#dark blonde male adult

[beautifulfaaces]

David Thewlis

Facts

March 20, 1963

English actor

Filmography

John Dee [Sandman: 2022]

Lawrence [The Feed: 2019]

V.M. Varga [Fargo: 2017]

Remus [Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2: 2011]

Martin [The Inner Life of Martin Frost: 2007]

Santini [American Perfect: 1997]

Oswald [Dandelion Dead: 1994]

Paul [A Bit of a Do: 1989]

Stew [Only Fools and Horses....: 1985]

Appearance

dark blonde

blue eyes

1.90m

Roleplay

playable: young adult, adult

Icons: Legend | Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

#David Thewlis #male 60s #male english #60s male english #sandman #the feed #fargo #harry potter and the deathly hallows #the inner life of martin frost #american perfect #danelion dead #a bot of a do #only fools and horses #dark blonde male young #dark blonde male adult #60s male dark blonde #blue eyes male young #blue eyes male adult #60s male blue eyes #young adult male #adult male

[itsonlydana]

"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

you went out clubbing on new years eve when a gorgeous rich couple hits on you and invites you back to their apartment to finish what you started right on the dancefloor

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, modern!AU, threesome, oral sex (male & female), dirty talk, semi-public-sex, soft dom! bard and bratty dom!thranduil, protected sex, fingering, passing out during sex, slight overstimulation, age-gap (reader is of age, though its described that thranduil and bard are older), hairpulling, aftercare,

words: 13,8k

an: this is by far the dirtiest thing i've ever written and my god i'm not a smut writer; i get too flustered over my own writing lmao. Hopefully you can enjoy this out-of-character story even if it isn't new years anymore!

inspired by early 2000s club bangers like Kesha, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas (that's where the title came from) and Lady Gaga

+ masterlist + 

🌿 reposts and comments or anonymous messages in my inbox are very appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"What?!"

"I said," the barkeeper leaned closer and pushed a filled to the rim shotglass over the counter, "this one is from the pretty one to your right!"

With a myriad of people in this club who fit your definition of "pretty" you found yourself on the brink of shouting at the red-haired bartender once more.

This would mark the third attempt, given that the club's 2000s music was blaring to the extent that communication was damn near impossible if you weren't screaming or using your hands trying to get orders across the sticky, littered with neon glowstick wristbands counter.

Before you could ask her who the hell she'd meant, the bartender had turned away, leaving you to figure out the mystery man for yourself.

You lifted the shot glass to your nose and took a deep breath— pure tequila.

At least you would enjoy this one; the last few shots other men had sent over to you had been nothing but disgusting, ranging from vodka to Jägermeister and one you didn't even bother to drink.

The world spun a little when you turned your head over your shoulder and for a second the flashy lights blurred the people crowding the bar into one mass, unidentifiable and mushed together; then your eyes zeroed in on him and pretty didn't even begin to cover it.

Next to the bar, holding out his own shot glass in hands that could've fit three or five of them, stood a man that was intimidatingly gorgeous and decently tall even as he rested his hip cheekily against one of the chairs, elbow on the wooden top while he flicked his fingers against the rim of the glass.

Not even that he was just tall, and he was –surely taller than most of the men standing between you two –, but he had this quality about him that let him stand out of the crowd.

Maybe it was the hair, blonde like starlight and pulled into a long and messy ponytail, with just a few loose strands framing his strong jawline. Or maybe it was the smug look on his face, the smirk that tugged on his lips when you dragged your eyes over the see-through shirt that clung to his well... and oh so– so well-defined chest.

On any other occasion, you would have simply raised the glass and disappeared back into the crowd of dancing people, but tonight felt different.

New Year's Eve had that ring to it. The careless "Fuck it all, it's all going to shit anyway"-attitude.

Any newspaper or media marked today the last day of yet another frustrating, wonderful, soul-crushing, draining, exciting, and overall overwhelming year, full of things you regretted having done, and as you stared at the man meeting your gaze with a questioning arch of a dark eyebrow, you found yourself giving a flying fuck about whether you'll add another mark on that board.

There was a surge of power washing through your body as you toasted the glass in his direction before tipping it against your lips and letting the tequila rush into your mouth.

The alcohol went down burning, hot, and dry and left a warm trail down your throat into your stomach.

"I see you not only bear a resemblance to the devil, you drink like her as well," a sultry voice drawled, sufficiently loud for you to lift your head.

Somehow the man had managed to appear right next to you within seconds and got so close that you were confronted with a very exciting view of his chest.

You eyed it, naturally because who wouldn't take their time looking at the flexing pecs covered in silver glitter and sweat?

Slowly, you dragged your gaze upwards, only faltering for a moment at the sight of a pink tongue running over plush lips. You met his eyes again, this time with no more than half a meter separating you and you were glad your knees didn't buckle like they threatened to do.

"And what are you? Some angel that has fallen from heaven?" Your counter was weak, a bad example of what was usually some excellent flirting, if you dare say yourself, but it's all you could manage with those cerulean eyes staring down at you in interest.

He laughed, thank fucking god, and tilted his head to the side. "It must be fate that we met, is it not?"

"Buy me another drink and we'll see"

Somehow, it didn't surprise you that he simply raised his pointer finger and the server immediately rushed to prepare whatever order he'd signaled her.

"Unfair, I waited, like at least five minutes for some water," you complained, not really putting any real annoyance into it but pouting nonetheless for the effect.

It went a long way because the stranger stepped closer, up into the little bit of personal space one could have in an overcrowded club, and cooed, "What a shame. Who could ever pass such a lovely face and not serve you right away?"

"I don't know," you sighed and smiled at him sweeter than sugar, "I do know that we shouldn't let that tequila go to waste though"

"Then be a good girl and drink up"

Oh, yeah.

Suppose you hadn't already contemplated sleeping with him, that certainly solidified your decision.

This wasn't just fate, this must be compensation for all the shit you've been through this year, wrapped up nicely in 6 feet and more of dripping sex and sultry smiles.

Eyes locked, you both clinked the glasses together before throwing them back. You couldn't help it when your lashes flutter shut.

Once again, the tequila burned all the way down to your stomach, adding to the cocktail of drinks that lowered your inhibitions and made your core throb in excitement.

You would've asked him for salt and lemon if he hadn't looked so unbothered by the pure taste. His lips didn't twitch, while you're sure yours were pulled into a grimace.

"Thank you, Sir," the words left your mouth without a second thought.

Thinking, in general, started to become more of a theory than something you were willing to do tonight; much too exhausting if you could simply let your tongue run wild.

He rewarded you for that decision, for his eyes widened and he stepped even closer, now slotting one of those long legs - and fuck, was he really wearing leather pants? Who had access to your wet dreams?- between yours as he leaned down.

"I must say you caught my interest the moment I saw you on the dance floor," He placed a hand on the countertop, not touching you yet, though the invitation he gave you, the silent question for permission, spoke for itself.

The second move was on you to lure him in and you blinked up at him while you trailed your fingers over the arm, scratching hairless skin with the tip of your nails until it changed into the fishnet top and you placed the hand to rest on one strong shoulder. The red color of your nail polish made such a beautiful contrast to his fair skin that your mind conjured imagines of how they must look on other parts of him.

Surely, with the size of him…

Now that you initiated the contact, he drove forward with his second hand, and the large palm cupped your chin.

While the touch was hot in how it's delivered, so dominating, and fuck if that didn't send warm licks of pleasure down your spine, his hand itself was surprisingly cold.

The temperature in the club was almost unbearable, only manageable through refreshing drinks and a trip or two to the bathrooms, and the spikes of the cool touch fought the heat pooling in your body.

One of those silky locks of hair brushed your neckline, falling right into the cut out of your dress that his eyes shamelessly took in from his higher-up viewpoint.

You took a deep breath, maybe even pushed out your chest as he eyed it in the knowledge that the lace bra was showing through.

All you inhaled was the intoxicating smell of his cologne, vanilla (even though you suspected he is anything but...), and something sweet and without a doubt expensive.

You're addicted to it the moment it hit your nose and clouded your mind.

"Do you not believe that an appropriate thank you is in order?" he inquired; no, he demanded.

You decided to play dumb, not because you thought he's into that – on the contrary, he seemed the kind of man who admired eloquence and intellect rather than dullness – but because it's a game you both enjoyed playing.

There was intrigue in tip-toeing around what is most obvious (lust as well as the urge to rip each other's clothes off as soon as possible, maybe even a fuck in the bathrooms).

"I thought I already said thank you," you mused, pushing out your lower lip into a pout again, "and that lousy shot is hardly worth more than a few words. You can't expect something greater if there is nothing to thank for."

He raised a dark eyebrow – you wondered if he colored his hair or eyebrows – and the hand around your chin lifted your head to twist it right and left.

One smooth thumb brushed over the pout, and he clicked his tongue. "Now now, I would consider this greedy if you were not in the right. You poor thing must be exhausted after all the dancing"

His eyes flashed when yours widened; he really did notice you before, had watched you.

"Yes," he drawled as if he read your mind, and his lips curved into a smirk that flashed a row of perfect bright teeth, "I saw how you moved out there, how wanton you presented yourself. However, it did not escape my notice that you rebuffed anyone who dared to approach."

When you opened your mouth to say something, his finger swiped over your lip again. Without hesitation, you sucked on the fingertip, collecting a few drops of tequila that you made a show of swallowing.

The protest disappeared with it down your throat.

He was right, why deny it?

The way you danced was just an expression of how comfortable you felt in your own body, the rhythm provided by provocative music a tool to follow the movements.

Everything you did, you did for yourself, not for the men who attempted to touch you simply because they were captivated by the dancing. As if you would accept some clammy hands grabbing for you.

"Maybe it was wanton," you said after releasing his finger, but not without scratching your teeth over it.

His pupils dilated, his chest raised at a sudden inhale of air; he apparently underestimated you.

You nodded your head toward the dance floor, "maybe I came here to look for a good fuck, but it's my decision who I take and not theirs"

"As you should. Those boys who tried and failed miserably were amusing to watch. None of them were good enough for you, right, sweetheart?"

You hummed in agreement as well as disagreement. "I'm not searching for anyone good enough," you thought back to all the good-guys who had lured you in with promises of treasuring you only to become insufferable with their need to control in the end.

"Then what do you need?"

"I want someone bad," the tone in your voice was challenging, just like the stare you gave him. "I want someone who won't be afraid to break me"

There was a slight tug on your chin, his hand pulled you in slightly but any further without any movement from you, it would've cause a strain in your neck.

You craved it.

The blonde god, he must be, the thought became clearer with any passing second, a gift, a god, an angel, crushed his mouth against yours. There was a fleeting moment where you realized you didn't know his name, but then his other hand wrapped around your neck, and your teeth clashed, and you found yourself not caring one bit.

You're sure he wouldn't mind if you moaned "God" instead of his name. Maybe he would even get off to it.

Only one way to find out.

It turned out quite hard to manage saying anything at all, his kisses stole every last bit of oxygen, robbing you of the ability to string together words and turning you into a whimpering mess with his tongue and wandering hands.

He called you a devil yet here he was, corrupting you in a way that will ruin you for any other person.

"You taste divine," he sounded as breathless as you felt when you separated and dizziness cultivated in your lust-clouded head at the compliment rasped in that deep voice of his.

"Do not worry," he continued, smearing the string of spit that connected you over your plush lips, "If you allow me I will try my very best to break you"

Hell or heaven, wherever he was leading you right now, your need tripped over itself eagerly.

When was the last time you were this aroused? You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter, and that only through his words and kisses; the state he could push you into if he truly fucked you would be completely new territory, you realized.

A nod is all you could manage.

The last you saw on his face was a wide grin before he kissed you again, this time though, he moved on to your jaw and then your neck. You beared it to him by tilting your head, eyes falling on the ceiling where the neon lights hushed over black brick, coloring your sight while your face took on a flushed red.

The blond devil nipped and bit, sucked and scratched in a manner so animalistic you wouldn't have thought a surely unquestionably sophisticated man to be able to.

You whimpered again, and your hands rose to grab something, anything and you found that ponytail the most accessible. Your fingers twirled a few soft strands as you gasped when his teeth sunk into the delicate skin right where your neck and shoulder met, and the slight pain following wasn't unwelcome.

It made you feel alive.

You're close to pulling him away to the bathroom– an amused laugh to your side prevented that thought from festering any further.

"I'm away for one smoke and you just couldn' wait?"

Unable to think straight after the assault on your neck, it took a moment for you to come back to your senses that don't revolve around lips, kiss, bite, fuck, suck…

Your sight spun as you snapped your head back, nearly knocking your chin into the man still busy marking you up, unbothered that there was another man watching you and clearly waiting for an answer.

So you decided to do the only thing that must convince him to let go, and you pulled on his hair.

He growled, fucking growled, and his lips twisted, flashing his teeth again.

Your heart dropped into your wet panties until you found he wasn't pinning you to the floor with the hard stare but the new arrival.

"Did you not see that I was busy?" he snapped at the dark-haired man, and while you felt slightly scared he was going to rip his handsome head off, the man only sported an annoyed expression.

"Yes, exactly. If I remember correctly, we decided to wait until I get back?"

Decided, waited?

"You took too long"

The man threw his head back in a raspy laugh, "Incorrigible bastard. Will I have to sit you down with a toy to keep you busy while I'm away?"

The blonde turned back to you and smirked, "That will not be necessary as I am quite capable of finding my own toys"

"Hey!" you cut into the conversation, not amused that they talked as if you weren't right there, "I'm not a fucking toy!"

Both men turned to you now, towering over you in their height, and mustering you so intensely that you slightly squirmed under their gaze.

The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled. "I am so sorry, Darlin'. I hope Thranduil didn't play too hard?"

Considering that you still felt the scratch of his teeth on your neck and the wet spit he left there, you felt like some kind of chew toy one would throw their dog but nevertheless, you pushed your chin up high. "Nothing I can't take."

The blonde's, Thranduil's, hand on your waist pulled you into him possessively. "I told you there is some bite behind the pretty face," he smirked.

While it didn't escape you that this hinted to a previous conversation, a plan formed over you, it's the attractiveness of them that led you to turn a blind eye.

"Weren't you the one biting a minute ago?" The music made it hard to talk normally and you stood up on your tiptoes to yell the words, but all that it resulted in is a deep chuckle.

"Oh, I like you," the other man laughed as well.

You took him in, the tight pants that showed off strong thighs and the black and gold shirt with more buttons open than actually buttoned that presented muscles and hair leading down and oh–

"What a surprise," you said, looking up to meet his hungry eyes, "I find I like you too" You turned your head to Thranduil, who smirked and sent you a wink that had you blushing, "So how's this gonna work? I'm going to be blunt and say that five minutes ago I was convinced you and I were on the same page, what's with your friend?"

"Husband"

"Husband?!" you parroted, unconvinced yet when your eyes fell on their hands a gold ring flashed back at you from both fingers.

Heat curled in your body like molten lava at lustful and otherwise utterly inappropriate thoughts this provoked of these two married man having their way around your body.

Thranduil bowed his head lower again, playfully nipping at the part of your neck that surely was already bruising. "I have to admit that I promised Bard to wait for him to come back, though I found I could not follow through when I saw you approaching the bar."

You swallowed. Hard. Not that it helped your very dry throat.

Bard came closer, reclaiming your attention.

His face, more defined than Thranduil's, was adorned with a rugged layer of dark stubble, crow's feet framing his vivid green eyes when he smiled at you. He looked the picture of a soft soul, but you remembered that this couple was picking up a third partner on New Year's Eve, so you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

There was some spice behind the old-armchair-and-book-vibes.

"Will that be a problem, Darlin'?" he asked in that ruff voice, posh and Welsh accent dripping over you.

A refreshment to hear that accent in this city, so enthralling in how it wrapped around you; especially that damn nickname. There was no way you would say no to him.. both of them if he called you Darling one more time.

You shook your head. "No. I think I'll just need a bit more liquid encouragement if I am to survive this night."

"Oh, what a shame," Thranduils lips left where they continued to suck and lap on your neck, peppering kisses, leaving bruises, and moved to your earlobe. His voice dropped as much into a whisper as the music allowed it, "I had my hopes on fucking you into heavenly spheres"

There went the last string of sanity holding you back.

Hearing a man who was seemingly hell-bent on avoiding abbreviations like "don't" and "can't" at all costs speak in such a filthy way was something you never knew you needed.

"I hope you can follow through with that," you trailed a hand over his smooth chest, collecting glitter on your way and smeared it over his throat where his adams apple bobbed, "because if you break that promise like you did the one with your husband, I will just have to let him finish the job"

Thranduil yanked you back into him, back into a kiss that seared itself into your memories and burned the touch, taste, and movement of his lips into every cell of your body.

It was almost aggressive how much teeth went into the kiss, how he bit down and all you could do was gasp and whimper.

Briefly, you thought of the poor people around you, because if all you wanted to do was get a drink and were confronted with one person devouring the other, you would be seething but right now you were being the one he kissed, whose sounds he swallowed and whose hands held you to him.

So fuck them.

With your senses heightened now that you wanted these men all over you, the sensation of Bard leaning in, hair tips tickling your neck as he licked Thranduil's throat, led you to pull away from the blonde. You watched as Bard sprinkled something flaky and white onto the spot wet with spit, and only when he lifted a shot glass the thought crystalized that he salted Thranduil for you.

"Come on," Thranduil's smirk taunted you just as much as his words, "What is another lousy shot? We even made it easy for you poor baby, after you could not take the first one easily"

Rolling your eyes at the mocking, you dove in to copy Bard. The salt sticking to his neck coated your tongue and you took longer than necessary to lick the skin free of it. The rush that this sent through you was exhilarating.

As soon as you were finished, your head got tilted backward firm and yet gently.

