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talesmaniac89 · 1 year

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Charity Heist 6 - aka. Trapped in the Closet

A Supernatural Heist AU - Masterlist

Pairing: Hitter!Dean x Thief!Reader

Summary: The Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency is the best group of con artists in the world. But even though Y/N can crack safes, scale buildings and infiltrate even the most secure locations, she still can't find a way to deal with her all consuming feelings for the group's greek god of a hitter; Dean Winchester. How will she handle their next big heist, when she's forced to get up close and personal with the man of her dreams?

Warnings: Idiots in love, smutty thoughts, a lot of swearing and a ton of bad jokes.

Watch the trailer here

A/N: This story is 50% jokes and 50% dirty thoughts. No deep angst, just fun and action! Inspired by the series Leverage.

Y/N = Your Name

Start Here - Last - Next

You walked upstairs with the practiced calm confidence of someone who had pretended to belong in spaces they truly didn’t on multiple occasions. Your steps measured and your posture relaxed as you easily disappeared up and out of view of the partygoers with Dean following right behind you.

Luckily, the hallway on the second floor was empty of lingering mobsters or hired guns. Though you knew from experience that your luck could change at any point in time. Especially if you considered how the blueprints for the second floor had been less than complete, and how Sam wasn’t available to help with any other cameras other than those by the stairwell.

The second floor was the living quarters of the mobster and his family and, unlike the heavily surveillanced ground floor, there were no cameras up there according to Charlie and Sam’s earlier scans of the property. Which made sense...

Even mobsters valued their privacy.

If someone was lying in wait in one of the rooms, or if you needed a quick exit, your pretty much perfect plan would explode in your pretty, made up faces, taking with it covers and quite possibly lives.

Fuck…

That was why you didn’t like the mobster and organized crime types. They were just too reliant on bullets, knives and all other kinds of lethal toys. You preferred your toys to be of the more get-out-quick variety. Or at least of the restrain and question type. Since, hell, those had multiple possible uses… In- and outside of a heist.

Clearing your mind and refocusing on the hallway in front of you, you frowned. The hallway was deceptively long. Unless there was some sort of clue in the blueprints, you’d definitely have trouble finding the room you needed. That, and long hallways never made for good escape routes. Left you too open with only one way to go. Bullets traveled in straight paths, so you preferred corners or curves over minimalistic hallway designs.

Still, if downstairs could have bought you an island, upstairs seemed to promise more. The paintings that lined the hallway all looked real and, hell, from what you could tell at a glance, they were most likely worth a small country. Complete with an army to defend your borders. All housed, fed and dressed in a specially made “Black-ops by Gucci”-line designed just for you.

Looking behind you at Dean you caught the former soldier looking slightly lost in thought. His eyes seemingly resting on you, yet somewhat dazed. Lifting an eyebrow you turned to face him, your eyes on him seemingly snapping him out of his little reprieve quickly enough. Leaving the man looking slightly flustered, which in turn easily brought a smile to your lips, since this was the same man that could withstand torture and incapacitate groups of bad guys with nothing more than his hands and whatever he could find lying around.

Having him lost in thought over what was probably the immense treasure chamber of the hallway was amusing, having his eyes rest on you when he did so, even better. Even if he didn’t actually see you. Or at least didn’t see more than an asset with ninja skills and sticky fingers. Which in your own mind was a completely unfair view of your impressive resume. Your fingers could do much more than swipe whatever needed stealing if they were permitted to do so.

So, so much more.

Mentally clearing your throat you hid your dirty thoughts behind a veil of professionality as it now was Dean’s turn to smirk at your vacant look. Rolling your eyes at him you kept your mouth shut, unwilling to risk being heard by anyone from downstairs or in any of the rooms. Choosing instead to point in the direction of the closest room. You needed to find somewhere with four walls to openly ask Sam for some outside help and direction.

Dean’s smirk easily fell away as the hard as nails soldier came back and he nodded. Quickly taking up a more or less protective stance, which had you fighting the urge to roll your eyes again, as you reached for the doorknob and opened the door between one breath and the next. Empty.

Served him right for trying to show off.

Slipping into the room you pulled Dean along with you before gently closing the door. Your eyes firmly locked on the door and Dean as you held your breath listening for any sounds seeping in from the outside. Seemed the room was secure enough for you to talk. Not even the steady sounds of the party downstairs could be heard through the heavy wooden door.

“Any idea where we should start searching or are we out past the ‘here there be monsters’ part of the map again?” You asked Sam as soon as you were sure the coast was clear. Taking the more or less anticipated break in the conversation as Sam perused the blueprints as a chance to check the darkened room you were in. No lights, you couldn’t risk it, and with a quick look around the room you knew for certain you didn’t need to.

A bedroom.

What was it your dirty mind had told you on your way up the stairs? Upstairs meant bedrooms… Shit, and just as you’d managed to make yourself act professional again.

It was official; you were the butt of someone’s karmic joke.

Ignoring the big bed that acted as the centerpoint of the room you still allowed yourself a quick look around. Looked like a spare bedroom, or maybe a place for the guards to take quick power naps. The safe, or anything useful, was unlikely to be in there. Though you could see yourself finding several uses for that bed…

Damn it! You were a lost cause. If you were Alice, your rabbit hole would be pimped out like a porn set.

Focus.

Luckily, Sam’s voice in your ear brought you right back into work mode as he finally spoke up from where he’d been studying the less than perfect blueprints of the second floor.

“It’s hard to tell, but there are three rooms that seem interesting,” Sam said as you refocused your attention on the door while Dean did a quick check of the room. Your eyes and ears were so focused on the task at hand that you easily missed the way Dean wet his lip as he looked from you to the bed, indulging in thoughts not so different from yours.

“Explain them to me,” You said, closing your eyes to allow your mind's eye to paint the rooms inside your eyelids for you as Dean came back to watch the door and let you do your thing. Or like Charlie liked to think of it as: entering your Sherlock-esque mind palace. Though it was really only that you found it easier to think without all the visual distractions around you. Like the infuriatingly gorgeous soldier that was currently watching the door for you.

“First room seems pretty simple, but bigger, has a smaller room connected to it and what looks like reinforced walls... Second room is very small, I’d say just a bit bigger than a broom closet, except there is no clear entrance and again the walls are thicker. Space also seems to have its own supply of electricity and extra air vents,” Sam said, giving you all of the minor details he had to work with. Which in this case luckily was more than enough when someone with as keen an eye as Sam looked at it.

“And the third room?” You asked when you decided Sam had given you more than enough time to take in the information.

“Seems more normal than the others, large, normal walls, except for one that is slightly thicker. Only one door in, and facing the back of the house,” Sam said, easily adding lines to the images you were painting in your head.

Great, you had it. At least… You thought you had it.

“I chose door number three Monty,” You said with a grin as you opened your eyes and were met with Dean’s sharp ones. The big guy’s confident smile letting you know he’d followed your train of thought. Which was a damned miracle, considering yours was often more like a barely controlled train wreck than an actual valid commuter option.

“You sure? Door number two seems pretty good too,” Sam asked, yet he still seemed ready to build the plan based on your chosen door and the room beyond it if you stood by your choice. The question was more like that a game show host would ask to see if the contestant would change his or her mind.

“Yeah, it’s not gonna be in the bedroom or the panic room. It has to be in the last room,” You said with a shrug as you put your ear against the wall, frowning when you realized you couldn’t hear what was happening on the other side through the thick wooden doors even with the shell of your ear solidly against it.

Damn those rich people and their expensive, sturdy wood.

“How did…” Sam started from your ear as you motioned to Dean to give you the little toy Charlie had created for your birthday. A small handheld device that allowed you to interpret the vibrations through any wall, even reinforced steel ones.

“First room is large with all the walls reinforced and what’s most likely an attached bathroom, makes sense that it’s a bedroom. He’s a mob boss, the only time he’s vulnerable is when he’s sleeping,” Dean’s explanation cut off Sam’s question while you got to work attaching the little pads on your device to the door to listen through it.

Sure, you knew if you both gave the big guy a few more minutes he would’ve reached the same conclusion, but every second counted. And it wasn’t often you were one mental step ahead of the man.

Which meant you took every chance you got to brag and one-up him.

“Second is tiny, with its own supplies of electricity and air; clearly a panic room. Mob bosses fear for their lives on a daily basis. So, that leaves door number three, with only one slightly thicker wall and facing the back of the property. Hardest to get to,” You finished up, taking over the explanation with a cocky smirk that had Dean rolling his eyes. and probably had the younger Winchester rolling his as well, since the smirk was practically audible. Sticking your tongue out at Dean you pushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear, before putting the listening device to your ear to check if the coast was clear on the other side of the door.

“I guess that’s why we invited you to join us,” Sam said, seeming almost proud of your little display as you hid your own little smile at the compliment. When anyone else said something like that it wasn’t usually a compliment, considering your former invitations had been little more than kidnapping. But when it came from either of the three men who had asked you to join their group of the best in the world at criminal shenanigans?

Yeah, then it was a compliment.

“What? It wasn’t my winning personality and brilliant jokes? For shame Sammy,” You quipped back, earning a chuckle from Dean as you unfastened the cables and handed the little device back to him with a grin.

“Coast is clear,”

“Ok, let’s get this over and done with and blow this joint before they notice something’s wrong,” Dean’s voice was low, and all hints at earlier laughter gone as he easily flanked you. Getting ready to act if someone had inexplicably fooled the listening device, while you opened the door as gently as possible.

“Take it away Sam,” You whispered as you slipped out of the bedroom with ease. Letting Sam guide you towards door number three and what you hoped to find hidden within its walls.

Or at least within the one slightly thicker wall, at the back of the house.

---

Door number three opened up to an office lounge space with a very 40s organized crime boss style decor. And boy, did you hit the jackpot. The room was not only full of more of that expensive home decor that definitely wasn’t bought at IKEA, but the files not locked away in any safes were more than enough to control a few very influential people.

Though, as Sam had unfortunately told you, several times before the party, you couldn’t add them, or any other trinkets, to your personal treasure pile. You had to be fast. And that meant you had no time to waste looking through the papers on the desk.

The actual safe however, wasn’t in as plain a sight as everything else. And while Dean checked the area surrounding the pool table, you kept looking at the wall that according to Sam was thicker than the others. Leaning up against the big, expensive mahogany desk as you looked for any hints of something being out of place.

“I bet I could beat you at pool,” Dean mused as you caught him moving just out of the corner of your eye and let his fingers run across the table’s edge. His sentence left hanging like that for a second as he bent down and placed one of Charlie’s nearly undetectable listening devices there.

