was one other dog owner and their pup – another puppy adopted from the rescue. Not only was Peter attentive, he knew his shit and didn’t mind explaining things as he went. As someone that put information above almost everything else, Tony liked all things about that.

Zero seemed to like it, too – he showered Peter with affection when he stood talking to Tony at the end of the class. He nosed at Tony’s hand, then pressed against Peter’s leg and licked at his ankles. Tony couldn’t help but grin down at him – the antics already too much.

“I found a local brewery that has a patio that allows dogs – any interest in catching a drink with us?” Tony asked – the conversation had got to the point where they were just staring longingly at each other. It seemed like the perfect time to put himself out there. The grip on Zero’s lead tightened for just a second; he didn’t think he read their interactions wrong, but after so much time away from the dating game, he could never be too sure.

Peter reached out and laid a hand on his arm, the touch the slightest bit reassuring, “I would like that very much. I hope you’re talking about Landry’s – they have the best cheese curds.” He turned his body and started to gather his stuff up like he’d merely been waiting for Tony to buck up the courage to invite him out before getting his shit together. Maybe he was – the idea of that honestly not the worst thing. At least then, he was joined in the intensity of his feelings.

They split up for the few minutes it took them to drive their separate cars to the brewery and met back up at one of the picnic tables closest to the open grass space right next to the building. There were a couple of other dogs milling around the grass – Zero looked over at them curiously, but remained by Tony’s side, his body resting on his feet after a while.

Their view of the sunset was fantastic – they shared a couple orders of cheese curds and truffle fries; Tony liked the way Peter closed his eyes around the bites that were extra indulgent – the redness of his cheeks absolutely divine. The amount of times being caught looking at him probably should have been embarrassing. Yet, Peter simply smiled back and moved his hand a little closer to Tony’s on the table.

It took most of the night for their fingers to finally tangle together – Tony wanted to be sure and enjoyed the build-up to it once he was. Peter’s hands were just as soft as Tony imagined them – his long fingers fit perfectly between his own. They shared a shy smile and sat together until the sky started to rumble a little while later.

Big raindrops suddenly falling on them made the decision to pay the bill and huddle for warmth in Tony’s car easy – Peter climbed into the passenger seat without any restraint. It was obvious that neither man was ready for the night to end.

In hopes of a few seconds to think his next move through, Tony started the car and made sure the vents were open so the car didn’t get too hot. He was startled by a cool hand on his own, Peter’s fingers around his wrist pulling his attention back to where they both wanted it to be.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Peter admitted, his body shifting in the seat. The Audi didn’t have too much space in it, so they were already close. The move of Peter’s shoulders brought them within breath sharing distance. “I like spending time with you.”

Tony didn’t bother trying to find the words to respond appropriately. Without any hesitation, he closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. His hands wandered to the front of Peter’s shirt; the fabric there warm from the heat of his body. A soft moan left Peter’s lips, the sound so encouraging – Peter’s response to it all exactly what Tony was hoping for.

Tilting his head, Tony was about to deepen the kiss when he felt a wet tongue on his cheek. Since his was currently tangled with Peter’s, it could only belong to none other than Zero. He pulled away with a sudden laugh – the excellence of the situation hitting him when Peter beamed at him.

“Better get used to him, Zero. I don’t think he’s going anywhere,” Tony murmured, one of his hands running softly over the puppy’s head.

Peter pulled Tony and Zero towards him, the group hug the sweetest thing Tony figured he’d ever been a part of. The press of lips against his forehead had Tony sighing, his body light for the first time in decades.

The start of something new felt pretty damn good.

#starker #ironspider #puppypeter #bobbie writes #au prompt #struck from a great height

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laylacooke · 4 years

Text

Double Headed Cockasaurces Australian Nymph 2000 || Cordy & Layla

timing: Mid August parties: Cordy [to book an appearance message @kadavernagh] & @laylacooke summary: Layla wants to do something nice for Frankie, but it ends up backfiring big time. warning: Don’t read this at work. :-D

Okay, so Pandora’s Boxxx was probably the last place Layla needed to be. But Frankie would be home soon, or so she thought, and she wanted to surprise her with something fun. The question of what plagued her mind as she wandered up and down the aisles slowly. Seeing everything from toys to dvds, the teenager could feel her cheeks turning redder and redder. Were there some regrets going in? Yes, but she was already there, and she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. No. She was determined. She was an adult. She could do this. It would be a nice treat for Frankie, to show her how much she loved her after everything that had happened within the past couple of months. The ginger haired girl just had to come up with an idea first.

Ugh, when would Annabel get back? Cordy leaned back against the window, kicking her legs up next to the register among the various enchanted sex toys and packets of belly button stickers. She puffed a breath of air out, blowing her long hair away from her face. This wasn’t a bad gig, but it was a slow day, and her fingers were practically sparking with magic that wanted to be used. She heard the bell ring and immediately lowered her legs and leaned forward. Aww, a little redhead. She seemed young. Lost, mayhaps. “Hey there, red! Mime E. Stripes is next door, if you’re looking for a ball pit instead of a ball gag. What can I do ya for? You have a name, cherry? How about fangs, fur, or wings?” Of course, Annabel was still gone. Her aura reading would really come in handy right about now.

The voice from behind the counter caught her attention causing Layla’s cheeks to turn as red as they could get. Of course, the comment about her age didn’t make her feel any better either. She had almost considered ignoring the woman, but she knew that would be rude, “It’s Layla. I was looking for something to surprise my girlfriend with.” She completely ignored the last question. She had made a bad habit of giving out too much information online, so the fact that someone was openly asking her if she was supernatural made her hesitant to respond. With her eyes staying away from the area the woman was in, the redhead continued to peruse the aisle she was in slowly.

Cordy’s mouth ticked up at Layla’s obvious desire to look anywhere but behind the counter. My, she was a bashful one. “What’s wrong? First time in a sex shop?” Cordy called out. With a flick of her finger through the air, she unlatched the gate and walked out from behind the counter, intent on following the girl around. “What’s your gee-eff, then? Human? Oh, come on. You can’t ignore me forever. How else are you gonna pay for your flesh-flavored dental dams?” Cordy sidled over to Layla, smiling. “Lucky for you and your beau, you’re the only customer here right now, which means you have my full attention. So--” She looked down, noting what Layla was wearing. “Are those jorts? Are you that Layla?”

This was like a nightmare. What made her think it was even a good idea to visit a sex shop was beyond her. Her pale skin couldn’t get any redder, but damn was it trying. Is she- Is she coming over- When Layla heard the woman’s voice behind her, she nearly died. And what was worse was how she was grating on the teenager’s nerves. Finally stopping at the mention of her jorts, the redhead turned around, “First, I don’t know you…” She glanced down at the name tag, “Cordy.” What the hell kind of name was Cordy? “Second, I don’t think it’s any of your business what me or my girlfriend are. And lastly…” She crossed her arms and straightened herself up, “These are jorts, and if you’re referring to Jorts 101, I am, indeed, that Layla. Why? You gotta problem with that?”

Cordy hrmphed at the way Layla said her name. So touchy. It was just an honest question. How’d Annabel do this so seamlessly all the time? Customers never seemed to mind when she accosted them with personal questions. “People don’t come to the Boxxx unless their needs are… unique. Wouldn’t want you to bite your girlfriend’s head off and lay eggs inside of her neck, or whatever it is you do. But hey, maybe she’s into that. Is she a zombie? They often have death wishes.” Cordy grinned at Layla and followed her past the lingerie. She always hated those leprechaun-print thongs. Why would anyone wanna wear one of those things? “I knew it! You’re the jorts Layla. Yeah, yeah, I read your presentation, and you missed out on including some key jorts in there.” Cordy squeezed her way between Layla and the aisle’s exit. She pouted as she tried to measure Layla up again. “Are you some kinda jorts demon?”

Bite Frankie’s head off and what now? “What? Ew. Gross. And no. She’s not a zombie.” Layla moved forward trying to get away from Cordy. Pandora’s Boxxx had turned more into Pandora’s Chamber of Being Held Hostage All While Being Questioned About Her Sex Motives and... Jorts. “Key jorts? Seriously? I covered a majority of body types. What were you looking for? A section on Assless Jorts?” She continued to move towards the end of the aisle, until she noticed Cordy was blocking her. Letting out a low growl instinctually, she realized she had probably just given up what she was, but she wasn’t playing now, “No. Those don’t even exist.” Or did they? Layla couldn’t be quite sure with all the new creatures she was discovering in town; like the giant clam that almost tried to eat her or the squirrels that took Ulf’s fingertip.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” Cordy asked with a roll of her eyes. “You aren’t spilling any details. It’s not like I’m asking anything personal.” Zombie, shmombie. Some people just got so uppity. “I’m just trying to do my job, cherry, and you’re not making it easy. But that’s okay, I like a challenge.” Though it sure was helpful when Annabel could just drop the answer on her lap the second someone walked in. Cordy wiggled her fingers, which were tingling with magic and energy. She had a couple tricks up her bell sleeves, too. “Assless jorts would’ve been nice, yeah. You have to cover all of your bases, except the ass. You’re also missing the pinstriped jorts, which are an emerging trend. Can’t believe you neglected them.” Cordy gave her head a small, somber shake. The growl snapped her attention back up. “Oh!” She squeaked. “You a werewolf? Or something a little less boring?”

