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enviedear · 5 months

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omg maybe some fluff/angst abt billy being protective. like maybe gf/wife!reader is getting hit on and she can normally protect herself but maybe some guy gets a little too handsy with her and then billy steps in to protect his baby:(( i think i would actually die

protective!billy bonney...

babe i'm always down for protective!billy, because he's just intrinsically protective. and that's hot.

tw— violence, a bullet graze (not billy or reader), men being mysogonistic (this is the wild west idk what to tell ya), unwanted touch (on the waist, no private areas)

request

it'd been a long day already, and the sun hadn't even struck noon. rowdy ranch hands, drunkards, and gang members littered the town square. their minds hazy from drink, worsened by the hot sun.

it was a day of celebration, according to them. the lot of them managed to wrangle up a pack of wild coyotes the night before, the same pack that'd been laying waste to everyone's animals and supplies.

it was a gruesome yet necessary job, but the parlay in town has your ears steaming. they've already ruined an innocent game of catch the local kids had been playing and you roll your eyes when they start to approach you and the rest of the ladies standing outside the dress shop.

you avert your gaze, looking into the crowd for your fiancee. with no sight of billy, who's probably held up at the general store, you focus in on your dusty boots. you'd rather stare at them than the haughty men on their rampage.

"ain't you billy's little thing?" a gruff voice calls out.

you lift your head to find a impish man with tufts of blonde hair, "yes sir, that'd be me." your tone is kind, but your words clipped.

the man draws closer, spitting to his left before giving you a drunken snd sly smirk, "got himself a pretty one, ain't he?"

his question is redundant, and you opt not to answer. instead you give him a smile, slowly backing away and inching toward the entrance of the shop.

the women around you won't be any help, too worried with fending off the other rambunctious men. you're going to have to get yourself out of this one.

the man continues his pursuit of you, "gimme your name, girl. m'bettin' it's real nice."

your fingers find the doorknob behind you but your eyes widen when the door refuses to budge. damn shopkeeper, locking up when you need a safe haven most.

"i'm sorry, sir, my fiancee must be looking for me." your excuse is lame, but you pray it works.

the man steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. you flinch away, but he manages to grip you tightly anyway.

"come on now, don't be shy," he slurs, pulling you towards him. "what's your name, pretty thing?"

you struggle against his grip, but he's too strong. panic sets in as you realize there's no one around to help you, and you start to fear the worst.

"you need to let go o'me. my fiancee will kill you." you've grown desperate, enough so to lay your strongest card on the table— billy.

the man let out a hearty laugh, "fiancee? ain't no man gonna tie you down, little lady. not till you've had a taste of a real man."

you grow angrier by the second, but you can't help but laugh at his ignorance, "i think that's you giving yourself too much credit, sir," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "i' got myself a real man, the man i love. now if you don't let me go, you'll be sorry."

the man grows more forceful, pinning you to him, breath brushing your ear and hands groping your waist, "do you well to learn to shut you mouth, girl."

but just as you're about to give up hope, frozen in fear as the man trails his hands over you, a gunshot rings out, piercing the air like a sharp knife.

the man releases you, his face contorting in pain as he clutches at his leg. you inspect the wound as he falls away, just a graze, but you're sure it hurts like hell.

you turn away from the drunk, eyes finiding billy only yards away, his revolver still smoking in his hand. his face is cold and hard, his eyes blazing with anger.

"you heard the lady," billy speaks with a low and menacing voice. "i don't want to kill you, but if i so much as see you touch her again, you'll regret it."

the other men back away, pulling their injured friend with them, fear written all over their faces. they know better than to mess with billy, especially when he's in a foul mood.

you rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck. his embrace is tight and fierce, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice softening as he looks down at you.

you nod, voice shakey, "i am now," you whisper, feeling safe in his arms.

together, you walk away from the chaos of the town square, grateful for the love and protection you've found in each other.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

#billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid #billy bonney #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #billy the kid 2022 #coriolanus x reader #corio x reader #coryo x reader

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bendycxmet · 7 months

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Repair You—Vash the Stampede

Summary: Just repairing Vash's arm. He might see it as more than just a simple act of service though.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Content: fluff, the whole gangs here, drinking, drunken and silly Vash, Wolfwood being a tease

You sat quietly at the hotel desk for quite some time now, feet swung onto the hardwood desktop while haphazardly leaning backward in the rusty old chair with a book between your fingers. The crew had gone out for another late-night drinking session, negating your pleas to rest tonight as the previous night's session had taken a lot out of you.

"You're starting to show your age there yanno" quipped Wolfwood as he slung his arm heavily onto your shoulders. He leaned in, smirking with downward-cast eyes as the lit cigarette between his lips swirled nicotine smoke around your persona, putting you in a heady yet annoyed space.

"Am not! You know we're both around the same age, right?” You swatted the smoke that crawled its way into your nostrils, but Nico paid no mind, only crowding closer into your personal space to hear the futile excuse you gave next.

“It's just the hangover from this morning is still lingering. Maybe I feel it more than you since I out-drank your ass and you lost that bet when we were playing darts!" you teased as you wiggled your finger into his side. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, grumbling that you had cheated.

A loud stomp could be heard from behind, and before you could turn to see who was noisily heading your way, a tuft of blonde hair and dazed blue eyes appeared.

"Mayflyyyy cmonnn you didn't spend enough time with me yesterday night!" A poof of his breath revealed that Vash had already started the night's festivities. You see the striped tie wrapped around his forehead. You chuckle.

Yep, he’s definitely a couple drinks in.

Judging by how he had nudged his way between Wolfwood and yourself and sent a pointed glare toward the Undertaker, Vash was tipsy already. It was fun to see him tipsy when you were sober, as you were able to pinpoint the funny and affectionate little habits he threw your way, especially his small bouts of jealousy when Wolfwood became too close to you. He clung to your side as he batted his eyelashes, peering down at you with what could be described as the most endearing puppy dog eyes you have ever seen.

"Oh Vash, I did spend all yesterday night with you! You glued yourself to my side as if I was going to disappear! But you passed out on one of the tables before we left. That's why I played darts with Wolfwood." You giggled as you recalled Wolfwood begrudgingly carrying Vash back to your shared hotel room.

"Hey now you guys, let's just let them go back to their room. We can have enough fun here, right Milly?" drawled Meryl.

"Yeah!! Let's get a round of drinks going again, everyone. Have a good night y/n!" shouted Milly in a warbled tone as she clumsily made her way to the bar, Wolfwood trailing close behind to ensure the tall girl didn't drop any of their drinks.

"Mmmm please don't go…" whimpered Vash as he tucked his head into your neck. "I'll miss you too much."

"Vash, angel, have fun tonight okay?” You whispered into his ear.

“I'll be waiting back in the room. Plus, yanno what night it is?" you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly. Vash simply gave a slow blink.

"Arm repair day~"

Before the last word could escape your lips, Vash positively beamed at you, squealing in excitement before pecking your face and lips.

"Promise?!"

"I promise. I would never break our promise of these nights. Now go, I'll be waiting for you." You went to push him away as he kept planting wet, sloppy kisses against your cheeks, the skin flushing from his deep affections.

With that, you exit the populated bar, turning to look over your shoulder one last time as Vash bounds after the crew as they order another round of shots of a liquor you were too familiar with the night before. You groan, feeling nauseous at the thought.

You smile fondly at the memory that had played out only hours prior, ears perking up as several pairs of footsteps and giggling voices made their way down the hall. A loud thump could be heard before Meryl's quiet chastising ensued, warning the two to quiet down before they awakened the snoozing hotel patrons. Planting your feet down from the desk, you went to meet the crew in the hall. Swinging the door open, you were met with quite a chaotic scene.

Vash had Wolfwood's face in his hands, smooching faces being made as Wolfwood struggled to keep him at an arm’s length.

"Needle noggin I told you to quit it! I’m not your Mayfly.” Wolfwood perked up at the sound of your creaking door.

“Look! There’s your beloved Mayfly!” Vash whipped his head up, searching for you until his eyes met yours.

“Mayflyyy!” Vash pushed off Wolfwood and launched his body at yours standing in your shared hotel room threshold. You fell backwards with the strong, heavy weight of Vash abruptly meeting your ill-prepared stance, worrying you had hit your head on the dirty hardwood floors until you felt Vash’s warm fingers pressing into your skull. You sighed into his neck, wrapping your arms around him. Even drunk, Vash always prioritized the safety of your being.

“You should’ve seen him. His last drink sent him begging to see you. He was in tears. I shoulda told the bartender to dilute that beer,” chuckled Meryl, a snoring Milly hanging from her shoulders. “Well, we’re gonna turn in for the night. Good luck handling the typhoon.”

