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#Lance Tucker Fic
georgiapeach30513 · 1 year
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Kinktober 2022, Day 15: Objectification
God of Olympics
Summary:  Lance just wants you to know your place, because you are his.
Pairings:  Lance Tucker X Reader
Rating:  explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, showing you off to an audience, glory hole, gang bang, rough sex, creampie, a bit of a praise kink, 18+ ONLY
Word Count:  1.4K
Previous
Kinktober 2022 Masterlist
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Lance slaps his hand over your tit, making you yelp out, but his smug face just smiles at you.  Stalking around your body, he gives your ass a slap, and leans tight into your body, “Get on your knees.”
“Yes, sir,” you respond quickly.  Blinking at your guests, as you get to your knees.
“Hands behind your head, and keep your legs spread.”
“Yes, sir,” placing your hands behind your head, Lance walks back in front of you, and starts ripping at your clothing, pushing aside your shirt until your tits are exposed to everyone in the room, and a few of the men adjust their pants.  Looking at you like they were going to devour you, but you have behave.  He was counting on you.
Squatting down, he rips off your panties, leaving the majority of your body for their viewing pleasure.  Lance gives your face a few smacks, before grabbing at your cheeks and lifting your head to look at him.  “What are you?”
“A worthless cumdump,” you whimper as his finger rubs along your puffy lips.
“Whose worthless cumdump are you?”
“Yours, sir.”
He slides two fingers past your lips, and runs the appendage over your flattened tongue.  As he slides out, you suck on them gently.  Your eyes shining up at him.  The next push through, he goes all the way to the back of your throat, causing you to gag.  The movement of your body, makes your weeping cunt even more visible to the men, and Tyler Rake leans forward to get a closer look, getting his arm slapped by Jax.  Marshall just grunts out his approval.
“Whose whore mouth is this?”
“Yours, sir.”
He wipes his fingers soaked in your saliva on your face, because slapping at your tits again.  Moving back and forth between your nipples, before he gazes down at you, “Whose tits are these?”
“Yours, sir.”
Traveling down your body, he slaps at your folds, until you squeal out in pleasure.  “And whose pretty hole is this?”
“Yours, sir.”
“And I can do whatever it is that I want with it?” You nod your up at him, and he pushes his fingers back into your mouth.  You suck on them, tasting your tangy arousal, and he gives you a nod.  “I can let whoever I want fuck this worthless, pathetic, whore, cum bucket, can’t I?”
You look over to the men, and suddenly realize why there is an audience, “Yes, sir.  Whatever you want.”
“Get in the fucking box,” his finger points behind you to the glory hole wall, and you start to shake you head no, but he tsks you.  “Babydoll, you said whatever I want.  And I want your body, and your holes to be shared.  You are nothing but a cum dump, but you’re my cum dump.  Don’t you want to be filled to the brim with cum?  Have all these cocks just for you?  I’m giving you a gift.”
“Maybe she can’t handle it,” Jax smirks at you.  “Can you handle three cocks fucking into, and you have no idea whose it is?  Such a needy little cunt, and we’re just willing to help you out.”
“You’ll stay with me?” You look up at Lance, begging him to say with you.
“Of course, Babydoll, now get in the box, and show them how pretty your cunt is spread,” grabbing your hand, he guides you to the box.  Letting you get comfortable on your back, he gives your tits a jiggle, and your spread your legs, hearing all the other men lick their lips as they walk closer.  Hands smooth along your legs, over your sex, even under the hole, grabbing at your tits.  Rolling your soft peaks in between their fingers.
A soft petaly lips kiss up your legs, and a tongue licks up your slit.  The hand on your tit searches for your mouth, before he presses in a thick finger.  “Giving you something to suck on, Babydoll,” Tyler.  You could recognize that voice. The only one with an accent.
Someone’s face presses into your cunt while he kitten licks your clit.  Diving in to suck the pearl into his mouth.  His teeth giving the bean a little nibble, making you whimper, grabbing tightly to Lance.  “They’re only getting started, baby.”
When his fingers push into your cunt, you know right away by the ringed digits that this is Jax, getting his face soaked in your juices.  Laving up your arousal like a decadent dessert.