“I didn’t exactly come in here to spill details. Not those details anyways, and can you move? You do realize it’s super rude to block a customer in an aisle with...what are those…” Layla’s gaze shifted from Cordy to what was sitting on a shelf to the left of her. Eyes growing wider, she could feel her cheeks growing red, “Is that...is that a two headed penis?” Her voice dropped a few octaves. What. The. Actual. Fuck? “Okay, nope. I came in here for something to surprise my girlfriend. Not to see the rare double headed cockasaurces of doom. Nope. Nooooope. Fuck this place.” She turned back to Cordy, and instead of asking her to move, pushed the woman out of the way with more force than she had anticipated. Damn werewolf strength. She had made a huge mistake and just wanted to leave. The jorts argument was the last thing on her mind at this very moment.

“What, you’ve never seen one of those before? Some Australian nymphs requested--” Cordy was cut off by Layla’s continued noping. Man, she really needed to chill for a second. The Boxxx wasn’t the place to be such a wet blanket. Cordy could practically feel Layla’s anger and frustration boiling toward the surface, and she realized too late that she was in its direct path. Layla gave her a violent push, and Cordy fell toward the floor, only catching herself at the last second by focusing the magic that’d been pulsing between her fingers. She propelled herself upward enough to catch her balance, her magic crackling now. “Did you just shove me?” She yelled, indignant. “I was just trying to lend a hand to you and your girl, but fine, if you’re gonna be so catty.” Now, there was an idea. Cordy smirked at the thought. It wouldn’t be easy, and it’d been a while since she’d pulled off something so hilarious, but sometimes people just needed a good ol’ hex to get their head on straight.

Cordy reached within herself, focusing on the annoyance balled in her gut, ma’s voice loud in her ears. Use your words. Ma had always worked with incantations when she hexed and cursed people, but Cordy found that distracting, preferring mediation over all that chanting and waxing poetic. She closed her eyes, picturing that Australian nymph dildo and exactly what she wanted with clarity. She focused on her annoyance, her rage, the satisfaction at revenge exacted. The magic surged out of her, flowing into the dildo like river rapids, and it flew off the shelf, smacking right into Layla’s snarling face.

Layla knew that when she saw the woman catch herself, with what could only be magic, she was fucked. Her eyes grew wide as she slowly started stepping backwards looking for an escape route, “Look, I didn’t mean for that to happen, okay? My anger...sometimes I can’t control myself. A-Are you okay?” The redhead continued to look around for something she could buy that would work as an apology. Nothing too expensive, like a nearby...Butt Plug With A Tail? Are Furries seriously a thing here? “Um, hey, you guys do realize that a good portion of the people living here already have tails, right?” Her laugh was uneasy and nervous. This woman was mad, and there was no telling what kind of power she held. Of course, before Layla could say anything else, she felt that power. The double headed cockasaurces Australian Nymph 2000, or whatever the fuck it was called, had smacked her square in the face with enough force to knock her to the floor.

Moaning, she slowly opened her eyes feeling a weird energy racing through her body. Her head was throbbing and as she rubbed her face, she felt a small amount of blood coming from her nose, “What did you do to me? Did you just break my nose with a flying dick?” She slowly sat upright feeling dizzy. Layla had never imagined in a million years, she’d be smacked in the face with a double headed penis, but here she was.

Climbing to her feet with the assistance of the shelf right next to her, Layla rubbed her head. She had already felt regret for the way she had acted, but also confusion from the whole situation, and without saying anything else to Cordy, found her way to the front door and left.

#para: double headed cockasaurces australian nymph 2000 #para: cordy #wickedsmature #wickedswriting #saga: a little catty

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67-chevy-baby · 4 years

Text

Cradle Our Desire

Pairing - Jensen x Reader

Tags - Angst, Language, Implied Smut, Mentions of blood, Vampires, Use of knives, Death, Confessions of love, kissing, and I think that’s it. Let me know if I missed something, and I will tag it. :)

Word Count - 1,889

Beta - @winecatsandpizza

Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly

The Song I Chose - Drowning by Radio Company

Written for - @saxxxology’s Vol 1 Writing Challenge

A/N - There may be a part 2 to this. :) I haven’t decided. Also, I haven’t written in a while due to mental health issues, so please go easy on me... I’m sorry if this sucks.

“That’s a wrap on Y/N!”

You’d been waiting all day for those five words, no matter how bittersweet they’d be to hear. Immediately, you closed your eyes and released a shaky breath. The emotions of the scene you just acted out still played over and over in your mind as you headed towards your trailer.

It’s not your trailer anymore … not after today. That single thought lingered in your head for a few moments as you willed yourself to keep your tears at bay. As soon as you climbed the stairs and shut the door, your body gave way and you slid down the wall. The tears you tried so hard to hide finally flowed freely down your cheeks. One of your hands covered your mouth just as you let out a choked sob.

You knew this day would come. Even the greatest of TV shows couldn’t last forever, and fifteen years was a long time. You’d been a series regular ever since season ten, and it was an honor to work alongside two of the greatest actors of your generation. Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles were phenomenal actors on screen and the most humble of men off-screen. You’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t miss them.

Your character in the show, Taygen, was a rogue hunter who was working on killing a nest of vampires when she met the brothers. The three of you took care of the vamps and the rest was history. Together you worked like a fine-tuned machine and as much as you hated the thought, it was time to say goodbye to her.

Of course, you knew she wouldn’t go down without a fight. No, Tay wasn’t the kind to stand on the sidelines. She would fight until her last breath to protect the ones she loved, and that’s exactly what she did. The tears kept flowing as your mind drifted to how your final scene played out.

The pounding of your footfalls echoed through the abandoned warehouse, your hand-crafted knife in your left hand ready to strike. Skidding to a halt, you pressed yourself against the wall to listen for any signs of movement. Sam and Dean had decided that the three of you should split up to cover more ground. You knew they could handle themselves, but something about this hunt just felt … off.

A loud crash came from the floor above you, and Dean’s yells reverberated off the walls. Panic pricked your skin as you ran as fast as you could up the stairs. Nothing mattered anymore. Not your surroundings, not the vampires, not even God himself could stop you from getting to where Dean was.

The bottom of your combat boot collided with the rotting wood of the door sending it flying into the room. Dean laid motionless on the floor, one of the vamps hovering over him ready to rip his throat out.

“Hey! Asshole! Get your filthy hands off him!” The monster turned and narrowed its eyes, its hungry glare turning lethal in an instant before lunging at you. The blade of your knife slashed at the vampire’s chest while your free hand blocked its punches. Just as you were about to finish it off, Dean groaned in pain making you lose focus. “Unngh … Taygen?” The monster knocked your blade from your hand and tossed you into the wall across the room.

You hit the ground with a sickening thud. Weakly, you pushed yourself up in time to see the vampire turn it’s attention back to the elder Winchester. You knew your ankle was probably broken, but all you could think about was saving Dean. He’d trained you, stayed up with you on nights that you couldn’t sleep, and he’d saved you numerous times when you’d been too reckless. Not to mention that you’d been in love with him since the night you met him and his brother.

Ignoring the shooting pain in your ankle, you threw your body in front of Dean to shield him from the fatal strike of the Vampire’s razor-sharp teeth. You let out a blood-curdling scream as its fangs pierced the skin of your neck. Even though the monster wasn’t on you for more than a few seconds, the damage was already done. Sam heard your scream and came to yours and Dean’s aid, beheading the vampire with one swipe of his blade.

Everything felt sluggish around you. The shouts of both the brothers seemed far away as they surrounded you. Dean cursed loudly as Sam ran to get the Impala. “Dammit, Tay! How many times am I gonna have to tell you not to be so reckless!” Your shaky hand came up to rest on his cheek as he held you, your eyes sparkling with tears. “D-Dean … I ... “ He shook his head and swallowed thickly. “Shh, don’t talk sweetheart. Sammy’s goin’ to get the car, and then we’ll take care of you. Cas will heal your ankle, and we’ll get that gash in your neck fixed up in no time.”

A lone tear slid down your cheek as you tried to desperately memorize every feature of Dean’s face. His piercing green eyes, those smooth lips, and the collection of freckles scattered all over his flawless skin. “Dean, listen to m-me … I‘m not missin’ my ch-chance to tell you this.” You winced as another stabbing pain shot through your body. “I…” The taste of blood filled your mouth as your vision clouded. You knew you weren’t going to make it out of this alive. “... Love y-you …”

It had taken you months to prepare for that scene. Being killed off wasn’t the problem, no it was the fact that your character had to finally tell Jensen’s character how she felt. Normally, something like this wouldn’t even phase you. Having a character fall in love with another came as part of the job description, and the actors and actresses who portrayed said characters knew how to separate that from real life. The reason all of this was so hard for you was because your character wasn’t the only one in love.

Once you finally found the strength to get off the floor of your trailer you walked to where your bedroom was and grabbed a pen out of the cup on your nightstand. Whenever your emotions got the better of you, writing in your journal would always help calm you down. Earlier, you’d started an entry about today’s scene, and you wanted to finish it. You opened the top drawer of your dresser and felt your heart drop to your stomach. It was gone. Your journal was gone. Quickly, you racked your brain and remembered you’d brought it with you to set. You’d been writing in it while sitting in the Bunker’s library as you watched Jared and Jensen do a few takes before your final scene. How could you have been so stupid? There was no telling who’d get their hands on it and see all the things you’ve kept secret for so long.

