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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Part 3 for Nikto with his… handler? Living god? Owner? Who knows, certainly not the reader.

Content: Sexual Desire (Wet Dreams), Codependency, Mild Injury/Violence, Mentions of Dissociation

Snuggle in, you tell him. Every night, clockwork, a signal to calm, settle, rest. Leave the blood and bone of the day behind.

Like he’s not a man who barely remembers he’s alive most days. Like he doesn’t turn to you blooming human, a plant to sunlight. All because you tell him to.

Snuggle in, you bid, tugging at his thick bicep. Your fingers don’t even curl halfway around it. He’s huge, even without all the gear. Or maybe because he's out of his gear.

Snuggle in, you coo. A guilty part of you preens at the way his head cocks at that turn of phrase. He never hesitates to climb into the bed you’ve shared since he made himself yours. There’s really no choice but to snuggle on such a small mattress, but he still lets you move him, teddy bear-like, to the most comfortable position.

“You’re warm,” you hum, because he needs to remember his heart is beating, pumping blood. That he’s not a corpse.

“Too warm?” He asks.

“No,” you sigh happily.

He lies on his side tonight, always between you and the door. You pluck at the front of his t-shirt, urging him closer, away from the edge of the bed. It feels like you’re constantly coaxing him away from an edge. He always comes willingly at least.

His heavy arm drapes across your waist, as robotic as a cuddle can be. You don’t mind, he’s still getting used to this. Knows how to provide you comfort but not how to take it in for himself. He'll settle, you know, always does. Virtues of sleep melting all his harsh, rigid lines.

You wrap both your legs around one of his. Rock-like muscle flexes, twitches, settles. He’s wearing just his underwear and a t-shirt; he’s hard again.

You understand why he said no. Aren’t even all that disappointed. Not for your own sake, anyway. For his, perhaps a little. Wish he’d treat his body with more than just obligation, but small steps. One at a time. For now, you’ve got him here, warm, his breaths already lengthening in preparation to sleep.

You stroke your hand along his ribs like soothing a horse. It’s more for yourself than him, a silent affirmation that you’re both here and safe and bedding down for the night. Count the bumps of scars - one… two-three, four… and five. Five-and-a-half at his hip.

His cock twitches against your lower stomach. It feels thick. Big. You squeeze his hip and tuck your arm between your bodies again.

“Were you ever ticklish?” you ask.

“No.”

You snort in amusement and press your forehead to his chest. Feel his heart beating slow-steady. Always so, so calm. Inhumanly so. You never fall into the trap of letting yourself think he’s anything but a man.

“What do you want to dream about tonight?” you pipe up again.

You don’t know why you’ve started asking this. Maybe to remind him that he’s not dying for a short while. Maybe to figure out something of his mind, still so unfathomable to you. Maybe just to get his voice in your ear as one last nightcap.

“Winter,” he answers. “Snow.”

You make a soft noise. “I think I want to dream of that too.”

You do dream of winter, and snow. You dream of green-black trees and swathes of frost crystal. And you dream of Nikto. A smudge of black with ice chips for eyes.

You reach for him, drag him down to a pillow of snow with you. Even in sleep, he yields for you, doughy and soft. Drapes himself over you, clucking about the temperature until you shush him with kisses snuck between his shirt and mask. You press and pull, want him close, want him...

"Are you alright?"

You blink into the darkness, at ice chip eyes and a patchwork jaw of scars and stubble. Nikto's mouth is pressed thin, worried. A canine peaks out from a scar that healed poorly despite your best efforts, skin tugged back into a permanent little snarl. His canines always look so sharp.

"You were... having nightmare?" He drops articles when he’s tired. You must have woken him. Part of you despairs at ruining his sleep; he gets so little of it.

You lick your dry lips, swallow past an equally dry throat. There's a noticeable stickiness between your thighs. A needy ache throughout your pelvis. You're nearly shaking.

"Um," you rasp, rubbing at your face. "Not a... it was just intense."

His brow furrows a bit. This tiny line that emphasizes a jagged mark over his forehead. You trace over it absently, nearly grind down on his thigh again when you see how his pupils dilate further.

"Alright?" he asks again. Always so worried. So expressive with you, for you.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you sit up slowly, carefully. He sits back with you, eyes sharp as he looks for injuries, as if someone snuck in and attacked you while he slept. "Just need a drink."

He makes room for you to climb out of bed. You wish you could grab a spare pair of underwear on your way, but you can feel his eyes burning on your back. Don't want him to feel... pressured? Awkward? You swallow your lust and stumble into the bathroom.

A cold splash of water shocks you more awake but also cools your blood.

It’s been a long time since you got yourself off. Nikto all but lives in your pocket now; and whenever you do have privacy, you’re usually too tired to bother with getting off. Some days it’s all you can do to brush your teeth before collapsing in bed.

Not right now though. Right now you want to do sinful things to the man who’s entrusted you with his fragile psyche.

Fuck.

You rub at your eyes, discard of your soaked panties in the hamper. You’ll grab a new pair in the morning and just spend the rest of the night commando.

When you climb into bed again, Nikto is still wide awake, waiting for your return. You crawl in with him, chilled now.

“Better?” He asks, almost hesitant.

The heat of him seeps into you like honey, a sweet drizzle down your spine, diffusing through your bones. Sleep is already dragging at you again.

“Mhm,” you sigh. You don’t wrap your legs around him this time. But you can’t help hooking your calf around his, ankles locked together.

“Alright,” he whispers, almost to himself.

You hum, fingers curling loose around his wrist. “Settle in, Nikto. I’m okay.”

You fall asleep with your head against his tricep. This time you dream of nesting birds.

—

Anger, like most strong emotion, is something you thought a bit beyond Nikto. Not that he doesn’t feel it, more that the dissociation mutes it all. Makes it into something vague in his mind, a vivid color desaturated to pastel.

You were wrong. Or maybe you’re right in every other instance except this one.

The circumstances brew up a storm like so:

Kortac has sent you (and by default, Nikto) with a small team to yet another military base. Mundane by all accounts.

You and Nikto bunk together, also by default. (“Snuggle in,” you chide as he glares at the door. It’s not your door; it’s not your base. It makes him twitchy. It even seems like he hesitates for a moment before climbing in.)

You, by virtue of being novel and shiny and discouraged, are viewed as a tempting commodity. Think you even hear one of the men you’re supposed to be working with mutter “dibs” to someone else. Also pretty mundane.

What is not mundane is someone seeing Nikto at your side and apparently thinking, that’s a place I want to insert myself uninvited.

The clouds roll in at the gym. You’re setting up the squat rack while Nikto finishes up his last set of pull-ups. (You’re trying not to ogle. You might be failing.)

Someone sidles up to behind you, just in the corner of your eye. Standing closer than a perfect stranger should. You think it’s Aksel and turn, wondering if he’s already done with cardio. Instead, you find a man you’re only mildly acquainted with.

You’ve run some drills with him, saw him in a briefing two days ago. But you’re generally so wrapped up in the microcosm you and Nikto have formed that you don’t even remember his name.

“Need a spotter?” He asks, smiling.

You shift your weight back, trying to put more distance between you two. It’s strange. Nikto stands even closer than he is on a regular basis and you’d feel bereft if he didn’t. But this… feels invasive.

“No, I have someone,” you reply, perfectly polite. “But thank you.”

“Ah, you mean the Nobody?” The man chuckles. You clench your teeth. “Someone else ought to get a turn, no? Your teammates said you are not romantic.”

You frown. Whatever they said, you’re sure that was not the verbatim answer. You don’t know what you and Nikto are — it’s something that defies any language you know. But it’s certainly beyond “romantic”.

(Waking deep in the night, sweating and panting and aching for the man already awake, worried for you. Dreams plagued with pale blue eyes and scars that still ache. Phantom sensations of skin that only breathes in the safety of your room.)

“No,” you answer, “Nikto is my partner.”

A shadow passes behind him, Nikto returning to your side, faithful as always. His eyes don’t even flick towards the other man.

The man, however, locks eyes on him and sneers.

“What, does your guard dog bite?” He mocks. “You don’t owe it anything just because it humps your leg.”

Your temper flares, white hot and mean. “The only dog here is the one yapping for attention.”

Anger ripples across his face, he tenses like he’s going to move. The start of some derogatory name on his tongue.

And then between one blink and the next, he’s on the floor and Nikto is standing over him. Metal flashes beneath the lights; a wicked knife held in Nikto’s tight fist. The man isn’t getting back up any time soon though, he’s bleeding from… somewhere on his face. You can’t tell with the way he’s covering it.

“Knife away,” you tell Nikto quietly.

It’s gone in an instant.

You hook two fingers in a chest strap and tug. “We’re done in here.”

He follows you out, silent as ever. Follows without question or complaint until you stop between buildings. Let out a sigh.

“Fuck that guy,” you huff, running a hand down your face.

“I could still gut him,” he offers.

You’d laugh if you didn’t know he meant it wholeheartedly.

“He deserves it for what he said about you,” you mutter.

Nikto cocks his head, stares. Doesn’t understand, you realize.

You shake off the last of your ire and turn your full attention to him. Step in close and take his gloved hand in both of yours. The same one that had held the knife. There’s a little smear of blood on the knuckles.

“I don’t know what anyone says about me,” you explain. “You know who I am, and that’s all that matters.”

His eyes bounce between yours, something stunned in smooth skin around his eyes. You smile a bit.

“But what I won’t abide is anyone trying to take your humanity from you. Not ever again, you hear me?”

He mask moves like he wants to speak, but no sound comes out. You wait a moment to see if he’s just picking his words, but nothing comes. After a long moment, he just blinks, and you continue.

“You protect me, right?” He nods instantly. You tilt your head. “Well, I take care of you. You let me decide how to do that, yeah?”

His voice comes out shredded. “Yes.”

You hum, pleased. “C’mon, let’s get a bite to eat.”

#nikto x reader #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #cod nikto

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 1 month

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Will Graham X Reader: Nightcap

Summary: Will needs a little help going to sleep after a nightmare.

Warnings: not proof read, smut, cowgirl, oral (f & m receiving), penetration ( p in v), pet names (baby), cursing, nightmares, cum eating, no use of y/n.

Word count: 1,8 K

He’s sweating through his sheets.

Even in his hazy state he can feel the cold sweat that covers his body. He tries to wake himself up but his body refuses. He’s staring at the stag before him. The animal itself isn't threatening. It's the feelings that come with it that cause Will to shake in bed. He feels something grab onto his shoulder and turns to look at what was touching him. His eyes find you, your mouth is open wide as if you were screaming but no sound comes out. He calls out your name just as his body sinks into the ground.

Will snapped up from his bed, his heart hammering in his chest. His wet clothes cling to his body uncomfortably. He’s been in this situation before, the only difference is that this time he’s not alone. You're here with him. He feels bad for waking you up but he's glad he’s not alone. The palm of your hand warms his arm, causing him to stare at it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Nightmares.”

“Are they always that bad?”

Will stops staring at your hand on him opting to look at your face. You're looking at him like a wounded animal and he hates it. But he supposes it's better than looking at him like he’s crazy.

“Not always but yeah most of them are…”

“Intense?”

“That's a word for it.”

Of course the only night he has someone sleep over he has one of the worst nightmares he’s had in months. He must have been quite loud for you to be able to hear him from another room.

“Sorry for waking you.”

“You didn’t. I couldn’t sleep. I was on my way to get a cup of water when I heard you. You sounded scared so I thought maybe I should check on you.”

Your relationship with Will was odd. You weren’t exactly friends but you weren’t just coworkers either. You’d been helping him organize information for his next class and hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. Will hated the thought of you driving in the dark because of him so he offered you a place to crash.

