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#he wears leather boots everywhere he goes

cupidscrule · 4 months

Text

BLACK CAT

Leon X Fem! reader

P in V, smut

[ no tw, vanillaish idk ]

1.2k wrd

”Woah, woah, slow down” Leon chuckled as you started explaining another cool story to him.

Your relationship was like the definition of a black cat and a golden retriever. You always have so much energy and are nice to almost everyone. Leon on the other hand is a tough agent who doesn’t really enjoy showing much emotion. He’s pretty stern towards others— but his softspot for you is clear.

”Okay, i’m listening. Tell me” He said while you were walking together with your fingers interlocked.

"okay okay! So THEN after Fluttershy wrote an entire song, rainbow dash just decides to throw it out? Ugh she's such a bitch. Don't you agree? I mean her friend went through all the trouble to try and get them to win the battle of the bands but she's so selfish.." you said, going on about a children's movie. You loved cute things, hello kitty, my little pony, really anything a 12 year old girl would be obsessed with, wearing cute little outfits and rambling about pointless stuff. But hey it made you happy and Leon thought it was adorable

"Mhm, yeah, so selfish" Leon couldn’t help but chuckle a little about how into the movie she was. by now he knew EVERYTHING about these stupid colourful horses, rainbowdash, fluttershy, twilight, pinkie, apple jack, list goes on. Honestly from what he knew rarity seemed like the best- I mean she was a boss bitch.

He found the whole thing pretty amusing, you were just so excited about it and he’s glad you have stuff you're so.. passionate about

"I mean, it would probably get annoying if her friend just wasted all that effort right? " He said trying to show his interest in her story.

"exactly! Ugh finally you get it" you said smiling up to him, leaning closer into his side as you two walked down back home, it was a long day. Like REALLY long, you took Leon shopping, got your nails done, bought some new skirts, and a new album. All that sort of stuff, but y'know dragging Leon aside you cause someone had to carry the shit, you were gettin really close to the outside of your house, skipping beside Leon holding hands. Life was like a dream.

But the long day out had Leon pretty tired— he had to drag a lot of your stuff around and you insisted they go to multiple stores (you tried to be nice and let him pick something out but he was too tired and grumpy, I know right such a dick head?)

When you were about to arrive home, he looked at you as you skipped around excitedly and smiled softly. Despite what he’s put through, he can’t deny that he finds your behavior adorable.

He squeezed your hand and chuckled a little before you guys got in front of your door.

"Oo Leon tomorrow we should watch rainbow rocks, then you'll understand what I'm talking about better" you say giggling as you step into your house, taking off your little boots and walking away from Leon plopping your ass on the leather sofa, even if you were like if you gave a six year old crack mixed with sour gummy worms even you could get kinda tired. Right, ain't that surprising? Little princess bitch face getting tired, after crawling over Leon like a little kid and skipping everywhere, runnin, jumping, god doing everything known to fucken man kind

“don’t know if we’ll have the time because of..” Leon muttered under his breath, he didn’t want to upset you and ruin your mood when you’re so excited.

He walked over to the couch and sat beside you silently and just observed you as you started talking about the movie. He placed a hand over your thigh, brushing up and down just silently smiling hearing you decribe your weird ass fictional horse people argue with other creatures from mythology, honestly sometimes he wondered if you needed to be checked into a mental hospital. Little grippy sock princess

“Wellll, maybe we can watch it tomorrow..” He shrugged. “I mean, i’ll do anything you want” Leon chuckled looking over at you.

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, his body was pretty warm given how hot the day was and his arm was pretty comfortable.

He kissed you forehead before wrapping his other arm around you, squeezing you a little. You loved when he was affectionate, but not in a creepy way, a cute way. But after a long day a girl can get a bit needy, like sue me but when you have a hot ass man cradling you and taking you everywhere, GOD it's like an angel is sent from heaven to fuck you. But fuck you in a good homemade porno way, not one of thoes shitty ones with a whole plotline. Just straight raw fucking

You turn around, breaking his grip on you before climbing onto his lap, placing yourself onto his thigh "Woah Woah, calm down- y'know I'm tire-" he was trying to speak, silly men. You land a big fat kiss on his lips to shut him up, slowly moving yourself on his thigh, pulling away from him getting a breath, saliva dripping down your face like an animal, staring at him in the eyes, his face slightly shocked you made the first move. But you felt something perk up, bingo. Always know what can make your man want ya

"God I can't just stare at your handsome face and do nothing-" you mutter under your breath, pushing yourself closer into him, kissing his face like a big ol' dog, your free hand finding its way to his jean zipper, undoing it his fat dick springing up, he grabs you by your hips, pulling your panties aside, slapping you onto his cock, a groan coming from his lips, honestly didn't expect the day to end like this, went from talkin ponies to getting your brains fucked out. Like a good girl you ride him, his hands are placed on your hips moving you at a decent pase, bit fast but he did do A LOT of work today, guess he deserves it. Nothing else in the world matters right now, euphoric feeling, he thrusted up into you, taking one hand off your hip and grabbing your face, making you look at him, god his eyes make you MELT. He could take care of you, he was real nice with it. He groped your tits sometimes in public, but just made you love him more.

You're at your high, he knows that. Few more thrusts and you whine, feeling your body melt like butter, your weight collapses onto him, but he's not done practically druling on him, limp body he keeps fucken like a doll, if you still have a tight pussy thats all that matters, few moments and he finishes, pressing you down onto him, filling your cervix, still collapsed on him both of you breathen all heavy. "So babydoll, what happened next?" He groaned, a sly ass smirk on his face. "Mm that cunt rainbow got put in her place and they play fluttershys song" you mutter, pushing on his fat chest, rollin off him like a little kid, pussy dripping. His pants stained with you, and a heavy chest.

"I wanna-"

"No"

"Pleaseee"

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multi-fandom-friend · 4 months

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“Let’s do something fun, yeah?” “Like what?” “Let’s go to a rave” “You’re Joking”

COME GET YOUR FOOD UOU SIMPS. so I got this idea from an artist named @razorsystem on here. They had art of Jason and crew in rave outfits, and being a part of rave culture myself, and the little voice in my brain annoying me until I wrote this, this now exists. Enjoy loves! TW FOR FLASHING LIGHTS AND BRIGHT COLORS ON THE DIVIDER AND FOR THEMES OF DRINKING AND BIG CROWDS

🦇Bruce🦇

🦇 when you first asked him to go? It went a little like this

🦇 “Hey Brucie?” “Jesus, I know that tone. You want something.” “Can we pleaaaase go to a rave?” “Absolutely not” “why?” “I’m too old for that. Drinking? Dancing? Flashing lights? Not my thing.” 🦇 you being you? You convinced him. And he got outfits. Pretty expensive ones too but he’s a hot millionaire what did you expect?

🦇 Once you got there he was a little uncomfortable but once he had a drink and started dancing with you? He was fine. He kept his guard up, of course, but he was fine. 🦇 on your way home he stopped and made you two get pizza and everyone in the pizzeria was looking at you two. A 6 something foot tall scary dad aged man and his partner sticking onto his arm as they giggled together in a bright colored rave outfit

🥀Jason Todd🥀

🥀 when you first asked him he was so confused as to what a rave even was

🥀 “Hey Jaybird?” “Yes, love?” “There’s a rave tonight, wanna go?” “What the hell is a rave?” “What’s a— Jason? How have you never heard of a rave? It’s basically a party with a bunch of bright colors, lots of loud music with even more bass in it, and good vibes. Wanna go?” “Will there be lots of people” “…..yeah?” “I dunno. Maybe.” 🥀 Just like his dad he’s hesitant, but he goes eventually. He probably had more fun than you did if we’re being honest. 🥀 y’all got there and he was having the time of his fucking life. And he didn’t wanna tell you but he loved the outfits you two were wearing, but he hated the thigh high latex boots with a small heel that you made him wear. It’s not that they were “too girly” or anything because he doesn’t think clothes have gender he just didn’t entirely understand how to walk without looking like he had a pole up his ass, so you had to teach him. 🥀 once he got the walking down pat, he could dance with you. He didn’t wanna drink because he still had to keep his guard up and walking in these shoes are hard enough sober just in case. 🥀 he made you two leave a little early but you had fun nonetheless. He ordered takeout and you picked it up on the way home.

💎Dickhead Grayson💎

💎 Immediately said yes.

💎 “Hey bluejay? Wanna go to a rave toni-“ “yes. A thousand times yes.” 💎 and then he showed you a photo of him at a rave when he was younger. 💎 You couldn’t believe your eyes. Your Bluejay in short shorts, a latex shirt and leather harness with platform boots and glitter coating his body was in that photo. 💎 then he got dressed and jesus fuckin Christ he looked awesome. Glittery, but awesome. He helped you get dressed and then sprayed you down with iridescent glitter spray that got in your mouth and everywhere glitter probably shouldn’t be

💎 once you got there, he grabbed drinks for you both and started dancing with you immediately. He had so much fun

💎 he still made you both leave early, just for safety reasons. 💎 he also got pizza with you and you two were standing there like two giddy hyenas. Like seriously. You both couldn’t stop laughing for a good 25 minutes.

🐍 Damian Wayne🐍

🐍 it took so much convincing and so much prodding but you got him to break. 🐍 “But Damieeeee!” “No.” “Come on! I promise you’ll have fun!” “Nope.” “Pleaaaase?” 🐍 you did your pouty face and he broke. 🐍 he got his dad to buy you both outfits and you went

🐍 hated how many people there were. Hated it. So much. But you started dancing with him and he calmed down instantly

🐍 you both left after about an hour and went home, he needed a good pair of very loose sweatpants and a very loose shirt, and a good long cuddle session and he was all better.

A/N hi y’all! If you could follow me or even like this post that would be highly appreciated. Thank you!

#batfam #damian wayne #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #batfam headcanons

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alexkaneinq · 19 days

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Rabbit's Greed

Rating: Explicit

Contents: Wolf/Bunny, shifters, size difference, rimming, anal sex, knotting, multiple orgasms, praise kink, prostate milking. Light belly bulge, cum inflation, scent kink.

Word Count: 7,423

As a rabbit shifter, Boyd has never been taken seriously in the village. Of course he hasn't been. He's small, barely reaching five foot two, thin as a rail everywhere except his strong legs, and barely noticeable around his brother and sister who took after their ox father. He is small, and like all other small shifters, he is overlooked by most.

And that is perfectly fine by him. No one gives attention to a small bunny darting around large rooms filled with bigger shifters as the evening of revelry starts in the tavern. The Dusty Firefly is a huge tavern, with the first level holding the main bar, the second holding a few private rooms for rent as well as the place where the high-rollers hold their games separate from the common hands of cards and dice that people get up to in the corners of the first level. And the third floor has the rest of the rentable rooms for travelers going through the city. It's a large, lively place where plenty of other creatures come for a night of indulgence, to find companionship, and gamble-- and it's a place where a small, plain rabbit can go unnoticed as he slips through the crowds and slices coin purses from belts.

He's careful, he's been doing this for six years now, and he only ever takes a few coins from each before dropping the pouch near their feet so that when they stand to leave the table, or bar, they find the rest on the floor. Usually they look startled, sheepish maybe, that something like that could happen, relieved that they didn't end up losing the thing entirely, enough so, that if they do notice a bit of money missing, they think it must have been scattered to the floor, and are mostly grateful that more wasn't lost. Boyd hasn't made a name for himself as a thief because he is a rabbit, he is small, and skittish, and incapable of being a threat-- or even an annoyance-- to most other large shifters from predator to prey. That suits him just fine. No one pays him any attention and they can go on pretending that the money he gets selling baskets at market is what lets him live in his little apartment.

Tonight, he knows, will be a good one because spring is right around the corner. Deer have grown their antlers, and everyone is awake from their winter slumber if they chose to slip into it, and they are all desperate to find someone to spend time with in the coming weeks to sate their instincts. Which means that the Firefly will be stuffed to the brim with people who are already too distracted to focus on anything other than finding a partner. He ignores his own need as he prepares for the night. He doesn't have a taste for other rabbits, especially doe, given he doesn't want children or anyone else peeking in on the little life he's carved out for himself. He still makes sure that he puts a bit of effort into his appearance for the night, wearing a loose, open top of pale olive green to make the green bursts in his hazel eyes stand out a bit more, and carefully mussing his curls so that they look appealingly tousled instead of wild, and puts on a pair of dark, tighter trousers that he tucks into his boots before tucking his shirt into the pants so that it bunches up artfully. His belt goes around his waist with his own small leather pouch that hooks with another leather buckle to the accessory, and his daggers, with their blades so small that they're barely as long as his pinky, are slipped into little bracers hidden under his sleeves. He forgoes a cloak even though the early spring air is still chilled, and heads off to the Dusty Firefly.

///

He had been absolutely underestimating how busy it was going to be at the tavern. But in his defense, he really, really didn't know that a new herd of deer would be coming through the town alongside a large pack of wolves. Having so many new faces means he's far less worried about being noticed than he usually is, and as Boyd makes his way through the bar, he manages to take a great deal more coin than he usually manages. By halfway through the evening he thinks he's gotten enough gold to live comfortably in his home for two months. Enough, that it is definitely an unwise risk when he spots one of the wolves stepping in to break up a fight between two stags, both hands away from his sides, his attention clearly away from anything else going on around him, and his purse abandoned at his table with a few of his packmates who are also trying to step in before anyone gets gored.