You tore across the trailer lot as fast as you could towards the set and came to a stop at the Bunker’s entrance. Calmly and quietly you descended the staircase and navigated to the library. All the color drained from your face when your eyes landed on Jensen. He was sitting there intently reading what had to be your latest journal entry. He looked up at you, his face unreadable as his gaze bore into your own.

“Jay… I… I can explain! I…” He stood and walked towards you, the emotion in his eyes just as intense as they were when Taygen had taken her last breath in Dean’s arms. “Is it true? This...this passage you wrote about me?” You couldn’t look at him anymore, the chipped polish on your nails became your focus as you tried to make your brain form words. “Wh-What are you talking about?” His brow furrowed as he pointed to the page he’d been holding. You stood there frozen as he began to read the very entry you’d hoped he’d never see.

“Today’s the day … the day I complete my run on the greatest TV show. Not only do I have to say goodbye to Supernatural, but I have to live with not seeing the love of my life every day. Jensen doesn’t know it, but he’s the reason I can still hold my head above water in this line of work. Without him, I’d surely be drowning by now. He can never know how I feel. I can never tell him. I can’t risk my feelings not being reciprocated…”

By the time he was done reading your vision was blurred by your tears. How could you have been so careless? Jensen approached your shaking form and used his index and middle fingers to raise your chin so you were looking into his eyes. “Tell me Y/N, I have to know if this is truly how you feel.” There was no going back. There was no way to get out of this, and you felt yourself slip into fight or flight mode. “Why?! Why does it matter, Jensen? S’not like you’ll ever feel the same way about me! I’m just… just an average girl from the midwest who’s own family disowned her after she refused to follow in their footsteps and do what made me happy. You’ve got everything going for you! You’re fucking perfect in every way, and could have any woman on this planet! You’ve already read my feelings so why torture me and make me say what you already know?!”

Your chest heaved as he looked down at you. His eyes never wavering from your own. The silence around the two of you only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. “You’re not very observant are you, Y/N?” His smirk only angered you more. “What the fuck are you talking about? So, you find out how I feel and the humiliation isn’t enough for you? You gotta insult me too?! Just forget it! I’m leaving with the little dignity I have left!” You ripped your journal from his hand and started towards the staircase, but before you could get to the landing Jensen had you pressed against the wall.

“Dammit Y/N, just who exactly do you take me for? You think I would hurt someone I love on purpose like that?! Jesus, you’re just as stubborn as Taygen…” You struggled in his hold but stopped the instant his words hit you. He … loved you? Your eyes snapped up to meet his intense gaze, the silent question being answered. “Yes Y/N, I love you. I’ve loved you for a while, but I always thought you didn’t feel the same.” His fingers grazed your cheek and you leaned into it. The anger you felt left your body instantly as he slowly leaned in. “I’m sorry it took so long, but from this moment on, I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me.”

His kiss sent sparks through your body, igniting a fire you’d never known about until now. His lips never left your skin as he carried you down the Bunker’s hallway, the promises he’d made to you moments before burned in the wake of each kiss he gave.

#saxxxology vol 1 writing challenge #jensen ackles x reader #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #castiel #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural #'pala writes

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miazeklos · 5 years

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I can’t believe that over two months down the line this is still a conversation being had, but jfc, no, the Jon/Dany murder scene was not a revamped Cersei/Jaime scene, it was specifically meant for them, the show was never going to do the same thing with Jaime and Cersei and I’m so dаmn tired of seeing the exact same bitter post three times a day in tags where it doesn’t belong. I love Dany and I get the frustration but it just makes absolutely no sense at all and even if it’s hard to give it a single logical thought, just... give it at a try.

This rant is also the perfect excuse to write a post I’ve wanted to write for ages, namely, the way Daenerys and Cersei are presented as acting Queens, so this is what I’ll proceed to do. Warning: it’s long. Please bear with me.

Cersei and Dany being portrayed the way they were towards the end was set up since the beginning of s7 at least. In a lot of instances, it’s really blatant.

Tyrion saying that Cersei would cling to Casterly Rock for the sake of it and that Dany’s armies would prevail because they fight for a cause and that being the voiceover to their victory, only for it to turn out that the vast majority of Cersei’s army isn’t even there (this whole sequence was directed in a way that almost felt like mockery, to be honest). Conversations about what a tyrant she is followed by scenes of the people cheering as her enemies are dragged in chains through the city. Cersei asking for the North’s neutrality while Dany insisted on them bending the knee. The fact that the most powerful of Dany’s Westerosi allies (Dorne and the Reach) had joined her mainly on a ‘fuсk the Lannisters and Cersei specifically’ basis. Cersei sparing Tyrion’s life twice when you take into account that D&D take Daenerys’s reaction to her brother’s death as the earliest sign of something being wrong (which is a whole other can of meta, to be opened in a later post). When Dany speaks about returning things to dust, that’s what she does; when Cersei speaks about burning cities to the ground, she still only punishes the two specific people responsible for her daughter’s death.

Неll, there’s even Tyrion admitting that the only difference between them is that Dany has people to rein in her worst impulses, which is why she won’t burn King’s Landing. This is what Dany is being talked out of - killing large masses of people - while Jaime mainly talks Cersei out of choices that would end up killing her (like attacking the North in Winter and ignoring the AOTD). The unspoken implication here is that the former isn’t an impulse that Cersei needs to be held back from... because she doesn’t have it.

Cersei wouldn’t have ever burned the city because her politics were far more focused on ‘if the people leave me alone and don’t hurt me or my family in any way, I’ll also leave them alone’ than ‘they’ll have died for a good reason if it comes to that’, because in her eyes, the biggest upside to her position of power is everyone letting her live and that’s it. She did her duties after being crowned and, even if she was doing it for personal gain, let her people into the safest place in the city during the invasion. No one who actually lived under her rule seemed particularly displeased with her as a Queen and she was never going to go on a random killing spree because she’s never shown any signs of being into slаughtеr for a greater cause, even if that cause is remaining on the Throne.

(The only reason the Sept explosion happened was because she was backed into a corner from every possible direction and facing a trial she could not win (yeah, remember how she wanted a trial by combat and that could have been the end of it? Good times.) and she burned one (1) building to eliminate everyone who was a direct threat for her specifically. It did cause more damage than that, of course, but there is... a significant difference between a building and a few city blocks because there’s no other way to save your skin and the whole city because they’re supposedly traitors.)

If the writers wanted to make a point of Cersei being worse, they wouldn’t have made her anti-Daenerys campaign and propaganda come true literally two episodes after she started planting it (her armies will kill your sons and her dragons will burn your food, she said, and what happened?). They wouldn’t have given Dany the ‘I know Cersei told you I’d burn your shit and destroy your houses if you don’t obey, but it’s not true. Oh, you still support her? Okay, die.’ scene. They wouldn’t have made the Tarlys do what they did to begin with and they certainly wouldn’t have made Dany arrange Field of Fire 2.0 for no good reason (this was literally food for the city she wanted to take and rule over in the near future. Starving the people isn’t the same as starving out the royal family because even during famine, the Queen would literally be the last person to starve. That’s siege 101. She did it because she was frustrated by Tyrion’s constant deflection of anything that could hurt his siblings. That’s in the text; she essentially says it herself).

Cersei at no point said that she wanted to destroy the city so that Daenerys couldn’t have it. She said she wanted to die fighting (perfectly in character) and then took it back like a week later and decided to go for a truce when she realised she was pregnant and had something to lose (also in character). The sudden change was empathised upon enough that it was a perfectly logical choice to have her ring the bells when she realised there was no way out. There was nothing spontaneous or illogical that she did in her time as a Queen; all her actions made perfect sense for the position she was in. As I’ve said time and time again, being ruthless and killing people in war/revenge does not, in any way, equal madness or even a start on the road to it. If there was ever a Mad Queen on the show (highly debatable, but that’s a topic for another post), it was certainly not her.

Back in s7, these instances above were all meant to be ‘hey, wait a minute’ moments and they were never leading to Jaime killing Cersei because she was never going to go mad out of nowhere (no, not even if she’d had a miscarriage. The most logical course of action for that timeline would have been her going back to the ‘fight and die’ scenario and I’ve at one point already talked about why that would have been a highly unsatisfying death for her as a character).

I’ve even read accusations that the whole script of the Jon/Dany scene was meant for them, which is straight up laughable because if Cersei ever started talking to Jaime about building a new better world, all he would have (rightfully) accused her of would have been letting Euron hook her on his drug habit. She literally said in 7x07, loud and clear, that she doesn’t give a fuсk about the world and what she wants from it is safety for her and her family. Power was a great bonus, to be sure, seeing as she’d always wanted it, but she gave it up when it was that or death, and she always would have. All her most powerful decisions have stemmed from the desire to protect herself and 'those who matter’ (or, in the case of Blackwater - another early example! - making sure that the end is as painless as possible), which Jaime understood (he and Tyrion talked about it while he was captured), even when he felt betrayed by her decisions. Show-wise, their story was never leading to any kind of spiteful murdеr-suiсidе situation, especially not for the greater good. It makes no sense with the way they’ve been written ever since the start and their character arcs through the seasons. It certainly makes a lot less sense than it does for Jon and Dany’s situation in 8x06. It could have been developed more, yes; it could have dived right into the weight of what he does instead of skirting around it for the rest of the episode, but that doesn’t mean it actually wasn’t meant for them to begin with.

