#its mud not blood dont worry

[makeitlookdecent]

[ x-2-3-4 ]

#little big brother! #its mud not blood dont worry #edit: im osrry its just. i feel like i drew a reallly nice sink #and i need ppl (who browse tags) to know that i enjoy the sink i drew in the first panel #the file name is literally “damn. what a nice looking sink. im so good at this art sh itsso easy” #srry i had to get that off my chest

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

karma is my boyfriend // fred weasley x fem reader

playlist : karma - taylor swift

summary: when two girls bully and belittle you in the corridors , they seem to have forget the antics your boyfriend likes to pull on bullies.

y/n used , muggleborn gryffindor reader , swearing , bullying , short

masterlist

"ew , what is she looking at?" you heard one of the slytherin girls walking next to you say to her friend , both of them pointing at you and errupting into ear deafening giggles.

you turned to look at her confused , you hadnt glanced their way once , you just minded your business in the crowed corridor on the way to lunch.

"the fuck are you looking at? can i help you mudblood?!" the girl said loudly staring right at you.

"what did you just call me?" you asked with pure shock , you hadnt even done anything?

"i called you a mud. blood. what are you deaf? ugly cow." she giggled with her friend again as you winced at the loud noise hitting your ears.

you werent sure how to respond to this , you were all on your own and confronting the girl anymore would just create a large conflict , one you werent in the mood for.

your eyes welled up with tears as you looked away from the teasing and bitchy girls , shoving your way through the crowd and ignoring the dirty looks you recieved as a result.

----

you finally arrived in the great hall and sat down at the gryffindor table , next to angelina as she quickly went to greet you.

"hey y/n!- oh merlin whats wrong?!" shes said with quickly rising worry upon seeing your teary eyes and frowning face.

this caught freds attention as he observed your face , a deep anger and protectiveness settling in the pit of his stomach at the sight.

"baby whats wrong?" he said softly as you tried to hold back your tears.

"nothing it...it was just these slytherins. girls can be really horrible sometimes , "you voice broke as you forced out light laughs , eventhough no one laughed with you or even smiled.

"what did they say?" katie said , brushing your hair softly to comfort you.

"they just randomly started going off on me for looking at them , eventhough i didnt even look! then they...um they called me a mudblood." you mumbled the last part as everyone gasped and fred seethed.

"seriously?! thats fucking horrible!" angelina screeched in shock.

"im so sorry y/n," hermione added with a look of sympathy , relating to your situation.

"dont worry its fine guys-" you were cut off hastily.

"who." a deep voice said , freds darkened eyes meeting yours.

you gulped at the sight of his unfiltered rage , "i think theyre called lucy and-"

"lucy and beatrice. of course it was them ,theyre proper bullies." ron confirmed as everyone let out nods of recognition , the two girls were known for their unecessary awfulness. yet they never seemed to get taught a lesson.

well that was until they were found screaming and running through the corridors the next day , hair neon green , boils covering their faces , rain clouds chasing after them - drenching them in water and slugs ocassionally spewing out of their mouths.

you gaped at the sight , fred who had his arm around you showing no reaction but a smug grin.

"merlin! i wonder what happened to them?!" you exclaimed to him.

"yeah...i wonder" he smirked as you quickly caught on and gasped.

"you didnt!" you smacked his chest lightly , met by him laughing.

"of course i did!" he grinned , "no one messes with my girl. i was simply using them to set an example."

you stared up at him with you jaw on the floor , yet adoration glossed your eyes over , "thank you freddie."

"dont mention it , once these ones wear off i have another set of hexes prepared for them. thank me later love," he shrugged with a satisfied smile.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter #hp fanfic #taylor swift #x reader #hp fandom #hp #gryffindor #george weasley #george weasly x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley #weasleys #weasley twins #fred and george #ron weasley #angelina johnson #katie bell #slytherin #x y/n #fluff #karma #karma is my boyfriend #the stars are brighter tonight masterlist

[girldreaming]

cherry waves

subby!abby x reader blurb

porn without plot kind of day >:) abby the deftones princess

summary: sex with abby and she goes all mushy and subby bc i can’t stop thinking about her <3

warnings: nsfw, choking/breath play but mostly hand on throat abby receiving, finger sucky, fingering abby receiving, oral but no description, horny

wc: 1.3k lil shortie

all lowercase and not really proofread

minors go away please I will block you!!

literally no plot just sex under the cut!

“fuck, that feels so good,” abby whines, her right hand leaving its place on your head and going straight to her mouth, teeth biting into the knuckle of her index finger.

for as long as you'd known abby you'd known about her habit of putting things in her mouth, "its like, i dont know, my dad told me it was called an oral fixation, or something, apparently had it since i was a baby," she'd said to you before, when you asked her why she was always nibbling on her fingertips, always biting you - always sinking her teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs, your stomach.

"s' comforting, that's all," she'd smile.

you hum, pushing her thighs apart and they stay, a clear indication you’re beginning to pull out that part of her, the one you only catch glimpses of when you’ve got abby on her back, or on her knees.

she was tired, had just gotten back from a three-day patrol, fresh stitches adorning her arm, blossoms of purple maculating her skin. you'd helped her clean her fingernails, dirt, and blood packed underneath them and encrusted onto her cuticles.

“that was fucking brutal.” she sighed as she walked into your shared space, you waiting for her with tea in the kitchen. she’d looked rough too, her clothes caked with mud and her hair barely kept in the braid you'd done. she was quick to drop her pack and walk over to you, careful not to touch you with her rather grimy hands, leaning her head down to drop a much-needed peck.

it wasn’t long before you'd sent her to the bathroom for a shower, offering to join her but she declined. “you smell like home, don’t you dare.” she’d said, a small "sit with me?" spilling from her lips.

which of course you did, her talking through what she experienced and you glad she couldn’t see your face as it would twist with worry.

but you had her now, you were taking care of her and she was so safe.

“yeah?” you ponder, breath fanning against her core. It always made you feel so powerful when she got this way, gave you an idea of how she must feel all the time.

made fucking sense with the ego she seems to have.

All she can do in response is nod, not a shut up or fuck you. a gentle, slow nod. Her eyebrows are so raised, so furrowed it looks like she's about to start crying.

“abby, it’s okay.” you whisper, your free hand running up the length of her stomach to take her hand out of her mouth, replacing it with your thumb. her spit wet fingers clasp around your wrist, keeping your thumb in her mouth, tongue swirling against the pad of it, teeth just grazing the tip of your nail.

the feeling of her groaning against your own flesh goes straight to the pit of your stomach, a small sound making its way out of you in response. the vibration alone enough to make you feel like you were floating.

abby pulls your hand down, fingers sitting atop yours as she places your hand on her throat, in order to reach, you take your mouth off of her slit, fingers still working their way in and out.

you get up from your own position and push your weight up onto your knees, kneeling in between her own, your body slightly leaning over hers.

can't get over how good she looks right now, how well she’s taking your fingers, your hand on her throat. her eyes big and wide and her wet hair in pieces sticking to her forehead.

“you look so pretty, abs.” you breathe and her eyes close, creases and wrinkles replacing the blue you’re used to.

“so pretty when i fuck the words outta you, huh?” you add, testing your luck.

she laughs, the sound muffled by the hand on her throat. the sound is so low and long, her body shaking softly from the force of it.

“think i like you better with your mouth on my cunt, big shot.” she chuckles, her eyes unscrewing, a smile replacing the lust-driven frown she always got. it's nice to know she was still in there somewhere.

“cant be mean now, i know you’re close, can barely move my fingers.” you just can’t seem to stop hitting the squishy pad of tissue buried inside of her, your hooked fingers relentlessly pressing and prodding. a squeeze here and there, she liked that didn’t she.

“fuck yes.” her head tilts back, thighs wanting so badly to squeeze around your forearm. you begin to move your hand off of her throat, wanting to put your mouth back on her as well but you’re shocked when her hand grips yours, tightening your hold.

“don’t, gonna cum like this.” she’s nodding again, eyes opened slightly, looking down at you but unwilling to make direct eye contact. this was definitely a first, you thought. abby always begged you for your mouth, always needed something on her clit to cum.

then you realize, she’s looking at your fingers, mouth agape. she’s in awe at the sight of them, the only noises bouncing off the walls being abby’s stuttered breathing and the wetness your fingers keep fucking in and out of her.

“please,” she whimpers, hand leaving yours on her throat and going to her inner thigh, pinching and grabbing at the skin there, trying to keep her own legs open. she’s still looking at your glistening fingers working into her, eyes drifting up your forearm to your chest, and finally your face.

your hand leaves her throat then, pressing into the belly of her stomach, feeling her abs tense. you were trying to hold her down, knowing the way her hips would soon be bucking. you pick up one of your knees, placing it on top of her thigh, not enough to hurt but enough for her to feel it if she tried to squirm, your other knee spreading her legs wider.

“i want it, abs, want you to come,” you reassure her and she groans, hips rocking against your fingers despite your hand pressing them down.

“been so good.” she whines, eyes fluttering up towards yours.

don’t know about that, you thought, but fuck, you didn’t want to ruin her moment.

you nod at her, thumb starting to rub at her clit.

“so good, mouse.” you lie, feeling her body tense and your fingers get squished as her walls contract, her breathing picking up into whimpers that swell into moans, her eyes leaving yours as her head tilts back, hand shooting to your wrist, holding it still.

you don’t know where the nickname came from if it was because of her mousy blonde hair, the quiet nature she had when you first met her, or the way she was everywhere all the time. her tendency to steal your food, waiting around so she could have whatever was left. she was simply - in spirit - similar to a mouse.

your thumbs slow their circles, but her chest continues to heave, bicep coming up to cover her face, wipe the sweat, you’re not really sure. your fingers leave her, her hand retreating up to her chest, palm resting against her heart. her damp towel still sits on the bed, and you grab it to wipe your hand off, abby's eyes following your every movement.

“fuck.” she pants, blinking a few times.

you rub at her thighs, trying to get her to relax by drawing circles, watching her breathing slow.

“hmm, c’mere,” she manages, motioning you over to her with her hands.

she pulls you into her chest, both of you bare and warm and frankly, a bit sticky. it’s quiet for a moment, her arms wrapping you up into her and her lips sloppily kissing your head.

“you okay?” you whisper into her chest.

“i’m good, baby.” she says back into your ear. you pull yourself up, supported by your elbows so your stomach is on top of hers, planting a soft kiss to her lips. her hand goes to your jaw, pulling you back in.

“be better if you were sitting on my face though.” she doesn’t miss a beat.

#abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x reader

[aita-blorbos]

(tma oc ask content warning for canon typical levels of buried fuckery)

am i the asshole for driving away my friend?

hey reddit . im posting from a throwaway bc i dont want people connecting this to my work (though i doubt youve heard of me anyways) but i think i messed up terribly and i want to know if this is something i can still fix

also sidenote sorry if my grammar or punctuation or word choice or anything of that sort are poor. i have not been sleeping well for some time

i (19m) am a video game developer. its been my passion for years now and i am currently in uni studying computer games development and programming and level design . although i have considered dropping out but thats a point for later . i post on itch io and such and sometimes i make flash games but idk if anyone reading this has played a single one

its been a bit of a hard time for me, if im being honest. i really like games and i really liked making them but i dont think im very good at programming or art or level design or any of the other things that go into the process of making a game . at least a profitable and fun one .

so i ended up coming to this computer science study group in the hopes maybe someone could teach me to be better at programming. and i met this girl. i dont know exactly how old she is, but i want to say she was maybe two or three years ahead of me in her schooling, so probably about 22. anyways lets call her E

E was studying pure computer science and wanted to do it at a high level . so of course she was pretty good at helping me with my really rudimentary programming stuff . and she was friendly and funny and we liked hanging out so we ended up being good friends . she actually complimented my games, once i got them to function, and said my pixel art was cute . my point is we were close . maybe we wouldn’t have been so close if we had anyone else, but i was still new and she was pretty lonely .

really shortly after i met her though i started having fucked up dreams. ok that’s not entirely accurate because i had been having fucked up dreams on occasion for a while . but they got worse and she showed up in them. it was all me locking her in stairwells hitting her over the head and piling earth over her body filling her mouth with mud and cement. terrible things

so i stopped sleeping. i tried not to at least. im pretty sure most uni kids pull all nighters. i know i did even when i was younger. but i wasnt studying for exams or whatever. i was just trying and trying to force myself awake and i started to lose it a bit. my grip on things. it felt like i was sleepwalking through classes and even like i was dreaming when i was awake. id nod off for a moment in a lecture and id feel dirt caked on my hands under my fingernails. and no matter how much i scrubbed and how much i knew with my eyes it wasnt there it just. refused to come off . and it felt like her blood

i don’t remember how we got on the topic but i remember she told me how she always worried a little bit about being trapped . like claustrophobia of a flavor that shows itself in locked doors and thick walls and collapsing underground stations. that made me feel even more odd about the whole thing . of course i felt awful about hurting her but that part of it was like a joke i didn’t get

and then weirdly enough i got really into nineties 3D games. they have these skyboxes that make it really obvious they’re not actually infinite . and i thought that was kind of interesting in context. like the whole world is a box you’re in so why worry so much about if the stairwell door will lock behind you

i kind of started thinking that was something i would like to replicate with my art . like if i put all my issues into one game they would be out of my brain and gone . maybe it could even be pleasant without the whole preying on my friends terror thing

so now we get to the part of the story where i fear i really really messed up . i made this game . and honestly i dont remember the development very well . sleep deprivation is a dreadful thing . i remember again and again while i was making it kind of coming to my senses not knowing where i was and finding massive parts of the game that i didnt remember making at all.

it was set in a stairwell but i dont remember buying or making the models for the door . there was a really weird kind of way the game functioned with an infinite path going up but how that functioned i couldnt tell you . and i dont remember composing the audio or where i might have downloaded it from except that i never liked to listen to it for very long . i dont know why i kept it in the game

i always showed my games to E but i really wanted her to see this one in particular. so she came by my flat and played it and then i remember she just glared at me . there was something to the look she gave me . it was like she was completely horrified and was trying to pretend she was just angry instead

she hasnt spoken to me since . and i think i fucked up . i knew it was playing at her issues and i think maybe i even made it at least subconsciously to pry at them. like the same part of me with dirt under my fingernails was also sitting there typing away on that keyboard .

but at the same time its just a game . and im better at programming now too . like something just clicked there

honestly though development lately has been weird. its been hard trying to go back to the old sort of pixel art platformers and shoot em ups and that kind of thing i used to make. every time i open any program its like im just staring at it and imagining skyboxes. putting it all in a box imprisoning every world i make that kind of thing. like i said earlier ive been considering dropping out. but i dont know. i think id need to sleep on it

i still have weird fucked up dreams but E isnt in them anymore . i dont know where shes gone . i think maybe my idea worked somehow and i did transfer all that shit to my art . and then that just all went right to her . but i dont know if i like that idea or hate it

anyways reddit am i the asshole?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

[catyo90]

Starstruck: Elendil x GN!Reader

Anonymous Request: Short Drabble

SOME SPOILERS FOR THE SILMARILLION. SO IF YOU DONT WANT TO KNOW THE CANON OF SOME THINGS. YOUVE BEEN WARNED

The stars were high in the sky as they danced around the moon as you looked over the horizon seeing the sun setting over the waves making the waves look like shattered glass as they crashed along side of the ship. The ocean made you feel at home the most, you’d spent a lot of your time on the beach as a child. Despite having a great love and desire for the ocean, there was always a small hint of fear of the deep and because of that, you were a little afraid having been at sea for so long.