Boyd darts around the growing conflict and manages to get to the table. There's enough of a commotion that he just gets his hand in the bag and palms a few of the coins. He's fully intending to move away then, but he realizes, with some shock, that the shape of the coins is different. That the half-full pouch is not filled with the round gold coins with the circle in the center, but hexagonal ones with a square. Platinum. Not gold. It's recklessness that has him reaching again, distraction over the possibility of such a big score that leaves him unaware of his surroundings. And when one of the stags goes crashing through the table, he yelps as he's knocked back.

His elbow hits the floor hard and the pain sends his instincts screaming to run, but he's not the only one on the floor from the fight getting so out of hand, and he doesn't want to draw any more attention to himself. Especially not when he sees one of his daggers has slipped from its brace and is laying among the shattered remains of the table.

The two of the wolves alongside Oliver, a fox who works as a bouncer, gets the two stags off the floor and starts to get them out of the building. He's not expecting the third to offer him a hand.

"Are you alright?" The wolf is easily six feet tall. Moon and stars, he might be seven as Boyd looks up, and up, and up, at him even as he crouches down to help him. He has olive-toned skin with a shock of wavy grayish hair that blends into the fur across his ears that is a mix of blacks and browns. A Gray Wolf then, with dark eyes, a long curved nose, and high cheekbones. Pretty features, but when he opens his mouth to speak, Boyd can see the large dangerous teeth glinting behind his lips.

"Uh, I'm okay." He doesn't dare reach for his dagger, instead taking the offered hand and holding the platinum clutched in his other tight. His hand is tiny in the other man's, and as he's pulled up, he pretends that the wolf underestimated his strength and stumbles into him. "Oh!" His head barely comes up to the bottom of his sternum, and he very quickly slips the pilfered coins into his own purse before he starts to straighten up. It's not a surprise to feel the hard planes of muscle beneath the other man's shirt, but they are noticeable as he pushes away carefully. "I'm sorry!"

"It's fine, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, that was just startling!" He says, bringing his voice a little higher and letting his ears droop back to lay against his hair. He looks up at the wolf with wide-eyes, brings his hands in front of himself to fiddle nervously. "T-thank you for your help." Cute bunny things. A nervous prey animal who probably shouldn't be talked to any more out of fear of startling him further.

But the wolf ignores it as the others start to get their cloaks and pouches out from beneath the rubble. "I'm Nicolas. Let me buy you a drink for the trouble?"

"Oh, I don't think that's necessary-- it wasn't your fault."

"Then let me buy you a drink so I have an excuse to keep talking to you?"

He feels his face heat slightly. Of all of the people to get noticed by. He's about to decline again when he sees one of the others pick up his knife out of the corner of his eye. "Okay," He agrees.

The wolf, Nicolas, picks up his coin purse and smiles at him, a little crooked, his mouth closed to hide those sharp teeth, and ignores his packmates who are still sorting through the rubble for lost coins. "And who am I drinking with?"

"...Boyd." He gives over the name reluctantly as they start to move over to the bar. One drink. Then he'll escape before the wolf has a chance to confer with his packmates and notice the missing coins. With how much platinum he's gotten from the wolf, he'll buy a new dagger.

///

Nicolas buys him a drink, getting an ale for himself, and they find a little corner of the bar to talk in. And they do talk. The wolf seems to want to get to know him, and asks about the village, his interests, his occupation as a weaver, and anything else he can learn. Boyd does his best to give simple, shy answers as he sips at his much smaller cup. A small cup for a small creature, and one that he can tell has been heavily watered down. He could have three of these before he even started to feel flushed. But he's just a little rabbit. Surely the bartender, an owl who Boyd thinks must be filling the vacancy for Tara, is doing right by such a small animal who's been cornered by a predator like Nicolas.

The wolf, who is personable, and willing enough to give information about his life in turn. Their pack is actually three, soon to be five, consisting of his grandparents, parents, and he and his sister who both are at the age where they're going to be breaking away to find mates of their own . Hence the sudden departure from their normal hunting grounds and traveling from the wild forest and mountains stretching across this part of the country, and to populated cities. They normally don't see the other packs unless it's for a celebration like a wedding or the birth of a new pup.

"If your grandparents are expecting to see you mated by the end of the season, shouldn't you be looking for a mate, not wasting your time with a rabbit?" He offers sweetly.

"I don't think this is a waste of my time." He says in immediate response. "I'm enjoying talking to you. I hope that you don't think I'm wasting yours."

"You aren't," Just making it more uncomfortable the longer he lingers as he notices the weight of his coin purse more and more. "I just don't want to keep you from finding the love of your life. We have a pack here too, I'm sure that there's a wolf among them who could be a good match for you."

"Who said I was looking for a wolf?"

His face goes very hot as he fumbles for something to say in response. He's never been interested in other rabbits, the only partners he's ever taken were a sparrow and a gopher, both prey and both near his own size. Predators and prey are already an uncommon coupling, but the sheer size of the wolf-- well, he supposes his parents made that work, but it's nearly as whispered about as a wolf and a rabbit going to bed together would be. "I--" he doesn't know if he's going to decline the thinly veiled offer or not, and he doesn't get the chance to make that decision for himself.

"Boyd?" His brother's voice and shadow fall over the table suddenly, his tail flicking with his agitation when he sees that he's sharing it with a predator.

"Hey, Jon." He doesn't usually come to the Dusty Firefly, preferring to stay out by the fields and the bonfires there for his revelry.

"You ready to head home?" Jon says, reaching for his arm. Trying to get him away from this 'dangerous' stranger. "Come on, I'll walk you."

He bristles and pulls his arm back before those much larger fingers can close around it and take away his choice. "No, I haven't finished my drink, or my conversation, yet. I'm good." He only realizes in hindsight how bad of an idea that was. He was supposed to be looking for a reason to bail. But his brother's condescension immediately made him lose sight of his goals.

"Boyd--"

"He said he isn't finished." Nicolas tells him evenly.

"He's my brother--"

"I don't see why that means you get to ignore what he said." Nicolas turns his attention back to him. "But I have taken up a lot of your evening, and if you'd like to leave, you're welcome to."

Take the out, take the out, take the out-- "I thought you were interested in taking up all of my night too?" The wolf's ears perk up slightly. As his brother tenses further. He barely glances at him. "See you later." Unlikely. He avoids going to their family farm now that he's got a place of his own. His brother looks like he's going to make a fuss, but Nicolas growls softly, and even as big as his brother is, he's still a prey animal himself. He bristles and pales, and Boyd takes a sip of his watery drink to hide how that sound makes him tremble slightly as well. Jon gives him one last glance before he disappears into the crowd, though Boyd is fairly certain he'll be back with their sister if she's here as well, or someone else he thinks can extract him from this situation.

Nicolas watches his brother go before turning back to him. "I am going to see if there are still any rooms available. Whether or not you'd like to share it with me will depend on if you're still here when I come back. And if you're not," his voice is gentle, his grip very careful as he takes his hand in his own, "Then I had a nice time anyway." His lips press to the back of his palm lightly and he is struck again by how much smaller he is than the other man.

"Okay." He sounds a little breathless as he says it, but Nicolas doesn't linger. He smiles at him, and then lets go and slips away from the table. Okay. Get up and go. Leave right now and hope that there are so many people in here that he didn't catch his scent and won't notice when his coin purse is so light.

He stays right where he is, finishing his drink in two gulps. It's so watery it barely burns. Nicolas is a nearly seven foot tall predator, he reminds himself frantically. Not only did he steal from him, but he is a wolf on top of that, and wolves have extra features he should worry about on top of the claws, and strength, and teeth. He should leave right now. Leave, leave, leave.

When the wolf comes back to the table with a large iron key in hand, his tail wags a bit behind him as his smile returns, slow and smooth, and his eyes linger on his body. He offers his other hand and he needs to leave. He takes it instead.

///

The walk upstairs is blanked from his mind entirely. There's a constant whine in the back of his head of thin panic because he is a rabbit and this is a wolf and he should not be preparing to sleep with him. But he goes upstairs anyway. Goes into the darkened room of the inn, only big enough to hold a water basin, wardrobe, and bed, the sounds of activity still filtering up from the floors below. He hesitates as the door shuts behind him, but when Nicolas steps into his space, when he catches his chin between his fingers, and his claws just barely touch that thin, soft skin, a shiver goes through him and the other man pauses when he feels him tremble, looking worried.

He's spent his whole life with other people 'protecting' him from making his own choices. Becoming a thief had been a dangerous one that he ended up taking for himself. This one is a little more dangerous, a little more stupid, but he takes it for himself when he gets up on his tiptoes so that he can get his hands in the loose collar of the other's tunic and pulls as much as he can. Nicolas makes it easier for him, wrapping his other arm around his waist and pulling him up, until his toes aren't even touching the ground, and seals their lips together.

The dull heat of spring feels like it's gone from inert kindling to a flame spilling out across his entire body as the wolf kisses him. He shifts his grip, moving one arm to around his waist, but the other hand catches one of his thighs and uses that to hoist him higher like he doesn't weigh anything at all. Boyd adjusts his grip too, trying to hold on a little tighter as the press of their lips turns into tongues moving against one another and he feels consumed as it happens. His instincts scream at him to run when his tongue is coaxed behind such big, sharp teeth. Teeth that were made to tear into flesh. He has never enjoyed feeling small or fragile, but this-- this puts a need beneath his skin that he's never felt before.

He moans as he's easily carried over to the bed, Nicolas sitting on the edge and situating him in his lap. The blush spilling out across his face feels impossibly hot as he's forced to spread his legs so wide around the other's muscled thighs as he's left straddling him. One hand stays on his back to keep him steady, but the other goes to his tail, easily enveloping the entire thing in his palm and squeezing and stroking the soft fur and sending a bolt up his spine that has him gasping. He hears the other's tail swishing against the sheets,

"Does that feel good, bunny?" So good as he keeps doing it that his cock is stirring already. He nods weakly, leaning back in and being given a kiss immediately, this time the wolf licking behind his teeth as he keeps playing with his tail. He's not thinking as he shifts in the other's lap, trying to push his tail back into those touches, pressing back and bringing his pelvis down harder in his lap as a result and letting him feel the start of the wolf's arousal as well. Just the start of it and he already feels a big that Boyd loses any coherent thought for a moment. Nic hums low in the back of his throat using the grip on his tail as leverage to pull him even closer, until Boyd's rapidly hardening cock is doing so against his stomach, and the predator can grind his up against the swell of his ass.

"Ah," he gasps, his instincts going haywire as the scent of the other man starts to fill his nose now that they're away from the crowd downstairs. Musky, earthy, and... violent. Something in that smell that reminds him of blood even though there hasn't been any spilled between them. His claws are held carefully, his teeth never even chancing a light nip. But that smell is there as Nic noses down his neck and his tongue laves over his skin.

"I'm going to eat you up, little bunny."

That should not make him moan. It really, really, shouldn't. But it does as the wolf lets go of his tail so that he can pull his shirt from his pants. Yeah, okay, this is definitely happening. His hands tremble a little as he starts to pull at Nic's shirt too, tugging open the laces of the vest over his tunic to loosen it, but he can't take it off, not when the other's hands are so insistent as they pull his shirt over his head. He expects his ears to get tangled and pulled on-- it's happened every other time he's gone to bed with someone-- but the other catches the ends of them carefully as he pulls away the shirt. He can't resist keeping hold of one though, holding it between his fingers and stroking along the velvet soft fur along them, and Boyd shivers again at that sensation, at the feeling of the predator's large, dangerous hand against such a delicate part of his anatomy.

"Do you need me to slow down, Boyd?" Nic murmurs, his other hand resting against his chest once his shirt has been tossed to the floor. His shirt that was covering his bracers. Boyd tries to make his brain work through his lust and quickly wraps his arms around the other man's neck, undoing the buckles as he speaks.

"I'm not glass. I can handle anything you give me, puppy." It's enormous talk given that he's never had someone like Nicolas before, but it has his eyes darkening and the hand on his ears going to the base where they connect to his skull and giving an enticing, little tug that puts a delicious ache beneath his skin. He nearly forgets what he's doing, but he leans in and noses up under the wolf's chin to where his scent is strongest. To where, he's been told, they bite each other to become mates. It's incredibly reckless when he licks his skin, tasting the faint tang of sweat and that overwhelming woodsy scent on his tongue, before he skims his teeth over his skin.

Nic goes stiff under him and he thinks he's overstepped hesitating dropping the bracers off the other side of the bed in case he needs the tiny knife-- and then he has a hand around his hip and he's pulling him down against him roughly as his hips grind up so he can feel how hard his cock is now. Boyd moans, fumbling and dropping the bracers anyway, but he forgets to care as he's pulled back into another hard kiss as Nicolas shrugs out of his vest and tunic.

The muscle he'd felt beneath is curved across his chest and down his arms, the skin puckered and scraped with scars from a life, he assumes, of fighting. No wonder he hadn't blinked as he'd broken up the fight downstairs. He doesn't get a chance to enjoy the view for long because the wolf is catching his hips and pulling him up, closer, so that he can get his hand on his belt and pull that loose as his mouth seals over his neck where he doesn't have a matching scent gland. It doesn't seem to bother the wolf as he presses his teeth to his skin and sharp nips and bites make his skin tingle and him whimper in the other's lap as he's coaxed out of the rest of his clothing.

When he's naked in the other's lap, his cock is hard and curving up against his stomach, and he's never felt so vulnerable. He doesn't know if he's ever been this hot either as he whimpers and tries to get his hands into the other's pants as well, not wanting to be cowed. His cock is so big, as it presses against him, and his hands feel way too small as he gets them to his belt and button.