TL;DR: Whatever you think of the characterisation in Jon and Dany’s last scene, it was always theirs and theirs alone, sorry. Jaime and Cersei, especially on the show, have absolutely nothing to do with it.

#Cersei Lannister #Daenerys Targaryen #Jaime Lannister #Jon Snow #game of thrones #got #rant #this has been building up for A While #in case you couldn't tell #and it needed an outlet #like #I get not liking the direction the show took #that's your right #but do I have to see this nonsensical theory #every single day in every single tag #enough #discourse #sorta

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theladylovingcrow · 4 years

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The Most Beautiful Distraction (Sanny)

💋 SMUT 💋

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover - Rockfic, luluthechoosingcrow- AO3, theladylovingcrow - Wattpad and Deviantart, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @theladylovingcrow writing/art Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram

Fandom: Greta Van Fleet

Pairing: Danny Wagner/Sam Kiszka (Sanny)

Length: about 3.7k

Warnings/Tags: tenderness, hurt/comfort, smut (French kissing, blow jobs, anal sex, riding, couch sex, slight D/S, dirty talking, tender sex with all of this thrown in)

Summary: ""Wanna ride you," Sam sighed, admission joining the swirl of colors in the air around them; burgundy kisses, blue touches, bright electric flashes of pain subdued by delicate green affection and care. Danny ached for him - the fiery burn in his stomach overcoming the duller waves from his burned hands."

Author's Notes: I practically have a personal cheerleader in @satans-helper and it's.... just so, so nice. Thank you, darling, for all of the incredible feedback, compliments, encouragement, and for being my friend. This is for you :) Also, I recommend her work so hard, it's amazing

@satans-helper @oblvions @ryetheruler @lantern-inthenight @lazingonsunday @mountainofthesunn @karrotkate @teastainedpaper @okietrish @bigthighsandstupidguys

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"No no no - stop it. The more you do with them the more it'll hurt, you know that," Sam scolded softly, taking Danny's bandaged hands in his and slowly removing the bottle of ointment from them.

Danny scowled and let Sam set the gel aside; he was a bit annoyed with Sam's diligent attentiveness to his injury. It was so sweet and endearing how much Sam cared for him - and he really, really appreciated it - but Danny couldn't stand being prevented from doing anything for himself, so he got cranky, sometimes.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't like it."

"I hate it. But, I guess I'm not really mad at you. I'm just so freaking frustrated! I can't do anything!"

"I know, I know, I hate it, too," Sam cooed, gently massaging his wrists and forearms where his skin was bared in between the linen wrappings. "I hate seeing you hurt, but you need to let it heal some more before you use your hands or it'll damage them more."

Danny nodded again and sighed, resting his head on Sam's shoulder. Sam held him close, petting his hair and shuffling further towards Danny on the couch.

After nearly five minutes of Danny sniffling quietly into his neck, Sam gently pushed him back on the couch cushions. He ignored Danny's confused expression and swung a leg over his, situating himself so that he was straddling Danny's lap.

Danny looked relieved. He loved to cuddle and hold onto Sam, they both knew it, but it was incredibly hard for him to ask for. Usually, he would grab at Sam's waist and pull him on top of himself, but currently.... Sam had taken it upon himself to fulfil that desire Danny wasn't able to verbalize, and he was grateful for that.

"Here, let me," Sam said, lifting up one of Danny's hands from his thighs and carefully unwrapping the bandage.

Danny hissed when the cloth was removed from his burned skin, small fibers snagging minutely before letting go. Sam apologized quietly and dropped the dirty bandage onto the floor.

"Sammy, gonna gave to clean that up. You know not to litter," Danny teased, looking up at Sam's concentrated face and trying to block out the pain.

"It's not litter in my own house, now try to hold still."

Danny clenched the muscles in his body, from his shoulders down to his toes, when Sam swiped the special disinfectant the doctor had given him over the damaged area.

His entire torso ached, even though the wounds were only on his hands and partially up his forearms. The accident - a grease fire while trying to cook up some Bratwurst and veggies for dinner - had happened a little over a week ago, in the Kiszka kitchen. Kelly and the twins had worked on putting it out while Karen immediately plunged his singed hands into cold water, Sam standing by, worried, trying to soothe Danny whilst panicking himself.

When the smoke had cleared, Danny's whimpering had told them that the burns were worse than they had hoped. Sam drove them to the hospital, one hand on Danny's knee the entire time. Danny wasn't sure how he had made it through the entire time without crying, but he figured that Sam's grounding touch, and the ice Kelly had wrapped around his hands, had helped a lot.

The doctor, once they had finally made it through the E.R. waitlist, had cleaned and treated the burns, given him some painkillers, and a prescription for some healing gel that he was supposed to put on twice a day after disinfecting with another cream. And, Danny wasn't allowed to use his hands for anything uneccesary - basically everything, including drumming, the doctor and Sam had both said - for three weeks.

Danny insisted that wiping himself was absolutely necessary, but, other than that, Sam was with him every second of the day to do *everything* else. He fed him, got him dressed, drove them around - though he already did that, generally - put on the record he wanted and even got in the bath with him every other day.

Sam unscrewed the bottle and swiped his fingers into it, getting a glob of healing gel. He smeared it over Danny's wounds, as gently as possible, making him sigh at the relieving cold and slight numbness from the low level steroids in it.

Sam finished treating one hand, bringing it up to his mouth and softly skimming his lips over Danny's burnt knuckles. He rewrapped it in clean bandages and picked up the other hand, going through the same process.

"There, all done. Looks like they're healing right on time," Sam said, looking pleased. It was because of his care - whether it occasionally annoyed Danny or not - that Danny's burns were finally going through the healing process.

"Thank you," Danny said quietly.

He used his forearms to put pressure on either side of Sam's waist, bringing him in closer. Sam smiled, chucking the medical supplies to the other end of the couch and going where Danny directed him; moving his hips forward until he was right above Danny's pelvis, arms around his neck, chests pressed together.

"Danny," Sam sighed, rolling his whole body in a languid rhythm, gauging his mate's interest. "How's your pain level?"

"Mmm, I could use a distraction."

Danny had his face buried in Sam's shoulder, speaking against his soft skin. He used his nose to nuzzle into Sam's neck at the base, pushing aside his shirt and running over the silky skin that was revealed.

Inhaling Sam's unique pine-weed-lavender-musk scent, Danny took a soft bite at his shoulder. He scraped his teeth over the fine bone of Sam's shoulder, nipping occasionally, then chose a spot near his bicep and increased his pressure, gently sinking his teeth into the skin and flesh. He suctioned his lips around the spot, bringing blood to the surface and increasing the pleasure-pain sensations, making Sam moan right above his ear.

Usually, when they did this -

those quiet moments when they found the time to be alone and the courage to be completely open - Danny's hands were all over Sam: stroking his hair, running over his lips, squeezing his ass, and reverently touching his skin. Now, he wasn't even able to unfurl his fists to really hold onto Sam, could only wrap his arms around his waist and let his hands dangle behind them.

Danny's fists clenched painfully, wanting so bad to grab at Sam, run his hands up and down his narrow body and over his rocking hips. Instead, he shoved his hips up, pressing his growing erection against Sam's ass, and decorated his neck with kisses and hickeys - feeling the textures of his skin with the nerve receptors in his lips rather than his fingertips.

Sam was moaning at the back of his throat, vibrations tantalizing against Danny's cheek. He clutched at the back of Danny's head, holding him close and threading his fingers through Danny's thick hair.

"Yes, love me. Focus on me, let me distract you. Let me love you," he sighed, rocking his covered cock into Danny's stomach.

Danny whined, closing his eyes and swiping his tongue over Sam's adam's apple, tasting his sweet sweat. He moved his hips faster, following Sam's rhythm, nerves alighting at the deliberate pressure Sam was putting on him with every downwards thrust of his pelvis.

"Wanna ride you," Sam sighed, admission joining the swirl of colors in the air around them; burgundy kisses, blue touches, bright electric flashes of pain subdued by delicate green affection and care. Danny ached for him - the fiery burn in his stomach overcoming the duller waves from his burned hands.

"Please, Sammy, want you to," he breathed, desperate and high in his throat.

Sam cupped his face, running his callused thumbs over Danny's cheekbones and pressing their lips together with passionate force. He kept the control, and Danny let him; Sam's tongue traced the inside of his mouth like he had built it himself and knew every part - no tentative exploring necessary.

Danny's dick lurched, loving Sam's dominance in the situation. He knew that everything he needed would be taken care of, and then some; his mate would guide them both to a more than satisfying release. And, the journey there - the building, dripping, undulating, passionate love making - would be sweeter than ever, because it was with Sam.