“Thanks you guys. Mind shutting the door? I’m in a bit of a… predicament.” Peering down, you can see the content smile gracing Vash’s face as he rubbed his face into your shirt, inhaling the scent of you.

“Sure thing. Night you guys.” With that, Meryl shut the door.

“Hey Stampede, enjoying yourself there?” Vash groaned, pinching your side with the hand that was not cradling your head.

“Yanno I hate when you call me that. Where’s my nicknamesss?” drawled Vash, sniffling as he peered up at you. You brought up one of your hands to tenderly caress his warm cheeks.

“Sorry my sweet angel~” you said in a lilted tone. “Thought you had forgotten all about me, and our designated nights.” Vash let out a loud gasp as he pushed himself so that he was sitting with his back to the end of the bed.

“Never ever! Look, I’m all ready.” Vash messily threw his red coat off, tugging his humanoid limb off and offering the piece to you. He seems to have sobered up quickly at the mention of what he had been looking forward to all night.

“What a good boy. Now go take a shower, you don’t smell like my usual Vash. I’ll get started on this.” Vash’s cheeks flushed an even darker pink at your praise, promptly hopping up and entering the bathroom, water and steam hissing from the gap under the closed door. You sat at the edge of the bed, tinkering with his arm with some tools you bought from a vendor many towns ago. You don’t understand why you love to do this for him. Maybe it's the only act of service you can do for him. Well, it’s the least you can do when he’s constantly laying down his life for you.

Vash exited the bathroom, steam filling the hotel room. His gray, weathered sweatpants hung low on his hips, chest left uncovered so that you could trail your eyes down the many scars littering his skin. You can never get used to seeing him like this, quickly averting your eyes back to the task at hand, struggling to quell the blush settled now on your face. The sensation of the cotton cloth between your fingers gave your brain a distraction from the sight in front of you. You missed the teasing spark in Vash’s eyes as he made his way to you, sitting on the floor and pushing his back between your calves hanging off the edge of the bed.

“How goes it?”

“Almost done… just gotta polish it.”

He hummed, tilting his head back until he was staring at you work. The cute crease you made in between your eyebrows whenever you were focused always had his heart twinge. How lovely it was to have someone take care of just one piece of him. Yearning for your attention after a long night without you, Vash turned his head to kiss the inner area of your knee. You giggled at the ticklish feeling.

“What’s wrong? You missed me that much?” You set the now polished arm on the bed, running your fingers through his coarse, soft blonde hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp. Vash hummed, his entire body slumping against the bed at your gentle caresses.

“You have no idea…” Vash’s breaths began to slow at the feeling of your fingertips combing through his wet hair. What a strange sight to see when his hair wasn’t spiked into his usual style. The way his hair settled lightly over his eyes gave him an almost vulnerable, boyish charm, the urge to shield him and take him away from the world that hurts him constantly hitting you square in the chest. You took a deep breath, remembering that he would rather get hurt himself before seeing you attempt to protect him. Better to just ensure the arm that protected not only yourself and the crew, but also himself, was optimized at all times.

“Let’s get under the covers, I can feel how tired you are.”

Vash progressively became heavier as a serene expression crossed his face, unfocused blues following your movements as you guided him under the covers, allowing his head to hit your chest, knowing he would appreciate hearing your soft, beating heart in his dreams. Vash’s last moments awake included him turning onto his side, arm wrapped around your middle, his legs interlacing with yours. The ensnaring warmth of him began to lull you to sleep, but not before you heard a quiet whisper floating upward from your chest.

“Thank you…”

You didn’t need an entire sentence to read in between the lines, or rather, in between two words to know that Vash was not just thanking you for repairing his humanoid arm. With those last two words from him, Vash’s soft, even breaths willed you to sleep.

A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for reading my first piece of fanfic I've ever posted! Not usually a writer, so bear with me haha just doing this for fun. I just really love Vash so I wanted to add some fanfics into the fandom. Thanks for reading and hope for your continued support! See ya <33

masterlist

Dividers

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #vash the stampede #vash x reader fluff #vash fluff #bendycxmet writes

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wonderinc-sonic · 15 days

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Silver Lights

… somewhere you felt was you. Somewhere you fit into, could see yourself in the landscape and the landscape in yourself; it was the backdrop behind your eyes where life had played itself. Somewhere the air in your ears and nose just fit so perfectly you'd never notice the sound or the smell, like a hand you've held for so long you'd only feel it if it let go. Have you ever felt so completely that you belonged somewhere, that returning to it was hearing the sky sigh: 'There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere' Silver hadn't. But as the snow crunched beneath his feet, and more tufts of snowflakes stuck to the outer coat of his fur as the wind brushed it from the horizon, it painted him in the same brush as the trees. And he was warm, from the inside. A true child again - maybe for the first time, he collected snow with his mind and wrapped it with cyan sparkles. The sky flexed and arched excitedly, speaking the language of light with him.

Want a drawing from me? Donate to a Palestinian aid cause. No restrictions, no lower limit. Details 🇵🇸

EDIT - GANG I FREAKIN FORGOT TO FLIP HIS HAND BACK OVER pls reblog this version if you're going to, I am a fool.

#this is an excerpt that I wrote down once for ASS fic then decided was a pretentious and pointless scene so scrapped it #quickly retyped because I was thinking about it again #this is to my crack headcanon that silver gets his powers from the aurora borealis but he's never seen it #silver the hedgehog #silver sonic #sonic fanart #wonderincs #drawincs #sth #EDIT I am a fool can't be bothered to remake this post though lol

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arkiwii · 6 months

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As (one of the) resident Arknights bird enjoyers, I want to make sure I'm not going crazy here. Cador, introduced in ep12, appears to be a Liberi by the feather-like hair shapes and lack of cat ears, but the wiki has him as a Feline. It does look like there might be a cat-like tail, but it's hard to tell, and the hair definitely looks like a Liberi to me. Do you think he's a Liberi, and, if so, do you have a guess as to what type of bird?

THIS IS FUNNY BECAUSE. When I first spotted him in chapter 12, I immediately screamed "BIRD????" then I checked the wiki and cried. The tail is definitely the break point, this guy's a cat (plus the Gasglow Gang being only cats, it would make sense). Probably a lynx, which would explain why his ears are so long, to stylize the ears tufts on a lynx

But gosh I wish he was a bird. gives me huge harpie eagle vibes

#me when bird isn't bird #arknights #askiwi

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kittycqts · 2 years

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Everyone's description from the book (the Curtis Gang)

For anyone who needs it.

Darrel 'Darry' Curtis

Darry is 6"2 with broad, muscular shoulders. He had dark-brown hair that kicks in the front and a slight cowlick in the back (just like his father's). He has pale blue-green eyes, almost like peices of ice. They have a determined set to them, just like the rest of him. He looks older than his age, but he's tough, cool and smart. "He would be real handsome if his eyes weren't so cold." He doesn't understand anything but hard fact, but he uses his head.

Sodapop 'Soda' Curtis

He's handsome, not like Darry. Hes movie-star handsome, "the kind people stop on the street to watch go by." He's not as tall as Darry, he's slimmer with a finely drawn, sensitive face. His face somehow manages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time. He's got dark-gold hair that he combs back--- long silky and straight. In the summer the sun bleaches it to a shining wheat gold. His eyes are a dark brown--- lively, dancing, recklessly laughing eyes. His eyes can be gentle and sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next. He has his father's eyes, but Soda is one of a kind. He can get drunk on plain living. And he understands everybody.

Ponyboy 'Pony' Curtis

He has light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish-grey eyes. His hair is longer than most boys wear theirs, squared off in the back and long at the front and sides.

Steve Randle

He is seventeen, tall and lean. He has thick, greasy hair He kept combed in complicated swirls. He was tacky and smart. Steve's specialty was cars, he knew cars upside-down and backwards, he could drive anything on wheels. He works at the same gas station as Soda, Steve part-time and Soda full-time. Steve is Soda's best friend, he has known him since grade school.

Keith 'Two-bit' Mathews

He's the oldest of the gang and the wisecracker of the bunch. He's about six feet tall, stocky in build, and very proud of his long rusty colored sideburns. He has grey eyes and a wide grin. He couldn't stop making funny remarks to save his life. He always had to get his two-bits worth in, hence his name. Life was one big joke to Two-bit. He was famous for shoplifting and his black-handle switchblade (which is stolen). He's always smarting off to the cops. He liked fights, blondes, and school. He is still a junior at 18 and a half and never learned anything.