But he doesn't get further than that, because Nic grabs him around his hips and moves him like he weighs nothing. The wind is knocked out of him as his back hits the mattress and then the wolf is blocking out the rest of the world as he braces himself above him. "You smell so good, bunny." The words nearly a purr as they leave him, as he moves down his body, mouth first going to his neck as his hands curl around the soft skin of his inner thighs as he holds them open wider than he even knew he could spread them, just to make room for the other man. "Tell me if you don't like something." The words breathed against his skin as he kisses across his chest, down his flat stomach, along his thighs.

He whimpers when his mouth goes to his hole, his tongue licking a wide stripe over him. His mouth feels so hot as it touches him there, pleasure surging like lightning beneath his skin and making him cry out as one hand clutches in the sheets and the other tangles in his thick hair. The wolf hums approvingly and licks at him again, getting him drenched in his saliva, as his tongue moves over and around his entrance, flicking and teasing at the ring of muscles until he's moaning and his hips are trying to twitch weakly in his strong grasp to try and get more. Never had someone give him their tongue over their fingers, but as he moves he feels the prickle of his claws against him again and he supposes that he doesn't have much of a choice in it if he doesn't want to tear him open on his cock.

But Nic doesn't seem to begrudge the task. No, the way he licks at him, the soft growls and chuffs that are breathed against his skin as his tongue prods at his center, testing how relaxed his muscles are, seem pleased. Like he's getting pleasure just from being between his legs. His body opens for the other man and the tip of his long tongue slips inside, and Boyd's hand tightens in his hair as his moans pitch louder. Stars, his tongue is so big. It was already big in his mouth, but inside of his hole, fuck, he thinks he's had cocks that were smaller. His cock is drooling against his stomach steadily and he lets go of the sheets, his need so great that he has to have a touch there to go with the ones that are moving inside of him. Each little lick inside, he pulls out a bit before feeding his tongue deeper on the next. His fist goes around his prick as the other man's tongue goes deep enough to find that sensitive gland inside of him and Boyd cries out,

"Nic!" His hips trying to jump hard in his grip.

The wolf looks up at him from between his legs and sees him stroking himself and growls against his skin. He thinks, for a moment, that he's going to tell him to stop, but he doesn't. If anything, as he watches him stroking himself, the wolf eats him out more voraciously. Encouraged by the response, he gathers his pre that has dripped all over his stomach and uses that to make his skin slick, before he wraps his fingers back around himself. He strokes himself and in turn, Nicolas laps inside of him. His hand moves a bit faster along his shaft, and his nerves sing as that pressure inside his body is mirrored by the other's tongue. The wolf lets him set the pace, and soon he's stroking himself roughly, the grip on his thighs shifting to his hips, fingers curving around nearly to the small of his back, and holding him up so that he's practically riding the other's face, even while he's still on his back.

It doesn't take long for him to feel like he's going to shatter apart after that, the sounds of his pleasure so loud in the room that he can't hear the noise from the bar below anymore. His balls draw tight as he strokes himself faster, tighter, and Nic matches that by pushing his tongue in deep and moving it constantly against his prostate until everything snaps in a sharp crescendo of ecstasy that sends his release spilling halfway up his chest and leaves him gasping for breath. Stars dance behind his eyes as his cock pulses with the sensation and his insides clench weakly around his tongue. Nic licks and laps at his skin as he moans and trembles through his orgasm, until he whines weakly, his ears twitching, as it goes from good to too much in a matter of seconds as he starts to come down from the high.

Then the other man pulls back, giving one last lick to his stretched, dripping hole before murmuring, "Gorgeous, little bun."

He is too starved of breath to offer anything other than a weak moan, as the other moves up his body again, hands staying beneath him to lift his lower half higher so that his weight is easily held up against the wolves thick thighs as they slip beneath him. His mouth goes to his stomach and he licks up his release with another growl as Boyd feels his cock pressing up against the cleft of his ass. He doesn't try to push inside, but he ruts himself between his skin, and he gets even wetter as he feels the wolf's hot pre mixing with his cooling spit. Boyd moans softly, trying to get his heavy limbs coordinated enough to rock back into the motions, even as his brain starts to try and ring alarm bells as he feels how big the other man is against him. He's never had anything so big inside of him before. He doesn't even know if it's possible for a cock of that size to fit. As Nicolas kisses him, his mouth covered in the taste of him, Boyd decides he doesn't care. He would die to try it.

"Are you ready, bunny?"

"Please," he pleads, reaching back to get a hold of the headboard as the wolf's eyes flash with his want.

"Such a good boy, asking so sweetly." He presses a kiss to his cheek and that, of all things, is what he feels makes his blush go hotter again. As the sweet words also make his spent cock ache sharply with the desire to fill again. Then he pulls back a bit, enough that he can see what he's doing as he gets his hips lifted high, his legs supporting his weight, as he wraps a hand around his own cock. Fuck, fuck, he's even bigger than he'd felt, easily twice as thick as himself, nearly as long as his forearm, his head flushed dark and drooling pre, a pretty winding of veins tangled beneath that velvet skin. Definitely bigger than anything he's had inside of him before, and he wants him so badly now, that he can't possibly tighten with his nerves. The other man reaches off the side of the bed and he hears him rustle through their shed clothing before he comes back with a small bottle of oil that he smears over his length before he brings his head to his hole.

A soft whimper leaves him as he starts to push inside. The oil, his pre, his spit, all ease the way, but his muscles twitch and flutter as they're made to spread wider than they ever have before. He lets out a soft, scared chitter as he wonders if he really will be torn open around the intrusion. But Nicolas, even though he's already been so patient, even when he must be desperate for his own release, goes slowly. He makes his own soft, comforting chuffs and coos as he strokes his skin carefully with big, dangerous hands that could rend his flesh. He kisses his lips, his cheeks, his forehead. Leans in and licks along his ears.

Boyd moans loudly as his head fully breeches him, sending a dizzying pressure all along his nerves that is so intoxicating he almost forgets that the wolf is submitting to him as he grooms his ears. He can't keep it together then, his claws scraping across the headboard. His cock is so big inside of him and he forgets how to breathe as it keeps pressing deeper and deeper inside. No, it's not that he forgets, it's that there's no room left inside him for breath. All of the air is pressed out of his lings as he goes deeper and deeper until-- until--

Boyd keens as he sees a bump appear in his stomach. So big that the outline of his cock is visible through his insides. He's pretty sure that his brain melts out of his ears then. All he can do is moan and whimper, voice cracking on a sob as his cock swells again and his pleasure goes so blinding even though the other man hasn't even moved.

"Nic, Nic, Nic," he babbles, tears slipping over his cheeks. Fuck, he's never cried like this in bed before.

"What's wrong, bunny? Is it too much? Do you need me to stop?" His voice, even thin with his own pleasure, his lust, seems sincere. Really would stop no matter how much he must want more, to make sure he's not broken.

"More, more, please, Nic, please!" He begs instead. He needs it. Needs anything to make the blinding fullness change before he shatters.

And the wolf's restraint is torn away with a snarl. He pulls back halfway before he fucks into him hard. Boyd screams his pleasure as he's made so full again. His cock is so big that there's pressure against every inch of his inner walls, rubbing against his prostate, and going so much deeper inside than anything else has ever reached. Nicolas doesn't need to ask if he likes it, if he wants more, the way he's sobbing and trembling apart beneath him must be clear enough. So he doesn't stop. He pulls back even farther this time, and gives another rough thrust that makes their skin meet in a loud, stinging slap. That spark of pain against the pleasure sends his head into the stars as he feels himself getting even hotter.

He doesn't slow down after that. He curls his hands tight around him, holding his body at the angle he wants, and fucks him like a toy. They fall into a brutal rhythm that he's certain will leave dark bruises against his soft skin and he wants those. He wants to be alone tomorrow night touching the bruises on his thighs as he fists his hand around his cock and remembers how good it felt to be this full, this used, this small. Stars, he's never been so happy to be small in his life as the wolf envelops him in his bulk as he leans in to close those big teeth around his throat again, licking and biting, just this side of breaking skin, as he as he fucks him so hard and perfect.

Until he stops fucking in all the way, and Boyd chitters unhappily, wanting his full length inside again. It's not until he feels a bump starting to form, brushing against his stretched hole on each thrust, that he remembers the wolf's knot. Oh, moon and stars, how is he supposed to fit that inside? He doesn't ask to stop though, not when he's so close to his own orgasm. Neither of them are even touching his cock, but it doesn't matter. He's going to come anyway.

"Bunny--"

"I can take it," he says, not even knowing if it's a lie. "Please, please, knot me, please, Nic--!"

He snarls, catching his mouth in another rough kiss and then he's slamming that growing intrusion back inside of his body. Boyd's voice breaks; he moans so loudly as he's forced so wide, wider, as his knot finishes swelling inside of him as his insides are suddenly drenched in the wolf's cum. He whimpers as he sees his stomach swell slightly from how much is flooding his insides. And his knot. Fuck, his knot is so big and it's putting a fresh, perfect pressure against his prostate that has his own cock pulsing as his orgasm tears through him for a second time. He barely manages two squirts of cum as he feels the wolf's cock continuing to pulse inside of him and fill him with more. He can't help trembling and moaning, the pressing inside of him making him feel like he's losing his mind as it keeps coming. He can't escape his cock, can't make the pressure against his prostate lessen, and even as Nic pants through his orgasm, leaning in to pepper his face with more kisses, smearing against the tears and sweat that are spilling over his cheeks, he doesn't come down. He can't. His whole body is raw with his pleasure. When the other man stops spilling inside of him, he gives low comforting growls and chuffs as he holds him close and strokes his hair, as Boyd keeps falling apart stretched wide on his knot.

He doesn't know how long it takes for his knot to start to shrink just the barest bit, but when it does, Nic starts to roll his hips again. He's not fucking him like he did before, but he's grinding and rubbing, and he's already touching every oversensitive part of his body. It's too soon for him to get more than half hard again, but even that has him sobbing harder around the pleasure. He can't. This is too much, he can't possibly feel any better than he already does. The wolf shifts a hand to play with his tail again and Boyd whimpers, mortified, as his cock twitches and starts to dribble out a very thin stream of milky cum. Every little roll of his hips as his sore prostate is abused again, makes a little more come out. The wolf nearly purrs as he makes sure that he's gotten every drop of his pleasure out of him before his knot shrinks away and he's able to pull out.

Boyd's face is impossibly hot as he puts one big hand against his stomach as he does, pressing on the small bloat that wasn't there before as he pulls out. A humiliated whine slips from his lips as the wolf's cum pours from his body as he presses on his stomach, soaking both of their legs and the bed beneath them in a heady tangle of their scents.

He's pretty sure he passes out before he's empty.

///

Boyd wakes up with his mouth thick and stale, his entire lower half aching fiercely, and a bone-deep satisfaction everywhere else. And... curled up securely in Nic's arms. The wolf has wrapped his body around Boyd's much smaller form and appears to be sleeping soundly. Neither of them are crusting in dried cum, so he guesses that the wolf had cleaned them up after he-- he feels his blush go so hot it burns across the back of his neck-- after he'd passed out from how exhausted his body was in the wake of so much pleasure. He isn't being held too tightly, but he still shifts, turning into his full form, and more easily being able to hop out from the embrace as a rabbit. He slinks off of the edge of the bed before he turns back. As euphoric as the night before was, and no matter how sore he is, he needs to leave.

He moves as quietly as possible, retrieving his bracers and clothes and getting into them as quickly as he can manage. He's gotten his boots in hand and is starting to creep across the floor to the door when he hears the wolf yawn.

"Don't you want the rest of your payment, little bun?"

He stiffens, but he isn't doing anything wrong per say. Lots of people sneak out after a one-night stand. "Payment?"

The wolf hums, stretching out on the bed as he rolls over to look at him. "I had brought that platinum to buy a companion for my upcoming rut."

Fear pulses through him followed hotly by his indignance. "I'm a thief not a whore. If you want that, you can find it at the brothel." He digs into his pouch, furious with himself for getting caught, for being duped by the pretty smile and charming words. He pulls the platinum pieces he'd taken from his purse and tosses them onto the floor. He drops his boots back to the ground, intent on shoving his feet back into them and making himself scarce just in case the wolf decides to send the guards after him.

The bed creeks as he gets out of it and he flicks his remaining dagger into his hand, whirling to press it to the wolf's chest as he moves across the small room and into his space. Nicolas regards the small knife without any fear, but keeps his hands raised slightly at his sides. "If I treated you like a whore, then I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention when I invited you into bed last night." He reaches for him, hand cupping the side of his face. Boyd puts the blade to his wrist, but it doesn't deter him. His thumb strokes softly over his cheek. "Keep the platinum if you want it. My only hope is that you enjoyed last night as much as it seemed like you were."

He hesitates. "Why didn't you call the guards last night? I robbed you."

"You did. You robbed half a dozen other people too, if my count is right. But you never took more than they could spare. That's about as much honor as I suppose a thief can manage." His lips curl up into that soft smile again. "And why shouldn't you? When none of them will even give you the time of day? Even small creatures can be dangerous when they're overlooked." He shifts his hand, carefully brushing his thumb along the edge of the dagger to feel its sharpness. "I won't call the guards on you, and you never have to see me again, little bunny. But if you want to," he takes a step back, his tail swaying nervously near his ankles. "Then I'll be here for another three days before I find someone else to spend my rut with."