It was the first time you’d truly seen Will. You helped him cook dinner and the two of you had shared a bottle of wine. You talked until your eyes started to feel heavy. Will showed you to your bed and bid you goodnight. It all felt very intimate. You weren’t sleeping in his bed but this was the closest you’d been to each other outside of work. Will didn’t really know how to behave around you. He’d flush when you said anything remotely flirty to him and he would often find himself observing you as you worked. He was fascinated by you but instead of telling you that he bottled his desire deep inside himself.

“Do you have more sheets?”

“Yeah in the closet.”

You moved over to the closet, searching for a fresh set of sheets. Will rose from the bed beginning to tug on the soaked sheets. He bundled the fabric in his hands before throwing it into the hamper. You made your way to him, handing him the clean sheets. The two of you worked together making the bed quickly. You pat Will's pillow lightly before moving away from the bed.

“There. Good as new!”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Silence fell over the room. You started at the bed wondering if anyone had ever had the pleasure of sharing the space with Will. Will watched you deep in thought. He used the opportunity to observe you. Your body was covered by one of his shirts. It was an old piece of clothing, worn down by time but you made it work. An overwhelming need to move closer towards you consumed him all of a sudden. He decided to act on it. He inched himself towards you slowly, not wanting to break your train of thought.

You didn’t notice him move. When you turned to look at him, expecting him to still be far from you, you bumped into him accidentally. The palms of your hands came in contact with his chest. Will looked down at where your body touched his. Before he could do anything you pulled away, creating some distance between you two. You let out a small laugh, stuttering a bit as you spoke.

“I’m gonna get out of your hair. Goodnight.”

You spun on your heels rolling your eyes at yourself. How could such a small amount of contact flustered you so much? Will reached out to you, his hand grabbing onto your arm. You felt the tug on your arm making you stop and turn.

“Stay.”

“We have work tomorrow. You need to sleep, Will.”

“I won't be able to fall asleep anytime soon. Stay with me. We can talk until we feel tired again.”

You knew you should say no but the way Will was looking at you: eyes glossy due to lack of sleep, hair tousled due to his abrupt awakening, lips slightly parted as he waited for your response, made it impossible. So you stayed.

What's the worst that could happen?

Things escalated quickly. You’d gone from talking about work, to intensely making out, to Will begging to eat you out in a matter of minutes.

And you let him.

Your hands curled into Will's curls as his tongue moved over your clit. His hands grab onto your thighs as you squirm beneath him.

“Will ah i can’t-”

“Come on just one more. You can do it baby.”

He’d said he needed to destress a bit before going to sleep again and what better way to take his mind off things than absolutely ravaging you with his tongue. He’d already made you cum twice but he needed to feel you spill your juices one more time. Just a bit more and he’d be satisfied. He’d said that but it was a lie. From the second he’d felt your lips on his he knew he’d never get enough of the taste of you. He was clawing so harshly at your legs you were sure you’d have scratch marks tomorrow. The thought of having a reminder of him on your body, even if for a little while, exited you. Your hips rose from the bed as you reached your third orgasm. Will kept licking at you until you had to physically push his face off you. He laid his head on your thigh, staring up at you like a puppy. A warm smile spread over Will's face as he watched your chest rise and fall. He would have never imagined he’d find himself in this situation. You let out a content sigh, finally opening your eyes to look at him. He was looking up at you like a god. It was then that you noticed he was waiting for you to tell him what you wanted. You placed your hand on his face, thumb stroking his cheek as you called out his name.

“Yes beautiful?”

“Come give me a kiss.”

You felt the weight on your legs dissipate as he rose from the bed. He crawled over your body, arms flexing as he moved. Once he’d gotten face to face with you he leant down slowly to place a kiss on your lips. You held his face, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. Your legs wound around Wills hips as you made out. He let out a small grunt when you accidentally grazed his hard on. Using all of your body weight you managed to flip your positions around so that you were on top of Will. You grinned down at him, hands splayed against his chest as you rocked your hips slowly.

“My turn.”

You inched your body down his. Will's breath hitched as you gave his hipbone a kiss. His hands gripped at the fresh sheets as you continued to tease him over his boxers. It was only when he let out a breathy “please” that you decided to indulge him. You tugged his boxers down, freeing his dick. You held him in your hand enjoying the weight for a moment before beginning to stroke him. The Will Graham you were currently seeing was nothing like the one you were used to. You’d never seen Will's body so relaxed. Your lips ghosted the tip of his dick causing him to whine.

“You want my mouth Will?”

“Shit baby please.”

He sounded so pretty for you. How could you deny him? As soon as your lips wrapped around his dick Will swore he’d never be able to forget the feeling. You boobed your head, tongue moving over the veins of his dick. Will tugged at your hair roughly, not being able to control his strength due to the pleasure you were giving him. Tears fell from your eyes as you gagged around his dick. He felt the droplets fall on his thighs causing him to raise his head from the people to look at you. A deep moan made its way out of Will as he began to buck his hips. Your grip on his legs tightened as he fucked into your throat. He was getting closer and closer to the edge. You waited eagerly for him to blow his load but then all of a sudden he was tugging you off of him.

“ Will what’s wro-”

“Sorry baby can’t take it any longer.”

Will roughly tugged you onto him. He positioned himself at your entrance and before you could even process what was going on he sunk into you. You moaned out his name as he filled you up. On instinct you started bouncing on his dick.

“That’s it baby. Ride me.”

“Jesus Will…you feel so good.”

His hands guided your movements forcing you to move faster and faster as he desperately tried to find release.

“Fuck i’m gonna cum”

“Give to me Will.”

“Ah shit!”

Wills hips bucked up one last time spilling his load into your. YOu continued grinding on him as he came down from his high. Your hands moved to remove the curls that stuck to his forehead. Will gave you a sleepy smile as you caressed him. You leaned down to give him a kiss. His arms wrapped around your body holding you to him. You closed your eyes hearing the small snores that started to slip out of Will. You nuzzled your body closer to him.

“Good night Will.”

When Will woke up the next morning he found your frame nuzzled into his side, his arm slung over your waist. He placed a kiss on your temple before closing his eyes again. Sleep washed over him quickly.

He waited from the nightmares to come.

They never did.

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scoobydoodean · 2 months

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The scene where Dean wakes up from a nightmare a little before his alarm in 6.01 is such a specific thing, and the way Lisa immediately shifts over and checks on him (along with Dean's dialogue later in the episode about persistent nightmares over the whole year) gives us these tiny little insights into their dynamic and how Dean's been managing... and despite Dean putting himself down about it later, it's clear that he's improved a lot over the course of a year.

Ever since coming back from hell in season 4, Dean has dealt with nightmares. We see Dean startle awake from a nightmare about hell in 4.03. In 4.08, it's specifically pointed out to us that Dean has been drinking more heavily to cope with his nightmares specifically.

This is further addressed in 5.11 "Sam, Interrupted", when Dean "tells" Dr. Cartwright (really talking to himself since she's a figment of his imagination) the following:

DR. CARTWRIGHT: How many drinks do you have a week? DEAN: Well, I gotta sleep sometime. So, uh, what's seven days times--somewhere in the mid fifties.

Dean drinking large amounts of alcohol as a sleeping aid is shown to us again (visually only) in 5.16, when the episode opens on Dean asleep in a motel, with several empty beer bottles littered around his bed.

In 6.01 though, we see Dean's drinking has cut back. Dean's still having nightmares, but he's sleeping through the night, waking just a little before his alarm, and with only a nightcap—not chain-drinking beers (5.16) or drinking hard liquor straight from the bottle to rid his mind of the remnants of a nightmare (5.08). Under his bed, instead of a liquor bottle, there's a gun and a jar of holy water.

#lisa #deanlisa #6.01 #season 6 #dean and drugs #i carved you into a new animal #pk rewatches spn number ?

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sparkledfirecracker · 2 years

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One Night Lasts Forever

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What was supposed to be a routine job ended up in your biggest nightmare.

Words: 2125

Warnings: dark content, 18+ only, explicit sexual content, explicit language, fingering, anal by finger, dub-con, non-con, BDSM elements, restraints, spanking, mention and use of alcohol, mention of forging documents, unprotective sex, choking, ragdoll army, overstimulation, crying from pleasure. To be sure: degrading, sociopath, humiliation and kidnapping. If I missed any, please feel free to let me know

A/N: @wakingbeauty here is your requested idea, hopefully, you like the end result. This is not beta’d, all mistake are my own. Happy birthday to our new villain! Enjoy reading, all comments, reblogs and likes are welcome - prefer to ghost read, no problem, have fun. LaurentGroup is taken from the book, there are mild character/language spoilers.

Divider by the ever so lovely and beautiful @firefly-graphics

I do not consent to have my works copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platforms have been posted without my permission or consent.

BY CLICKING KEEP READING YOU AGREE TO BE 18+ OR OVER!!!

Gif by @lilacevans found in this post here

With your head buzzing from the alcohol you wandered the streets of the German city of Hamburg. Suzanne had taken you out to dinner after you had curated and assessed the possessed paintings of LaurentGroup. Forging the documents and making sure everything was in order for shipment elsewhere.

You had learned quickly not to ask questions but would not complain about the perks and the pay. Little had you known you’d end up locked and chained in a dark room. Writhing on a mattress, as the metal shackles around your ankles would rattle.

You greeted the doorman of the hotel and gave the receptionist a wave as you made your way toward the bar. A nightcap wouldn’t hurt anyone, but your own head in the morning.

“The usual Miss Sunshine?” The bartender asked and placed a few sweet olives and assorted nuts on the bar.

Nodding your confirmation as you took a seat on the barstool. Taking a few nuts between your fingers, smiling at the given nickname and it probably all was due to your yellow accented dress. The hotel was part of LaurentGroup and Suzanne always ensured you were taken care of for every visit.

Looking over your shoulder you observed the thinned-out crowd. Two men still conversing in a pair of seats. You made eye contact with one of them, returning your gaze with a lopsided smirk. There was something entrancing about his presence. Darkness beckoned surrounded by charisma. His moustache and hair were groomed to perfection not a single hair out of place.

It hadn’t been long until the man had introduced himself. Lloyd Hansen introduced himself as a freelance legal entrepreneur for LaurentGroup. A common ground since both of you indirectly worked for the company. Accepting another drink since the conversation seemed to flow nicely with no worries on your mind.

You groaned, your head pounding. Alcohol was not going to be your friend today. You tried to roll over but noticed your ankles and wrists cuffed. What had happened? It was hard to remember what had happened, but one thing was certain - this was not the room you had gone to bed in.

Damn Suzanne for having fed you drunk already during dinner. So many thoughts going through your head, trying to retrace your steps from the night before. Wait. You had met a guy. Lloyd. The two of you enjoyed some drinks together at the bar and later he walked you up to your room.

For a moment you relished in the thoughts that had flooded your brain. The way his tongue had felt against your swollen pussy. How you had begged and pleaded for him not to stop. The way he had forcefully kept you spread open. The luscious orgasms he had pulled from your body. The thought brought you back to consciousness, your current reality, it all seemed like a dream now and the panic bubbled up.

“HELLO!” You screamed loudly, chest heaving uncomfortably whilst the sounds of your scream echoed off the walls turning into nothing.

You hadn’t expected anything to happen and were surprised when the metal door opened. A silhouette stood in the doorway, tall and masculine, perfectly outlined by the bright light that made you squint. It took a few groans and seconds for your sight to adjust.

“Lloyd? Please help me.”

“Morning Sunshine, and why would I help you exactly?” He asked, walking into the room, holding a plate and sitting down on chair. He held an amused look, while he plucked a grape from the stem with his teeth. He almost made it look like he was Julius Ceasar, the only difference, he was feeding himself.

The thought of food made your stomach grumble angrily. The way his eyes took in your body made you look down. Only to find out you were completely naked, trying to cross your legs to feel less exposed. The shackles around your wrists did not allow you to go the distance.

“Are you going to kill me?” The shaky tone of your voice gave away your fear.

His laugh almost sounded appreciative of the question while he picked a piece of cheese from his charcuterie board. The rumbling coming from his chest made clear you had amused him.