Dallas 'Dally' Winston

He has an elfish face, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, small sharp animal teeth and ears like a lynx. His hair is almost white because it was so blonde. He doesn't like haircuts or hair oil either. His hair falls over his forehead in wisp and kicked out in the back in tufts and curled behind his ears and along the nape of his neck. His eyes are blue, like blazing ice with " a cold hatred of the world". He has spent 3 years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at the age of ten. He was tougher than the rest of the gang, tougher, colder, and meaner. The shade of difference that separates a greaser from a hood wasn't present in Dally. He was wild, like Tim Shepard's gang.

Johnny Cade

He was the last and least of the gang. You can picture a little dark puppy that has been kicked too many times and is lost in a crowd of strangers, you'll have Johnny. He is the youngest next to Pony. He was smaller than the rest, with a slight build. He has big black eyes in a dark tanned face; his hair was jet-black and heavily greased and combed to the side, but it was so long it fell as shaggy bangs across his forehead. He has a nervous, suspicious look in his eyes, the beatings he got from the socs didn't help that. He is the gang's pet, everyone's kid brother. His father was always beating him up and his mother ignored him. You could hear his mother yelling at him from the Curtis house. He would have ran away millions of times if it weren't for the gang.

#the outsiders #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #dallas winston #twobit mathews #johnny cade

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ritzy-reminiscence · 11 months

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─♣️─ Lackadaisy : Snuggle Struggles

⸝⸝ tl;dr : after running dangerously close to death during a fight with a rival speakeasy, freckle, ivy, and rocky seek solace + slumber in an abandoned barn, wherein freckle and ivy have a moment and ... fight over the blankets ? ⸝⸝ note : inspired by what @avatarvyakara said in my previous lackadaisy post ! thank u so much for lighting this funky little idea in my brain ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

⸝⸝ note² : 3k+ words ,,, currently unedited as of posting this, so expect edits and little things to be added in the future ! also, i'd like to thank thesaurus.com for supplying my dried-up vocabulary with synonyms for 'smile' and 'laugh'.

It was an adrenaline-pumped Rocky that drove their car -- smoking, one of the tires ominously squealing -- into the sanctuary of an abandoned barn. It rumbled and swayed down the worn dirt path, once kept spotlessly clean but was now littered with dead leaves and rocks and tufts of grass that had crept up through the dry soil. The full moon gave Rocky at least a bit of visibility, however dappled and blurred it may be through a canopy of tall willow trees, their drooping leaves swaying like sickly fingers in the wind. Ribbits of frogs and hums of cicadas joined the car's squeaking song, culminating into a cacophony that only seemed to shatter the frigid night air.

"It's not much," came Rocky's voice, sticking his head out the window to peer at the broken-down barn, "but it should keep us safe for the night."

In the backseat, Freckle fidgeted with the buttons on his waistcoat. Ivy sat next to him, keeping a tight grip on the half-a-dozen whiskey bottles they managed to salvage from an earlier fight with a rival speakeasy gang. It was their only reminder of what they had gone through during the night -- if you didn't count the bruises, cuts, gashes, and pains all three rookie rumrunners nursed.

And by God, do those bruises hurt.

It was the only thing Freckle could feel as Rocky slowed the car to a stop behind the barn; as they all clambered out of the busted up vehicle and opened the barn doors with a creak that shook the whole place; as Ivy found a set of matches on the hay-strewn floor and lit up the rusting lanterns hanging from the walls. While there aren't any sheep or chickens in the barn, the smell of them still lingered in the haystacks piled up in the corners of the drafty building, and it made Freckle nauseous. Through pain-dazed eyes, he watched from his spot on the floor as Ivy and Rocky gathered bundles of hay up the rickety ladder to the hayloft. He tried to keep his eyes open, to stand up and help, but the rafters spun and the floor swirled and the blood rushed into his head as he felt his body fall forwards and --

-- land onto a ... surprisingly soft wood floor ?

Not a floor, he eventually realized, opening his eyes and seeing a lantern swing softly overhead. Seeing Rocky's and Ivy's faces, the former grinning down at Freckle and the latter scrunching her nose. A bed made of straw. He gingerly moved his body, and felt hay prick his sides and tickle his arms.

"See, Miss Pepper, no harm done!" "Rocky, I said gently lower him onto the straw, not drop him onto the straw like a bag of rocks." "Miss Pepper, you knew that I had spaghetti arms - it'll take me awhile to get my muscles stiffened up to be linguine. And besides, I got him up to the hayloft, didn't I?"

Freckle strained his ears to listen as their voices got quieter. Their mouths were moving, and he was sure they were speaking. So why couldn't he hear them? He could only see their muzzles opening and stretching and closing. Could only see their eyes widening in and then their brows furrowing in tandem as the world closed in on him and he knew no more.

✧ ‧˚₊ ° ♣️ ° ₊˚‧✧

The next time Freckle opened his eyes, it was to see Rocky balancing on precariously stacked blocks of old hay, rotting wooden chairs, and damp barrels, straining to reach a couple of quilts hanging from the rafters.

"Keep those haystacks steady, Miss Pepper!" "I'm trying!"

Freckle heard a triumphant whoop of glee from Rocky as his paws held onto the ends of the fabric, followed by a wobbling scream and a thunderous crash as Rocky, haystacks, chairs, and barrels fell to the floor.

Freckle sat upright -- and immediately regretted it. He pinned his ears back and released his breath in a hiss as a fresh wave of pain gripped him around the chest.

"Rocky! Are you alright?" Ivy's shrill question of concern. A chuckle that turned into a cackle, and a mussed-up paw holding up two grubby quilts. "Right as rain!"

Freckle coughed and tried to breathe steadily, but it felt like knives were cutting into his skin everytime he did so.

Rocky and Ivy turned their heads to look at him, their ears facing forward and their tails thumping the floor.

"Rocky," Freckle started, taking in the strands of hay clinging to his cousin's fur and clothes, "are you sure you're okay?"

Rocky blinked, his mouth forming a small 'o' before splitting into an ear-to-ear 'v'.

" 'Course I am, dear cousin!" he replied, erupting into raucous laughter. "Nothing ol' Rocky can't handle!" He threw the quilts in Freckle's direction, and they landed with a heavy thud on the railings of the hayloft. "Are you okay, though?"

Freckle thought about that for a bit. "Better than before," he finally muttered.

To this, Rocky's grin spread even wider. "Well, I'll be taking my leave to go check on the car, then. Miss Pepper, take care of Freckle for me while I'm gone, will ya? Will ya -- ? Good! I won't take long, I'll just make sure the car is alright, and in the meantime you two go on and rest and cuddle and snuggle and neck--"

"What?"

Rocky stopped, smiling sheepishly. "Did I say anything?"

And just like that, he was walking out of the barn with a bounce to his step before Freckle could respond, the barn door shutting behind him with a resounding boom. Freckle sank deeper into the bed with a sigh, as Ivy climbed the ladder and took the two quilts on the splintery railings into her arms.

"By 'check on the car', does Rocky mean sleep in the car or leave the two of us alone so we can 'rest and cuddle and snuggle and neck'?" Ivy paused, as if in thought about something. "But then again, Rocky probably meant both," she added with a small giggle.

In response, Freckle let out a chuckle, and then a wince as he put a paw to his bruised ribs -- bruised or broken? Ivy's eyes widened with concern and she scuttled towards Freckle and began to prop his head up with one of the quilts.

"N-no, it's fine, Miss Pepper," wheezed Freckles, and Ivy laughed and propped him up anyways.

"Don't be silly, Calvin, you need it more than I do. And I already told you," she added, moving closer and sitting next to him, pulling her knees to her chin, "to call me Ivy."

Freckle could only nod dumbly, feeling the blush creep up to his cheeks. Ivy laughed and slid down to lay on her back, turning on her side and propping herself on her elbow to peer at Freckle.

"You know, Rocky did the right thing, leaving the two of us in here," she said, her tone low, an intimate murmur meant only for him. "You're really cute when you blush like that."

And that sent Freckle into a flurry of blushes and stammers, much to Ivy's delight and to his embarassment (or was he really embarassed, though?). Ivy laughed again -- musical, bright, lilting -- and she wriggled closer, her bottom lip below her teeth. Freckle could almost see his reflection in her eyes.

She smiled again, softer and sweeter this time. Overhead, the wind blew and whistled, making the rafters groan. Noticing this, Ivy reached behind her for the other quilt. She grimaced at the state of the fabric, but then shook her head and pulled it with a flourish so that it covered both her and Freckle.

"We better be heading to sleep," said Ivy, snuggling next to him and resting her head on his shoulder. "Rocky would probably wake us up in the crack of dawn, and your bruises need time to heal before he starts bouncing the car down the interstate again."

"Rocky probably wouldn't sleep tonight, anyways," Freckle blurted out, more to just speak out of anything.

"Probably," Ivy repeated, nodding. She looked up at him, her expression soft. "Well, goodnight, Calvin."