“We should have a game sometime,” He added as he stood back up before moving to the next spot based on Sam’s earlier orders while you’d carefully traversed the hallway.

“You know I don’t do bets Dean. Money is more valuable to me in my pocket than in yours,” You huffed as you pushed yourself away from the table to study the portraits closer, looking for a seam in the wall or even one of those idiotic cliched wall safes that unfortunately a stupid amount of people chose to have.

“Wouldn’t need to be for money,” Dean said, his tone gaining that somewhat teasing edge you’d heard the flirt take with women in clubs and at soirees during cases. Not that knowing he did that to all the girls stopped you from getting a little weak at the knees.

“Clothes… Clothes could work too,”

“Sure Winchester, just get us out of here alive and I’ll do my utmost to leave you standing in the closest hole in the wall joint in nothing but your tighty whities,” You chuckled, using your wit as a shield to deflect the flirty tone over Sam’s groan.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’m game if you are,” Dean grinned as he came closer to where you were standing. His hand had just reached out and opened one of the closets in the room when Sam and you both spoke at the same time.

“I got it, the safe…” You started in triumph, reaching for the easily missable thread low in the wallpaper before Sam’s words snapped you out of it.

“Guys, you’ve got company!” The urgency in his voice could only mean someone was coming upstairs. If the ‘guys’ he’d been referring to were your team members downstairs, his voice wouldn’t have had that panicked lilt. You’d planned for that.

The unplanned for, that was Sam’s true phobia. Well.. That and clowns. But you doubted any clowns had been invited to a party as fancy as this one… Other than Crowley that was.

“They’re headed upstairs, and I’d bet they’re coming your way,” There was a joke about strip heist betting in there somewhere, but you didn’t have time for it. Not if you wanted to avoid bullet holes or cement shoes.

“Do we have time to get out and into another room?” Dean asked, hand still on the closet door as he sized up the room. Green eyes hardened as he prepared to take on anyone who came through the office door. Even if it would blow your cover.

Dean’s role as a hitter in your little ragtag group meant he always jumped into the fray. Acting like a human shield to get the rest of you out of whatever hairy situation you’d gotten yourself into. Even if you didn’t just want him to protect you.

“No, the damned hallway is too straight. You won’t make it without being spotted,” Sam shot down the suggestion before the words even fully left the weapon specialist as you looked around the room. You’d have to forget about the safe for now, your main priority had to be getting out of the room alive. There was no way in hell you’d let yourself die in a room that looked like a movie set for a generic 1940s gangster flick.

Ewww.

“Windows are a no-go too, I saw guards outside back when we were scouting downstairs,” You whispered as you looked away from the thick curtains. What you needed wasn’t an exit. There were no easy ways out of the room; even access to the vents would take some pre-planning… No, what you needed was in the room, and with a bit of luck it would be enough.

“We need to hide,”

“Then do it now, they’re upstairs, I’ve lost visual,” Sam sounded increasingly worried from across the comms. His words mixed with the whispered worries of your other teammates as you crossed the room quickly over to Dean. Keeping your steps light and soundless even in your rush to stay safe.

Grabbing a hold of Dean’s hand you pulled the man with you and into your hiding place. The closet door closed with a soft click and hid you in the small space, just as the door to the office once more opened and invited the enemy inside.

---

The closet was smaller than you had anticipated it to be, especially with the size of the rest of the damned place. There was barely enough space for both Dean and you to fit. Which left you plastered against Dean’s hard chest with his hands on your shoulders to keep you up and stop you from falling out and into the laps of the armed mafia on the other side or the door.

You were officially trapped in the closet.

But unlike the guns and ominous music of the thriller movie cliche, it felt more like the beginning of a poorly scripted erotica novel. Your body was heating up dangerously quickly from the close proximity of the man you shared the space with. Dean’s hands on your shoulders paired with the delicious feeling of his body against yours was damned near sinful.

It was like you were transferred into a high school flick and this was 7 seconds in heaven. If you forgot the fact that instead of rowdy teeangers, the people on the other side of the door were armed mafia… Didn’t stop your libido though. The damned thing had a mind of its own.

The world’s most useless superpower.

Dean’s fingers were electrifying on your bare shoulders and his arms seemed so damned strong. Fuck, this would have probably been good fodder for your imagination, but at the moment you were supposed to be keeping your mind clear. And the closeness of a certain Winchester made that damned near impossible.

You could feel his muscles working under the thin layers of clothing that separated you. Hear the breaths he tried to keep low and controlled. And smell the spiced leather scent of him off of his neck as you were forced to almost lean your head on his shoulder to stay hidden in the small office closet.

This wasn’t good. You’d barely been able to keep on your best behavior with Dean acting as your date all night, and the sudden forced closeness wasn’t helping. It was like teasing a ravenous beast with a five course meal.

You’d tried to keep your mind on the danger you were in, instead of the feel of Dean against you. Forcing your mind to focus on listening to the more or less cryptic conversation of the mobsters outside the closet door. Yet, as Dean’s thumbs started drawing circles on your bare shoulders, your hearing had short circuited together with the rest of your brain. The feel of his fingers, drawing patterns on your bare flesh, pulled your attention straight back to the man you were pressed up against.

His eyes weren’t on the door behind your back. No, they were on you. And even in the limited light that seeped in through the cracks from the now lit up office you could see the heat building in them. The barely contained something in his eyes causing your body to automatically burn hot. As if he was the ember to your dry branches and together you were a fucking forest fire.

Destructive, searing and out of control.

Catching your eye, Dean let his teeth graze his lip, using his tongue to soothe their path. Before his hands slid down from your shoulders to your arms and he pulled you, if such a thing was even possible, even closer to him. Allowing you to feel every inch of his trained body against you. All hard and soft in all the right places, and...

God, you wanted to kiss the bastard.

Unable to rein yourself back in, you rolled your hips against him. Feeling the undeniable bulge pressed against your hip that meant he shared, if nothing else, some of your sexual attraction. The feel of him almost made you whimper as you bit your lip to keep the sound in and looked up at the man who still held you against him by your bare upper arms. Letting your teeth release your lip, you replaced them with a flash of pink. Your tongue wet your lips in anticipation as you hoped, prayed, that, even with everything that was going down outside the door, the soldier would screw protocol and just fucking kiss you. You needed it, like you needed air.

Dean Winchester was fucking addicting. A damned drug you sure as hell wouldn’t mind indulging in at that exact moment. Even if it could end up being the last bad decision you ever made.

Catching your non-verbal cue, green eyes dipping to your lips, Dean smirked. But, unlike his usual ‘I told you so’-smirks, this one hinted at the weapon’s specialist finding pleasure in the situation. Liking the fact that he was in control, not only of what was happening, but of you and your lust. He enjoyed watching you squirm, and fuck if that didn’t just turn you on even more.

Swallowing the need to beg you let your eyes do it for you. Still acutely aware that the situation didn’t really lend room for verbal displays of need. Hell, you knew that this whole damned thing was most likely just fueled by adrenaline, not hearts, yet you couldn’t pull away. You couldn’t help but want him.

So, you just held your breath. Watching, as if mesmerized, as Dean wet his lips and almost painfully slowly lowered his head until his full lips were nearly touching yours. So close, yet so frustratingly far away from where you wanted them. You wanted to lean in, needing to taste him and break this strange, sexual tension.

Yet, before you could even move an inch closer Sam was in your ear again.

“Ok, they seem to be back downstairs, it’s safe… For now,” Sam’s voice broke through the white noise that had filled your head once your libido took over.

Hell, you hadn’t even noticed the mobsters leaving the office. You were just that focused on Dean. The unwelcome interruption left you nearly cursing the younger Winchester. Sure, he had no camera’s upstairs, so it wasn’t his fault but still… You’d been so fucking close. Why couldn’t he have waited just one more minute?

Still, it meant you could finally get out of the claustrophobic closet and breathe again.

Dean however didn’t seem to share your sentiment. His hands still safely around your upper arms, locking you in place as he spoke, still so fucking close to kissing you.

“Damn it Sammy,” Dean’s groan was barely a whisper, his breath hot against your lips, yet you knew Sam heard him well enough. Still, though you didn’t like the idea of leaving those damned soft lips unkissed, you knew it was probably for the best. Sammy had saved you, though it felt very much like the opposite at that very moment.

It was a high stakes situation, and the adrenaline…

To people in your line of not-so-legal work it was often the best aphrodisiac.

That rush of danger had a nasty tendency of pulling bodies together through pure stupidity and strained nerves instead of lavender coloured emotions. Especially in near death situations where stupidity and instinct easily triumphed over logical thinking. And you’d rather not be a one night stand.

‘Better to have loved and lost’ was a stupid fucking saying made by people who wasn’t as achingly familiar with loss as you were.

Dean had probably reacted to the closeness and the rush of danger, just as much as you’d reacted to the rush of him. So, though part of you still wanted to curse Sam, an increasingly large part of you realized the younger Winchester probably saved you from a mistake you couldn’t turn back from.

Dean Winchester, in any fashion that wasn’t as your coworker and literal partner in crime, was best kept in your dirty thoughts and imaginative daydreams.

“No choice, I know you didn’t get to finish up the search upstairs, but we need to get the hell outta dodge,” Sam shot back at his older brother. Clearly misinterpreting Dean’s words and what the older hunter had hoped to finish.

Looking away from Dean you took a step back. The job always came first. With a deep breath and some less than exciting thoughts about math, you turned awkwardly in the limited space. Pushing the door open as he let go of you to let you step out of your hiding spot. Leaving the memories of the almost kiss buried in the closet, you forced our mind to refocus on the heist.

Your eyes focused on the barely-there seam in the wall that hid the safe. Just to keep your eyes off of Dean’s. Though you could feel the dark green burning into your bare back. You had the safe location, even if you would have preferred to check out what type of setup it was before leaving. Still, with your mind a muddled mess from the heat of Dean’s body pressed against yours, you feared you wouldn’t be able to focus on safe types anyway.

Hell, focusing on anything was near impossible. At least past your desperate attempts at pretending that Dean’s touch wasn’t burned into your skin. Something that came much easier as Charlie’s slightly panicked voice came in over the ear piece.

“It’s a social situation guys. I repeat… A social situation. I talk to computers, not people. Cas, someone, rescue me,” Your best friend hissed the words from somewhere on the ground floor. Sounding increasingly panicked, though you knew she was trying her hardest to hide it. The mental image easily teased a chuckle out of both Sam and you, though Dean stayed silent behind you.