“No, as long as you behave, I’m not going to kill you.” He spoke with a mouth full. “I’d rather end this in a happy ending.”

“I decline that offer.”

You flinched when he threw the plate against one of the walls, he lunged forward. The porcelain shattered into a million pieces with his hand firmly around your throat. You wanted to clutch onto him and make him stop only the restraints keeping you from making it end. Lloyd seemed to enjoy watching you struggle to breathe.

“The scared look only adds to your mystique, Sunshine.” You almost blacked out from the vice grip on your neck, but the sudden allowance of air made you choke on the sharp inhale. He had made quick work of the fact that you were gasping for the much-needed air. Before you knew it he had taken off the shackles around your ankles and flipped your body.

With your knees pulled up to your chest it was hard to gain a balance on your hands. Instead, you gripped the metal chain that led to your wrists. His bruising grip made you feel his fingers digging into the skin of your upper leg.

Feeling his body pressing against yours, almost hovering over you. You whimpered when his fingers feathered over the plumpness of your core. A sob resulted in a needy pout, an amused rumble from his chest revelling in your agony. The unwanted pleasure was what was turning him on and he was good at working you up.

You felt your pussy drip when he inserted one finger inside your walls for a second. The squelched noises followed as he filled you up with two fingers. A comfortable stretch while you could still feel his thumb having a crushing grip on your ass while his index finger tapped along with the rhythm of his pumps.

A sobbing mess when he had inserted his pinky into the tight puckered hole. The coolness of his signet ring added more to your excitement. Hating yourself for enjoying it so much.

“Please?” You begged, not even knowing what exactly you were begging for. Maybe for him to not stop as when he fucked you with just his tongue last night. Leaving you aching and wanting him.

“Your sweet taste has gotten me addicted.” He husked. “Your sweet taste made me realize I never want to let you go. You’ll be all mine. Forever.”

You shivered at the dark tone, crying at the right stroke of his fingers against the glorious spot that was going to give you the release of the build-up sexual frustration.

“Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” The sinister sound was blurred out by your rising high. Fuck he was good at what he was doing. Stars clouded your vision while your muscles tensed and fought back the crouched position.

He had retracted his fingers for a split second, letting his palm collide with your ass. You gasped at the impact, trembling a little in his tightened hold. “You’re not going anywhere and I will fuck you in any position I like and you’ll have to take it.”

“Yes-yes. I’ll be good.” You sobbed at the rough plunge of his fingers back into your cunt. Feeling the burn at the sudden stretch from your dripping pussy and mewling when his pinky found the place again at the rim of your other hole. “Please, Lloyd.”

It was a beg that was needy for a release. Your pussy throbbing around his fingers. Aching at the blood rapidly pulsating. The vicious pounds fed on the rippling pleasure that sparked through your body.

Unsolicited moans at his attack on your cunt, almost like his life depended on it for a moment. The sobs turned into soft screams every time he stroked the right spots. Chest heaving heavily under the assault. For a moment forgot who was putting you through it and wandered off and let everything be as it was.

Lewd noises filled the air. The way your sopping core squelched around his fingers. His cool breath felt nice against your heated skin. Entirely surrendering to the enchanted sex noises administered by the monster.

“Scream for me, Pumpkin, I know you want to.”

His spoken words made you gain back focus, knowing who was doing this to you. Fighting the urge of the ecstasy building. The wanting need for release, your body not being able to resist him anymore. It felt illegal and wrong yet so good the way he fingered you. Curling against your walls with every pump and retraction.

You panted through the attack as your body writhed in his hold wanting to stop the building delightful feeling, but you were too far into cumming on his fingers.

Rapid movements made your sobs louder with every thrust. The restraint on your body and crunched-up position was uncomfortable at the intense feel of the orgasm. Screaming with glee as he continued to fuck you and pulled out multiple climaxes back to back. Every orgasm was more intense than the previous one, making you scream louder for him.

Lloyd removed his hand from your core and let go of the vice grip. Your body couldn't take no more and you trembled at the exhaustion. For a moment you closed your eyes, taking in the buzzing from the blood rush.

Your eyes opened feeling his cock drag through your slit, you whimpered at the contact. Sore and trembling from his earlier admission. It wasn’t what you wanted, not this way. Only wanting to go back to last night, remaining one night only.

“So eager for my cock aren't you, Pumpkin?” He grabbed your throat, breaking your downward gaze where he kept pressing his hard length against your lips. “Got to get it nicely coated and soaked with your slick.”

His grin made you want to throw up as you looked back at him. Unhinged and unpleasant is how this encounter had turned out to be. A tear slipping down your cheek as he pushed himself inside you filling you up entirely.

“You’ll come to love my dark side.” His thumb stroking your cheek, following the slipped tear gathering it all. You watched him bring his thumb to his mouth and suck off the salty liquid. A dark smile smeared across his face. “I’m going to break you and build you back up the way I want to or you can hate me forever, that would work for me too.”

The way his hips rolled and thrashed back into you made you aware of his. He was going to ravish your body in a way you had never been taken before. Nothing was going to be sweet about this. Just Lloyd fulfilling his own pleasure while he used your cunt to drown himself into.

Soft mewls escaped your throat at the rapid building highs from the intense thrusts. Skin slapping while his cock drilled your soaked core. You clenched around him unwillingly and he gave you the smallest wink, knowing you were much closer than you would want to admit. Eyes welling up again at the force of the delight.

The overstimulation made you cry, beg and plead with Lloyd to keep going. The width of his cock filled you entirely and the rim of his tip was wide enough for the perfect stroked inside your walls. Your whimpering requests only seemed to make him fuck you harder. A thin layer of sweat formed on your body trying to keep the orgasm from coming.

Being used by Lloyd as his own personal ragdoll might not be as bad as it sounded if this was how he would make you feel every single time. You couldn’t hold out any longer and could only let the euphoric state of mind overtake your body and soul.

“You’re my favourite sex puppet, Sunshine.” He slapped your ass making you wince. “No one will ever know you even existed when I’m done wiping out every single trace of you.”

For a moment you were sad that he stepped away from your body. Zipping himself back up, he pulled your sated body back into its original position and made sure the ankle weights were back on. It only made your reality hit harder than you had wanted. He was leaving you behind alone in this dark box once again. Naked, vulnerable and dripping with his cum, letting you roam in disgust and shame. Hating every part of what you would slowly become. His.

Taglist: @tumblin-theworldaway @dreamlessinparis @chase-your-dreams-away

#lilos writing #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen smut #chris evans smut #spoilers #dark content

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pixelchills · 5 months

Note

If Moon has a bad nightmare, or a PTSD nightmare from his time at El Chips, what does Sun do to help calm him down?

When Moon has one of those nightmares Sun usually cuddles him closely and tries to talk him over the worst of it. Moon feels much better hearing Sun's voice, knowing he is right there and safe.

Sun also makes sure Moon's pillows and blankets are forming the nest Moon finds protective on his other side, and places his nightcap back on his head (he normally sleeps without it) but tries not to touch his head because the cigarette burns are a bit of a sore spot after a nightmare like that...

Often Sun ends up crying with Moon, but he tries to keep talking about even the not so important things so Moon can just listen to his voice.

#asks #animutants #a not so sunny world #moondrop #sunrise

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pxrplebxtterfly · 11 months

Text

Yes Father (2/2)

gifs belong to me

18+

Pairings: Sam Winchester’s alias Father Frehley x fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, priest kink?, mentions of religion, alcohol use, spanking, fingering, blowjob.

Summary: Father Frehley shows up in your town and the two of you share a nightcap.

Word count: 4.5k

Notes: This fic was written in a FIRST PERSON POV!!! This is part of a two-part fic about Sam’s alias Father Frehley. This second part takes place during season 12, episode 4: American Nightmare, ten years later. Although Sam goes by Father DiNero in the episode, the narrator still knows him as Father Frehley. Also, so sorry for taking forever to put this out, I’m working full time this summer so it’s been hard to make time to write. This 2nd part might be less cohesive and consistent due to my inability to write all the time. Thanks for being patient and I hope you enjoy!!!

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

It’s been ten years. It’s been ten years since I’ve seen Father Frehley. Until now. There he is walking out of the church on my block with the same priest he was with before. This is not what I expected when I decided to take a walk this morning.

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

I moved to the midwest after finishing college for a job. I also wanted to get out of my small town in the deeply religious south. After my experience with Father Frehley, one thing led to another and I started to transition out of the church.

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

That’s how I ended up here, in my new town, in front of him once again.

He sees me, standing on the sidewalk across the street, shock on my face. I see him too. He’s even taller than I remember. His hair is longer and his face more chiseled.

He’s ten years older, so am I.

He’s equally as shocked, the chances of encountering each other again are impossibly low. Yet, here he is, walking across the street towards me, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Father Frehley?” I say once he’s close enough to where I don’t need to raise my voice. He steps up onto the sidewalk in front of me, his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, it’s good to see you. What are you doing in Iowa?” he greets with a smile.

I’m in a trance seeing him again.

“I live here, what are you doing here?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Visiting friends,” he looks back at the church, “how long’s it been?”

“Ten years I think,” I say blushing when I’m reminded of the last time we were together.

“Wow, well you haven’t aged at all” he gestures to me, a twinkle in his eyes.

His jaw is covered in stubble, aging him. He looks more mature and grown.

“Thank you” I say and blush again, as I see the way he looks at me.

He still has that same lust and desire in him, like he had when we first met. I can feel it.

“Father!” Father Simmons calls to him from their car.

Apparently he doesn’t recognize me, though I don’t judge him for that.

“I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you again. Let me know if you want to get together while I’m still in town!” he says softly, looking down at me.

I say goodbye and watch as the handsome priest saunters back to the other side of the road.

I hate myself for my horny thoughts: that he’s only gotten sexier.

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

It’s 10:30. I shouldn’t be calling him but I’ve found myself distracted the whole day after running into him this morning. I can’t stop thinking about the way he corrupted me, and how he taught me so gently. My skin burns, daydreaming about his massive physique and probing eyes.

The last time we did this, I knew nothing. Now I know that what he did was not the way things usually go.

However, I don’t hold any resentment towards him or feel like what he did was wrong. In fact, it’s always turned me on, knowing that this young, hot, kind, priest strayed from his religious upholdings to teach and please me.

It’s something I fantasize and think about often; the kinky sort of thing that makes most people raise an eyebrow with confusion.

For me, it’s an eyebrow of intrigue.

I ransack my jewelry box on the dresser looking for the stack of cards with numbers on them, I’ve accumulated from men over the years. When I find it, I untie the rubber band holding the cards in place, and take the card from the very bottom.

It’s his. The number on it might not even be his anymore but it’s worth a shot.

I pick up my cell phone and punch the number in. I press call and hold the phone up to my ear. The line rings three times, and I hold my breath the whole time. After the third ring, the line clicks and I hear a “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Father Frehley?” I ask nervously.

“Uh, yeah it is, can I help you?”

I breathe out, shakey just from hearing his voice.

“I hope so. You told me to let you know if I wanted to get together and well, I do right now if you’re not busy” I bite my lip, hoping he can tell it’s me.

“I thought it might’ve been you,” he chuckles softly.

“Are you up for a nightcap?” I ask. There’s a pause and then I hear his laugh start again.

“You know what, as a matter of fact I could use a drink. What’d you have?”

“Whiskey, bourbon, scotch… Any of those sound good?”

“Send me your address, I’ll be right over” he says, his mind made up already.

We end the phone call and I text him my address. In anticipation, I set out all my best liquor and daydream about the things he might do to me once he comes over.

Within minutes of calling him, the Chevy Impala pulls up outside my front window. I hide behind my curtains and watch as he walks up to my front door. My heart is racing, watching him take long strides up my sidewalk, in the dim porch light.

He knocks on the door and I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. I act like I wasn’t just watching him and take a second to answer.

When I open the door, there he is. My body tenses seeing him and I’m almost overcome with excitement.