He hesitates, but after another second, the wolf turns to go back to the bed, giving him a good look at the muscle corded along his back and down to his sculpted ass as his tail swishes. He tries to shake away the little pulse of heat that puts in his veins and slips the knife back into his bracer before he finishes putting on his boots. "Don't hold your breath." He grumbles, the humiliation sitting under his skin as he opens the door.

"I may." Amusement clear in the other's voice. Boyd huffs and slinks away from the room, heading back home as swiftly as possible in case he changes his mind about calling the guards.

///

It's not too long before he's in his apartment again, stripping away his clothes so he can go take a proper bath. There are bruises against his thighs and ass, little shadows of them around his hips as well from being held in the position that the wolf wanted. They ache softly when he touches them and that little sting feels good under his skin. He tries not to think about that too hard as he goes and scrubs his skin clean of the wolf's scent.

When he gets back out of the bathroom, he dresses in soft sleep clothes, more than ready to eat and then return to bed for the rest of the day. But he pauses as he passes his purse that he'd set on his side table. He opens it back up and finds that he had really managed quite a good score the night before. Definitely enough to live off of for a few months.

The single platinum piece still sitting amongst the gold begs the question of if he'll seek out the wolf again before he leaves. Boyd moves into his kitchen as he refuses to answer until he has some distance from the night before.

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sadhours · 4 months

Text

scumbag blues: 2) quick and to the pointless

gator tillman x female oc

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, sex work, oral (m receiving), p in v, phone sex

“Gator, need you to head to the Way’s Inn,” Roy tells his boy, sipping on a cup of coffee.

“The Way’s Inn? Why?” he asks, eyebrows bunched up while he can’t help but picture Daisy’s pretty face and body just at the mention of her surname.

“Looking for a fella named Campbell,” Roy adjusts his hat and looks up to his only son, daring him to come up with an excuse, “Bet if he passed through Dickinson, he helped himself to Ms. Daisy’s hospitality.”

“Campbell who?” Gator frowns, pushing down the jealousy. It’s unfounded, she’s a whore, it’s what she does and Gator’s no better than any of the men who find themselves through them doors at the Inn. Still, feels like he owns her.

“Don’t have a full name,” Roy keeps his expression straight, “All y’need to know is he’s armed and dangerous. Stark County don’t need him here and that’s your job. Find him.”

“Yes sir,” Gator nods and turns to walk out of the room when Roy’s voice stops him.

“Don’t go alone. You’re a weak man when it comes to temptation.”

Gator don’t dignify that with a response, as true as it is.

—

A baby pink bubble of gum expands from Daisy’s lips as she stands at the front desk, flipping through a magazine with her long, bleached blonde hair tied in a braid that falls down the right side of her chest. He takes a deep breath, he’s here on police business. Brought Nugent with him so he doesn’t get distracted and end up $200 poorer. Which is gonna be difficult because it’s the middle of June, it’s starting to get warm and Daisy’s clothes reflect as much. She’s got on a pair of cut off Wranglers, a pair of boots and a delicate pink camisole that barely contains her breasts, nipples hard and poking through the worn cotton fabric.

“Deputy Tillman, Deputy Nugent,” Daisy greets them with a breezy voice once her bubblegum pops. “What brings two handsome men like yourselves here?”

She bats her eyelashes as her eyes bounce between the pair of them. She’s got some bluegrass music playing quietly on a Bluetooth speaker. Her favorite, Gator recognizes and while he’s pretty much forced to listen to country music everywhere he goes, it only sounds pleasant when it’s the background music to the vision that Daisy is. Her makeup is simple, Gator wouldn’t know she’s even wearing any if it weren’t for the mascara smudged under her eye. There’s a subtle sheen of sweat on the high points of her face and Gator first assumes she’s just had a customer, but he notices the bandana on the counter next to bright yellow rubber gloves. He tilts his head to see the round basket full of cleaning supplies on the hardwood next to the front desk and feels pride swelling in his chest. She keeps this place spotless and he thinks that’s a good trait for a woman to have.

“Looking for a fella named Campbell, he here?” Gator asks, hands on his belt as he eyes the short woman.

“Campbell,” she drawls out, like she’s tasting the name. “Hm.”

Daisy reaches for the sign-in register book for guests. Her papa Earl ain’t good with technology so the Inn runs like computers were never invented. Daisy shimmies out from behind the desk, over to the couch in the quaint lobby and slams the leather bound book on the marble coffee table. Gator watches her legs the entire time, flooded with the memory of dragging his hands down them and how tightly they wrap his waist. She sinks down on the couch, her petite body bouncing with it and Gator thinks it’s a lost cause that he left his wallet in the cruiser. He’s itching to get his hands on her and doesn’t believe he has the willpower to leave here without doin’ so. Especially so when Daisy gazes up at him and pats the couch cushion next to her. Gator’s legs move on their own accord, sliding down next to her. The gun strapped to his thigh flush with her bare skin. Gets a little dizzy on the look of it.

“I’m rather good at keeping up with filling this thing out,” she insists and then shakes her head as she exhales a laugh, “But Papa isn’t.”

Gator gazes down at the book as Daisy opens it, Nugent taking a seat on a chair opposite of the couch. He reads the last few entries, lip tweaking up at how girly and pretty Daisy’s handwriting is. But then he’s recognizing the names on the list and his blood boils when he thinks about people he considers friends getting a piece of Daisy. Wills himself not to pay attention to the check in and check out times.

“Campbell… yep! Yesterday mornin’,” Daisy chirps while he points at the name. “What’d he do?”

“That’s confidential,” Gator mumbles, catching the way Daisy rolls her eyes.

“What’d he look like?” Nugent asks and the blonde purses her lips as she thinks.

“Older guy,” she muses, turning her head to look at Gator and he realizes just how close they are. Lips almost touching as she says, “50’s, gray hair, kinda funny lookin’.”

“Funny lookin’ how?” Gator asks back.

“Just funny lookin’,” she grins. “More than most people.”

Gator scrunches his face up in response, just as Daisy’s father walks into the room. Gator is quick to make room between him and Daisy, stands up to shake Earl’s hand and greet him.

“Howdy, boys,” Earl smiles, “Looking for another poor fella?”

“Yep, guy named Campbell,” Nugent speaks now, “Recall him?”

Earl looks deep in thought, when Daisy interrupts, “Ya wanna see the room he stayed in, Gator? Might be some evidence.”

Gator’s throat goes dry, turning his eyes from Earl to his gorgeous daughter, eyes wide and innocent. Fuck her, he thinks to himself but nods, following Daisy up the creaky stairs. Doesn’t avert his eyes from her asscheeks spilling from her ill-fitting shorts. It bounces with the way she takes the steps, and once they’re out of eyesight and in the hallway, Gator’s pressing her against the wall, lips flush on her ear, “Don’t have my wallet.”

“S’fine,” Daisy whispers back, hooking her fingers in Gator’s belt straps and pulling him closer, “This one’s for me.”

Gator smirks, catching her lips in a kiss as he digs his fingers in her hips. Hopes to God he’s the only one she’s offering free services to. Daisy slips him her tongue, tilting her head to the side and Gator graciously accepts it, pants stiffening from a god damn kiss. His dad’s right, he’s weak for Daisy. Can’t resist temptation even if it came along with electric shocks. They stumble into a bedroom, lips locked the whole time. But once the doors closed, Gator’s backs against it and Daisy’s on her knees.

She undoes his thigh strap and sets it on the floor before looking up at him expectantly. He scoffs, though it’s through a smile as he fishes in his pocket for his vape and hands it to her. She places it on the floor next to the strap and nuzzles her face against the erection straining behind his black cargos. Her fingers are nimble as they expertly undo his button and tug his pants down his thighs, eyeing him through his briefs like she’s starving. Licking her lips and bouncing on her knees, hooking her fingers into his underwear and pulling them down, his cock bobbing out. Gator exhales sharply as Daisy’s hands wrap around his base, her mouth makes contact with his shaft. Mouths at him, dragging her tongue along the vein trailing up the side of his cock. Makes his head swim as he watches her with lustful eyes. Daisy licks him like the tastiest ice cream cone, squeezing him at the base. She could be doing porn, has the perfect look for it. With her full tits, bleached hair and huge, wide eyes. Them pouty lips he can’t stop dreaming about, swears to God she’s the prettiest woman in Stark County. Maybe the whole world.

“Ain’t got time for much, Daisy,” he mumbles, “Let’s see how quick you can make me cum.”

Daisy bites her lip as she strokes him in her hand, “Bet I could do it quicker than you think.”

“Thirty seconds,” Gator raises an eyebrow, smirk spreading across his face.

“You’re on,” Daisy giggles before she’s wrapping her lips around the tip of his cock and sucking hard, hollowing her cheeks around him. She literally gets paid to do this, of course she’s a goddamn rockstar when it comes to sucking dick. He’s still mad about it, face scrunching up as pleasure swirls in his stomach. An involuntary moan falls from his lips as she sinks down his cock, swallowing around him— throat muscles contracting as the tip pokes the back of her throat. He feels her smile around him and his hands card into her blonde hair, tugging as he feels her relax around him. She blinks up at him, doesn’t move an inch and Gator scoffs, smiling around it before he thrusts his hips. Fucks her mouth as she’s silently asked for. Sees it in her eyes that she likes being used like this.

Gator grabs a hold of her braid, other hand still gripping the roots on the crown of her head as he drills his cock into her wet, hot mouth. She gags with it, eyes falling shut as drool bubbles at the corners of her lips. With Gator controlling it, he doesn’t think it’s fair. Sure he could cum by fucking her mouth like this but he’s doing all the work, so he lets up. Drags her along his cock slower. So Daisy plays dirty, smoothes her hands up his thigh and cradles his balls, squeezing just slightly enough before rolling them in her palm and Gator’s eyes roll back in his head while his hips snap forward. Daisy swallows around him again, moaning muffled around his aching cock which sends vibrations along it and straight down to his balls. He grunts, grabbing her hair and pulling her up to her feet. He shoves her against the door, pushing her shorts over her ass. Daisy’s keening, wiggling her ass at him in her tiny white g-string. He spanks her hard before tugging the thong down, lining his cock up with her leaking hole and thrusts inside, filling her in one swift movement. Daisy yelps and Gator covers her mouth with his hand as he hammers his cock into her pussy with deep and hard thrusts.

“This pussy is all mine, ain’t it, Daisy?” he growls against her ear, “Only fucker you give it to for free, yeah?”

“Gator,” muffled against his hand, other hand on her hip as he holds her still.

“Desperate for me,” he purrs, bringing himself closer as he says it. Daisy clearly wants him, wants his cock at least.

She’s saying somethings into his palm but he’s on the brink, orgasm threatening to bust into her as his balls tighten. Her cunt clenching around him, sucking in his cock in a way her mouth could never. She’s taken cock in this room hundreds of time, but never this good, never made her legs shake like this. He bites her neck as his orgasm washes over him, seed shooting hot and forceful against her spongy insides. Daisy cries out against his lips, wiggling her ass back against him and milking his cock for all its worth. He grips her hip hard enough to leave little fingertip shaped bruises. Gator pulls out and flips her around, pressing his lips to her in a domineering kiss. She melts into it, grabbing a hold of his forearms as she makes this whiny moans into his mouth.

“Is there actual evidence in here?” Gator asks as he buttons his cargos back up, glancing around the room. Daisy shrugs, pulling her shorts back up and trails around the room and into the en-suite bathroom. Gator reattaches his thigh strap and takes a deep pull from his vape before shoving it in his pocket.

Daisy holds up a condom, tied at the end as she leaves the bathroom. Gator’s filled with rage, disgusted at the thought of bringing it to his father. The both of them looking at the spunk and knowing the only woman Gator’s showed remote interest in was the one to obtain it. But it’s good evidence.

“Fuck,” Gator sighs, rubbing his eyes before he says, “Ya know, I’d kill any man who you’ve fucked but I’d have to clean the entire county.”

“Gator,” she whines, “You ain’t no better than those men. I’m just trying to keep a damn roof over my dads head.”

“I am better than those men,” Gator mumbles, reaching for a box of tissues on the dresser and ripping the paper out of it, holding the box out and Daisy rolls her eyes as she drops the soiled condom into the empty box.

“More attractive, sure,” Daisy replies, “But you treat me exactly as they do. A woman you don’t have to do much work to get naked.”

“For fucks sake,” Gator exhales, “In another life, Daisy, maybe. But my dads the fucking sheriff, a preacher. How do you think he’d look if his only son was courting a goddamn hooker?”

“I get it,” she rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying, you ain’t no better than any of the men that walk into here.”

“Keep telling yourself that, with my cum leaking out of you,” Gator narrows his eyes before he exits the room and jogs down the stairs, nodding to Nugent.

“Alright, Earl, it was good catching up. If you remember anything else, don’t hesitate to call,” Nugent shakes Earl’s hand and follows Gator out of the Inn.

—

Roy looks at Gator with disappointment as he hands him the box, peeking down into it.

“Girlfriend of yours keep evidence like this often?”

“She ain’t my girlfriend,” Gator huffs, turning his eyes towards the ceiling.

“Shame about that Daisy,” Roy tsks, “Damned near prettiest girl in this county.”

Gator doesn’t like hearing his dad’s attracted to Daisy. Knows Daisy would offer him the same services as every other man. Wouldn’t care that he’s Gator’s father.

“Yeah, she’s pretty,” he agrees but quickly moves on, “Who is this fella? What‘d he do?”

“Drugs,” Roy purses his lips, “He offer ‘em to your girl?”

“Didn’t say,” Gator replies, face all scrunched up, “Didn’t know to ask.”