“Alright, Castiel, you go rescue Charlie. Once you have her, follow the plan and get out. (Y/N), Dean; I’ll walk you through the upstairs part and keep an eye on the ground floor cameras for you to get back down. Then we follow the plan. Easy exit. No big goodbyes,” Sam said as you walked towards the door without looking back at the still silent Dean, though you could feel his eyes on you. Red hot embers ghosting down the length of your spine and making your breath stick in your throat. Forcing you to swallow, hard, to keep some semblance of your professionalism in place.

Your heart wasn’t reinforced anywhere near as well as the panic room in the damned mafia fortress, and you were unsure if you could handle whatever you saw in those green eyes if you were to turn around. So, instead you took the coward’s way out by asking Sam possibly the most obvious question you could.

“So what’s next?” You asked as you reached the door. Stopping only to straighten out your appearance in the mirror next to it and use your thumb to correct the lipstick you had smudged with your teeth and tongue. Before lifting the same trembling hand further to push a loose strand of your updo behind your ear.

“Next… Next we take ‘em down,”

Start Here - Last - Next

Charity Heist: @foxyjwls007 @seppys-return-to-madness @stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @twinkleinadiamondsky @tmb510 @mimaria420

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70 @djs8891

Forever tags will be added as reblog.

#dean winchester fic #au!spn #dean au #au!dean winchester #tales89writes #hitter!dean #thief!reader #supernatural heist au #supernatural leverage au #spn heist au #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester heist au #mercenary!dean winchester

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cadmuslabs777 · 6 months

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I started enjoying the idea of a modern ofmd au, but it has to involve illegal stuff to match the tone of the show. So I've been thinking maybe Stede gets bored of his rich life and decides to fake his death to the world (except for Mary and the kids) and opens up a bar that's a bit too fancy to be sketchy, but he insists to his team of fail criminals that he's hired that they are indeed a mafia group even though they're not really doing anything besides selling weed on the side and somehow they keep getting away from being arrested in the most ridiculous and miraculous ways. That's until they are having a movie night (because they need to bond, according to Stede, since mafia is like a family!!) and someone (Lucius, probably) jokingly suggest they hire Mary to start painting famous paintings or making new ones pretending to be lost works from famous artists and Stede is like oh my god that's brilliant that's it and they start to slowly get deeper into the dark market until they are noticed by the dreaded Blackbeard, the most notorious criminal in the business. He kidnapps Stede to show him who's the boss, but ends up falling in love with this sweet dumbass.

I'm thinking some other details about who does what in the crew but this is mostly it tbh.

#i will never write this so if anyone wants to take it i'd love to read it lmao #if anyone knows of a fic like this i also appreciate recommendations #ofmd #our flag means death

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spaciebabie · 8 months

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More ligit contribution now:

unedited and may not be the best quality lol:

Being a make-up artist had always been your calling. You knew the moment you got into your mother's secret stash at four years old.

She was horrified of course. And learned to keep her things better hidden so you couldn't get your grubby little hands on it. A fate she could stall for ten years max afterword, until you turned fourteen and got even more determined.

Now, after finally getting started in the career you've dreamed of, it was still the dream come true like you hoped.

The job you were hired for on set wasn't exactly strictly make up oriented, you helped with your fair share of costume sets and pieces, some lasting an entire scene thanks to you.

With this, came yet another addition you never expected.

William.

He was his fair share older than you but it didn't stop you two from getting along well. He'd bring you your usual coffee when the crew was needed for filming early in the morning.

He was nice. Great with the kids. It helped when they weren't filming.

And… a little attractive… you'd never say that part out loud but you couldn't deny it.

It wouldn't be a terrible confession compared to what you really believed.

I mean… you were always the weird kid with odd obsessions. You scared away dates with some of them later in life.

But once William donned the springtrap suit. You brushed the textures on his face before he put the mask on. You knew this was a new low. A… a new whatever this is.

You knew William's voice was deep but you suppose you never truly noticed it until he "became" Springtrap. You almost didn't want to believe the heat rushing to your cheeks the first time you saw him like this. His chuckle at your shock is seared into your brain and it'll most likely never leave.

The make up was convincing too. The other artists you worked with perfected it to actually look similar to decaying flesh. His eyes stood out. Anyone else would find it creepy. And yet you found it oddly entrancing.

After that you couldn't think about William the same. Springtrap the same. Not without a bright flush coming to your face.

You managed to keep the secret well enough.

Well… you thought you did

An emergency repair of Springtrap's costume needed you and the other team members weren't available. Just Springtrap and you were left in the dressing room outside of the set.

It took some trial and error before repairing the suit well enough for filming to continue. But he… he just had to compliment your skill.

You brushed it off at first but he insisted. He chuckled. God, that chuckle.

He listed every time you did miraculous feats of skill on set. How clever and astounding your artistry was and you weren't given enough credit for it. He smirked, oh how would spring trap put it. Since we are here now.

For a decaying and undead human. A vile pest still left to scurry and crawl around. The corpse relying on the very exoskeleton it's trapped in. To someone like Springtrap, someone left to keep the pieces together is a highly valuable asset. One to keep close. Oh my dear I'd never let you leave.

His hand held yours.

William could relate in some ways. On any bad day, you kept him together. Filming always was worse without your presence. So interesting. Unique. An oddity to some but a dear friend to him. Perhaps he should have been a little more vocal about that. He'll do better from now on. He always keeps his promises

You stared, wide eyed and lips parted. Bright red painted your face and you couldn't hide it. Maybe he didn't want you to hide it

His hand brought yours close to the mask, pressing against the teeth. He smiled, staring right into your eyes as he did so. Your hand tingled from his grasp.

Even after you parted. Went back to the set. Had to pretend what just happened didn't. Your hand didn't forget. You didn't forget. Neither did he.

HOPUOUGHG MY??OH MY GOD

#spacie splains #OHN YM OG MY GODF #OHH OH MY GOD #JHHHHHH H

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unclear-contributions · 5 months

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🖌 If they spray-painted a city wall, what would they write / draw?

Emilia

🍺 What's their favorite drinking game? If they don't drink, their favorite card or board game. What's their approach to winning?

Noam

🤓 What is one thing that they "nerd out" over?

Aria

I'm @writeblr-of-my-own btw

Hullo Mx. Blr! A pleasure to see you in my inbox again.

Emilia: First of all, Emilia is offended that you would insinuate that the Crown Princess would deface public property. Second of all, she would not spray paint it herself. She would hire an artist to spray paint it for her -- a stylized rendition of the crest of the Empire, in honor of its glorious rule and kindness. Public art is an important part of displaying the wealth of the Empire, and extending their cultural reach, and unifying their national identity. Third of all, I'm pretty sure I saw her stencilling a quite amateurish, but very enthusiastic, piece of graffitti about the importance of supporting and elevating peasants. Aria and Noam may or may not have been mentioned by name or by face -- I think she deserves a little dignity, at least, and I'll grant her a little by not specifying any further.

Noam: Noam's favorite drinking game is one where he watches people drink. He will also have a drink. To participate. He likes feeling included, even if he doesn't quite understand all the intricate rules of drinking games and drinking cultures. Emilia has very interesting reactions to being drunk. He does not understand them, but she probably makes more sense than when she's sober, to be perfectly honest. Aria is too good at holding her liquor, but she likes to pretend she's drunk, to flirt outrageously with Emilia. Noam understands this, and thinks it's fun. Noam leans to lightweight, but a fast metabolism lets him drink a lot as long as he measures himself.

Aria: Aria doesn't have a lot to nerd out over -- she's mostly busy trying to keep herself afloat in schoolwork, catch up her muscle and thaumaturgic memory to the nobles, and seduce the Crown Princess. That's a lot to do! But she does find noble politics, and specifically, noble presentation-politics fascinating. She could go on for hours about the different ways that nobles deflect, obviate, evade, imply, insinuate, and otherwise modify and tamper their presentation for various effects. She rarely nerds out -- she displays this knowledge and joy in practice, because she needs to. Or at least, she thinks she needs to...perhaps she'd explain some to Noam. To help him. Explaining it to Emilia is like explaining gills to a fish.

Thanks for the asks!

#uc writes #peasant #i am inconsistent about tagging these dorks #but VOLUME is a tagging system all its own!#< blatantly incorrect

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lemon-wedges · 5 months

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6, 7 and 20 from the "love your fandom" asks, please!

6. something you see in art a lot and love

MASCOTS. my fav thing to come out of canon tgaa that I think all fandoms needs. liKE????? They're so cute man. I love when people draw iris surrounded by all her plushie versions but also when they're REAL and chuu looks so chaotic he could kill.....or chuu being soft and being held by barok. Or ryuu with KITTIES. OR everytime we get new outfits for characters people immediatly draw the mascots in them too....

7. your favorite tropes to read/write/draw

There is SO MANY. Baker Street fam + barok going to Japan for vacation and just having a good time. Supernatural aus. Time travel (for horny reasons 😔). And of course the classic....baroks interest/love for ryuu being compared to a religious idolatry. And ryuu being firmly Just Some Guy lol

I don't draw any of that tho even tho I SHOULD. I mostly like focusing on making art inspired by art styles from the late 1800s. The color and techniques from those paintings give a moody softness to the characters that Feel So Right. (And mayhaps I like to pretend I'm an old timey artist hired to paint their portraits lol)

20. your very first fandom!

NARUTO. Spent my middle school days hanging around the ol Quizzilla "who is ur ninja boyfriend?" . Reading fanfic and making edgy ninja ocs. It's actually what got me into drawing!! Literally wouldn't be here without him DATTEBAYO!!!!

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living-in-loud-silence · 1 year

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AU Ideas - Leverage

Just a bunch of AU ideas (mostly OT3) that I've compiled but haven't been able to write myself and decided to share. Please let me know if you write something based on one of these ideas (even if it's not for the Leverage fandom) because I would like to read it.

Relationship Based:

Fake/Arranged Relationship

- Eliot and Hardison are dating, but the fact that Hardison’s friend Parker doesn’t technically exist has just become a problem and for whatever reason, the only solution is to legitimize her existence through marriage. - Couples Cruise: Hardison has been hired to gather information on a particular person/people, but the target is going to be on a couples cruise for the next month or two. The cruise has suspiciously good security protocols in place, so he can’t pose as a staff member and needs a hardline into the ship electronic systems. Parker is an occasional colleague who he asks for help, Eliot is on the ship working as a chef (either to gather intel for Moreau or as a legitimate job), Sophie is a “marriage counselor” working on the cruise, and Nate is there for IYS. - For Good Publicity: Parker is a former Olympic gymnast who now makes money by selling various merchandise she designs, doing visual/performing arts, advertising contracts, etc., Eliot is a Country singer/musician. Their managers suggest that they pretend to date to normalize Parker’s image/brand and soften Eliot’s (she’s a little too weird and he’s been getting in fist fights). Parker agrees because Sophie usually has good ideas, Eliot doesn’t agree but Nate makes it happen anyway. Breanna, Parker’s social media manager (a teenager she met doing graffiti who volunteered to help and didn’t expect to get paid for it), isn’t thrilled about the arrangement, because she’d been planning on setting Parker up with her older foster brother, Hardison. Since Parker agrees to Sophie’s plan, Breanna plans out a timeline of how to use both the relationship and the breakup to improve Parker’s image in the shortest period possible. After the break-up, Parker does actually start going out with Hardison, but then one day Eliot shows up on her doorstep (or third story balcony) having realized that he loves her. Ultimately OT3 happens. - Instead of training her as a thief, Archie brought Parker home and tried to raise her as a normal person anyway. Parker pursued a life of crime anyway, but now she has Archie and Marylin bothering her about finding a significant other and adopting them some more grand-babies. She convinces one or both of her crime buddies (Hardison and Eliot) to be a pretend boyfriend.