Rough fingertips cupped your neck and one thumb moved to press against your jaw, as you felt a solid chest in your back.

"Open wide, Darlin'," Bard ordered and encouraged you to follow him as his other thumb pushed between your teeth.

You obeyed, never once breaking eye contact with Thranduil and taking in his lust-blown pupils, as Bard poured the tequila into your mouth, directly down your throat. Then, while you pulled a grimace, shutting your eyes for a second, Bard turned you around, sandwiching you between them.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw the green slice of lemon between his teeth and following the wink he sent you; you knew exactly what was to come next.

Kissing Bard was very different from getting kissed by Thranduil.

His lips were slightly cracked, not soft and they tasted like smokey whiskey and cigarettes, with hints of coffee and lime instead of fruity cocktails and rose chapstick. Lifting one hand to his face, your fingertips grazed the rough beard growing on his sharp jawline, the stubble scratching you in a promising way.

While you had been surprised when Thranduil had kissed you, you eagerly answered Bard's kiss with fervor. Your mind already teetered on the brink of shutting down and you poured the desperation into his mouth with a moan.

He chuckled, drawing back just enough that he could spit out the lemon – sucked empty – before wiping his thump over your lips.

"Sweet thing"

There was a softness in that gesture, but only short-lived before he kissed you again. His hands trailed your body, coming to rest on either side of your neck again and even that slight of pressure loaded a million images through your head.

A second pair of hands joined him on you, it's confusing until a large body pressed into your back and you realized- it was only Thranduil.

Well, only…

It had been clear that the man could and would not accept being reduced to anything. He radiated an attitude that you would call bratty but with his expensive clothes, that rich perfume, and the wave of the hand that brought him drinks, aristocratic diva seemed more fitting.

His demanding character became clear when his hands set on your waist, immediately fingering the seam of your jeans, pulling you more into him by the belt loops.

You followed that tug, though Bard deepened the kiss to keep you by him, his tongue exploring your mouth and enticing you to breathlessly moan against his smiling lips.

Despite the loud music, Thranduil's voice was loud in your ear.

"As stunning as you right now, I can not help but imagine you squirming on our silk sheets– moving those bewitching hips of yours," Thranduil playfully took the burning tip of your ear into his mouth, "If you want to follow this invitation, of course"

"Whatever you just said," Bard broke away from you to look over your shoulder at his husband, "It better have been the idea of finally getting out of here" he pushed his hips against yours for you to feel the hard outline of him, "because I don't want to wait til the ball drops"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"Thran–" There was a warning edge in Bard's voice, and you felt Thranduil huff.

"Funny, how this old man can not take a joke as soon as he is aroused"

It's absurd how casually he said this while his hands slid down the front of your jeans, earning himself a gasp from you.

Unashamed as a man only his status can be, he toyed with the seam of your underwear, not caring one bit for the glare of his husband.

Your body arched into him, answering the question he had whispered earlier.

The only thing keeping you from getting down on your knees to worship him and his obviously talented fingers was the blaring music, reminding you that you were not yet somewhere private and very much on display.

You briefly wondered if these two were rich enough to simply pay their way out of a public indecency arrest. You wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even get arrested.

Since Thranduil made no sign of disengaging himself from you, you stepped away from him, right against Bard's chest.

"Shall we go? Your husband mentioned luxury sheets which I bet are more comfortable than a threesome on the dance floor"

The way out of the club presented itself as more difficult than you would have thought.

With Bard shoving a path through the dancing crowd in front of you, holding on to one hand, Thranduil breathing down your neck and you pausing now and again because "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" it took a lot longer than necessary.

Not that any one of you minded.

Lost in the mass of people shouting, dancing, and pushing you three closer together and the tequila in your bloodstream you ended up undulating to Nicki Minaj's 'Pound The Alarm' completely lost on the fact that both men had stopped to watch you.

The lights were colorful and sharp and in their hues, Bards and Thranduil's jawlines looked even sharper tinted red, blue, green, and whenever the disco ball flashed white across their faces the lust in their eyes caused shivers on every part of you.

Thranduil's hands moved to your lower abdomen, making it easy to grind against him as you raised your hands to Bard's strong shoulders.

Two huge pairs of hands gripped your waist from either side and held you steady and close to themselves, keeping everyone else from getting any nearer than they allowed.

"Fucking hell– Darlin' you drive me crazy!" Bard yelled over the music as you suddenly decided to drop down intact with the beat, dragging your nails over his torso.

You laughed, low and full-heartedly.

Coming up, his hands moved to the flushed skin that your shirt had revealed by riding up, holding you tight to sweep you away into a kiss.

One thigh, leather, and flexing muscles shoved itself between your thighs and you responded eagerly, grinding against it without a second thought.

Just when you thought you were ready to finally go, the song ended and faded into yet another pop hit. 'LoveGame' by Lady Gaga and intact of the low thumping beat, Thranduil's hips circle against your behind, pressing what was an impressive hardness into your arse while his deep voice switched from singing to humming the lyrics.

One of his hands spread over your abdomen, the other arm blindly reached for Bard and pulled him into a kiss right over your head.

Amid the mass of sweaty people and the multicolor array of colors flashing over Thranduil's blonde hair, the 2000s music blaring through the speakers and resonating in every cell of your fevered body, they looked hot enough for the porn industry to sign them under contract.

You were never making it out of the club.

You did make it out eventually, sweat dripping down your temple, Thranduil's chest in your back whenever you stumbled, his hands steadying you.

On what you assumed was an oversight or blind eye of the club owners the crowd had doubled in the last hour.

Far too many people joined the floor and even with Bard's commanding presence leading you it had been close to impossible to step forward and not swerve out of the way of someone drunk.

Outside, the line curved around the block, and those who waited or didn't get into the club or even just hung in groups celebrating on the streets blocked the whole sidewalk.

A number of fireworks were already soaring into the air, sent up there by early birds who couldn't wait until midnight – cheered up by loud excited screams and laughter as the dark night sky lit up here and there with colorful explosions.

Quite sobered up, the dancing had contributed to that, you stared at them.

"How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?" you asked and crossed your arms in front of you; the winds were biting cold and you hadn't bothered bringing a jacket, "It's madness."

"We will just get a cab"

You barked out a laugh though Bard stayed completely serious.

"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" you rubbed your palms over the naked skin, still warm and thrumming with the afterglow of the unbearable heat of the club, although the cold fought hard and unfairly.

"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," Thranduil said, not bothered by the chaos of people pushing each other, waving their hands like they're trying to flag down a spaceship.

On this day, the chances for that to happen were more likely than actually getting a cab.

He took one step into the busy street, and you yelped, overcome by the shock that he just walked into fucking traffic, his long ponytail swaying with his steps.

Then, like movie magic, a car swerved to the side and stopped right next to Thranduil.

Bard pulled you along, your hand cradled to his chest so as not to lose you. Thranduil opened the door, gracefully sitting down behind the empty passenger seat.

You stumbled onto the back seat next to him, and mumbled a half-hearted "Hello" to the driver, who gave you a nod – a nod, an hour before midnight, from a cap driver, fucking miracles– before shut the plastic window close.

"Holy crap," you exhaled. "Is this what the high life's like? Getting drinks and cabs without any fucking effort?"

Despite the crude and cutting words swinging in their direction, Bard and Thranduil chuckled. The synchronized deep sound reverberated in the quiet cab, warming up the space instantly.

"Do you really think that this" – Thranduil languidly gestures to all of him – "takes no effort?"

Bard huffed. He leaned into you as if he wanted to whisper a secret, but didn't lower his voice: "We were supposed to be here five hours ago. Took him that long to figure out what to wear." He shot a teasing grin at his husband.

"Oh, I have had enough of your whining," In one elegant movement Thranduil folded one long leg over the other. The point of his boot caught your shin in a soft tap that drew your attention to him.

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If you are interested, though, I could show you what it is like to ride the waves of the high life"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"No," Bard's lips ghosted over your neck, peppering more kisses to the skin there, "A promise for an unforgettable high"

You were unable to think of what they could propose.. well, you could, but they wouldn't, not here in this cap, right?

Bard's legs were spread a little far apart and, fuck, the flickering lights of the city flying by highlighted a very prominent bulge that he made no effort of hiding. Was he going commando?!

Your eyes snapped back, burning a hole into the roof of the cab.

A hand fell behind you on the headrest at the same moment as Thranduil's cold fingers slipped onto your thigh.

Thranduil's hand snuck to your jeans and played with the button and zipper before,

Oh-

he opened your jeans and immediately slid his cold, long, slender fingers down your panties.

Oh, fuck

Your hips twitched into his hand and you had to bite down on your finger to muffle the gasp that itched behind your teeth.

Without a care in the world, Thranduil cupped your sex, mumbling something to himself under his breath that sounded like a "So fucking wet- for us?" and worked his middle finger into you.

Pulling it out again, he started circling your clit, smearing your own slick over it, moving right over the spot where your nerve endings were sparking white and hot and you shuddered uncontrollably.

The chill of his fingertips heightened your sensitivity. Still flushed all hot from the club, you instinctively arched upward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as Thranduil's fingers tapped against your swollen wet clit.

The noise prompted his gaze to lock onto yours.

Your gasp broke off as your hips nearly flew off the seat and it was only for the belt snapping tightly against your lower abdomen that your head didn't make contact with the roof.

That, and the arm Bard put around your shoulders. He held you down and gave you his biceps to let your head fall against something that wasn't the uncomfortable seatrest.

Your cheeks flushed under Thranduils scrutiny, as well as at the general scene and obscenity of everything, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.

"Do you enjoy that?" His voice was flirty, and while you want to retort that it should be very clear how much you liked his fingers fucking into you, you only managed a nod.

"Say it." He leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. His fingers stopped, clearly waiting for you to obey his order. "Use your words, you still know how, right? I haven't even started, clearly there must be something you could tell me."

"Yes," your admission was barely a whisper, but it sufficed.

Thranduil hummed, using his other hand to open your legs as wide as the tight jeans allowed it before he worked two agile fingers into your throbbing cunt.

You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, watching his relaxed demeanor while fingering you open without caring about anything else.

The heel of his hand pressed into your pelvis, giving him a reasonably steady hold in the jolting cab so that he could hit a spot inside you with precision and with every, goddamn, perfect, thrust of his fingers that made you pant out.

"Thran-" the nickname you heard Bard call him slipped out unconsciously, it's the only thing you could pull out of the depth of your mind, "Thran.. please"

"Beggin' already?" Bard chuckled, "Darlin' you have seen nothing yet and here you are, beggin' to cum in the back of a cab."

"Bard you have no idea how fucking wet she is. She's dripping down my hand, squeezing my fingers, and fuck she's so tight," Thranduil muttered and as he slipped his other hand to the one slipping and sliding against your g-spot in a maddening relentless rhythm, he rubbed them over your folds.

He collected some of your wetness on those fingers, circling your clit again before pulling them away, out of your pants, and to your horror, he held them up into the air, inspecting how his fingers glistened in the city lights.

He rubbed them together, all right in the view of the rear back mirror of the cab driver, who – thank god – kept his eyes on the road and only turned up the radio in unspoken ignorance of what was happening in his car.

God, you hoped these men would tip him adequately.

"Here," Thranduil reached his arm out past your half-opened lips and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you his fingers, but he leaned further forward.

A gasp broke out of you as you watched Bard open his mouth and greedily took both fingers right between his lips, and.. sucked.

His eyes fell shut with a contented sigh as if he were tasting his favorite drink.

You saw his tongue run thoroughly over Thranduil's patiently waiting fingers, cleaning them off every last bit of you, and god, you wanted to be those fingers so damn bad at that moment.

Then he looked at you again. There was such a deep hunger in those eyes that would look beautifully between your legs, brown hair falling messily into his sight as he ate you out.

Meanwhile, Thranduil's fingers inside you moved harder and faster, curling to brush every sensitive spot of your walls, in, out, in, another curl, and then out.

You clenched your entrance in anticipation, the feeling of two of his fingers filling you this deliciously and continuously.

You were so so close, almost there–

"Shit, you're the sweetest. I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow"

The abrupt halt of the cab barely registered for you; instead, it finally propelled you over the edge.

Thranduil's precise movement hit that spot inside you perfectly, crooking his fingers just right to brush against it. Combined with Bard's downright filthy promise, you nearly let out a scream as the powerful orgasm surged through you and you had to flex your muscles so you didn't continue riding his hand.

Thranduil, however, didn't stop, even though there was no way he didn't know you climaxed and he kept up the same pace, same fucking precision and pressure that your body convulsed around those long talented fingers and you couldn't even go anywhere, the seatbelt cut off your escape to the front and you were so far into the seat that wasn't an option as well, and it took a soft broken whimper, for words were long lost, for Thranduil to press a kiss to your neck before he sucked his fingers dry.

Your legs were still shaking as the elevator took you up to the penthouse at the top of the skyscraper the cab had stopped in front of.

Four mirrors gave you a splendid view of Bard's broad back as he crowded you against one of the walls, his thick fingers down your jeans again, as he mouthed hot kisses onto your neck.

"Gonna have to work you open," Bard grunted, his slippery fingers curling inside your cunt in a sinful squelch that sounded absurdly loud in the confined space of the elevator. "You're really too tight, don't wanna hurt you"

Thranduil watched the whole scene leaning at the railing, hands curled around the pole behind him as his hips twitched whenever you let out another whimper; your hands trying to get a hold on his husband's shoulders.

The ride was far too short, Bard's fingers not fast enough for you to reach another peak though the constant movement kept your head in such a nice empty mindless space that you didn't complain.

As soon as the doors opened Thranduil led the way, sauntering into the darkness illuminated by the first exploding fireworks. He pulled on the tie holding his hair up and flung it away let his hair flow down his back, ending just barely over his exquisite arse.

You didn't get to see much of the penthouse, all three of you were very eager to take this party finally somewhere comfortable and you only made out a giant white couch in front of a fireplace, an open kitchen with two glasses, one crystal with golden stains of whiskey, and the other high, the rim still dripping red wine, and a few bookshelves.

"You can get the full tour tomorrow," Bard said while you two kicked away your shoes, leaving them behind on the dark wooden parquet.

You stumbled over his left sneaker and halted in your tracks at the offer. While you had considered his promise of breakfast a spur-of-the-moment chit-chat, it now settled in your head that this wouldn't be like any one-nightstand you had in the past.

This observation only solidified as Bard caught your hand and raised it to press an open-mouthed kiss to your palm. "Do you need anything before we go into the bedroom? Any wishes or no-gos? Safeword?"

"Red," you immediately answered, and he nodded in acknowledgment, "and no, well– maybe hold me a bit afterward?" You blushed at the question though this should be the least embarrassing thing after all these two did to you in the span of a few hours. You continued to ramble, "And sometimes I cry, so.. you don't have to stop then. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed but you can continue your.. thing. Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own–"

Bard's eyebrows scrunched together the more you babbled, the look in his eyes becoming more confused until he shushed you with a quick kiss.

"Darlin', there is no need to explain what you want or don't want. If this is what you need then we won't question those demands," his eyes wandered over your face, making sure you were listening; which you were, heart pounding fast in your chest.

"And it's important you don't push yourself just because of us. It's not our intention to use you for a simple release. Thranduil and I don't take whoever is the first best, especially not to our home. We're looking for someone who suits us, with whom we feel completely comfortable and that should also be equally important to you."

You trusted them both, Bard as well as Thranduil.

The fact that Bard was asking you, nevertheless listening and responding to you was feeding something very primal.

They had done this before, unlike you. They had experience in this, but you were willing to learn, to submit yourself to these imposing men who surely would change something inside you forever.

The pride you felt at his admission of choosing you specifically mingled with the need to get this perfect man inside you quickly, especially now that he said such meaningful and reassuring words.

You nodded and croaked out a soft: "Alright, then please hold me after we're done" which he rewarded with another soft yet sensual kiss.

"Good girl"

Then his hands traveled south and slapped your ass so that your hips flew towards him.

"Now, let's not keep Thran waiting any longer. He tends to get a bit… impatient if left on his own for too long, as you've probably noticed."

Bratty.

You were so on the money earlier.

With that as well as the guess that the blonde was more kinky than the vanilla of his perfume.

At that moment the deep voice of his called out from down the hall.

"I swear, if you two started without me, I will fuck you until neither of you can walk for a week!"

Bard chuckled, then caught your widened eyes.

"He's joking," he said and you let out a relieved breath.

Bard pulled you along, a wink thrown over his shoulder.

"Mhm, partly; he won't fuck me tonight."

You needed a deep breather to ready yourself for what was about to happen, then you nearly tripped over your own feet as you raced after him through the dark hallway and to the only opened door.

You crashed fully into Bard, who for whatever reason, stood right in the doorframe of their bedroom.

"It seems Thranduil got tired of waiting," he chuckled and you wondered what he could mean when he turned sideways.

Your eyes instantly fell onto Thranduil, spread out on the enormous bed in the corner of the room– completely naked except for black, very tight boxers.

There was no air in your lungs, not a single breath left to take as you drank in the sight of him, fair and marble skin shining in the moonlight that fell through the big window next to the bed; the remaining glitter gave his body an unearthly glow. His hair fanned out all over the pillows, silver against grey, moving with him as he lazily lifted his head to stare at you.

There was an indescribable beauty in this man, he could lounge in the bed, his long legs opened in an invitation that you yearned to take, and his lean yet softly defined body posed as if he was waiting for someone to draw him.

"There you are," the corner of his mouth twitched into his smirk, "Strip"

His words, spoken in a gentle tone, boomed loud in your ears.

Your hands flew to your jeans in no second, though they were stopped by Bard, who covered them with his larger, rougher ones.

"No, Darlin', let me"

He stood behind you, taking over the job of undressing you. He did it much slower than you would have, not ripping everything apart in a hurry to obey the command of the blonde whose eyes were heavy on your body, taking in every bit of skin that got revealed.