“Ask her,” he adds, “What’d she say?”

“He’s funny lookin’, older.”

“That’s it?” Roy looks at him, unimpressed. “Too busy to do your job?”

“She’s secretive about that stuff,” Gator mumbles.

Roy hums, “All that money you give her… all that time you spend over there… and she can’t help you out.”

“I’ll call her,” Gator sighs as he turns, heads towards the stairs.

“I’m off to see Karen and the twins,” Roy calls after him but Gator doesn’t reply, trudges up to his room with a bitter taste in his mouth. Strips off all his gear before he crawls into his bed and shoots Daisy a text.

Need more

Gator realizes he should’ve clarified when Daisy replies with a rather tasteful, yet salacious photo. It’s her silhouette, clearly nude in her bedroom. The shadow casted displays her pert tits and nipples. Gator feels a stir in his pants and groans, temptation almost too good to let slip. But his dads in his head.

Not that. Campbell.

Jizz not enough?

Describe him.

Gator closes his eyes as he rests his head against his pillows. His phone vibrates repeatedly, he lifts it up and looks at the Caller ID.

Daisy. Simple. Not a photo. He almost doesn’t want to answer it but he does.

“Hello,” he breathes into the receiver.

“I told ya, he was funny lookin’,” Daisy greets him. Gator imagines she’s splayed across her bed, in one of her many lacy nightgowns. It’s nearing midnight. He’s happy she’s not with another man but won’t dare say it. Her voice is honey in his ears. Addictive like every bit of her is. Wants to fall asleep on the phone like they used to when he first started seeing her.

“Yeah, we’re all funny lookin,” Gator replies, smoothing his left hand down his stomach. “Details, Daisy.”

“He was circumcised,” she replies and his blood boils. Has a half mind to hang up on her.

“So is like 90% of the male population in this country. Something I can use, please,” he groans.

“You’re no fun. What do you think he looks like?” Daisy asks with a teasing tilt to her voice. Gator imagines she’s laying on his chest, that the hand on his stomach is her hand and not his own.

“A pill pusher. He offer you anything?”

“Funny you say that!” She giggles, the sound making his stomach tighten. “He did! I said no, obviously.”

“What was it?” Gator mumbles back, hand moving down to his cock because he can’t help himself and Daisy‘s voice is making it fill out. God, if only she weren’t a whore. If only he could court her. There’s a girl at the station who started yesterday. His dad told him to ask her out. Said she’s a good girl. Not like the tramp he wastes his paychecks on.

“I don’t remember,” she sighs, “Probably some good ones. Opiates. You know I don’t do drugs, Gator.”

The way she says his name makes him want to drive to the Inn, tell her she’s the only woman he can think about. Tell her he can save her from whatever the fuck makes her sell her body.

“Funny,” he says instead, “You snorted like half the bag I lifted from evidence the other week.”

“Gator!” she squeals, “You were halfway to the goddamn moon when you showed up here! How the hell else was I supposed to keep up with ya?”

“That was a fun night,” Gator remembers as he squeezes his cock, it’s more than just a chub now, “Had you howling, shocker your daddy didn’t wake up.”

“Ya know, he thinks you're courting me,” Daisy replies, matter-of-factly.

Gator guffaws, “What on earth gave him that impression?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s you showing up twice a week. And you’re the only one he ever sees leaving,” she offers.

Gator has to cool it, he knows. Feels like he’s addicted to Daisy, though. Even now, just on the phone with her and he’s lazily rubbing at his cock. Wonders if she’s touching herself too.

“Where’re your hands?” he asks, quietly.

Daisy giggles, pretty and wonderful and straight to Gator’s raging boner. Squeezes himself as he bites his lip. “Tell me.”

“Should’ve figured,” she hums, “Want me to touch my pussy?”

“Yeah,” Gator breathes out, lamely.

Daisy whines over the phone. Gator imagines she’s smoothing her hands between her thighs. That she’s obeying him. ‘Cause she always does.

“I’m rubbing my pussy, through my underwear. Feels nice,” Daisy purrs, “Are you hard, Gator?”

“Yeah,” he repeats, squeezing himself through his pants. “You wet?”

Daisy moans softly, he pictures her moving her fingers in slow circles against her clit. His cock twitches at the mental image. Has to get himself out of his pants and briefs, squeezes himself at the base. Watches as the tip bubbles out some precum.

“I’m so wet, Gator. Your voice is so sexy,” she tells him and he groans lowly.

“Wish I could see,” he mumbles, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m still rubbing myself through my panties,” she admits, “Is your cock out? In your hand?”

“Yeah… take your panties off for me.”

“Anything you want, daddy,” she breathes and Gator reaches for his bottle of lotion, squirting a bit on his hand and smearing it on his shaft. He lets out a low moan and begins stroking himself slowly.

Gator tells her, “Want you to lick your fingers and then rub your clit. Slow. In circles.”

“Okay,” she replies, he can hear her licking her fingers and then she gasps softly, “Want you to tease yourself, squeeze your cock at the base. Don’t stroke, just hold it.”

“Daisy…” Gator whimpers as he listens, stopping his strokes as he grips himself at the base. “Two fingers, inside. Now. Curl them up and drag ‘em back out.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Daisy moans, all breathy.

“Keep doing that,” Gator breathes out, “Over and over.”

“Okay, daddy,” she purrs and moans some more. “Feels… so good… wish it was your fingers… mine don’t really reach. Need you.”

“I know you can make yourself cum, baby girl,” Gator chuckles, “You got toys. I seen ‘em.”

Daisy giggles again and Gator has to stroke his cock, whines as he does it.

“You bought me my favorite,” she gasps, “But it’s so loud!”

“Fucker was pricey, too,” Gator laughs softly, “Makes you cum in like… seconds though.”

“Mhm… only use it with you,” Daisy confesses and Gator’s heart swells a bit. The wand was a gift. Two hundred dollars. But the way Daisy’s eyes rolled back and she screamed when he used it on her was worth it. Came immediately. Gator was unhealthily obsessed with it for a while. Paid Daisy to send him videos of her using it everyday for two weeks straight. Money well worth spent to him.

“You got them dildos too, I know they can reach better than your fingers,” Gator replies, squeezing the base of his cock, waiting for Daisy to give him permission to do more.

“They’re not as big as you,” she complains, “But want me to use one?”

“I do,” Gator admits, “the biggest one you have. Without lube. Bet you're wet enough.”

He can hear her rustling on the other end, digging in the drawer of sex toys in her nightstand. “Maybe the pink one,” he says, quickly, “‘Member when I had that thing in your ass while I fucked your pussy?”

“Gator…” she moans and he bites his lip hard.

“Daisy, I need to move my hand. Please.”

“Yes, Daddy. Stroke your cock but wait, I wanna put it in at the same time. Okay? On the count of three.”

“On three,” Gator mumbles, skin prickling in goosebumps with anticipation.

“One.. two.. three,” they count together and moan in sync.

“Fuck, okay. Hard and fast, Daisy,” Gator instructs.

“Yes,” she whines and they both turn into a puddle over the phone. Moaning into the receiver as they work themselves closer and closer to orgasm.

Gator strokes his cock, tight and quick. Balls tighten as he brings himself on the brink of orgasm. Second of the day, just for Daisy.

“I’m gonna cum,” he tells her, “Cum with me. Fuck yourself harder. Need you to cum with me.”

“Gonna cum with you, daddy, so close…” she whimpers, “Oh… oh, Gator… yes!”

Daisy gasps and then cries out, just as Gator spills all over his fist and stomach. Moaning guttarly as he does so.

They’re silent for a beat, breathing labored into the phone.

Daisy’s the first to speak after she sighs, “Send me… hm… thirty. Since I enjoyed myself so much. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight, Gator.”

And then she hangs out, and he’s sitting there looking at the spunk on his stomach, phone still held tightly to his ear.

Gator cleans himself up, sends her the money and grabs a pillow, pulling it to his chest as he closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x oc #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fic

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ashintheairlikesnow · 1 month

Text

A Kindness

CW: Runaway whumpee, referenced hunger/malnourishment

Timeline: After Jameson escaped from Robert but before he found a safehouse

For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 3: A Long Cold Night

It’s fucking freezing out here. Jameson thought California wasn’t supposed to get cold like this, but just his goddamn luck, it definitely does.

He’s curled up against the heavy concrete beneath the overpass, using it to block the worst of the wind. There are a scattering of tents around him, others who have figured out some slim form of shelter. There’s a couple fires going, too, but Jameson doesn’t want anything to do with the people circled around them, sharing stories and in-jokes. They’ve been out here for long enough to know each other. To trust each other, more or less.

Like everywhere else he goes, Jameson doesn’t fit.

He sure as fuck doesn't trust.

When he finds other runaway pets, they think he’s frightening. The twisted scar near his mouth catches the firelight too well. He's too brash, too angry, someone who might be violent.

When he tries to stick around non-pets, they read him like a book and treat him like shit on the bottom of their shoes. Or try to sneak up on him when he sleeps and get a hand down his pants, assuming that he won’t fight back, because everyone knows Box Boys will lie back and take it, right?

Well, Jameson isn’t like other pets.

He isn't just any Box Boy.

Nanda taught him how to survive, no matter what it cost. Nanda taught him-

Goddamn fucking dead Nanda.

If he wasn't so fucking dead none of this would be happening.

Jameson closes his eyes against a hot rush of tears he refuses to allow out, not now. Not when he knows he's being watched, considered for whether he might have a few dollars that could be stolen or if he could be held down and made to accept their touch. He won't be.

The ones who try learn that real fast not to try again, once they have busted lips and black eyes and, in one case, a set of balls so bruised and twisted that the asshole who tried to make Jameson kneel for him is definitely sterile now.

Cold nights make his legs ache, the final loving legacy of the braces he’d worn for too long that never let him stand all the way up. Two goddamn assholes had put those on him, and he'll never be free of the pain. Jameson ignores it, grinds his teeth until his jaw hurts worse than his legs ever could. He can ignore it just fine until the weather gets cold.

Mostly.

There’s a scraping off to his left, footsteps crunching on gravel and shards of broken glass. Jameson’s knife is in his hand as easily as he breathes and he’s already got it brandished when he turns, putting a sneer on his face, leaning into the ugliness of the scar that twists one side of his mouth more than the other. “Listen, motherfucker, try to stick your dick anywhere near me and I’ll fucking cut it off-... shit.”

His voice dies as he takes her in.

She’s small, almost dainty looking. He reads her for what she is in a heartbeat, the grace in every movement carefully trained until it was no longer a conscious choice, the soft skin that had spent a long time moisturized and cared for at odds with the hackjob and clumsy box-dye red she’d done to her hair to try and make herself less recognizable. She’s drowning in a man’s overcoat at least four sizes too big and so long it’s dragging the ground, heavy boots that she has to be wearing at least three pairs of socks to fit into. She’s wearing leather driving gloves too big for her hands.

Her eyes are wide and frightened.

But she's not frightened of him.

She reads him right back, and they recognize each other before a single real word is said. She manages a slight, trembling smile. Jameson feels the snarl fade off his own face. They might have trained together, not that he remembers much of training.

“... can I sit with you tonight?” She asks, voice low, glancing nervously over her shoulder and then back to him. “Please? You’re, you were one too, right?”

Jameson’s jaw works.

He should tell her to fuck off, this is his spot, leave him alone. That he’s not nice, he’s no one anyone can trust. He’s been owned three times and twice they made him live on his hands and knees, once he starved, once he watched people die over and over again until he sees their faces every time he sleeps.

He didn't deserve to be the one who lived after it all, but he's the one who would do anything not to die, so here they are. Here they fucking are.

Instead of rejecting her need for even one small kindness, he replies instead, "Yeah, whatever. Go ahead. Don't try to talk to me about it, though."

He closes the knife, letting it slide back into his pocket as she makes her way to him, dropping down to sit beside him, curling her knees to her chest and pulling a hood up over her head. Jameson feels… settled, at the gentle unassuming touch, her weight barely noticeable when she leans slowly until her head rests on his shoulder. She smells kind of gross, but he probably does, too. Who knows when either of them last showered?

“Sorry,” She whispers as she slides her gloved hand into his, twining their fingers together.

“Uh-... what-... what the fuck are you doing-”

“There’s a guy who won’t stop following me around.” She keeps her voice low, turning and lifting her chin so she’s almost kissing Jameson’s cheek right over his scar as she speaks. “I told him you were my boyfriend. Can you-... just pretend to be, for a while? We’re good at pretending we’re in relationships, you can do it, right? I knew when I saw you that you’d been like me.”

Jameson fights the twist of pain.

Pretending we’re in relationships.

That’s as close as he’s ever going to get, and even that was ripped away from him. Jameson never even got to tell him-

He shuts that thought down.

He doesn’t think about Nanda anymore. He doesn’t think about anyone unless it’s to hate them - that’s easier.

All he does is nod, giving a smile - fake but to anyone else it looks warmly genuine. He can make any expression an owner wants on command, still - the scars and bald patches where hair used to be, rubbed away by the muzzle day after day, make it a little scarier. But it never looks like a lie.

“I got you,” He murmurs back, and kisses her forehead like they’ve known each other for forever.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a man lurking, skulking around, one eye on the girl all the time, watching Jameson slide an arm around her waist with barely concealed jealousy. Jameson shoots him a serene smile, pulling the girl tightly against him.

It’s going to be a long, cold night, and he’s not going to sleep at all.

The girl dozes off almost immediately, finally feeling safe enough to sleep, and that… that helps. A little bit.

It's a kindness.