It had been weeks since the faithful set sail for middle earth. You were part of Elendils crew and had somehow been separated from Isildur and Anarion ships during a horrible storm that caused the ships to go in opposite directions. Now with Numenor gone Elendil decided it was best to make straight for the lands otherwise the others would run out of food and fresh water before they arrived. 

The last you saw of your home was the great wave taking the island back into the sea as flames of Sauron's temple to his master Melkor extinguished into nothing but mud and ash. As the screams of those who stayed behind echoed on the waves reaching no help. You recalled the sight of the Queen Regent being taken by the sea as her cry to Valar fell silent. You closed your eyes in pain from the memory of seeing her fall into the depths below. The weeks before the ships left you begged her to flee with you, but she would not. She was a Numenorian, she would not leave her home no matter how much it had defiled.

 Now you had no home and only the hope of you and your family would reach the northern shows of middle earth where Elendil had confided in you that the people would rebuild. However the days had now stretched into weeks as no land had come into sight. In truth you felt it was not to be for the ships to reach the land.

“Surprised to see you up so late Y/n”

You turned around with your journal and quill in one arm as you looked at him as he looked over your shoulder to see you writing the accounts of the days before.

“It is best not to dwell on the past.” He said as he stepped forward leaning over the railing looking outward across the sea rubbing his hands together. You saw his worry for his sons. You closed the journal and placed it down on the deck bringing yourself to stand next to him placing a gentle hand on his shoulder causing him to look at you for a moment before smiling a half hearted smile as he placed a hand over your own.

“They are strong and stubborn boys Elendil, I believe they are safe. It is us that I worry more every day. No birds for days and no sight of land either. Perhaps it would be better to make a floating city on the ocean itself.”

Elendil chuckled to himself for a moment as he sighed. You smiled only for a moment hearing him chuckle. It had been so long since you heard him laugh or at least so himself in any sort of relaxed manner. 

“I would not blame you, you know, if you decided to simply leave to find your sons in the south.”

Elendil looked at you with a slightly hurt look.

“You think I would abandon them in search of my own?”

“Not abandon. Just...at least find something to give you hope. After all no one would blame if you did. Any parent would understand.”

“My sons can handle their own, they have each other and their families. Its time I focused on helping those who need me more.”

He stopped for a moment as he looked down at you. You couldn’t help but admire the silver hue of his eyes. They were not common in many Numenorians but only in those who had more blood of Elros in their families. Even his name meant both ‘lover of stars’ and ‘elf friend’, clearly truth in both ways to him. You had always admired him not just a a captain of the guard but also just as he was.

“Your not wrong, as long as I have known you and your sons, they somehow always managed to get into and out of trouble seemingly okay.”

Elendil smiled and noticed you were rubbing your hands against your arms shivering at the cold ocean air. He walked over to the side of the ship and grabbed a small fur cloak and walked over from behind placing it on your shoulders and clasping the pins to your guard uniform. You smiled at the gesture as you clung to the cloak a little tighter. You saw him offer his arm out for you to take.

“You need all the warmth you can get.”

You feel your cheeks flushing slightly at this, but you take hold of his arm and just hold on step a little closer to him. You stay close to his side, clutching his arm with yours wrapped around his back.

You looked up and noticed the stars appearing out of the sky more and more. The sight of constellations you had never seen before made you smile. Elendil looked up and leaned over to you and pointed up just a bit to the side.

“That one is Telumendil.”

You saw it was quite beautiful with five small stars connected to one very bright star, you looked at Elendil and smirked.

“Telumendil huh? I have a sneaky suspicion that means something close to your own name.”

“Well your not wrong, it means ‘Lover of the Heavens’

You smiled to yourself as you saw the last of the suns light recede away and the moon started to show more clearly. 

“Such a beautiful sight.” He said looking out onto the ocean. You snuck a glance out of the corner of your eye to look up at him and smiled to yourself as you thought that he was actually what made the night even more beautiful. 

-

After an hour you felt yourself starting to feel a bit drowsy as you wiped your eyes trying to keep them open. Elendil had noticed you yawn and gestured for you to go downstairs to retire for the night.

“Oh no, I’ll be alright. I still have so much writings to record. Besides someone needs to keep a look out.”

“Y/n, your chilled and clearly need rest. I’ll have one of the others to join me to finish up for you.”

You hated when he was right, you trying to recount everything for the records and history of those who would come after. You felt it was your only way to keep those who had died back in Numenor from being forgotten. You leaned down and grabbed the journal you had earlier and nodded to him in agreement. You were starting to feel your exhaustion coming along quicker than you expected as you grasped the side of the railing. Suddenly you felt two arms around you, one at your shoulders and one under your legs lifting you into a bridal style. You couldn’t help but gasp at the gesture as you turned your gaze up to him with a small blush on your cheeks, secretly you were thankful the night was hiding it.

“There’s no need for that Elendil. I’ll be alright to get to my room on my own.”

“It’s alright Y/n, besides you’ve been up for three days straight. Better safe than sorry.”

You simply nodded in agreement as you walked both of you down the stairs. You felt so warm being held by him in such a way. You could smell the scent of sea salt on him but also a hint of pine which made you sigh a bit making your whole body become more and more relaxed. Even in your groggy state though you had sensed that you both at reached the side of the far back room as you felt him sliding the door away. Elendil saw the room was filled with unfinished scrolls and books open with notes written in the margin. Even some of the candles you had lit earlier still dripped some wax onto the small desk you usually would be found at. The bed to the far right was perhaps the only thing not covered in work.

“Hard at work I see?”

You lightly tapped at his chest but you were too tired to even come up with a remark. In truth you had wished you knew he would ever see your room, if you had you would have cleaned it up. You felt him walk over to the side of the bed lowering you down into the soft sheets as he look the journal from your hand and placed it on the nearby nightstand and the quill back in the inkwell. Elendil turned to face you to see that your breathing was slower and a bit steadier knowing that soon you really would be asleep for the night. He sighed at the sight of your sleeping form. He looked down at your feet and gently took off the boots you wore and placed them down by the side of the bed and unpinned the heavy cloak from your back and draped it over your lower body knowing it would keep you warmer that way.

“Get some rest Y/n”

He said as he stood up and was about to blow the nearby candle out but was stopped by you gently taking a hold of his hand that was at his side.

“Elendil...How have you kept your faith?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gave you a slightly puzzled look.

“During the great wave?”

You shook your head.

“No I mean now...Our home is now nothing but ruin, Your sons are so far away from you and the people are looking to you everyday for guidance. How...how have you not lost faith?”

He was silent for a moment before he spoke looking down at you.

“Tar-Miriel told me once that the faithful must suffer many losses as a test. I thought years ago I had lost my son when we first ventured to Middle Earth. I thought right then and there that my faith had failed me. But when he returned. I understood what she meant when she said that. Even her last words to you were of complete faith that our home would survive.”

He looked down at you and smiled to himself at the sight before him. Your hair was pressed into the pillow with your arms across your torso loosely as the sleep in your eyes could not hide the beauty of your own. It was always his eyes that captivated him every time he saw you. He enjoyed your company far more than many and felt a way around you that he had not felt in a long time. He took his hand to lay on top of yours and smiled to you.

“I have you Y/n...Not many are lucky enough to have someone like you with them.”

You gave a weak smiled as you felt your body relax more and more into the bed. You squeezed his hand in yours and spoke once more before you truly were taken by sleep.

“You always....will.”

Elendil smiled to himself as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead taking a moment to himself as he carefully moved his hand from yours and took a gentle grasp on the blankets to the side and covered you. He sat off the bed and stood up to walk over the desk and snuffed out the rest of the candles as he walked over to the doorway and looked over at your sleeping form once more before gently closing the door.

-

You felt your body gently being nudged as you opened your eyes to see Elendil’s silver ones meeting yours. 

“Y/n... We’ve landed”

Your eyes went wide as you quickly stood up from the bed walking past him forgetting about your shoes as you walked up the stairs and saw the ship had indeed anchored to see deep woods stretched over the mountains to see the others walking off the ship as the families wept with joy knowing they had arrived safety. You turned to Elendil and couldn’t help but smile at him as you walked you off the ship. You smiled as you felt the sand underneath your feet as birds flew above you whistling as the warmth from the sun made your skin feel warm even against the cold sea breeze. You turned around to Elendil smiling at the fact that after reaching shore after an extremely harrowing past few days/weeks. Suddenly you saw him step onshore and collapse to his knees on the sand, utterly exhausted. 

You kneeled next to him and saw him bring a hand to his eyes and you saw him weeping. You took your arms around his neck and held him close. You knew what he was feeling, everything that had happened and the stress of it all had hit him. You gently spoke his name and as you rubbed small circles on his back. After a few moments, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as you saw him slowly compose himself. You stood back from him and offered a hand. 

“I’m here with you...” He looked at your hand and took it to as you helped him stand. You smiled as you held his hand  a bit tighter as you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek causing him to look down at you. He was given no time to process what had just happened before you walked off to help the others. All he could do was smile at the realization that he had a chance to be with you.

#Elendil #LOTR #Rings of Power #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral fanfic #fanfiction #new #character x reader #slight cannon #hope you enjoy

[martyrbat]

when i briefly mention cults i want to make it absolutely clear i mean literal cults. like not just extremist churches that are harmful and manipulative in their own way (although got that experience too) but like.

(general cult talk under cut)

going on ‘retreats’ since youre a child where members of your church would plan with your parents on a time to ‘abduct from your house because youre never prepared to be a testimony for god. literally being driven for hours until lost in a bus where they had the windows darkened in the back so it made it difficult to see especially with the rural surrounding. no phone service if you had a phone. where they would wake you up every half hour for a week or two (or a month if it was a summer) and had no clocks. being led to hike miles in the dark and mud as its 30 degrees and then shoving you in a rope maze in the middle of the woods for you to try and get through until sunrise and how it was a message about needing the light (god) or else you'll be trapped in darkness and that'll take you to hell. they emotionally berate you to give confessions and you had to list your sins outloud repeatedly over and over and then stand there as people tell you how youre a failure and disgrace. but no worries! jesus will fix that as long as you devote your life and happiness to him because your time on the earth has to be miserable to prove your dedication to the heavens and to get your crown of jewels.

i was “homeschooled” to be isolated further and because we couldn't afford the one public school, the people in the cult(s) were the only people i knew and got to see and several of them killed themselves and then the cult would spend a hour praying God has mercy but knowing prayers are not gods will and that our pleads for mercy are meaningless because they're in hell. my priest gave me modern study bibles with underlines on homosexuality said its disgusting and a sin and that suicidal people are weak and god is disappointed and how selfish it is because you're questioning gods judgement in creating you since the moment youre created, you are covered in the blood of sin and your life is a debt you will never pay off.

they would teach things that werent in the bible and if you said that's not true/the verses dont say that then you got belittled for being stupid and not understanding and gaslit to believe you cant trust your own judgement or thoughts because theyre always wrong or misguided. youre told you're empty and hollow without god and to purge yourself from your “sin” so that you can be a vessel for him while sobbing at the thought of what happens if god purges him from you because what will remain? youre empty without holiness but youre repeatedly taught you arent capable of being holy—what will fill the hole that is your self without this god and religion??

and again, i live in a VERY isolated area where we don't have buses or stores or anything. outside of this cult and self hatred and this god that needs you to be hollow for it to deem you worthy—there literally is nothing else. its isolating, its encouraging self hatred and misery to deem your worth, its dangerous as a disabled queer. I have never had a physical in person friendship but ive had more than 5 adults tell me how they would kill me in detail. i dont have family i can talk to. i dont have friends around me. i convinced my mother for me to stop going to the church in about 2019 or so because for a long time i would attend despite not believing in that shit purely because it was the only way i could get out of my extremely abusive household until it became too dangerous there too where i thought it would be SAFER to be in a house where a gun is pointed to my head every few months.

like i make jokes because lolz religious trauma ammirite! and its not a big sensitive topic despite... trauma. but like... when i say i was raised in cults i literally mean fucking cults LMAO

#this isnt a truama dump in the sense of im sad because im literally chilling here but like #i dont think i ever gave context for any cult mention which?? i dont have to because who do i have anything to prove something to. #but like. mutual slumber party where i just said something lowkey concerning while talking about the horse fucking book #like i didnt even share the fucked up details this is just a general ‘when i say cult i PROMISE im not throwing that word around’ #anyways im just like bruce wayne fr fr (was in a cult and no sense of self worth unless serving a devotion of your own choosing since #without that obsession i feel empty and have felt guilty about being alive since i was a kid 👍)

[badluckinawasteland]

peace never gave us a chance.

red, white and blue turns black and grey on this road. i worry a hole into my blue jeans, through acid wash and blood stain, mud and miller lite. i hang yr dirt crusted dog tags on your lamp, feel the matted carpet under my feet, watch you cut snow through the oak mirror when you think i'm not looking. when you leave at night i try to make you promise no cruising. you come back bruising and pick fights. and i wont lay down, forfeit ground, forgive and forget. the rough rider cuts us open, and i pray to the madonna in another locked motel bathroom. while you pray to jack on the other side. i wake up in bathtubs and hold your hand on the sticky carpet, singing lullabies like theyre the blues. realize my blood looks better than addict in 745 when its smudged over yr lips. and yr eyes look better with the black eyes i give you. and you cry about what we do, how bad we are. but the sun still rises brand new. know you're the only one i want. trust me. and i need you. trust me. and you need me. i trust you.

every day feels like forever and every night feels even longer and it repeats. and repeats. cant you hear me calling for you? take me to where the stars meet the shore. how do you live when you dont want to?