Bard unbuttoned your jeans first, then his large and warm hands rubbed over your arms.

"Are you cold, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "No, not cold. I– I feel like I'm burning up"

It was the truth, and nothing but the full, honest truth; you felt as hot as you did in the club, though the reason wasn't the hundreds of people and the alcohol but rather the sight of Thranduil, whose hands trailed over his own body and teasingly played with the waistband of his underwear.

Bard followed your fixated gaze to his coyly smiling husband.

"Should we turn down the heating? We would not want you melting away," Thranduil blinked his long lashes at you in faux-concern. He must've known the goosebumps covering your skin were his doing.

You would've rolled your eyes if you were able to look somewhere else than Thranduil. The man had to be magical, how else could you explain the spell he put you under if not for some supernatural powers?

"Stop the teasing, Thran," Bard cut in, slipping his hands under your shirt and kissing your shoulder. You melted into his touch, comforted that he took care of you like this when he continued, "This poor sweet thing hasn't even all her clothes off. It would be a shame to make her blush like this and not see it"

"Oh, and who's fault is that? Certainly not mine, I have been waiting so long I was close to wrapping things up myself"

Bard pulled your shirt over your head, covering your sight long enough for a wave of braveness to surge through you. "I sure hope you wrap it up," you said and heard both of them snicker.

"Do not worry," Thranduil began.

"There is enough protection for weeks," Bard finished and the band of your bra snapped against your skin.

Despite the warmness of the room your nipples puckered as soon as the lace fell away, growing hard under the avid eyes, cerulean and green, so different yet similar in the way both are dominated by the blackness of their pupils.

Bard's hands came up to your front and he cupped your breasts first tenderly, mapping out how perfectly they fit into his large palm, then rougher as his fingers found the hard buts of your nipples and rubbed them between them until every pinch had your legs trembling and you whimpering.

You cried out, body bucking on its own.

"Oh how nice," Thranduil's comment was full of sarcasm, followed by a click of his tongue against teeth, "Why, let me lay here and play all on your own, why not? After all, I am nothing but pure decoration"

Bard huffed a puff of hot air onto you, "Grow a pair of tits like this and maybe I will get to you first"

Thranduil's dark eyebrows raised to his hairline, passing an unspoken threat that had Bard scoff before he grabbed the waistband of your jeans. He pulled them down slowly, getting on his knees as he did and you were acutely aware of how wet your panties were when you feel his lips kiss your ass.

"This must be uncomfortable," he murmured, holding one leg to help you step out of the jeans. He kneaded your thigh, fingertips against muscles and flesh, before moving on to do the same on your other leg.

He used the moment where you lifted the second leg, to dive his hand to your cunt again, dragging his knuckles over the dark-colored patch, and he laughed as you buckled into the touch. "Oh, the fun we'll have"

Finally, undressed to your panties that cling to your crotch like a second skin, you were free to walk toward the bed. You would've lied if you said you didn't swing your hips a little bit, relishing the raspy groan this evoked from Bard.

Feeling like you should await further commands you stopped (un)patiently when your knees hit the mattress.

Thranduil's lips curved into a devilish smirk at this sign of submission.

He let his legs fall open wider, waving in an elegant gesture into the space in between. "Come here, sweetheart"

The bed was raised and you rose to your tiptoes and, making sure your eyes were trained on Thranduil, you crawled over the mattress, knees digging into the silk duvet he had promised you.

He reached out as soon as he could, one hand curving around your neck to pull and you landed directly on him, legs spread on either side of his thighs, hands somehow, despite their nervous trembling, found their place against his collarbones, standing out from his broad chest rather delicate.

Not that you hadn't suspected and expected him to be big, but, fuck, he was long and hard, a pulsing pressure against your stomach.

"Be a good girl and remove this unnecessary fabric, will you?" Thranduil whispered and you scrambled to lose your panties, throwing them off into the distance only to turn again and find him smirking. "I meant my boxers, but it fills me with joy seeing you this eager"

Lowering your head to hide your laughter, you grabbed his boxers. He lifted his hips just barely for you to pull on the black boxers, rolling them over his tight ass, and after giving you a loving pat on the head, he crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing into the pillows.

His cock sprung free from the containment of the tight boxers, twitching as it hit his abdomen and you felt your throat dry out.

Of course, he was smooth everywhere; not one bit of hair covering the flushed beauty of him.

You sat up, hands pushed into his flexing thighs, to take him all in. No one should look this perfect, this utterly ridiculously beautiful, right? There should be something on him, a scar, a mole, anything to prove he wasn't straight-up carved out of marble, but you found nothing.

You glared at him as you sat down a bit lower, ass in the air, and spit into your hand before you wrapped it around his cock. The sight of his size had your mouth water, and seeing how your fingers couldn't meet had your cunt clench around nothing.

No way any of their preparation had been enough for this intimidating masterpiece of Mother Nature's creation.

"Tell me, how is it fair that you are rich and have a dick like that?" you asked and just as Thranduil opened his pretty lips for probably another witty answer, you interrupted him by letting his cock slide over your tongue deep into your throat until you gagged around him.

Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten.

Instead, Thranduil groaned a low: "Fuck" and threw his head back.

You wanted to see him come undone, to unravel him until he lost this bratty attitude and reduce him to that wild behavior he had shown in the club.

You had the feeling that that's only possible if he thought he had the upper hand.

You bobbed your head, taking him a bit past what you could manage without gagging before lifting your head again.

"Use me," you said and his eyes flew open.

"What?"

Cocking your head, you shot him a confused look, while spreading his precum over the head of his cock with your thumb. "I said," – you spit again, mixing it and coating his dick further – "Fuck - my - mouth"

Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his slit, and you swore you could see his eyes darken further; black taking over blue – desire fought whatever held him back to fucking give into whatever you offered.

Behind you, Bard swore nearly breathlessly: "Fuck me" though you stayed focused on Thranduil.

"Are you sure?" his voice was raw, his facade of composure cracking ever so slightly.

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't"

His hand was behind your head in seconds, drawing you down his cock again and you opened your mouth wide to not hurt him. He pushed you down until you choked on him and although your eyes watered, you couldn't take them away from the sight of his mouth and the low throaty groans that passed the opened lips.

The lack of air cut off your moan, the tip of his cock bullying the back of your throat just barely short of painful. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you inhaled deeply.

"Good girl," Thranduil's hips bucked, pulling back until he was only half-lodged in your throat, "Just like that, fuck"

He gave an experimental thrust, keeping his sharp eyes on you, his hand in your neck, ready to stop if he saw any discomfort, but all you showed him was how you choked on spit and salty precum.

"Oh, you sweet girl. Behaving so well," his voice was ruined, and he thrusted again, punching away the little breath left in the tiniest space that wasn't occupied by his thick cock.

This was by far the first time you have ever given a blowjob, but it was a first to let someone use you like this. Controlling when you could suck or when you just had to take what he gave you.

And oh– how much you loved it.

So much that you wanted to rub your thighs together only to be stopped by rough hands grabbing them.

A confused sound left you, no more than a choked "Huh?" vibrating around Thranduils cock continuing to fuck into you, just like you had asked him, hindering you from turning to see what Bard was up to.

He didn't leave you wondering for long, just as Thranduil's thrusts took on a sharper edge, hitting the back of your throat every time, filling your mouth like no man ever had, Bard's flattened tongue licked through your exposed cunt and the moan you let out sounded so pornographic you surprised yourself.

"Do it again," Thranduil took in the sight of your wet lips, the drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth, his cock disappearing so deep inside you that felt him in your lungs, "Fuck, Bard, do that again now!–"

He talked for you, praising Bard as he licked your pussy again, this time using his fingers to pry you open further and there was the delicious scratch of his beard stubbles, burning on your skin.

You cried out, tried to do, stopped by Thranduils cock stuffing your mouth again and again, his hands curled around your neck as if he wanted to feel the imprint of himself pushing through.

"Prettiest woman out there," Thranduil groaned. His thump reached over to stuff some of the spit back into your mouth, opening your jaw up impossibly wide.

Bard's tongue was as precise as their fingers have been, covering your folds, fucking into your hole and sucking on your clit with expertise that no man should be allowed to have. Two of his wet fingers slid into you while his tongue mercilessly attacked your clit, the other hand buried itself in the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and pulling, opening you up further for his face.

"C'mon," his voice was muffled by your thighs, drowning you in his accent while he drowned his tongue inside your opening, circling the rim in maddening figures, "Give me one more, gorgeous."

Electricity flowed through your body, hot tingles of nothing but fire spreading into your fingertips wrapped around the inches of Thranduil's cock that didn't fit into your mouth, to your nipples that brushed against his muscular thighs.

"Fuck Bard, please–"

Not sure what you were begging for, for his tongue to stop the attack on your clit, for his fingers constantly finding that spot inside your spongy walls that had you wailing and rolling your hips into his face, or for him to get on with it and get you over that build-up.

Bard kept going, somehow finding a rhythm that matched the one his husband hammered down your throat and you were helplessly stuck trying to hold on.

Until you lost the fight to keep yourself upright. Your hands slipped on Thranduil's thighs, your body crashed down and if it wouldn't have been for his quick reaction of pulling himself out of you, you would for sure have impaled your head on his still hard and throbbing cock.

Instead, it just wetly slapped your face as you collapsed into his lap.

Bard's rough hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he maneuvered your legs around to give his head more space.

The other pair of hands, soft, delicate, Thranduil's, cupped your face, lifting it gently yet demanding, giving him the perfect view of your cute face, all scrunched up as you gasped and mewled, and your backside, ass arched into the air under Bard's commanding hands.

"Such a beautiful thing," Thranduil mused.

His fingers danced over your cheeks until he used another whine, another desperate moan when Bard alternated between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue, to slip his thumb into your mouth.

As soon as he did, you closed your lips around him. Staring up at him, begging him silently for a release only Bard could give you, you started sucking on his finger as you would have done on his cock if not for the stars dancing in your field of vision.

Thranduil tutted, "So needy as well. Bard, if you were so kind as to stop, I can not stand seeing her this distraught. I think you are working her up far too much"

"Nooo! Please, please, I'm alright, I'm– please, so close," The desperate scream that came out of your mouth at his words was probably loud enough to alert the neighbors, followed by a cry and sob as Bard kissed your clit one last time.

"Of course, babe" The words were muffled, spoken directly into your dripping cunt.

Which he then shuffled away from, beard stubble scratching you, his fingers letting loose on your thighs.

"No, no please, please," you were already babbling, reaching behind you in a sad effort to force him back between your legs, "Please, I'll be good, please!"

"You sweet thing," Thranduils arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up into a kiss, "I think–" his voice dropped deeper and you heard the rustle of plastic, felt Bard's hand rolling the condom over Thranduil's cock pressing into your stomach, "–you have behaved so well, you deserve a reward"

You nodded fast, legs spread wide apart sitting on his thighs and your cunt stretched open.

Staring into his eyes, you saw how much his pupils were dilated, how he only watched you, only saw you.

You could see and feel his chest lift as his cock slid through your folds, finding you drenched from all their playing around.

"Eyes stay on me"

Your pussy was wet enough for the tip of his cock to slip right into you and right away you wanted to shut your eyes at the sensation of him spearing you open.

"Please–," you gasped, and tried to move your hips to get more of him into you than just those few inches, but he didn't budge, didn't loosen his grip on your waist, "Please, Thranduil. Green, my color is green, fuck me, I can take it!"

"Yes, and if not," his voice was back to the self-controlled powerful tone, "I'll make you take it, sweetheart."

Thranduil let go of you the second he snapped his hips upwards and suddenly, you were split open.

You keened as his cock sunk into you in one fast, swift, hard movement. There was a burn, in your thighs as you flexed them, in your throat as you cried out, in your pussy at the intrusion of his long cock.

When Thranduil bottomed out, his head shoved against your cervix, the whole length forcing you to stretch, to make room, and fuck you wanted your pussy to be carved into the shape of that perfect cock.

It should've been uncomfortable, but you only groaned as you appreciated the second he gave you to relax while making room where they shouldn't be some.

"Fuck–" he moaned, "you are tight, so fucking tight"

Bard moved next to you, and you could only get one short look at his naked body, the brown hair coating his muscular chest, the happy trail leading down to his thick cock, before Thranduil began to fuck you.

His strokes were fast, hips snapping into you and nearly throwing you off his lap at the speed and brute force and you fell into his chest, clinging to his arms.

This, him rutting into you like your pussy could quench a year-long thirst at a punishing pace, this was surely the epitome of getting fucked. How he knew how to fuck you just right, hitting your g-spot with every single thrust was a riddle you couldn't and wouldn't want to solve; not with his cock penetrating you hard enough you swore you felt him in your throat as you called for him through moans.

You had no chance of even trying to meet his thrusts, not while he pounded into you like a madman.

"F-Fuck, good fucking girl– so tight," Thranduil groaned out his gritted teeth, his face turning a beautiful shade of rosé, "Even tighter than you, Bard–"

Bard, you totally forgot he was even there, laughed and moved on the bed again, slipping back behind you, "Yeah? Tell me more"

And you wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop talking in words that only added to the overstimulation, that spun around your head without meaning because how could anything have ever any meaning more important that Thranduil's cock fucking you a little further, a little deeper.

"So tight, s-so hot, clamping down on me like this sweet, fuck, pussy doesn't want me to leave"

"Mhm, I can see that," Bard hummed and his hands caressed your shaking thighs, before leaving his mark on your ass with a soft slap that had you wailing into Thranduil's shoulder.

It was too much and not enough at the same time.

You were going to lose your mind like this, fucked to near-unconsciousness.

"More, I–" your speech was slurred, brain scrambled into loose words hanging onto thin threads.

You tried to hold on to Thranduil but it was impossible with your sweat and the glitter covering him.

Luckily for you, Bard found the time to stop ever kindly toying with the pearl of your clit to lean forward.

"Put them inside his hair, Darlin'. He doesn't mind" There was a lopsided smirk on his face that you could barely see out of the corners of your eyes.

You still hadn't stopped looking at Thranduil.

The attempt to tentatively guide your hands to his head was prevailed by another particular hard thrust, and your fingers slid through blonde locks, grabbing onto them as you fell back down on Thranduil's cock.

You tugged on them much harsher than intended.

Thranduil's eyes blew wide.

You wanted to apologize when his lips quivered and his hips snapped into yours even faster.

Quickly you reached for him again, nails scraping his scalp as you readjusted, gripping more, much tighter.

"That's it, Darlin'.. that's my girl," Bard leaned back, and not shortly after his fingers were back on your clit, tapping intact of Thranduil's thrusts.

It was only a matter of seconds until the pleasure became too much.

Thranduil's hips fell into a stutter as your walls clenched around him; even for someone with his stamina the heat of you surrounding him, and your sweet moans drove him into a raging need to imprint the shape of his cock inside you.

"F-fuck.. Thran–" you whimpered, hands fisting his hair, trying to get a literal grip as reality started to shift around you.

Outside, close to the windows, there was a whistle as the first of many fireworks greet the New Year and just as Thranduil pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking and tensing up as you screamed his name, the darkness of the sky exploded into an arrangement of thousands of colors.

The white fuzziness that enveloped your vision transformed into creeping darkness at the edges.

Your eyelids closed shut as you descended into blissful oblivion.

When you came back to yourself, it was to the murmur of deep voices mixed into the loud bangs of fireworks.

For a moment you had no idea where you were, enveloped in a haziness inside your mind, but the gentle nudge of something against your lips forced you to open your eyes.

There were two faces very close to yours, was the first realization.

Then, following up, you let out a giggle.

"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine," you greedily took a sip from the water bottle that the very flushed blonde held in his hands.

"You said it was possible you would cry, not bloody pass out on Thran's dick!" Bard wiped the drops you couldn't swallow away from the corner of your mouth with one hand and continued to rub your thighs with his others.

You hadn't noticed they were still shaking.

"Yeah, that never happened before," you shot a smirk up to Thranduil, "Never had a guy fuck me like this as well"

He snorted into the bottle of water, "Believe me, I never had someone lose their consciousness on me before as well. I came shortly after you and when I opened my eyes to find you completely out of it I nearly passed out on the spot as well"

"Would have been quite a shock for you," you said and let your head fall to the side to look at Bard, "both of us orgasm into fainting"

"Not funny, Darlin'," Bard warned, though he laughed as you stuck his tongue out at him.

Stretching your hands over your head and raking them into the air until your bones cracked, you sighed happily. Blissfulness was all you felt after cumming harder than you ever had.

For the first time, you could really enjoy the sight of both men in the nude, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate how fit Bard was while Thranduil had fucked you and you reached out to run your hands over his chest. Twirling some of the hair on there, traveling lower to scratch nails down his happy trail like a route description straight to his still-hard cock.

Stopping shortly before his pubic hair, you glanced up at him, a coy smile playing your lips. "You haven't cum yet." It was much a purr as it was an invitation, your legs falling open right when Bard's hand came to a still on your thighs.

He shook his head, chestnut hair swaying with the movement. "No, Darlin', no! You just passed out. I won't force myself on you. Thran can suck me off or I'll take care of it myself if you want to rest"

Your heart contracted in adoration for this man, and an embarrassing amount of slick gushed out of you.

"Bard," you said, voice wavering as you suppressed a whimper. Somehow this turned you on even more, "Bard, there is enough time to be this caring later but please–" Once again you were begging, and the man wasn't even inside of you yet, "please fuck me"

On the other side of you, Thranduil chuckled, "Insatiable, I knew it. Bard is right though, if you are not well, then he can fuck me"

Slowly but surely you were losing your patience.

As sweet as their concern was, the fact that these two gods were both sitting naked in front of you, one sweaty because he just knocked you out, and the other hard as steel and flushed, only aroused that much more.