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @yet-another-heathen @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

#amow tropeathon2024 #day 3 #a long cold night #escaped whumpee #runaway whumpee #jameson bb #scars #scarred whumpee #bbu #box boy #box boy universe

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spacenintendogs · 7 months

Note

modern au ask. What are the gangs personal clothing styles ?

ooooo.... i'm not very fashionable nor am i rlly confident abt my knowledge of styles & stuff so i'm sorry if it's not as creative as it could be :')

hiccup i see a lot of layers, similar to how he dresses in the dreamworks franchise. as he gets older there's more leather since he does a lot of motorcycle riding. flannels, graphic tees, baggier cargo pants & shorts & sneakers are his general go-to. has a nice pair of chucks he brings out once in a while. no piercings but he has a tattoo of toothless' strike class silhouette on one of his shoulder blades.

astrid dresses practically. usually in a pair of jeans or leggings. when she dresses more casually it's basketball shorts with a jersey of some kind. she wears jerseys relatively often too. also shirts she can easily move & breathe in. i think she'd like horizontal stripes for shirts but i might be projecting lol. she's got multiple ear piercings on both ears tho. she also loves her headbands!!! gets a specially made one from tuff & snot with stormfly's spines on it!! steel toed boots.

fishlegs dresses like a hipster. have u seen his moustache in httyd 3?? he's a hipster & he fucking rocks it. also rocks a lot of street styles he's one of the most fashionable of the gang & he is proud of it. he looks great always. gets the tattoos on his arms like he has in httyd 3. he also likes wearing rings!! has a wooden bead bracelet he wears from his older sister. uses stuff like beard oil & is super into skincare. u will catch him with a face mask & cucumbers over his eyes.

snotlout prob goes through the biggest style shift. when he's younger he dresses like the usual high school douchebag, backwards cap & everything. once he's a senior & after he graduates he's more biker style (he does become a biker dude after all). super tight t-shirts that show his boobs lmao. he gets his ears pierced & gets a labret piercing. tattoo sleeve on his right arm of monstrous nightmares entangling around each other. old habits die hard tho so sometimes u catch him with his backwards cap. heeled boots bc he likes to be tall.

ruffnut is so fucking cool u guys. she dresses in a variety of styles, sometimes vastly different day to day but she pulls them all off flawlessly. strong fashion is actually how she & fishlegs bond sometimes (or argue lmao). she's got so many ear piercings & switches out what she has by the day. she does her hair the most elaborately out of the gang, when it's long or short. loves long necklaces & layers them. has her nose pierced too. she has a tattoo of barf going down her calf (tuff has the other half so if they stand next to each other it completes the zippleback!!). her fave pair of shoes tho are her sketchers hiking sandals. let the dogs out!!!

tuff is also so fucking cool, though in a more laid back way compared to ruff. more grungy. ripped jeans from falling off his longboard. old sneakers that have been everywhere. shirts he's had since middle school that may be repurposed to have ripped sleeves or become crop tops. that ugly dress u saw at a thrift store? he's wearing it & fucking looks great. he has his septum pierced and multiple ear piercings (like httyd 3). i also think he'd get snake bites. when he's younger he wears beanies a lot but once he's older he puts his hair up in more elaborate "viking" styles with how he braids. also enjoys tank tops & more frayed looks to shirts in general. has belch tattooed down his calf (ruff has the other half, as stated above).

#httyd #httyd headcanons #httyd modern au #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #fishlegs ingerman #snotlout jorgenson #ruffnut thorston #tuffnut thorston #rose answers #nightcorecarseatheadrest #thank u!!!! i hope these make sense!!!!!#astor tag #dragons off the coast au

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jpnriikicore · 7 months

Text

── marlboro nights

paring nishimura riki x fem!reader, word count 647, genre fluff, ( masterlist )

a sigh escapes from your lips leaning back against your chair throwing your head back. you can’t stop think about your stupid best friend, nishimura riki who also goes by ni-ki. you simply had hatered for the boy since he was the source of not letting able to study properly. you truly dread having wake up tomorrow and go to school.

you have completely abandoned your textbooks and notes knowing that you aren’t going to stop thinking about the boy anytime soon. you just have to hope and pray that you don’t miserable fail the test tomorrow.

you remembered a few days ago you and riki was walking from school back to your house. you was doing homework that your teacher assigned writing down answers on the piece of paper. riki placed his hands on your upper arms moving you over to the other side of the street.

to everyone else who saw the sight of you two. they would have known that riki was completely head over the hills for you but you was to obvious to notice that.

the short moment you glanced up at him. you breathe got caught in your throat. he was wearing his school uniform: black jacket with the school logo, white dressed shirt, black tie, black pants, and black boots. his dyed jet black hair that looks almost blue when it shines in the sun that compliments his melanin skin tone with moles decorating his face.

what you didn’t know was riki was in the exact position - well not exact. riki turned over to his side for the fourteen hundredth time that night. instead of trying to get some sleep riki couldn’t help but want to stay up all night and think about you his best friend, y/n.

at first he felt guilty even about thinking about his best friend in such a way but as time went on he became ok with the feelings he was having.

pushing the covers off his body sitting up on the edge of his bed. his eyes darted around his dark dingy room landing on a polaroid of you. he stood up from his bed and walked over to his mirror. gently pulled the polaroid off his mirror looking down at the photo soft smiling at said memory.

you two rode the bike you guys used to ride all the time a few years back to the park a few minutes away to go gaze at the dark sky littered with bright stars and crest moon. you just looked so pretty in that moment your hair blowing through the slight wind and the moonlight illuminating on your skin.

you was wearing most of his clothes: his black leather jacket that was a bit too big for you, his black hoodie that you stole one night, black jeans that are a bit bigger at the bottom, and the converses you wore everywhere. that’s when he sneaked a picture of you.

he opened his bedroom table drawer finding a marlboro pack of cigarettes getting one from the almost empty pack searching for a lighter. he remembered that you always have one on hand. you didn’t smoke or anything like him but always had one for when it came useful. on school grounds he would always go to you knowing that you would have one.

finally finding one not the one he was looking for but it would do. flicking the flame to light the yellow part of his cigarette hanging from his mouth. tossing the lighter around in his hand he noticed on the side the initials n.y in faded black marker was on it.

he remembered when you lost this lighter and he found it but never told you he did as he wanted to keep it as a token of you. n standing for nishimura and y standing for y/n.

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hevanderson · 3 months

Text

hi. take some glestern style descriptions. also i must preface by saying this is NOT historically accurate nor is it meant to be. this is based off of vibes alone. thumbs up

quinn: early on, she wears very modest outfits. high collars and skirts that go to the ankles. flat shoes. long sleeves and/or impractical lacy gloves. light colors, particularly blue and white. long hair, either all down or partially up and partially down. cross necklace is always on. classy, expensive looking jewelry, particularly bracelets. later, she wears pants that are clearly second-hand and in relatively poor condition, stolen. big, button up work shirts that are also not in the best shape. the buttons are never fully buttoned. her hair is now short, think her season 3 hair or s2 new york hair. no more cross necklace, and minimal jewelry, if any at all. more durable shoes meant for working. a belt with a holster to carry a gun. carries more practical gloves in the pocket of her pants. darker color schemes with a lot of neutrals. most of her clothes have some visible stress on them

santana: darker colors. a decent mix of tight and loose clothing– usually, her tops are tighter and her bottoms are looser. big fan of shorts and shorter skirts. moveability is a priority for her. likes necklaces, but doesnt own many. the ones she own are from her family and tend to somewhat clash with her outfits but she wears them anyway because she loves her family. ties her hair up when working, high ponytail, no bangs. when shes working with sue's gang, she layers up as best as she can and goes for all loose clothing so its easier to move and sneak around. her hair is tied into a low ponytail to keep it out of her face. at work and in everyday, she wears boots with a mild heel, but when shes on duty for sue she wears discreet flat shoes to avoid making sounds. for the same reason, she also doesnt wear jewelry while working with sue's gang

puck: dark colors. darker blue jeans that have been worn quite a bit. rips in the jeans. black cowboy boots are always on, and are rather simple with no designs in them. shaved head. off duty, he occasionally wears a cowboy hat. he wears button ups that are, of course, never fully (or at all) buttoned. the sleeves to these shirts are often rolled up to his forearms. tattoos on his arm, hand-done of course, random doodles he thinks make him look badass. always has a gun in his belt holster, conveniently placed right in front of his crotch. gross

tina: dark colors strike again, but her outfits have accents of blue. gloves, dyed black leather with the occasional lace. high collared shirts paired with intricate silver necklaces, usually adorned with blue gems. long, ruffled skirts. her outfits between working and day to day dont change much, although she sometimes will wear subtley striped black pants when working. always in heeled boots with looping stitched details in blue thread. her hair is plain back and usually down, but, occasionally when shes working at the saloon, she'll pull it into a low ponytail or braids. wears a black leather crossbody satchel. no guns on her but just in case she does carry around a small knife with a sheath

brittany: finally a break from dark colors. brittany primarily wears whites and lighter colors, particularly blues, pinks, and oranges. a wide collection of white shirts she's customized, either intentionally or unintentionally– grass stains, paint splatters, patterns stitched into her shirts. she keeps it loose. overalls enjoyer, usually wears a blue pair that have doodles and practice stitches all over them. she generally prefers pants and shorts, and usually wears light blue denim. if she does wear a skirt, it is flowy but not long, and must have some form of pattern on it (she likes florals the most). her hair is equally spent down as it is spent up; either, it is everywhere and flowing freely (usually when shes just out and about), but when working on her farm or performing she ties it up into a high ponytail, but leaves her bangs out (think her early s2 bangs). when shes working for sue, she borrows clothes from santana. she also ties her hair into a ponytail and pins it into a large, rather impractical, hat she wears. her gang clothes are dark, both to obscure her identity and to give her more security under darkness

mercedes: glamorous and colorful. the largest parts of her outfits are usually black or dark brown, but anything else is bursting with color. when performing, she wears darker high-low skirts with ruffles in purples, pinks, and reds depending on the costume. more corset-like tops that have ruffles lining the top and spilling over onto the off-the-shoulder sleeves. feathery headbands. gloves that stop at her wrists and are complimented by bejeweled bracelets. tights with some subtle patterns in them in a darker version of what her outfit's accent color is. tall boots that are just a little impractical to walk in. when shes off duty, she still wears skirts, and they range from stopping at her mid-thigh to coming down to her ankles. flat shoes that are comfortable to walk in. she wears the same bracelets, but loses her gloves and headband. her shirts have a similar construction to her performance ones, corest-y and off the shoulder, but when shes just lounging around or creating costumes she wears more relaxed tops– button ups and things like that. no matter what, though, she likes to have a lot of color. her hair, both on and off duty, is most similar to her s1 pilot hairstyle. no weapons, she tries to be a pacifist when she can

sam: light colors, but a bit less soft than brittany's color schemes. cool colors, blues and greens with some greys. his hair is similar to late s2. king of plaid button ups, and he wears them buttoned to the very top bc he takes his job as sheriff seriously. occasionally wears a grey cowboy hat that has his name stitched into the inside of it (courtesy of mercedes). his shirt is always tucked into his blue jeans, which have very faint grass stains and places that look like theyre on the verge of tearing. brown cowboy boots always. if he wants to class his outfit up, and he does abkut 50% of the time, he'll pair his shirt with a brown leather vest and, of course, a bolo tie. he also wears a belt with a medium sized round belt buckle. he has a holster on his belt but rarely has a gun in it because he honestly hates resorting to violence despite his job

#my post #glestern au

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youngxforever · 1 year

Text

My original character for infamous if I hope you enjoy :)

Crimson Moon

Name: Luna Nova Henderson

(lead singer of the band Crimson moon)

Stage name: Fondstar

Ethnicity:African American

Skintone:umber

Eye color:dark brown

Sex: Female (she/her)

Sexuality:Straight

Height:5’10

Body type:curvy

Other: She has two beauty marks. One is marked under her right eye. While the other is marked on the top left above her lip.

Personality: She’s a quiet and chill person. People who don’t know her are imitated by her since she has a resting face. She jokes around when she’s with close friends and family; but, when she’s in public she would be neutral until it’s time to head home.

Appearance: Her hair color is black and blonde. The hairstyles she wears is bohemian braids. If she don’t wear braids she wears her hair in an Afro that is very thick and long. She wears beanies everywhere she goes since that’s her signature look. Luna wear vintage band tees as well as TV shows tees. Rip jeans and slit skirts are her favorite jeans/skirts to wear. Luna wears big round sunglasses when she’s on stage and offstage. It helps ease her anxiety when she has to sing on stage or talk to people off stage. So that way you won’t see how nervous she is (eyes tell all). Combat boots and converse’s are her go to shoes. Luna always wear black or red leather jackets. Since it’s the bands signature color. On stage she would wear heavy makeup. When she’s not on stage she would just wear mascara and nude lip gloss.

Voice:Chloe Bailey and Toni Braxton mixed together

Sound:Alternate. She is inspired by Prince, Chase Atlantic, Loveless, RAYE, H.E.R., and The Neighborhood

Hobbies: Plays electronic guitar, acoustic guitar, bass guitar, and piano. She is teaching herself how to play the violin. Luna is into photography and would post from time to time on her photography account when she’s not working.

Relationship: Seven (ex🥲) and a little crush on Orion which she would never pursue since she’s still in love Seven. In the past Luna would call Seven (Sevy or lover boy). While Seven would call her Lulu or songbird. (He mostly call her Lulu since he like teasing her with that nickname). She gets annoyed when he call her Lulu but he’s the only one that is allowed to call her that.