"Goodnight, Miss Pep- Ivy. Goodnight, Ivy. S-sleep well."

The sides of Ivy's mouth quirked up. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, her breathing steady.

Letting out an exhale, Freckle turned his head to stare up at the ceiling. Outside, the frogs resumed their croaking, and the cicadas continued their humming. The wind joined in, rustling the leaves of the willow trees outside. Ivy's breathing syncing up with his. It rocked him like how a mother rocks her child, the sounds of the barn and the woods and their breathing lulling him to sleep like a gentle balm to his heart.

✧ ‧˚₊ ° ♣️ ° ₊˚‧✧

It was dark, so dark Ivy couldn't even see her own paws. The lanterns must've been died down, she thought. Squinting in the gloom, she could faintly make out the silhouette of the embers of the coal of their overhead lantern turning from red to black. A shiver ran through Ivy's body, rustling her fur. Dark, and cold. Why was it so cold? She reached for the quilt -- and found that it wasn't anywhere near her. Confused, she sat up, and in the thin rays of moonlight the boarded-up barn windows let in she saw Calvin's body, turned on his side with his back to her and the folds of the quilt all bunched up beside him. No wonder why it's freezing.

She moved closer to him, fitting her front to his back and pulling the quilt back over the both of them. She let out a small gasp at the heat from Freckle's body, and she tentatively wrapped her arms around his middle, avoiding his ribs. Then she snuggled her cheek against his back, and sighed in content. Pulling the quilt back over the both of them, she closed her eyes and felt herself returning to slumber.

Until sometime later a breeze ran through the barn and Ivy felt the tips of her tail stand up.

She opened her eyes, groggy with sleep, and peered through the darkness once more. Calvin had rolled farther from her, bringing the quilt with him. Her lips in a peeved pout, she took hold of one end of the quilt and tugged, covering herself with the sliver of fabric that she had managed to pull from Calvin. Relaxing, she closed her eyes again and was already feeling sleep taking over her body when --

-- the blanket rolled away from her again and she sat up, ever so slightly livid from the effects of the cold and her sore body and her tiredness all combined.

Frustrated, she crawled towards Calvin again, and was ready to go into battle for the quilt when she saw him curled up, shivering, his knees to his chest and his tail wrapped around his legs. In horror, Ivy gave herself a mental smack on the head. He's the one with the bruised ribs, not you! Chagrin overcame her, and she softly whispered an apology before tucking the edges of the quilt around his body and settling to lay beside him, softly hugging him from behind in an attempt to warm him up with whatever body heat she had left in her. After all, she consoled herself, the socks on her feet was thick and her jacket, regardless of how soiled and roughed up it is, was soft. She could handle being cold for a couple of hours.

She quieted down, her body relaxing and her eyes closing once more. Eventually her breathing steadied, and she was asleep.

✧ ‧˚₊ ° ♣️ ° ₊˚‧✧

Freckle felt like he was rising from a deep jar of very thick molasses.

Slowly, his senses awoke and came to life. His ears heard the soft chirp of birds; his eyes saw the few rays of weak sun slipping through the cracks of the boarded windows and the dust motes that danced and swirled in it; his hands registered the dirt-caked patchwork of the quilt and with it the sleeping figure beside him.

The sleeping figure ... curled up into a ball, arms folded across her chest, ears pinned back, tail as stiff as a board and eyebrows knotted together. His brain struggled to think. Why was Ivy sleeping like that? Hesitantly, he reached out to touch the tips of her ears -- they were freezing. Freckle frowned, trying to recall the night before. The night before was filled with pain from his bruised ribs ... and the unusually harsh bite of an autumn breeze. In dread, everything clicked into place. He looked at the quilt gathered around him, then at Ivy's body, then back to the quilt and back to the body, over and over again until he felt like he was going to throw up.

Ivy slept last night without a blanket.

Quickly, he threw the quilt over her, guilt flooding his stomach. He repressed a squeak as Ivy grumbled. As she wriggled under the cover of the quilt and peeked one round eye open, then the other. She blinked several times in the pale dawn as she zeroed in on Freckle's expression.

"Are you okay?" she asked, fully alert and sitting up. "Is anything hurting, Calvin?" Just then she seemed to register the quilt. She looked down at it in confusion, then at Calvin.

Calvin felt his tongue unstick from the roof of his mouth. "Y-your ears were freezing and you seemed cold so I put the quilt on you and -- I'm sorry if you were really cold last night because of me -- I didn't mean to, I just roll around a lot when I sleep so--"

Laughing, Ivy stopped him with a kiss. Before Calvin could react, she pulled away and wrapped the quilt around his shoulders.

"Well, it was cold last night," she said with a shrug, "but you seemed like you needed it more. You should've seen yourself, you were shaking like a leaf in a storm."

Freckle had a faint memory of waking up and finding the barn really cold, but he doubted that it was as bad as Ivy told him.

(It was as bad as Ivy told him.)

"But still," he started, his voice fading away into nothingness as he took the quilt and placed it back around Ivy.

"I'm okay, Calvin," she replied, shaking her head in bemusement. Her lips puckered up in a pout and she shut one eye, as if in thought. "How about this -- we try to get a bit more shut-eye before Rocky blasts the barn open with the car? But this time, we both get the quilt. How does that sound?"

Freckle couldn't help but smile. God, he liked her. He liked her a lot. Thank you for dragging me into the cafe during that one time, Rocky, said a little voice in the back of his head.

"That sounds fine with me, Miss Pepper," he found himself saying before he could stop himself.

Ivy's eyes enlarged and her eyebrows scowled in mock anger, drawing herself up to her full sitting height.

"I mean Ivy," said Freckle hastily, meeting her gaze with one of mock timidness. "That sounds fine with me, Ivy."

Ivy glared at him for a while, then her face broke out into a smile, so contagious and sunny it was that Freckle smiled as well. Giggling, she lay back down again, smoothing the rumpled spot of hay beside her and patting it. Freckle did the same, barely managing to not erupt into blushes when Ivy threw her arms around him and gently nuzzled the side of her face into his chest. Freckle stared down at the top of her head and -- he didn't know what possessed him to do it so boldly -- found one of his paws cradling it oh so softly, holding it like it was a fragile vase. The other found itself interlocking its fingers with hers, their paws fitting so perfectly within each other. Ivy looked at him, stunned at what he had done, then her eyes softened and she grinned.

"What a sheik you are," she teased, giving him yet another kiss. This time Freckle returned her kisses, pulling her closer to him and stroking the back of her head, weaving his fingers into her hair. In between kisses he found himself sighing in satisfaction, enjoying the sensation of Ivy's lips against his. Rocky could be back at any moment, and he could badger and taunt Freckle all he wanted when he caught him like this, but Freckle found that he didn't care. Well, for now, anyways.

✧ ‧˚₊ ° ♣️ ° ₊˚‧✧

It was a bright-eyed Rocky that drove their fixed car -- fixed being a subjective matter, with the trunk shut tight with several rolls of tape and syrup -- down the worn dirt path of the barn. Last night the whole place had looked forboding, like it'll drag you by the ends of your feet and swallow you whole; but in the pale autumn morning, with the skies the color of cotton-candy and the clouds painted pale gold by the waking sun, it seemed approachable, welcoming even. Even the willow trees were pleasant to look at!

He stopped the car in front of the barn. Stepping out, he whistled a merry little tune.

"RISE AND SHINE SLEEPING BEAUTIES," he announced, throwing the barn door open with an extravagant sweep of his paw. "THE SUN IS SOARING, THE BIRDS ARE SINGING, AND WE DON'T WANNA MAKE MISS M. TOO MAD - oh, what's this?" he added, fixing the hayloft with a curious stare.

Swiftly, he climbed the ladder and had to bite down on his lip to prevent himself from howling with laughter at what he's seeing.

"Freckle, you rascal," he choked out, wiping tears of pride from his eyes. "You rascal, you."

It was almost seven in the morning, and Rocky knew there'd be hell to pay once he gets the car back in the garage next to the Little Daisy cafe, but how could he possibly wake his dearest cousin and his sweetheart from such a saccharine slumber? So he decided to climb back down the ladder and exit the barn -- he needed more than five coats of syrup to keep the trunk closed, anyways --, leaving Freckle and Ivy alone in their makeshift bed in the hayloft, their arms wrapped around each other in a loving embrace, fingers locked, chests rising and falling in a synchronized rhythm.

36 notes · View notes

billkaulitzwife · 1 year

Note

CAN YOU DO MORE HEADCANNONS ON PONYBOY???

HEY KURT AND YEA OFC!!

okay imma do sfw and nsfw bc.... well kurt ik you.

warnings!

swearing, nsfw, mention of sêx, idk what else...