Crying out when you feel a thumb press into your ass.  It could only Marshall.  Him and Jax work in tandem, fingering both your holes, while Tyler fucks your face with his own fingers.  Jax was relentless.  Every lewd moan, makes him roll your clit in between his teeth.  Curling his fingers, the pads of them stimulate your g spot.  Your body lifts up off the platform, and you moan out Lance’s name.  
Just before you get to cum, they all stop.  Hands back off of you, and you sob at the absence of them.  Two large hands slide down your legs, before placing your body just where he wants it.  “Oh!” You sing as his thick cock breaks the barrier.  No comfort is given to you when he starts jabbing into you.  Grunting out how good you feel.
“Pinch her nipples,” Marshall.  His hands hold you gently, but his cock drives into you with such force you see stars.  Lance pinches down on your nipples, leaning forward a bit to kiss on your sticky skin.  “God, you’re such a fucking whore.  Got you giving up this pussy to whoever wants it.  It feels good though doesn’t it?”
His pace turns into slow methodical thrusts into you.  His tip playfully becoming acquainted with your cervix, and you scratch down your legs.
“Damn, save some for the rest of us.”
“Gotta make her…cum,” at the deep timbre of his voice, your walls clean his around him, and he struggles to pull out.  Letting the next one step up to the plate.
Jax’s ringed fingers come under the hole, and grab harshly at your tits when he pushes into your warmth.  There was a madness to him.  A need for him to get off before you.  Letting you know just how much you were just a fucktoy to them.  
Lance’s hands caress your face, and he gives you a warm smile.  “You’re doing so good my little cum baby.  You love your thick cream cum don’t you?”
“Uh huh,” you moan as Jax slams into you.  “Yeah, right there.”
“Oh, right there, Babydoll?  That feel good, hmm?  My god, she’s fucking adorable.  Willing to let us use these whore holes,” he jams into you one more time, before he’s being yanked away.  
“Time to flip it over, Babydoll,” is the only warning Tyler gives you before he’s turning you to your belly.  kicking your legs to the side before pummeling into you.  Holding onto your hips gruffly, and even Lance backs away.  Your fingers reach towards him, before, he’s pulling his cock out.
Sliding it past your lips, and watching you gag on his length.  Tyler pulls and tugs your body onto him, adding in the few odd slaps to your ass.  Pulling apart your cheeks to see where the two of you connect.  “Fuuck! She’s so sensitive.  So tight, and got me in a vice grip.  Let go, just let go, and I’ll fill you up.  Jax and Marshall are over hear stroking their cocks and getting ready to watch all our cum drip out of this abused whore hole.”
The way they talk to you, ugh, it was sinful, but you loved it.  Lance pulls out, so everyone can hear your labored breathing and pitiful whines.  And the sounds alone were enough to have Tyler’s cum paint the inside of you.  Pulling out, he’s replaced quickly by another cock.  Not shy in using his friends jizz as more lube.  “We like it messy,” Marshall growls, before releasing his own seed.
Followed by Jax’s hard slams into you with a fervent need.
“Gotta hear you scream out my name.  Your husband is going to watch his cum dump dripping.  Uh!” His spunk shoots into your womb, but he just fucks it deeper.  Jax loved overstimulating himself.  Pulling himself out, just so the three can watch your abused hole drip their cum out.  “Push it out,” he says, as Lance walks out to watch as well.  
“Or, I can fuck it back into her, and you guys can watch.  You always gotta finish with your God of Olympics don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Next
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot​ @infatuatedjanes​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe @peaches1958​ @whimsyplaty92​ @rebekahdawkins​ @johndeaconshands​ @thedarkplume​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @sgtjaamesbaarnes​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @km-ffluv @mickeyhenrys @awkwardgiraffe726​ @seitmai @smile1318
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nocturne-pisces · 2 years
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I didn't see him on your masterlist, but a dark!Lance tucker 👀👀👀
mmmmmmm, bestie i’ve been waiting for someone to throw this in my inbox.
Dark!Lance Tucker x Reader
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You gulped in a breath, the edges of your vision returning with your intake of the oxygen you were deprived of.