Occupation Based:

Artist AU: Hardison is a famous artist who agrees to do an exhibition/auction fundraiser for charity. Nate is there for insurance investigator reasons, Sophie is there grifting someone, Parker is casing the building for a future heist, and Eliot is trying to blend and avoid the guys chasing him. Eliot happens to have a concussion and is just standing around staring blankly at a particular painting. Parker is observing that same painting, which happens to be displayed near a skylight, and considering an on-the-spot heist. Hardison mistakes the intense staring for people being really into his art and goes to chat them up.

Assassin AU

- Parker is an assassin and Hardison is using the target’s credit card. - Eliot is an assassin and Hardison is using the target’s credit card. - Eliot and Parker are both hired to kill the same troublesome hacker. - Moreau sends Eliot to take out an accomplished international thief who refuses to become an asset (and is therefore a liability), Parker is bored of stealing and she accepts a contract hit on Damien Moreau’s boy-toy. - Eliot has just gone freelance after leaving Moreau and gets hired to take out a hacker, but when he’s doing reconnaissance on the guy, he sees Hardison petting puppies, helping old ladies with their groceries, and trying to explain Monopoly (or another board-game) to his girlfriend who doesn’t understand why robbing the bank is cheating. It turns into a conversation about the U.S. economy and capitalism and Parker has some good points and really Eliot can’t just kill these idiots without explaining the value of having a monopoly on railroads to them. - Eliot finds a convenient apartment to use as a sniper’s nest while the occupant is out of town. The apartment belongs to one of Hardison’s cover identities and he comes back into the country under a different identity and goes to visit Nana in another city. Parker isn’t ready to meet Nana, so she decides to break into Hardison’s apartment and hang out there until he gets back.

Independent Business AU

- Coffeeshop/Bakery/Cat-Cafe AU: Eliot buys out the retiring owners of an independent cafe/coffeeshop/bakery where Hardison regularly brings his laptop (having upgraded the wifi as a favor to the former owners) so he can truthfully tell Nana he’s getting out of the apartment daily. In return for custom pastries, drinks, and sandwiches, Hardison helps with the business logistics and finances; he also sets up an electronic ordering system. Parker has seen Eliot giving day-old pastries to homeless vets and shelters and decides that his cafe would be a good home for her collection of stray cats; she only has three to start with, but after breaking in and leaving those three in the middle of the night with a note to take care of them or else, she brings more stray cats (or other animals, possibly a disabled raccoon) when she finds them. - Restaurant (Chef/Waiter) AU: Eliot is the chef, Nate does the finances, Sophie is the hostess/manager, Hardison owns the restaurant, Parker picks up shifts as a waitress, bartender, line-cook, and hostess in between heists.

Prostitution/Brothel AU

- Eliot is tired of killing people and starts working at a brothel, mostly he does security stuff and keeps clients from ignoring limits and safewords, but occasionally he takes clients who make certain requests. Hardison goes to the brothel to update their electronic security system and ends up fucking Eliot instead of getting paid. Parker is gray-ace and doesn’t know it, so she comes to the brothel to ask questions and figure out why everyone likes sex so much. Sophie is the Madam (and possibly runs a high class escort service as well). Nate is an investigator of some sort who tried to shut down Sophie’s businesses for years before giving up (falling in love with her) and starting to bring her “good kids who’ve made bad choices” to rehabilitate. [Alternately Nate took over his father’s criminal operations, turned them into a small empire and despite Sophie operating in his (newly-conquered) territory, he agrees to trading favors instead of trying to make her pay protection] - Hardison is an author who gets most of his ideas from watching security footage illegally (maybe he’s got undiagnosed agoraphobia or he just doesn’t believe in privacy or both). One day he happens to be watching the live feed from a fancy hotel bar where Moreau is conducting business. Something (Eliot) keeps Hardison coming back and eventually tracking Moreau and compiling evidence of illegal dealings. Fairly early on, Hardison notices that Moreau prostitutes Eliot to favored business partners, but despite growing concern for Eliot’s consent and well-being, Hardison can’t do anything about it from the safety of his apartment. Nate (agent, editor, or publisher) shows up to nag Hardison about an upcoming deadline (which he totally forgot about), leading Hardison to hire Parker for leg work (and general crime) because he won’t be able to focus on writing until Eliot is safe. He also has Nate put him in touch with Sophie so he can get his amassed intelligence into the right hands without implicating himself. Meanwhile, Eliot knows he’s being watched, but is starting to hate himself enough that he really doesn’t care about anything. Once Moreau is arrested (any evidence of Eliot’s involvement having mysteriously disappeared), Eliot decides to track down the person/people who saved him.

Carnival/Circus AU: Parker is a performer and pickpocket, Eliot is involved in the drug-running and human-trafficking for which the carnival/circus is a cover, Hardison just wants to take his foster siblings for a fun day out. Nate is the rogue FBI investigator trying to bring down the take down the trafficking ring (which his bosses have dismissed for lack of evidence). Sophie is a criminal (not that Nate can prove she’s anything other than an actress/theatre director) that Nate asks for help with the case.

College/University/Student AU

- “it’s 3 am and I’m still in the library studying for finals and I’m losing my grip on reality and I think I just saw a ghost” AU: Hardison has been ‘studying’ for 28 hours without a break, Eliot is trying to prepare for a math final of some sort that he’s pretty sure he’ll fail regardless and Parker is the ghost. - “My computer crashed and you’re the student worker at the IT center” AU: Eliot got angry at his computer and punched it, Hardison makes extra cash fixing computers, phones, and the occasional mass spectrometer or gas chromatograph that a grad student needs reprogrammed off the books. - “I couldn’t help but notice you’re watching [security footage] instead of studying in the computer lab” AU: Parker is doing surveillance, Hardison is trying to study. - “you live above me and I’m going to murder you if you don’t stop throwing parties Sunday night” AU: Eliot is getting really tired of Hardison’s parties and how can a bunch of geeks playing boardgames make so much goddamn noise?

Hospital AU

- Parker is an ER doctor, Hardison is the hospital IT guy assigned to the ER, and Eliot is in an abusive relationship or participates in underground MMA or both. - Parker is an ER doctor/nurse, Eliot is one of the night security guards for the ER, Hardison is very accident-prone/clumsy.

Emergency Services (9-1-1) AU: Eliot is a firefighter, Parker is a paramedic, and Hardison a 9-1-1 dispatcher.

Lawyer AU: Eliot is on trial for a crime he absolutely did commit because the person who hired him gave him up in return for a lighter sentence on other crimes. Hardison shows up pretending to be a lawyer, and ‘proves’ Eliot innocent. At the end of the trial, Hardison takes Eliot out to dinner (Eliot is just confused and going along with it because he thinks it all might be a drug-induced hallucination or coma dream) with Sophie, Nate, and Parker. They’re all chatting happily until Eliot interrupts with something like “you know, I did kill that guy, I’m not really innocent,” and Hardison replies with “and I’m not really a lawyer, so what?”

Delivery Service AU: Parker works as a freelance courier and picks up shifts for various delivery services off-the-books, both of which give her the opportunity to case targets and find things worth stealing. Nate, Sophie, Hardison, and Eliot are all customers at one point or another. Eliot is usually a sender where as Hardison is usually a recipient.

Veterinarian (sort-of) AU: Eliot is a black-market medic of sorts, using a veterinary cover story to advertise his services on the dark web. Hardison thinks he’s contacting an actual vet who does house calls, but he’s so flustered by Megabyte’s injury/illness that he mixes up his browsers or doesn’t realize he’s searching the dark web instead of the regular internet. Eliot doesn’t like his new client’s attitude towards their subordinates (taking the dog metaphor too far) but he needs the money, so he shows up prepared for a high level lieutenant in organized crime or something only to be met by an anxious ‘computer engineer’ and an actual dog. Still, Eliot manages to fix up Meg and get Hardison to calm down, at which point Hardison realizes his mistake. They part ways agreeing to forget each others’ names and faces, but Hardison ends up keeping track of Eliot and later on calls him again when Parker gets hurt on a job and zip-lines through his window bleeding.

Blogger AU: Hardison is a social media entity with accounts on most major social networks, but his primary thing is a blog where he does honest reviews of just about anything (restaurants, movies, Met Gala fashion choices, video-games products and services, etc.), talks about cute animals he sees, shares what he learns when he goes down a wikipedia/research rabbit hole and writes non-identifying things about his personal life. As such, his crushes on both Parker and Eliot are talked about, and his readers are privy to his struggle to choose one over the other. Eventually one or both of them finds the blog and after they have a fight, Hardison talks about things on the blog, not realizing Eliot and Parker are reading it and know what it’s about. This causes problems because Hardison writes things about Eliot’s toxic masculinity that he would never say to his face, and express a desire for normal relationship milestones that Parker could never give him.

Other:

Survival/Apocalypse/Dystopia AU

- Population/Fertility Crisis: Dealer’s choice how it happens (perhaps by infecting the wheat supply – see Wakefield Agriculture and Dr. Ann Hannity), but most of the world ends up infertile. Ten years down the line, the world is still overpopulated, but there are almost no kids being born so some powerful entity (governments/corporations/etc.) enforces genetic testing, picks out the people most likely to still be fertile, and abducts them. Hardison and Parker are two of the fertile individuals, Damien Moreau controls the program, Eliot is Moreau’s severely abused right hand and is put in charge of monitoring the subjects and delivering security assessments. Eliot falls in love with Hardison and Parker from a far and as Moreau’s abuse worsens he thinks about helping them escape even if it kills him. Eventually Eliot is approached by Nate and Sophie, who are working with a resistance movement, and agrees to help them free the abducted fertile individuals and ultimately take down Moreau and the entity in charge. Meanwhile, Parker and Hardison have been using their respective skills to get information about their captors and the project, and plan an escape. Because Hardison has been in the computers and Parker has been in the vents, they know Moreau is hurting Eliot, so they decide he’s the best option for someone to turn. Harry is a lawyer who initially helps make the program look legal but then has a moral awakening and becomes a spy for the resistance. Breanna does social organizing and spy tech for the resistance and her relationship with Sophie is the reason that Nate and Sophie know about Hardison’s computer skills and choose to start by rescuing him. Archie lends his skills to the resistance (or just Sophie and Nate) in return for their promise to rescue Parker.