Now playing: your favourite dress

rip lil peep. we (i) miss u.

SFW :))

Dates.

This man loves dates.

He'd always take you to whatever movies you'd like or anything paul mcfuckin newman😃

This kid has a death wish

Like he'll obliterate ANY soc last dares put his eyes on you

He loves when you play with his hair and pull him into kisses by the tufts of hair on his neck

Pony really likes kisses

PLEASE KISS THIS MANS FACE

TELL HIM HES PRETTY

HE WILL MELT

He seems like if Johnny didn't die he'd be a silver guy, but after he was always gold.

luckily im my au johnny is well and alive

bobs js.

dead.

BUT

Pony is so in love with you he pushes SHERRY MCFUCKING VALENCE away

Ever since y'all got together, Soda would be really protective of not js him

but you.

like you grew on him.

ur his sibling in law

Pony felt really happy Soda and Darry accepted you so quick

You were in the gang anyways.

Pony blushes when you kiss him

Like over text this man is so bold

"Hey Y/N i miss your pretty face"

"kicking my legs"

"Y/N you shld come over my brothers arent home"

but irl hes like

too tense

he doesnt wanna like hurt you or make you uncomfortable

but he still yk made a move

When you asked him out (or he asked you) his hands were sweatier than Satan's ballsack dude.

Like???

hyperhidrosis who?

He gets nervous when y'all kiss

he feels like if he just went for it he'd faceplant into you

ykwim babes?

yea... yea you do cutie

ik yall love me.

hes defo a lil peep stan

he loves idk how to say it but like calling you nicknames that dont fucking correlate to ur name

like my friend calls her boyfriend applesauce and i feel pony would call you like...

tuna

(if u cant tell im tired)

he loves when you get along with addi(me)

he'd probably love motionless in white if he was a metalhead

but he defo like Elvis, The Crests, Beach Boys, etc.

HE WOULD HATE THE MINIONS MOVIES

IDK WHY HE JUST WOULD

his fav princess would be Ariel

im not sure why

he'd js be like "ugh im so her"

Like.

Ponyboy

Michael

Curtis

get yo shi together

he definitely smells like cigs and lavender old spice

hes a sucker

his favourite flavour anything is grape or banana.

NSFW >:)

he's a sucker for braiding ur hair (if its long) or just tugging on it in general

motherclucker knows your weak spots on ur neck and stomach

this man wld mess up ur makeup

ofc he believes in aftercare unlike

*cough cough* dallas *cough cough*

hes a praise guy. hates degrading you.

pony would probably do the "bop it" position

js like ol dally taught him😋

he loves boobs.😋

like when youre getting undressed this man is like baffled

"whatd you get on the scie- woah.😍"

"they looked at me first, Y/N."

He loves sluttying (is that a word) up your nickname

Like for example

with my name, addi, he'd probably get in my ear and whine it

but thats my brother.

ANYWAYS

he loves being called puppy

or even you js sayin pony

hes like a switch

turned on

im so severely tired and dehydrated.

okay bye i love u all goldens 🫶

39 notes · View notes

poisonouswritings · 2 years

Note

Nsfw ahead!!

*sopping wet from the rain, crawling over the threshold of your house*

Ozzy.ozzy look me in my eyes ozzy. Do you think sage uses his belt to tie MC's hands back ozzy. And then sits them in his lap. And theN-

Im gunna go find a well to crawl into and die now 🤡

-egg anon

[Lying but the rage is real] TUMBLR IF YOU DELETE THIS I STG I WILL DELETE MY BLOG

Also it is 2:15 as I try to post this rip my sleep schedule

Edited for typos

Egg this is what I imagine you look like

But like,, yknow,,, an egg

Anyways you’ve piqued my interest so let’s go!

GN!Reader, brief mention of alcohol (you’re at a tavern), straight up smut (kinks include: light bondage, public/outdoor, (slight) degradation + praise, brat/tamer dynamic, cum/creampie, possessiveness/jealousy, biting/marking), red text = Sage’s speech/POV, I was high as I wrote this so hopefully it's coherent

You like to be a brat sometimes.

Today had been hours and hours of running and fighting your way through the streets of Porrima, tracking a gang of bounties and apprehending them all by sundown. So much exercise has given you a little runner’s high, a pleasant tingle coursing all through your body as you and Sage head to the Runny Eye for a nightcap. You make your way to the usual booth while he saunters to the bartop to order. Your eyes are drawn to his swaying tail. It’s a little difficult to get a look at his ass when he’s wearing that crimson duster but when his tail curls in a particular way, you can get a glimpse of it.

God you wanna smack that right now.

For a few minutes you lose yourself to daydreams about the various ways you would tease and torture your favorite cat-eared mercenary. When you finally do snap back to reality, though, he still isn’t back. In fact he’s talking pleasantly to someone.

Well. Your need for chaos has been awoken.

Into the conversation you promptly insert yourself. By which I mean you slide between the two, blindly reaching back and curling your fingers through Sage’s belt loops. While you smile sweetly and introduce yourself as Sage’s partner/mate/whatever, you press Sage’s hips against your ass. His ears pin flat and you can hear him hiss softly in surprise. His hands reflexively grip your hips, but there’s no way he can make any kind of movement without making it obvious what you’re doing.

So he has to grit his teeth and bare it as you teasingly grind your ass against him. It doesn’t take long at all for his shaft - snuggled between your ass cheeks - to swell and press against you. You do your best not to laugh.

You find out this person is another sellsword who’s worked a few missions with Sage in the past. And that’s :) fun :) because now you can ask them to tell embarrassing stories about Sage. He’s not thrilled about this turn of events but he’s a little too preoccupied with the tightness in his pants to protest. The slight squeeze to your hips and the way his fangs lightly graze your skin when he goes to kiss your cheek tells you that you’ll probably be getting punished for this later

Well you might as well have fun with it, right?

So you keep subtly grinding up against him. His tail wraps around your upper leg, so high up that it brushes against your crotch. The tufted, soft, fluffy tip of his tail wags against your inner thighs. It nearly tickles. When you push back against him out of nowhere, or move your hips in a certain way, you can hear a whimper dying in his throat. Whenever you laugh at a particularly funny part of the other sellsword’s story, and your body shakes, Sage’s breath stutters.

But all too soon - though not soon enough for Sage - the other merc slams their drink back, settles their tab, bids you both goodnight, and takes off. And now you’ve got to deal with Sage on your own. Based on how.. eh… stiff he is (and the tiny relieved sigh you just barely manage to catch), you’d have to guess that he was about [ ] this close to bending you over the nearest table and fucking you then and there. You’re actually impressed he didn’t drag you away from the conversation earlier. But that just means he has something up his sleeve that’s too exciting for him to compromise on. You’re not sure whether you’re more anxious or excited.

Probably… probably excited….

Sage waves to the barkeep to put the drinks on his tab (luckily neither of you had more than a tankard of ale so the barkeep allows it) and drags you along. He keeps you squarely in front of him, holding you by the waist and steering you into the back alley.

You’ve been back here a few times in your friskier moments. It’s a fair bit dingy. The smell of liquor sits heavily in the air. The wall Sage pushes you up against is cold against your chest and cheek.

With one hand he grabs your wrists and holds them behind your back. With the other he undoes his belt. You can hear the tinkle of metal and sliding of leather and for a heart-leapping moment you think Sage is going to drop his pants right here and now.

But he doesn’t. Instead he expertly creates a pair of makeshift handcuffs, pulling the tail snug and creating a little leash of sorts for him to keep a hold of.

Once it’s secure he sets his free hand on your waist and leans around so he can see your face. “That alright?”

You tug testingly on the binding. It’s not tight enough to hurt or anything but definitely snug enough to keep you in place. You look back at him and nod, playfully wiggling your hands. “Yeah, ‘s fine.”

“Safeword?”

“Mm… sassafras!”

Sage hesitates for a moment. Hides a snicker in the back of your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you against his chest. Whether it’s because he’s amused or he's just having one of those random bursts of affection he gets, you aren’t sure. He rubs his cheek up against yours. Though his cock does rub up against you, you know it isn’t intentional. He’s scent-marking you. He does it every time you’re about to walk into the marketplace, since it’s usually so busy.

…. Oh.

Your heart is racing as he pulls away, keeping a firm hold of your little leash. He gives a little nudge to your shoulder.

“Walk.”

His voice is a low growl.

A shudder runs down your spine as you comply.