“If you want gold, you’re gonna have to have more endurance than that, bronze.” Lance held you upright by your hair, his sharp jawline set as his gaze is cast down at you. “I expected better.”
You’d done a full into a step out and it ended sloppy, dropping you from gold to silver, and then an exposed bra strap had dropped you to bronze. They were stupid mistakes, things you’d trained out of yourself- but you woke up this morning feeling off and it had snowballed.
Lance’s blue track pants are pushed down just enough for his saliva slick cock to bob in your face, his office door locked and the blinds dropped. “You’re the best one on the team. You’re the one the other college girls look up to, and this is the example you set for them?”
Your chest still heaving, you try to interject. “Coach, please, it was just a bad day, I-“ Before you can finish your sentence he shoves himself past your lips, tutting above you as you retch. “Olympic Gold Medalists don’t have bad days,” he replies, wrapping his fist around your ponytail to push you further down his length.
“You’re lucky this mouth of yours is so fucking hot, or I’d send you packing back to whatever buttfuck hick town you came from.” He pushes against your head harder, the crown of his cock pressing against the entrance to your esophagus. “But you suck dick like a champ, so I’ll give you another shot.”
He lets go of your hair and you pull back to heave in breath, looking up at him. Lance sneers down at you, his fingers smearing your own saliva across your face making your mascara trail black. He uses the same fingers to trace black against the tattoo on his pelvis. “You show me you can work for the gold, and I’ll let you go back out and practice your routine.”
He doesn’t have to tell you what he means, you already know. You take one last steadying breath before you flatten your tongue and take him down again. You push against the resistance harder and harder until a pop in the back of your throat makes you sputter your victory around him. Your nose brushes against the gold medal tattooed in his skin and his hand comes back down to the back of your head to keep you in place. “See? I knew you could do it, bronze. Just a little determination and some hard work.”
He swipes tears off your cheeks, bringing his fingers to his mouth to taste them before thrusting into your throat. “Mmm, victory never tasted so sweet.”
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Give you hell
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AN: I hope you enjoyed that little Stucky AU yesterday. Today we're taking a left turn down Douche-bag Avenue for an unexpected interaction with Lance Tucker.
I’m using dialogue prompts from this post by @nightprompts and they can be found emboldened in the text.
Kinktober 2022 Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Beta’d by @navybrat817
Dividers by @firefly-graphics, banners and covers by me.
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Pairing: Lance Tucker x Gym Coach Teacher Reader
CW: Hate sex, cum marking, lots of swearing, toxic relationship, ex hook-up Lance, rough sex
Word Count: 1.1k
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“You’re such a fucking bitch, you know that?” 
His finger jabbed at you and you felt your normal ire at his presence mutate into loathing.
“Me? You’re one to talk, Mr ‘Olympic Gold Medal’ Diva.”
You spun away from him and walked towards the locker room, but of course he had to follow you, just to needle you some more.
“Yes, it really gets to you, doesn't it? That I made it big, while you’ve been stuck here teaching peewees how to do a forwards roll.”
“Please,” you threw over your shoulder. “Like I’d be jealous of you. You were an ass then and you’re an ass now.”
He grabbed your wrist, spinning you around and pushing you up against the wall by the locker room door.
He looked you up and down, a glint in his eye and his tongue rubbing over his top lip. Damn him and his handsome face.
“You didn’t always think so…”
His hand trailed down your body, over your breast and you slapped it away.
“Oh, I always thought so, Lance. It’s just I needed to get my kicks somehow.”
His eyes went wide, his ego having trouble comprehending what you were saying. And you could help but tease him.
“Awwww, poor baby. All this time, did you really think that I cared? That I was all goo-goo eyes over you?”
His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as you laid into him. 
“Is that why you came back to visit? Needed to inflate that ego of yours with a trip down memory lane? Sorry to disappoint you. You’re not gonna get any fawning from me. Now get out of my way.”
You shoved him and he stumbled back and you almost laughed out loud at the look of existential crisis on his face. But you turned and pushed your way into the locker room.