Castaway AU: Eliot steals a helicopter to escape an employer who’s trying to clean up all evidence of their crimes, but he’s got a concussion and it’s been a while since he last flew a helicopter so he crashes. Hardison is hired anonymously to find the wreck and since his employer is cagey about the ‘why,’ Hardison in turn hires Parker to check out the wreck before giving the GPS coordinates to his employer. Parker finds Eliot along with the wreck and he explains the situation. Hardison gets both of them back to civilization and they take down the guy who was trying to kill Eliot.

Neighbor AU: Eliot is hiding after getting away from Moreau, Hardison is just doing his hacking thing, and Alice White rents the apartment in between theirs because Archie told her to back up the identity better. Sophie is Parker’s crime friend, Nate lives one floor down from Parker, Hardison, and Eliot, and is working in a children’s hospital, helping the doctors and parents get insurance to cover treatment. Sophie visits Parker and happens to run into Nate who she met while he was still working for IYS.

Will be added to as I come up with things I can't write myself.

#leverage #leverage: redemption #fanfiction #idea #writing #creative writing #inspiration #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker (leverage)#sophie devereaux #nate ford #archie leach #damien moreau

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 2 years

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maybe im being a little self indulgent, maybe its the delirium from having my wisdom teeth removed, but rmmr charles grey and his artist boyf hcs i asked a while back??? well,,,, 👉👈 if u dont mind, maybe hcs or scenario where artist boyf is invited to the queen’s ball (shes probably in on this whole ordeal, watching grey run around in circles lol). instead of socializing with possible suitors as his mother requested, he decides to ask the queen if he could just paint the dance scene (u know how some ppl hire artists for weddings to paint and stuff??) and she agrees bc???? idk he’s pretty and so is his art so it’s a win win??? grey brings it upon himself to stand watch over him and starts chatting, maybe even making him laugh a little??? sorry if this is too long

oh heck yeah getting to write these two is always a treat!

someone in the back seeing Grey set his sights on one single person: BUT HE’S A WHORE????? 😂😂😂

Well, obviously the only chivalrous thing to do here is to stand watch over the artist! The man is probably physically delicate, so, Grey himself would be a perfect choice should something… er… exciting happen. Besides, he and Phipps are both on duty, so they ought to have at least two different vantage points for protection, right? Phipps is on the other side of the room doing something or other, meaning positioned next to (Name) is the perfect place for Grey to be.

He was never really one for the arts in general until he caught interest in this man; he prefers action, battle, sports. If it were any other artist Her Majesty had chosen to paint the scene, Grey would go behind their back to other friends and laugh about how boring a job it has to be. Because it’s (Name), however, he suddenly finds some magical interest in it that he didn’t see before. Even better that he sees that the man had to ask the Queen’s permission. That indicates he was invited, not hired, and painting really is what he truly enjoys. There are two boxes checked off, in that case ― noble enough to be sent an invitation, and passionate enough to ignore all the socialite business in favor of just doing what he wants. Being who he is, Charles Grey is a big proponent for just doing whatever the hell one wishes.

Oh, he pretends he’s doing something kind by ‘guarding’ (Name) from any potential danger or nosy people, but it’s almost for certain that the other man knows the truth. And that’s just how he wants it, right? Surely letting Grey give a bit of chase after him and allowing himself to be charmed is a better dance than a waltz. Plus, he really would rather not mingle, because Grey is pretty much the only one he’s interested in. Best not give other people false hope.

For that matter, Grey certainly doesn’t want to dance with anyone else. He’d rather dance with (Name) all night… unfortunately, he may still indulge a young lady or two here and there, if only to keep up his appearance as a polite gentleman. Polite gentlemen don’t rudely decline dance offers, after all! Still, he keeps it short if he must dance with anyone else, returning to the artist’s side after only one song.

The whole time, Grey makes sure to snag a glass of champagne or a few pastries from whoever happens to be passing by offering them every so often. He singlehandedly prevents (Name) from going hungry or thirsty… even though he also eats at least half of what he takes himself. Of course, the suggestion from the other man that the two of them split a glass or a snack is met with delight. And perhaps a little confusion. Maybe some flustered blinking. He doesn’t turn it down, though.

What makes (Name) laugh more than anything is how all up in everyone’s business Grey seems to be. He has gossip about every person that the artist points out. Some of it is quite mundane like someone accidentally wearing the wrong fashions, but some of it is as serious as the plague… you know, like who’s sleeping with whose husband and things like that. Is it in poor taste that he prattles about it to (Name)? Perhaps a bit. He words it in such a way that one can’t help laughing, though, and at least he doesn’t say these things to people’s faces!

Toward the end of the night when people have gotten somewhat drunk and aren’t paying much attention, Grey leans down behind (Name)’s canvas under the guise of saying something else to the man… and very quickly gives him a peck on the cheek. It could be dismissed by those who are drunk as a gesture of affection between friends ― however, it is very much not that, and (Name) is well aware of that fact. Adding to it is that Grey lets his hand linger on the other man’s during the kiss, and for a few seconds after, he’s rather slow in pulling away. Although he isn’t nearly as bold as he might like to be, he still thinks he’s as bold as is possible. The act is certainly appreciated, at any rate.

The Queen is most definitely in on it. After several years of watching Grey refuse to settle down and then seeing his attention pulled in by this one man, she’s going to see to it that he tries to get cozy with someone. (Not at all related is the fact that she’s tired as hell of one of her butlers being accused of being a whore. SETTLE WITH SOMEONE, GREY!!!)

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Grey #Charles Grey #headcanons #romantic #fluff #drama #DANG THESE TWO #get a room 😂😂#one hell of a queue

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shining-louist · 2 years

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- Misbehaving Honeys by @thinlines on ao3, 29k words

“Hey, since we’re on the topic of newbies… Don’t you guys feel like,” As casual as possible, Louis, you can do this. “That Styles kid has it out for me?” He kept his tone as neutral and unperturbed as possible, but judging from the startled looks he was getting, the comment must have taken his teammates by surprise.

“Styles? You mean Harry?” Liam asked, hands on his hips as he frowned.

Louis nodded and for a second Liam stared at him before bursting out in laughter.

In which Omega Louis can't figure out why the alpha newbie on their footie team seems to hold a grudge against him.

- Why Didn't We Make Out the Night We Met? by @berzerkshires on ao3, 52k words

Louis and Harry meet in an alley outside the hotel Louis is staying for the weekend. Harry introduces himself as Ed, and Louis is completely clueless. They have a relationship through text messages, phone calls, shared pictures and Facetime calls.

Is a cell phone being the only source of communication enough? Will Louis ever learn that he's really talking to an international popstar? And what happens when the world is shutdown due to a wide spread virus?

- The Journal by 4ureyesonly28, RecycledStardust on ao3, 14k words

When Harry finds himself purchasing an antique journal in the ancient bookshop of a town he's never heard of, he doesn't exactly want to admit that he has no idea how he got there. A myriad of odd coincidences and a few kind smiles from the shopkeeper have the two of them working hard to solve the mystery of this strange journal that seems to have been waiting for Harry for almost a hundred and thirty years.

- Lost & Found In Oblivion by @thinlines on ao3, 75k words

Everything wasn’t at all like he had planned. He was supposed to answer the door calmly and coolly, like a proper experienced adult dressed in protective hoodie and joggers. Not like this. But this was what he had and he had no choice but to roll with it.

“I fucking paid for this, didn’t I?” Louis muttered to himself and took a huge inhale.

OR Omega Louis decided to hire an alpha for his heat to ease his touch deprivation, but little did he know everything would grow into so much more.

- Here You Come Again by @Neondiamond on ao3, 22k words

A year after taking over his family’s peach orchard, Louis thinks he has it all figured out. His routine on the farm is mundane, yet familiar, and his dog Clifford is more than enough to keep him company. It isn’t until Harry, his ex-boyfriend who broke his heart and left their small town a decade ago to pursue a bigger, brighter future in the city, comes to stay on the farm that he realises just how badly he was lying to himself.

- No One Like You by @myownspark on ao3, 20k words

Dear Niall,

I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely,

Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

- Right down the line by @Poopish_scoopish on ao3, 61k words

Louis knew what was coming before Amanda even opened her mouth. He turned down towards his plate and pretended not to have heard their conversation, begging in his mind for her not to say anything.

"Louis lives in South Village!"

Bollocks.

He kept his head down. Don't notice me, don't notice me, don't notice me.

"Louis!" Amanda called across the distance between their round tables.

Fucking hell.

Louis tried his best to seem surprised at the sound of his name, uttering a reluctant, "Yeah?".

"Harry here has gotten his car damaged and has to take a taxi to work every day." Harry seemed to shrink in his seat, head hanging down a bit as if to cover himself. "Says he lives in South Village. Can't you pick him up on your way?" she asked with a smile, oblivious to both Louis' and Harry's apparent discomfort.

"Sure, I can pick you up."

OR, Harry's the new math teacher who loves to make new friends and Louis hates to let new people in his life. As they say, opposites attract.

#weeklyfanficreads #fanfic #larryfics #larrystylinson #larry #harrystyles #louistomlinson #shining louist #weeklywrapup

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listening-to-free-audiobooks · 11 months

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Some Like It Charming (It's Only Temporary, Book 1)

Take one disgustingly handsome and too-wealthy man. Add in one woman who loves to hate him. Stir them together in the bubbling pot of a fake engagement and watch as a man who can have anything he wants falls for the one woman who just won't give him her heart...

Mackenzie Wyatt believes in two things: herself and her plan. And her plan is to keep her head down and work hard until she can retire. Never mind that she doesn't know what she'll do once she retires– at least she won't be working for the man anymore. Because even though he's a gorgeous man, he's still her boss and he likes to push her buttons.

Ethan Howell O’Connor’s charmed life comes to a screeching halt after his latest ex-girlfriend starts a fashionable trend in talking to the tabloids. Now all of Ethan's old girlfriends are talking to the press, ruining his reputation, and wiping that charming smile right off his face. The only person who can brighten his black mood is the same person who can annoy him to kingdom come. He and Mackenzie have feuded since the day she was hired but now Ethan's starting to realize: maybe those sparks were hiding a blazing fire.