Without saying anything else, you maneuvered yourself in the bed until you could rest your head on Thranduil's stretched legs and angled your legs in an invitation.

"Come on you stud. It's the new year after all"

The brunette scanned you with a piercing gaze, you could see him struggling with himself, but the twitch of his cock told you what he'd decided before he nodded.

"Thran, condom please"

You giggled again, excitement and the need to be catapulted to new heights spreading warmly in your stomach.

As Bard put the condom on, you wiggled around, your hand on the move to beat time, but Thranduil reached over you.

He caught your wrist before you reached your center, grasping it with his much larger hand and pulling your arm back with him enough that it forced your shoulders up, a "Tze, tze, tze" admonishing the behavior.

"Impatient brat, make up your mind!" he hissed and tugged some more until you whined, "Feel free to use those pathetic little fingers, knowing they will never fill you the way Bard could" Now that Thranduil knew you were on the same page, his voice dropped into that rebuking tone that left you whining and pouting.

He was so good, so fucking mean in the right amount you never knew you needed a man to act in bed.

"I just wanted–"

"I know baby," he cooed, and patted your cheek, "you just need your cunt to be filled, right? Just need to be stuffed full. Bard will do that for you, no need to worry your pretty head about it"

"That's right, Darlin'," Bard shuffled in between your legs, hooking them both over his thighs as he leaned over you. His cock landed on your abdomen, pressing against your pulsating clit, "Tell me what you want," he grabed himself, guiding it slowly toward where you leaked for him, completely drenched from the orgasms they had already given to you.

"I can go slow, or I can go fast"

You contemplated for a moment and lift the free hand to stroke over his handsome face. His beard tickled the inside of your palm, the chestnut waves silky as the sheets.

"Slow," you whispered, "I want you slow first"

"Alright," he gently nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Although you were still sensitive, still pulsing and throbbing due to Thranduil (who caressed your face and your neck, having let to of your hand to arrange the pillows in his back for more comfort), you relished the stretch and sting of Bard as he guided his cock into you.

He was thicker than Thranduil, not by much but that inch made itself known, splitting you open heavenly so. You gasped into the kiss, giving up the fight of tongues to swallow back the drool that collected the further Bard pushed inside you.

It's just a little bit, one inch at a time, but you cried out all the same.

The thrum of excitement pulses, leaves you trembling and begging in incoherent moans and whimpers.

You could feel him throbbing inside you.

"Good girl," Thranduil's praise washed over you, chilled fingers tweaking one of your nipples as a reward for the exhausted smile you gifted him at that, "Has anyone ever told you that you make just the sweetest sounds? Give me one more?"

He twisted your other nipple; you moaned again.

"Fuck, Thran, you were so right," Bard grunted, his fingernails digging into where he held you by the waist, leaving crescent moon-shaped imprints that you hoped wouldn't fade for a while, "She's fuckin' tight; how are you still this tight?"

"For you," you fisted your hands into his hair again, hoping he enjoyed it just as much as his husband, "J-just for you, everything, ngh– for you"

With one last push, he sheated himself in you completely, filling you up just like Thranduil told you he would, stretching your walls thin.

You felt him everywhere, in every part of your body.

Every nerve, every tendon, every cell burns and was lit aflame, sizzling hot fire licking your skin and bursting when he dragged himself out, leaving barely the tip and pushed back in.

His cock nestled deep inside you, Bard stilled.

There was a silent vigilance in his mesmerizing green eyes. "Talk to me beautiful, is this alright?"

You nodded and pulled him down on his hair into another kiss. "Yes, god, yes"

That's all he needed to hear and while licking over your lips, entangling your tongue with his playfully, he set a slow rhythm. Nevertheless the tempo, he brushed that spot inside you with every stroke.

Pins and needles all over your skin, goosebumps wherever Thranduil's fingers wandered.

There were more fireworks, lightening up the bedroom filled with gasps and grunts, whispers of encouragement and begging. The sound of Bard's hips snapping into yours, the wet squelch of his cock driving itself inside of your pussy again and again.

"There we go," he murmured and positioned his arms on either side of you, using the balance it gives him to roll his hips instead of just thrusting. Mumbling between kisses, he talked against your lips: "Aren't you just the sweetest? Darlin', I couln' believe my eyes when I saw you in that club, shining far brighter than anyone else"

He swallowed your gasps with kisses, nipping at your lip then moved to your earlobe, "You are so perfect, letting us fuck you like this"

In one swift movement, he dragged Thranduil towards him, long blonde hair curling at the edges hanging into your vision in a starlight waterfall. Their kiss left you breathless and you would have felt left out if Thranduil didn't lean down further to you, kissing your lips upside down.

This time it was his fingers that found your slick, poor and abused clit. A couple of firm circles had your hips bucking up to meet Thranduil's fingers, crying out for both men in a mix of their names.

You whimpered as the next orgasm build up fucking fast, your breath catching in your throat.

"Bard," your hips moved on their own, trying to get him to fuck you faster, "Please– more, I need m-more,"

"Darlin'," Bards forehead pressed against yours, his grunts strained as if he was holding back himself but kept the same and steady pace you asked him for, "You sure?"

Grabbing his hair again, you weaved your fingers through it, tousling it haphazardly, achieving nothing but adding to its wild appearance.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes were fixed on you, it felt electric and charged, akin to lightning, causing you to momentarily forget to breathe.

"Yes"

He obeyed instantly, with the next thrust you screamed at the pure force of it. Bard wa spiraling the same way you were, becoming erratic as his teeth grazed over your collarbone, biting every mark they have left on you.

Raising your legs to keep him close, your ankles locked behind his back, heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. The new angle allowed him to drive impossibly deep, reaching pleasure points inside you you didn't knew existed before him.

The pleasure was blinding, high electricity running through your veins and into every part of your body and soul. This was nothing you have ever experienced before, not with anyone and they made sure it would never feel like this with anyone ever.

Bard, feeling how your walls clenched around him, fluttering and pulsating, begging him to stay inside, sucked on your nipple, hard.

"I need you to come, fuck. Let me feel this pussy come, I'm right there with you," he rasped, voice like gravel, leaving you to scream for him, head knocking into Thranduil's legs, who dared to add to the crescendo of your pleasure and pressed down on your clit.

You found yourself gripping the bed covers, fingers twisting, in an attempt to anchor yourself, sobbing and shaking.

Instead, the coil inside you snapped.

Soaking Bard's cock choking and sobbing, tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes as every limp of you tensed up, he pushed you over the edge, his moans in your ear the most erotic thing.

You felt Bard following you, felt him spilling inside the condom, his cock twitching inside of you as he reached his peak moaning and burying himself to the deepest point, hips flushed close against yours, still rolling and shoving into you.

Moments of silence and heavy breathing followed. Of broken sobs, hushed murmurs of praise, even more affirmations.

Thranduil scootched closer to you, laying down next to you while Bard's weight on top of you was just what you needed. The heaviness of his much larger frame and Thranduil's long arms wrapped around you held back the cold that threatened to take a hold of you as the shivers of pleasure subsided.

"Gods," Bard exhaled, chest moving, pressing more into you. "That was something"

"Happy New Year" Thranduil rumbled.

Minutes passed, more fireworks exploded, celebrations of the New Year while you weren't even sure you even knew what time was anymore.

Bard tried to move, though your legs must have cramped for they felt disconnected to your body.

"Darlin'," he dropped another kiss to your neck, laughing low as your head lolled to the side.

"Mhm-mhm," you groaned, eyes still shut close, "Stay"

His lips moved to your ear, continuing to bathe you in soft kisses that leave you floating in that blissful headspace. "I know, I know–"

Thranduil's hands cupped your face, caressing your glowing cheeks and wiped away the loose tears that rolled over them. "Aftercare first, then cuddling," he whispered and cradled your head, massaging the spot in your neck that started to ache after Bard had folded you in half.

Despite knowing he was right, that you needed to use the bathroom, the warmth their bodies provided held you back.

You whined, arching your back into Bard's chest as he pried your legs away and slowly pulled himself out of you, stopping when your hips twitched at the overstimulation and only continued after a soothing kiss.

As soon as he left to stand up, tying up the used condom and going into the ensuite bathroom, Thranduil's steady hands on your back helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, where he wrapped the covers around your shoulders and gently tapped your nose, before scratching his nails over your head.

"You did very well, sweetheart," One finger tipped your chin up. "Thank you, you are a wonderful partner."

Thranduil, crouched to your level in front of you, still naked as the day he was born, simply picked you up. Legs folded over one arm, your head fell against his glittery chest that was covered in red streaks of where your nails had scratched him.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

The afterglow of the very much fantastic sex lulled all three of you in a comfort that blurred the barriers of you being a stranger in their home, laughter and giggles as the shower washed away sweat and glitter.

While there was a liveness to massaging soap into hair, hands rubbing away soreness and splashing water around until the mirror was all but fogged up and steam filled the entire bathroom, the exhaustion of the night caught up close after Thranduil dressed you in one of Bard's large sweaters.

Smelling like wood shavings, pine and toothpaste, hair still damp and eyes dropping close even though you tried to stay awake, Thranduil carried you to the bed.

The sheets were changed, encasing you in laundry detergent and brushing against your naked legs as you let yourself be placed on the pillows.

Outside, the world still celebrated and you did as well, in your own way.

There was a shuffle, a murmur of voices, then the bed dipped on either side as Bard climbed to your right side and Thranduil to your left, leaving not much room between all of you, legs entangling with each other, more giggling until everyone lied down comfortably.

Face tugged under Bard's chin, one arm of his reaching over your head so that Thranduil could nestle his face into it and the blonde wrapped around your back, you were surrounded by something you couldn't put into words.

"Maybe– maybe you can stay for breakfast and lunch," Bard's low words were murmured with a deep sigh, his other hand sliding down under his sweater, resting just below where your heart sung contenly.

"And dinner," Thranduil added and you heard him kiss Bard's hand.

"No talky-talky," you snuggled your face deeper into Bard, nose bumping into his neck, "But I would like that, very much"

Just as you fell asleep, held tightly by them both, you could hear them exchange quiet I love you's and you smiled, feeling their love seep deep into your bones.

#thranduil x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction #bard the bowman #bard hobbit #bard x reader #bard x thranduil #thranduil smut #thranduil oropherion #bard smut #barduil #barduil smut #lord of the rings smut #lotr smut #hobbit smut #thranduil x bard #thranduil

[y-rhywbeth2]

Still thinking on the overly homogenous appearance of the Underdark races in BG3 (the drow palette being incorrectly applied to everyone, it bugs meee), so here's an overview of the appearances of all four five Underdark counterparts:

Deep Gnome: Skin in rock and earth hues; brown, grey, brownish-grey. AMAB gnomes are completely bald, and AFAB grow dark grey hair, sometimes dark enough to look black. Their eyes are dark grey and black. They're about 3' - 3'6" tall. On average they are very scrawny, with a wiry build that seems to be all sinew and bones - however they do have very high muscle strength and are heavier than they look.

Drow: Dark, desaturated skin (I have read that prolonged sun damage may turn it deep blue and give it a velvet-y look, but I can't find that damn note to quote it). Pale hair; white, silver, blonde, "pale copper". 5'5" is to a dark elf as 6'+ is to us; Height range is 4'7" - 5'5", average male is shorter than average female. Red is the dominant eye colour and has nothing to do with your relationship with Lolth, it's a sign of Ilythiiri heritage, which most drow have. Other eye colours include gray, amber, brown, black, rose-pink and lavender.

Duergar: They're called "grey dwarves" because they're grey. Skin? Grey. Eyes? Grey (sometimes dark enough to look black). Hair? Grey. Although they don't have that much hair to speak of; all duergar are bald, and unlike their surface cousins, AFAB duergar cannot grow beards. Duergar are just less hirsute in general, and personally, I blame the mind flayers. Duergar are less stocky than surface dwarves - they're no less broad, but their general build is "lean and wiry". Height ranges from 3'9" - 4'5" and they weigh the same as the average human adult.

Orog: Underdark orcs*. While technically not appearing in-game, a half-orc Tav or Durge can technically be half-orog, so I'm including them. Also because I like them. Orogs have large ears and very big, eerily pale eyes. Their hair is usually black and their skin is "grayish". They stand from about 5'4" - 7'6", and some orogs have even exceeded eight foot in height.

*You will also see the name "orog" applied to ogre-orc hybrids. There's two types of orogs.

EDIT: Oh, I forgot the humans:

Deep Imaskari: Look like regular humans, but with white skin that looks like marble - literally, it looks like they're carved from marble, texture and all. They stand from about 5'3" - 6' tall. They don't appear in-game either, but what's stopping you from playing one just without the extra stuff they get

The only people who haven't branched off and made an Underdark variant are the halflings, basically.

#The thing with the Underdark is that everybody looks malnourished #The drow have shrunk since their arrival and the duergar and svirfneblin look like famine victims #I have shit to do today. but the nerd rage - it grips me #And orc lore is so thin on the ground. #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

[thereaperwatchesme]

You were sent a protector to guide you through a foretold disaster when you were young. Now, you’re an adult, no disaster has appeared and you’re ready to live your life without the careful eyes of your “shadow”. However, his presence is most welcome as you need him more than ever.

The disaster has come your way.

Getting ready to hide away from the catastrophe, you’re suddenly found by a ragtag group of Onlookers, who attempt to protect others from your…protector. You’ve come to find out that you’re meant to be sacrificed to save the world from the tragedy yet to come.

Faced with this truth, you join forces with the formidable team and learn more about your role on Earth and the role of your protector. But you can’t help but wonder if you were able to save the world in another way that doesn’t involve your demise. Maybe with the help of your protector…

The Grim Reaper.

| Customize your own character: choose your gender, pronouns, sexuality, and appearance.

| Meet and possibly romance five RO’s, two of which are gender-selectable.

| Discover who you are, or what you were meant to be.

| Shake things up and drive the story. Be determined and a leader, or go with the flow and stay passive.

| Would you sacrifice yourself like the Prophecy foretold, or be in charge of your new destiny and do things your way?

MARSHALL TAYLOR (AKA MARS)

male; he/him

Mars is the leader of a group of friends named the “Onlookers.” He’s able to see the Grim Reaper and tries to prevent any deaths occurring by the Reaper’s hand. Impassive and harsh, he tries to keep you safe by protecting you at all times. Who knew that his body-guarding skills would blossom into a new love?

(Mars has tan skin, dark brown hair that's faded at the sides, gray eyes, and slight stubble on his face)

SABLE CLARK

male; he/him

Sable is the brains of the Onlookers; he designs the tech and gear for the group when it’s time to help people and capture lost souls taken by the Reaper. Usually shy and reserved, he opens up to you more than his friends. Will you two stick together?

(Sable has bright, red hair, green eyes, and wears thick-rimmed glasses. He’s lanky and pale with a small amount of freckles)

MARIANA TAYLOR

female; she/her

Mariana is the twin sister of Mars, but they have two different attitudes. She’s more friendly, but she continues to hold you at arm's length. The mastermind of the group, she cleverly creates the methods to achieve their goals. But what will she plan if her goal is now you?

(Mariana has dark brown, curly hair and tan skin. She has gray eyes and a bright smile)

PARKER CHO

gender-selectable (male, female, non-binary)

Parker is the jokester of the group, but mostly a gifted fighter. They are a warrior of sorts; fighting monsters or souls that they come across just to protect you all. They flirt with you constantly, but they have no means to start a relationship. But will they feel obligated when you’re in danger and it’s their last chance?

(Parker is of Korean descent, and they have pale skin and dark brown eyes. They’re very well muscled, and has black hair that’s curled on top of their head)

J (Justine, Justin, Justice)

gender-selectable (female, male, nonbinary)

J was your childhood friend until you moved across the country. But now you’re back, and you two are catching up. But you didn’t know that you would be pulling them into the craziness that’s happening in your life. But you mean everything to them, so they’ll do whatever to help.

(J has blonde hair and a average build with glistening, blue eyes)

DEMO

Asks are always welcome, and if you want to check out my main IF, the @ is below:

@everythingisblue-if

Patreon: ⬇️

#interactive fiction #if #blog #the reaper watches me #mars #sable #Parker #mariana #j #supernatural #modern #reaper #grim reaper

[yelenasdiary]

Pretty Thing

Pairing: MobBoss! Yelena Belova x Stripper!Reader 

Summary: Yelena knew what she wanted, she knew what she craved but what she didn’t know was how addicted she would get and she’d remove anybody standing in her way.

Adult Content | 2.8K | Dark Themes | Language Warning | Slight Degradation | Unwanted Attention | Semi-public | Fingering | Top!Yelena | Exhibitionism | Daddy Kink | 18+ONLY! Minors DNI!! |

Notes: She/Her pronouns are used. 

AC: This is just a re-upload. Some of you might remember this as a miniseries but now it's just a one-shot x.

You worked 4 nights a week at the Whisper night club as a dancer. It wasn't ideal at first but after a while you found yourself enjoying it and found a confidence in showing off your body. The club was popular, one of the more luxurious clubs in town, the only clients that came here where ones rich enough to buy the club twice over and still have enough money to play with, sometimes there was the occasional walk ins that didn't exactly belong at this particular club, and they never stay too long. 

The money you earned was halved and put aside for med school and to keep you from going back to your parents' house. That's a story for a different day. Working 4 nights a week made you enough money to cover rent, bills, groceries and whatever was left would go straight into your savings jar. Your earnings were enough so you were comfortable but not too comfortable, the club charged hire fees than most clubs and was more strict on clients who didn't follow the rules. 

Mr Barnes, the club owner always had a way of making sure you and the other ladies felt safe and protected and he never took shit from anybody. There's always been stories of him 'taking care of business' whenever somebody got too handsy with one of his girls and you believed this to be true, you all did. 