You weren’t wholly surprised when you heard the door open again a few seconds later as Lance barged through.
“Fuck off outta my locker room, Lance. In fact, fuck off outta my life.”
This time when he pinned you to the wall, arms above your head, it made your teeth rattle.
“You’re lying,” he sneered. “You want me. You’ve always wanted me.”
You smiled, over-sweetly, back.
“I never said I didn’t want you. I just said I never cared for you.”
“Maybe that’s all I need?”
He kissed you then, all teeth and tongue, and damn it, it made heat flare within you. He was always too good at this. You kissed him back, giving as good as you got. When he slid a hand up your top, groping you over your sports bra, you hooked your leg around his hips, pulling him flush to your core, and started to grind.
Lance broke the kiss to pull your top up, and he wrenched at the zipper of your bra, until your breasts spilled out and he could take one, and then the other into his mouth. He sucked on them hard, before popping off and biting into the soft flesh, making you cry out with desire.
With him distracted you pulled your hands free of his grip and slid them up his t-shirt, scraping your nails down his muscular form, hearing him hiss. When you reached his training sweats, you pushed your hand inside, taking hold of him.
His cock was a familiar weight in your hand and you ran your thumb over his slit, smearing the pearl of pre-cum. He retaliated by slipping his hand down your sweats and into your panties, chuckling against your flesh when he discovered how wet you were.
“Shut up, Lance. Put your money where your mouth is and fuck me then. If you’ve got it in you.”
He growled and let go of you to shove his sweats down. And that’s when you saw it. The infamous tattoo. And you couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled up out of your mouth, even as you clamped your hands over them.
“You shut up!”
He spun you so you were face first against the wall, pulled your sweats down and off one foot, before lifting your leg to open you to him.
He pushed in, harshly and you groaned, hands scrabbling against the cool tiles.
“Oh fuck!”
“Yeah, you like that, huh?”
He thrust hard and fast, just the way you, and your body, remembered. His hand snuck round your front, between you and the wall, and started to rub firm circles on your clit.
“It was always easy to make you cum.”
You let out another bark of laughter.
“I faked it half the time, dickhead.”
He bit down on the juncture of your neck and you cried out, pushing your hips back against his. Whatever this was between you, no matter how toxic, it was currently doing it for you. You were so close and you were determined to cum, even if it did make Lance even more insufferable. 
“Let’s see if you can please me this time. I doubt you’re fucking man enough. Come on, you don’t have to be gentle. I won’t break.”
He doubled down, touching you faster, more firmly, and you smiled internally at how transparent he was.
“That’s it, Lance. Yes, fuck me. Make me cum…”
You cried out, bucking your hips, as your pussy clenched down on Lance’s cock and fireworks went off behind your eyes. You were still gulping in breaths when he roughly pulled out of you, leaving you feeling empty, and put a hand on the back of your neck, holding you against the wall, unable to move.
“Told you, too easy. You were always a slut for this dick.”
You heard the tell-tale sound of him jerking himself off behind you and you wiggled, trying to get free.
“Might as well let everyone know it.  Ah, fuck.”
You felt the wet warmth as he came, his cum splattering over your ass and up your back, onto your uniform top.
“There, pretty as a fucking picture.”
He slapped his hand against your buttock and you squeaked. 
“See you in hell, bitch.” He gave you a sarcastic little wave as he pushed his way through the locker room door. You scowled at his retreating form and shouted back.
“Not if I see you there first. Asshole.”
He flipped you off, over his shoulder, and the door flapped shut.
Despite the exceptionally gross feeling of his cooling spend running down your leg, you smiled to yourself, and wondered how long he would stay away this time.
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Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @sheismarvelousworld @poppunksnowwhite
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Day 18- Handcuffes with Lance Tucker
364 words
18 + only! NO MINOR INTERACT
Kinktober masterlist
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A/N: hey guys, i have to repost all of my 18 days of Kinktober for now. Because my account got suspended last night. Many of you might have read them already, and maybe many more of you might read it for the first time. I'm not someone who asks for reblogs, likes are find by me. But for this one time...i would be very grateful if you could reblog it. To help me go back in the game. I'm sad that i lost all my works. But so grateful i wrote them on Word... Or i would have lost literally months of prepration.