Mackenzie's about to find out that sometimes a gorgeous man can come up with a plan all his own, and it's a given that it'll mess hers up...

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Some Like It Ruthless (It's Only Temporary, Book 2)

Dallas, Texas~ the home of big hair and big hats. Big money and big egos. Big lives, big loves, and big mistakes…

The Caldwells and Montgomerys have been feuding for generations, and through the years Margaret and Cole have been secret friends, secret lovers, and outright enemies. For the last six years, they've both pretended the other didn't exist— it's hard to get along with a Caldwell when she always gets what she wants; it's hard to trust a Montgomery when he'll go out of his way to break a deal.

But six years is a long time. Long enough to make a woman who was once queen of the Dallas social set now teeter on the brink of bankruptcy. Long enough to make a man who was once reviled now so prosperous that anyone in Dallas would beg to be under his thumb.

Almost anyone. Because Margaret Caldwell hasn't forgotten that the last time she made a deal with Cole Montgomery, he betrayed her— and she'll never believe that all he wants for saving her this time is forgiveness for his one big mistake…

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Some Like It Perfect (It's Only Temporary, Book 3)

A woman who has nothing. A man who wants for nothing.

Delia Woodson is desperate. That’s why she agrees to it. Because she’s a painter, no one is buying her paintings, and she’s desperate. She has bills to pay, food to buy. Someday she might actually want to live in her own apartment instead of on her friend’s couch. And all she has to do is paint baby-faced angels on an indecently rich, corporate shill’s ceiling. Because, he just can’t think of any other way to spend his money? And she just can’t think of any other way to make it.

Jack Cabot doesn’t want the mural his mother has commissioned for his office ceiling. He doesn’t want the distraction, he doesn’t want the silliness. He doesn’t want the artist now spending her days ten feet above his head. The artist with paint in her hair, distracting him. Bickering with him. Amusing him…until Jack discovers he does want something after all.

youtube

Some Like It Hopeless (It's Only Temporary, Book 4)

In love with her gay best friend since forever, Cassandra Spencer has accepted that not everyone can have the fairy tale. Not everyone can have marriage and children and the same last name. But she has Shane, and she loves him and he loves her… Until he falls in love with someone else. Someone nothing like Cassandra; someone she can never accept.

Brady Roberts destroyed his whole world, and there will be no forgiveness. No end to his guilt and pain. He exists day to day until he tangles with a woman who just won’t let him. A woman who believes that life is meant to be lived, no matter how hard it is. No matter how much it hurts. No matter how hopeless. Because sometimes, hopeless doesn’t have to mean alone. And sometimes, hopeless isn’t the end.

~ ~ ~

Buy Megan Bryce's audiobooks: https://www.audible.com/author/Megan-... https://www.chirpbooks.com/authors/me...

Buy Megan Bryce's ebooks: https://www.amazon.com/Megan-Bryce/e/...

#It's Only Temporary Series #Author: Megan Bryce #Romance #Romance Audiobooks #Romantic Comedy #Contemporary Romance #Youtube

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generalcircus · 2 years

Text

Bored Security Guard Draws Eyes On Million Dollar Painting

Via YourTango

Alexander Vasiliev, a security guard at an art gallery in Russia could face prison time after vandalizing a painting reportedly worth up to a million dollars. Prison time for vandalizing a painting?!? You’re probably wondering what he did to the artwork to deserve such punishment (unless you read the title). Did he set fire to the thing? Did he send it through a paper shredder? Rub his dick on it? Did he ok you get the point. But no, none of the above. He, well... simply finished it.

This was apparently the poor sap’s first day on the job and look, we’ve all been there. The big first day. You’re nervous, you couldn’t sleep the night before, you probably have that anxiety diarrhea we all love, and the last thing you want to do is mess anything up. And not because you actually give two shits about some meaningless job you’re going to quit in a few months, but because you don’t feel like catching an ear beating by some miserable power tripping, micromanaging ass hat with coffee breath and the perfectly putrid combination of body odor and cheap cologne. First days suck, regardless of whether or not you draw eyes on a priceless painting.

According to news reports, Vasiliev claimed he was told the artwork was done by teenagers and said teenagers even gave him a pen to draw eyes on the painting. Let’s pretend for a second that we believe this lying moron... Why on earth would you be hired as a security guard at a place that displayed artwork done by zit faced kids lacking fully developed brains. What are you guarding? Their virginities? Come on dude. We’ve all been there. You wanna make a good impression on your first day and thought finishing a priceless work of art was a good way to get the boss’s attention. Maybe the artist died of a heart attack right before they were about to add the facial features and you’re just helping them out. We’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re not just a dumbass who was fooled by some giggly girls.

And I gotta say, that shitty painting does definitely look better with eyes.

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jouta-salad · 3 years

Text

SDC Sugar Daddy HCs (Afab!Fem reader)

(CW: a touch of manipulation/toxic relationships, a hint of yandere, implied smut, age gap, mentions of intoxication/alcohol, daddy kink)

Oldseph

Typical. Not surprised he went after a beautiful young woman like you, especially considering he had an affair with Tomako when he was in his 50-60’s

He would definitely be rough with you, but it’s to be expected

He’ll grope your breasts and smack your ass in semi-public places and laugh when you get flustered and shy

Will definitely show you off to his friends at parties

“This is my baby y/n.. isn’t she a beauty?” *old man chuckle*

Speaking of parties, he would pressure you into drinking and you always end up getting drunk bc of him

Buys you lots of small dresses and lacy lingerie.. he especially likes buying you cute little sundresses

All you have to say is “daddy I want ____.” and give him doe eyes and he’ll buy double of what you originally wanted

Makes you massage his scalp sometimes

Will literally spoil you rotten and get you whatever you ask for, even if it’s the weirdest shit(He’ll even buy you horse semen if you really wanted it)

Loves to tease and poke at you in general

Kakyoin

My boy would definitely be kind of yandere

He literally had no one for most of his life so he wants to make sure you won’t ever leave him especially bc he loves you sm

Will gaslight you if you get angry at him

Loves spoiling you and would def buy you super expensive perfumes and shampoos bc he loves it when you smell good

He also loves buying you expensive handbags and silk clothing too

ESPECIALLY LOVES IT WHEN YOU WEAR SILK so expect a lot of cute silk lingerie, dresses, and nightgowns from him

Loves taking you to fancy ass parties and make you hold onto the crook of his arm and follow him around place to place like an accessory or smt

Would buy you cocktails to sip on while he took you around so you don’t get too bored

Shows you off sometimes at the parties

“This is my darling, y/n.. isn’t she just the prettiest girl?”

Would do shit like that and embarrass you for fun sometimes bc he thinks you’re cute all flustered and shy

He would totally do the ‘grab your chin with his fingers and force eye contact’ thing and then kiss you OMFGG

Btw, hes definitely a sucker for seeing you in his coats and shirts and seeing how oversized it is compared to you

Avdol

This man is one of the nicest sugar daddies ever

He would totally buy lots and lots of accessories like necklaces and bracelets and earrings

And probably lots of loose or flowy clothes

Would buy you any pets you want

Like literally you can ask for 3 horses and a cat and he’s back with people working on building stables and shit

He would take you on once-in-a-lifetime trips around the world at the nicest hotels

Would braid your hair or just play with it a lot

Definitely hires artists to paint beautiful portraits of you

He also hires professional gardeners to plant your favorite flowers in the garden

Genuinely has a lot of wholesome love towards you, and would do anything to keep him by his side forever

He loves when you kiss the scar on his forehead. He finds it so endearing.

He always dreamed of having kids with a beautiful woman like you… would definitely pressure you really hard if you didnt want any

Jotaro

He’s super fucking mean. Or acts like it atleast.

Would buy you professionally tailored dresses and lingerie and demand you wear them whenever he felt like it

He’ll pretty much buy you anything you want (especially if you give him puppy eyes) as long as it isn’t anything too weird

“..Good grief, don’t look at me like that.” *purchases $1500 handbag*

He also won’t let you buy lots of pets like Avdol. His limit is a dog and a cat.

I have a feeling he would pretend to be annoyed when you asked, but would willingly buy you so many plushies???

Takes you along to his business parties and gives you his card to buy cocktails and shit while he goes off and socializes.

And if you ever get drunk at one he’s gonna be pissed af and might “punish” you later or literally punish you. It depends.

Will definitely make you light his cigars for him

When you do something well he’ll give you head pats and stroke your hair

Call him sir or mr kujo and he goes bizzerk

He secretly loves it when you sit on his lap, and he’ll hold your hips when you do

Loves it when you massage his back and shoulders,, especially while he’s doing his work

Polnareff

This man is the ultimate sugar daddy

He will literally buy you anything you want.

Oh you stared at a pair of shoes at the mall a second longer than usual? He’s off to purchase it

did I mention that he’s also the biggest flirt ever?

“Did I ever mention you just look absolutely beautiful today mademoiselle? Not that you don’t normally hehehe”

He says shit like that daily to the point it barely fazes you anymore lol

He buys you the most extravagant presents out of the blue

One time he randomly bought you a fancy horse-drawn carriage ride “just for fun” and bc “he knew you would love it”

Will buy you flowers almost everyday and so there’s just vases all over the house

A huge fan of pda and will have you hold onto him whether it means holding his arm or hand

Also gives the best hugs

One day he adopted a white and light ginger cat that you both named “brûlée”

He fucking loves sharing food with you for no reason

Maybe it reminds him of that one spaghetti kiss in ‘Lady and the Tramp’

Also be wary because he might get drunk with his friends on accident and you’ll have to take care of him until he knocks out

#stardust crusaders #jjba part 3 #jojos bizarre adventure #oldseph #joseph joestar #jean polnareff #jjba x reader #jotaro kujo #kakyoin noriaki #muhammad avdol #jotaro x reader #kakyoin x reader #avdol x reader #joseph joestar x reader #polnareff x reader

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meowdarame · 2 years

Text

strictly professional

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

pairings: supermodel!lev x f!reader; (she/her pronouns, afab!reader)

synopsis: supermodel lev haiba can’t help but lust after his gorgeous makeup artist; 725 words

warnings: explicit language, SMUT (18+, minors DNI!!), male masturbation, perv!lev, slightly yandere themes, lmk if i missed anything!

notes: this is my submission for @meiansmistress underrated character collab! a super special thank you to my beta reader, sam <3 as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Lev knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

He knows it’s wrong— that it’s unprofessional, and maybe even borderline creepy— to lust after someone who was hired to do his makeup for a photoshoot. He knows it’s perverted to imagine such lewd things about someone whom he just met, someone whose relationship with him doesn’t extend beyond the purely transactional.