Tonight, was pretty slow for a Thursday, the club had its regulars and they usually only spent their time watching the dances on stage and throwing $20s here and there while they sipped on their whiskeys. The newbies were always so fun to tease, they'd tip the big bucks at first just to show you they had the money, always tipping double for a little girl on girl action on stage but nothing was more entertaining than the outsiders. These were the ones who didn't exactly belong in this club, the ones who won big on the slot machines and thought a girl at Whispers was a treat worth spending their winnings on. The goal was to milk them dry of their big win and watch carefully at the realization that they then couldn't afford another private dance. 

Tonight, there were a small group of outsiders, three of them, 2 females and a male sat front row of the main stage watching as Courtney did her show, but the 4th outsiders' eyes were locked on you. "Perfect" you said to yourself with a smirk before walking over to her. She had dirty blonde hair and green eyes that at first you thought where a light brown, her eyes watched your body walk towards her with a cigar in one hand. 

"I've never seen you around here before honey, are you new in town?" You ask with a welcoming smile. The woman puffed on her cigar as her eyes traveled up your body taking in the sight of your exposed skin, "Not exactly" she replied with a thick accent. Her eyes burned into yours, she was good at keeping strong eye contact. Her tongue ran slowly over her bottom lip as she gently patted her lap at you. You were used to this type of demanding behaviour from other clients and did as gestured.

"Well, what brings you to the club?" You asked as her free hand gently draped over your left hip. Her light touch wasn't like the men, she was gently but you saw in her eyes that she was hungry for something more. "A friend's birthday" her eyes looked over to the three by the stage before you felt them traveling up your legs and back to your eyes, "What's a pretty thing like you working here for?" She asked, placing her cigar in the ashtray, and grabbing her drink. "To please you baby" you replied while playing with the loose strains of hair on the back of her neck. 

It slightly disappointed you that she was no different to any of the men and other women that came to the club, although she seemed different, you'd already heard that question so many times before that it almost felt odd when you weren't asked. 

"Come on, don't be like that" she sipped her drink as her eyes looked around the room, "You're too cute to be dancing in a place like this" 

"Well, you're just too sweet" you smiled softly, feeding her ego. 

"Boss, watch my drink! I'm getting a dance!" The male friend of hers called from the stage as he followed behind one of your friends. "Sorry about him, he's a tool" the woman's eyes found your eyes, her tongue licking over the lips once more. 

"Would you like a dance baby?" You asked looking into her eyes, to your surprise she shook her head, "No sugar, this is just fine" she said, her hand moving to the small of your back. "Well, honey, that's fine with me but my boss is expecting me to do my job" your fingers twirled the hairs on the back of her neck gently, "Don't worry about your boss, if he has a problem, I can handle myself" she almost chuckled. 

Barnes never laid a hand on a woman, he never needed to, he had Agatha to do that for him if needed. She basically ran the floor and watched everybody like a hawk, you knew she wouldn't like you sitting for too long without at least making a 50 out of it. 

"It's not my boss I'd be worried about"

The woman chuckled this time as she picked up her cigar and took a puff. "I wouldn't worry about me pretty girl" her accent becomes clearer to you, Russian. 

"Oi, are you done with her yet? I want a dance!" A drunken man interrupted before you could say anything in reply. "I'll be with you in just a moment honey, how about you go to the back, and I'll meet you there" you looked over your shoulder and blew a kiss to the man just to keep him calm. 

"Don't go darl" the blonde's grip on your hip now pulled you closer to her, "I thought we were having fun" she whispered. 

"Duty calls baby and I'm sorry but he's paying" you whispered to ear before placing a soft kiss on her cheek and removing yourself from her lap. You felt her eyes watch as you walked away.

"Nah, that dancer said she'd meet be back there!" The drunken man argued with the bouncer as you approached. "Is he with you?" Steve asked, you nodded, "yeah, this big boy is all mine" You gently took the drunken man's hand and took him to the private rooms for his paid dance. A 10-minute dance for $80. 

"What will it be tonight honey? Just a dance?" you asked as the man made himself comfortable on the black leather sofa, "I want the whole package babe, all of it!" he replied. "I like a man who knows exactly what he wants" you smirked before straddled his lap, his hands landed on your hips and his eyes glued to your chest. Your white lacy lingerie leaves little to the imagination but to him, his mind was already blown away that he was only inches away from the swell of your breasts. 

"Damn baby, you're so sexy" he mumbled as you started to grind your hips against him, careful not to make any physical touch to his lap. His hands ran up and down your back as he started to enjoy the movement of your body. "God you're perfect!" He added, throwing his head back a little to get a better view. 

"Hey! get out of here! You missed your turn!" He's tone switched, and you stopped your moments to look over your shoulder. The Russian blonde stood by the curtain with a glare that could kill the man if it was possible. "Honey, you're not supposed to be back here" you got off the man's lap. "Hey! where are you going? I paid for you! Get your arse back-"

"You don't want to finish that sentence" The woman cut him short of his sentence, "I'll give you $500 to get the fuck out of here" she added. The man looked between the two of you, "No! I want her, I paid for her, so she's mine!" he argued. 

"Baby, calm down" you turned to him. 

"Fine, I'll give you $1,000" she offered. The small room was silent for a few seconds as the drunken man thought about it, "you've got cash?" He asked more calmly, the blonde pulled a roll of money from her leather jacket and threw it at the man's feet, "Now get out of here" she watched as the man picked up the bank roll and quickly counted it. "Whatever, she's yours" he mumbled before leaving in a huff. 

"Y-you can't do that…Do you know how much he was going to pay just for a 30-minute dance?" You turned to the woman. "I'll double it" she replied sternly, "you know I'm good for its" she added. For the whole package the man wanted was $150 plus tips and with some going to Mr Barnes the money you had left would've helped go towards paying the electric bill on time. 

"I'll pay the double as a tip so it's all yours" 

"Do we have a problem here honey? I saw that man storm out of here" Agatha pulled the curtain back slightly to check on you, "Everything is fine here, he just got a little too drunk and wasn't following the rules" you lied. Agatha looked between you and the blonde and nodded slowly, "Holla if you need anything" she said before disappearing. Your eyes looked back at the woman you didn't know the name of and nodded softly, "Okay, take a seat" you gestured towards the sofa. 

Within minutes you found yourself straddling her waist while her hands replaced the touch the man left behind. "I never caught your name before" you smiled softly as you started to move your body against her. "Baby girl, you don't have to give me a dance, I just didn't like the idea of you with him" she replied.

 "You're paying honey, it's what I do, just sit back and let me take your mind off things" 

She sat back and watched the way you moved your body, letting her explore the softness of your skin more than you've ever let anybody touch you. She was respectful and only let her hands roam parts you were comfortable with. You noticed the way her eyes watched every movement you made, running her tongue over her lips when she got a close-up view of your breasts. You could feel her hot breath brush over your back when you gave her a better view of your ass and hips. 

"That's enough" she stopped you, her hands leaving your hips as you stood up right. "You still had another 5 minutes" you turned around and faced her. She looked up at you with her mouth slightly open before patting her lap like she did earlier. "I want to take you out of this club" she said as you straddled her lap once again, you chuckled biting your bottom slightly, "and what? You're going to take me out of here and fall in love? Get married and live a happy ever after with a kid or two? It's going to take a lot more than just throwing rolls of money at men to really get my attention" you said honestly. 

"Is that what you want?" She asked as you felt her hands gently rub the inside of your thighs. "to get married, have kids and live the boring housewife life?" She adds. You stopped her hands from traveling further, "No, it's not" you looked into her eyes. 

"Then why are you scared?" 

"Scared? I just met you and you haven't even told me your name"

The Russian chuckled, "if it's that important to you, my name is Yelena. What's yours? Not your stage name" 

You hesitated for a moment, it was against the guidelines to tell any client your real name or anything real about yourself but something about her made you tell her. "Y/n" you smiled softly. "Pretty name for such a pretty little thing" she replied with a smirk, the look in her eyes making you nervous. "Now can I take you out of here?" 

"Why? What do you want with me so badly?" you asked, brushing a small lock of hair behind her ear. "You want to know what I want?", you nodded softly. 

"I want to give you what you're asking for. I can see it in your eyes that you're bored that you want something new. I saw the way you hated following that fucking loser in here, I watched how uncomfortable were before I interrupted and if I'm being honest, I fucking hated watching his hands all over you, over what's mine"  

"What's yours?" You cocked a brow, "You've just met me, your words mean nothing I haven't heard before. You're just like the rest of them and I'm the girl you pay to give you a good time" 

Her eyes fell to your lips as she bit her bottom lip lightly, "I'm nothing like them, I can give you everything you've ever wanted" 

"Ah yes, the 'I have so much money I can get you whatever you want' chat. Honey, keep your tip, I have other clients waiting just out those doors so unless you want to talk about something or the last few minutes of the dance you paid for, I'm going to go" you tried to move but her grip on your hips kept you in place. 

"You're too pretty to be in a place like this, dealing with all those men when you could be with me. I'm not looking for love, I'm not going to put you up in a nice fancy house or buy the finest of handbags, what I want is to hear the pretty sounds I know you can, I want to be only one to have my hands all over you and I can see you want that too" her eyes looked deeply into yourself, "you told that lady before a lie and daddy doesn't like lairs baby girl, I want to punish you for that, have you begging me to stop while I've your back arched so much all you can do is scream my name. That's what I want" 

You were so lost in her words you bother stopping her fingers from rubbing tight circles on your clit through your panties. "W-wh-what else?" You stuttered trying to keep yourself from moaning, your hands gripping her shoulders for support. 

"If I take you home, your mine. Nobody will ever make you feel the way I can, I want to feel the way your tight little pussy clenches around my fingers, I want to break you, I want to be the only person you'll ever need. But you play up and daddy will have punished you and I don't to hurt my little princess" she whispered against your ear as you bucked your hips into her hand, "I can basically fucking smell how much you want to cum, can you be a good girl and let your boss watch through the camera while I fuck you with my fingers?" 

You nodded, grinding your hips for more friction, "Y-yes" you moaned quietly to her. 

"Good girl" she smirked moving your panties to the side and sliding two fingers into your soaking pussy with ease. "Oh god" you sighed. "Shhh baby, you can't let them hear you, not yet" she kissed your neck softly, "ride daddy's fingers" she whispered. You picked up your pace, chasing your high knowing how wrong this was and the chances of being caught only made you wetter as you rode her fingers. "That's it baby girl, you going to cum for daddy?" She asked

"Yes" you whimpered. "Yes what?" She asked with her free hand helping you ride faster. "F-fuck!" You moaned, "y-yes da-daddy, fuck!" Your grip on her shoulders turned into your nails digging into her skin. "Look at the camera when you cum baby, show your boss how much of a whore you really are" Yelena instructed, "you're so close and so fucking tight" she adds.

"D-daddy please!" 

"Please what baby?"

"I n-need to cum!" You looked up at the camera like the good girl you were, "cum for me baby" she whispered as you let go and collapsed against her, "fuck!" You moaned close to her ear. She moved her fingers to drag out your orgasm. 

"Such a good girl" she smirked once you came down from your high, pulling her fingers out of you and bringing them to her lips, licking them clean of your juices. 

"Now, are you going to be daddy's good girl let me take you home to clean you up?"

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @observeowl  | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok |  @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @maria-403 | 

If you don't want to be on the taglist for smut related fics, please let me know xx

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #fanfiction #black widow #marvel

[bignosebaby]

Hi! Can you explain how to tell the difference between the different types of orangutans? 🦧

Absolutely! The three species can be hard to tell apart, but there are small differences which distinguish them. Here's a comparative photo of adult males from each species from NE Primate Conservancy:

The first in this picture is the Bornean orangutan, and (at least in my opinion) this species looks the strangest, at least in terms of the fully developed adult males. The secondary sex characteristics such as the throat sac and flanges are typically very pronounced in this species whereas I find the Sumatran orangutans to be more subtle and less lumpy. Here's another Bornean male:

This species has the largest flanges, which tend to angle inwards towards the face. Their fur is also predominantly dark brown and burnt orange-- the darkest in colour of the three species.

The second photo in the comparative photo is a Sumatran orangutan. They have longer facial and body hair than their Bornean counterparts, and the flanged male face shape is more round. Chester Zoo (one of the only zoos in the world that houses breeding groups of more than one orangutan species) describes the flanges of Sumatran orangutans as being more slender compared to the fatty flange of the Bornean orangutan.

The third is the Tapanuli orangutan, the rarest and most recently discovered. Their fur is frizzier and thicker than the other species which is probably the easiest difference to observe if you're looking for yourself. Check out the bed head (and body) on this female Tapanuli orangutan:

Their fur is also the lightest in colour. Where the Bornean orangutan is dark brown and burnt orange, the Tapanuli orangutan is true orange with blond highlights .

Flanged males also have flatter cheek pads in this species. If the cheek pads are parallel with the rest of the face or tilt slightly outwards it's more likely to be a Tapanuli than either of the others, as flanged male Bornean and Sumatran orangutans sometimes have flange that angle inwards.

So basically:

Bornean orangutans: Dark fur, fat flange

Sumatran orangutans: Long orange fur, slender flange

Tapanuli orangutans: Frizzy orange fur with highlights, flat flange.

If you still can't tell the difference between the species, that is normal! Despite the three being distinct species rather than subspecies, most of their differences are in hard to see aspects like bone shape and size or downright invisible aspects such as genetic markers. Chester Zoo (cited above) even mentions that the differences between individuals are easier to spot than differences between the species. The important thing is that regardless of species, you looked at a wonderful orangutan.

#apes #great apes #orangutans #spot the difference #primates #ape facts #wildlife #conservation #animal facts #animals #info #asks

[fanficfanatic000]

Edward fucking munson

Eddie Munson x fem reader enemies to lovers 18+ TW no minors

Hawkins was a small town but you were always quiet and a loner you didn't really have many friends at all. You worked at the arcade and it was a decent job except for certain customers like a blonde haired basketball player to a adult slob that greased up the machines..It was a normal work day. You were on your lunch break on a normal Saturday the usual customers came and went until a shadow of a short frame came up behind you short curly hair and a lighter voice "hi um one of the games are not working can you check it out?" You were just about finished with your lunch and he seemed pretty kind compared to others you stood up "uh yeah sure just lead the way." He grinned "hi im dustin." "Im y/n glad to meet ya dustin""So do you like nerdy things?"he said walking slowly "mmm i guess yeah i am considered a nerd...." you thought he was trying to make small talk... "do you like dungeons and dragons?" "Well ive never really played but yeah it kinda interests me "He led you to the arcade machine and it wasn't processing the coins hmm there must be a wire loose or a jam but that wasn't in your skill level "sorry kid its jammed or something ill try to get it fixed tomorrow" he looked slightly disappointed You barely noticed the group of people looking at you 2 other boys younger than you and one much younger girl..all wearing the same t shirts Then you looked at dustin as he spun around to maybe his friends "guys this is y/n i think she should join hellfire" a taller much sarcastic boy says "what! But shes a random girl!!" A dark skined boy says back "but eddie said to recruit people he didnt say male gendered"The smaller girl shouts "look mike shes all we've got.. its better to show up with her than no one!" You just watching this happen not knowing what to say The sarcastic one Mike rolled his eyes "fine but if eddie says no im throwing you all under the bus!" Dustin nodded his head"So y/n hellfire is a dnd club at Hawkins high after hours every other day if you want to come play some dnd just meet me outside of Hawkins high at 4:00pm" you nodded "okay i will be there" they left after that and the rest of the night was pretty normal. Sunday passed so fast you basically cleaned your room and watched your favorite movie than fell asleep and it was Monday you got dressed in a tank top your favorite color some ripped jeans and your converse and your favorite jewelry and threw your jacket on. You put some black eyeliner on and you were ready You listened to one of your favorite bands on a cassette player and it was 3:40 so you drove to Hawkins high and you parked and saw dustin he was kinda like a little brother you stepped out of your car and "Y/N yes! You're here!" "Just on time " you look down at your watch and see it change to 4:00 "okay lets go" you followed dustin through the school halls you remembered see you went to public school until freshman year and you got bullied so bad you had to do homeschooling instead you were graduated now though. You watch the door open to reveal a dimly lit room full of people. Mike. Dustin. Lukas. Erica. And 4 others you walk in and dustin moves out from infront of you "eddie this is y/n."A tall handsome intimidating man stands up from a throne of some kind he stepped around the table and stands infront of you his frame slightly towering over you" this is who you found Henderson " he pinched his nose bridge "this girl is what you found she probably wouldn't know anything about dnd or anything!" You felt attacked but little did they know is that you can snap back " this girl probably would probably win anyways" you said with a smirk he stepped closer smugly bending slightly "you think so Princess?" His eyes meeting yours and they felt familiar for whatever reason. "Okay lets play!"

#fandom #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson lives #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #fanfic #eddie #enemies to lovers #Em enemies to lovers #Edward fucking munson

[ladykailitha]

Find My Shade By the Moonlight Part 1

Hello, hello! I bit off more than I could chew trying to get this done by today. But! Here is the first part. They'll be shorter than my usual because it fits the story better.

The title comes from Voodoo by Godsmack, of which was used as the credit song in the first season of the series.

Hazing clouds rain on my head

Empty thoughts fill my ears

Find my shade by the moonlight

Why my thoughts aren't so clear?

The story takes place in a universe where the show continued past the two seasons it was given and is set in 2006. It is also set where the events of the first four seasons happened to other people, but their lives mirror the lives of the people in 1986.

Summary: In the fifth season of the landmark MTV series Fear, they take five college age adults and drop them into the ghost town that is now Hawkins, IN. After the earthquake in 1986 the town was evacuated due to a leak at the now defunct Hawkins Lab.

Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan must now complete tasks or dares over the next two nights, tapping out before completing the task forfeits your chance at $5000. All five will be tested to their limits, but will any of them come out of the experience unchanged?

****

Steve heard rustling around him as he was sat down on a very dusty sofa. He coughed a bit, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

They had been told that they had to wait until the grandfather clock chimed the hour before they were allowed to remove their blindfolds.

The rustling continued, but in a restless way instead of a simple being moved around way.

The grandfather clock chimed four o’clock in the hallway and Steve pulled off his blindfold.

He was in a large front room that had faded blue carpeting and matching sofas and arm chairs. In front of him was table that had a bunch of equipment and a velvet covered board that had five colored bands. Behind the table was a weird tower that had a screen on it.

Around him were two boys and two girls. The first of the girls had choppy blonde hair and bright blue eyes that sparkled with a mischief that had Steve fighting back a smile. Her style was what his mother called Bohemian. Which he always thought was the polite way of saying eclectic. She had rings and necklaces and bangles everywhere to match her clothes.

The second of the girls also had blue eyes, but short dark curly hair instead of blonde. She wore black slacks and a plain white button down, the sleeves went to her elbow and it was buttoned all the way to her neck. Peaking out of the collar was a simple heart pendant that fell right below the second button.

Steve could feel his cheeks flush when she noticed him looking at her. He turned his attention to the boys. The first one was a quiet boy with light hair and dark brown eyes. He wore jeans and t-shirt with a simple chain around his neck.

He contrasted hard with the remaining boy. He had big brown eyes and long, dark, curly hair. The leather jacket and ripped jeans only completed the look of the many chains and necklaces he was wearing. His hands fiddled nervously with the many rings on his fingers. His Cupid bow lips were set in a firm line, framed by dimples that where there even when he wasn’t smiling.

Steve forced himself to look away.

“Welcome, everyone,” came the robotic male voice that sounded vaguely British. The screen in front of them lit up and the words appeared on the screen as they were being spoken.

“You will each be assigned a random color,” the voice continued. “That color will be randomly chosen to do dares. You will be outfitted with personal cameras that will record you when you are out doing dares. You will be given a dare and time to do it in. If you fail to do the dare in the time limit or you become too frightened and wish to tap out, you will out of the game.”

They all looked at each other nervously.

“You each have the opportunity to win $5000,” the voice said. “This isn’t a ‘the less people you have the more money you get’ situation. If all of you tap out, a new team will be brought in to finish the dares.”

They all nodded.

“You will eat or sleep only during the day,” the voice continued. “Because all dares will be done at night.”

There was some murmuring about that, but Steve stayed silent. That’s what he figured it would be like.

“Because you arrived late in the evening, you will get one day to get to know each other and get set up for the dares.”

Steve breathed out a sigh of relief on that one. That would definitely make this easier. He wasn’t the only one that thought so as there were a couple others that nodded at that too.

“I will call you’re name,” the voice said, “and assign your color. Remember this random and no exchanging colors.”

There below the TV with talking voice were five armbands of different colors.

“Nancy your color is red.”

The dark-haired girl stood up and took the red band. She walked back to her seat and sat down, all without a word.

“Jonathan, your color is green.”

Jonathan cocked his head with a half shrug. He grabbed the green band and sat down on the arm of the sofa Steve was sitting on instead of going back to the chair they had put them in.

“Robin, your color is purple.”

“Could be worse,” she muttered as she got up to grab her band. “It could be pink.”

Steve grinned. He liked her already. Even Nancy hid her smile behind her hand.

“Eddie your color is black.”

The last remaining of Steve’s companions jumped up, pumping the air. “Score!” He skipped over to it and smirked at the last color on the table.

He made his way back to his chair, his knee starting to bounce almost instantly.

“Steve your color is yellow.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Like there was any other color left.” But he dutifully grabbed the remaining band.

“Tomorrow at sunset, you will don the gear in front of you and be assigned dares,” the voice said. “Until then rest, relax get to know each other. There are five bedrooms and three bathrooms as well as fully stocked kitchen. This is the only place that will have electricity and will be considered your safe house.”

“When will we find out where we are?” Nancy asked.

“Tomorrow morning. Until then everyone, get some rest. You’ll need it.”

And then computer turned off.

Robin stretched and yawned. “Fuck, I’m tired. I could sleep for days!”

Steve shook his head. “I’m going to stay up and sleep after they tell us where we are, so my body could adjust to the schedule of sleeping during the day and being awake at night.”

The rest of the group stared at him in shock.

“And how would you know that, pretty boy?” Eddie asked with a little sneer.

Steve sighed. He was about to lose the chance getting along with at least half of them with his next words. “My parents would take me with them on business trips and that how you avoid getting jetlag.”

“So are you rich?” Robin asked.

Steve shrugged. “My parents are. Me not so much anymore.”

“They toss you out?” Jonathan asked, kicking the sofa with the heel that was draped over the arm of the sofa.

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Nancy spoke first.

“He’s right about the jetlag thing though,” she said. “I travel a lot as a journalist and a new schedule can fuck you up good.”

Robin rubbed her chin. “I think that’s kinda the point though.”

They all stared at her like she was crazy.

“Now hear me out,” she said, her hands in the air. “The more tired we are, the more likely we are to get scared at whatever it is they throw at over the next couple of nights.”

“So you’re telling me,” Eddie said slowly, “that if we follow pretty boy’s plan, we can last longer in the scares?”

Robin nodded.

“I’m down,” Jonathan said.

Everyone agreed.

“So what’s the plan with staying awake, then?” Robin asked, turning to Steve.

He grinned.

****

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #fear mtv #fusion

[beautifulfaaces]

Ebon Moss-Bachrach

Facts

March 19, 1977

American actor

Filmography

Richie [The Bear: 2022]

John [The Dropout: 2022]

Trey [Interrogation: 2020]

David/ Mirco [Marvel's The Punisher: 2017]

Desi [Girls: 2014-2017]

Ethan [Upper East Side Love: 2007]

Steve [Winter Solstice: 2004]

Billy [Murder in a Small Town: 1999]

Appearance

brunette/ dark blonde

blue eyes

1.85m

Roleplay

playable: young adult, adult

#Ebon Moss-Bachrach #male 70s #male american #70s male american #the bear #the dropout #interrogation #marvel's the punisher #girls #upper east side love #winter solstice #murder in a small town #brunette male young #brunette male adult #70s male brunette #dark blonde male young #dark blonde male adult #70s male dark blonde #blue eyes male young #blue eyes male adult #70s male blue eyes #young adult male #adult male

[henrioo]

Do you write for Rosinante and male reader? If so can you write about Rosinante finding out he likes men because of reader? If you don't you can just make it about your fav! or you can also make it gender neutral :)

✦ ── I'm not in love!: Donquixote Rosinante

Relationships: Rosi x Gn! Reader, Child! Law x Platonic! Rosi/Reader

Synopsis: It's clear that Rosi cares about you, after all you are friends! Just friends, right?

Warnings: None, just fights between Law and Cora and Cora jealous

Word Count: 2,2k

Notes: I made it gender neutral because I only write for them, I hope you don't mind, sorry for the delay! English is not my first language so please forgive any mistakes. If you can evaluate this style of design I'd appreciate it, I'm doing some tests :)

Revision: @waitingmydemons

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

Rosi liked the cloudy, frosty mornings which were rare in Dressrosa, usually the tropical weather was warm enough to make you sweat even before sunrise. So having a change of weather after the rainy season was somewhat comforting, the place didn't exactly turn gray or dreary, it just got a little cooler and quieter. It seemed that the heat took with it the excitement of the island's civilians.

The point is, the man didn't exactly have a low immunity or anything like that, he dressed well and not even a drastic change could make him get the flu. Maybe it was the years of Marine training or the resistance created by the instinct to survive, it didn't really matter, the point was that he wouldn't get the flu. Why does it matter? See well...

Rosi was at that moment, it being too early for any of the children to be awake, carrying a dark brown fuzzy coat through the halls that he had bought in a store a few days ago when he realized that the weather was going to change. Next to that was a steaming mug of coffee, he walked calmly and silently through the palace corridors. If man didn't get sick, then who would these essential items be for in a change of climate? Oh yes... The answer can only be one: you.

You weren't fragile, far from it, but you weren't good with drastic weather changes. So when the blond man woke up and saw that the weather had changed he immediately thought of you, it wouldn't be a bad idea to grab a coat and a hot drink just to ensure your health, would it? He sighed as he looked out a window, his head light as countless thoughts raced through it. He hadn't even realized that he had stopped in front of your castle room, should he knock? Turn around and pretend nothing happened?

"You're doing it again" a small sleepy and all too familiar voice snapped him out of his cloud of thought. It was none other than little Law.

Cora looked confused at the boy without understanding what he was suggesting, the boy just sighed and shook his head in denial.

"You're taking too much care of (y / n)-san" he said with a certain harshness, in another situation Cora would joke that the boy was jealous, but at that moment he just wanted to understand what Law was assuming. "You still don't understand? You're too stupid" the boy said and crossed his arms.

If they were alone Cora could pretend to be hurt, but he couldn't risk that in the castle, so he just punched the boy in the head, as a light punishment.

"Ouch!" He caressed the bruised spot "You don't understand and I get it… Idiot" he whispered the last part "You really didn't notice?" Now Law seemed to be more willing to explain his thesis.

With Rosi's denial, the boy sighed again and then began to speak "Didn't you realize that your first thought of the day was to take care of them? You even bought this coat just for them! The first thing you did when you woke up was come here to deliver that!" He said louder with some anger.

Cora just shrugged, what was the problem with that? You were crewmates and lifemates, he should care about you, shouldn't he? Law seemed to get even more frustrated with the adult's cluelessness, so he snorted and spoke again.

"Didn't you realize you don't care that much about anyone else?" Now Rosi seemed to finally understand what he was implying, his cheeks flushed slightly "Seriously, everyone has already realized that you're in love with them… Well, everyone but you" he said with an evil smile.

Cora's eyes widened at the accusation, he wasn't in love with you! He just cared a lot, after all you lived together, it was the least he could do to have a good relationship with you! Not that he didn't find you very attractive and definitely a perfect match for a relationship, but that didn't mean anything! You were just friends!

"You're kind of pathetic…" Law sighed "At least do something about it, watching you walk after them like a stray puppy is depressing…" the boy said, yawned and then left for the corridors leaving the adult alone in his thoughts .

You were just friends, weren't you? Thoughts seemed confused and distorted… It wasn't like you acted any differently, of course, you usually spent hours talking, went on missions together, took care of the kids, sat next to each other at meals, you used to bandage Rosi, you were always exchanging gifts… But all friends did that, didn't they?

"Cora?" The adult jumped up and almost dropped his coffee mug on the floor when he heard your voice, then he turned around in a start and found you standing in the doorway of your room.

He tried to smile awkwardly, which elicited a low chuckle from you. But soon the smile disappeared from his face when he saw how you were dressed. You wore a long-sleeved shirt and not You were stiff and fuzzy pants, your hair was messy, and you had a sleepy smile and tired eyes. Your cheeks were a little red next to your nose, which confirmed Rosi's theory that you suffered from climate change.

The issue wasn't exactly how you looked, as to the man you would look beautiful even covered in blood, but what your looks were doing to him. His heart started to beat faster, he felt a heat rising in his stomach and his stomach lurched all over. You were so beautiful, so natural and so… he didn't even know what adjectives to use, homemade? Casual? Comfortable? Would you look so attractive next to him when the two of you wake up together on a cold morning? No! What kind of thoughts were those!?

"All good?" You asked upon seeing the man change, he then snapped out of his thoughts again and turned his attention to you.

He quickly agreed and then handed things over to you with some haste. You stared at the coat and coffee mug with some confusion.

"For me?" You had a shy smile. Cora nodded and saw you looking at the outfit with so much… love? His heart missed a beat, why did you look at that as if it were the most important thing in your life? "Thanks Cora… You always know what I need" you smiled at him and he swore he could be dead after all he was already seeing the sky "I promise I'll use it… And thanks for the coffee" with a low chuckle you closed the door and walked back to hide in the walls of your room.

The man took a deep breath when he realized he hadn't done that for so long, so he left the front of your room as quickly as possible. What was it? Why did he feel so confused and so sensitive around you? This... These feelings... Friends shouldn't feel this way, should they?

Breakfast was as lavish as ever, after all they were serving the king himself and his family, it made sense that the staff would want to go the extra mile. Rosi wasn't the type to eat a lot in the morning, he usually just drank his tea or coffee and waited until lunch to really have a decent meal. So he usually spent his time watching the children play with their food, listening to his brother's conversations with the other elders, and that was it. Usually he was good at maintaining the facade he'd built for years, the unbreakable, unshakable wall he liked to be known as.

But everything he had meticulously planned and created went down the drain when you walked into the dining hall. You wore the coat he had given you earlier and you were definitely looking perfect, you wore a cap that contrasted well with your hair color. You had red cheeks and your nose twitched slightly, you smiled and then greeted everyone. If he had to say something he would probably stutter and get lost, but the only action he could take was to spit out all the coffee when he was punched in the stomach by Law.

Everyone started laughing as he glared at the boy with a death glare, he also glared at him and then leaned closer to whisper.

"At least take it discreetly, idiot"

He bit his tongue at the thought that he might be acting suspiciously, wondering if anyone else had noticed that… You sat down next to Baby 5 and were playing with the little girl as you started to drink your own coffee. Cora decided that if he wanted to keep it natural he couldn't pay any more attention to you, so for the rest of the coffee he looked away and pretended he didn't even notice you at the table.

"Honestly, just ask them on a date" was the last thing Law said when everyone broke up at the end of breakfast.

A date? Like couples? But you weren't a couple… the thoughts hammered in his mind, he liked you a lot, but did he like you too much? With an expression of confusion he decided to go after you to find out if you had noticed anything different in your relationship. After all, you were extremely intelligent, maybe you understood the adult better than he did.

"Hm…thanks" He heard your nervous laugh and looked for you a little faster.

That's when he saw you and Trebol talking, his face was nervous and probably disgusted. The man was throwing himself at you and seemed to have a flirtatious tone. Cora's stomach lurched and he felt fire coursing through his veins, he didn't need to hear another word to act.

Quickly he grabbed your arm, you screamed in fright and stared at him confused. That's when he finally realized what he was doing, what right did he have to do this?

"Is everything okay cora?" You asked him with some trepidation.

Well, he had come this far, hadn't he? So taking his last dose of courage he simply grabbed you by the waist, threw it over his shoulder and ran. Trebol screamed in confusion demanding an answer and you screamed in fright as you clung to the man to keep from falling. Rosi's face burned with embarrassment and he just thought that you would never forgive him for acting like that.

When you were far away, in a hidden part of the castle's gardens, he finally put you down. Your hair was messed up and your cap had fallen out of the way, you were out of breath and you were staring at him with a mixture of anger, confusion and…gratitude?

"Cora! What the hell?!" You screamed and gave him a light slap on the chest, after which he started to take a deep breath trying to calm down.

Cora fidgeted with his hands nervously, how could he explain that whole situation? He didn't even know what was going on!

"Hey! Tell me!" You pressed him against the wall, he looked around nervously not wanting to explain "Come on, we're alone and you can talk now"

Sometimes he forgot that you knew about that detail. On a mission you decided to go with Cora and Law, in your case you wanted to do service to Doflamingo because you were part of his crew. Cora was already using the mission as an excuse to look for hospitals for Law, in the end you two ended up getting into a big mess that led Rosi to reveal that he could talk.

You even tried to find out why he hides it, he said he just got too nervous around other people. He wasn't an idiot either, you were loyal to Doflamingo for saving you and Rosi really didn't want to risk the bond you created by talking about his plan to take down his brother. So he just pretended he was too shy to speak in public.

"I… I didn't want to" he said nervously, he couldn't meet her eyes.

"Didn't want to do what? Kidnap me in the middle of a conversation?" You always teased him and now it just made him sink into a ball.

"Sorry," he muttered guiltily.

"Not really, Trebol is a pain in the ass" you laughed, you weren't mad at Cora, just confused "But that was… different I guess" you mused.

"Different?" he asked, confused.

"Yes, you've been different today, the way you look at me… If I didn't know better, I'd say you had a jealous fit with Trebol" you said smiling slyly at him, what you didn't expect was to see him cringing in embarrassment "Wait, I was kidding, are you jealous?"

"I… I don't like you talking to him" that wasn't a lie at all.

"Oh" you seemed to finally understand everything and smiled trying to reassure him "So I guess Law was right, you really are in love with me…"

"Yes, he probably is… What?!" He screamed in shock, had Law said that?

"Haha ha!" You burst out laughing "you should have seen your face… you are so cute" you admitted with red cheeks.

"(Y/n)..." He called you and you looked at him shyly.

"Yes?"

"Go out on a date with me, I like you" he finally managed to verbalize everything he felt.

"Took you long enough" you smiled at him.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #onepiece #anime imagines #one piece imagine #imagines #anime and manga #donquixote rosinate x reader #donquixote family #donquixote pirates #donquixote rosinante #cora san #rosinante x reader #rosinante corazon #op rosinante #one piece rosinante #cora x reader

[fervency-if]

Fervency - A Carnivorous Interactive Story

Fervency (link here) is an entirely text based interactive horror/drama game written in Choice Script. It's a work in progress, about 400 000 words at the moment.

After getting cured from a vicious plague by a mysterious physician, you begin to feel some strange and unfamiliar cravings - namely a fervent desire for flesh or blood. When attending a lavish masquerade, your nagging hunger or thirst get harder and harder to withstand.

Hidden behind your mask of choice, you need to decide how to deal with your yearning belly or parched throat. Whether to feast, to fast, or take a more 'medical' approach. Whether to accept your bloodthirst, embrace it, or distract yourself from it.