So yeah, Hi again, i'm back, hopping to get back my first account.
Enjoy,
Cloudy
Don't be shy to comment, reblog or like! :)
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TW: kind of dom!mean reader, uses of vibrator
not beta read, english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own
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Oh he was in for a long night of blue balls.
You had one rule, if he was handcuffs with his medals, he couldn’t touch you or move. And the proud man he was, couldn’t imagine break them.
“Come one, sweets, don’t be so mean with me?” he whines dramatically. You’re doing a lap dance, making some pose he taught you years ago. You’re spreading your leg on top of me, letting him see your wet folds, you caress his naked body with yours, nipples teasing his aching cock.
Oh yes, he is for a long night, and you are thrilled. Thrilled, because he was the biggest jerk to you the past few weeks, so you were going to make him suffer.
He’s looking at his handcuffs, growling when he sees you take your favourite vibrator, whimpers when you sit across from him and put the object of all his desire on your clit. You moan, arching your back like he loves. You let him see your pussy clenches and unclenches around nothing, your arousal sipping out of it.
“Let me taste it.” You shake your head, giving him the silence treatment too. He deserves it. He knows it, but fuck his cock hurts him right now. He needs relief.
“Babe, please, touch me. I’m dying”. You shrug and he whines, squirming without making harsh movement on the medals.
You push the fake vibrating cock in your pussy, moaning a bit more than you would do normally, but Lance he’s too fuck out to realise, his cock throbs at it and you smile. You make a show out of it, Lance whining and whimpering at the lack of touch and attention from you, but fuck why does that turn him on more?
When you cum, he moans loudly, loving to see you let go, see that face you do, crossed eyes, cute frown and the noises that come out of you…he could cum only by that. And he almost does, but you’re quick to hold the base of his cock and to ruin his orgasm.
“BABE”.
“Don’t ignore me, Lance, I could do even worse next time.” You kiss him and leave the room.
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taglist :
@navybrat817 @christywantspizza @buckyalpine @iloveprettyboysblog @ethreal-love @nailedbymandy
@captainsimagines @buckybarnesandmarvel @rogersandlightwood @sparkledfirecracker @barneswinterraven @hansensgirl @blades-and-heartbreak @runa-falls @chrisdrysdale
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:
 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌
೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡
summary - being the obsession of six men isn’t so bad.
೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑
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vellicore · 1 month
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The following content is intended for an adult audience only. 18+ only. Minor DNI. Please pay attention to all warnings. Dark elements ahead. You do not have permission to steal or copy my work.
Bucky Barnes
Carter Baizen
Charles Blackwood
God the Bounty Hunter
Lance Tucker
Lee Bodecker
Max Burnett
Mickey Henry
Nick Fowler
Steve Kemp
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foxgloveprincess · 2 months
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader, Lance Tucker x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]
Summary: After your night with Ransom, you’re moving on—really.  
Word Count: 2,818
Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist
Warnings: UnBeta’d, Dark, Stalking, Fear/Paranoia, Unreliable Narrator, Yandere Vibes, BDSM (Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Rope Bondage, Suspension, Aftercare), brief Smut (Vaginal Penetration, Unsatisfying), Pet Names (baby, pidge, etc). Minors do not interact (18+).
A/N: Here’s some more Ransom, being patient as he can be. Let me know what you think!
I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.
I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics. 
Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!
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Breathe. In. Out. Your body relaxes into the cradle of ropes. You catch a glimpse of Chase, his smile shining for his audience. You keep your thoughts on him, too scared to let them drift. 
Though, another eye catches yours from the crowd. Your lips twitch and your teeth worry over them. Hunger, deep and dark, glinting. Pride radiating in waves. The eyes of a man who looks at you as though you’re a pristinely polished trophy. And you’re happy to be that for Lance Tucker. Just for him. God, what you’d let that man do to you. Never imagining the man who might do it better—never. 
You try to blink away thoughts of that rich asshole and let your eyes drift closed. A hand binding your wrists, around your throat. That smug smirk of his as he took you apart piece by piece. 