His best-friend-now-also-lover sighed Danny's name, throwing his head back, long hair tickling Danny's hands resting on his back. Sam kept their hips together, rhythm still going, but pulled his heaving torso away from Danny's wandering mouth. He reached down and gripped the hem of his shirt, slowly raising it over his head and tossing it aside.

Danny's mouth was immediately on Sam's chest, licking over the smooth skin and flicking his little brown nipples with his tongue. He moaned against Sam, trailing scalding kisses in between his pecs and down his abdomen, contorting his back to nuzzle into Sam's navel and the sparse hairs right below it.

Sam shuffled around a bit, getting his knees firmly planted on the couch either side of Danny and raising himself up, giving more access. Danny flicked his eyes up to Sam's face, grinning excitedly, and laved his tongue over Sam's sharp hip bones.

Keeping one hand in Danny's hair, Sam used the other to reach past the waistband of his pajama pants. He wrapped his fist around the hard flesh inside, bringing it out for Danny's mouth to love.

Love he did: suck and trace and lick and slobber and moan - Danny gave Sam the best he could, employing all of the tricks he had learned over the course of their physical relationship.

Sam groaned, long and low, when Danny carefully covered his teeth and worked his way down Sam's shaft, moving up and down, descending centimeter by centimeter until his nose nearly brushed Sam's pubes. He clenched the muscles in his ass tightly, trying hard not to thrust and choke his lover.

Danny pulled off with an obscene slurp. "You can move, it's okay. Just be slow," he gasped, throat rough and already going back in for more.

Sam nodded, whimpered, putting both hands on Danny's broad shoulders and thrusting his hips in shallow waves, easing into the rhythm Danny had going. He moved a bit faster when Danny pulsated his tongue along the vein under his cock, purposefully spurring Sam on through his actions.

"Ugnnn... Danny! Danny, baby, gotta stop. I wanna come while you fuck me."

Sam had to physically pry Danny away from his dick, much to his amusement. He knew that, once he was situated with all of that hard, impressive heat tucked up inside him, Danny would want to him cum that way, too. But he was distracted now, so enraptured with Sam that he was focusing solely on his pleasure.

"Seriously, dude, let go." Danny backed away, pouting like Sam had just yanked a treat from his mouth - he had, technically. "Wanna come *with* you, it'll be better for both of us to build it up."

Danny nodded, seeing the logic, and kissed at Sam's chest again. Sam ran his hands down Danny's arms to the edges of the bandages and back up again. He lowered himself back onto Danny's lap, grinding his exposed dick against the fabric covering Danny's hard stomach.

"Mmm, c'mon, let's get this off of you."

Sam raised the hem of Danny's tee shirt, helping him take it off like he had been every night - and some afternoons and mornings, like now, when the mood to admire him struck. Immediately, his hands were back to explore all of Danny's warm, tanned skin, fingernails lightly scratching shivery trails.

Suddenly, Danny bucked his hips extra hard, nearly knocking Sam off of him; he got the message. Sam stood up, quickly pulling his pants the rest of the way off, stopping only a few moments to let Danny look at him hungrily before he dived for his crotch.

Sam squeezed the erection trapped in Danny's leggings - gotten from the Macy's clearance section because his sister found a good deal - working his fingers around it's length and in between his thighs to tickle at Danny's balls.

"Please, baby," Danny groaned, spreading his legs wider and moving his hips in desperate circles, eyes heavy lidded as he watched Sam on his knees before him.

"Please, what? I'll take care of you, always, but I need to know what to do," Sam said, smirking.

Danny moaned again and raised his arms, then let them flop back down on the couch, burns and bandages rendering his hands useless.

After a few pitiful looks from Danny and some deliberate strokes from Sam, he finally whined, "Please take my cock out. Please, please ride me."

Sam grinned at him, pleased, and placed a kiss on his sweaty stomach, right above the elastic waistband. He yanked the leggings down in one quick move, with the help of Danny's raised butt off the couch.

"Lube, we need lube!" Danny said, looking almost frantic.

Sam reached over to the small pile of medical supplies a cushion away and came back with a bottle of premium sexual lubricant, waving it above his head with a little flourish.

"Did you plan this?" Danny laughed, raising a thick brow at Sam's smug expression.

"I figured you'd be in a lot of pain, and that you might want a distraction... are you saying I should have left it upstairs where I would have had to go get it?"

"No, no, it was a great plan. This is good- *so* good," Danny assured, throwing his head onto the back of the couch when Sam stroked him with a slick fist.

Sam gave him a few more pumps, squeezing his balls for good measure, then removed his hand from Danny's junk. He moved to straddle Danny again, generously lubing up two of his right-hand fingers and bringing them behind himself, leaning on Danny for support.

His best friend was gazing up at him, love and lust and happiness all swirling in his hazel eyes. Danny mirrored Sam's expression when he pressed his first finger inside of himself, mouth open and eyes fluttering at the sensation.

Sam worked his finger in all the way, concentrating on relaxing and enjoying the stretch, and the knowledge of what was to come. He pumped it in and out, then brought his hand back up for more lube before carefully working his second finger inside.

"I can't wait to ride you. I like to do this - and I know you like watching me - but having your dick inside of me is the best. Gonna make me cum so hard, baby."

Sam used his other hand to cup Danny's chin, bringing their mouths together in a fierce kiss. He bit at Danny's bottom lip, and Danny then sucked on his, wet tongues meeting again and again in the midst of a battle for dominance. Danny let Sam win, he knew, for it was what they both needed at the moment. Sam would take care of him, like he had promised. Always.

"I'm adding another. Ugh, so close, honey, gonna line you up and sit down; ride you until you cum inside me. Will you- cum in me?" Sam asked, hips bucking into air when his third finger brushed at his prostate.

He locked eyes with Danny as he pumped and stretched himself - though his mate had only the noises and Sam's face to discern what was happening back there - and found his soul staring right back at him. Danny surged forward to kiss him; frantic, nearly, all over his mouth and chin, down his neck, back up to his ear.

Danny squared his feet on the carpet, getting good grounding to rub himself all over Sam while his lover prepped himself over his lap. His dick nudged at Sam's balls, the base of his own cock, his thighs, building up a teasing friction to ready him for the main event.

Sam breathed out, slow and steady, as he added his pinky. Four fingers - in and out, spread and stretch, twist the wrist and get a shock of electric pleasure. He kissed Danny's temple, excited for what was coming - it was exhilarating whenever they got to be together, no matter how many times it happened.

"Are you ready, babe? I'm so ready for you," he sighed, removing his fingers.

"Yes, Sammy, yes," Danny hissed when he poured more lube onto his cock, slicking it all over.

Sam raised up on his knees again, reaching under himself to grab Danny and guide him back to his hole. He closed his eyes and moaned freely, always enjoying the first breach, when he got Danny in place and started sinking down.

Danny was panting, knowing by now to keep himself still as possible while Sam adjusted at his own pace. It was hard, though; Sam was so incredibly sexy on top of him, in charge, caring for the both of them and taking what he wanted.

They moaned as one when Sam got halfway down, pausing to breathe and grin at each other. Sam squeezed Danny's shoulder, leaning down to kiss him tenderly, and Danny wrapped his arms tighter around Sam's waist, holding him snug to his chest.

The slide down started again, Sam whimpering quietly when he felt Danny's sack against his ass. They were connected, now - physically, pleasingly tangible to his nerves lighting up like a string of lights along his spine.

"Holy shit- fuuuck!" Danny groaned when Sam slowly clenched around him, then rocked in his lap a little bit.

"Feel that, honey? That's you, and that's me. I'm gonna ride you now, hold on," Sam grinned, feral, raising his hips and sitting back down in a sharp movement.

Danny was breathing harshly through his nose, thrusting up to meet Sam with his thighs. His eyes followed his lover's every twitch - the moans, the flutter of lashes, his sweet mouth open and panting Danny's name - and he obeyed every command they silently gave him. When Sam lurched forward and squeezed his shoulders, Danny made sure to keep his hips angled in the same way. When he whimpered and threw his head back, long column of his throat basked in afternoon sunlight, Danny kissed it and whispered in his ear as he sped up.

"Ohh, Sammy. So good, you feel so good, I love you. Thank you, thank you!"

"Don't, don't thank me, this is what I wanted," Sam whispered, tipping his head forward again to pant into Danny's ear. "We share this, like everything else, and we cum together, baby. C'mon, make me cum, Daniel."

Sam nibbled at the shell of Danny's ear, then tongued at his lobe, tasting the metallic tang of his earrings. His lips moved across Danny's cheekbones and kissed at the bridge of his nose, tender affection and sexual passion mixing as he rode harder.

Danny sobbed into his shoulder, hugging Sam close to him, desperately kissing any skin that he could reach. One of Sam's hands was scratching at his broad back, and the other was inbetween them, jerking himself off.

Sam could barely catch his breath with how hard he was working to get them both to a release. His thighs were burning, and he made sure to clench the muscles in his ass every time he sat down, wringing the orgasm out of Danny.

"Mmmmm, ohhh Sammy," Danny sighed, always quieter when he came than during the actual sex.

"Yes, baby, like that. Oh, fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, too!"

Grinding his hips in tight circles to stimulate his prostate, panting and moaning like a madman, Sam came on top of Danny, soaking the space in between them. He clenched spasmadically around Danny's cock, making his lover groan as both of their orgasms kept going longer than they usually would of if Sam hadn't been at the helm - he liked to draw it out and make Danny beg just a bit more.