Yet he still can’t stop himself from shifting underneath his warm covers, fingers trailing down his torso, wrapping around the waistband of his shorts, and lowering his boxers so that his cock springs free and slaps against his toned abs.

He runs his lithe fingertips along the underside of his length, tracing the outline of a prominent vein. He bites his lip and sucks in a quick breath once they dance around his tip. Growing impatient with his own tortuous teasing, his hand wraps around the top half of his cock, thumb spreading the dribbles of precum that leaks out of his slit around his throbbing tip.

His hand twists and tugs at his member at a painstakingly slow pace, taking his sweet time pleasuring himself. He shuts his eyes and envisions your pretty face, pretending that it’s your skilled hands pumping his cock rather than his own.

Lev pictures your hands— perfect, dainty little things— that effortlessly painted sparkling shapes around his eyes. He remembers the shy giggles that escaped your sweet lips when you pushed his hair out of his face. Did your breath hitch too when you lifted his chin and your eyes met for the first time earlier today? Or was he imagining that too? Lev can’t remember properly, and it’s not like he could, not with the way all of the blood from his head rushed to his dick at that exact moment, making him lose complete sense of his surroundings.

He realizes that these flashing mental images of you aren’t enough. He needs more. His shaky hands fumble in the dark in search of his phone. Once he feels the cold glass of his phone screen, he quickly pulls it to his face, the light from the screen stunning his eyes from his dimly lit bedroom. It takes a few seconds for his pupils to adjust to the sudden brightness, but once they do, he opens Instagram.

His fingers fumble through the app’s search bar, quickly typing in your username (which he sneakily found while peeking over your shoulder earlier when you weren’t looking.) After a few frustrating typos, he finds your account.

He scrolls through your feed, marveling at photos of you lounging at the beach in a skimpy bikini, dancing with your friends at some random club in the heart of Tokyo, and playing with your 5 month old puppy.

But one particular photo, a selfie of one of your most recent makeup looks, catches his eye. Shimmery eyeshadow adorns your eyelids, a dreamy look plastered on your face as you stare directly into the camera. Your luscious lips are glossy and slightly parted, and Lev imagines that they’re wrapped around his cock, eagerly kitten-licking the precum off of his aching tip.

This image is what Lev needs to push him over the edge. He cums with a soft cry, his seed spilling all over his tense abs and heaving chest. He immediately reaches over to his nightstand to grab a couple tissues to wipe himself clean.

After tossing the dirtied tissues into the trash, his post-nut clarity begins to sink in. But to his horror, his eyes are met with an embarrassing sight.

He accidentally liked all of your photos.

How the fuck did this happen? Did his finger slip when he was jerking off? In a pitiful attempt at damage control, he clumsily attempts to unlike each post, but to make matters worse, his shaky fingers unintentionally hit the “Follow” button.

All of the blood that was just in his dick rushes to his head.

But before he can even process what just happened, a notification banner drops down from the top of his screen.

You followed him back.

Lev stares at his screen, frozen, a whirlwind of emotions clouding his head— excitement, nervousness, shame, confusion— when his phone buzzes from another notification.

[levhaiba_official] @yourusername sent you a message: it was a pleasure working with you today, mr. haiba! hope we see each other again soon! :)

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #lev haiba #lev haikyuu #lev x reader #🎲.writes #🎲.oneshots #underrated.collab #tw.yandere

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waitingforseason5 · 2 years

Note

Is the 5th season of metalocalypse already confirmed?

A feature-length movie to conclude the story, going from the Doomstar Requiem Special's cliffhanger ending is confirmed to be in the works.

*****

Upon revisiting Brendon's 2015 Twitch Interview:

Brendon's initial plan's to make a feature-length special (working title: Army of the Doomstar: the Final Chapter).

Story-wise, there's a small piece left to go, which'll aim to give the fans closure after 4 seasons and DSR.

As for the duration, it has enough material to be summarised in something that's feature length, and not season length.

*****

Latest Movie Updates:

Info's coming a lot more frequently but no word on trailers/ teasers yet. Recently they hired more Background Painters, plus an assistant character designer (maybe to co-op with Songgu Kwon).

The art style is aiming to be reminiscent of Franz Frazetta's paintings (probably like the Thunderhorse MV), and there'll be "city ruins and large-scale destruction" aplenty!

(From a [now taken] job listing at Titmouse Inc.)

*****

But here's the main things that have been posted so far (copy/pasting from my previous comment):

Brendon's been posting a bit of teasers for the upcoming music on his Instagram (give him a follow and check out his stories as they're posted).

He's also been working with Antonio Canobbio (who's the lead art director of the show, as well as the one who did the arts for all of the Dethalbums).

There was a job position at Titmouse Inc. for a Metalocalypse storyboard artist. Now that that's been taken down, it's full steam ahead with the animation. At the earliest, I'm guessing late 2022 or maybe next year.

*****

As for the blog name, I was considering changing it, with all recent developments in mind, but it'll mess up all the links to archived posts - so, when we find out what the film's called, just pretend it's "waitingforarmyofthedoomstar" or something lol

#wfs5asks #metalocalypse

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thevikingwoman · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age. Words: 3303 (this part)

Part 1 | Part 3 || read on Ao3

(art by @destinyapostasy banner by me)

Solas x Iwyn Lavellan | vampire AU | smut with feelings Rating: Explicit. Sex, painting, oral sex, biting/blood during sex, vampire stuff, very light dom/sub, sub!Solas, a bit of begging, light angst

Comfort, part 2

Iwyn watches as Solas works in the kitchen. He makes himself a hearty breakfast. Eggs, toast, mushrooms, bacon. She approves. It smells divine and she regrets not needing to eat any of it. She does accept a mug of coffee, black. Solas adds milk and 3 teaspoons of sugar to his. She’s comfortable watching him, snug in one of his sweaters.

He is a puzzle, she decides. He seems far too self-assured, too comfortable, too measured and calm to get drunk in bars, to invite someone home without a thought for his own safety. To allow her into his home and his bed, to allow her to bite him.

“So, you’re an artist?” She gestures behind her, to the hallway and the glimpse of paint and canvases in a work area, of beautiful finished paintings.

“Not really.” He shakes his head. “It’s… a hobby. I’m an investment banker. Or was.”

“Was?”

“Another partner and I was working to shut down some of the more unethical aspects of the company. The she had an… accident. I proceeded to uncover every dishonest transaction and business, and it brought the company down. I am jobless, for now.”

He shrugs, but his nonchalance is careful and deliberate.

“You don’t believe it was an accident.”

He looks up at her.

“No.” His voice is full of a deep sorrow.

“Were you close with this person? The partner.”

“She was a friend.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

“It’s no matter. What was done was done. And now I am out of work – no one in the industry would be willing to hire me.”

He shrugs again, and sits down to eat.

She is worried. This does uncover the mystery – the way recklessness seems out of character for him, the weariness she senses in him too. A part of her realizes – no one would miss him, if she missteps. He already gave her his trust, and he shouldn’t have. She ignores that part of her, tells herself she made peace with that a long time ago.

“Aren’t afraid they will retaliate. If they can arrange one accident, there could be another?”

“What happens will happen,” he says, and digs into his eggs.

She doesn’t like this fatalistic attitude one bit. She wants to hunt down the people who hurt him and make them suffer. She doesn’t pretend to ignore this impulse. She might still do it, if only she can find out their names.

“They already had their revenge,” he says. “None of them can imagine anything worse that being ostracized from the world of finance.”

Her intent must have shown on her face. And she can imagine worse. A lot worse. He doesn’t need to know.

Solas pushes his plate aside.

“Now I’ve had my breakfast” He smirks at her.

“Can I see your art?” she asks. She is curious. She is hungry, yes, but she also wants to know him, before he changes his minds and kicks her out. Not that he can force her out, now that she’s invited in, but she’d respect his wishes. She thinks.

“Of course.” He sounds surprised, like he doesn’t expect her to care about who he is or what he does. She supposes it is fair, given how she is a vampire, and only should care for blood. Or sex, or both.

He uses a spare bedroom as a studio. It is messy, littered with paper, paint, brushes, inks and more materials of all kinds. His works are in many different styles – soft charcoal sketches, impressionistic paintings, a few watercolors, but what draws her eyes is bright art, stylized and different from anything else she has seen.

“These are beautiful, Solas.” They are. The light and the uniqueness. Stylized wolves howling at the moons, bright rays of gold hitting a crumbling castle. “You should take you art to galleries. I’m sure you can sell your art.”

“It’s just a hobby.” He looks like he doesn’t believe her.

“Do you want it to stay a hobby?” She runs a hand up his back, and kisses his neck. His pulse quickens, but she doesn’t bite. “You could start something new.”

“Can I draw you?” he asks suddenly.

“You want me to pose for you?”

“Yes. Please.”

He pulls out a stool, and she sits on it. She’s wearing Solas’ sweater, and it’s too big and slips off her shoulders.

“Do you want me to take this off?”

“No, it’s fine. It looks good. Interesting.”

She tucks up one bare leg, and smiles at him.

“It’ll just a be a quick sketch,” he mumbles, pulling out an easel and securing a piece of heavy sketch paper with two rubber bands. His picks up some pens and charcoal, frowns, and states at her intently. She winks and shows a little teeth. It makes him chuckle and start drawing. His movements are quick and broad and then small and detailed. He’s concentrating and it gives her time to study him. His cheekbones, his strong jaw, and lush lips. His broad shoulders. His throat, two small wounds already almost healed. She was careful, and it will barely leave a scar.

Solas pauses, and notices her staring. He blushes, coloring his cheeks beneath his freckles.

“A little longer,” he says. “Please.”

“I’ve nowhere to be except your bed.”

His blush reaches his ears, but he keeps drawing. He picks up some colored pencils, carefully contemplating the colors before he uses them. Once decided, he’s quick.

“I just need to capture the colors,” he murmurs. “I’ll add details later.”

“Eager for something?”

“Yes.”

He looks at her briefly, then he returns to his sketch. The intent in his eyes makes her impatient too, like he can chase away the cold inside of her. She pushes that aside, and focuses her attention back on him, the confident way his hands move across the paper. It doesn’t take long for him let out a satisfied sigh and put his pencils and charcoal down.

“Thank you,” he says, and shows her his work. It’s her, detailed and accurate. She’s perched on the stool, her leg drawn up as she sat. Her smile reveals a fang and the look in her eyes is dangerous. He captured every part of her, including the one who wants to tackle him to the ground.

“Beautiful.”

“The beauty is all yours.”