He stands there smirking down at me, thrilled at my desperation. He’s still wearing a black suit and white roman collar like he’s just been to mass. My body is overrun by attraction and I can feel my core jump as I step aside and let him in.

“So, you said you have whiskey” he says as I close the front door behind him.

“I do, it’s in the kitchen, you can follow me” I say, and walk in front of him, down the hallway to the kitchen.

“You have a beautiful house; it smells nice in here, like a real home” he says behind me.

“Thanks, it’s probably all the candles I burn, I can never have too many” I say and grab two glasses off the kitchen counter.

Moments of silence pass and he doesn’t say something until I’ve poured our drinks and put the bottle of whiskey down.

“You know I never thought I’d see you again, so seeing you this morning was rather jarring” he says as I pick up our glasses.

“Jarring in a bad way?” I ask, walking towards him and offering the drink.

“I wouldn’t say so” he says gently as our fingers brush when I transfer the glass to his hand.

We lock eyes, his green irises putting a spell on me. I feel my heart burn and I don’t walk back to the other side of the kitchen for a moment; too lost in the lusty haze surrounding us.

When I finally back away, he asks me a question: “Are you still religious?” He’s looking down at the ground, noticing some smudge on his shoe.

Oh God, I think. He’ll hate my answer, I mean he’s a priest. But he broke his vows first, who is he to judge?

I blush with guilt and shake my head. I decide to confess with a hint of playfulness, “How can I be after what you did to me?”

His eyes shoot up to look at me. When he sees my smirk he takes a deep breath in, as if trying to hold something back. After a second he nods, smiles, and says, “That’s very fair”

“What about you? Are you still religious?” I tease, taking a sip of my drink.

“What do you think?” he scoffs and adjusts his collar, “However, I’m no longer a junior priest, I’ve fully joined the priesthood.”

“Oh yeah? Congratulations. Can I ask you a question about priests?”

I decide to be bold because already this whiskey is having an effect on me. I want him to take my clothes off and have me right here on my kitchen island.

“Of course, anything you want,” he says. The look on his face makes me think he already knows exactly what I'm about to ask. It has to be brought up eventually.

I bite my lower lip before asking, “What kind of priest fingers someone?”

He pauses, his eyes probing mine with a fire lit behind them. His eyes undress me, the lower half of his face going a little slack with shock.

He takes a breath, licks his lips and says, “a sacrilegious one”

I shiver under his gaze, and ask quietly, “Are you still sacrilegious?”

He stares at me, sinful ideas blossoming in his head. I can see them form behind his eyes.

“Should we find out?” he asks in a low voice, straightening up.

“Yes please” I smile and put my glass down. He does the same.

He walks towards me and corners me to the counter. He places his hands on the counter beside my hips and looms over me. The smell of his cologne hits me and my legs become weak. As I stare up at him he lifts his hand off the counter and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

With his fingers gently cupping my face, he kisses me. It’s soft at first, and so gentle. His warm lips barely even on mine. The taste of whiskey crawls into my mouth and makes me burn to taste more of him. He continues, gifting me with slow, loving, sweet, kisses.

The tantalizing, methodical movement of his lips makes my head buzz. His deliverance of affection and passion sends heat everywhere, flooding every vein.

Soon, the lust of years gone by, is too strong to resist and things begin to heat up. His tongue glides into my mouth and we begin to devour each other. Our mouths open wide, and greedy to explore.

Both of his large hands hold my face as I melt like ice cream in his mouth. The feeling of his hands cradling my jaw and skull so tenderly makes my cunt lurch with amusement. Knowing how vulnerable and fragile I am as he handles me, twists the knot inside me tighter.

His hands begin to get a little rough, a little more in control. They hold me close to his lips and his fingers tangle and tug slightly at my hair.

His stubble and fallen strands of hair tickle my cheeks as his body slowly molds into mine.

My hips push against his thighs and my lower stomach is pressed to his pelvis. I can feel him stiffen through his slacks. He moans into me when I push myself into him more, not wanting any space between us.

I wrap my hands around his neck, keeping him leaning downwards to kiss me. I weave my fingertips into his hair at the nape of his neck and play with it. Apparently he likes this because he places a knee between my legs and pushes it forward until his thigh reaches my crotch. Feeling the pressure he creates, I roll my hips and pathetically grind on his thigh.

I moan into his mouth as he bites my lower lip and lifts his leg to create more pressure. We part naturally to breathe and he moves his hands to my ass. He squeezes gently and asks, “Have you been a good girl all these years?”

I don’t know what to say so I just nod and whimper as he grips my ass, and I chase his lips.

“Tell me,” he commands softly, fingers clawing into my flesh.

I sigh, out of breath and because his words turn me on. “Probably not Father,” I say, “but I can be good for you tonight”

He responds with a shaky moan-like laugh, delighted with my response and kisses me with such desire I almost become a puddle at his feet.

He continues to knead at my ass, pushing and pulling with the rhythm of my hips on his leg. He does this all while kissing me, the cat and mouse with his tongue making me grind harder.

I’m panting into his mouth, holding his face as close to mine as I can. We stop kissing when I’m unable to breathe and need to concentrate on not overwhelming myself with pleasure so quickly.

“Look at you getting all worked up on my leg” he whispers into my ear.

I moan at his comment and squeeze my thighs around his leg.

His hands move from my ass to my breasts. He squeezes them through my shirt. I immediately rip my shirt off over my head and undo my bra for him.

He marvels at my tits and takes them in his hands. As we kiss he pinches my nipples and runs over them with his thumb. I’m whimpering into his mouth, twitching at his touch.

He pulls off my mouth and ducks down to my chest. He takes one of my breasts into his mouth and sucks. His tongue plays with my nipple as he sucks my breast.

I hold his head to my chest, so far immersed in this pleasure I block out the world.

He moves his mouth to my other breast and I moan. He sucks and plays with my tits for a few minutes, giving them attention. When he’s finished he begins kissing me again. He kisses me and I taste my skin on his tongue. He pulls away suddenly, and I can tell in his eyes, that he’s thought of something.

“You wanna be good? Turn around,” he tells me.

That’s what I do. I turn around and bend over the counter. I feel him pull at my jeans, and feel the cold air hit me. He pulls my pants down to my ankles and I kick them off.

He comes up behind me, hips pushing against my bare bottom. I feel him through his pants and I clench around nothing. He leans over me and kisses my neck just below my ear. The sound of his breathing and feel of his lips forces a sigh and whimper out of me.

His hands feel up my waist and back, germinating seeds of heat sowed under my skin. His hands travel to my shoulders, and down my arms. His fingers wrap around my wrists, and this display of dominance makes my stomach flutter.

He whispers into my ear, “Stand up”

We stand up at the same time, his hands let go of my wrists. When we’re up, he turns me around against the counter by my waist. He kisses me once more and grabs my wrists again.

When he pulls away, he keeps one hand holding my wrist. He starts to walk to my living room, and I follow him as close as I can. He leads me to my couch and he sits down in the middle. I sit next to him.

“Bend over my lap,” he commands.

I give him a curious look that asks, “what are you about to do to me?”

His eyes shimmer, he smirks and nods to his lap. I’m intrigued and crawl over him.

I feel his hard-on underneath the side of my hip as I settle myself over his lap.

Wasting no time, he runs his hands over my ass and grabs palm fulls of my flesh. I feel his fingers grip my skin to expose my pussy for him to look at.

“Fuck” he moans and slaps my ass a little.

I squeal from the sharp sting and circle my hips in response. I wasn’t prepared for his hit but I enjoyed it.

“Oh did you like that?” he asks and another slap, a little bit harder than the last, lands on my other cheek.

I moan a ‘mhm’ and squeeze my thighs together. He slaps me again.

I’m cursing at the surge of pleasure being sent to my cunt each time he spanks me.

He rubs his palm over the places he’s slapped, cooling and soothing them with his touch.

Once again, he spreads my folds with his fingers and groans at the sight of me. My slick covers the inside of my thighs, coating my skin.

“Such a pretty pussy” he murmurs, groping my ass. I feel and hear him spit on me, his saliva landing right at my entrance. My stomach churns with heat, and I wiggle my hips, trying to grind into his lap.

I then feel his finger circle my hole, prodding at it, teasing me. I push my ass up, trying to make his finger slip in. The heavy tip of his finger, toying with me, makes my head spin. The crave for his fingers in me becomes almost impossible to bear.

“Father, please” I plead, my face buried in throw pillows.

“Please what? Cmon use your words for me” he teases.

I feel his other hand begin to rub my clit. The desperation for his fingers in me only amplifies. My skin prickles from the torture he’s causing.

“Please put your fingers in me” I beg.

He listens and plunges his long, thick finger in. I release a sob of relief and pleasure, when I feel him deep against my walls.

He begins to curl his finger, slowly hollowing me out. He soon starts oscillating between fucking his finger in and out of me, and pushing up against my g-spot.

I crave more, and that’s what he delivers. Adding another finger, he opens me up and pumps into me more ferociously.

He fucks me with his fingers, deep and hard, making tears form in the corners of my eyes. His other hand vibrates with speed against my clit, making me moan and squirm. He fucks me perfectly, hitting every pleasure nerve in me. His fingers start to vibrate in me and I begin to cry from the overwhelming bliss.

His fingers coax an orgasm out of me, setting free what had been building up all day. It’s over way too fast and I’m in shock at how easily he drew an orgasm from me.

“Oh my god” I pant once he’s slowed his movements and I’ve come down.

“That good, huh?” he teases and takes his fingers out of me gently.

I sigh at the empty feeling and push myself off my stomach. I sit back on my knees and say, “you have no idea,”

He drags his fingers across my waist, leans towards me, and before our lips touch, he says, “oh I think I do”

As he speaks he brings his two fingers that were in me, between our lips.

I blush, embarrassed at my orgasm that covers his fingers.

“Open,” he says, and I do. I let him push his fingers into my mouth, exploring my tongue.

“Do you like the way you taste?” he whispers, his gaze never straying from my mouth. He’s smirking, enjoying the show, as he watches me suck on his fingers. I nod, showing him. I take his wrist in my hand and pull his fingers from my lips. Once out, I kiss the tips of his fingers and he scoffs as it turns him on.

“Get on your knees” he says softly. He’s not commanding or harsh, but almost moaning with his anticipation.

I kiss him quickly on the lips and watch him smile as I slide off the couch and onto the floor. My knees bruise but I don’t care, I just shuffle myself between his long, meaty thighs.

I look at his crotch, and see the tent in his pants. It makes the heat between my thighs only grow. He leans forwards and begins to stroke my hair. He pets me and says, “So far, you’ve behaved well. But, I want you to show me how good you can be”

I know what he wants and I’m more than happy to service him.

“You think you can do that for me?” he asks.

“Yes Father,” I say and reach my hand up to palm at his erection.

He breathes out quickly through his nose and says “good girl,”

I watch him lean back into the couch, giving me full control over him. He unbuttons his black dress shirt and peels his roman collar off. He shrugs off his shirt and I’m stunned at how his torso looks. It’s so sculpted and tan, it’s better than I ever imagined. I notice a tattoo of a pentagram at the center of what appears to be the sun. It’s above his left peck and it sparks curiosity in me. I want to know the story behind it eventually.

I slither my hands up to his belt and undo it slowly, biting my lip in excitement. I remember him well; how could I forget?

His belt undone, I zip open his fly and then tug at his pants and underwear. I need to see him, I need to feel him.

He lifts his hips and pushes his pants down and off, kicking them to the side.

Finally, his red, inflamed cock is free, and all for me. I grab it immediately and wrap my hand around it, feeling how thick it is.

He lets out a shaky breath as I take him in my fist.

“Come on baby, show me what you can do,” he breathes out, encouraging me.

I kiss the head of his dick, smearing pre-cum on my lips. I then stick my tounge out and lick around his tip. Once I’ve swirled my tongue around the head of his leaking dick, I begin to make out with his shaft. I kiss up and down his cock, all the way down to his balls. I suck on his balls, taking one into my mouth, and then the other. He moans as I slobber on them.