After the breakup let’s say it impacted her greatly. She would stay locked up in her studio looking at pictures of the two them. She still has the tattoo of seven initials that she never got rid of. When Luna is out in public she never cover it up since it’s very meaningful to her. One day while she was practicing on her violin. She started listening

to a song entitled: Blame’s on me by Alexander Stewart. Luna stopped what she was doing and listened to the entire song. She quickly grabbed her notebook and pen and started writing lyrics about him entitled:

“Where did we go wrong?”

You were my everything

It’s supposed to me and you against the world

Now here I am all alone

Without you by my side

Everytime I see you, memories starts flooding in.

We were so close

What happened to us?

Where did we go wrong?

I wish we can go back in time and reverse the mistakes we made.

I guess fate has other plans for us.

Now here we are on the front lines.

Standing face to face.

Two star crossed lovers

On opposite sides

Who were once…friends…

I don’t want to be your rival!

I don’t want to be your enemy!

Darling, open your eyes and see we are on the same side!

Where did we go wrong?

I miss you…I miss us.

Can we start over?

Sadly, reality doesn’t work that way.

The bond is already broken.

Love wasn’t enough to make you stay.

This was the song she decided to perform. Singing her heart out. Letting her audience feel how she felt. Not knowing Seven would arrived momentarily.

(Omg this was long ☠️) I love your story so much I can’t wait for the next chapter! I’m ready for my heart to get broken by Seven all over again☠️🥲😭

#infamous if #oc #seven lawless #omgthis wassolong #this is my first post ever on tumblr

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rabbitenn · 6 months

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Hello, I’d like to request separate HCs for Rikkun and Tenn with an s/o who’s rather mysterious but eccentric, mostly cat-like in nature. She loves and also wears goth/gothic lolita fashion! :D

BE AUTHENTIC.

Under all the dark lace and silent ways, you were loving and often liked to cuddle with him.

ft. Kujo Tenn, Nanase Riku x fem! reader.

cw/genre: fluff.

hello, love ! I’m sorry this took so long… I hope the writing meets your expectations <3 enjoy !

♡ KUJO TENN

— Anyone who knew you would agree that there was more to you than meets the eye.

— Quiet and reserved, but the edge of your smile mirrored the crescent moon rising on starless dusks.

— There was no doubt a cunning soul lay beneath the enigma enshrouding you in shades of mystery.

— And, well, if someone knew about your true nature was your boyfriend.

— Kujo Tenn, the center of TRIGGER is as perceptive as they come; where others might have shied away and assumed you were just naturally withdrawn, he actually made the effort to get to know you, which led to him helplessly falling in love with you.

— The idol wondered at first, who were you really, besides this beautiful person clad in lacy tendrils of night, moving so silently despite your heeled black leather boots.

— And who you were at your core was revealed to him in moments only the two of you were privy to.

— Outside you were pretty quiet, but behind closed doors? You just wanted his cuddles and attention, which, of course, you return.

— With your arms wrapped around your lover’s slim waist, you adore it when his hands comb through your hair, soft headpats making you cuddle further into him.

— You almost reminded Tenn of…

— “Tenn…” You whine when his movements halt, with your face burying further against his stomach. “Don’t stop…”

— …Yes, a cute cat.

— The way you hold him, demanding affection and how you always hugged him when you were relaxing or laying down in bed… To Tenn, you were so precious like this.

— “Tenn!” You call him again, bringing his hand to your head. “Please, I want more headpats…” Comes your pouty request.

— He chuckles, those rosé gaze of him softening, long lashes seemingly dusted in shades of glittery nights fluttering as he regards you.

— “Hmm… Aren’t you needy today?” He teases, thumb brushing over your lower lip.

— Your gaze widens, your breath held as Tenn’s face is inches away from yours.

— Then he leans in, his eyes set on yours, tresses of moondust hair softly tickling your cheek.

— “I think you’re cute.” Your lover whispers, before briefly brushing his lips against yours.

— When he pulls away, you kick your legs happily, as you bury your face into him, cheeks burning.

— Another aspect of you that drew Tenn in was your style.

— The dark shades you don on your clothing, the lace, and silver accessories… They remind him of some of the outfits he sports on stage.

— Tenn also loves the dark ribbons and bows you use on your hair. If you pay close attention, you’ll see his lips curving in soft smiles every time he notices the details you add to your attire.

— He lowkey thinks you could make it in the entertainment industry; your style is gothic with a cute twist. If he didn’t know better, he’d mistake you for an idol or member of a visual kei band.

— Although, in the colder months, some of the dresses you like to wear are definitely not suitable for the unforgiving weather.

— Well, that way he has an excuse to wrap his scarf around your neck, his fingers lingering for a little longer than necessary, brushing against your silver cross shaped dangly earrings.

— And if he’s just finished with a performance, Tenn thinks the coat he was wearing on stage goes perfectly with your fit as he drapes it around your shoulders (he totally steals a kiss from you, pulling you closer by his own coat, now keeping you warm).

♡ NANASE RIKU

— Sunshine and midnight rain.

— That’s what you two resemble at first; you with your dark clothes, shadow and mystery following everywhere you go; him with his big bright eyes, that vibrant hair and his wide smiles.

— But despite your more distant demeanor towards strangers or people that are not your boyfriend, you are super affectionate towards Riku.

— And, naturally, he loves it.

— You’re always holding him in some way: your hand entwined with his, pinkies linked, your head on his shoulder…

— And even though IDOLiSH7’s center was quite shy at first, he just can’t have enough of your affectionate touches.

— Sometimes, you remind him of a cat, with how silently you approach every time you wrap your arms around him from behind; or when you lean against his side on the couch while he reads or watches TRIGGER’s concerts.

— Riku thinks you’re really cool. He’s totally smitten.

— “You know, [Y/n],” he tells you one day, as you curl up beside him in bed while he’s reading. “You remind me of a cat sometimes.”

— You chuckle, sitting up with your legs folded underneath you.

“How so?” You play with the longer strands grazing his cheek, a silky sunset running between your fingers.

— Riku gives you one of his bright smiles.

“Because you’re silent but so affectionate! And you dress in black a lot too, you’re like a black cat!”

— His sincerity is truly endearing, you think, as you lean back against him.

— “You’re too adorable, Rikkun.” You utter, as you kiss his blushing cheek.

— Riku is a fan of your unique outfits too! He loves that at his performances he can spot you instantly, even among hundreds of faces. The dark tulle of your puffed skirts certainly doesn’t go unnoticed, especially not by him, who’s seen you in every single one you own.

— Sometimes you like borrowing Riku’s sweaters, especially when he’s at work. They are soft and smell sweet like him. This way, on nights when you miss him, you can at least slip into dreams where his hugs keep you warm.

— And well, the moment he comes back to the dorms and finds you fast asleep on the couch, your hair half up with bat shaped accessories decorating it, and fishnet tights combined with his red hoodie, your boyfriend’s heart melts.

— He’d love nothing more than to drape himself by your side, holding you close, as the rise and fall of your chest lulls him into sweet dreams with you.

— However, Riku knows he has to be careful and take care of his asthma, he can’t fall asleep wherever.

— So he gently picks you up, carrying you to his bed, where you both snuggle under the warm covers.

— The way you cuddle into him, your soft breaths fanning the side of his neck… You’re just too cute.

— Riku just feels so lucky, to have such a cool and unique s/o; who not only is smart and permanently surrounded by enigmatic allure, but also loves him unconditionally and never gets tired of letting him know.

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markadoo · 4 months

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Homophobic article in GCN, titled He Looks Like Tarzan But Talks Like Jane, complaining about how gay men who present butch aren't actually manly.

Show me a man decked out in a leather jacket, work boots, and a plaid flannel shirt, and three things are immediately evident. He does not own a motorcycle. He is not a construction worker. He is not a lumberjack. He is a fantasy-filled faggot guilty of false advertising. He has never even been on a motorcycle; he drives everywhere in his Olds 88 with Cruisamatic. The only construction work he has ever done is window-dressing for Filene's; for this job, he works in stockinged feet. Work-shoes are strictly for the bars. And if he ever found himself deep in the woods, he would not know what to do.

As a general rule of thumb, the butcher the get-up, the nellier the wearer. This seems particularly true of Boston. If you don't believe it, try these experiments the next time you're in one of Boston's Naugahyde — excuse me, leather — bars.

Move within listening range of the knot of men wearing the most leather and dangling the most keys. Are they heatedly debating the relative merits of BMW cycles and Harley-Davidsons? No? Talking about the homophobic street punks they roughed up on the way to the bar? No? Swapping quiche recipes for Sunday morning brunch? Yup!

Follow that guy to the bar who is wearing leather chaps, leather vest, boots, and earrings through his nipples. Does he order a Scotch-on-the-rocks? No? A Bud? No? A grasshopper, heavy on the creme de menthe? Right!

Although I am a gay man of feminist orientation,

Below these protuberant chests, however, are protuberant stomachs and supporting it all is a pair of skinny, underdeveloped legs. It is nearly impossible to flatten a stomach or develop muscular thighs with barbells and weights. This kind of development takes real effort. Real jock effort. Like swimming or jogging. Baseball. Even football. But these are activities the typical gay weightlifter is unfamiliar with.

When called upon to function in an even remotely "masculine" capacity, these men are helpless. For instance, one icy morning this winter, I found I needed a jump to start my car. [you can guess where this story goes]

I'm not surprised this guy exists, but I am surprised that they ran his rant. Just to highlight how out of place this, is, here's an excerpt from the other article on the same page.

However, we need to recognize that the roots of our common experience as men comes, not from a pregiven entity called "maleness," but from our learned participation in a system of masculinist oppression. As gay people, we recognize that we share an experience of oppression even though we deal with that experience in a variety of ways. Similarly, men are strategically a homogenous group even though in actuality we possess tremendous diversity.

youtube

#gay community news #masculinity is something you have to earn

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zorilleerrant · 6 months

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but pursuant to that post about Brucie Wayne being slutty Batman for Halloween. okay. imagine Gothamites voted in some news channel poll or other. and demanded the Waynes dress up as the Batfam. so they're doing it for charity. ok

Bruce: slutty Batman. choker. bat ear headband. eye shadow

Kate: straight up showed up in leather pants and a bustier. they're not even the right color. her necklace is an official Batwoman product but it's also just a bat on a chain. she did a swirl in her eyeliner to mimic a domino mask. at least she's wearing the right wig.

Beth: Harley Quinn, and getting a lot of flack for it. it's not actually Harley's clothes, but Harley did help her pick them out. it's, like, Batfam Harley, tho, not villain Harley (why are people being so mean when she intentionally didn't dress as Red Alice)

Dick: custom tux designed to be Nightwing blue and black. fitted. gorgeous. little gloves with fingerstripes. actually wearing the same eyeshadow as Bruce and they gave each other dirty looks over it

Luke: an old suit he had, covered in LEDs because he finally got a chance to play with making a lightup suit. no it doesn't do anything but it does have a really convincing Batwing profile, especially once you spotlight him and look at his shadow. he has a domino on to complete the look. it also has LEDs

Jason: not wearing a costume. forgot. also showed up in his red hoodie and leather coat so

Tim: regular tux. Hello My Name Is Red Robin sticker

Steph: easter bunny suit she got on sale (can you believe that??) spray painted purple and with a bat stuck on the front in gold glitter. no it is not sealed yes it is falling everywhere

Cass: totally normal ballgown, not custom made (but fitted). originally Halloween themed, so it does have bats on it, as well as spiders and spiderwebs, in tasteful beads and embroidery. there's a silvery spiderweb collar on it that arguably passes for a Batsymbol. masquerade mask with lots of swirls, black arm length gloves, no her shoes don't have heels but you can't see them either

Damian: his actual Robin costume. refused to wear anything less than the best, plus convenient once something goes wrong. keeps getting corrected on details all night

Duke: cheapest grocery store Signal costume he could find, all foam and weird pointy plastic bits. too small of course, so he added in extra fabric. it is silk. it is NOT the same yellow.

Claire: Gotham Girl themed dress that wasn't intended as a costume, it's just a tennis dress that's in the right colors and patterns. also a hoodie that was originally a Batman hoodie and has an iron-on patch on top of the Batman logo. plus these cool boots she found

Helena: thought they were taking this seriously. is alternately laughing and annoyed. actually contacted a semi-professional cosplayer and commissioned a Huntress costume and appeared in multiple process videos, did a whole promotional photoshoot. she has won an award for it

Babs: carboard boxes that look sort of robot-y with a carefully painted Oracle face, part of a series of projects the library did in the lead-up to this charity event, where kids and teens could make their own costumes. and they wanted to make one for Babs

Alfred: the Batmobile. hand stitched. felt

#look i said something #batman #Maps is also there because the Mizoguchis wouldn't miss a party like this. Maps is Robin. Kyle is reluctantly Batman

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ashecampos · 6 months

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WEB HEAD PT 4

I wake up in Emily’s bed, feeling disoriented and confused. I look around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings - the posters on the wall, the clothes strewn across the floor. I turn to my side and see her, Emily sleeping peacefully beside me. I suddenly feel a wave of emotion wash over me - love, happiness, but also fear. I know that I shouldn’t be here, that I had to leave before anyone found out or came to hurt her because of me. But i cant bring himself to move. Suddenly, i hear a noise from outside the door - footsteps approaching. My heart races as i realise that we might not be alone. My mind goes into panic mode and i leap out of the bed trying my best not to disturb the sleeping beauty on the bed, i place the zip up hoodie i was wearing last night over her shoulders to keep her warm on this cold morning.