"Okay, okay, I'm so distracted I'm gonna be in pain again. Stop, Sammy, I'm done."

Sam chuckled as he lifted himself off of Danny and let him slip out, a trickle of cum going with him. He sat back down on Danny's thighs, grinning at him and petting his chest and shoulders.

"Sorry, that was just so good. You know how to work me so well," he said, kissing Danny's bottom lip.

"Mmm, I should say that to you. You rode me like nobody's business, Sam-a, damn," Danny mumbled, kissing him back.

Sam squeezed his cheeks in his hands, rubbing their mouths and noses together in more of a canine kiss than a human one. He ran one hand down Danny's arm to his left hand, carefully holding it.

Danny squeezed back, weakly, as any movement still did hurt. He sighed and rested his head against Sam, eyes slipping closed.

"You wanna sleep, baby? We can take a nap, but it probably shouldn't be in this position."

Danny laughed tiredly and nodded, looking at Sam with sleepy, love-filled eyes. Sam gazed back at him, tracing his brows with one gentle finger.

"I love you, too, by the way - but you know that." They both grinned. "Yeah, c'mon, we can sleep for a bit before bath time."

"Ughh," Danny groaned, "bath time? I feel like a child."

"Well, it's more for me than it is for you, today," Sam said, sliding off of Danny's lap onto the floor, then standing up and helping his mate to his feet. "I gotta clean myself off, you saying you don't wanna join me?"

"No, no, I didn't say that. Always jumping to conclusions, Sam-a."

Sam rolled his eyes and looped his arm around Danny's waist, walking them down the hall. He flopped dowm onto their King-sized bed and groaned, stretching his body like a cat.

"Man, we went hard. I'm gonna sleep for hours."

Danny flopped down next to him, throwing an arm over his ribs and nuzzling his neck.

"Hey, well, that was mostly you doing the work. But, yeah, sleep time now," he shuffled his legs around a bit, getting situated. "G'night, babe, I love you."

Sam kissed his temple, wrapping his limbs around Danny and sighing. He brought a pillow down from the head of the bed, shoving it under a sleepy Danny - taking care of him, always - then closed his eyes for a much needed nap.

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huds-hub · 4 years

Text

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; MUN & MUSE - MEME

FILL OUT & REPOST ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

Stolen from @mrfunnybone. Since this meme has a bias for canon muses, I’m tagging two of my favorite canon writers that I know didn’t fill this out yet: @soulcoerced and @spearslinger (I wonder if a fellow Undyne RPer has a different take on some of these questions? ^^;;). For everyone else, feel free to steal it and tag me if you do! I’m curious to see how OC muns answer some of these questions...

MY MUSE IS: CANON / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated [[ The adult version of my muse is canon, but her teenage equivalent is not present anywhere in Undertale / Deltarune. So, uh… canon but kind of complicated I guess??? I like describing my muse as canon-wise. My Deltarune fishies are undoubtedly AUs at most, canon-divergent at least. ]]

[[ Mun’s note: I’m going to cheat on this. For the next 8 questions, I’ll answer for both Undyne as my teen muse AND regular adult canon Undertale Undyne. My thoughts on her counts as something, right? My muse is based on canon! ]]

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK [[ Undyne’s character to the rest of the fandom is unpopular (compared to Sans, Chara, Gaster, etc…). It’s a shame, because her dialogue portraits alone would make great meme fodder. HOWEVER, among Undyne fans, I notice there’s an interest in depicting her early years because she’s one of the few cast members who’s had their childhood explicitly mentioned. ]]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK [[ She’d better not be, because my muse is a C H I L D. As far as I’ve seen, canon adult Undyne is depicted more often as a ‘badass’ than a ‘sexy fish.’ ]]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK [[ Younger Undyne is definitely interpreted to be a determined, tough kid. Of course it’s the same for adult canon Undyne. It’s basically her most distinct character trait. ]]

Are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK [[ Lordy, Undyne as a whole is entirely underrated by the fandom... ]]

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO [[ OMG... you’re gonna get me started. I’m marking ‘no’ on this question because this is supposed to be about my aged-down muse. But Undyne... sweet violent Undyne’s very important to Undertale’s story! *fangirling START* Besides being the mid-point antagonist in the game, Undyne adds a layer of the theme of DETERMINATION to the game and how it can manifest in monsters if their bodies are strong enough to handle it. In an allegorical sense, she represents extremism in reaction to oppression and how that passion can take on the form of extreme love or extreme hatred depending on circumstance. So HELL YEAH she’s important to the main story of the game! AAAHILoveThisFish!! *fangirling END* ]]

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [[ Same as the previous answer for my teen Undyne: begrudgingly marking this with a ‘no’... It’s a YES for canon Undyne. In all routes, original game’s Undyne is the first character who is purposefully trying to kill the Player. Players can’t get the best ending without helping her hook up with Alphys and not incurring her wrath by killing any monster. In the worst ending, she’s one of the two antagonists that put up enough of a fight to make any player abort the Genocide Route. ]]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO [[ My muse WANTS to be significant to her world. In the original game, Undyne’s only mentioned by others in Snowdin and Waterfall (not counting Alphys in Hotland). She’s described as a “local hero” by Gerson. I get a sense she’s not exactly famous to the people in the entire Underground compared to, say, Mettaton. ]]

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL [[ Oof. Pretty sure my teen fish annoys the residence of Waterfall for being a loud-mouthed little scamp. The only reason she’s not considered ‘bad’ is because it’s pent-up energy and misguidedness, not flat-out cruelty. In canon, it seems like the people who talk about Undyne do it in either a positive or neutral light. You have Monster Kid, Papyrus, and Onionsan singing her praises. The Royal Guard members respect her. Asgore thought of her well enough to have her lead his military. Uhh, for a neutral instance, I remember an NPC in Snowdin saying she’s “loud, rude, and beats up anybody who gets in her way” (I don’t remember the exact quote). To weigh this more on the side of my muse, I’ll mark this answer as ‘neutral.’ ]]

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON? [[ Since I have an aged-down character, canon is literally my END GOAL! I gave her a “starting point” on her journey to the determined, dedicated, and excitable warrior fish we all know and love from the game. I filled in the gaps from there, using parts of her past mentioned in the game to glue the headcanons together. Deciding what she was like when she was younger – What’s her family background? What aspects about her changed as she matures? What internal and external conflicts would she deal with as a teen? – THAT’S the non-canon part. My Deltarune AUs are… different. Canon is my end goal too, but the timelines are all wonky to fit the needs of wanting to interact with the Fun Gang. LOL ]]

SELL YOUR MUSE! AKA TRY TO LIST EVERYTHING, WHICH MAKES YOUR MUSE INTERESTING IN YOUR OPINION TO MAKE THEM SPICY FOR YOUR MUTUALS. [[ This kid is spunky, loyal, compassionate of the plight of her people, and will see through anything she sets her mind to, despite life’s barriers. She’s got a lot of pent-up energy and is searching for what she can do with it to help her achieve her goal of setting Monsterkind free! ]]

NOW THE OPPOSITE, LIST EVERYTHING WHY YOUR MUSE COULD NOT BE SO INTERESTING (EVEN IF YOU MAY NOT AGREE, WHAT DOES THE FANDOM PERHAPS THINK?). [[ The teen fishy has a streak of selfishness and short-sightedness. Being honest, Undyne would be a racial supremacist if she existed in real life. Big yikes. Also, she’s willingly being trained as a child soldier. Another big yikes right there. ]]

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE? [[ Ages ago, I RPed the adult version of Undyne, which resulted in a bunch of headcanons for her past. I had no desire to RP any of them after it ended. A year later, I commissioned an artist for a Gerson vs. teen Undyne piece. That single-handedly made me want to get back into RPing again. ]]

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING? [[ My fellow RPers wanting to interact with this silly fishy! When I first started, I expected my interest to peter out over the months. I didn’t expect many RPers wanting to interact with an aged-down character. But here I am, wanting to expand my headcanons further and making AUs so I’m not limited to canon. ^^ It’s all thanks to you guys!! ]]

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO?