It’s not the first time you and Sage have experimented with bondage in public. Usually it’s more subtle under-the-clothes type stuff, and you take a longer route that keeps you away from any crowds. But this time, since it’s already kinda late and the marketplace is mostly empty, Sage directs you right through the heart of Porrima. You can feel your heart starting to thump faster and faster the more in the open you are. While the way you’re tied up isn’t explicitly sexual, anyone who sees you will know full and well what’s going on. Especially when Sage is whispering in your ear, his breath hot and wet as he purrs about how much fun he’s gonna have with you later, asking if he should just fuck you here and now since you seem so desperate for it. Those things combined makes you feel naked, and that makes your knees tremble.

You stumble more than once. Whenever that happens, Sage brings you to the nearest wall to lean against and checks in to ask if you want to keep going. Every single time you promise him you’re fine, smooching his cheek to reassure him.

It’s as you two reach the city square that you finally do run into someone. Worse, it’s someone you know - a vendor from the market that you’re friendly with. Sometimes you run errands for them, and they give you discounts in return.

If they do notice the lowkey fetish play going on, they don’t comment. Sage immediately steps closer to you, chest brushing against your back, so maybe they didn’t see the cuffs? Either way you try to act as casually as possible while unable to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

You and this vendor have a bit of a playfully flirtatious relationship. You both know it means nothing. So does Sage (you’d obviously told him about it to ask if he was alright with it. Given how often he playfully flirts with Felix as a joke, he really doesn’t mind if you have a little fun). But when you hear the low growl rumbling through his chest and feel how he pulls you a little closer against him, you know he’s jealous.

…. >:)

You flirt back a bit. It’s hard to keep your voice level though with the way Sage is discreetly rubbing your sides. Again, it’s nothing explicitly sexual, but you squirm regardless.

Luckily you only need to hold out for a few minutes before your friend bids you and Sage both goodnight and goes on their merry way.

When you glance back at Sage, his eyes are dark. At first you think it might genuinely be anger, but then his tail drags up your torso and fluffs against the bottom of your chin and you realize it’s lust.

… Haha :) You’re in danger :)

While most of the Griefer’s old hideouts are underneath the city, there are a few out in the open; abandoned buildings that hold secret doors and that sorta thing. You’ve been to a few of them. This time Sage brings you to a little courtyard that you can only see by stepping on a specific rock. It’s simple and small has been left behind to be ravaged by time, vines growing along the stonework and a tree blossoming in the center of a cement ring. The ring is wide enough - and has a flat top - to serve as a makeshift bench.

Sage hasn’t spoken a word during this entire little fieldtrip. You’ve tried to goad him a bit - asking him what it is he’s planning and how long you have to wait and that sorta thing - but the most you’ve gotten for your efforts is some growling and a few snaps of his fangs against your neck and shoulder. Are you more scared or horny?

…… probably horny.

Sage hesitates for a long moment once you reach the threshold of the plaza, keeping one hand on your waist and resting the other on the pommel of his sword. His ears swivel to and fro and his nose twitches slightly when he sniffs the air as he scans for intruders.

You take the momentary distraction as an opportunity to stick your tongue out and lick his cheek.

His tail flicks in surprise, his grip on you tightening for a moment as you break his concentration. Though he’s trying to play the part of the unrelenting dominant, he can’t help but break into a laugh. “What the hells was that for?”

“I missed your cute smile. It makes me happy.”

His laughter quickly trails off to a barely-audible whimper of embarrassment, ears pinning against his hair as his cheeks heat up. He looks away but you can hear the smile in his voice. “...brat.”

You hum in agreement, leaning your head back to rub your cheek against his. His purr seems to roll through your body, settling your nerves and letting the heat of your excitement flutter pleasantly through you.

Sage leads you over to the stone circle and sits down, spinning you around so you’re facing him and pulling you onto his lap. Your legs are spread on either side of his hips, and your groin is rubbing against his erection. You let out a low moan and immediately try to rock against him for friction, but he quickly grips your hips to hold you in place. When you let out a complaining whine he bares his fangs in a grin.

Did you forget this was a punishment? Of course you did. It’s cute how excited you get whenever he teases you. He uses one hand to keep you in place and the other to slowly drag your top (and bra/binder if you have one) up your torso so he can see your naked skin. He looks up at you and leans forward to nip playfully at your chest. Aw, do you wanna touch him? Too bad you’re all tied up :3 It’s a punishment after all. But maybe you can convince him…

:) Luckily you know you have a skilled tongue.

Sage helps you to your knees, unzipping his pants but leaving them still on. Ugh, he just wants to see you struggle. You consider sticking your tongue out at him but decide not to push your luck. Not yet, anyways. So you put on your determined face and use your teeth to ineffectually try to pull his pants down.

It only takes a minute or two for Sage to get his giggles out before he relents and helps you out, wiggling out of his pants and boxers. You take the chance to snuggle up to his inner thigh, ignoring his little cat-like beep of surprise as your cheek presses against him.

Then he chuckles and runs his fingers through your hair. Fuck, it’s so hot when you’re all needy for him. You must wanna get off so bad to be dropping to your knees out in the open like that. Aren’t you worried about getting caught? Or are you really that eager for his cock that you just don’t care?

When you look up at him, it’s like being trapped in amber. The heat burning through your body makes you feel light-headed. It’s even worse when his cock practically touches your nose. He’s clearly been leaking precum for a little bit, and some of it drools lazily from the tip and towards the floor. You’re quick enough to bend down and catch it on your tongue, then lean up and open your mouth wide to take the first two or three inches of his shaft. You suck and bob your head back and forth a few times until you’ve got a decent amount of precum in your mouth. Then slip off him with a pop and open your mouth so he can see. Then swallow. Then open your mouth again so he can see you didn’t waste any of it.

…. Fuck. Sage’s face is red and he’s panting as he tugs on your hair, pulling you to your feet and into a needy, passionate kiss.

Your wrists strain against the belt as you impulsively try to reach for him, letting out a little grunt of frustration as you realize you can’t scratch behind his ears in that special way that always makes him purr. The pang of helplessness you feel only pushes you to press your body up impatiently against his, straddling his left thigh.

He quickly breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips and lifting you off his leg, leaving you squirming and bitching in frustration. He’s panting pretty heavily himself as he spreads your legs once again, leaving you prone and vulnerable and writhing for his touch.

And that’s exactly how he wants you. He slowly starts trailing his middle finger up and down your crotch. It’s just warm enough for you to feel through your bottoms but not nearly enough to help you get off. Your whine of frustration makes his ears quiver. That’s it, baby, that’s what he wants from you. He wants you to beg for him. Tell him how much you need him - his cock - his cum - inside you. You’re his and he’s gonna remind you of that.

It doesn’t take much to convince him, of course. All you really have to do is give him a needy look and whimper out his name and he’s pulling you against his chest, biting at your neck and collarbones and shoulders as he works to get your bottoms off. You wriggle against your makeshift handcuffs in some vain attempt to help.

He pauses - as always - at your entrance (whether it be his cock pressed against you or his fingers, lubed by the little tube he carries around in his pocket and ready to stretch you out) and looks up at you expectantly.

It takes you several long moments to notice, but when you do you perk up slightly to show him you’re in enough control of yourself to properly keep going. “B-banana!”

He hums in approval, nipping and leaving an array of hickeys on your collar bones where you’re particularly sensitive. Then slowly pushes inside you, eyes fluttering closed as he gradually guides you down. It takes a minute for your ass to finally meet the tops of his thighs, and you both make noises - you grunt and he hisses. You can feel yourself throb around him and him throb inside of you and that’s nearly enough to make you cum then and there. The only reason you don’t is because you don’t want it to be over yet.

Sage is having a similar problem. For a minute or two he just closes his eyes and tries to settle down. You’ve been teasing him all day with the running and fighting and close contact, and obviously everything that went down at the tavern. He doesn’t wanna cum too early. So he just keeps speckling you with kisses and bites, sliding one hand between you two and running his fingers teasingly up and down your sex while being careful not to rock his hips. Gods he nearly forgot how amazing it feels to be inside you. You’re absolutely perfect. And no one else gets to touch you like this. You’re all his.

Once you both manage to settle down a little bit, he relaxes his hold on your hips and reminds you this is still a punishment. You’ll have to work for his cum.

It’s a massive challenge without the use of your hands but Sage is kind enough to help you keep your balance as you rock your hips back and forth. It’s a lot of work. You’re gonna run out of core strength soon. You squeak this out to Sage in between whines and whimpers.

Of course he already knew this would happen. He gives your ass a light spank and finally pulls away from your throat and leaves a mess of pinkening hickeys in his wake. You’re so eager to fuck him, huh? It’s so fucking cute… no one else could get you this turned on, right? Of course not. Because you’re his. He finally starts to bounce you up and down his shaft, your ass clapping against his thighs and wet squelches filling the air as you two fall into an eager rhythm. Fuck you take his cock so well. You were made to take his cock, weren’t you baby? Of course you were. You’re his, and he’s yours, and he’s not gonna let anyone take you away. So moan for him. Doesn’t matter if somebody is walking by and overhears. In fact, Sage wants people to hear you screaming his name, wants everyone to know just how good you’re getting it. Because you’re his, right? He drills his hips into you like he’s planning on literally pounding the answer into your head.