The footsteps only seem to get louder as if someone is pacing around in the hallway outside her apartment. Grabbing my phone and backpack i swiftly open the door and leave closing it gently not to wake Emily up from her slumber.

Once in the hallway i come face to face with a tall fella, his muscular build would intimidate any of the men on the rugby team, he sports a black outfit and black hair tied back in a sort of man bun esc style. He looks familiar but i ignore it as i walk past him and unlock my phone. I call Tess and ask her what her father needed so urgently last night, she answers with some stupid excuse saying he needed her to help her mom with some chores. I know what her family is like, her dad is a mega duche bag who thinks just because he is in the army he can go around treating his own daughter like he does, her mom is a sweetheart but sadly doesn’t stand her ground when Tess’ father treats Tess like shit, i mean I understand it must be hard because she loves him but I don’t know the whole story.

Once I’m out of the apartment building I tell Tess I will call her back as soon as I have a better source of wifi and hang up the phone and instantly feel as if I am being followed, as if there is eyes everywhere looking at me, knowing my secret, knowing who I am and what I have done.

Initially I don’t see him but I catch a glimpse of dark clothing and my attention is caught by the shine of a metal arm, I look up to the man’s face and my heart drops. It’s the man from before but now he is sporting a leather vest, black cargo pants and heavy duty boots. I try not to make it obvious I have seen him but I know who it is and I know all that is going to come from this encounter will be trouble. The winter soldier stands a mere few feet away from me.

Pulling me out of my trance he says “hey kid come here” in a low raspy voice, I turn to look at him and he nods as if to confirm he was indeed talking to me. I hesitate but slowly make my way over, my fight or flight just about ready to tune in. He lifts his metal arm up, and I get ready to fight. Instead he holds it in front of his torso ready to shake my hand. “I have been sent here from the avengers headquarters in search for a young group of talented individuals with powers much like your own, want to join the new age of hero’s…Spider-Man” he says with little to no hesitation or doubtful tone in his words. I look up at him and he smiles making me want to trust him. After a few seconds I collide my hand with his and complete the gesture. We walk and talk for a few hours before exchanging numbers and agreeing to meet up at a base in a few days so I can meet some other kids on the ‘squad’.

my legs taking me as fast as they can, I run to Tess’ house, I knock on the door violently and not even a second later she opens the door, walking inside I notice her parents aren’t home, great. We both walk to her living room and I sit on the floor while she opts for the sofa, I look up at her and smile. “If your going to tell me you got lucky with Miss lover girl, please spare me, I don’t need to know about what you two get up to” she smirks, I dramatically place my hand on my chest and act offended “I don’t kiss and tell” I say my voice cracking, “moving on from whatever that was, why are you so bouncy?” She queries seeming really intrigued

“So y’know the winter soldier, captain Americas boyfriend. He found me. Like the avengers know who I am, so he personally came up to me and asked me to join this new group of sorta young avengers, do you think I should do it?” I spill the gossip in practically one breath. She looks at me like im insane. A bit delusional if you will. She sits there and just stares at me for a good minute before speaking. “Y/N this isn’t a good idea, it seems a bit shady that the winter soldier just found you like that, especially when only me and Emily know that you are the Spider-Man” she starts by saying the logically inclined things that I didn’t think of. “I mean they have the starks database which probably found me, I mean it’s not like I have a whole suit so it would be pretty easy to notice me I guess” I try to rationalise how he could’ve found me. Tess shakes her head at me and sighs, maybe I shouldn’t take up his offer. Me and Tess sit in her living room watching movies about super hero’s, not that I was taking much notice to them anyway, Tess looks at me then the screen then back to me, she starts to smirk with a devious smile, this grabs my attention “why are you smiling like that? Are you possessed? Oh please say you’re possessed” she stands up and walks to her kitchen “have you tested your powers yet?” She questions, I think for a second all I know is that I can shoot webs, stick to stuff and have this weird new thing where I can sense when something bad will happen “uh no why? What are you conjuring Tess?” I say while slowly standing up. I follow her out to her garden. The garden we grew up causing chaos in, we had tie dyed clothes and chased each other with a water hose in this garden. She goes in the shed and grabs a ton of weapons “woah hey no nope not today Satan” I say holding my hands up backing away, she chuckles and drops them on the grass “we need to test your powers y/n, cmon it’ll be fun” she says. With a roll of my eyes I come closer and sit on the grass looking up at her waiting for her tests. “Wait we should call Kate over” she says while pulling out her phone, Kate is our multitalented friend who never backs down from a challenge. She’s a few years older than us but somehow has never faced the challenge of growing up. I sigh and let Tess call her, she quickly start blabbering about how she has the Spiderman in her garden and how Kate should get here asap. Because of this I quickly go grab my backpack and throw the no effort quickly made suit on.

About ten minutes later Kate comes running into the garden, she takes one look at me and covers her mouth with her hand and whispers “y/n/n?” Shocked. I groan and whisper “shit” she noticed me straight away, I’m in so much trouble because if miss golden retriever Kate Bishop can recognise me after a second of seeing me that means anyone can recognise me that fast. I need a better suit.

#reader insert #x y/n #avengers #the avengers #trans spiderman #spider man #spider person #tess and y/n #webhead #y/n being a golden retriever friend

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leatherneck-70-blog · 2 months

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He wakes from his deep sleep. Leatherman Armando lays in his leather sheeted bed so comfortable and black shiny. Totally naked. He feels the smooth leather all over his body. His dick hard all night. He loves the horniness he gets. Having to go take piss He pulls the sheet from himself and reaches for his Black Shiny Leather long cop boots and pulls them on his barefeet one at a time. He gets up off the bed and starts walking down the hall to his bathroom. The precum stains on his leather mattress sheets you can see from himself playing with himself through the night. His boots cluck. He believes anywhere he goes even if it's to the bathroom you must wear something leather. His favorite thing to wear in the morning first piss is his boots. Standing at his toilet his still hard dick let's it's piss out. He let's out a moaning but still leather crackle from his mouth. His dick long and dripping precum as he pisses. He finishes and flushes the toilet. Before he leaves the bathroom he opens up a vaseline can and reaches in and runs it through his hair. Reaching forhis comb on his sink he slicks it back. His now black shiny hair he gets harder and hornier in his dick. Walking back hearing his boots cluck,he grabs his black leather jacket and puts it on. Walking around his apartment he heads to his black leather couch and sits on it. Laying on his back of his couch. He lays his neck on the arm of the couch. Reaching for a pair of long leather elbow length gloves he has on the coffee table in front of him. He puts them on. You can the creaking as the gloves tighten on his hands. Laying there you see his adams apple long and big bobb up and down as his neck lays on the couch arm. He loves neck torture play. He grabs his neck and rubs his adams apple. His dick pulsates and gets harder. Squeezing his neck and feeling the sensation of himself torturing his neck he feels he needs something else. His black leather belt from coming home last night lays on the top part of the couch. He grabs it and places it around his neck. Gripping with both leather hands he pulls tight as he can. He starts to choke and his dark mexican skinned face starts to go red. His tongue popped out of his mouth. He starts cough and choke louder. His chest going up and down. His dick hard and long let out so much precum. He turns around staggering on the couch. His now purple face drooling out Leatherman saliva juice on all over his couch. He starts to fuck his couch from all of the precum. Sliding and and fucking his couch as he coughs and chokes violently. He let's out a loud garrote as he shoots his Leatherman cum all over his couch. Sliding off the couch he lays on the ground as he pulls the belt from around his neck. Coughing and gasping for air. The color comes back into his face but his grayish smoke colored eyes are blood shot still. Leathing against the leather couch he's just fucked. His dick lightly hard still and still wet. He turns and looks at the couch full of his cum. He gets up and sits on the couch and bends forward and goes in and starts to lick up his cum. It's still hot and warm. Itstaste absolutely delicious. Feeling cum slide down in his throat as he swallows it down with that deep gulp in his throat. His Adam's Apple bobbing and he crackling delicious moans come from deep inside him. Licking and cleaning everywhere he drooled and cummed on his couch. Then he pats it on the seat part and says. Well do you do this tomorrow again. Walking away from his couch. The cluck of his boots as he walks away he still has his belt laying on his shoulders and back of his leather jack he lightly squeezes his neck again just to get his tongue to pop out as he walks to go take a shower and get ready for his Leatherman day where he'll be completely Leathered. Pants and all.

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mutifandomlover · 1 year

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30 DAYS WRITING CHALLENGE.

Day 4:Write about your MCs personal style.

From:@creativepromptsforwriting.

Vince Graham:Vince wears a white long-sleeved shirt with a light blue sweater vest. He also wears tacky pants with a black belt and silver buckle. Lastly, he has on black dress shoes. He doesn't wear any jewelry or anything in his hair, but he is sometimes seen with safety goggles and gloves in his garage when working on his inventions. He is a well organized person, and his outfit represents that. He's also a smart person, so his outfit also reflects his interest in books. Mainly books about machinery.

Shujin Ishikawa:Shujin wears a plain black kimono with green trim and a green belt around his waist. He also wears black sandals. He usually wears this because of his ultimate talent, which is the ultimate samurai. His family also has traditional japanese values. So he's used to wearing a kimono.

August Renning:August usually wears a white long-sleeved shirt with a red vest, black pants, and black dress shoes. He also wears black gloves on almost everywhere he goes. He dresses in a professional manner because he is influenced by his father to dress appropriately with his job, and since he's a pizzeria manager, he feels that he needs to look neat and tidy with his outfit. He also has some scars that he tries to hide and yes, they're some on his hands.

Lindsey Bolton:Lindsey is usually seen wearing a yellow shirt. A brown leather jacket with white fuzz at the ends of it. Blue jeans and purple sneakers. She also wears glasses that have a bifocal on both lenses. Her hair is also dyed yellow, blue, green, and purple. She even has a silver ring with an emerald gemstone. That's her birth month stone. Lindsey is a free spirit and believes in freedom for others. She doesn't like oppression or anything that takes away people's ideas. Her outfit reflects her outgoing personality. The four colors in her hair also represent her powers. Yellow and blue are her abilities involving sand and water, aka an oasis. Green represents her ability to summon and control certain spirits. Purple represents how she talks to the dead and brings the dead from the spirit world.

Zleopatra:As Pharaoh of Egypt, Zleopatra wears the traditional fashion in his country. A white robe with a light blue and gold belt around his waist. He also wears golden sandals and golden jewelry. He had an amulet that was the Eye of Horus. He wears black eyeliner around his eyes. White was a common color for royalty, and it was associated with the gods. He also has a coat of lion skin that he wears at parties to show off his wealth. He represents his kingdom and Horus, so his outfit reflects his dignity and grace.

Zaseem Abubakar:Zaseem wears a black and gold sleeved top, white baggy pants, and curly-toed black shoes. He also has gold and silver gauntlets, multiple colored amulet, black and gold shoulder pads, gold and silver earrings, and a gold and silver ring. He is King of the Djinns, and his outfit reflects his connection to light and dark, as well as the different elements that he controls.

Ophelia Brown:Ophelia wears a white long-sleeved shirt with a purple necklace, a long brown skirt, and black dress shoes. She dresses in a simple manner and is a follower of God. Later on in life, she still wears the same outfit but added a few things to it. She now has a purple witch hat with a black ribbon around it, a purple vest, and amethyst jewelry. She becomes a witch due to certain events that ended up getting her family killed, and she uses her magic to protect her friends and loved ones that remain.

Ventus:Ventus wears classic armor to defend himself with in battle. Helmet, chest plate, leggings, and boots. When he's not on an adventure, he's wearing a blue tunic, pants, and brown shoes. He considers himself a hero, so he usually takes his armor with him and shows off his skills to others.

Geo Stelar:Geo has a small update on his outfit in my MMSF4 story. He still has his green visualizer, golden star-shaped pendent, red long-sleeved shirt with white shoulder markings, yellow detailing, and a closed collar. A large yellow band around his waist and a light blue belt with a silver buckle for his back pockets. Dark blue knee-length shorts and his red boots with white and black soles, as well as small yellow protrusions on his heels. Red fingerless gloves with yellow squares on their back. Now he has a blue and green jacket with SS on the back, which stands for Shooting Star, and a moonlight colored wristband around his right wrist. Geo's new outfit represents the change in his character after joining the Maverick Hunters and going on the codename Shooting Star. The wristband around his arm is something that he found that ends up helping him out a lot during his adventures when he returns as Mega Man X after not having the save the world for eight years.

Wright:Wright is an animatronic fox from the Fazbear franchise that never actually debuted in any of the locations throughout its history. She was more of a test runner for the other animatronics. Technology, endoskeletions, and even different animatronic suits were put on and in her to test them out and iron out any problems. She was mainly seen with a bowtie since it was planned for her to be in the band with Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica. That day never came. However, as time went on, Wright became aware that she was a machine and began learning how to take care of herself after her creator died. She travels to lots of different places and usually finds something to take with her as a trinket. She ditched the bowtie and began wearing a yellow banana around her neck. She also wears sunglasses over her head. She also has a tacky shirt and a black sweater jacket and a tacky skirt. She doesn't wear any shoes because there aren't any that fit her, so she wraps her feet with these rolls of bandages that she found. She does the same with her hands. She started wearing clothes as a way to fit in with people and to be like her own person since she had no interest in being in Fazbear's after learning about what purpose she served to them.

#original character #dropkickwritersblock #writing #writing challenge #writing prompt #main character information #april challenge

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