The game will contain two parts. Part I was, at the beginning, meant to be a stand-alone game, and can therefore be played as such. It has about twenty alternative endings, large and small. Part II is a work in progress. The ones that are currently being worked on are:

The Physician's path - You decided to pursue the 'medical' arts with the secretive Physician as your companion.

The Metropolitan path - You decided to go to the city with Aubrey as your companion, living a decadent life of excess.

More paths to come.

Play as male, female, or non-binary - with a choice to be cisgender, transgender, or keeping it undisclosed - and romance or befriend male, female, and non-binary characters. Each romance is fully open for allosexual and asexual main characters alike.

This is a game intended for an adult audience; violence and a whole lot of blood is to be expected in the vast majority of the branches - the violence isn't gratuitous, but it is there, being an ingrained part of the story and atmosphere at large - and the story also contains somewhat explicit (fully optional) sexual content.

Choice of Games Forum thread (it's in the adult category.)

Some information about the current love interests:

Love interests that you meet in Part I:

The Physician (female, bisexual) - A curious, secretive, and intelligent woman with a passion for medicine - even though her methods of healing are quite unconventional indeed. She doesn't want to tell you too much about herself until she trusts you enough. She seeks a friend or a lover who wants to cure rather than kill, and who she feels comfortable opening up to.

Physical appearance: She is tall, with broad shoulders and a curvy, strong-looking figure. Her hair is black, long, and wavy, and her skin is light brown. She has dark brown eyes, prominent cheekbones, an aquiline nose, and a mouth with a full upper lip and defined lower lip. She is rarely seen without her beaked mask. She favours fancy dresses, especially if they're royal blue.

Aubrey Carmel (male, bisexual) - A hedonistic, amorous, and quite unhinged young man, ravenous and ferocious. He takes great delight in the uncanny and the macabre. He's the son of the Mayor of the village, but holds no interest in politics whatsoever - instead, morbid visual art is his forte. He constantly seeks joy, delight, and pleasure, and would love to experience this with you.

Physical appearance: He looks altogether delicate - from his facial features, to his short stature and slight build. He's got golden blond, curly hair, a pointy chin, a pointy Cupid's bow and a full lower lip, pale skin, and faint circles underneath his eyes. He loves luxurious yet comfortable silky lounge wear, and wears gold-rimmed spectacles.

Love interests that you meet in the Physician's path:

Roswhen Acer (non-binary, bisexual) - A friendly and charming person who makes their coin playing the flute. They love music and fashion, and always tries to look classy and sharp despite their slim purse. They have a quite excitable demeanour, and would adore to share their excitement and a good amount of smiles with you.

They are of medium height, and on the slimmer side of medium build. Their skin is brown, and their hair, which is often tied up in elaborate styles, is a dark shade of reddish brown. They've got large, dark eyes, a soft mouth, and high cheekbones. They often dress in wine red clothes with floral ornaments, roses being their signature symbol.

Elan Vega (male, bisexual) - A shy, sensitive, and gloomy man with a dry sense of humour, who worked as a woodcutter before falling ill from the plague. He's a tad rough around the edges, and can come off as impolite at times, but this is more due to his jittery nerves and lack of social grace than actual rudeness. He desires a friend or a lover that he can feel safe, secure, and comfortable with.

Physical appearance - He's tall, with a firm, muscular build. His hair is dark brown and wavy, he has a stubble beard, dark green, upturned eyes, a prominent, straight nose, and light brown skin. He dresses for comfort instead of style, wearing plain colours, tunics that are a size or two too large and loose-fitting trousers. He has a fondness for scarves.

Love interests that you meet in the Metropolitan path:

Vesa Rice (female, bisexual) - A chipper, fun-loving, sociable, and easygoing woman who owns a art gallery/lounge called The Masque. She's interested in unconventional art, as well as fun yet glamorous clothes. She always looks snappy, and is often seen with a glass of Absinthe in her hand. She looks for a friend or a lover who can bring smile after smile to her face.

Physical appearance: She is about medium height, of medium build, and with a narrow figure. She has got dark hair in a pageboy haircut, tan-looking skin, wide dark blue eyes, and a small mouth. Her lips are just about always painted a vibrant shade of red. She has a fondness for jewelry, feathers, and headpieces.

Narciso Dela Nougerede (male, bisexual) - A poised and cunning man with a heavenly voice, who's music, beauty, elegance, and charisma makes his fans swoon... and more. Due to being a castrato, his voice is a rare sort indeed. He has a calm and pleasant demeanour, but holds many a secret, some more open than others. He looks for understanding, someone who accepts him for his internal qualities.

Physical appearance: He is very tall, with a full, plump, and soft figure. His facial features are soft yet chiseled. He's got wide hazel eyes, full lips, fair and smooth skin, and large, shiny curls of auburn hair. He has a characteristic little birthmark underneath his right eye. He dresses in soft colours, fine fabrics, and fancy jewelry.

A few of the upcoming love interests are Bess Cosette (lesbian woman,) Francesco Bianchi-Sweetbriar (gay man,) Maryam Aisling (bisexual woman,) and Bryars Tamarisk (bisexual man.) You can interact with these particular people at the feast to get a feel for them.

#interactive fiction #choice script #horror #fervency #interactive horror

[hekateinhell]

Vamptember, Day 7: Reverse AU

adult vampire!Claudia and little mortal!Lestat | M | 1.3k | tags: abuse and SA mentions/references, gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

New Orleans, 1808

Winter in New Orleans makes the evenings draw on longer. 

Meaning that Claudia has to create her own entertainment lest she go mad with boredom; she takes what she wants and does as she pleases. 

How many other women can say that? 

Sitting in front of the vanity, turning her head from side-to-side, pondering which role best suits her temperament tonight.

Pity she had been a poor white’s daughter at her death, malnourished to the point of missing her menses at the mature age of twenty. Oh, how utterly brutal the beatings were when her father and brothers caught on and arrived at the wrong conclusion! 

Whore. Slut. Witch. 

Such a rabid pleasure to crush each of their skulls between her hands the night she’d returned to the dingy little shack by the river. A giggle escaping her at each agonizingly slow crack of bone, delighting in their futile struggles. Dark torrents of blood igniting the demonic thirst inside her, and finally, the gelatinous messes — more fun than mud pies — gushing as she digs her thumbs into their eye sockets. 

Eyes that had violated her long before their ever hands did. 

“Witch!” 

“And yet it’s you that shall burn at the stake tonight, father dearest! Fancy that!” 

She beams at her reflection at the memory, the blonde ringlets that cascade over her small breasts bouncing as she trembles with poorly suppressed anticipation. Not a wasteful eater, no, but she does enjoy playing with her food. 

Finishing touches, a robin’s blue ribbon in her hair, her corset cinched tight to create the hourglass figure she most certainly did not possess. 

Childbearing hips that would never bear onto her a child, the son that the Lord she once prayed to for deliverance had sent to her in her dreams. A promise that one day she would have final dominion over the male sex. 

Flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood. 

Holy Mary, mother of God.

It’s humid when she sets out, but then again, it’s always humid in New Orleans: a sinner’s city, a gambler’s paradise. Fragrant roses combine with the stench of urine and decay as she makes her way down the cobblestone streets, taking in the sounds of the night. A child cries, a man yells to his wife: You stupid bitch!; a horse and carriage trot by, the mud almost reaching her shoes; a drunkard’s piercing laugh. 

“Hey, pretty lady, what are you doing all by your lonesome? Don’t you know what happens to dainty little things like you in places like these?”

Sounds like a tramp but means well. He has two sisters at home; one older and one younger. Claudia reminds him of the youngest. 

“Oh, I didn’t know! I’m new to the area, you see, and terribly disoriented! I don’t mean to trouble you Sir, but it is awfully late and now I am awfully frightened… If you could please escort me to my home, I have been trying to find my way back for hours to no avail!” She knows what men like to hear.

She can be demure.

Helpless. 

“Of course, darling,” he proffers her his arm which she graciously accepts, “I know this city like the back of my own hand.” 

Perfect. 

A quick, satisfying break of his elbow and his knees soon follow before she takes her first drink of the night, the gambler’s luck running dry as his sweet blood runs down her throat. His heart pounding on her tongue, the glorious resistance she craves gradually fading. No, no! Fight me more, handsome. Fight me just as hard as I fought them! Alas, it is finished and Claudia pulls back, wiping her mouth on her lace glove. 

She stands in the shadows, still clutching the body, savoring the aftertaste. Not an evil soul, merely one made unfortunate by virtue of his sex, as she had once been.  

A hunter as shrewd as she, a woman who’d been raised to have the survival instincts of a prey animal in the jungle, shouldn’t have been caught off guard by sudden wailing so high-pitched, Claudia cringes into herself. Relentlessly loud and surely bound to attract attention!

The body hits the ground with a wet thud as another, much smaller body barrels into her skirts, clinging to her legs. 

Images flash through the child’s mind; he can’t be older than five. A brute of a father raising his fists. A mother cold and impassive, her nose in a book as her children wept for her affections, even her scolding lacked interest. “Quiet down, Lestat.” Blonde and beautiful yet gaunt — Claudia had she lived another ten years, perhaps. Lived the wretched life she was destined to have, like her mother before her and her mother before her. 

This woman doesn’t want her child, and the decision is made. 

“There, there,” she drops to her knees to embrace the boy. His hair tangled unkempt, a shade strikingly similar to hers. His face covered in dirt, the scrapes along his arms and legs still oozing blood. Delirious from terror, hunger, and exhaustion, and in the darkness, he thinks she is his mother.

Claudia swallows back her thirst. 

“I didn’t mean it!” he sobs as he presses himself flush to her chest, burrowing into her sharp collarbone. Tears, dirt, and mucus smear all over the cotton of her dress, her hardened skin. “I didn’t mean to run! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I want to go home! I’ll be good! I’ll listen, I promise!”

Yes, Claudia's decision has been made, but not here. 

“I know, dearest,” she lifts him off the ground and he settles momentarily, soft and warm. Pulls back to stare at her face, large grey eyes blinking at her. 

He touches her cheek, curious and gentle. Frowns. 

“Mama, you’re so cold.” 

There’s a second where she can feel his hummingbird heart quicken, little rosebud mouth pinching as he sniffles loudly, the tears gathered on his long lashes suspended as he holds her stare with intensity. But then it passes, and he rests his head on her shoulder.

“You need a blanket, Mama,” he sighs and drops his sticky fingers from her cheek, bringing his thumb to his mouth instead. She, too, had suckled her thumb until far too old an age. 

Back home, she cleanses his face.

He whines in his sleep, whimpering into her palm. Fragile and pitiful as the newborn kittens her brother Edgar had drowned to punish her. 

Her clothes are too big, and the doll’s clothes are too small. She cuts a nightgown three-quarters of the way short. The candle flickers and so does her confidence, but it’s too late now. His lifeblood flowing over her tongue, his little heart going and going, refusing to give up! Burst after vibrant burst, innocence devoured. 

Mama, Mama… I love you, Mama.

Claudia groans with it, the flavor of unrivaled purity unlike anything she's ever sampled before. She's never had to catch herself at the very edge of the precipice before; the shadow of a thought passes through her mind that perhaps she doesn't have to — she'll gorge herself on this one and find another to suit the same purpose: make for herself a son sculpted in her unholy image alone. 

But this precious heart! It still won't surrender! How can she trust that she will ever find another with not only the looks to match hers, but one that reflects back to her her own unbroken tenacity? 

“Mama’s here,” she tears open her bodice, exposing her breast, the dark blue vein at the underside. Makes the incision, guiding the child’s mouth to it. She will be Thetis reimagined in the spirit of the new age, submerging the baby Achilles in the River Styx to grant him immortal life, this time careful to fully saturate the heel.

The greedy thing latches quickly, reflexes of an infant still nestled in his subconscious as he takes all that Claudia has to offer.

It must be the male in him. 

“Mama’s here,” she repeats, stroking his hair, humming a long-forgotten lullaby.

Once, a poor woman’s only comfort to her daughter. Now, a little boy’s dirge.

“And you’ll be good for your Mama, won’t you, Lestat?”

#my first vamptember this year rip ACTUALLY I WANTED TO WRITE THIS ONE LAST YEAR AND NEVER GOT AROUND TO LMAO #claudia #lestat de lioncourt #vampire chronicles #vc #vamptember #prompts

[tigerspite]

Would you believe me if I said I re-wrote this from scratch four times?

Anyway. Hopefully this gives a bit of context to the previous chapter. Remember that this is all being written out of order.

Read the rest of The Devil's Claw here

Next chapter

-

CHAPTER ?? / The Captive

Under blue pre-dawn light, a human staggers across a beach on the southern coast of England. His clothes are ragged and torn, hanging from his body after soaking up sea water, and his dark blonde hair is plastered to his head. He makes it no further than twenty paces up the sandy slope towards the cliffs before collapsing, crawling towards the shelter of a rock and slumping against it.

"He is already dead. This is a waste of our time," Varzis hisses, her glare ferocious. "Solkis has no use for specimens like this."

Wethraks lurks behind an outcrop with the rest of the crew, fixed on the unmoving body. So few humans remain around the steep and rugged cliff edges of the coast, with almost all viable land destroyed by dramatically increased sea levels and the natural disasters surrounding Earth's Collapse. His patrol ventured so far in search of any surviving colonies and securing the area, but the man is the first he has seen in days. A dim flicker in the back of his mind suspects he is a distraction, a decoy to start an ambush on his crew, but their scouting Shanks and Servitors are silent.

The human clinging to the boulder before them is utterly and completely alone.

"There is nothing of worth in a half-drowned human." she continues, turning away as if she cannot stand to look at him any longer.

""Humans don't come out of the sea," he counters. "Solkis will want to study him, even if he releases him afterwards. There has to be a reason why he's here."

Chuffing sharply at his rebuttal, she shoves a set of chains and cuffs into his hands. "Then he is your burden alone. Some of us have better things to attend, and a city to go home to."

He flexes his mandibles in protest, but Varzis stalks away before he can make a more coherent argument. The members of the crew who do not yet understand that he is the one in command, not her, follow with haste. Having authority over her while he is a Vandal, and she is a Captain who saw him freshly docked and joining her crew on Sepiks-Fel, is not an adjustment she accepts.

With an aggrieved sigh, Wethraks rises to his full height and slinks from his hiding place. Cautious, he circles from several feet away, scanning for concealed weapons or wounds on the human that might aggravate if he touches the wrong place. Provoking him into a fight when he has no backup is certain doom. Adult males particularly tend to resist capture, especially when alone, and Solkis's trappers have plenty of scars and stories between them to prove why they recommend specific care be taken.

While caked in sand and salt and draped across a boulder, however, he appears harmless enough.

Alerted to movement, the man stirs and lifts his head. Eyes cloudy with exhaustion, he stares without registering what is in front of him. Before he is able to spend any more time processing, however, Wethraks steps behind him and closes in to take his arms.

Mercifully, he does not resist the shackles. But the dead weight of one limb, colder than the rest of his body, steals his focus away. Rolling the cuff of his sweater sleeve up, he a wrist made entirely of metal. Through the rips in the fabric, steel plates shift over each other as he pulls his arm around to restrain him fully. It looks like a prosthetic limb - one at odds with post-Collapse human manufacturing, and unusually elaborate to be of Eliksni make. Dozens of wires and servos within work together to produce the most subtle movements, indistinguishable from a real limb, and he cannot help but feel along his back to find the seam where metal meets flesh around his shoulder.

For a moment, he wonders if he is one of the mechanical humanoids that are occasionally found in the wilds given flesh and bone, a monstrous experiment never meant to see the light of day. Casting him out to sea to be forgotten would ensure that nobody learned of what happened, but they must not have accounted for whether the tides would carry him ashore. Through that, he feels a pang of sympathy for the man. Solkis's anthropologists would be over him like flies, regardless, elated at the opportunity to investigate someone so unusual. They would take better care than whoever had him before.

Confident that he is secure and too exhausted to fight back, Wethraks takes the chain trailing off of the handcuffs and drags him from the rock, pulling him up the path towards the cliff face. His captive slides through the sand without resistance, weighing nothing compared to others he has taken. As concerning as it is, he finds he is thankful. A pliable, co-operative human is more accepting of their fate and more willing to be left sedated in a cell than someone who comprehends what is happening to them. Even if the agreeableness comes from a dangerous lack of energy.

It takes a few minutes until he reaches the top of the cliff, where the anchored convoy of Skiffs rests. At their edge, Varzis narrows her eyes to see him and chatters her mandibles in distaste. She heaves herself away from the ship she rests against with a growl, personally inconvenienced by his brief detour but already moving to the loading ramp.

"Wait there. We'll have to re-distribute the salvage to accommodate your prize." she calls, bobbling her head before disappearing into the circle of ships to unload.

Wethraks chitters back in return, choosing to ignore her vitriol and pulling his human to where a set of storage crates have been stacked. Propping him up to sit against it and lifting the crate to put the end of the chain underneath, he hums at the paleness to his skin. Cold like ice. Without intervention that he does not have access to, and although the Skiff is warm, he senses he may not survive the journey home unless extra care is taken.

Unbuckling his cloak, he settles it over the man and tucks it in around his body. The action rouses him, blinking up at his captor in a daze, and the recognition of his situation takes a few seconds to register. His breath catches and he jerks back, the metal limb twisting to try and pry free of his bindings.

"Stop, stop stop stop!" Wethraks trills, putting all four hands out to steady him. Careful to avoid touching him directly, he keeps him corralled against the box. "I am not going to hurt you!"

Breathing heavy and eyes wild, the fear scent emanating from him is palpable. There is no way it can be his first encounter with Eliksni, but Wethraks senses that it may be the first time he has heard one speak his language. That often shocks and disorients the other captives the most.