No. There’s no room for Ransom. He didn’t write you a check, but a week later you’d gotten a direct deposit—more than he’d promised. And you hadn’t heard from him since. Good riddance. 
You find Lance in the crowd again and let his proud smile satisfy you. You don’t need some pompous, entitled, egotistical brat hanging around being a creep. You’re glad Ransom got you out of his system. Really. You are. 
You breathe a moment, centering yourself back in the present. There’s no need to think about Ransom Drysdale. None at all. 
“Are you alright?” Chase asks in a quiet tone. His hand reaches out to steady you, grounding you to the conversation with him. 
“I’m fine,” you reply before assessing the state of your body. “But a little sore? Maybe? I think I might need to come down soonish.” 
“Alright,” Chase says. He turns back to the crowd announcing the end of his presentation, explaining the aftercare and begins to lower the rig. 
Your belly finds the mats, hands still wrapped behind your back. You turn your head and rest it on the cushion while you wait. Chase approaches and kneels by your waist. 
A laugh huffs from your chest when you look up at him. “I could have stayed up longer.” 
Chase quirks a brow. “I’m sure you could have. But I didn’t think you should.” 
You make an accepting sound in your throat and let him do his work. A minute passes before your limbs are all free. Chase wraps the rope from his palm to his elbow, winding it to put away. 
Slowly, you begin to move. First legs, stretching into the air and bending, then arms. When you finally push up from the mat, Chase stands ready to help guide you back to your room. 
“You did good today,” you remark as you both walk down the hallway. “They were eating up every word. Saw a bunch heading toward your photography table.” He smiles at you. “I think they really like the pose, too.” 
The door opens to your room and you find your futon. Chase hands you your snack and drink. 
“What do you think about going vertical next week?” he asks, brushing his fingers over your forehead while you lay comfortably on your bed. 
“As long as I’m not upside down,” you reply with closed eyes and a yawn. 
“I’ll let Lance know you’re ready for him.” Chase leaves you drifting off to sleep to get your boyfriend—the newest addition to your aftercare routine. 
The door opens and you feel the tender touch of Lance’s hand. He leans down to kiss your lips. 
“Hey, baby,” you murmur, half asleep. But when you turn over and open your eyes, no one’s there. You sit up and glance around. 
The door sits in its frame, shut and undisturbed, just like the rest of your room. Must have been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn…
The door opens and Lance struts in. You catch his eye and his smile beams. 
“God, you were fantastic!” he enthuses. Taking his hands from his track pants pockets, he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. They taste of cherry chapstick, how could you have forgotten that—the lips that kissed yours before him didn’t. 
“You waiting up for me?” 
You nod without a word, unsure as to what to say. Part of you wants to mention that moment before he came in. But why would he want to hear about your dream? Instead, you pull back your blanket, inviting him to warm you up. 
“As soon as we get back to your place, I’ll get your epsom salt bath going,” he starts, liking the sound of his own voice as much as you do. It grounds you, especially after a strange encounter with a figment of your imagination. “Gotta make sure you aren’t sore in the morning. Then we can get you in your…”
He keeps talking and it lulls you to sleep. Knowing that when you wake up, he’ll take you back to your place and sleep over. And everything will go like it always does. 
Which is why you’re unsurprised when Saturday morning dawns and Lance has slotted himself between your thighs. 
His hips curve into yours, his cock stretching you wide. Your fingers dig into his spine, clutching him close. Moans spill from your lips. His heavy breaths brush across your cheeks. Sweat beads on his brow as he readjusts you, stretching one of your legs closer to your chest while keeping the other wrapped around his hips. 
Your lips press together. It all feels good—always has. Even when you were finding your groove together, with his athleticism and your need for intimacy. 
He makes noises of pleasure. His hips accelerating in a signal of his imminent release. Your eyes close, focusing on your own. Lance’s hips stutter. He paints your insides with his cum and sighs. 
A sunny smile spreads his lips. How his hair remains coiffed after all the sweat and exertion, you don’t know, but it’s endearing. A quirk you quite adore. 