“Fuck, you’re so-,” he can’t finish his thought, too lost in watching as I lick every exposed piece of him.

I’m looking up at him the whole time, watching his reactions. His fist is holding my hair back, guiding my head gently. I finally wrap my lips around him and suck. He groans as I begin to slowly bob up and down, getting my mouth used to him.

“Look at you…” he coos, proud and stunned by my eagerness. I smile through my motions, happy he’s in awe of my performance.

As I continue, I look up and see his eyes shut tight and jaw clenched as I suck. His hand on the back of his head causes his arm to flex, sending a ripple of tingles to my pussy. I hum in pleasure at his enjoyment and this causes him to let another moan escape.

Hearing him fills me with endurance and excitement. I force myself to go deeper, taking him into my mouth a little bit farther. I keep the same up and down motion, going a little faster as well.

I pop off him, giving myself a minute to breathe. I look up at him and his face is heavily flushed and he’s biting his bottom lip. “Fuck” he sighs.

I giggle and continue where I left off.

Now, I’m taking him all the way to the back of my throat. My teeth have rubbed the inside of my lips raw, and his cock has bruised my throat, but I’m not about to stop. I’m giving him the sloppiest head of his life and it’s made clear to me that he’s almost done.

He’s been panting for a few minutes now, as if he’s trying to control himself. Trying to hold out a little bit longer. I keep going, focusing on his pleasure only. My hands are playing with his balls and jerking on the lower half of his cock.

He goes silent and then all at once I hear him moan and let out curses while something warm fills my mouth and throat. When he’s finished, I slow and stop.

I look up at him and show him my tongue, still laced with his seed. He breathes out an exhausted moan.

I swallow him and show him my empty mouth after.

“Fuck,” he moans, “You’re such a good girl, you should be proud”

He bends forwards and I sit up on my knees. He puts his hands on the sides of my head and kisses me. It’s a little dry, both of us out of breath, but it’s endearing.

He pulls away, his hands still on my cheeks and stares at me. I look up at him, letting him admire me. He plays with my hair and caresses my cheekbone with his thumb.

Neither of us speak, preferring to let the silence embrace us.

The smell of our sweat is thick in the air, almost fog like.

I stand up and climb into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck and straddle him. I cling to him, the both of us naked and flushed. He envelopes me with his long, lean arms, pulling me tight against him.

We sit here momentarily, breathing each other in, enjoying the intimacy we’re sharing.

I feel him start to kiss my shoulder and move to my neck. I pull my face from his shoulder, allowing him access to my throat. He kisses and sucks on my neck lovingly. He’s inattentive to anything else.

His lips on my neck make me groan lazily. Sparks fly off of us, driving me wild. He kisses up my throat, to my jaw and diligently pours his affection onto my skin. He finally reaches my mouth. Our kisses are like before, slow, less hesitant but just as impassioned.

I desperately don’t want to break away from what we’ve just shared but I know that it’s fleeting. I pull away and hold his head in my hands. It’s my turn to admire him.

He smiles at me and says, “I don’t want to go, but I think I should”

I smile with him and nod. We both know he has his priest thing even though he’s probably the worst priest I’ve ever met.

“Call me if you’re ever in town again” I say.

“Absolutely,” he says.

I climb off him and dress myself. He sits up off the couch and does the same.

Before he leaves I take a pen and sticky note from a drawer in my kitchen and write my number and name on it. I hand it to him after he puts his shoes on and is standing by the door.

He slips the sticky note in his pocket and pulls me in by my waist for one last kiss. When we part he says, “Goodbye,” and smiles as he opens the door.

He walks through and out into the night. I take his place by the door and watch as he walks down my sidewalk and gets into his car.

I shut the door as he drives off and sigh while I think about what just occurred.

I still smell him and I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be able to wash it off.

#supernatural #sam winchester #smut #spn #sam winchester smut

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Text

Kink Bingo - Free Space (C*ckw*rm*ng)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW PTSD/Nightmares, Tommy’s guilt, panic attacks, fluff fluff fluff, cockwarming, his gf hypes T up, all luved up, doggy style, getting railed and then made breakfast, set in Jackson

A/N: short n sweet

The things he and Joel did.

Cold sweats and nightmares didn’t happen as often the longer he’d been in Wyoming. But some nights the man couldn’t wake from the memories. Smell of blood and gunpowder— noises non-infected shouldn’t make. They didn’t care. It was in the name of survival. Canis canem edit, dog eat dog. Tommy’s chest tightened again, flashes of the fear of someone’s life draining out in their frantic orbs. He needed to get up, take a walk, a trip, something.

“Tom? You good baby?,” came her sleepy voice.

Tommy relaxed a bit at her sweet voice. His baby never failed to make him feel grounded. The tether from letting him float off into a miasma of guilt. He gruffed, “Nothin’ sugar, just gettin’ some water. Want any?” She turned over with a sleepy sigh, bleary eyes gazing up at his own dark orbs. Her lips downturned, a slight furrow in her brow.

“Stay here. I’ll get the water, okay?”

Tommy gulped around his arid throat, body unable to move. He felt paralyzed, grunting his assent in the quiet room. She rustled the plaid covers and padded to the kitchen, Tommy’s eyes roving her stark form, locks swishing in the moonlight. He’d go back to the dark times for her— deciding to lock that thought away for later.

She returned with a big glass of water, perching on the side of his bed. Her eyes were kind as she took in his stricken impression, murmuring, “I’m sorry baby.” She grabbed the glass and held it to Tommy’s dry lips. He gulped the cool drink down, pausing to draw a wet breath. She cooed, rubbing his trim chest, “That’s it, you’re not there anymore sweets. Breathe. Breathe Tommy.”

Tommy tried to breathe, really did. He pulled her flush to his body, crushing the poor thing in his embrace. He couldn’t help the tears slide down his cheeks. The man cried, “Am I even worth it? Worth all this?” She gazed up and nuzzled his cheek, stating softly, “Your past doesn’t define you baby. You’re good. Good to the people, the town, to Joel and Ellie.” She pressed a dry kiss to his cheek, “You’re real good to me. Third place I’d been by, starving, close to death and you decided to take me in,” she patted his cheek, “You’re a damn fine man Tommy Miller and I love you.”

He tearily smiled, lamely joking, “You always gotta’ make me cry.” She hummed, stroking his hair, “Someone’s gotta. Can’t be big protector of Jackson all the time babe.” Her mouth grew closer to his as she whispered, “S’okay to be soft. I won’t tell.” Tommy warbled, “I love you,” and kissed his woman passionately, arms snaked round tighter. He spread his thighs to slot her in, savoring her natural essence.

They kissed softly for what felt like ages, simply holding and loving on eachother. Tommy cooed and praised her glory. She reached down to palm his stiff cock, mumuring, “Nightcap? Might help you sleep.” Tommy clenched his jaw in thought. He really just wanted to be closer to her tonight, joined as one.

He gruffed, “Think ya’ can just, uh, join me. Lay together, together I mean.” She smiled softly, moonlight catching on her cheeks, a painting of an angel. She cocked her head and crooned, “Sure honey. We can do that.” She reared up and guided Tommy’s flush cock to her slick core, quietly mewling his name. The man gasped and held to her as she seated herself and flipped them to the side, full and sated.

Tommy pressed kissed to the nape of her neck, purring, “Thank ya’ sugar. So good to me.” She turned to give him another kiss, chiding, “C’mon and relax now Miller. Let’s get some sleep.” Tommy was off to sweet oblivion in no time, breathing evening out.

By the time the sun filtered through the curtains, Tommy was awoken by a wonderful noise. A frustrated little moan of his name. Taking inventory, Tommy’s reignited cock was deep inside of her twitching pussy. It was slick too, good god. He rasped, “Mornin’ sugar.” She rolled back onto his cock, pussy swollen and needy.

The girl begged, “Fuck baby, woke up all needy- C’mon, c’mon so wet for you. Tommy please!” Her nails gripped at his sinewy arms wrapped round her squirmy waist. Tommy chuckled, “I gotcha’, least I could do,” he patted her ass, “On your belly baby.” She moaned loudly at the loss, presenting eagaerly. Tommy groaned as he stretched, moving to face her need.

He slid a calloused thumb through her copious slick, cursing, “Gaht-damn baby you’re a mess.” She peered back at him with teary eyes, “Pleasplease Tommybaby!” Tommy grinned and lined his pelvis up to hers, sliding his cock in. He cursed again at the tight slick, gripping her ass to hold himself. Down boy.

Feeling energized from decent sleep last night Tommy went at it, fucking her in deep thrusts, so loud the floor shook and squelches filled the morning air. She tore at the pillow, whining like a damn bitch in heat. Hell, he felt like he was in rut. He rasped, “Shit honey, so sweet, squeezin’ me real good.” He swatted her bouncing ass.

“All for you, so good!,” she howled.

If Tommy cared, he’d be embarrassed for the neighbors, but alas he didn’t give a fuck. Not with this tight little thing under him. The elder yanked at her hair, biting and sucking down her nape. He growled, “Good pretty little slut for your old man. You just love it dont’cha?” Tears streaking her pretty face she wailed, “Yes! Fuck yes!”

Tommy yanked her hair in one hand, didn’t miss a fucking thrust, and dug down to rub her obscenely swollen clit. That sent the sweetie into a frenzy, caterwauling and squeezing, legs shaking violently. Tommy bit down on his lip to keep quiet when she milked him clean up. He yanked his cock out, splattering hot seed on her quivering ass and back. He patted her on the cheek again, cooing.

“Thas’ what ya’ needed. Get my girl all tuckered out.” He pressed a kiss to her sweaty cheek and said, “You stay here n’ rest, hows’at sound?” Her smile and slur filled his heart, “Ngmm-pls” he hopped like a damn bunny.

He leant over to give her swollen lips a peck, murmuring, “How ‘bout breakfast huh, just take a breather sweetie.”

“N’uhokay,” she slurred.

Tommy ignored the usual morning aches and pains, hopping like a bunny to cook for his love. His sweet, kind love who gave him hope.

#kink bingo #tommy miller x reader #tlou fic #tlou smut

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almost-a-class-act · 4 months

Text

It's been a while since I've written some luztoye!

For @blood-mocha-latte who has been leaving just the best comments on my luztoye modern au. I open my email each time in absolute delight.

George is still grinning when the door closes behind them, partitioning them off from the rest of the world and leaving them alone at last in the room they are sharing ostensibly to save on expenses. Joe sits down heavily on the edge of one of the beds, laying his crutches next to him and grimacing as he massages his wrists. George passes him and goes to tug the curtains closed, peering out at the night for a moment first, as if he's reluctant to shut it out just yet.

"I don't remember it being that tiring just being around everyone," Joe grumbles. Maybe he lost the knack for crowds, inasmuch as he ever had it. Maybe it's harder to drink beer until well past three in the morning, the older you get.

And maybe it has something to do with feeling the intangible but undeniable weight of not being the person they remember. Joe might put some money on all three.

"You're advanced in years now, Joe," George says with a wink. "Almost thirty. One foot in the grave, you could say."

Joe nearly snorts. "I'm a little surprised that's the first time you've made that joke."

George crouches down in front of him to unlace his shoe and tug it off. "I'd hate for you to think I'm becoming predictable."

"Hey." Joe says it to get his attention, as it occurs to him, and George looks up inquiringly. "Were you ever going to tell me about the dud shell?"

George blinks and stills, clearly caught off-guard. "You talked to Lip?"

"Yeah, I talked to Lip."

Joe is not unaware of the fact that George's constellation of people he trusts is smaller than most people think. He gets along with everyone, but that friendliness hides a tendency to play vulnerability close to the vest. It's work to look past that brightness, that sound; it's work to convince George he can turn it off. Lip and Frank were the two people George used to mention most often in his letters after Joe came off the line, and sometimes at these reunions, when George is doing the life-of-the-party thing he's so gifted at, Joe sits next to Lip and they buy each other a round and they don't talk about how they've both been George's quiet.