[abimee]

been trying to write about this but i dont think its coming out very good but speaking of chgefant and ruyan theres a small thing i think about that i guess im a bit shy to write about because i have in fact sort of combed through the chefant/wol tag and havent noticed much in the Gender Variation besides a few fics with sweet little trans wols. but i get worried going into the complexities of ruyan because i dont want her to get mocked or have people assume things about him. but during ruyans little romp as a warrior of light he dresses in what i can only say is ''bad'' like this

the checkered pants.... white sneakers... THREE layered shirts and a big duffel jacket. its utility. if he goes somewhere cold he just puts his jacket on tighter if it gets hot he takes it and some shirts off. easy. its stuff he sort of just threw on because he hasnt experienced eorzean clothing before and doesnt have an eorzean concept of ''fashion'' and moreso dresses for comfort in a ''its easy, its textured nicely, i can take it off easily, etc'' and so the last thing she thinks about is how the clothes look.

but its also sort of obcious that this isnt the kind of clothes she wants to wear but has to wear because shes an axe swinging warrior of light and needs to consider utility and stuff over style out in the field, but as she lives longer in eorzea and takes in the fashions and trends and engages with larger communities of people not bound by one singular communal or cultural concept she forms a longing for certain forms of dress she feels ''unable'' to wear as the warrior of light. and i think this especially developes around heav ens ward when shes practically surrounded by other women of high nobility who wear dresses and heels and slippers and get to do nice things to their hair, but ruyan never gets to try that out because shes just going to get thrown into morbol mucus and fall down a mountain and batter all her clothes, and stuff like slippers and skirts arent helpful or kind to you in the field

but it also starts to eat at that developing part of her brain that recognizes that she can be seen as interesting to others where she worries what she wears is making her come off as ''unsightly'' or ''weird'' to others, especially with the inconsistent patterns and colors how scuffed her shoes are. and she worries shes painting a picture of herself thats ''gross'' or that people will treat her a certain way because shes coming into rooms as a woman with pants soaked with mud up to the knees and hair that looks like it hasnt be washed in forever because she fell in dragons blood an hour earlier

but anyway i think ruyan does start to show interest in trying to vary her clothes a bit with even something as simple as a pair of leggings and skirt outfit she sees is popular with a subsection of fashionable m'iqote but he worries that hes not really... fit for clothes like that? if that makes sense. cannot elaborate or were going to spend 50 years talking about body image and self hatred via lack of support with how you look from a young age by those around you (not just in a trans way but in many ways) anyway i think chefant notices this and how often ruyan oggles little things like a nicely made spring dress or a woolen pair of leggings but never buys, alongside how he talks about how he dresses for ease and not anything ''flattering'', but i dont think chefant tries to push anything on ruyan like suprising him with the dresses or makeup she was looking at because thats not the way to help at all, but i do think being with chefant does help ruyan recognize that like, she doesnt have to be scared of her reflection and that he isnt something ''scary'' or ''ugly'' to look at in the mirror, he doesnt have to be scared about wearing something that shows off his legs because he doesnt look like an alien creature in it. shes allowed to curl her hair and she wont look like a grandmother like that.

she doesnt have to worry about clothes and makeup like itll accentuate the ''bad'' parts of her because there is no ''bad'' part of her, theres nothing ''wrong'' with her combination of features and wearing slip on shoes or the color orange isnt going to suddenly reveal to everyone that hes the ugliest person on earth. and its not through any direct way like chefant going out of his way to sing a thousand praises to every inch of ruyan but moreso just the fact that someone seems willing to touch and look at ruyan in ways that she was scared would reveal how ugly she is, like when shes sleeping on her side or in tight pants. she dressed and held herself in a way that appeased people because she thought he was fooling the world into pretending hes ''not ugly'', like a sort of obsession with the mirror where youre not allowed to hunch over or sleep with your mouth open. ruyan was able to defeat this idea that she cant have chefant see her when shes not ''performing'' (a fake idea anyway but you know), but with how kind he is about how she looks and dresses and spends time with her and exists near her without grimacing or prodding at his looks. chefant never says anything about his ugly pants or only come off as desiring ruyan sexually, but willingly touches her face when shes sweating or kisses her in the morning when she first wakes up. like its just the fact that someone is willing to get close to hr and her body for no favors but simply because theyre interested in being near her to LOOK at him without recieving any sort of gratuity from it, slips off that decades long terror ruyan has that everything she does is gross. because shes simply never been told shes ever looked pretty so it takes a really long while for her to take a compliment but i think chefant would know how to help her get there without just showering her in them and forcing her to ''accept them''. i think in return ruyan finally starts wearing little patterned woolen leggings with a knee length skirt every once and a while and it makes chefant fall head over heels again because her legs look really nice in them

#welcome to me saying a bunch of stuff but it meaning nothing. i just think chefant really likes ruyan is that SO BAD

[lu-twilights-pup]

It has been brought to my attention that you do yandere too?? In that case, may I dare ask for the, imo, dangerous combination of feral AND yandere Twilight? 👀 👀

*screams* i struggled not to get carried away with this one

DISCLAIMERS:

yandere, obsessive themes, unhealthy behaviors, unhealthy mind set, slight blood mention, slight violence

this is not in any way condoning this type of behavior!

Feral! Yandere! Twilight:

He knew he had to have you the moment you met

And he will do whatever he has to to have you, but hes smart

he will take his time, gain your trust, your love, youre sweet affections

He can be scary sometimes when he’s mad, but a harsh smile kind of scary

He would never yell at you, no no, he will only talk sweetly to you

He needs you to understand how much he loves you

Will be as gentle with you as he would be a glass figurine

to him you are a little glass lamb

Isnt violent towards you but is rather cruel to others

Will scare people off because you only need him

He can give you everything you need and want

He will make you believe that they arent worthy of you, that they dont need/want you

You have him, and he will adore you for the rest of forever

You will never ever leave him, he will make sure of it

If you try, you will have to worry about the blue eyes beasts that lurk in the night

The ones that wish to devour you, chasing you throughout the forest as you trip into mud and rocks

But he will stand with open arms for when you come running back

He will wipe your tears, hold you close and rock you once he wipes the dirt from his boots

Now now he will always protect you, honey

After all you are his little mouse, and god help anyone who disrespects you

Some of your friends may go missing, then turn back up in pieces

Attacked by wolves that grown closer to town

Thats why you should always stay by him

He wont ever let you ot of his sights its much to dangerous, sugar

You will always bee safe with him

You want friends? Youre lonely, you shouldnt be but ok, how about a dog?

Wolfie will be there whenever and wherever you need him

and look isnt he cute, and he will keep you happy and safe

He will watch guard you when you sleep, and stalk accompany you when you travel

You will never have to be alone!

Even if you think you are alone, wandering the woods/hyrule

He will always be lurking in the shadows, protecting you from afar

Its not creepy, its a good thing, after all youve never see any of the monsters that people talk about wondering the woods and harassing travelers

Which is good, your beauty shouldnt be tainted by such sights

As much as he wished to show you the blood of his hands that had defended you so rightfully

to be praised for such heinous deeds done out of such sadistic obsession adoration

He knew better and made sure you never caught glimpse of such carnage

You were horrified when you saw wolfie covered in blood not his own

Never again would you be so worried

But the wolf in him wanted to lock you in the house forever, just for him and him alone

What reason did you need the outside world for when he provided any and everything for you?

You could play with him and wolfie, thats always fun!

Oh did wolfie nip you a bit too hard, sorry sorry sorry he will say

But oh how beautiful the mark looks on your arm/neck/leg

The mark that says mine

After all that's what you are little mouse, no?

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu #twilight linked universe #yandere twilight #tw yandere #yandere #wolfie linked universe

[bloodycassian]

FIRE AND ICE PART TWO - GRIEF

His lack of faith in you seemed to grow with each passing day that you ignored him. He tried bringing you food, tried making jokes. You had a sneaking suspicion he tried to send Mor in to try to talk to you too. But she just read beside you in bed, munching on the plate of cookies he had ordered to your room. 

"I'm not going to say dont be mad it him, but maybe just... hear him out." Mor said, shutting her book. You glared at her. "I know, I know.... but just maybe-"

"He hasn't bothered to apologize. Why would I hear him out when he doesn't even try to hear me out!?" You let her hear the kindling fire that had been building over the last few days. The words came out with precision and cut even her deep. 

"Cassian can be stupid-" 

"He's an idiot." You spat. 

She sighed, and sat up from the pillow stack that you shared. She could see the predator waiting to be released under your skin. And she didn’t want to be the one to let it free. So she went the gentle route. The one she knew would knock you free of the anger. "He wanted to keep you safe." the words hit your weak spot for the male. 

You shoved it away, disregarding the vulnerability. "By shaming me?" She was surprised. Cassian hadn't shown any sign of falseness when she had spoken to him. He had just seemed concerned. You laughed bitterly. "He forgot to mention the part where he guilted me into leaving. He thinks I'm a doll he needs to protect." You cringed away from the words that you knew he saw as being true. The shame filled you further. Like a sinking ship, it only brought you lower and lower. 

She stared at you, those piercing eyes so different from Rhys' bored into you. Her next words were carefully chosen. "Give him.. time." She concluded. You stared after her as she made her way to the door. 

Two days later you had cooled off after a sparring with Feyre and Rhys. As if he had been told of your more pleasant mood, Cassian appeared on your balcony with a bundle of wildflowers and a basket of bath supplies. Your favorites, of course. You didn't hesitate to take them. You gave him a once over - that stupid apologetic half smile he wore dug into your heart. You rolled your eyes at him and turned, heading for the bathroom. 

+

He made love to you that night. Long and slow. apologetic in every way. Sensual, caring and so good. When you woke the next morning, he was gone. Just a note left on your bedside table. 

"Back before lunch" it promised. You sighed and threw it on the floor. The same frustration as before returning to you. The unsatisfied feeling of needing to fight - to get the rage out. To have him just yell at you already. To let the words you knew he wanted to say finally come out. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

The nightmare of those words lingered throughout your slow morning. By lunch there was still no sign of Cassian.

So much for round two.

+

You picked at your dinner impatiently. The various fruits and meats on the table didn't appeal. Especially for such an early dinner. You were hoping to train but Rhys and Azriel weren’t back from their meeting yet, so you decided on a much too early feast for yourself. You couldnt bring yourself to have a bite though. You watched the snowdrifts billow outside the house of wind instead. They flurried down the mountains, shimmering like diamonds in the afternoon light. You could imagine how it sounded rushing down the steep peaks of the mountain. The soft tinkling sound they made when hitting your hair. Your wings flexed involuntarily. 

Mor strode in with a small box in her hands. "Good morning." She chittered, placing the box on the table in front of you. "Whats this?" You asked, skimming a finger over the lid. "A gift." She began walking away without a look back. 

"From?" the box seemed to hum with anticipation. 

"Open it and find out." She called from the doorway. Your stomach suddenly spiked with nerves. 

"For the one you lost. -Cas" 

The one you lost?! The ignorant note made your blood boil. He was the one that had caused you to lose it. You didnt even want the damned gift if he was going to be such an asshole about it. But you couldn't ignore the beauty of the blade that lay before you. Among dark satin lining lay a gorgeous handmade dagger. Black stained metal with a simple leather hilt. Curved at the tip with deadly sharpness. You picked an apple from the table, and tested the knife. 

It sliced through like butter, leaving no jagged edges over the skin of the fruit. You inspected the mark, noting the spot of red on the inside of the apple. Your heart dropped. "Shit." 

You hadn't even felt the cut, the blade was so sharp. You wrapped your loose shirt around the wound on your finger and set the knife back in the box. The blood dripped on the dark lining. Staining the perfection of it. 

+

You sparred with Azriel that evening, working off your frustration with Cassian. He went easy on you, noting the wrapping on your fingers. He didnt ask about it though. The session was more quiet than usual, even for Az. He stopped abruptly mid swing, letting you catch his torso with the training sword. Cassian landed behind you. He had his hands up in defense before you could even open your mouth.  

"You smell like blood." You accused. "And mud." 

"So do you." He gave Azriel a nod, and the shadowsinger excused himself. suspicion grated at your nerves. You set your jaw and put your sword away, ignoring the new blood spots blooming on the bandage. He squinted at it, you cut him off before he could say anything.

"Cassian..." You leveled a look at him. 

He kept his composure, ripping those hazel eyes from your injury. "Dont worry about it. I got it handled."

"You’re half a day late and - wait….Got what handled?!" You squeaked. You disregarded his tardiness all together. The sheepish look on his face said all you needed to know.

You wanted to hear him admit it. That he went and finished the job without you. You needed to hear him admit it. You realised you were tense, waiting to fight. Your wings were tucked in protectively behind you, and your fists clenched at your sides ached.

"Dont-"

"If you say dont worry about it again I am going to throw you off this house." You ground out through your teeth.

He did not laugh, like you would have expected. He just looked away. On the back of his neck you noticed the thin scratches and the dirt that marred his tunic. Your eyes stung with tears. The betrayal hitting you like a ton of bricks. "I did, alright?" He said, voice low. "I took care of it."

"What the fuck, Cassian?!" You exploded, "The bath, the flowers what - so I would be less suspicious?" You recalled the night before, the slow tenderness of him. The 

"What? No - I got that because I love-"

"Dont say its because you love me. You could have been killed. You lied to me." You could feel the blood pounding in your temples, fueling the rage that lashed out. Tears threatened to spill over. 

"I didnt lie!" His voice echoed against the far wall of the training ring. "And you were almost killed too. I couldn't risk that again."

"It wasn't even close to that bad!" You shouted back, not caring how the birds quieted. Your rage matched his, possibly exceeded it at times. You knew that on previous experiences. You'd done a lot more than make nature quiver at the tones you brought. 

"It was bad enough." He said with finality, his tone somber. He leaned against the weapons rack and tapped his toe against it anxiously. You stared him down, daring him to say more. Waiting to strike out against the next words you knew he wanted to say. What you knew he was thinking.

"You're not strong enough on your own."

You didn't need any more of his excuses. You didnt need to hear the words to know that he wanted to say them. You scoffed. It caught his attention. 

"Where are you going?" He asked. A request, not a demand. You didn't oblige him. You just leapt off the side of the the wide cliffside and let your wings pull you up, high into the air. You kept soaring, pushing and pushing until your lungs hurt with the stinging of the air. 

+

Az's cool shadows did not touch you when he landed. The rustling of the long grass around his pants was little more than a whisper. 

"He sent you didnt he?" You wiped your cold nose on your sleeve and attempted to piece yourself together. Things with Cas had gotten just so difficult lately. You didnt know why. He was constantly just... hovering. It made you claustrophobic. You hadn't been forgiving about it either. He wasn't the only one to blame. 

"He didn't..." Azriel stood beside you. You didnt feel his cold eyes that always seemed to pierce into you. You looked up at him to confirm your thoughts, and he was indeed looking over the grand lake you had parked yourself at. Among a valley of trees and violet flowers, the polished surface of the water seemed like a mirror. 

"Then why are you here?" Your words were laced with the venom Cas had left you with.

He was quiet for only a moment, before calmly speaking again. "To make sure you're alright."

"I dont need anyone looking after me. I'm not a child." You spat bitterly. The sunset overhead darkened, slowly making its way down behind the mountains. 

"I know. I came here for myself." His words held no double meaning. No doubt ringing through them. "I wanted to see you." He said simply. He didnt have the arrogant air of someone coming to the rescue. You appreciated that. It took a weight of your chest.

"Why?" You demanded more than asked. You really didnt care what your tone was like. He was the one offering to stay beside you.

He shrugged, and gestured to the large boulder you leaned against. "May I?" He asked. You shrugged back - weakly -, and he sat. You watched the sun disappear completely together. You through clouded, swollen eyes. 

He said nothing, didn't even look at you besides when you choked out a sob. Then his leg was there, subtle and warm. You didn't feel a sting of pride when you leaned against the welcome comfort. He didn't complain when your tears soaked through his pants, or when your cried rocked his body as well. 