He flops to the side, running his hand along his abdomen, tickling the tattoo of the gold ribbon he has leading down his pelvis. Another uniquely Lance thing. So proud of his accomplishments, and you don’t blame him. He’s incredible. 
But your pulse thrums with the dissipating arousal of your unsatisfied lust. Your arms reach over your head, stretching sore muscles. Without meaning to, you let your mind wander. How Ransom made you sore in the best way. How he fit inside you. How he made you cum until you ached for nothing but pleasure. 
Your boyfriend’s hand reaches over, smoothing over your tummy and flicking at one of your nipples.
“Where’re you going?” he asks. 
You look over and smile. Eyes trace over his pouty lips and bright blue eyes. You tilt your head and brush your lips to his. 
“I’m right here,” you reply. 
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“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” Harlan asks. He leans back in his chair and you lift your head from your research. 
“The toxicology of plant-based poisons,” you reply, immersed in your work. Though, you know it won’t satisfy your boss. 
He says nothing more for a moment. Letting you turn your full attention back to the research at hand. He probably didn’t need much help in the subject with how long he’s been writing murder mysteries. Still, he always likes to be accurate. As few creative liberties as possible—at least where it counts. 
“Alright,” he says with as little enthusiasm as he can bestow on such an acceptance. “You will tell me eventually, mind.” 
“Will I?” you mumble distractedly. 
“You’re not a very good liar.” 
You snort and turn the page, picking up a highlighter and sticky note to jot down a thought on a passage about cyanide. 
“It isn’t something Walt did, is it?” he prods, the weight of his observant gaze heavy on your shoulders. 
“No, Harlan,” you reply, recapping the pen in your hand. 
“What about Ransom? He gave you some trouble a little while ago.”
You swallow and push aside the embarrassment and panic that spikes through you, replying, “No, Harlan.” 
“Huh,” he says. 
“Shouldn’t you be working?” you ask with a huff of mild frustration. 
“I’m quite stuck on what should happen next,” he says with a flick to the corner of the page. 
“Right,” you drone with the skeptical quirk of your eyebrow sent in his direction. 
He smiles that enigmatic smile of his and reaches up a hand to cup his chin. “You know I’m just concerned.” 
With a sigh, you give up on your work. Your boss won’t let you focus on it anyway. Folding your arms over your chest, you lean back and contemplate how best to word your explanation. One tiny slip and the jig is up. How could you possibly tell him his grandson paid to fuck you better than anyone ever has?
“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you admit, pursing your lips around the word. “Don’t need to tell you all the gory details, though.”
“That’s the best part of a story,” he refutes with a twinkle in his eye. His full attention remains on you, waiting for the final crack before the flood. 
“Let’s just say,” you pause for the right wording. “My boyfriend is amazing, but doesn’t always…” You trail off with a hand gesture to imply the rest.
“You mean in the boudoir?” Harlan twines his fingers and tilts his head in interest. 
You snort and nod. “Yeah.” You lean back in your chair until your eyes meet the ceiling. “Got me thinking about the last prick. He was an asshole, but he...” You trail off, uncertain as to how you might finish the thought.
Harlan looks at you a long while. When your head turns to meet his gaze, he says, “May I offer advice in the form of an old adage?”
You sit upright and nod. “Lay it on me.” Complete with a grabbing motion of your hands. 
“Comparison is the thief of joy.” 
It sits in the air, letting you soak it in. Harlan returns to his manuscript in silence. Yet you’re stuck on the words. He’s right. Ransom is your past—a blip, if anything—and Lance is your future—a real, solid one at that.
You turn back to your research with determination. Refusing to let Ransom occupy a second more of your thoughts. You start back on your note about cyanide. 
“I know that’s not all, by the by,” your boss intones right as your pen meets paper. “But it’s enough for now.”
You swallow and glance over your shoulder to him. “Thanks.” 
Harlan nods with a hum and places his glasses on his nose. 
The sounds of the typewriter fill the empty space of the room and the two of you continue your work. You lose yourself to the facts and let the hours tick by. Thoughts wavering on your future. 
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“Seriously, this tastes like shit.” 