"No," George says, after a moment. I wouldn't have told you.

Joe nods, slowly. It's not worth arguing over; he knows why.

"Not much to tell," George adds. "It hit the side of the foxhole and didn't explode. I was fine."

"Close call," Joe notes.

"Uh huh." George pushes himself slowly to his feet and sits on the edge of the bed, next to him. "Wouldn't have even had time to think if it had gone off. It wasn't there and then it was." The snap of his fingers is crisp, lightning-quick. "That's all, folks."

He had come to this reunion in the first place because he remembers what it was like to wake up in the hospital without George there to turn all the lights on and talk him down, like a fucking kid.

Joe would have gone weeks, maybe months without knowing he was dead. He would've read it in a letter from someone else, or heard it through the hospital grapevine. George is gone. Sorry buddy. I know you two were close. He used to have nightmares about it, so constant that he was always exhausted, an ache between his shoulder blades that didn't ease until the surrender of Japan. He still dreams about it occasionally, coming awake with a terrible certainty that he will find himself alone.

"Didn't hear mine, either," he says. "Either one. Not that I can remember."

George reaches over and squeezes his good knee, just this side of too hard. "Probably better not to see it coming, huh."

Joe knows he's thinking about other faces, about another impersonal hole in the ground. These are the kinds of silences he recognizes but doesn't have the dexterity to cross.

After a moment, George pats that knee and goes to stand up. "I'll pour us a nightcap," he suggests. "Then maybe we can talk about world hunger, or which of us is going to lose all our teeth first. You know, more real cheery stuff."

Joe catches his wrist without even really thinking through why. George looks down at it, and then up at Joe's face. After a moment, he seems to recognize something, and it makes him cover Joe's hand with his own and stroke his thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. Yeah, I know.

It's only when he gives his captured wrist a gentle tug that Joe lets go.

#luztoye #band of brothers #fanfiction #roaroftheninth

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steddiejudas · 6 months

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The Five Stages of Grief (and love)

Steddie || full fic on ao3

Would you believe it if Steve Harrington told you he wasn’t a huge fan of parties? He played the part well, kegstand king and all, but in reality, All the alcohol and drugs being thrust into his hands just made him feel out of control, like his body and mind were two separate entities fighting for whichever could give him a bigger case of Foot-in-Mouth disease. All through high school, his so-called friends threw parties, and of course he attended; most of them were at his house after all. Once in a blue moon he might even say he enjoyed the company, if he’d had a bad week — back then, a bad week entailed a lost basketball game, Tommy and Carol being grade A dicks, at worst Harrington Sr. getting on his case for his less than perfect grades — but really all they ever achieved was to make him feel like shit in the morning.

Eventually, the stakes of a bad week to “King Steve” seemed inconsequential, laughable even. Now, in the face of the end of the world, temporary distraction is all he could hope for. Weekend after weekend, Steve hosts hordes of high schoolers who barely acknowledge him as a person rather than a symbol. He’s searching for a moment of relief, a second of feeling safe.

It never comes, but the appeal of weed and liquor finally do. Steve thinks if he can just muddle his way through the trauma of fighting monsters in a drunken haze, eventually he’ll forget. Wishful thinking.

Because graduation comes with another apocalypse hot on its trails. Steve may have found a form of peace in Robin, but she isn’t the cure for the void in his chest. That void can now only be filled with a constant stream of substances. Okay, maybe it doesn’t fill the void, but he can pretend it isn’t there under the haze of glorious intoxication.

So, to Steve’s delight, after killing Vecna, he finds an acquaintance in Eddie. Maybe pursuing friendship would be more beneficial, but Steve can’t find the capacity to expend the energy that requires.

No, Steve has been meeting with Eddie, nearly three times a week, to stock up on weed. They share little more than a nod of solidarity for what they went through together, before Steve rushes home to smoke and pour himself a drink. Or two. Or three.

The morning after one of those nights he goes harder than most, Steve walks into his shift at Family Video, looking completely worn down. His hair lacks its signature “Harrington” shape and volume. A pair of thick sunglasses shield his eyes. His clothes are clearly unwashed, and smell strongly of his unconscionable decisions.

“Gooood morning, sunshine!” Robin says, far too loud for Steve’s throbbing headache.

Steve winces and puts a hand up to rub his temples.

“Damn, Rob, it’s too early to be so cheerful.”

While Steve self-destructs on a nightly basis, Robin is on constant alert, ready to be at his side at a moment's notice. She hardly ever lets on to this behavior though, fearing Steve will withdraw if he knows she’s focusing her energy towards him.

Steve, though he’ll never admit it, has a habit of closing himself off the second he needs help. He would drop everything for any one of those damn kids, Robin, Nancy, or even Eddie, but he was never able to let them reciprocate.

“It is 12 o’clock in the afternoon, Steven. The sun is fully up.”

“Okay, so it’s too early in my morning to be this cheerful.”

“You really are a delight, you know that, dingus?”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, dummy.” Steve lets out a half hearted chuckle, unable to fully match Robin’s energy. Frankly, he can’t match any energy at this point. The nightmares and crippling paranoia had too strong a grip on him last night. His sides, where the demobats had left nothing but shredded skin and muscle, were aching the worst they had since the night he got them. A joint and a nightcap hadn’t helped the way Steve had hoped, so he poured another. And then another. And then another. It was around the time he found himself dancing around the pool, a whiskey bottle in one hand and another joint in the other, that he realized he’d lost count.

The hangover’s cruel, but not enough to make Steve regret his choices. The room may be spinning, but it’s reminiscent of the circles he danced in with his arms out, listening to something that vaguely reminded him of Eddie. He may have a splitting headache, but it hurts less than his injuries had last night. He may have feel a constant dull pressure on the back of his throat, like everything from last night is trying to scratch and crawl its way out, but really, he’s so jumpy these days, that nearly every sudden noise has him on the verge of vomiting.

Robin stares Steve down as she watches him wince at too sharp a movement, or quickly grab at the trash can, just to set it back down with a thumbs up and a “false alarm.” Things had been hard on all of them, sure, but she knows Steve is far deeper than anyone else. Four times saving the world, and not once had he let his emotions be felt.

“You know, Eddie and I have movie night tonight. You should help me pick something out.” Steve is sitting on a stool, with his head in his crossed arms on the counter. It was a slow Tuesday, so Steve is taking advantage of this time to sleep the hangover off in 5 minute intervals. He lifts his head slightly, to give Robin a confused look.

“You want me, Steve Harrington, to pick out a movie for you and Eddie Munson? The man has never once entertained the idea of renting a movie I even express an interest in.”

“Granted, his taste is a bit… niche, but we’ve run out of movies to watch. We need a fresh pair of eyes, Steve!” Robin practically whines at him, and the noise is like a sharp object scraping against his eardrums.

“Oh my god, if you stop talking in that voice I’ll pick out a full movie festival for you.”

There’s a small mutter from Robin as he stands to search for something Eddie acceptable-ish.

“What was that?” He asks, now standing to his full height over Robin.

“Oh um, just that, maybe… Could you also drive me there when our shift is over?”

Steve exaggerates a sigh and roll of his eyes, but they both know the answer to that question.

“And why isn’t Eddie picking you up today?” He calls from the sci-fi shelves. Robin follows him over, but he turns his back to block his potential selections from her view.

“I wouldn’t normally ask. You know I hate making you drive me around everywhere. Just two more months until I get my license and you’ll be free. It’s just, Eddie’s stuck at home. His van isn’t running. I think it’s something to do with the tank? Lines? Shit, I don’t know about cars, dingus. It doesn’t go.”

Steve lets out a real laugh at that. They were few and far between, but the real laughs that could only be produced by Robin were almost as good as Eddie’s top shelf shit.

“You know I don’t mind driving you anywhere, Rob. Of course I’ll take you. Can’t let you miss the incredible film night I have prepared for you.”

“Show me what it is if it’s so incredible.” Robin giggles, trying to snatch the VHS from Steve’s hands. He holds it up above his head with a hand over the cover so she can’t read it. Robin jumps and grabs at it, the two in a fit of laughter. It’s moments like these that make the guilt catch up with Steve.

The rest of the day matches the speed of their slow morning, and the distinct lack of customers proves a strain on Steve’s mental health. His every other thought is an attack on himself, tearing him down for ditching his best friends. Sure he still spends time with them, helping the kids with homework and general chauffeur duties, taking Robin out to practice driving, single handedly keeping Eddie in business; but every attempt the others make to show him how much they care, he withdraws himself more.

Physically, he’s still there, still looks like Steve, but he laughs a little less. Most smiles fail to reach his eyes anymore. He just can’t get his mind to wrap around the concept that he deserves their effort.

Customers trickle in and out one by one until closing. Steve, exhausted and ready for a drink, rents out the movie and ushers Robin out to his car, locking the store behind them. The ride to Eddie’s is filled with Robin’s pleasant chatter and soft laughter. Steve’s state of mind is plastered all over his face and Robin can see he’s drifting into a dark place. Though she can’t outright say anything, she knows her blabbering about nothing is just distracting enough to stop his mind from wandering too far.

Before long, they’re pulling into the Forest Hills driveway, down the couple lots to Eddie’s trailer. Steve notices the spot next to Eddie’s van was empty of Wayne’s car. He pulls in, headlights glinting off the trailer windows.

“hold on a second. Robin, how were you planning on getting home if Eddie’s van isn’t running and Wayne is gone?” Steve looks at Robin, who’s been oddly quiet since turning into the trailer park. He can just barely see the mischievous smile that forms on Robin’s lips as she turns to him with just a bit too much melodrama.

“Oh nooo! I TOTALLY forgot about getting home, Steve! I guess I’ll just walk home later, in the dark, alone.” she exaggerates a sigh to really sell it.

Steve rolls his eyes. Of course he isn’t going to let Robin walk home. He wouldn’t let her in broad daylight, much less around midnight. Still, he’s a tad bit annoyed. He’s exhausted from nursing his hangover all day and ready to fall into the bottom of another bottle. He doesn’t want that to be postponed by the looming responsibility of needing to operate a car to pick Robin up.

“You could always join us, of course. No need to drive back and forth. I can even drive us back after, as long as you ‘observe’,” she says with air-quotes. Driving lessons originally scared the both of them, but they quickly discovered that since she didn’t have to move her actual body, Robin was actually quite adept behind the wheel. Most of the drives they take, Steve just zones out to the music and watches the scenery go by.

He sighs, but it’s a decent enough compromise. “Alright, fine... If I’d known this was your plan all along I would have picked a movie I’d actually enjoy,” he grumbles. They exit the car, Steve with the movie in hand, and rap on the door. It swings open a moment later to reveal a comfortable looking Eddie.

Boy is this different. Steve’s visits with Eddie typically take place away from the trailer, where he’s always keeping up appearances as the metalhead ‘freak’. This Eddie looks so… soft? His crazy hair is half pulled up in a little bun on top of his head, while the rest delicately hangs over his shoulders. He’s wearing a shirt that reads ‘IRON MAIDEN: Live After Death’. It looks like it’s been well loved, and sloppily cut to stop right above Eddie’s navel, revealing the trail of hair that leads into his black sweatpants. He finds himself thinking he understands why girls find that so attractive and quickly shoves that thought into a little box he’ll be locking up tight under about a pound of weed. He doesn’t even realize he’s just standing there, looking dumb as fuck with his mouth hanging open until Eddie finally speaks.

“Good to see you too, Harrington. Buckley.” he gives Robin a little nod as she walks past him. Steve shakes his head, pulling a hearty chuckle out of Eddie.

“Uh, yeah, man. Good to see you. Sorry, I’m kind of crashing your movie night aren’t I?”