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO / SORT OF? [[ I should do it more often TBH. But I find showing them via story-telling more fulfilling than just explicitly explaining them in posts. Plus, it gives me more leeway if I’m still playing around with an idea. ;) ]]

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO [[ I’m not counting the three pending drabbles until I finish them. ^^;; ]]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [[ She finds a way to bother me! Usually in the form of sudden inspiration for how to respond to RPs. ]]

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF? [[ Sometimes I wonder if I forgot some aspect about Undyne that’s in canon, or unintentionally exaggerating other less-important aspects of her other characteristics… ]]

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO / SORT OF? [[ Generally, yes. But I do have my days when I suffer from low self-confidence. ]]

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. / SORT OF? [[ It depends on what’s meant by that. I’m sensitive to other people’s feelings, so I don’t intend to sound rude OOC, even if I’m expressing something negative about something I think the other did. If this is referring to being sensitive about events in RPs… my sensitivity is equivalent to that of being invested in any work of fiction. I know it’s not reality. I can pull away from the fictional world and it won’t bring down my real life. ]]

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL? [[ If it’s given in good faith and is constructive, sure. ]]

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER? [[ Hell yeah, give them to me! ]]

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? [[ It depends if they want to tell me. I don’t mind either way. Personally, I like hearing other people’s interpretations! ]]

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT? [[ *shrug* It doesn’t matter as long as they don’t harass me. ]]

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT? [[ I’d just ignore it. They don’t need to interact or follow me. If my muse really is a bother to them, they can block my account. ]]

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS? [[ I hope my grammar’s good enough, or else my English degree studies went to waste! But yeah, sure. Fun fact: explaining grammar rules so people can avoid major errors in the future is more helpful than nit-picking insignificant errors without explanations. ]]

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN? [[ As long as fellow RPers aren’t being rude OOC, don’t break any serious rules, or do something that I mention are personal triggers to me, I am easy-going! RPing is fun and it should stay that way for everybody involved! ]]

#mun monday #ooc #long post #yikes that took me a week to finish writing #but it was fun #this post was such a pain to format

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verai-marcel · 5 years

Text

Steal A Moment With You (RDR2 Fanfic, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: You're a great lady thief, with fingers dexterous enough to steal the pants off a man. And if that didn't work, you always had your charm. But at a fancy soiree, you finally meet your match: an outlaw who could charm the dress off you.

Author’s Notes: I hadn't written anything at the Mayor's party yet, so @dva-xo's request was the perfect opportunity to do so.

Tags: medium honor Arthur, female reader, seduction, dirty talk, D/s, gentle dom Arthur, sexy times, please don’t read this if you’re a minor, if I find you’re a minor and following my blog, I’ll have to block you :(

Also find it on AO3 here.

It was amazing what a new dress and a few well spoken complements could get you. Over the course of the past week, you had acquired an invite to the Mayor’s party, and it was happening tonight. You could see the garden was filled to the brim with society’s richest folks, and that meant money. Billfolds galore. Your eyes wandered around as you flitted between groups. You chatted amiably about one's health and the weather, the two most innocuous topics that kept these dullards speaking about themselves long enough that you could excuse yourself and find another fool to “bump into” without being noticed.

You looked up at the balcony of the mansion and noticed some men smoking cigars and laughing jovially with the snake, Bronte.

Well, well, what do we have here? Three snacks and a meal. Must be some rich folk.

Observing each one in turn, one of them had caught your eye. He grabbed a man’s arm to light his cigar, and puffed, a satisfied look on his face. That dominant move had you interested despite your usual nonchalance about men. He looked a bit rough around the edges, even with his nice suit and cut hair. In fact, so did the other three men with him.

Interesting.

Thinking that maybe they were nouveau riche, and thus, naive about parties like these, you decided to keep an eye out for them, to see if there were any opportunities to pickpocket them. As you strolled around the party, pocketing cufflinks and the occasional billfold here and there, you kept spotting the one man, saving someone from choking to death (should’ve let him choke, you thought), complimenting someone’s clothing awkwardly, and helping to pour some drinks.

And while the fireworks went off in the sky, you noticed him start to trail a servant towards the house.

Definitely interesting.

You made your excuses to some old man you were talking to and gracefully walked away to start following the mystery man. Quietly through the house, you made your way up the stairs after him, trailing far enough behind that if a servant spotted you, you could make up an excuse about being lost and looking for a restroom. As you reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner, you heard his footsteps and quickly put yourself in his path.

He was bigger than you realized, and you ran right into his broad chest. His hands immediately came up to your shoulders to steady you, and while you reached around his waistcoat with one hand, you distracted him by pushing your bosom against him and splaying your other hand against his chest, feeling the muscles underneath the suit.

“I'm so sorry, sir,” you said, slurring your words a bit for effect. “I'm a bit lost.” You looked up at him with your doe eyes and shy smile. Men always fell for the helpless damsel bit.

“Not a problem, miss,” he drawled, and his eyes wandered down, taking in your low neckline, the white frills of your sleeveless evening dress that accentuated your bust. His hands were warm against your bare skin, and he gripped you a little tighter as he took an extra moment to look at your exposed skin.

Then his hand shot down to grab your wrist. Your fingers had almost plucked the paper from his pocket; you had been so close.

“Nice try, princess,” he rumbled in your ear. “I know your type.”

Your eyes immediately sharpened. He definitely had a background in thievery. Your smile faltered as he smiled knowingly at you, the glimmer in his blue-green eyes making your heart beat harder. That wasn't fair at all, you thought.

You both turned towards the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Not letting go of your wrist, he quickly pulled you down the hall towards a row of rooms. Picking one at random, he shoved you inside and quietly closed the door. The sound of a lock echoed in the darkness.

He pulled out a small pack of matches and lit one to look around. It was a small guest bedroom, with a lantern on the nightstand near the bed. He crossed the room and lit the lantern, the glow making everything look soft and dim.

Would be almost romantic if I wasn't in this mess, you mused as you turned around and put your ear to the door, trying to listen for steps.

Then you felt the mystery man’s arms brace on either side of you as he too, put his ear to the door. With his chest so close against your back, you felt heat pool in your belly. The physicality of him was something you were not expecting to have so close to you, and you didn’t anticipate your body’s response to him. It was hard to hear anything past the beating of your own heart.

“Sounds a little busy out there. Looks like we'll have to wait.”

His voice was low in your ear, almost vibrating through your head. You turned your head to look at him. The lazy smile he had on when he first caught you had returned. He took a small step back from you and lowered his arms.

“Now, what am I gonna do wit’ you? Tryin’ to steal from me? I think I'm entitled to some retribution.”

You stared hard at him.

He held up his hands. “Now now, I ain't like that. You must've pickpocketed some of those fine folk downstairs. Just share some with me and I'll forget all about you.”

“Is there something else I can give you?” you asked without thinking. You didn't want to give up what meager take you had tonight. But you hadn’t expected yourself to just offer something else, and neither did he. But you immediately noticed the change in him, because the look in his eyes turned hungry.

“I don't think it's something you want to give me, princess.”

Turning to face him, you realized that you may have made a mistake in asking. Now he was looking at you with an animal magnetism that you couldn't resist; you wanted to touch him, to feel that thrill of being so close to something so dangerous. Your breath caught, your body moved forward on its own. Placing a tentative hand on his chest, you leaned closer and whispered, “Tell me, sir. What do you want from me?”

He stepped forward, forcing you up against the door. You could feel how hard he was against you, feel the heat from his hands as he caressed your cheek and held your hip.

“I want,” he breathed into your ear, “your complete and utter obedience when I shove myself deep inside you.”

You moaned.

“And as I'm taking you, I want to hear how much of a whore you are for me.”

Swallowing hard, you couldn't help your body tensing, yearning to submit fully to this man; there was something so untamed about him, and you felt an urge to just roll over and let him have you. You had never been like this before. What was it with his enthralling gaze that enticed you so?

Then he stepped away, leaving you some space to breathe, to think, but it was hard to stay objective when he smelled of forest air and tobacco, and you wanted to wrap yourself up in his scent tonight.

“Up to you. Or we just wait and sneak outta here at the next opportunity.”

He took another two steps back, but his eyes still held yours captive. As if he was pulling you by an invisible leash, you moved towards him. He held out his arms as one would to coax a frightened animal, and his hushed, encouraging murmurs were so tempting to your ears.

“Come closer if you want this,” he crooned. He kept moving backwards, towards the bed, and you kept following him like a fool, desperate for the promise in his eyes. It was a promise of sweet pleasure and mind-numbing bliss, and you wanted all of it.

He stopped just short of the bed, and you reached out for him. Taking your outstretched hand, he pulled you into his arms and leaned his head down, lips almost on yours. Almost.

“You givin’ in, princess?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “All in.”

He finally kissed you, and every kiss you had ever experienced was washed away in the passionate wave of desire that crashed through you as he devoured your lips. He held you close, running his hands up and down your curves. Touching the top of your dress, he slid it off your shoulders, expertly undoing every bow, every button, everything that was in the way of touching your bare skin with his hands. Soon, you were nude before him, regretting nothing.

He sat down on the bed, and you straddled his lap, holding onto his shoulders for balance. His hands massaged your ass, then moved up to rub your back. It felt so good that you moaned, rubbing your chest against his face. Capturing a nipple with his mouth, he sucked and teased you, all the while setting you ablaze with his touch.

Taking you by your hips, he guided you off his lap and onto your knees before him. Taking your hands, he kissed them each and placed them on the fly of his pants.

“Please me, darlin’.”

You got to unbuttoning his pants, reaching in to pull him free so you could start stroking him gently. He hissed at your touch, and his hips twitched upwards.

“Use your mouth,” he ordered. You blinked. You had never done that before, so you hesitated. His hand was on the back of your neck, rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“Just take in a little at a time,” he gently instructed, and you cautiously sucked on the tip of him, before slowly taking in more and more into your mouth. His encouraging murmurs guided you to use your tongue, to change the angle of your head, to let him grasp the back of your head and move you, letting him take control.

“You're doing so good,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Come back up here and ride me.”

You straddled him again and slowly lowered yourself into his hard shaft. He was thick and long, and it burned while he stretched you. Reaching down to touch your clit, he licked your nipple, keeping you distracted with his expert tongue while you sunk down, sighing in satisfaction when you were filled fully.