#READER X CASSIAN #CASSIAN X READER #ACOTAR FIC #AZRIEL X READER #FIRE AND ICE #FIRE AND ICE FIC

[peterrparrkerr]

Pornstar au - read on ao3

*-*

Peter's nervously fiddling with his fingers as he walks onto set. Camera-men and directors and other crew members are hustling around, making last minute changes and adding to the low murmur of conversation.

His feet feel glued to the floor, the sudden raise in his blood pressure making his hands sweating.

"You Peter Parker?" A woman demands, standing in front of Peter and making him jump.

He looks up and gives a small nod, mouth dry and tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Get in the dressing room, you've got 15 minutes."

And then she was gone. Peter stares after her with wide eyes. He looks around, trying to find a dressing room.

This was a bad idea, this was such a bad idea. Peter should've just stuck to amature porn shot on his phone.

He's about to ask someone for directions when someone sets a hand on either of his shoulders and starts rushing him. Peter tries hard not to stumble, and he's nearly running ahead of the person.

"Fifteen minutes, be ready when there's a knock on the door."

Peter's thrown into a room. Hd straightens himself, and before he can even look around there are people rushing him to a seat.

Questions and comments are flying around him, and Peter can't focus. Someone is dabbing on concealer and someone else is demanding Peter change.

After a whirlwind of fifteen minutes, Peter's rushed back to the set. There seems to be even more people around.

Peter takes a small step back, ready to dip and just run out, but someone shouts, and someone's taking Peter's robe -leaving him in yellow swim trunks- and shoving him forward.

Peter's bare feet pad against the linoleum floor, and its like he's been shoved onto a stage fully naked in front of his high school.

"Two minutes!"

Peter is about to yell wait, when -oh, fuck, its Tony Stark. He's walking over, and he's looking at Peter.

"You look nervous," Tony smirks, looking relaxed in a pair of dark swim trunks and an open Hawaiian patterned shirt.

"Uh," Peter says dumbly. He glances around at the people in the room, then at the set they're in.

"It can be overwhelming," Tony said, all confident yet lax posturing as he stands in front of Peter, intimately close. "This is your first time filming?"

Peter swallows thickly, unsticking his tongue from his teeth.

"Ye-yeah, I mostly just, uh, usually there's not a film crew," he stammered.

Tony smirked, glancing over at the crowd, then steps a little closer. "Just pretend they're not there."

"Uh, that's gonna be hard," Peter confessed, wringing his fingers.

"Thirty seconds!"

Peter feels his heart rate spike. His eyes widen a little.

"Hey," Tony hums, smirk falling away. He grips Peter by the chin and tilts his head so Peter has nowhere to look but him. He swallows thickly, staring into Tony's dark eyes.

"Its just us, okay?" Tony said, their noses almost touching. "Its just like any other time you've filmed. Just you and your partner, right?"

"Ye-yeah," Peter nods, chin still held in Tony's grip. the older man smiles and squeezes.

"I've seen your work, Pete," he says, and Peter's eyes widen. Tony Stark -the Tony Stark- saw Peter's amature porn? What-

"You've got a lot of potential. Don't let your nerves get the best of you."

And with that, Peter's left alone at the end of the set while Tony walks to the door he's supposed to walk through at the beginning of the scene.

There's a countdown, and someone rushes over and sprays water over Peter's chest and hair, getting his curls damp and then shoving him into the middle of the set.

Peter doesn't stumble -thankfully. The countdown ends and the cameras -yeah, there's three- start rolling.

Peter picks up the towel on the wood chair in what was set up to be a mud room. He brings it to his chest and wipes himself dry.

The door opens, and Peter doesn't look up. He's read the script, he knows what happens.

Thankfully, this isn't a speaking porno. Theres no dialogue Peter needs to memorize -he doesn't think he'd be able to speak anyway without stuttering.

He feels a hand on his side and jolts -its not an act either. The hand snakes around to Peter's stomach and pulls him back.

Peter lets the towel fall to his bare feet. He can see the camera in front of him, just out of the corner of his eye.

He doesn't know where every camera is, so he tries to keep his eyes on things around the set, or closed.

Tony hums lowly against Peter's ear, mouthing at his jaw as his hand slides down, fingertips dipping below Peter's trunks.

Peter lets his head fall back a little, feeling himself growing hard. Its quiet except for Peter's slightly heavy breath, and Tony's gentle cooing.

Tony's other hand reaches over and turns Peter's head, forcing Peter to turn at his hips in order for the older man to kiss him.

Peter's seen Tony Stark's porn. Hes seen the way Tony kisses, but seeing it and actually kissing him, are completely different.

Tony's lips are pillow soft, surprisingly plump. Even with his goatee, he's soft. Peter can't help the small whimper that falls from his mouth, and Tony eats it right up, licking into his mouth.

Peter's breath hitches when Tony's hand finally brushes against his cock, tenting the yellow trunks.

"Hmm," Tony groaned, wrapping his fingers around Peter and squeezing. Peter can't help but raise onto his toes, hands grabbing onto Tony as the man sucks the breath from his mouth.

And then Peter is being pressed into the set wall, back to the cheap wood, and Tony's hand is stroking Peter under the trunks.

"O-oh," Peter gasps, head thunking against the wall. Tony ducks down, mouth latching onto Peter's throat as he continues stroking him.

"So responsive," Tony hummed against Peter's skin. He can feel the older smirking as he nips at Peter's collarbone.

"You're gonna be so fun to play with."

Peter moans up at the ceiling, rocking his hips up into Tony's grasp. He doesn't know what he's doing, but Peter's never felt a handjob quite like this one.

Tony's flicking his wrist at the top, brushing against his tip, squeezing -its incredible, and Peter is close to bursting.

"Cut!"

Peter's quickly brought back to the set and he blinks his eyes in surprise.

Tony pulls his head back and smirks down at Peter, pulling his hand back. Peter can't help but frowning a bit.

"Lets set up the next scene," the director calls.

"Dont worry, you get used to it," Tony smirks at Peter's frown. It makes his frown deepen.

Tony nods for Peter to follow him, and Peter's quick to fall into step with him.

Peter's usually not this quiet, but he doesn't know what to say. He feels like a newbie -which, technically, he is, to the professional side of porn.

"You've watched my videos?" Peter finds himself asking, and nearly slaps himself. Way to go, Parker.

Tony glances down at Peter and smiles, the two heading across the open warehouse to a bedroom set.

"Of course," he said. "Who do you think got you an interview?"

Peter's steps falter in shock. Tony's hand on his lower back, urging him forward.

"I had to see for myself just how cute you were in bed," Tony murmured against Peter's ear. All Peter could do was gape at him.

"You- I."

"Dont strain yourself, kid, we haven't even gotten to the good stuff," Tony grinned.

Peter doesn't really follow what happens next. He's still freaking out that Tony Stark had requested to work with him. That Tony Stark had seen Peter's amature porn filmed on his smart phone and wanted to meet him and work with him.

And its Peter's wet dream to work with Tony. And here he is, naked and rutting up against Tony's bare cock on the bed, whimpering and moaning.

He already prepped himself before he drove to the set, but Tony still works a couple fingers inside him -for the sake of the cameras.

Peter moans, rolling his hips, silently urging Tony to go deeper. The man obliges, sucking bruises into Peter's throat as he presses brutally into Peter's prostate.

The noises that fall from Peter's mouth are authentic. Theres no faking how good Tony makes him feel, stimulating him everywhere with experienced touches.

"You ready, kid?" Tony murmurs, so low in Peter's ears he knows the cameras and mics won't pick it up.

Peter answers by lifting his legs, hooking his ankles around Tony's back and urging him close.

Tony hums and pulls his fingers free, moving closer and lowering himself. Peter nods, hand moving down to grab at Tony's cock. He wants it in now.

He helps to guide Tony to where Peter wants him most, and groans long and loud as Tony slides in.

"Oh, God, you feel so good," Peter moans. "Please, fuck me."

Tony smirks above him and snaps his head forward. Peter gasps, lifting his legs higher, allowing Tony to drive in deeper.

It feels amazing. Peter's completely forgotten about the camera crew. He's lost in Tony and the roll of his hips that have Peter's toes curling and his back arching.

"Harder, please, harder," Peter begs, feeling the low building pleasure in his gut.

Tony's hips snap forward, pace quickening as the man holds himself over Peter.

It feels so good. Peter groans, letting out little punched-out sounds with every thrust forward.

"You like that?" Tony asked, grinding his hips down. "You like it rough?"

"Yes," Peter gasped, hands running over Tony's chest, gripping at his shoulders.

"Change positions," someone says lowly. Peter blinks, about to turn to see who, when Tony dives down and kisses him.

Peter kisses him back, and then the older is pulling out and lifting Peter into a sitting position by the back of his neck.

He allows Tony to move him hoe he sees fit, and whimpers when the man sinks back into him.

Peter's on his knees, back to Tony's chest. The older man has both arms around Peter, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up into him. 

"Oh, fuck -ah!‐ just like that," he groans, head dropping back onto Tony's shoulder, one arm reaching back to grip at the hairs at the back of Tony's head.

He presses back into the older, turning his head into Tony's. Tony easily connects their lips, bruising teeth and sloppy tongues.

Peter's eyebrows screw up, his breath hitching, and he pulls away from Tony. "Wait-"

But its too late. Peter's orgasm hits him hard, surprising him. Tony stills deep inside of him, holding Peter in place as he cums against the white sheets, grip on Tony tight.

"Hmm," Tony hums once Peter's finished, holding him up, still buried inside. "That was gorgeous, kid."

Peter blushes, taking a deep breath.

"Alright, clean up, we've got the rest of the shot," the director calls. Peter frowned.

"Huh?"

Behind him, Tony chuckles, kissing at Peter's tender neck.

"You gotta try and hold off for as long as you can," he said as a few crew members add another white sheet in front of them, covering the spot of cum. "Give them enough footage to edit through."

"Oh, uh, sorry," Peter blushed.

"Dont be sorry, it was hot as fuck," Tony chuckled, still holding Peter to him.

"Someone get a fluffer in here," the director calls. Peter's blush deepens.

"Thats not needed," Tony calls, lifting his head from Peter's shoulder. "I've got it under control."

"What?" Peter glances over at the crew -which is terrifying. They're all looking at him.

Feeling slightly mortified, Peter turns his head forward, so he's got part of the set wall to stare at.

"Oh my God."

"Shh, kid, just relax. You're doing great," Tony said, moving one of his hands down to tickle at Peter's pubic hair.

"I don't know if I can get it up with everyone watching," Peter whispered, his hand still holding the back of Tony's head -almost like a lifeline.

"You did it before," Tony pointed out, wrapping slender fingers around Peter and beginning to tug on him gently.

"I-I was distracted before," Peter confessed. Tony gently rolls his hips forward, pressing into Peter before pulling out and repeating.

"Its just us," Tony reminded. "No one else." Peter feels himself getting hard again at Tony's words and his actions. He lets out a breath.

"There, you're doing great," Tony praised. "Just relax, let me take care of you."

Peter nods, dropping his head down on Tony's shoulder.

"I'm gonna give you a signal, when its time to cum," Tony continues, stroking Peter back to full hardness. "Dont cum until then, alright?"

"Okay," Peter nods. Tony kisses his shoulder and wraps his arm back around Peter's middle. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in.

Peter keens, body overstimulizated. And thats it, they're off again, and Peter's struggling to keep his noises to a minimum.

He doesn't want to be too loud and ruin the shots, but damn does Tony know what he's doing.

"Tony-" Peter gasped, cutting himself off a little too late. Could they use their names? "Oh- Oh! Ri-right there!"

Tony pulls back and slams into the same spot, making Peter wail. His grip on Tony tightens.

"On your elbows for me," Tony whispered, mouthing at the shell of Peter's ear. Peter barely hears him over his own panting, but the moment Tony's arms unwind from him, Peter leans forward, dropping to his hands, and then his elbows.

The new position has Tony railing right into his prostate. He grips the sheets in his hands and drops even further into the mattress, pushing his ass out further and allowing Tony to go even deeper.

What Peter doesn't expect is for Tony to slap him. He rocks forward at the sting in his left cheek and mewls, burying his face in the bedding.

He's been hit before during sex, but usually its bruising slaps -ones meant to paint Peter's skin a dark red.

This, this is different. It stings, but not in a painful way. It amplifies the already there pleasure in a way that has Peter begging him for more.

And Tony gives it to him. Its not a brutal pace, and he doesn't do it often, but every few thrusts, his hand swats down on Peter's ass. It feels good, so, so good.

Peter feels himself getting close to cumming, and he reaches a hand down, squeezing himself just under the mushroom head to stave it off.

Tony's thrusts get a little sharper, and he leans over Peter, kissing at Peter's shoulder blade, hands on either side of him.

"You wanna cum for me?" Tony asked lowly, thrusting unforgivingly. All Peter can do is nod and whimper.

He begins stroking himself in time with Tony's thrusts  until he's cumming with a shout, body trembling.

Tony has to wrap an arm around Peter to keep him from collapsing on the bed as he climaxes.

Tony groaned low, allowing Peter back down onto the bed once he's emptied himself.

Peter keeps his ass somewhat elevated as Tony thrusts into him, balls slapping against Peter's perineum.

Peter moans at how sensitive he becomes, but he stays somewhat still so Tony can finish.

He does seconds later, burying himself deep inside and painting Peter's inner walls with cum. Peter mewls at the feeling.

He thrusts a few more times, rough and biting before his grip on Peter's hips ease up, and he takes a breath.

Then he pulls out and Peter drops into the puddle of cum on the sheets. Tony follows soon after, dropping to the bed beside him and glancing over.

Peter can't help but smile, his mout hidden behind his arm. Tony grins.

"Damn, kid, you're so much better in person," he sighs. Peter blushes and hides a little more of his face in his arm.

"You are too," Peter managed. Tony's grin widens.

Around them, crew members are taking down the sets, messing with their tech and talking with the director about the final cuts.

Peter doesn't pay them any attention. At least not yet. He can't believe he's just filmed a porno with Tony Stark.

"Before you leave, I want your number," Tony then says, climbing out of the bed.

It takes Peter a second for his brain to process that, and then he's scrambling off after him, snatching the robe held out for him and quickly wrapping it around himself.

Tony's already walking towards the dressing rooms, pace casual as he ties the robe shut in front of him.

"Wait, you want my number?" Peter asked, finally catching up with him. Tony smirks down at him. 

"Definitely," he says. "You're way too good to work with just once."

Peter blushes at that, then gives a small nod. "I, I just have to shower."

Tony's eyes lower, a knowing look settling in his features before he nods. "I'll be waiting."

Peter's got cum drooling down the inside of his thigh as he rushes into the dressing room.

This could be a thing. Peter could do this. Make professional porn. Especially if his partners were anything like Tony Stark.