He crouches down to his level to seem as non-threatening as possible. "So- um, hello," He gives an awkward little wave with an upper hand and offers a smile. "I have to let you know that you've been captured for being on House Devils territory. You'll be safe, but my Captain is taking us back to London with you as our prisoner."

The human blinks hard again, staring for a heartbeat too long in the wake of his introduction. That, or he is attempting to work out whether anything in front of him is real or a delusion. He glances around, brow furrowed while he searches to make sense of any of his surroundings.

"My name is Wethraks, Vandal of House Devils," He leans over, back into his line of sight and blocking out anything that could confuse him further. "I need to ask you a few questions, unless you have any for me first?"

The man sighs, and a voice rough from saltwater and disuse comes out of him. “What do you want from me?"

“I'm afraid it's not really my business, my Baron makes those decisions," Wethraks shakes his head. "But we will take care of you, he may want to see you personally. He's friendly."

His affirmations receive nothing more than a grunt and another bout of broken eye contact. He shifts where he sits, wincing in protest of the movement, but offers nothing further to say.

Wethraks waits until he is done and settled, watching him expectantly. "Are you hurt?"

The response is short and immediate. "No."

"Okay," he trails off, and tilts his head. "Can I ask for your name?"

"Yami."

"Do you know how you got here?"

Silence. A mistrustful, sideways look.

"Do you know where you are, or where you were before this?"

No answer.

Wethraks understands then that it is going to be a very, very long trip back to London.

#destiny 2 #eliksni #destiny fanfiction #d2 #wethraks wednesday #tdc

[mooncakesofpan]

Hi Moon. Can I request a fic/headcanons for SDV Sam x reader please? She/they pronouns. Friends to lovers with a farmer who dense as hell to flirting. Thanks for taking the time to read this. :)

Sam x Reader

A/n:So sorry this took so long to get out I'm slowly getting back to writing

Warning: mention of the Saloon, mentions of drinking alcohol, no actual drinking, She/They Reader

Word Count: 1k

SDV Masterlist|Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK

You never thought that you’d actually take advantage of the farm your grandpa granted to you in his will you would never have guessed you’d be walking into town on a Sunday afternoon to get seeds to help jumpstart your new life. The weather was warm and the sun was beating down on you as you made your way threw town looking for the general store you saw two guys around your age one blonde and the other had dark hair. The blonde one stood on a skateboard and wears a blue denim jacket, and the black-haired one in a dark purple hoodie smoked a cigarette.

“Uh hi, do you know where the general store is,” you say feeling a bit awkward.

the blonde hops of the skateboard

“Oh yeah it's right over there,” he says pointing past the salon.

“Oh thank you I'm y/n.” You stick out your hand.

“Sam, oh and this is Sebastian.”

The dark hair male gave a slight wave.

"Well nice to meet you, Sam, Sebastian” you make your way to the general store thinking about the energetic blonde.

The months of you getting closer to the group and eventually meeting Abigail.

Typically on a Friday night, you'd be cleaning up around your farm but that wasn't the case tonight. You found yourself laughing with the 3 other young adults in the game room of the saloon. 

”Y/n why don't you play a game with us?” sam asked opening another can of cola

“Oh I've never played pool,” you say laughing awkwardly. the blonde’s eyes light up in a way you cant read. 

” I could teach you, I'm sure you'd pick it up fast ”he offers 

 ”No it's fine you and Sebastian should keep playing,” you say sipping on a can of soda that the blonde had handed you earlier in the night. Sam walks over to you grabbing your hands calloused from the hours of farm work and traveling through the mines in his hands.

 ”Come on ill show you, I insist” he smiles brightly at you pulling you towards the pool table. Abagail and Sebastian stood on the other side of the pool table looking at the two of you with a knowing look in their eyes. 

"You think he'll say something to her tonight," Sebastian says to Abigail taking a sip from the can in his hands.

"I mean if he doesn't he owes me, I've been trying to tell Sam they like him back," Abagail whispers back to the raven.

 Both you and sam hadn't been doing a good job and hiding the fact you liked each other. The whole town pretty much knew but the two of you didn't even notice the signs in each other. 

Sam moved his hands over yours to show you how to hold the pool stick.

”Your gonna hit the white ball,” he whispered in your ear. 

his body was against yours as the both of you were bent over adjusting your hand placements on the pole his hands over yours on the edge of the table sam move your hands back showing you how to hit the ball. following his movements, the loud sound of the white ball hitting a purple and white striped ball echoed threw the room.

“See knew you could do it,” he whispers in your ear a smile evident in his voice

your face felt hot despite the fact that you hadn't been drinking. Sam awkwardly clears his voice standing up and stepping away. 

“Why don't you try on your own” he offers as you move around the table to get to the other side. remembering how Sam's hands had felt against yours as he had helped you hit the ball almost getting another striped ball in a hole.

 ”See you're a natural why don't you play Seb, play I'll offer my expert advice if you need it” he chuckled 

you still didn't end up winning against Sebastian he's really good at pool, but sam had offered to walk you home.

“I'm glad you came out tonight,” sam says hands in his pockets as the two of you walk threw town in the dead of the night.

“Really? I had fun, thanks for showing me how to play pool tonight,” you say avoiding eye contact with the bubbly blonde.

there was a tension in the air between the two of you something both of you just can't seem to admit to.

“Of course, that's what friends are for,” sam says the cold fall air having made his cheeks flush. the walk continued with small chatter. as the two of you came up to your home you could tell same was nervous about something

“Uh hey you okay”

Sam jumps lightly at your words.

“Oh yeah, I just have a lot going on up here ya know,” he said pointing to his head chuckling softly

“Wanna share what's going on up there,” you say hands shoved in your pockets

“Okay if I tell you, you gotta promise not to laugh at me,” he says looking at you softly

“okay I promise” you smile at the blonde

“I've had a crush on you. Like a bad one, like for months .” he chuckled not looking at you.

The words caused you to pause in your tracks.

“You like me” you repeated quietly.

You had come to terms with your feeling about the blonde a while ago and you tried to accept your feelings wouldn't be mutual but here you are standing here in front of the bus stop with the blonde who just confessed that he had a crush on you.

“Uh yeah, I was hoping to ask you on a date for Sunday?” Sam's face was illuminated by the moonlight not doing much to hide his red face as he stood in front of you

“YEAH! I mean yes I would like to go on a date with you sam” you say excitedly.

“Great I'll see you Sunday,” he says with a smile and before you could continue to your farm you kiss his warm cheek, and then softly peck his lips. pulling back you give him a smile as you walk into the night.

#sam x reader #sdv sam x reader #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv x farmer #xreader #x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew fanfic

[nectardaddy]

Thirteen Years [Porco Galliard x reader] 1

** This story will involve some level of spoilers, please proceed with caution. Also a lot of this story involves adult scenarios (i.e.: war, blood, gore, death, etc...) Despite this, I will try my best to balance out dark themes with more soft, wholesome ones. Please enjoy!

NOTE: this story is on Wattpad as well I AM THE AUTHOR

-- 

Prologue Seven years ago

Things were scattered across the wooden floor in a frenzy: cups, plates, cutlery, papers, chairs, all laid on the floor, some pieces broken and cracked. His older sibling tried to stop the boy's rampage; however, you stayed put and watched. Porco's pale knuckles were bloody and bruised from throwing and hitting everything in sight. All the young boy could see at the moment was red. You watched as his older brother finally got hold of him, grabbing him in a hug and not letting go. Porco struggled against it, his fit of rage unending from the yellow armband that should've been red. You couldn't seem to move as you watched the scene in front of you unfold; Porco's thrashing around, eagerly trying to escape his brother's grip, seemed to have no end in sight. 

"It's not fair!" He screamed, "Reiner never deserved the Armor and everyone knows it!" The young boy's voice cracked at the end, holding back tears as he continued to yell. Grey eyes locked with yours as he struggled against his brother - the pain was evident. Marcel tried to ease his brother's anger; telling him it was alright, he could live a longer life, and he would still be an honorary Marleyan, but the blonde wouldn't listen. He was so young and full of hope, but it was stripped away from him when he was forced to keep the yellow arm band. Forced to remain a candidate. 

"Let him go," you mumbled, catching Marcel's attention. But he ignored you, his brother was still in no state to be released. "I said let him go, Marcel," you spoke firmly. Your words held a certain authority that frightened him, and he hesitantly let his younger brother go. But the blonde's rage wasn't over, his eyes flickered to his brother who took a step back from him. His brother who now had a red armband, just like the five other candidates - except him. His pale hands met with his brother's chest and shoved him, Marcel being pushed into the table. Finally, you took a step forward, and another, until you were in front of the younger brother who was staring down the eldest. 

You wrapped your arms around the male, embracing him. It wasn't harsh, nor rough, you held him gently, hugging him. You felt the boy's body suddenly tense from your action, he was taken back. But this was the final crack in the dam that held back his tears. He didn't reciprocate your embrace, but he welcomed it as hot tears began to roll down his cheeks. A small sob racked his body before he leaned his head on your shoulder, the sleeve of your shirt becoming damp. You held him a bit tighter as he cried, he had never shown this amount of emotion in front of you, or anyone, before. You stayed silent, as did his brother, and let the boy cry out his pent up emotions. "I have to spend the next thirteen years alone. . ." he cried. 

His words made you pull away, the suddenness of it taking him by surprise. His eyes were red and his cheeks wet with tears as he looked at you. "You have me," you spoke quietly, "just because I wasn't a candidate doesn't make me any less of your friend. I'll still be here." 

-- 

1 Present Day 

The red armband he wore was in stark contrast to your own gray one as you walked side by side. The street was dirty and unkept, having to step over litter every now and then. The buildings you passed were the same, they were old and run down. The internment zone was nothing like the outside; however, you couldn't remember how beautiful the outside was. The only time you saw the world beyond the gates was at six years old; the Warrior program allowed Eldian children the chance of inheriting the power of the Titans - you however did not make the cut. Long days of running, fighting, and training resulted only in returning back home, not a candidate and not an honorary Marleyan. 

But the young man beside you was different in all regard, he was a Warrior, an honorary Marleyan, he held the power of the Jaw Titan. You held nothing at all, only the misery of forever being second-class. But the male beside you felt nothing but grief, despite getting what he had always wanted. The death of his brother made him realize just how cruel the world was, and he dreaded the day that he had to see the memories of the girl before him devour his older sibling. 

"I'm glad they're giving you a small break from training, I never really see you anymore," you stated and he was pulled from his thoughts. Your statement held truth, he rarely saw his friends and family in the internment zone. He was constantly surrounded by Marleyan soldiers or the other Warriors as he trained, learning to make the power of the Jaw his own. He no longer had the luxury of fooling around like he used to. He no longer had the time to be in your company, something he learned to enjoy over the years before.

"It's good to see you again, (Y/n)," his words were soft in contrast to his appearance. The male held a standoffish aura around him, his face blank, and his hands in his pockets. "How long has it been, exactly?" He asked, his grey eyes now flicking to you.

"Around two months," your quick reply took him by surprise. He turned his gaze to the path in front of him, leading no where in particular. He let a hum pass his lips as he kept walking. He didn't know it had been that long. He trained every day and rarely ever could tell what day it was anymore, he truly didn't now that many days had passed. He knew you missed him, a part of him missed you as well. You were the only one capable of sticking around all these years, and he had grown accustomed to seeing you regularly.

The time spent apart wore on him, even though it was a short time, so much had happened within the two months. He didn't know what to say, what to talk about, or how to act. Thoughts that were drilled into him him from the brass overwhelmed the thoughts of small talk and friendship. "How are you doing?" His words didn't hold the same confidence as before, he felt like a stranger to you.

"I could ask the same to you, Pock," you sighed. His nickname brought back memories he had forgotten, or placed in the back of his mind. The flood of memories played out in his mind and he stayed silent, letting his thoughts run wild. You had first heard the nickname from Marcel, hearing him tease his brother until the name slipped. You copied Marcel, earning a glare and a curt "shut up," from Porco. From then on the name stuck with you.

"I'm just tired," he spoke and kicked a small rock in front of him. Despite the truth in his statement, fatigue wasn't the only thing troubling him. He felt lost. He didn't quite grasp how to separate his "job" from his home, something his fellow Warriors seemed to understand. The drastic change in lifestyle was something he hadn't settled with; training as a candidate was much different than training as a Titan. As a candidate, he had more time at home - especially in the years of not being selected - but now he barely saw his home. He'd come home late, or not at all, then be up again in the early hours of the morning. He had forgotten how to relax.

"So much has happened in such a short time, I'm just trying to keep up," he admitted. "This is a well needed break." He sighed at his own words, he hoped to feel one with himself again after the few days he had off.

"A well deserved break as well," you added. "You look exhausted," you commented on his state. His eyes were dark and tired, his hair wasn't as pristine as usual, and his uniform looked slightly disheveled. He didn't look as put together as usual and it worried you. "They're working you too hard." 

"You might be right, but they have every reason to. There are rumors of going to war with the Mid-East Alliance, and we can't afford to be down another Titan, we've already lost two." The young man was no longer as cheerful as he once was, though he never had a bubbly personality, he was able to find joy in things but now that seemed to be forgotten. The rumors of war terrified you, you were at the age to be selected to fight - Eldians were more than expendable and the Marleyans would use every last one if they had to. 

Although the idea scared you, you pushed it to the back of your mind, "try not to think about that right now. It'll only wear on you more, just try to make the most of your time off." You spoke with a soft smile and looked over to him, trying to ease the war inside of him. "Since you finally have the time, we should look at the stars like we did when we were kids. Try not to lose the ladder this time though," you joked, bringing up past memories. 

The memory made his lips pull into a small smile. He and his brother would climb to the roof of their small house every night to look at the stars; Marcel was the one who taught him the constellations. You soon joined their nightly ritual, Marcel inviting you; imagining you climbing up the ladder to the roof every night without fail made him happy. The memory you had spoken of would make him laugh if he were by himself, his own idiocy getting the best of him. 

It was late at night and you all had decided to get some rest. Porco decided he would go down first, not yet learning the importance of patience with his peers. His foot slipped on the top rung and he pulled himself back onto the roof before the ladder clattered the ground. 

"What was that? Did you get scared, Pock?" His brother teased, seeing his younger brother's wide eyes. The eldest walked over to the edge of the roof where the youngest was and looked down, "Porco! You didn't!" He yelled as he looked down at the ladder that now rested on the ground. 

"Shut up Marcel! I didn't mean to!" He yelled back. The yelling peaked your interest and you joined the boys on the edge and looked down. You couldn't help but laugh at the situation, even if it meant you were stuck. "Stop laughing! It's not funny, you idiot!" 

But you didn't, his outburst only made you giggle more. "I thought you'd both be smarter than this, being Warrior candidates and all." You commented, earning a huff from the brothers. "Someone can pick it up in the morning. It's warm tonight, we won't die up here or anything." 

"You will never let go of that will you?" He asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer. "Hell, I might do it again for old times sake," he spoke with a smile. This was what he missed in the two months of training: talking to you and joking around. He felt like this was the rhythm he was supposed to be in, but he was still a few beats off. 

You chuckled, "I don't think people will be as willing to help. When we were kids it was endearing and cute, but we're older now, they might just think we're out right stupid." You looked over to him and sighed silently; this was the Porco you earnestly wished to see again. You missed the sentimental young man, not the one you were met with before. The one you met today was cold and beaten, tired and bruised; it made your heart ache. You were glad to see a piece of himself was still there under the rough exterior. 

"Especially if Zeke is the one the get the ladder again," he groaned.

The three of you grabbed onto the edge of the roof and leaned over just enough to peer down. It was the early hours of the morning, and the only ones awake would be those in the Warrior program. You patiently waited for the young Yaeger boy to turn the corner and appear on the path that the Galliard family lived on. Zeke took the path every day to join with both Galliard brothers in the morning on the walk to the gate; today was no different. 

"There he is!" You yelled and pointed to the blonde with glasses who had turned the corner. 

"Well it took you long enough didn't it!" Porco yelled to the young boy on the ground. Confusion was written on the boy's face as he looked around to see where the voice came from, but was met with no one on the ground. "Up here!" The glasses clad male finally looked up and cocked his head, seeing all three of you on the roof. He looked back down to see the ladder on the ground and finally pieced together why his comrades were up there. The young man burst into a fit of laughter upon looking back up.  

"Please! Please tell me you're stuck!" In between laughs, "this is too good, I'm telling everyone about this!" 

"Can you please just prop the ladder up Zeke? We don't want to be late," the eldest brother explained. In contrast, Porco sat with his arms crossed and huffed at the laughter from below. 

"Who got you stuck?" He asked, now holding his stomach from giggling and laughing. "Wait, wait! Lemme' guess! It was definitely Pock, wasn't it?" 

"Don't call me that, halfwit! Get the damn ladder so we can go!" Porco yelled.

His outburst only made Zeke laugh harder, "what's the magic word, Galliard?" 

"The magic word is get the ladder before I break your arm!" 

You laughed at the memory, "then let's not drop the ladder this time then." Your laughter slowly stopped before you looked to him. "I'll see you tonight then on the roof?" You asked, hoping to get the answer you wanted. You wanted to see him more, to speak with him, to spend time with him again. You couldn't quite understand it, but you wanted to be in his presence. Unbeknownst to you, he felt similarly. A part of him couldn't let the thought of you go, you were always there in the back of his mind. 

"Yeah, I'll see you then," he agreed. He needed the familiarity again, his life changed so suddenly and all he wanted around him where things he knew well and could understand. You were one of them. Other than his parents, you were the one that felt most like home. Not a Warrior, not a candidate, you were simply Eldian - what he needed. 

#porco galliard #aot porco #aot #attack on titan #porco x reader #snk #shingeki no kyojin