He then grabbed your ass and squeezed. “Go on,” he whispered. You did as he ordered, moving up and down on his, grinding and undulating your hips just to see his eyes roll back with pleasure. His low moans were music to your ears as you kissed him, drinking in his every touch like a thirsty woman and he was a goddamn oasis.

Just as you were about to reach your peak, he lifted you up and rolled both of you over so he was on top of you on the bed. He pulled out and slapped your clit with his cock. You squealed at the sudden sensation, so he did it a few more times, making you squirm.

“Why don't you take your clothes off?” you asked him.

“You don't like what I'm wearin’?”

“I do…” you trailed off.

“Then just enjoy it,” he said with a finality to his tone. He thrust back inside you in case you were going to ask again, and picking you up by your hips, took you voraciously. Watching him above you, his muscles bulging under his suit as he effortlessly held you while rolling his hips, giving you the strongest fuck of your life, was an amazingly heady feeling.

He then fell upon you, his scent surrounding you as he held you in his arms and kissed you.

“I lied,” he breathed as he pounded into you. “I'd never forget you. You feel like heaven.”

Then he reached down and thumbed your clit in just the right way, throwing you off the cliff of bliss. Combined with him leaning over you and growling into your ear, his other hand gripping your hip tighter, you came so hard you saw stars, the pleasure pulsating through your body like an electric current.

He kept moving as you rode out your climax, until you were almost limp. Then he pulled out of you and crawled up to level his cock with your mouth.

“Swallow my spend, princess.”

You opened your mouth and let him finish inside, drinking him in. It was bitter, salty, and smelled of his musk. It was not entirely unpleasant, and not something you were familiar with tasting. But the smile he gave you as you licked him clean was priceless.

He helped you clean up and get dressed once more. By now, you thought it would be clear enough for the two of you to sneak out. Your hair was mussed, but you just quickly tied it up in an informal bun, and together the two of you quietly opened the door and got out of the mansion together.

“See you around?” you said jokingly.

“Maybe. Hopefully,” he answered, winking at you before walking off in the opposite direction. You watched him saunter away, enjoying the sway of his gait as he moved. It was almost a damn pleasure watching him walk.

Then you casually walked towards the back of the garden where no one was watching, and found a gate to exit. As you got onto the main street and headed towards your temporary home in the city, you reached into your pockets to make sure everything you had stolen was still there.

You noted that your kerchief, the one you had embroidered with your initials, was gone. In its place, was a black one. It was the one that had been in his pocket. You smiled. That bastard.

***

“What took you so long, Morgan?”

“Just took a while to get out of there without getting caught,” Arthur grumbled. He followed behind the others to the coach. He briefly reached into his pocket to touch the kerchief he pickpocketed, and smiled to himself.

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

End Notes: Hope ya’ll enjoyed this! It started off low honor Arthur, and he slowly regained some honor along the way.

#arthur morgan #arthur x reader #writing #fanfic #nsft #lemon fic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2

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eadanga · 5 years

Text

Work, Love, and Desire Part 11

Author note: This series is for @indiacater one of my winners for my 300 followers giveaway Hope you enjoy it and thank you for participating

MC quickly covered herself up as she stared wide eyed at her dad “D-dad what are you…?”

His look of shock turned to rage as his eyes landed on Chris. Before MC could blink her grab Chris by the throat “You son of a bitch!” He punched him hard in the face knocking him to the ground,

MC jumped off the bed and stood in between in them “Dad stop it! Don’t hurt him!”

“Move MC!”

“Not a chance!” He tried to get around her but MC blocks his path “You can’t just barge into my apartment and start beating the shit out of my guest!” She sighs “Just go wait in the living room and I will talk to you”

Gabriel clenches his teeth “Fine” He walks out the room

MC rushes over to Chris “Are you ok?”

“Yeah I have to admit your dad really knows how to hit”

“I’m so sorry I had no idea he was coming”

Chris smiles “It’s alright baby it’s not your fault”

A sleepy Zack strolls in the room “What’s going on? I heard a lot of yelling”

“My dad came in here and saw us”

“Oh geez that must have been awful”

“It was can you sneak Chris out of here while I talk to my dad I don’t want him to flip out again”

“You got it come on Chris”

MC gets dressed and walks out to the living room where here dad waits. She sits down across from him and he raises an eyebrow “Well who is he?”

“He’s my boyfriend dad”

“You have a boyfriend?!”

“Yeah…” MC looks over his shoulder as Zack leads Chris out the door and locks it

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?!”

“Because you do shit like that! You almost killed Zack when I introduced him as my roommate”

“I don’t want to you to get hurt MC”

“By barging into my apartment” MC crosses her arms “Speaking of why are you here?”

“I got a phone call along with pictures that you were seeing someone and I had to know whether or not it was true” He looks up at her “I don’t like this guy MC he’s just using you”

“What? How do you know?”

“I’ve got pictures of him partying with girls take a look” He hand her his phone

MC scrolls through the pictures of the club she scoffs “I know about this dad I was there Chris told me what happened”

“And you just believe him?! Has he brainwashed you?!”

“I’m not being brainwashed Chris has been open and honest with me that’s one of things that made me fall in love with him”

Gabriel’s eyes go wide “What did you say?”

“You heard me I love him dad he means everything to me”

Gabriel stands “You don’t know what your talking about”

“I do know” She stands “I love him and I am going to be with him whether you like it or not”

Gabriel grits his teeth then he checks his phone “I’ve gotta get to a meeting we’ll discuss this later”

He walks out as MC sighs. Zack comes out and places a hand on her shoulder “You ok?”

“Yeah I’m pretty pissed to know someone has been spying on us” She pulls out her phone and dials a number “I’m gonna find out where that phone call and pictures came from”

****

Chris walked into the kitchen washing dishes. His mind shifts back to MC. He worried about what as going on between her and dad. He had hoped it didn’t ruin their relationship he would never want MC to choose to between him and her dad Maybe I should end the relationship I know she loves her dad I don’t want to come in between them. He sighs But how can I? It will hurt her and I don’t wanna hurt her I love her so much.

The doorbell rings and Chris goes to answer it. He smiles when he sees MC “Hey”

“Hey can I come in?”

Chris steps aside and let’s her in. MC sits on the couch and Chris sits next to her. She cups his cheek “Oh no look at that bruise”

“It’s fine I’ve had worse”

“Well at least let me ice it” She gets up and goes to get a pack of ice. She sits next to him and places the ice on his cheek “I’m sorry”

“Don’t worry about it MC how did things go with your dad?”

“Well he wasn’t happy claiming that you were using me but I stood my ground and he left”

Chris sighs “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I don’t wanna come between you and your dad”

“Chris my dad will just have to deal with it cause I’m not gonna stop seeing you” She looks into his eyes “And can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t wanna be with me?”

Chris looks into her eyes they were sparkling. Then he looks at the floor “No…” He wraps her up in his arms “I can’t I love you so much”

“I love you too” She wraps her arms around him and they stay like that enjoying each other’s embrace. She pulls back “Chris someone has been spying on us”

“What?”

“My dad had pictures of you at the club and he got a phone call that you were at my place”

Chris frowns “I don’t like this”

“I don’t either but don’t worry I’ve got a friend who’s looking into it he’ll find out where that phone call came from”

“I’m glad” Chris cups her cheek “I don’t anything to happen to you”

“I’ll be fine Chris” She smirks “I have a big strong man protecting me”

He chuckles “I will always protect my girl” He grabs her wrists and looks deep into her eyes. She drops the ice pack and he pulls her in for a passionate kiss. She wraps her arms around him and he pulls her on top of him. His arms go around her waist as he pulls her closer “You’re gorgeous MC”

MC smiles “So are you”

He chuckles as he continues to kiss her. His phone buzzes and he pulls back “Shit I forgot I had practice today”

MC smiles “Then you better go” Neither of them move MC laughs “I should get off of you” Chris chuckles as she climbs off of him then kisses him on the cheek “I’ll see you later”

“Of course baby”

MC grabs her bag and walks out. Chris smiles then grabs his stuff for practice.

****

Chris heads into the locker room and unpacks his stuff Lucas comes up behind him “Dude what happened to your face?”

“Nothing just had an accident”

“Really?”

Chris sighs “Ok fine her dad found out about us”

“Are you serious and he did that to you?!”

“Yeah I hope none of you blabbed about my relationship with her”

His teammates shake their heads Jack sits next to him “No we thought about it and you look really happy with her and we’re sorry for being so pushy about it”

Chris smiles “Thanks man”

“But are you gonna do now that her dad knows”

“Don’t know hopefully it will all work out”

****

MC sat at the dining table her hands typing so fast she couldn’t stop This is good I’ve never felt so inspired like this Her phones rings and she answers “Hey did you find out anything?”

“Yeah I think I know whose been spying on you”

Tags: @indiacater @hopefulmoonobject @annekebbphotography @the-soot-sprite @furiousherringoperatortoad @cora-nova

#tf/ts/tj/ts #choices tf/ts #The Freshman #choices fan fiction #choices the senior #the senior #The Sophmore #the junior #Chris Powell #Christopher Powell #chris x mc #chris fanfiction

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