#marvel #peter parker #tony stark #starker #my writing #ao3 #nff #sfsummerbingo21

[normal-horoscopes]

Normal Horoscope:

Aries: You decide when it is dancing time. You are like Mama Mia 2: Here We Go Again, but with the 1518 dancing plague.

Taurus: The problem with having no plan is that you never know when you’re done. Now theres blood everywhere and thats just another problem you have to deal with.

Gemini: Your bees are sub-optimal. The stars implore you to optimize your bees.

Cancer: Today a stuffed lion made of felt will deliver you a telegram telling you exactly how you are going to die. 

Leo: Remove toxic people from your life by punting them into the damn sun. Start doing squats to improve kick strength.

Virgo: Take a vacation from your worries by getting lost on your poorly funded expedition to the north pole.

Libra: Try to be genial when only after describing it as “flavorful with a full body” does your friend realize they’ve been drinking straight mud.

Scorpio: If someone says its healthy, remember that people  used to say the same about snorting mummy dust. Take non-medical health advice with a mummy-free grain of salt. 

Ophiuchus: The situation warranted maybe either hooting or hollering, doing both was just sort of awkward.

Sagittarius: Time to take another trip to the cavernous subterranean supermarket that can only be accessed via dreams. No you dont have a choice.

Capricorn: Bean sprouts in your bones! There are wonderful little bean sprouts in your bones!

Aquarius: The stars say the windmill has found you again and it wants revenge. What you did to piss off a windmill, we do not know but consider us impressed.

Pisces: Gild your insides by eating foil until you die of aluminum poisoning to give the coroner a glittery surprise.

#aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #astrology #zodiac #horoscope #the signs #the signs as #normal horoscope

[marvel-m-lee]

Fire, Note books and a- kid? •Part 1 of M-Verse•

Warning! This series will include gruesome descriptions of blood, bodies etc. These may be rare but they will be graphic. (This one doesn't have much tickling but it has a⁸ little haha)

This Series is also a tickls series, so if you dont like it, sorry oof.

Fandom: Marvel

-

"CRAP" Sam yelled as he flew right under a collapsing tie beam. "Language!" The cap yelled through the intercom, they were on a mission. There had been an explosion in an old warehouse building, no one knows how it happened but once they got there the place was covered with fire and dead bodies.

They were now in the building, fighting what they believed to be ex hydra workers that went into hiding for more experiments.

Cap fought from the ground whilst Sam was trying to get some shots from above while reading looked for any potential prisoners.

"Ain't seeing nothing from RedWibg Cap, the place is about to blow, we've gotta get out" Steve had just taken out about 17- now 18 Hydra agents, throwing them in the burning flames or beating them in combat.

"Alright, have one more look around the perimeter. Nat get the Jet prepared for exit incase the place actually does blow" He yelled, fighting off the last two Hydra agents in his area, throwing one onto another knocking them into a large fire screaming.

"K, sam make sure there arent any survivors" Nat ran back to the jet and started it up, the lights turning on as it slowly began to hover over the ground.

"Will do Widow" Sam flew up above the collapsing building to get another view of the area.

"Black Widow or Natasha" A sassy voice explained down the intercom.

"Okay Spider Lady" A grunt was heard that made both Cap and Sam laugh. Sam was looking through Redwing and his own eyes and couldn't seem to spot anything. "It all seems clear" Just as he were about to fly back down though he noticed something.

A young girl, her hair stuck together with some blood, mixed with dirt and wood. Her skin covered with brown mud and small cuts, she wore a white ripped hospital gown, too no longer white- or had seemed to be in years?...

"Holy shit-"

"Language!"

"There's a kid- west bound, see if you can get her. Covered in dirt and seemingly blood, right near where the fire seemed to have started from the burnt wood scraps and dying fires around her"

"A kid? West bound? Nat how long we got left?" Steve asked, running through the flames, dodging their burns and running as fast as he could.

"Before the place explodes? From my view about 150 seconds, just over two minutes. But you're gonna need to be fast so we can all get out." Nat watched over the intercoms and the computers showing where Steve was.

"Take a left"

"What?"

"Take a left! I'm giving you the fastest route to the west bound. Keep running until you find large doors, go through them and the last one at the end should lead to the girl"

Steve stopped asking the questions and complied. It wasnt his first time saving a kid, but the closer he got, the more he saw about the place. Cages, torture chambers, training halls.

This place wasnt a good one, especially for a kid... He thought.

He found the large doors, chained shut. Before he reached them he threw his shield, breaking the locks almost instantly. He ran through, but stopped in his tracks. The room was full of blood, the sticky walls glossed over, there were bones, some shattered, some scattered. Not hundreds, probably enough for the bodies of a good couple of people though... it was gruesome. Some of the worst things he had seen in a while, probably since... well. The blip?..

How was a kid kept here? How did we not know sooner?...

The thoughts span round the super solider head, taking up more time than he would have cared for.

"Steve? What's happened why'd you stop? We've got a minute!" Nat asked, she was getting impatient, the adrenaline was rising and so were the flames, everyone felt on edge here, as soon as they stepped down something felt very wrong.

"Shit, yeah. Alright, I'm going!" Steve ran and soon found the young girl, she didn't seem too strictly harmed for being so close to the flames. And for surviving in this, this prison.

"Got her, how long have I got left?"

"45 seconds"

Steve now had the young girl over his shoulder, he was trying to run even faster than he had before. This place. Something else had been happening here.

As the 100 year old ran though, he seemed to notice the fire die down wherever he ran to, creating a simple path for him to run in. He spotted the jet, Sam was standing in the open doorway, waiting to see if cap would make it. Silently cheering him on.

"10 seconds Cap"

"Start taking off now, we'll make it."

"FUCK NO! HURRY UP MAN" Sam yelled, this time to Captain America ratger rgan through the intercoms.

Time felt like it was going in slow motion, Steve got close enough just to jump and as soon as he did the whole place behind blew up. It all went so quickly after that, Sam grabbed his hand, holding on with all his might as Steve held the young girl. Nat, quicker than ever, sped off into the sky, miles from the ground to make sure the explosion wouldn't hit them as harshly as it should have.

Steve lay on the floor, with the young girl cradled in his arms behind the shield so she wouldn't get burnt. He was staring at her, even though she was covered in- well not so flattering things, she was beautiful. Something within began stirring. Something warm, familiar...

"Holy shit my dude. We almost died!" Sam droned, going to sit down on the chairs they had.

"We usually almost die, its part of our job" Nat explained, walking in and rolling her eyes. "Nahhh, Nat even you know that place was off" Sam looked over to the spy who sighed and walked over to Steve to help him up.

"How's the kid?"

Steve stood up and pulled away the shield to show off a little girl with y/c/h hair, covered in mud and pieces of blood, tucked up into his chest, breathing gently. "Wow" Sam sighed from the back.

"She's not in as much bad of a state as I would have imagined?" Nat said, watching over the little girl. "She wasnt too close to the big fire, must have been thrown into the mud and spotty snow from the explosion." Sam suggested.

Steve just held onto the small angel in his arms. He felt as though it were only he and she in the world, that time was no longer relevant. He memorized every piece of her face, even the pieces with dirt, cuts and bruises.

Suddenly Nat snapped him out of it, "Alright, I'm going to go get Bruce over. See if she's alright. For now just but her on a bed." Steve nodded as the Spider left to go call Dr. Banner.

"We haven't got beds though?- oh fuck you man" Steve laughed at Sam, he had just pulled out a bed from the sides of the ship. "You didnt know?" He teased. He and Nat had let sam sleep on the chairs or ground for the past few years. It seemed to be a secret agreement not to tell him amongst the avengers.

"Nah man, that's cold" Steve placed the little girl down and pulled up the walls of the bed to make sure she wouldn't fall out. Watching her little breaths as Sam's words started to fade away.

"Oi you even listening to me?" Sam asked unamused sitting up and looking at the fallen solider. "She's gonna be alright Steve" Steve sighed, deep down he knew she'd be fine. But he felt something strange. Fear. Like he had just found an old journal or someone he hadn't seen for a very long time.

He sighed and stood up, walking over to the bird man who was now sitting up watching the soldiers actions. They both heard Natasha in the background talking with Bruce.

"She's gonna be alright Steve"

"I hope so..."

It was a while till they had all landed at the compound. Rogers and Wilson played some card games- dont question it, Roger's made Tony buy him loads for each mission. He enjoyed the games. He also won most of them.

Steve picked the young girl up and brought her to Bruce as the doors opened up, they lauded her down on a hospital bed and hurried off. Bruce stayed back checking in on everyone. "The mission?"

"A success as always"

Steve seemed quiet, Sam answering fir him rather than fir himself. He watched the girl be scurried along into the building.

"Did you clean all her wounds?"

"Mhm"

Steve looked down and nodded before they all began walking. He didnt mean to seem any less- well captain america-y, but he definitely had something on his mind. Bruce began to follow quickly to ask what's up.

"Hmm? Oh.. nothing. Just worried for the child" Steve tried to brush the feeling off but couldn't his gut had other plans. They wanted to see the girl, see if she was okay.

"She's gonna be alright, she only needs a few tests done- safe ones of course, blood pressure, cut cleansing etc" Bruce smiled at the much taller man. Oh god he was short. Steve smiled back to the Dr with 7 PHD's.

"Thanks Banner, I'm gonna go see Stark"

"Okay, stay safe, I'll tell you when she's improved"

Steve nodded and walked into the building, turning an opposite way to Banner and going to go see Stark. Steve was secretly very grateful Bruce would tell him about the child once she was improving. He felt a connection.

"Stark?" The 100 year old asked, knocking on the doors to the Lab.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, Open the Doors for Roger's Pleade and Thank you" The billionaire didnt move from his seat, he had been working on some new tech as usual.

"Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y" Steve walked in, still in his spandex from the mission covered in blood and dirt with little scuff marks all over from the fire flames.

"Its an 8 Code Pin Rogers"

"I know I know, I just can't seem to remember it"

Tony rolled his eyes and looked up leaning on his chair with one arm resting over the top.

"What's up?"

Steve furrowed his brows. "Hmm?"

"You, you seem... less Super, more Man"

Steve rolled his eyes, "I'm not Super Man Tony!" Tony just shrugged and chewed the side of his cheek.

"Dunno there Cap" The genius stood up and walked over to him, the man was much seemingly smaller without his heals on, just bare foot walking around. He got extremely close to the Cap and got on his tip toes leaning in. If he wanted he could have kissed the man he were so close, though they both knew it wouldn't happen, Tony just liked getting close to annoy people.

That's when the billionaire squealed and almost fell to the ground with a jump back, a light blush on his face. "Dick" Steve smirked at the man, he sure was one ticklish man, billionaire, genius who cares. He was still ticklish. Tony went to go sit back down.

"So what's up?" This time, happily keeping his distance.

"I saved a kid today"

Tony furrowed his brows and chuckled, slowly clapping his hands. "Well done soldier, you saved a kid"

"Tony im serious"

"Well I didn't really think you were lying-"

Steve stepped forward making the Billionaire loose his confidence. He never minded being tickled, but then again it didnt help his reputation being melted into a giggly mess. He was still really nervous. Steve smirked at the man but then continued.

"She was covered in dirt and bits of blood. But before I found her, I ran through a hall. It was Dark, but the raging fires lit it up. There were bones, scattered. Probably enough for a good few people, some big some small. And blood, all over the walls..."

Steve tensed up, remembering the place. "It reminded me of the war with Thanos."

Tony stayed quiet, no longer fearful of childish tickles. It seemed horrifying. Even for them. "Okay, send me the Locations, I'll get F.R.I.D.A.Y up and working on it alright?" Tony wasn't the best when it came to comforting, but he knew he could do something.

Steve looked up at him and smiled thankfully, but Tony coukd tell there was something else bothering. Yet he didn't want Steve to be too focused on it all.

"Hey, here" Tony grabbed something from within a draw, it had a captain America's shield on the front, he handed it to steve. Just a normal sketch book. And some pencils. "You're welcome to use these and sit down at the window or something while I work. Keep your mind off things.

"Thanks Tony" Steve smiled at the billionaire, he wasnt great at comforting, but he knew what Steve wanted. It was a strange friendship that's for sure.

"Look at the first page too! I did a little something" The billionaire smirked as Steve turned the book open, on the front was an IronMan helmet with a little speech bubble saying "I Am IronMan" and a little stick figure with a shield in a cage in the bottom corner saying "I stink!"

Tony burst out laughing at Steve's expression. Let's just say his laughing continued for longer than expected...

#steve rogers #y/n #tony stank #bruce banner #hulksmash #the avengers #endgame #tickling #tickle community #natasha romanov #sam wilson #gore tw #bucky barnes #steve x reader #tony x reader #dr banner #marvel mcu #marvel

[cajunquandary]

A Beacon to Beasts

A Beacon to Beasts

AO3 Link (in the works, check back later)

Summary: While Dean is in Purgatory, he comes across some interesting monsters who help him through.

Created for @spndarkbingo​

Square Filled: Fornication

Rating: R (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Benny

Warnings: Dark Fic. Canon level violence, SMUT (p in v, biting, anal, oral, dp, unprotected sex *dont be silly wrap the willy,* all the smut, also I might be developing a praise!kink here??), angst, traumatic memories. If you squint: suicide, Destiel, Denny

Word Count: 7600

A/N: Originally published in early 2017, this is a total rewrite with the tremendous help of @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ and @wonder-cole​. You talented bitches. I love you.

Lightning spider-webbed across the sky, for a brief moment illuminating every shadow across Purgatory. The forest practically hissed in the unwelcome brightness as the trees whispered amongst themselves. A crack of thunder caused a quake larger than you’d felt in the god forsaken land ever before. It cracked the sound barrier, bent the hellscape reality at all of its slithering edges, and sent a shockwave so powerful it nearly tore apart every cell in your body. With an eerie silence, darkness fell again, and as your eyes adjusted, you could see that the beast attacking you was fleeing the other direction from whence it’d come—no, not fleeing. It was chasing the impact. 

Something pulled in your chest like a red-hot meat hook, something that sent sparks of electricity straight into your brain and signaling an overwhelming raw need. You were familiar with such will-crushing lust. Your fangs were proof. But this… this was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before. It nearly drove you mad. You could feel your mind slipping, until you took a step forward, then another, and another. The more you walked towards the source of the prior disturbance, the more sated you felt. The more whole. 

It took weeks of fighting others like you and endless backtracking to find the source—a vampire and another beast. It was a bit like a human, but no humans could be in Purgatory. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating. 

Your body shuddered at the proximity of the delicious flesh. The warmth. You were merely a moth, drawn to a flame of your own destruction. Your head swam and you reached towards the man, but another fang sped from the shadows opposite you first. This was just enough of a distraction to pull you back from the brink. 

You crouched behind a half-rotten tree, only one eye peeking from behind your cover. The human barely had time to react before the fiend had him forced into the well-trodden packed earth. His fall was hard. Your mouth watered as his pulse quickened and echoed through your soul. 

The vampire accompanying the human sent the attacker’s head flying so closely that spattered monster blood landed on your hand. The foul stench drove you deeper into the safety of the trunk. You didn’t want to be next. 