“Not a problem, man. So, you gonna come in or what?” Steve slip past Eddie, praying to a god he isn’t sure even exists, that Eddie hasn’t noticed the heat spreading in his cheeks.

Robin is already in the kitchen, making herself at home with snacks and a couple beers for the other two. The boys accept the drinks and get comfortable in the living room. Eddie slings across the armchair sideways, his head leaning over the side, near the spot on the couch where Steve sits. Not long after, Robin sets a big bowl of popcorn on the coffee table for all three of them, and curls up into Steve’s side.

“Alright, will you finally tell me what we’re watching, Steve? Eddie, this man would not tell me what we’re watching for the entirety of our 8 HOUR shift.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know I would be joining you, and I didn’t want you complaining to me all day that my choice was stupid. Now, sit back, relax, and get ready for 87 full minutes of the most dramatic irony you will ever experience in your life.” Eddie and Robin share a confused look. When the movie starts playing, the title screen alone is enough for them to start groaning.

“Really, Steve. Strange Behavior? That couldn’t be more on the nose.” Eddie grabs a throw pillow and hits Steve in the face with it, smiling all the same.

“I know it’s on the nose, that’s why I picked it. Come on, I know you two cope with humor and this movie is ridiculous compared to the real deal!”

“You were right, Steve. I would have– no, should have complained until you picked something else,” Robin teases. They all turn their attention to the screen to watch an evil scientist experiment on teenagers and turn them into murderers.

In no way is the film intended to be funny, but they can’t help themselves as they laugh at how exaggerated and unrealistic it all is.

“Okay, come on. You’re telling me ‘I was drunk, I don't remember what happened’ is a good enough excuse? How is no one questioning how Oliver was just MISSING FROM THE PARTY when Waldo got stabbed?” Eddie hollers criticisms at the movie’s lack of consequences the whole way through. At one point, he’s out of the chair, jumping and screaming about Mildred being useless when “SHE WAS GIVEN A FULL DESCRIPTION OF HER FRIEND’S KILLER AND SHE DOES NOTHING WITH THAT INFORMATION?” Upon settling back down, his head is just slightly closer to where Steve sits, the loose bottom half of his hair falling over the arm of the couch.

With one arm wrapped around Robin, mindlessly drawing patterns in her cardigan sleeve, Steve’s other hand instinctually goes to stim somewhere else. The hand finds itself in the curly mess of hair near him, twirling it around his fingers. They stay that way in silence until the movie ends. The only noise left filling the room is Robin’s soft snoring. Eddie slowly stands, forgetting his hair is in Steve’s hand, the sudden loss of contact taking them both by surprise. A swift nod towards the trailer door is all Steve needs to detangle himself from Robin, wrapping her in a blanket before leaving.

Eddie leads them to the back doors of his van. It opens up to reveal a fort of pillows and blankets. Eddie gets comfortable and pats the spot next to him for Steve to join. Eddie pulls the little black box holding his stash out from under the driver’s seat, as Steve grabs a handful of pillows and a loose blanket to make himself a little cocoon next to Eddie.

“Cold, Harrington?” Eddie asks, not necessarily teasing. Well, maybe a little, but he doesn’t wait for a response before leaning over the center console to stick the keys in the ignition. The van starts up, filling the small space with warmth. Steve relaxes a bit as the warm air reaches him, which only reminds him of why he’s there at all.

“Hold the fuck up, dude. Robin said your car broke down?”

“Oooh, shit. I forgot that was our story. She uh, she’s actually running just fine,” Eddie replies sheepishly. He passes Steve a freshly lit joint with an appeasing smile.

“So, what? You guys made up some kind of secret mission to get me to drive Robin around? I would have said yes if you just asked.”

“Exactly! That’s why we used driving Robin as the ploy to get you here.” Steve passes the joint back with a confused look on his face.

“That hard pressed for customers, Eds?” The nickname makes Eddie chuckle, but only slightly.

“No. No, I really don’t need any more customers actually. You’ve bought up nearly my whole stock.” Steve’s eyes widen. He knows he’s smoking probably more than he needs to, but damn, not that much.

“I- fuck. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to smoke you out of house and home, jesus.”

“Hey no apologies necessary over here. If anything you’re keeping me in house and home. You’re paying my bills, Stevie.” He takes a long drag before passing it back. Steve watches as Eddie’s head tilts back, letting the smoke stream out to hit the roof of the van. His head drops back down, meeting Steve’s eyes. He tries to take a hit to play it off, as Eddie continues.

“That’s actually why we wanted you to come over. Are you doing okay? I mean like, as okay as you could be?”

Steve isn’t surprised. It isn’t the first time his behavior has alerted someone’s concern. After he and Robin experienced the highs (literally) and lows of Russian truth serum, Steve started drinking more and more in an attempt to forget what that horrible drug had felt like. Robin, of course noticed, having also been remembering that overwhelming, dread-induced, giggly feeling.

Steve sighs out his hit, rubbing a hand down his face.

“I’m doing fine, man. Really, I’m… coping.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Steve.” Eddie’s face is suddenly intense, the space between his eyebrows all but gone, his lips steeled in a frown. “You’ve been coming to see me three times a week, and I know you’re not stocking up for a rainy day because you don’t like having a large amount in case the kids find it. Don’t think just because you hide behind those sunglasses we haven’t noticed the bags under your eyes. They get darker every single day, dude. When was the last time you slept through the night?”

“Why do you care?” Steve suddenly spits back. “You just said yourself, I’m paying your bills. Isn’t it beneficial for you not to ask questions and let it happen?”

“Normally, yes, but you’re not just a dickhead rich guy who buys weed off me. I mean you are, but you’re also my friend. As a rule, Eddie Munson does not supply self destruction. And while I firmly believe weed is beneficial as a medication, that doesn’t hold true when you’re soaking up your cotton mouth with a bottle of vodka.”

Steve can’t fully process what Eddie is saying to him. He’s too caught up on the word ‘friend”. Steve likes Eddie. He’s a lot more than what he seems on the surface, even made Steve feel a bit of relief tip-toeing around vines in the Upside Down. And those lips. Fuck. But can Steve safely say they’re friends? Eddie’s incredible, but Steve doesn’t deserve incredible.

“Whiskey, actually,” Steve mutters under his breath. “Look man, I appreciate the concern. If you don’t feel comfortable selling to me anymore, I understand, but I should really get Robin back to my place, that couch is going to kill her neck.”

Eddie has no chance to react. Steve’s already out of the van, waking Robin to drive them home.

The drive is silent. Steve knows Robin set the conversation up, and Robin knows Steve knows. Maybe she thought Eddie would have a rougher approach. The whole ‘scare him straight’ tactic. It might have worked, even, if Steve could believe help was coming to him with no ulterior motive. Maybe it has to do with how he was raised, or maybe it’s his form of repentance for the way he acted in high school. Whatever the reason, he can’t see the unconditional love the others hold for him.

When they finally pull into Steve’s driveway, Robin hesitates to turn off the car. “I know you’re probably mad at me, I know. I just wanted you to see that I’m not the only one.”

“The only one? What do you mean?”

“The only one who loves you, Steve. We just don’t want to see you suffer anymore. Just, please, say something. Even if you need to yell at me. I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking… I’m thinking, I love you, Robin, and that’s never going to change. I’m not mad, really. I just don't know. I don’t know what I don’t know, I just know I don't know it.

“O– okay,” Robin says hesitantly. “So, you don’t mind if I stay over?”

“No, I don’t mind. I think I might actually need it.” Robin smiles softly at him. He means every word he says. Nothing could ever change the fact that he loves Robin. But, something is eating away at him. It was like pieces of his heart are slowly being flushed out of his body. Everyday he can feel all those positive emotions less and less.

Silence between them again, they swiftly make their way upstairs, working around each other to get ready for bed with ease. They’re a well oiled machine of toothbrushes, face washing, and pajamas.

Robin crawls into Steve’s bed after him, both laying on their sides facing each other. Their hands intertwine in a ball between them. They slept like that almost every night following the mall incident, and it still brought them comfort to talk each other to sleep.

“Hey, Rob,” Steve whispers, not wanting to disturb the comfortable quiet between them. Robin hums in response.

“I don’t know why we had to go through everything we’ve gone through. I still feel like… something is coming. I don’t know, maybe that’s dumb, but I just don’t believe it’s really over. I’m– I’m scared shitless rob.” He finally looks up from the four hands clasping each other on the bed. Robin is staring straight into his soul. She has tears in her eyes, which Steve rushes to wipe away and apologize, but she stops him.

“Thank you, Steve. For telling me. To tell you the truth, I’ve been really scared too. It just feels like every time we get comfortable we get flipped on our heads again. I know you’ve been through more than me, so it’s not the same, but I really appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me.” Steve is smacked in the face by the power of the smile she gives him. His hands detangle themselves from Robin’s and wrap around her back, pulling her in for a hug.

They sleep like that for a couple hours, until Steve wakes up from a nightmare, scars burning. The clock reads 6:30 AM, almost time to get up for their opening shift in two hours. Steve carefully pulls his arms away from Robin’s still sleeping form, and heads toward the bathroom. He checks the scars in the bathroom mirror. They look the same as always. Red. Bumpy. Disgusting.

The shirt drops with a heavy sigh and Steve trudges down the stairs to start breakfast, the only sure way to get Robin out of bed being the smell of sizzling bacon. He rounds the corner at the bottom of the stairs and enters the kitchen. Sitting out on the corner is half a bottle of whiskey. There’s a pot of coffee already brewed, still hot. Steve figures Robin must have gotten up to pee not too long ago and started the pot while she was up. He pours a cup and looks back at the bottle. Two hours was enough time to sober up after an Irish coffee. He grabs the bottle and twists the top off. The scent of the amber liquid tantalizing as it hits the mug full of coffee. He raises the drink to his lips, seconds away from taking the first sip, when it’s rudely yanked from his grip.

“What the hell?!” He shrieks, jumping at the sudden intrusion to the moment he assumed was private.

“This what you eat for breakfast every day?” Eddie stands with Steve’s stolen coffee in hand, directly in his personal space. He’s back in his typical getup, though his hair is still half up as it had been the night before. It’s not unfamiliar, Eddie leaning in too close, throwing himself all over Steve, and he sees him dressed like this more often than not, but the look on Eddie’s face makes him nervous.

“How the hell did you get in my house, Munson!” Steve realizes he’s shouting too late, as he hears shuffling on the stairs.

“Steve? What are you screaming abou–? Oh, hey Eddie.” Robin says, instantly relaxing into a smile and wave.

“Mornin, Buckley. I was just checking in on our boy here,” Eddie says with a strong hand clapping down on Steve’s shoulder. His knees buckle slightly under the weight.

“Wait, Rob, you knew he would be here? You watched me lock all the doors and you never went back downstairs. How did he get in here?”

“Duh, dingus, I gave him my key!”

“Okay, ignoring the fact that you apparently made yourself a key to my house, you then gave that key to Eddie and didn’t tell me? I thought I was about to be eaten alive by Dart.” Robin chuckles at the name. She had heard stories of Dustin’s pet demodog, though thankfully, she hadn’t been present to witness it.

“It was a necessary evil, dingus. Eddie is officially the babysitter’s babysitter!” Steve turns to look at Eddie who returns it with a smirk.

“And I need a babysitter because?”

Eddie speaks up to answer this time. “Because you have a problem, Steve. And maybe you don’t see it that way, but it’s the truth. So if I have to keep setting traps to pour down the drain until you realize you’re killing yourself and let us fucking help you, I will.” He punctuates the sentence with a flourish of the hand holding the mug, dumping the contents into the sink.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. We all cope differently, okay! You guys laugh at shitty movies about teenage murderers. Some people fuck their way through the whole town, and some people need to dull their thoughts so they can relax. What’s so wrong with that?”