He needs to hear you scream his name.

So. Well. you do. You let your head fall back and your back arch and your toes curl and your wrists strain and your fists clench and cry out for him as the pleasure hits you hard enough to make your ears pop. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts for him to press as firmly against you as he can, pouring his hot cum deep inside and wrapping himself around your body like he has to lay claim to every inch.

And for an eternity you two are lost in the sensation of each other.

But that moment, as all of them do, eventually crumbles away into the next. Exhaustion and soreness starts to trickle into your awareness. Sage whispers endless praise against your skin - "you did such a good job, he’s so proud of you, fuck he can’t get over how hot you are with his cock nestled inside you and your face all cum-drunk" - and slowly helps you slump against him.

His fingertips seem to tingle as he tries to undo the handcuffs. It takes a few times for him to actually be able to do it, slowly and carefully unwinding it before setting it to the side. Then he gently grabs both of your hands so he can study your wrists. The skin is clearly irritated from rubbing against the leather of the belt (which doesn’t come as a surprise, considering it has no proper padding) but it should fade in a day or two. There’s medicine back at Fathom if you need it. But all the same he brushes his lips gently along the insides of your wrists and looks up at you. His eyes are bright and warm and soft, and he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the universe. To him, you are. “You okay?”

“‘M… ‘m good…” you pant back. You're still a little too fucked-out to make big words. You shudder when he slowly pulls his softening cock out of you. It takes much longer that you’d have expected for you to feel his cum slowly leaking out. You half-consider catching some on your finger and licking it off just to tease him again, but you don’t have another round in you. “Y…you?”

He purrs softly in agreement. Gods he’s so warm. It’d be so… easy…. To fall… asleep… and yo…u… kn…o…w Sage… would c…arry y…ou… … …

Sage is watching as you drift into sleep, hands still feebly gripping his arms. He smiles softly and carefully stands up, half-assedly dressing himself with one hand while balancing you in the other. He doesn’t even bother putting his jacket on, instead just wrapping you up in it so he doesn’t have to fumble with your pants. Then he finally starts to walk back to Fathom, a satisfied sway in every swish of his tail.

#last legacy #fictif last legacy #sage lesath #sage lesath x reader #fictif sage #last legacy sage #fren asks #ozzy answers #ozzy daydreams

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historia-gloria · 2 years

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Okay probably no one cares but I’ve got takes so here they are:

The Town-On-Gorkhon but make it DND!

Artemy Burakh is a tiefling, with skin the colour of freshly spilled blood. His horns are large, bull-like, but there is a sliver of light that connects them, like a halo. He has cloven hooves like a cow and a long tufted tail. All of the other Burakhs were aasimars. He's a cleric of Mother Boddho like his father wanted, but he's a War Domain cleric. Artemy is everything the Burakhs wanted, and yet none of it. He was often called half cursed, half blessed for his appearance.

Daniil Dankovsky is a half Drow, with gently pointed ears and skin with a deep purple tint. His father was a Drow, his mother a human. Part of the reason he wanted to conquer death is he won't get his father's near immortality. His father was insistent on him following the family path of monkhood and battlefield work, but Daniil refused, falling out badly with his father after his mother died. He decided to study necromancy to try to understand death better. He feels like neither part of the human world nor the elven one.

Clara is not, in fact, a changeling. She's a kalashtar with a very stubborn and unruly second soul. She appears human, aside from her hair which is pure, brilliant white. She has no memory before finding herself in the Town-On-Gorkhon, assuming her second soul was controlling her then. She is a celestial patron warlock, tied to the concepts of miracles. She is a pact of the Tome warlock, well studied.

The Saburovs and the Olgimskys are human families, though Victoria the White Mistress was an elf. Both Capella and Vlad the younger are half elven. Capella takes after her mother, a prophecy cleric worshipping the idea of Fate itself.

The Kains are a high elven family, but even then, Simon Kain had made it nearly 100 years past a century. Khan feels awkward about his elven nature but he's nearly a hundred now and very wise for it.

The Town-On-Gorkhon is mainly human, half elven and elven, with a general sprinkling of other races.

Taya Tycheek is a minotaur, born to human parents and thus is a miracle to the Kin. It has happened a few times and always has been viewed as an omen of great change that they shall need a strong leader to survive through. She will be a druid given a little more time.

Grace is a kalashtar grave cleric, focused on putting the dead to rest correctly. She holds more power than she thinks.

Notkin is a tabaxi rogue. Tabaxi are rare and he compensated for that with the gang, surrounding himself with kids who trust him.

Sticky is a dragonborn alchemist, one of very few dragonborn in the town. He's a black dragonborn which helps him remain unseen commonly.

Murky is a tiefling druid, with yellowy skin, the colour of swevery petals. Her parents were human. She is second only to Taya in being able to understand Mother Boddho and has similar bull-like horns to Artemy.

Lara Ravel is half elven, from a family of half elves. Her father taught her how to fight early on and she keeps her knowledge and her weapons sharp. She’s a battle master fighter.

Stakh Rubin is human. He wanted to be a cleric, like Isidor, but he could not understand Isidor's faith in Mother Boddho and so could never be the healer he wanted to be.

Bad Grief is a gnomish rogue. His tiny fingers are light and playful, never straying completely from the law, even in his underground tradings and gangs.

Yulia is a wood elf, fitting in easily with the high minded elites of the Kains. She is of middling age, giving her a very unique concept of Fate and time.

Anna Angel is a human, though she is desperate to act as though she is fey in some way. The woman she stole her face and voice from was a Changeling woman.

Foreman Oyun is also human, though he constantly wears a bull mask and pretends as though he is a minotaur to keep his place in the Kin. Artemy finds this out towards the end. He is a zealot barbarian.

Peter and Andrey Stamatin are metallic dragonborns, both of them are artificers, with a level in sorcerer. Peter is a silver dragonborn and Andrey is a bronze dragonborn. They and Sticky are the only dragonborns in the town.

Eva Yan is also human, though much happier than Anna Angel. She has a single level in cleric, dedicated to the Cathedral as a space of faith.

Aspity is a changeling druid, connected again to Mother Boddho, but she is not blessed in the way that Murky and Artemy are.

Aglaya Lilich is half elven, which she often used to manipulate Daniil whilst she was in the Town-On-Gorkhon.

Alexander Block is also human, which he has used to throw weight around over the less human healers, especially Artemy.

The Fellow Traveller is a dwarf, the only one in the one within the Town-On-Gorkhon. He is playful and smirking and knows way too much. He's a rogue, with a very good knowledge of the fourth wall.

Mark Immortell is a red Lizardfolk, who is always knows far too much. He's a college of eloquence bard with several levels in divination wizard.

The Kin are separate races, with the Herb Brides being Saytrs, known for their dancing. The Worms are Earth Genasi, carved from Mother Boddho herself. The Butchers are Goliaths, taught in druidic ways to know the lines. They're more druidic than clerical in their worship.

#pathologic #pathologic 2 #dnd #the changeling #the haruspex #the bachelor #clara #daniil dankovsky #artemy burakh

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 1 year

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Bad Boy Masterlist

"Ah, sorry Doll." (ao3) - cliff0rd michael/luke T, 4k

Summary: Luke is a shy, quiet boy who works in a small Café and Bad boy Mikey just loves seeing him blush.

Arthurian Romances (ao3) - therjolras michael/ashton T, 5k

Summary: Ashton's in a bit of a tangle when he's rescued by a purple-haired knight-in-leather-jacket.

baby i'm gonna drink you in like oxygen (ao3) - booksteaandcake luke/ashton N/R, 1k

Summary: bad boy ashton has taken young luke hemmings under his wing. it's kind of a surprise when they sleep together... but also not a surprise at all.

'“I’m not wrecking you.” Ashton scoffed, “I’m going to take care of you.”'

do the things that you'd only read about (ao3) - heartbreakgirl michael/luke N/R, 5k

Summary: When he looks over, Michael's eyes are open and he's grinning from ear to ear.

“I love you.”

He smiles shyly, eyes rolling fondly. “I love you too, Michael.”

or, book worm Luke & bad boy Michael

every now and then the stars align (ao3) - merlypops luke/calum E, 3k

Summary: 'The sheer force of the love unfurling in Luke’s chest took his breath away often but he liked it that way, liked being reminded by his pulse thundering in his veins that Calum was his, and that he loved Luke back.'

Calum gets in trouble a lot, Luke's had a bad life, and Calum would do anything to keep him safe. Anything at all.