In this land, the best way to survive was to stay hidden, quiet, so you decided to follow them for the first few weeks, being careful to keep to the shadows. The thirst for the human ebbed and swelled unpredictably. At times, it was all you could do to resist the pulse exposed on his neck, especially when the man slept. 

For days you tried to figure out what the other one was, who he was, but damn, was he a monster magnet. You’d been in pretty thick shit before, but never like this. Your cover was nearly blown a few times a day, but you were thankful the two were too busy fighting their own to notice you.

“Damn, man. You’re humanity is gon get us kilt.” The vampire wiped the rancid blood from his blade on the latest dead monster’s shirt.

“Yeah well, as soon as we find Cas, we’re getting the hell out of hell.” A human in Purgatory? How? No wonder there had been such a disturbance. He must have been pulled here by a great force--one that very nearly ripped the entire existence apart. 

“Hey brother, I’m startin to think the angel don’t wanna be found. Dean, think about it. Every time we get close, he disappears again.”

“Benny—don’t.” The human stormed away from the vampire. What was going on? A human and an angel? Things must be getting really messy up top.

The vampire, Benny, turned suddenly in your direction, and you closed your eyes, hoping the thick layer of leaves and thorny bushes camouflaged you well enough. It must have, because he merely shrugged and walked after Dean.

This night was the quietest it had been since The Event. It had been hours since the last monster attack and you were almost as exhausted as they looked. It wasn’t long before the men settled down into the dust and a pile of dry brush and began to lightly snore. Usually one stood guard as the other slept, but on this occasion, both must have been too far gone to care. 

You crept slowly forward, focused completely on the human. He was so beautiful. The creases of his forehead were reduced to fine lines as he slumbered, slow, tender breath fluttering across weary-pale swollen lips, freckles and mud mixed on his cheeks, hair tousled and bloodied, yet still so soft and shiny. His lashes twitched as he dreamed. You were only a few feet away now, beginning to feel lost in the warmth radiating from him, drunk in the light from his soul.

A sharp pain through your side interrupted your trance and you collapsed into a prickly shrub. Between gulps of agony, you could just make out that you were pinned to the ground with a rough makeshift javelin, reminiscent of a butterfly pinned to a shadow box as you’d owned as a human. You screamed in pain, and if you weren’t already twice dead, you’d worry about losing too much blood.

A pair of boots came into your view. “I smelled you days ago. I know you’ve been followin’ us. Why haven’t you attacked? You workin for someone?”

You looked from under your brows, straining to see if Dean was still where he had been, but found nothing. All you could do was gasp shallowly against the burning splinters. It had been years since anyone had gotten the jump on you like this. The bit of human that was left within you prayed that this was a bad dream, that you would wake in a moment in the gently swaying safety of the treetops.

The javelin was ripped from your aching side, and you screamed again as your organs smacked back together in the loss of pressure. The vampire threw you against the nearest tree. Through the pain that overwhelmed your ability to flee, you watched in utter captivation as the human secured you with heavy, rusted chains.

The latter bent close to your face, piercing green eyes a stark contrast to the caked mud and blood spattered across pale cheeks. “Now look, you piece of shit. I’m gonna waste you like I’ve wasted every damn thing in this place. But first, you’re gonna tell me where the angel is, and why you’ve been following us. If I like your answer, I’ll make it quick. If not… well, I don’t normally like the answers.” He smirked, tilting his head just slightly as if he was considering just how he was going to end you. 

You gulped hard knowing the human meant business. You’d seen him firsthand, the violence, the rage. All this man left behind him were wide trails of blood.

You were shaking now, feverish and confused. When had your fangs come out? You retracted them in an attempt to look less intimidating and more cooperative. Between gritted teeth and a gradual tunneling of vision, you managed to respond. “I’ve been tracking you since you arrived. There was this storm, and I’ve felt a pull towards you the whole time. I-I don’t work for anyone, I swear.” His gnarly blade pressed into the soft flesh of your throat now and panic was rising  and threatening to close off your throat if the blade didn’t do it first. “I didn’t even know about the angel until earlier today when I overheard you.”

“Well. I don’t think I like your answer.” Dean sliced deeply into your arm, which produced a guttural scream from deep within your core. The blade itself didn’t hurt that bad, but whatever was on it sure did. Benny walked away, knowing what was coming. Benny was a monster—Dean was worse.

“P-please I don’t know, I just know the light—your soul is like a candle in this endless darkness. I’ve been here for so, so long and you feel like home, like safety. I crave your closeness and I don’t know the details of why, but I couldn’t hurt you.”

Benny looked over his shoulder as Dean paused. Something struck a chord. Benny walked back over and pulled Dean slightly off to the side, almost out of earshot.

“Brother, I think she’s tellin’ the truth. We should give this one a chance to talk.”

“Why? She doesn’t know anything about Cas. She’s just another monster in my way.”

“And so was I. We were both human once. Let’s hear her out. She hasn’t even fought back.”

The fatigue and injuries caught up with you. Focusing on the thick red-black ooze streaming from your wounds, sleep was finding you swiftly with your head falling forward, blood-soaked hair in your eyes and chest pulled tight against the restraints.

Dean lifted your chin with the end of his blade, remnants of your internals still glistening on the edge. Your eyes followed the length of his arm to his face where he held you in an unwavering gaze. Those eyes were greener than anything in this world—more than the trees you hid in, the brush around you, or the sparse grass beneath your feet. 

You seized your breath and relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into those eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting. Your mortal soul had been tired in life, grown wearier after you were turned, another century had passed before you’d been sent here after a hunter took you out. The memory flashed by: how you sat there on your knees, glad to be facing the barrel of the gun after so long that you didn’t even fight. Had you known you’d end up here, you may have fought more to stay topside. But now, you faced oblivion, or so you hoped. This would finally be the end of the suffering, the fighting.

Dean must have read the all-too-familiar look of defeat and acceptance in your face. He lowered the knife, letting your head fall forward again, and caught you in his arms as the chains broke and clattered to the dust.

He leaned you against the base of the tree. You weakly gazed upward through hooded eyes, wanting to see past the leaves to the empty sky, but couldn’t. It was all grisly branches for a hundred feet up.

“Why were you creeping up on me?” Dean pulled your attention back to them.

Battling the unconsciousness that nipped unwaveringly at the corners of your mind, you whispered, “The ache in my chest… the closer I get to you, the easier it is to handle. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed to be... closer.”

“And is this better?” He motioned to the foot’s distance between you.

“Yeah,” You half-smiled through gritted teeth, the pain from your side still throbbing. It wouldn’t kill you. Nothing in Purgatory killed a monster except another monster—usually by beheading. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and left you exposed and vulnerable like a wounded animal.

He pursed his lips and shared a look with Benny, who shrugged. “I’ll stay up and watch, Dean. You get more rest before it starts again. And I’ll watch you, specifically.” The other vampire motioned at you, an intensity behind his blue eyes you could identify with. This human was meant to be protected, no matter the personal cost.

Dean was soon asleep again, his back turned to you.

The earth supporting your broken form was anything but forgiving. But still, you weren’t going to waste time whimpering to yourself now that you were a part of the misfit group. “Benny, where are you from? How long have you been here?” You wondered aloud.

He eyed you suspiciously, pausing before he answered. “I ran with a crew out of Louisiana, but we sailed all over the Americas. Been here a long time.”

You adjusted your position with a grunt. Benny’s hand was already on his weapon. “Calm down, sailor, just tryin to get comfortable... I’m from Shreveport. Been here a long time, too. Only did about two centuries up top, though.”

“Well, I’ve got a few on you then, sister. Shreveport was nice. Rolled through there a few times.” The vampire chuckled at the memory.

Even still, your body had different plans for the evening, and if anything else was said afterwards, you wouldn’t remember. Rest was in the cards that evening, even if your mind protested. Between stretches of sweet nothing, nightmarish memories flashed by in haphazard, non-chronological snippets. 

There you stood, on the bridge above deep, twisting waters. Though the wind whipped your hair wildly, you could feel nothing. Not since the day you were bit.

Then you were in the shed on your grandfather’s land, centuries before, when you were young but still so old. Had you ever had a chance? And there were fires and anthills, guns and chains. 

Before that one could go where you knew it would, you shot awake. Benny raised a concerned brow in your direction, but you couldn’t face him. Not after that. Within moments, sleep took you once again. 

The butterfly pinned in the box. Such a stark contrast was that orange and red and blue against the green felt and the glint of silver pins. You would chuckle at the sight if you could. Tiny fingers traced the outline of the glass. 

Then you were on your knees. You didn’t even fight. This? This was the day you died… the second time. By the hands of an inexperienced young hunter who was too focused on fighting with his dad to even notice you there. I mean, he practically tripped over you. The boy looked tall for his age, hazel eyes partially obscured by choppy bangs and mouth pressed into a thin line. He hesitated too long. You’d cocked your head to the side, wondering if he even had it in him to off you, and you almost felt sorry for the kid. Especially when his dad saw. The old black-haired ass berated him, belittled him. Compared him to his older brother. A disgrace, he’d said. Nothing like him, nothing like Mary. When the boy could look you in the eyes, you gave a slight nod as if to say, “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Those bright hazel eyes morphed into the moon cast over a monster wasteland. 

By morning’s light, you felt better, somewhat healed, but mostly sore. You and Benny spoke all the while, learned your ins and outs, and caught up on the situation with Dean, the toothy leviathans, the apocalypse (again), the dick angels, and everything else Dean had filled him in on weeks ago. If you weren’t in Purgatory yourself, you never would’ve believed all this. I mean, angels? C’mon. 

Sure enough, Benny was right. Beasts continued to attack in waves. There were a few close calls, and not one would speak of the whereabouts of the angel Castiel, though a few tried to save themselves by spouting lies. Dean would see right through them. It only ever took one question. “What color are the angel’s eyes?” A few had gotten lucky and guessed blue, but Dean didn’t even accept that answer. You asked once, what answer he was hoping for. He only shook his head in response. 

There were times, though, when he would describe Cas to you in the quiet of night, and it was like listening to a lost lover. Dean gave in after some months and described the angel’s eyes as full of grace, blue, but slightly glowing. And not just any blue, no. The bluest blue you could ever imagine. The purest blue. He spoke longingly about things they’d done, things he wanted to do, wanted to say. Needed to say. You would close your eyes and drift off to him mumbling stories of Cas, the fondness softening his voice.

It was dark again and the almost empty end of a particularly difficult day. You’d all sustained serious injuries from the violent fray that only seemed to become more dense as of late. You and Benny would heal quickly, but Dean wouldn’t… and you worried for him, lingering protectively close.

The weary hunter screamed in time with the monster as he thrust his knife through its eye, his voice echoing long after the lifeless body crumpled in front of him. In a rage, he threw his weapon down, stalking over to a nearby tree. He punched, kicked and threw himself against the bark until he was nearly bloodied beyond recognition. Benny could only look down, powerless to help his friend. Unable to watch any longer, you forced yourself between Dean and the tree. His eyes were closed until his bruised fists struck soft skin stretched over bone, the unexpected change in texture catching him off guard. You winced against it but grabbed his jacket in both hands, balling your own fists into it to hold him firmly in place. Jerking him forward until you were nose to nose, breath and blood mixing, you growled, “We will find him, Dean. But not if you kill yourself first.”

“Y-you sound like him,” His voice cracked and his head fell to your shoulder. You could feel his tears, hot on your frozen skin. This world was so cold and it never ceased to amaze you how he kept his warmth. You held him tightly, even as his knees buckled and swayed. By the state of those green eyes, you could see resignation and defeat creeping up on him. 

You shared a look with Benny, and he knew, too. “I’ll keep watch. You make him rest, cher.” You’d come to learn that Benny preferred to keep watch from all the years he’d had to watch his own backside here. You’d survived in hiding, while he’d made a name for himself—a killer, like Dean (not that either of them ever wanted to be.) You had to give it to him, though. After all, you’d tried to fight off everything in the beginning, but it was too tiring, like living was. So instead, you learned to thrive in shadows and whispers, moving like a ghost through whispers of the trees.

You were grateful for the moment alone with the warm beacon of a man, though. If the electricity across your skin anytime you touched the human indicated anything, it was a confirmation of your heart’s longing. You kept him pulled flush against your chest, his heartbeat so strong that it reverberated through your body. You focused on the feeling. How many centuries had it been since you felt your own beating? Dean’s was so strong it could surely support you both, you thought.

With a groan, Dean pulled the two of you down into a horizontal heap. You couldn’t make out the details of his face in the dark abyss of night, but his heart rate had shifted notably, along with his breathing. His anguish was palpable and you couldn’t help but to take some of it on as your own. He exuded it, it leaked from every pore. 

Supple lips brushed against yours, and you closed your eyes, slowly guiding one hand to his back above you and the other through his hair. It was as soft and silky as you’d hoped it was. You pulled just slightly, allowing your nails to gently spread and retract in circular motions. Dean clenched, the softest sounds carrying on the thick night air. Smiling at the reaction, you carded through the messy spikes and repeated the measure for several moments before Dean crashed into you, with his sudden need matching yours. Every kiss grew deeper, longer, and your tongues began to wrestle gently but urgently between locked lips. He grabbed at you hungrily with a certain ease, unable to hold back anymore, with palms stroking openly up and down your torso, until they slipped below your core.

You both pushed and pulled, wallowed and rolled, careful of injuries but powerless to pull away, fighting to get closer. You helped him slip from his leather jacket, and he groaned into your mouth with a tantalising mixture of pain and pleasure. The sound made you shiver, and you hastily removed yourselves from worn and tattered pants, breaking only for a moment. 

“Shh, Dean,” you whispered next to his ear. He nodded, understanding that even in this embrace, you were exposed and hunted. But with skin on skin, it was difficult to keep logic and sanity at the forefront of your mind. 

Dean slowed his pace and shifted until you were straddling him. With a touch so light it tickled, he let his hands trace every angle of your body, until he felt the latest wound and drew back suddenly. 

“It’s okay,”  you breathed into his gaping mouth. 

“No, I-- I’m sorry.” His voice was feeble, desperate. 

Taking his hand in yours, you placed it back where it’d been. It was a small gesture, but the effect it had on Dean was profound. With both hands now, he clutched your sides so tightly, it sent swells of something delicious straight to your center, before rippling out to every nerve ending exposed to the cool air, and then some. 

Just as you began to give in, a rustle from only several feet away snapped you back to reality. You shot up upon bare feet, weapon already in your hand as you scanned the malevolent shadows for the source, listening and feeling for any shift in the air. Dean lay frozen by your feet, head still spinning in weakness and lust.

In a swift turn on the balls of your feet, you faced the intruder, ready for war. 

“It’s just me, cher. I heard something and wanted to make sure you two were okay.” As Benny took in the situation, he laughed softly. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll be over there…”

With an annoyed frown, you allowed your stance to go slack. “Thanks.”

Dean touched your leg, leaning in to kiss it lightly before planting a little nibble at your ankle. You slipped back down next to him, gasping when he quickly found your neck and nipped along your clavicle to the sweet spot in the hollow of your neck.