“First of all, you just described three behaviors that fit yourself. Second, you are proving my point, pretty boy. You don’t see this as a problem, just like you don’t see that we really, honestly want to help you. You can kick and scream, call me a freak, annoy the shit out of me, I don’t care. I’m your friend, Steve, the same as Robin. We went through hell together, but you’re still stuck there. I’m here to lead the way out.” Steve, though annoyed, can’t help his eyes watering at the sentiment. Eddie the banished, who fought his way out of Mordor within an inch of his life, is still fighting. All for the sake of Steve. He can’t help the tears from flowing down his cheeks.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #tw drugs #tw alcohol

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sentience-if · 4 months

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(let just say something happend so MC and RO are in the same place) RO's reactions to MC knocks their door at midnight and is like "I can't sleep/ I had a nightmare / + can I come into your room?" (assuming they are at the crush stage)? Thank u!!

connie: so half-asleep and baffled by the request they just nod and let it happen. the reality of it doesn't hit until hours later at like 2 AM; suddenly Connie can't sleep

Val: is likely used to this and doesn't think anything of it. refuses to let themself think of it as anything but platonic. come on in lets get cozy <3

Ira: Will ask about the nightmare, offer to make Io tea to knock them out. will stay up until they fall back asleep. is super flattered Io would seek them out and can't stop thinking about the implications

Kat: oh, poor baby. Kat will keep you safe ;) would you like a nightcap? a fucked up bed time story? a good night kiss?

Klaus: unless Io is clearly unsettled, be prepared to be teased to death. you might regret it. are you sure you had a nightmare? you don't have to make excuses, you know.

#ask #sentience if #val #constantine #klaus #ira #kat

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mushroom-madness · 1 year

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🍄 MUSHROOM MADNESS BRACKET🍄

🍄 Here are all of our matchups! 🍄

Popular Picks are in white, while our Underdogs are in yellow! This way we’ll be able to see how far any of our underdogs get! (Also for ease of reading the bracket) Typed up list (w/ eventual link to polls) under the cut!

1. Breloom (Pokémon) VS The Truffle (Terraria)

2. Shrumal Warrior(Hollow Knight) VS Muttshroom (Mother 3)

3. Morelull (Pokémon) VS Marabelle Cybin/Marabelle the Terrible (Not Another D&D Podcast)

4. Apothecary Gary (Amphibia) VS Amanita (Green Lantern) VS Galwyn (Troll, 1986)

5. Leif (Bug Fables) VS Princess Shroob (Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time)

6. Mycologists (Inscryption) VS Tarin (The Legend of Zelda: Links Awakening)

7. Mister Mushroom (Hollow Knight) VS Akaboshi Bisco (Sabikui Bisco)

8. Mooshroom (Minecraft) VS Violet and Tate (Monster Prom)

9. Brown Slim Mushroom (Everhood) VS Shrumbo (Ooblets)

10. Danielle Barkstock (D20) VS Mushroomon/Mushmon (Digimon)

11. Ragel (Undertale) VS Hattifatteners (Moomin)

12. Amanita (Just Dance) VS Slimefoot (Magic the Gathering)

13. Toad (Mario) VS Shrub Berry (Empires SMP)

14. Walking Mushroom (Delicious in Dungeon) VS Master Firbolg (The Adventure Zone: Graduation)

15. Todd from Mario (Drawfee) VS Magic Myc (Inside Job)

16. Jade Leech (Twisted Wonderland) VS Nightcap (Plants VS Zombies: Battle for Neighborville)

17. Twirly-Whirly (Genshin Impact) VS Chio the Korok (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

18. Toadette (Mario) VS Nightcap (Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch)

19. Moonshine Cybin (Not Another D&D Podcast) VS Puff Shroom (Plants VS Zombies)

20. Sozo (Cult of the Lamb) VS Kinoko Komori (My Hero Academia)

21. Puffstool (Pikmin) VS Myconids (Dungeons and Dragons, 5th Edition)

22. Bongo-Head (Genshin Impact) VS Shroomish (Pokémon) VS Malcom (Squishmallow)

23. Caduceus Clay (Critical Role) VS Josh (Dominion SMP)

24. Mushroom Pikmin (Pikmin) VS Red Dead Mushroom (Everhood)

25. Zommoth (Bug Fables) VS Room (Join the Party)

26. Stanley (Spiritfarer) VS Fleeble (Ooblets)

27. Poison Mushroom Cookie (Cookie Run) VS Shumi (Shumi Come Home)

28. En (Dorohedoro) VS White Mushroom Emblem Heartless (Kingdom Hearts)

29. Clickers (The Last of Us) VS Hypno-Shroom (Plants VS Zombies)

30. The Nomes (Little Nightmares) VS Shrooom! (Earthbound)

31. Ramblin Evil Mushroom (Earthbound) VS Kinoko (Katamari)

32. Truffles Daal (Chowder) VS Cappy (Kirby)

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seven-thewanderer · 3 months

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Okay I'm up, feelin good, so now it's time for a second sectuin of art-dumping:

Forkface.

It is just mainly Forky, but hear me out:

While I was gone, I began thinking: What if I made a VR Model of Forky (my design)? (I have no 3dmodel-making experience mind you XD)

So I began scheming!!

Firstly, I made these reference sheets for Forky!!

(Also Forky's colors for each different form) (I'll add IDs for each)

I imagined for this model for Forky that they'd also have a few accessories/abilities:

Firstly, their face plate does open, and they do have an option for a nightcap ...I still haven't gotten a design idea for those, however... (also I did imagine for the hat a bit though, if they wear it with the rays, 7 of the rays - 3 big, 4 small - would go down for the hat to fit mostly, instead of stabbing through the hat. It'd also have a poofy end, not a bell)

Secondly, Forky would have an option to pull out a clown horn!! Yes I did get this idea from them playing Lethal Company

(I know I shared the image here already, but I'll share it again just to show what I mean again:)

I also decided they'd have:

A sign (and markers)!! This was also based on them playing Lethal Company

But ye they can write down on a sign what they want to say!!

(since I originally drew it based on a Lethal Company Moment, here's those drawings:)

(I did also make a third sign one for them, but more as a joke, rather than a reference: Smug)

(yes this one is a blank one that can be filled in, I did like... 10 examples, I just kinda don't feel like posting them all) (some examples though were one that just said "*Breathing Noises*", one that said "Balls.", and another that was just a drawing of among us)

If this did exist in VrChat (which I don't even know if a model w/ a whiteboard would work in actuality), they'd probably be able to change the color of the marker they use. The whiteboard could also be dropped & picked up by others

Finally (I think finally?), I may or may not have imagined them to have another form based on this video (which I kept watching too much cus I found it both cool and hilarious):

They have a nightmare/dream form

(honestly I forgot the stars on the pants cus I didn't feel like coloring it so I did quickly color & forgot the pant stars)

But yeah this form of Forkface only would appear in people's dreams/nightmares (lore-wise), but as a model would just be another form they can swap to. (they can also still change color palettes in this form, but I didn't color that in) (I also may or may not have imagined for the dream form I made that Forky can actually breath a faint lavender-colored gas to cause someone to dream or to have a nightmare... like Catnap...)

I believe that's it, I don't know, but that was basically all I imagined for if my Forky design had a Vrchat Model

#my art #please don't steal my art thank u!!!#SAMS Forkface #Forky #Sun and Moon Show #SAMS #it's funny also tho I imagined all this if my design had a VR model #and I don't even have Vrchat #let alone a VR headset XD #I just imagined this all for funsies tho #(I did also try to make a 3d model of Forky... but that just proved even more I have no idea how to work 3d models lol)#but yeyeye that's everything #(also I misspelled 'Section' at the start but I found it too funny to fix)

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risingblackmoon · 10 months

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OK. It's not PERFECT, but it's... Good enough. I'll cope.

I'll have a full breakdown under the cut bc I don't like my handwriting HFNFHG also I didn't. Have enough space... BUT YEA HERE THEY ARE!!! MY BOYS!!

First thing I want to note is that their heads aren't THAT oval.. I just already had the face down and it looked good, so I went with it. The Sun doodle is actually more accurate! Here's two(three?) more examples of their "real" face shape

Also yes I did retrace their hands for the palm reference, and I did reuse the stars for Moon's hat and pants. I am...not good at drawing hands or stars.... And I wanted this reference to look decent at least..

With that out of the way, here's the actual breakdown!

You could say both attendants have a rather bland face, having only a simple two-toned faceplate with swirls of the opposing color on each side. That being said, they still need to emote (my art relies HEAVILY on facial expressions), which is where it gets a little interesting! When expressing anything other than neutrality, they get EYEBROWS!!! Every time these appear, the right eyebrow will have a swirl at the end facing either up or down depending on the emotion being conveyed- a homage to the swirl symbol above this eye in the game! Speaking of their eyes, yea, they have different colored eyes. Sun's are pure white, as is the LED behind them! When his face is being shadowed, or he's in a dark room, these LED pupils are more clear. Moon's, however, are clearly different- but but but, there's a reason for that! See, my Moon was made to look scary in order to "scare the monsters and nightmares away"! So he loops back around to being comforting. That's why his "teeth" are sharp and angular as opposed to Sun's straight and square ones (of which I really only draw his tooth gap)! The last thing I want to talk about in regards to their face area is Sun's rays and Moon's cap. It may LOOK like Sun has 5 rays, but that's not entirely true. He actually has two smaller ones on either side of his neck, but they're hidden behind his collar, making 7! Technically, he has 4 more too, but he never has those out... He thinks they're too sharp. For Moon's nightcap, I wanted to have the brim be extra fluffy! Depending on which way he's facing, that's where the fluff will be (unless he's facing the front, in which it defaults to the right). The tail end of his night cap almost always sticks out in the opposite direction of his fluff, but it's not mandatory.

Now, onto their clothes. Instead of ruffles, I gave them butterfly bows! There's no real in-world reason for this like a lot of my other design features, I just can't draw ruffles and I thought the bows looked neat. They do add a nice separation between their high collars and their chest, I suppose. Speaking of, their high collar and sleeves are secured inside their chest piece and are completely removable! As are their pants and ribbons. The high collar prevents children from gripping at their metal "neck", while the soft sleeves and pants are simply more cuddly than plastic casing. The sleeves are also inspired by Shandzii's Sun and Moon designs!! I could be mistaken, but I think their Sun and Moon are what dragged me into the depths of the DCA fandom!! Go check them out if you haven't already. Back to the design breakdown, the sleeves and collar are colored with the same colors present on their chests. The sleeves on both attendants differ in design, though, just like their arms beneath them. I wanted to switch the colors on each sleeve in correlation to the side they're on, but I also wanted to keep their canon design elements.. So I gave Sun solid-colored sleeves, and Moon gradients! Beneath the sleeves, Moon and Sun have the same patterns they do in security breach (except the gray on Sun is replaced with the warmer yellow on his chest/sleeves). Their leg casings share this as well.

Sun and Moon's hands diverge from canon just a tad bit. Their fingers share the same color as the darker side of their faceplates, because I didn't want to abandon those colors!! But the most interesting part has to be their paw pads. I saw some people do it, and I just couldn't resist! Paws!!! They're soft AND squeakable! They're also present on the soles of their feet, too! Squeak squeak squeak... I also gave them retractable claws sharing the same color as their paw pads, which borrow the colors of Sun's rays and Moon's ribbons. They're there to assist in security and their general acrobatics across the daycare! After getting struck with the virus, Moon not only has them out all the time, but has sharpened them as well... Not cool, Moonie. Your claws were blunt for a REASON!!!

There's not much to say about their ribbons aside from the fact the ribbon around their middle ties into a lovely bow in the back! Oh, and they ALL change color, unlike in the main game. That's not a dig at the canon design, Moon looks stunning in red! I just wanted to keep a consistent color scheme for both attendants..

That's about it! Thanks for making it this far! Here's a sketch of my current design of Eclipse as a treat! They're messy, but that's on purpose.

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop fnaf #moondrop fnaf #fnaf sunrise #fnaf moonrise #fnaf dca #goobers <3 #this isn't perfect but I'll cope

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