Feeling Naughty (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance michael/calum E, 2k

Summary: Calum is giving himself too much freedom and Michael is mad. Now, it's up to Calum make it up to him.

fight so dirty but your love's so sweet (ao3) - softirwin luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 11k

Summary: Luke hates a good ninety-five percent of his job.

A solid thirty percent of that comes from the fact that he works as a receptionist at a hotel, which he thinks is possibly the most thankless job humanity could possibly have created. A further ten comes from the fact that his desk is right next to the kitchen, meaning mouth-watering smells are constantly wafting under his nose, and Luke’s not allowed to eat on shift.

Fifty-five percent of it, though, is Ashton.

written for the prompt 'lashton bad boy'

Have Faith In This Fragile World (ao3) - SilentlyFighting michael/calum, luke/ashton N/R, 19k

Summary: Michael Clifford is well known in his school, not for being popular, far from it, he is the nerd. The goody-two-shoes hasn't had the best past but his peers do not know this and a couple of the football team decide that he is their next target. A mysterious group of boys make an appearance, saving him multiple times, and when Michael runs out of money to buy food, they even find ways to get him food.

The boys do not scare him that much but they certainly catch his attention. Michael learns the names of two of the boys but the leader is set to keep his identity a secret. But, when Michael has another run in with the football team and they use him as bait, will the boys identity reveal itself?

Mr. H (ao3) - jeepies luke/ashton G, 3k

Summary: Luke is The Joker and Ashton is Harley Quinn

Pull Up in Your Fast Car Whistlin' My Name (ao3) - blakecoffeeandcigarettes luke/ashton E, 3k

Summary: "What seems to be the problem officer?" Luke asked, making sure to raise his voice a couple of octaves higher as he fiddled with the hem of his dress, revealing the hot pink, lace edge of his panties.

say you want me and dont be nice (send those shivers running down my spine) (ao3) - orphan_account michael/calum N/R, 5k

Summary: :+: Calum and Michael are in gangs, and when Calum gets slightly turned on by the gun in Michael's hands, things get dirty :+:

snap backs and tattoos (ao3) - crankgameplays michael/calum N/R, 3k

Summary: Calum Hood is 16, almost 17, when hes warned to stay away from Michael Clifford. His dad catches a gaze of him from the kitchen window and hes got a new tattoo that's wrapped around his pale arm and there's tufts of pink hair peeking out from his snap back and oh my fucking god is that a fucking eyebrow piercing. Calum has died and gone to heaven. Or hell. Maybes hes being a little dramatic. Whatever. But his dad turns to him and he goes,

"Calum, I want you to stay away from that Clifford boy," pointing a finger in the direction of his son. "Hes no good." And Calum nods and mumbles, yes dad, and walks to his room and that's that.

But really. No one ever listens to their dads.

We're like noughts and crosses (ao3) - emptygoldss michael/calum G, 1k

Summary: it’s like Michael’s made of glass and Calum turns him to sand.

Yeah, I Want You Baby (ao3) - flowercrownmikey michael/luke M, 4k

Summary: "That what you wanna do, princess? Fuck the delinquent right outta me?"

OR// Officer! Luke and Bad Boy! Michael.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #badboy #badboy masterlist #badboy!ashton #badboy!calum #badboy!luke #badboy!michael #masterlists

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littlelyarts · 2 years

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Think small with the fire gang :)

ID / A drawing of the artist as a Firey, a creature from Jim Henson's Labyrinth. They are a humanoid creature with pale skin and a lanky body, with large pointed ears, beak like structures on their face and mouth, and tufts of flame colored feathers throughout their body. The artist drawn as one doing a leaned in pose with their hands out and mouth open, tongue flailing out. they have large green eyes with rectangular pupils. their feathered areas are on their elbows, upper chest, upper thighs, and ankles, along with head feathers being reminiscent of hair with bangs. / End ID

#labryinth #jim henson #firey #my art

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darker-dc-dimensions · 1 year

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Jason Todd

Arkham Locked

Emojis used: ⚰️🧪

(this image is just a placeholder for now)

General Information

First name: Jason

Middle name(s): Peter

Surname: Todd

Age: somewhere around 19-20

Date of birth: August 16

Race: Mixed. Hispanic on his mother’s side. Catherine was also Hispanic.

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Current residence: Arkham Asylum, the street

Relationship status: Single

Social status: unknown at this point

Universe (AU universe of origin): Arkham Locked

Traits of Voice

Accent (if any): Crime alley accent

Language spoken: English

Other languages known: Spanish, Russian, French, German, Japanese, Cantonese, Turkish, Arabic, League of assassin’s dialect, Mandarin, Latin, Portuguese, Hebrew, Thai, Vietnamese, Kryptonian (the basics), Ancient Greek, Sign language. (Most taught to him by Bruce Wayne)

Volume of voice: speaks at a very low volume, mumbling and whispering most of the time when he finally does speak.

Physical Appearance

Height: 6´0

Eye colour: Bright Lazarus green

Skin colour: Pale from lack of sunlight for a very long amount of time

Distinguishing features: His eyes as they are an almost glowing green. The scars littering his body, autopsy scars, a J carved into his cheek, the white part in his hair.

Build of body: Hes tall and skinnier than he was in the past as red hood, this comes form lack of food, drink, and sleep. He’s been starved for a longer time in Arkham, but the Lazarus pit keeps him muscular to some degree.

Hair colour: Black with a white tuft in the front. Used to have dark red hair as a kid but started coloring it at around 9. It became naturally black after the Lazarus pit.

Hair style: a medium length hairstyle, mainly because he hasn’t had a haircut in a while. Its not too long but it gets in his eyes, curls around his ears, and runs down his neck. Shaggy and dirty hair.

Tattoos: None

Piercings: Has his ears pierced but hasn’t worn them in a long time

Typical clothing: The Arkham inmate uniform, a stained white t-shirt underneath. Scuffed black shoes. All his clothes are stained with mainly dry blood.

Is seen by others as: A mindless bloodthirsty beast, though Jason is mostly tame if you don’t attack him first. A killer with little care for others existence, but in reality, Jason doesn’t even go out of his way to kill he just relies in his instincts.

Health

Sleeping habits: Sleeps very little because sleeping means you are vulnerable

Energy level: Has a medium energy level, since the Lazarus pit keeps him going

Eating habits: Eats whatever they are given at Arkham. After getting out he just eats whatever he comes across, eats human flesh as well.

Memory: He remembers picture perfectly, which only fuels the fear and anger making the Lazarus pit even more powerful. His perfect memory makes him remember all the horrible things done to him clearly as well.

Any unhealthy habits: too many honestly, starving himself, extreme insomnia, self-harming, etc.

Relationships

Parents: Willis Todd (birth parent), Catherine Todd (Step mother), Sheila Haywood (Birth parent), Bruce Wayne (Adoptive Father)

Siblings: Dick Grayson (adopted), Tim Drake (Adopted), Damian Wayne (Adopted), Cassandra Caine (Adopted), Duke Thomas (Adopted), Stephanie Brown (Adopted), Jean-Paul Valley (Adopted in spirit but not on paper)

Any enemies (and why): Too many, the Batfam (though its mainly only Bruce since the others don’t know he’s alive), multiple gang leaders, etc.

Children: none

Friends: none

Best friend(s): Used to be best friends with a guy named Ji Yeong, but they haven’t been in much contact since Jason was taken in by Bruce and lost contact after Jason died.

Important friends/relatives (explain): doesn’t have any

Love interest (if there is one): he used to have a crush on Ji Yeong when they were kids and up until he died, nowadays Jason doesn’t focus on feelings much anymore.

Combat

Peaceful or violent: He’s peaceful for the most part as long as you leave him alone.

Weapon (if applicable): Mainly his hands and teeth. Uses super strength and the abilities given by the Lazarus pit to fight.

Style of fighting: Its more compared to an animal than any kind of real fighting knowledge, there’s some style in there after being trained by Bruce and the League of assassins, but he relies mainly on instinct and the Lazarus pit.

Others

Occupation: unemployed

Current home: Arkham asylum, where he can sleep when he’s out.

Favourite types of food: Tamales, Elotes, Birria (most kinds tbh), most stews and soups, Shakshuka

Favourite types of drink: Carbonated drinks of most kinds. Hot chocolate (specifically the one Alfred makes)

Hobbies/past times: Doesn’t have any hobbies at this point, likes to recite poems and books he’s read to himself under his breath as it helps ground him.

Guilty pleasures: Fast food, the greasier the better. Street food.

Pet peeves: When people try to touch or grab him. Having to speak too much or focus too hard.

Pets: doesn’t have any pets.

Favourite colours: red, Lazarus green.

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