He was shaking slightly under the strain, but lifted himself atop you. To help keep him steady, you placed your hands on his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his torso. With a grateful kiss, he traced his tongue across your bottom lips as he lined himself at your entrance. 

His tip sank into your soaked folds and his resulting keen made you tremble beneath him, itching for more. “Dean, p-please…”

“What do you want?”

You rotated your hips against his, fighting to make him move. “Please, fuck… Dean I need you. Need more.”

Your begging tore his resolve to shreds and he sunk into you, stretching and filling you like nothing ever before. Your back arched at the sensations as they nearly overwhelmed you, drowning out the hell around you and leaving only Dean. Your heavy breathing barely registered as you whined his name. A shallow shriek betrayed you. Dean placed a calloused hand over your mouth, and it only drove you more mad. 

As he bottomed out and began short but powerful thrusts, tears gathered at the edges of your eyes. Everytime, he hit that sweet spot. Everytime, you whimpered into his hand and dug your fingers into his flesh tighter. Everytime, he moaned in response. 

It wasn’t long before those slow, drawn out jolts coiled you so tight you could barely contain yourself. Dean could sense the change as you began to rub against him, allowing the friction to take you over the edge. Right as you fell off into a fierce and roiling sea of ecstasy, Dean replaced his hand over your mouth with his own, swallowing your choppy breaths as you twitched and spasmed beneath him. 

Still lost in the swell, you felt the hunter release and fall, spent, onto your chest. You managed to wrap your arms around him and held him steadfastly, not ready to let go. It was incredible to watch Dean unravel and relax for the first time. In fact, it’d just become your favorite drug. 

Unknown to the broken lovers, a pair of “gorilla-wolves” attempted to interrupt throughout the steamy romp in the leaves, but Benny quickly took care of them. The nasty things wouldn’t have gotten as close as they had, but the vampire had been distracted by the sinfully delicious sounds coming from the far side of the tree. He’d tried to ignore it at first but found his mind wandering. It’d been ages since he’d felt the touch of another being, and the want rose up in him, a fire in his stomach.

You panted next to Dean when he rolled to the side, your injuries far from mind in the lasting rapture from being one with the human. His breathing was still ragged, but slowing. The wound on the back of his shoulder had reopened. Begrudgingly , he let you patch it again. Once dressed, you fell back to the sorry bed of leaves. Dean nuzzled into your side and let out a pained sigh as sleep found him. You could’ve sworn you heard the faintest “Don’t let me die here…” fall from his lips. Your grip on him tightened. You’d get him out if it killed you. But first, you had to find that elusive angel.

It was another month of the same routine. Days and nights ran together. The closer you got to the angel, the denser the swarm of monsters was. Even Benny seemed to be on his last leg. You offered to keep watch this time. At first Benny protested, but you shut him down.

“It’s broad daylight out here. I can see them coming from far enough off, I can give you plenty of time to wake up and fight if I can’t handle it. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t feel like protesting too much, and finally nodded, sad blue eyes locking on yours in a silent promise of trust in comradery.

A few hours passed, and you stood to stretch. A twig snapped behind you, and you twirled quickly, your knife to Benny’s throat. His hands raised. “Sorry cher, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Nearly lost your fool head. Why aren’t you resting?” You dropped your arms and stood next to the vampire, staring out through the forest again, scanning. Listening.

“I rested enough.”

“Right, that’s why you have to use that tree to support yourself.” His lips pressed into a hard smile, electric eyes dropping to the ground. When he looked back up, something in them had changed. He reached towards you, hesitant, and brushed the wavy mess of hair from your face behind your ear, hand gently gliding across your jaw until his thumb rested on your lip.

You closed your eyes and shuddered under the vampire’s touch. It was more familiar than Dean’s. You leaned into it, following as it guided you into his embrace. He was larger than Dean and still smelled of the swamp and sea. The scent was intoxicating, dragging all of your attention to Benny. 

He pulled back for a moment and cradled your face in the large, thick hands of a sailor. “You okay with this? Don’t want you to feel pressured, darlin’.”

“Mm not pressured,” you smiled up into those spirited sharp blue eyes. You lost yourself in them, completely ensnared. You could see past them, to cerulean glittering waters, could feel the lapping of them against your old boat, hear the seagulls and crows chattering as they glided on heatwaves, taste the salt on your tongue. 

You stretched up on your tiptoes, craning to taste the salt on his lips, feel the waves in the way his tongue twists. Benny must have felt the same, as he met your parted lips in a feverish kiss, maneuvering you effortlessly between himself and the tree for support until he was rutting into you.

The touch was bittersweet and starved, driving both of you as you stripped away layers. Benny pressed into you until the bark bit into your back and arms. You knocked the hat from atop his head to get closer, to guide him in, and he responded by taking the thin flesh of your neck into his mouth. Fangs drug thin scratch lines over your chest and shoulders, followed by sucking kisses. Benny grunted as he settled next to your ear, the growing bulge in his remaining trousers becoming almost painful in the restriction. 

Sensing this, you moved to loosen the last piece of his clothing until it slumped to his ankles, all the while raw, needy noises spilled from your mouth. If only you’d found each other topside, things would have been better. You wouldn’t have let that young, long-haired hunter boy and his grumpy father kill you.

In one smooth move, Benny hooked his fingers into your jeans and slid them off, until you were completely free of them. With lust in your eyes, you found his full lips once more. You bit and sucked at his bottom lip until he was throbbing against you and whispering your name in short breaths in desperation. 

With a slight adjustment in position, he grabbed your ribcage and lifted you just enough to line himself at your entrance. Hungrily, you raised your knees and rested them on his sides. You dug your nails into his shoulders in anticipation, but he didn’t keep you waiting long. With a final shift of his angle, Benny slid into you unrestrained.

His pace was unforgiving. He was rougher, more desperate, yet somehow more controlled than Dean. Pain was something you both knew too well, and found pleasure in at this moment. Neither of you had to hold back in fear of hurting the other. 

Benny muttered a long string of praises as he placed his cheek on yours and relished in the fragmented breaths and mewls leaking from your gaping mouth.

Between the friction to your front and the sharp ache in your back, the intense set of his pace brought unwanted tears to the corners of your eyes. Before you knew it, he had you biting back a scream as you came in his arms, your back digging into the tree as he held you through it. You sank your teeth into his neck, drawing blood and pushing back the sharper set as they threatened to emerge. He snarled into your ear and released, standing for a moment, relishing in your closeness.

For a time, you just remained in that position as he softened inside you, foreheads resting fondly on each other.

Dean stirred, grumbling as he woke. With a silently shared promise to continue the embrace another day, the two of you straightened yourselves back out and rounded the tree to greet the sleep-starved human.

Over the next two weeks, the three of you grew much closer. Sometimes in between attacks, you took solace in each other. Most times it was talk, but when words were too difficult and your bodies needed to feel something… else, something primal and good and pure, they would pass you between them, never straying too far.

Benny's eyes would always drift and land upon Deans. It intoxicated him, pulled at his heart in ways that tore him apart. Deep green eyes, full of hope and goodness and humanity… something fragile yet unbreakable, much like what he once saw in Andrea’s. Just like Andrea’s. As much as he tried to put her memory to rest, Dean’s gaze would always take his breath, whether they were fighting or fucking, and the feelings that washed over Benny were wild and raw.

You ventured off to scout ahead one day, leaving Benny to help Dean walk after a surprise run in with a gorilla wolf didn’t fare so well. Those things sure liked Dean. Could you blame them? As you cleared the spaces ahead, you reminisced on the first time it happened. 

It’d started innocently enough, some kissing and tender touches traded between you and Dean. You craved comfort, and his touch never disappointed. The fading daylight illuminated something… different, something new in his eyes. There was a spark of acceptance? Resignation? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but for some reason the usually tightly wound hunter was relaxed. His movements were delicate and slow, a stark contrast to the usual quickie on the run. 

You nearly lost your balance when he stripped your pants away and traced deliberate sucking kisses down to your sweet spot. You’d had to catch yourself from falling over at the heady sensations, threading your hands into his hair and holding on for dear life (or death.) Within moments, Benny swooped in to support you from behind, snaking a strong arm around your stomach as Dean began to lick and hum and stroke you in ways you’d never felt. Your blood burned like fire, causing every inch of your skin to become more sensitive. 

Benny brushed the hair from your shoulder with his free hand, then took a fistful of it and guided your head back. With a contented sigh, he took your exposed neck into his mouth and you twitched violently between the shivers running down and the heat rising up. The contrast of Dean’s soft lips to the burn of his stubble mirrored that of the rough, blood soaked fabric of Benny’s jacket against the smooth of your skin… and it drove you mad. Your vision swelled with every wave and the sounds of the cursed world around you faded as if cotton had been shoved in your ears. 

Your legs gave way and you fell into Dean’s lap as he chuckled, watching you come undone. The orgasm hit you somewhere along the way down, untouched but wound so tightly that you couldn’t hold out another moment.

While you writhed against him, Dean held you securely to his chest with arms that crushed into your ribs and pinned your arms to your sides. Your head finally came to rest upon his shoulder, and as your senses eased back into focus, you realized that you were completely laid down upon his bare chest. Still buzzing from the high, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck and laid a small peck. Dean’s resulting smile stretched wide, and you could feel it there without even needing to see it. 

“You okay, baby?” Dean gently stroked your back up and down with one hand, and moved to tangle strong fingers in your hair to hold the base of your head tenderly with the other. 

When you found your voice, you muttered a small, “yeah, thank you.”

Benny kneeled beside you and lowered his face until your foreheads met, the three of you so impossibly close. “You up for some more, sugar?”

You smiled wryly and closed your eyes. “Yeah, I’m all yours.”

Though your limbs were but heavy gelatin, you managed to lift out of your shirt as the men undressed. Pulling Dean’s discarded coat over you like a blanket, you rested against a fallen tree and admired them. Dean was more slender, but faster and stronger. The way his muscles rippled and creased beneath pale, freckled skin reminded you of a swimmer--all lean and mean. He was graceful in every movement, like a dancer. Benny was a little more solid, built like a tank. Maybe he wasn’t as fast, but there was no going through him. You’d seen beasts hit him straight on with full power, and the vampire had barely flinched. Those fists could break anything, but his face was always… soft. Kind. Dean’s was hardened, but you couldn’t blame him. And yes, there were moments, like this, where the lines of his face smoothed, and some color returned to his cheeks. 

How you’d ever found Heaven in this Hell, you’d never come to understand. But you were ever grateful. Hopeful for a future with them topside, however it may go. 

Dean’s outstretched hand pulled you from your daydream. You took it, letting the jacket go as he helped you stand. As you stood, he continued to pull you forward until you were flush with him. He pressed a firm kiss to your scalp and rubbed his palms up and down your body. His cock twitched against your belly, and you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing just a little tighter at the new flood of arousal. 

Benny snaked his arms around you from behind, until his hands rested on your neck, not gripping, but just *there.* The weight of them naturally guided your head to fall back against his chest. He growled into your ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful. So good for us, cher.”

Your mouth fell agape and released a strangled moan as Dean kissed along your exposed neck and mumbled a steady stream of “You’re such a good girl for us, such a good fighter, a great companion.” 

With every word, a new fire raged through your veins. Your face burned hot. Dean’s hands wandered south, caressing every inch passionately. One hand found its home grasping your thigh right under your ass, and the other came to rest in your dripping folds. You bucked against the touch and right into Benny’s length resting between your cheeks. 

You whimpered, needing more, needing release. “D-Dean please, fuck. I need you. I want you inside me, please--unnghh.”

Dean teased your entrance for a moment more before the wrecked look on your face and the subtle, high pitched sounds spilling from you completely enraptured him. Benny nodded, moving his hands to steady your sides as you squirmed uncontrollably. With a swift movement, you were raised up with both of Dean’s hands cupping and spreading your ass until he lined up at your folds and let you sink down much too slowly. 

Pathetic cries filled the air as you struggled to maintain control, the stretch of him almost too much to handle and not nearly enough all at once. You shook and grabbed at anything you could hold with a flutter in your chest that threatened to make you implode. And yet, the intense feelings only grew. Benny planted himself and anchored with a strong arm outstretched and clutching to Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean bit his lip fiercely and let out a pained groan at the other man’s unyielding hold on him. His cock twitched again as he bottomed out deep inside you. The depth burned and ached, and with it your eyes came to focus on Dean’s. 

The emerald green was more prominent now, outlined by the hot blush beneath a spray of freckles. His brows were drawn tightly and jaw slack, full, pink lips parted in bliss. His breathing was erratic, and with every intake of cool evening air, Dean trembled. 

You mewled and whined, shifted against them, desperate for friction. The slightest broken smile graced the hunter’s face and he nodded, knowing but not yet ready. 

Tears already began to gather as you fought the urge to physically fight the men into submission, to finally scratch that itch. Benny didn’t leave you waiting much longer though, before he was slipping and pushing into place in your ass. The deliberate burn of him spreading you open opposite Dean left you thrashing between them. 

Dean took a deep breath in as a reminder for you to do the same. If it weren’t for him grounding you and helping you through, the black void would’ve already sucked you in as another victim. You did your best to relax and bore down, allowing Benny to fill your other hole completely to his base. 

The vampire grimaced through his own keening, the tightness of you nearly sending him over the edge right there and then. You stilled between them, already on the verge of destruction as the three of you adjusted to the new feelings washing over you in waves. 

Dean’s lips found yours, open and wanting. Taking his tongue hungrily into your mouth, you sucked and fell absolutely limp as he sucked your lower lip between his. The scent of him was utterly intoxicating, and you were ready once more. 

Benny began to move in tandem with Dean. With every movement of the both of them against your thin membrane, a wailing cry seeped between your clenched teeth. Benny was now clutching both of Dean’s shoulders so tightly that were white bloodless patches beneath each of his fingertips. This made Dean buck harder until the hunter’s eyes shut tightly and left his head bobbing backwards in lust. 

The symphony of your cries was lost beneath those of the two men, who shuddered and swayed. The sweet, sinful music flooded your mind and sent you reeling over the edge once more, clenching and swearing and falling against Benny’s outstretched arm. 

Dean’s thrusts faltered as his stuttered, “I’m.. I’m about to--”

“Just let go, brother,” Benny encouraged. 

It was the only confirmation Dean needed before his load spilled into you, sending renewed longing to your stomach as he pulsed inside you. “Fuck Dean,.. You feel so good,” you managed.

Benny came seconds later, and you relished in the full warmth of them. 

You smiled to yourself as the familiar electricity flooded your veins and leaked to your core. It may have been the first time, but every time since had only been… better. Impossibly, incredibly better. 

Upon your return, you noticed that Dean had found new strength.

“We’re closer than ever to Cas, he’s three days away by the river. We’re almost done! We can go home!” Dean was grinning widely, a spark finally back in his tired eyes.

You smiled, scooping him into a rough embrace. If Dean was happy, you were happy. Benny joined you in the bear hug. You were so ready to be topside again, and now, it was so close you could just taste it.