She puts the drawing safely on the worktable, and kisses him.

They make it to his bedroom, his curtains securely closed still, and they tumble into his bed. He slides his hands up her legs, underneath his sweater she’s still wearing. He pulls at it.

“Please, I want to touch you.”

“I like this, though. Very cozy.”

“You can have it, later.”

She laughs, and helps him to pull it off her. His hands returns to her body, warm and large. He teases a nipple, causing her to gasp and want. He follows with his tongue, licking down her throat, lightly sucking her nipple. She wants more, and growls and digs her nails in to his shoulder until he bites. A moan escapes her, and he continues, hand on one breast, his teeth on the other and then down, hot breath against her skin. He slides to his knees in front of her, pulling her legs over the edge of his bed. She shivers in anticipation.

“May I taste you? Please.”

“Yes.”

Iwyn spreads her legs and caress his ears, causing him to moan in turn. He kisses the inside of her thigh, but he’s as impatient as she is, and he quickly finds her sex, wet and ready. He licks up to her clit and he gently sucks. She moans and presses his face to her, and he does not protest and works eagerly. He works one hand under her ass and pulls. her closer. His other hand finds her cunt, and he slides a finger, two fingers into her. She’s so wet for him, her juices coating him in a slippery mess.

“More,” she growls, and she falls backwards on the bed, tilting her hips towards him. He tongues her clit, pressing and sucking, and he pumps his fingers slowly and deep, stroking her. She rides his hand and his face faster, mercilessly, thrashing until she comes against him.

Solas sit back on his haunches and wipes his face in his shirt. He smirks when Iwyn collects herself enough to sit back up, and grabs his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself in his mouth.

“Take off your shirt,” she says, and he does. She kisses him again, and down his jaw and his throat. He trembles and his breath hitches. She wants to bite him, but she doesn’t. Not yet. He wants it too, and that excites her, sends a new bolt of arousal through her body. Too much; she has to be careful.

She nips him with blunt teeth, pushes him on the bed and climbs on top of him.

“My turn to taste you, Solas.”

His hips buck into hers, the hard ridge of his cock pushing against her. She kisses his exposed chest, trailing kisses across his collarbones, worrying his pink nipples. Everything she does make him react, shudder and moan and want. It pleases her, his willingness to take what she offers, his easy need. Iwyn moves down his body, and dips her hands beneath his pants. Solas lifts his hips to help her pull them off him, and he is finally as naked as her, beautiful spread out beneath her. She runs one finger up his large cock and it jumps, wanting more. She kisses the tip of it, the shaft, teasing and gentle.

Iwyn sits back between Solas legs, her hands on his thighs and she spread them further, making room for her.

“Put your hands above you head and keep them there. If you can.”

Solas nods, and does as he’s told, stretching out, mortal and vulnerable before her.

“Very good,” she says.

Iwyn considers him for the moment, letting him wait. She caresses his thighs with small strokes of her thumbs, until he impatiently tries to lift his hips. He can’t though, supernatural strength allowing her to keep him firmly in his place.

“Please,” he says. “Please touch me.”

“I already am,” she says, and grins at him. She moves her whole hand though, down closer to where his leg joins his crotch, fingers dancing across sensitive skin.

“More,” he whimpers, and his cock flexes impatiently.

She takes mercy on him, and grabs his cock in one hand. It’s hard and heavy and very large and pretty. She caresses the velvet soft skin and pumps lightly, her other hand fondling his balls. She bends over him and kisses the inside of his thigh. She can feel his blood there, pumping rhythmically through his veins.

Iwyn licks up his cock, and takes him in her mouth. Just the tip of him, swirling her tongue around his head. She tastes the saltiness there, and she takes as much of him as she can into her mouth. His cock is thick and long and very hard. She moans in appreciation, reveling in his gasps and groans, and the way her lips stretch around him. She keeps one hand on his hips, holding him in place, and work him slow and fast. His cock pulses in her mouth, and she pulls back, kissing down his other thigh. His pulse jumps when she scrapes blunt teeth along his tender skin.

Iwyn returns to his cock, taking him in her mouth again. Solas gasps her name. She uses her hand around the base of his cock, pumping along with sucking, stimulating his whole hard length. Solas bucks into her mouth and she now lets him, urging him on. His cock hit the back of her throat, and she swallows and sucks.

She thinks he is close, and she pulls back again, letting him slip from her mouth. His hips keep moving, his erection seeking friction that isn’t there. She kisses the inside of his thigh again.

“Please, please, I need…”

“What do you need, Solas?”

She wraps her hand around his cock, and doesn’t move it.

“I need, I need to come. Please. I need you.”

Iwyn lets her fangs out, pricking his skin. Solas words turn to moans, incoherent pleading. She pumps his cock, impossible hard, with her fist, and drags her fangs down to where she can feel his pulse, stuttering and wild.

She bites, rich blood coating her tongue. Solas screams, and comes, hot spend covering her hand. She drinks, a few more sips while he is pulsing and trashing in her hand. She’s careful, withdrawing her fangs and licking her lips. She clamps a hand over the wounds, tight, and seals them. Solas looks dazed and perfect. She licks his softening cock, the taste of his cum mixing with his blood.

“You taste delicious.”

“Fuck,” he says, and his cock twitches.

“Again?”

Solas chuckles and shakes his head. Iwyn nestles next to him, and kisses his shoulder. After a little while, he squeezes her shoulder, and sits up.

“I think I better go clean up a little.”

She lounges in his bed, naked and satisfied for now. The bedroom is cozy, despite the tall white wardrobe looking generically modern. There’s a drawer too, and a bookcase, filled with books with no apparently organization. A thick book on ancient Qunari architecture next to a novel by an author she doesn’t know. Something that looks like a finance textbook next to a biography called Scandals, Sex, Paint: The Life of Michel de Bordelon. Iwyn itches to organize it, but at least there’s not clothes strewn all over, except the ones they discarded last night and this morning. There are more books stacked on top of the wardrobe, along with a glass jar filled with a fairy light string. It’s surprisingly whimsical, yet another unexpected side of him.

When Solas returns, he’s brought his easel, pencils, and sketchbook.

“May I draw you again?”

“Of course.”

She’s pleased she inspires him, she finds it incredibly flattering. If she’s honest, she also enjoys the blush that spreads across his cheekbones when he asks. He looks a little shy, as if it’s somehow more scandalous to draw her nude than for her to suck his blood while he comes all over himself. It’s endearing, and she is happy to pose.

He doesn’t bother to dress, and sketches quickly, his eyes roaming over her as he commits her to paper. He pulls a sheet off the sketchbook, and she stretches.

“Come back to bed,” she says. She wants him next to her.

Solas puts down his pencils, and comes to her. She kisses him, full of need.

“I am not certain I’m up for another round just yet,” he says. “But I did promise to sate your hunger.”

“If you’re willing,” she says. The sex, his gaze on her has left her hungry in more sense than one. She wants him in every way.

“You can do whatever you want,” he says.

She scrapes her teeth against his neck. “You really shouldn’t say that.”

“Please.”

She cannot resist his begging. She bites, his rich blood flowing across he lips. Solas groans, far off and loud. She sucks his sweetness up while he shudders in her arms, grasping the sheets beneath him. He doesn’t try to stop her, and she has to slow herself down. She doesn’t want to.

She allows herself to be careless with the wounds. Maybe if she leaves her marks, he’ll be protected form others of her kind. He is too careless with himself, that’s all. It has nothing to do with the heady feeling of him being scarred by her, forever.

She nestles closer to him, and he sighs, delirious. She makes him drink some water before he falls asleep again.

Iwyn gets up. She feels awake and powerful, full of his life and blood. She peeks at the easel, at herself looking sultry out of the page. Or hungry. She cannot allow herself to stay, to sleep, no matter how easy it is to be with him, no matter how much he fascinates her. Leaving herself vulnerable is too risky. Once was enough.

She looks back at Solas. He looks innocent, beautiful. She wishes she could paint him, sharp angles and pale skin and bloodred marks at his throat and thighs.

Iwyn worries about him, too. She knows there are mortals like that. The chasers. Those who wants to flirt with danger or with death. Those who crave the high of a vampire’s bite. Or worse, those who are drawn to the idea of immortal life, who does not understand the agony of the vast, cold eternity. A coldness he could chase away, a small voice offers inside of her, if he joined you at your side. She shakes her head. He does not deserve that. Neither did she, but she can’t change that.

She doesn’t take him for a vamp chaser, but his behavior, his eagerness is concerning. A bright flash of jealousy at the thought of him finding someone else to satisfy him, someone else tasting him. She can only hope to dissuade him, and to remind him to live his life to the fullest.

Iwyn covers him tenderly with a blanket. She needs to leave, somehow, before she does something she’ll regret forever.

Solas wakes, and the first he knows is that he is alone. Maybe Iwyn left the bed. He isn’t sure how much sleep vampires need, just as he isn’t sure how long he has slept.

His clock says 13:23, so he has only dozed a little over an hour. He gets up, and stops at his easel, Iwyn lounging and looking at him seductively. His hands itches to take the sketch and the pose to a large canvas, giant and larger than life, just like the way she barged into his bed.

“Iwyn,” he calls. Maybe she is in the kitchen or living room, but no one answers. He notices both her dress and his sweater are missing, as he pulls on his shirt and boxers.

“Iwyn!”

In the hallway, her shoes are gone. In the kitchen, a folded piece of paper against a half-drunk cup of coffee.

He sits.

He folds it open.

Solas,

Thank you for last night, and this morning. It was wonderful. I’m sorry for my sudden departure, but I must walk away. Had I stayed, I fear I would have wanted more from you. That you would have given me more than you already have.

You’re a wonderful man, Solas. You do not belong in the shadow. I care about you, more than I probably should.

I know your life seems troubled right now, and I worry this clouds your judgement. If you had been awake, you would have asked me stay, and I would have. I’m not a nice person, Solas. I’m a vampire, selfish and immoral. You should remember that. At some point, I would want to drag you into to darkness, or you would want to follow me. I can only be strong once. I wanted to stay in your embrace, to get to know you better, but you don’t deserve that. My life is in the dark, and so is my path. You can’t follow.

You deserve to live your life, beautiful and in the sun. Continue painting, drawing. You can give so much to world, and please do. Someone can give you what you deserve, and someone will.

Please take care of yourself, Solas. Don’t try to find me, and please do not seek out other vampires. No more inviting strangers to your house!

Goodbye and live well.

Yours,

Iwyn of Clan Lavellan

#solavellan #solavellan au #iwyn x solas #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age au #vampire au #I just love solas saying please #can you tell #an update after many years #I got inspired #viking writes #published 9/12/2021

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