Your second chance.

With a start, Benny hollered and let go, leaving Dean tense and alert in your arms. Then, he threw you to the side as a beast attacked. Its whole face morphed into a shark-tooth ringed mouth, and you grimaced.

Leviathan. You must’ve been really close to that angel.

You drew your weapon as one engaged you, swung and lopped its head off easily after years of practice, until something glinting and sharp emerged where it should not have been.

You looked down, the blade bloodied and protruding through your chest, through your lungs. Unable to draw a breath, you fell to your knees.

“No!” Both Benny and Dean were yelling, voices echoing through the hostile forest. Black ooze covered them from the slain monsters. You looked up as your assailant withdrew the sizable knife from your back and placed it against your neck. It was another vampire. You looked back to the boys.

“You killed our sister, so now we’re gonna kill yours,” the voice behind you teased in a sing-songy tone. More boots shuffled into your line of view.

Benny looked absolutely broken as he charged, extra teeth bared sharply in defiance. Dean bounded to you, holding your gaze with those emerald green eyes as he expertly dodged the advances of his adversaries.

Once again, your breath was seized and you relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into the comforting depths of that hunter’s eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting…This would finally be the end of the suffering. To oblivion. The warmth from Dean’s soul flooded over you as he got closer, but it was too late.

Your head rolled from your body. 

Dean decimated the group of vampires in record time, the rage fully restored and urging his body forward against all odds. Once again, the hunter had become more vicious than any monster in the land. In two days, he would limp to the river and find his angel.

You, however, woke on the other side of Purgatory. Oblivion was not something that would ever come for you. There would never be a release. Despair, overcoming any hope you ever had, creeped its dark tendrils through your entire being and swiped your feet from underneath you. So that’s what happens to monsters who die in monster heaven… they get respawned and zapped to another part. Great. You were stuck in hell, too far away now to reach them in time. One day you would find a way out. You had to. But first, you would have to find the strength. Strength you may never have again. You curled into a ball, mind silent as you gave into the feeling, a single, small tear streaking a thin line from your eye into the dust. 

You were alone. Again. 

Your second chance gone along with the human and his friends.

 This was my second attempt at writing smut and maybe I got carried away??

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles​ @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch​ @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog​ @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0​ @impala-dreamer​ @arryn-nyxx​ @idk-life01 @attorneyl​ @deathtonormalcy56​ @xwing-baby​ @wonder-cole​ @itsangelpie-supports​ @thinkinghardhardlythinkingogblog​@icecream-and-gadreel

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling​ @abbessolute @emptywithout​

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278​ @will-winchester

#spndarkbingo #2020-21 #beacon to beasts #dean x reader #benny x reader #dean x reader x benny #smut #read the warnings #chris writes sometimes #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn smut #dean smut #benny smut #dean winchester x you #benny lafitte

[modern-vellichor]

Grief, is a Beautiful Thing

Stage One; Denial

Warnings: Grief!! Mentions of death, suicide. Loss of a major character. Battles with depression, silent tears, heart and gut wrenching sadness, indirect and very minor smut just to keep you on your toes.

Prologue || Series Masterlist

Denial; refusal to acknowledge an unacceptable truth or emotion or to admit it into consciousness, used as a defense mechanism.

You acted fine, you smiled and went along like nothing happened, like Steve would just walk around the corner and kiss your forehead, just like old times.

You took his place at the head of the table for a while, hell, you took over the whole compound. You were planning missions, doing research, organising accommodation and transport, planning classic Stark celebration parties.

Bucky saw through your act, of course he did. Sam did too, they were your best friends after all.

Your room was directly on top of Bucky's, down the hall from Sam's. When they walked by your door late at night, sometimes they would hear sniffling, little secret whimpers and whines. They never said anything.

You threw yourself into not only your work, but replacing your family. You treated Peter like a younger brother, and Morgan like she was your own. Bucky and Sam would watch as you played with Morgan, helping her with homework, checking on Pepper.

Eventually, the whimpers morphed into hushed whispers.

You spoke to the moon.

Bucky could remember Steve telling him that one morning. Every night you turned to the moon and whispered a little 'goodnight', and if you were angry, or sad, you would beg her to take your problems away.

"He's gonna come back, I know he is", Bucky had his ear pressed against your door. "He's a good man, he wouldn't just leave us like that, not me, especially not Bucky"

He smiled, it was sad and small and it didn't reach his eyes.

Nightly you would talk to her, the lady in the sky, glowing bright and bringing you peace. There she was, all the time, never leaving you. You started to go numb, your body shutting down, your brain struggling to cope. You fell. And Bucky was there to catch you.

Barnes was away on a mission, on that you had organised, you completely forgot. You were lost in a state of doubt and self pity you didn't even hear your door click open. You didn't register the light spilling into your room from the hallway, or the thud of thick combat boots being chucked onto the floor. You didn't flinch when the mattress dipped next to you, only did your eyelids flutter when a cool, metal arm was thrown over your waist.

"Hey, Buck", you sighed, eyes closed.

"What's wrong?"

What's Wrong. He asked that at least once a day. Once a day he asked a question who's answer was so blatantly obvious, but you never told the truth.

Never once did you utter, 'the love of my life left me for another woman, or, 'l lost my mentor and father figure because I wasn't smart enough, not even, 'my best friend sacrificed herself to save me and half the fucking planet'.

No, you always just smiled, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, his back, his arm -never his hand- and whispering, "Nothing, Buck, I'm fine"

He never argued either, just smiling back, pain and sad, but a smile nonetheless. He never pressed further, he never asked if you needed help, he was just there. He was a failsafe, he was always there, just in case you needed him. Right now, you did, but you were in Denial.

So he pulled you closer to himself, wrapping the duvet around the both of you. His breath fanned over the bare skin of your shoulder, his fingers traced absentminded circles on the soft flesh of your hip, his eyes fluttered closed and his heart rate slowed. You waited for a while, feeling him. Feeling his steady breath and his loose grip and his slow heartbeat, just like you used to with Steve.

He was so much like Steve, in so many ways, but at the same time he was do wildly different. You thought it was beautiful, poetic. How America's Golden Boy, the model citizen, the good guy, protagonist, could be best friends with James Barnes, an army vet who couldn't give two shits even if he tried. You thought it was funny, you idolised their friendship.

"I'm sorry he left you", you whispered, voice cracking as you let the veil slip.

Tears rolled steadily down the side of your face, over the bridge of your nose, pooling on your pillow. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Bucky didn't hear you, didn't feel you, he was fast asleep, somewhere far away, with Steve, happy, you hope.

"I could have stopped him. I know "I could have stopped him. I know I could have, its okay, 'll get him back", you promised your sleeping friend.

With the denial and the numbness, and the constant work, came the forgetfulness.

You were in shock, it was normal. It was always small, forgetting your keys, or to eat breakfast, but it still made Bucky worry. You were coming apart at the seams, spilling guts and your shattered heart onto the floor by his feet, and he had to pick you up, and sew you back together. You just wouldn't let him.

Often, too often, he would catch you doing something you and Steve used to do together.

You would be reading a book, mind far away, and your spare hand would reach out for him. The look on your face was pain and regret and anger all in one, tears pricking your eyes as you recoiled your now balled up fist.

On the jet, you would reach out for reassurance, before and after a mission, and he would be gone.

You reached out for him, his wife frame squashed into the seat next to yours. You lifted your chin to admire him, in all his blood and mud caked glory, you smiled, eyes bright and glistening, cheeks blushing as he kissed the tip of your nose.

One of your hands reached down and interlaced fingers with his, your other wrapped itself around his arm. You leaned down, bead going slack against his shoulder. He let out a breathy laugh, a lovely laugh that ignited a fire in your belly. He ran a hand over your hair, brushing dried dirt and coppery blood from your cheek.

"You did so well, baby", he whispered. "You're incredible, you know that", his words were mumbled into your hair between kisses. You giggled, you learned from the best, and you made sure he knew it.

Your hand was tucked into your chest, the image of Steve in the seat next to yours all too fresh in your mind. The jet landed with a soft thud, and you ran through the compound to your room, not even bothering to grab your bag on the way in.

Bucky spent hours trying to coax you out of your room, listening to the soft sniffles and quiet sobs.

"Y/N, doll", he begged, pleaded, "please, let me in"

He was delighted to hear the soft bad of bare feet and the clicking of your lock. He shoved his way into your room, assertive and gentle, wrapping you in a hug and kicking the door shut behind him.

It was moments like these that brought tears to your eyes. It was the domesticity of it all, the soft touched, the way he drew circles on your lower back, ran a hand through your hair. It was the way he held you until you slept, whispering sweet reassurance into your hair, soft kisses to your forehead as you wept.

The next morning you called him into your office, Sam making a joke as he walked away.

"I have a mission for you, Barnes"

"Yes, ma'am", he responded, jokingly.

"Surveillance in Budapest, drug lord, Lloyd Montgomery", you stated. You never were good at briefings, not like Steve. "two weeks stay, you're leaving tomorrow morning."

He chuckled at your expression, brows furrowed, lips pulled into a frown. "Who am I bringing? Sam?"

"No, me"

The motel room was damp and dingy, mould grew in the corners of the ceiling, the mattresses were lumpy, the curtains damp.

You rolled over uncomfortably, chasing the sweet relief of sleep that wouldn't come. Day three had trickled by ever so slowly, you should've sent Sam on this one.

You rolled over, maybe Bucky was awake. You were met by a pair of startlingly blue eyes and a mischievous grin.

"Hello, doll", he smiled.

"morning, sergeant"

"What do you want?"

You stopped, thinking for a moment. You sat up against the headboard, Bucky switching on a light and mimicking your actions.

"A story", you finally whispered, smiling. You loved Bucky's stories, tales from before the war. Adventures, memories, stories of hard liquor and pretty girls and sometimes both.

"about what, doll?"

"A girl", you loved Bucky, he was always so soft when it came to his women. He described them like the finest piece of artwork he had ever seen, like they were an otherworldly being not worthy of his touch, like he was blessed just to be acknowledged by them.

"Her name was Rosalind"

You smiled, "Pretty name, who was she?"

"My first real crush. She was a waitress at the cafe my Ma took us to on a Sunday. I used to sneak in there after school just to catch a glimpse of her", he smiled, reminiscing.

You and Bucky both loved how vivid his memory could be sometimes, even after the brainwashing. He could describe some of his core memories like they were yesterday, others were a little fuzzy.

"She was gorgeous, most beautiful broad in Brooklyn. She had this red hair, real curly, stopped just below her shoulders. Real pale skin, too, freckles everywhere, and I mean everywhere"

You laughed at the little comment, waiting for him to continue.

"She wore these real thick glasses, right on the tip of her nose, she had the thickest Brooklyn accent I've ever heard, too. And these gorgeous brown eyes, they looked like they were just holes, like never ending or something, portals, I dont know", you laughed again, this time he joined you.

"Anyway, one day she caught me staring, wrote her address on my napkin. I showed up at her door that evening, told Ma I was staying with Steve. She had this birthmark, on her back. It started at the apex of her thigh and ended just above her hip, she called me Buckaroo when she said goodnight. Gave me a kiss, right on the tip of my nose and said, "See you tomorrow, Buckaroo""

You smiled, a pang of jealousy settling in your stomach, but you brushed it off. "She sounds real pretty, Buck"

"Oh she was, nice too, polite and friendly, real smart, kinda like you", you blushed at the compliment.

Bucky said a quick goodnight, turning off the light and falling asleep, you following after.

The lights were low. Music hummed softly, a hand wrapped in yours. Your eyes trailed up the arm, to find Bucky at the end of it, smiling down at you. He placed a quick kiss on your lips, "c'mon, pup"

He pulled you through the crowd, away from the party, a dress danced around your heel clad ankles as you jogged to keep up with him. He pulled you into an elevator, sporting that signature mischievous grin of his.

Next thing you know you were tangled under the sheets, Bucky on top of you placing soft kisses down your neck, sucking softly on your pulse spot.

"You're so beautiful, doll", he hummed, "so, so beautiful, all for me"

A thin layer of sweat was forming on your skin, Bucky still covering you with sweet kisses as one hand tangled in your hair, the other working it's way between your legs.

Your name fell off his lips like a mantra, a litany, a prayer for redemption, "Y/N, Y/N", over and over again like it was addictive.

"Y/N", Bucky shook you awake, you had broken out in a cold sweat. He wrapped his arms around your shaking frame, "Its okay, doll, it was just a dream. You're alright, I'm right here, doll, right here".

#captain america x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x you #marvel fic

[scrollypoly]

EJ with an ANGRY mate

Skskksk now that I think about it, I don't think it would be that hard to irritate his mate 🤭🤭

A list of ways Jack can piss off his mate (ranging from mild irritation to full on rage):

Waking up on a hot summer morning and finding this hot ass man wrapped around you like a ribbon. Its 80⁰ in that bedroom, your boy already runs hot as hell, and you really have to pee. He growls if you move him.

Finding small little rips and snags and tears in furniture. He's got claws he can't help it :(

Snarling at random people. Stranger looking at you? His teeth are bared. Even just for the poor Starbucks barista. It was kinda cute at first, but you just want your coffee without giving the guy a heart attack, damn.

Ya boy has a tail. Stuff gets knocked over sometimes :/ Once again, he cant help it.

Also gets the random cat instinct to bat stuff off of shelves and counters. Probably baby-proof your place. Err, Jack-proof.

No such thing as a locked door. Its just gonna get ripped off its hinges. What do you need to hide anyway?

No human socializing means no sense of human boundaries. Good for communication and snuggling, but going back to that privacy thing, yeah thats a small issue.

If you're a person who gets periods, whoo boy. Mans thinks your injured and hovers and hens till you tell him. The poor guy doesn't get it; since he gets heats he kinda treats it like that. Super overprotective to the point of smothering. Kinda sweet tho.

Marking his territory. Just gonna leave it at that.

Stubborn boy. Will throw a small fit if you dont listen to him when he's sure its important. This may involve breaking things.

Also gets jealous. That stuffed toy you were cuddling? Ripped and trashed.

When he nests, your stuff will go missing. One time your whole closet got emptied out without your knowledge. You found your clothes covered in dead leaves, mud, and animal skins. Needless to say, that was a long laundry day, and an even longer scolding for your boyfriend.

At least you don't have to worry about him emptying your fridge. But you have accidentally eaten some . . . questionable food before. You got him his own fridge.

He has also tracked blood and bodily entrails into your house more times than you can count. Sometimes even a whole body. Its gotten to the point that if you hear him come in late, you stay in your room and hope its done by morning.

This is more of a fear than an anger thing, but he probably has killed someone in front of you at least once. Not like a "look how strong I am! Good for mate :)" but like, he needed to protect you somehow. It took a while for you to calm down enough to warm back up to him.

@crispycreep69 @creepy-babes

#not all boys are perfect but jack comes close 😌😌 #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack headcanons #eyeless jack #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #my writing #also i havent written in so long i forgot to do my taglists 😖😖