You hear his voice before you see him. Your heart drops to your stomach. All you can think is ‘Oh, God, no.’ Your feet find the final step and you freeze. Unsure of the best course of action. 
You might be able to completely skirt by unnoticed through the front door. Or the back patio. As long as Ransom stays in the kitchen. 
It was coming back inside that posed the problem. Harlan sending you on an errand to the local public library to pick up a book he placed on hold. If Ransom were still here, how could you avoid him without knowing his position in the mansion? 
“It’s a good thing I didn’t make it for you, Hugh,” Fran replies. 
You blink out of your momentary panic. As if Ransom ever stayed so long with his grandfather. He’d be long gone by the time you got back. You scurry out the door, closing it with the softest click.
The breeze bites through the air. It stings your face with its crisp coolness. You wrap your scarf tighter around your neck and bundle your hands deeper into your sleeves. On the threshold of winter, you dread the thought of the first snow. 
You wait a moment for your car to warm before driving down the road to town. Thoughts mull in your mind, but music tunes them out. The radio already blasting holiday songs on repeat, prompting another train of thought to occupy you. Your first holiday not alone. Gifts for Lance. Holiday plans and the small, hopeful feeling warm in your chest.
You find a parking spot at the library and exit your car. The cold wind bustles you inside and you walk to the front counter. Used to your face, the librarians move quickly to check-out Harlan’s book to you. You smile and thank them, and then you’re on your way back, with little time to get your head on straight when thoughts of Ransom resurface. 
Parking the car, you linger a moment in the quickly dissipating heat. The car door slams behind you. A few quick strides take you back up the steps and into the house. You shiver as you undress your outerwear, hanging each piece up on your hook—coat, hat, scarf, mittens. 
You pause to listen. Straining to see if you can hear Ransom’s voice anywhere in the house. Knowing how much he likes to hear himself speak. Nothing. A sigh of relief blows past your lips. 
The stairs creak on your ascent. Marta greets you on her way down, a furrow between her brow. You almost ask her about it, but she slips away in a quick descent. 
You make it to the second landing and stop. He’s standing right there. Staring at a painting on the wall—one you’d admired before, reminiscent of Artemisia Gentileschi. One you pass multiple times a day on your way up to Harlan’s study. One of your favorite pieces in the house, really. 
Wishing to turn invisible just for a moment, you clutch the book close to your chest and close your eyes. With determination, you open them and march past Ransom, ignoring his presence. Yet, in your periphery, his head turns. 
“Oh,” he says—is there a tinge of affection in his tone? He cocks his head to the side and takes a long perusal of your body. His eyes narrow. “Where have you been?” Any question of tenderness vanishes with the question. Replaced by his usual derision.
You hold up the book in explanation. He squints at the cover and his lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. He seems to think better of a comment and looks back to the painting. 
“If you’ll excuse me then, Mr. Drysdale.” 
His jaw ticks in irritation. Eyes flashing toward you, he grits, “Call me Ransom, pidge.” 
You step sideways toward the stairs up to Harlan’s personal study. “Right,” you mutter under your breath. “I just thought—” You shake your head. A buzz in your pocket catches your attention. You pull the screen halfway out to check. The preview of a text from Lance shines up at you. Your lips twitch toward a smile as you tuck it away. “Nevermind.” You make it up two steps before you hear his voice again. 
“Is Lance treating you right?”
You might have thought the question just a figment of your imagination—prone as you are to those. But turning around, he watches you curiously. Your lips part, stunned.
“How did you know about him?” you ask with a glance over your shoulder to the upstairs door, drawn but not closed. Praying that Harlan won’t be privy to this unexpected conversation. 
“Friend of a friend,” Ransom replies with a shrug. But his eyes do not leave yours. It unsettles you, the steadiness of his focus. 
You swallow down your unease. “Why do you care?” you prod. Your face scrunches in an expression of dubiousness. 
Ransom blinks and looks away to the painting again. “I don’t.” The words rasp between his teeth.
“Right,” you mutter under your breath. “Well, Ransom.” Your fingers tap on the book cover. “I, uh, hope you have a nice rest of your day.” 
You retreat up the rest of the stairs and enter Harlan’s study. With a great huff of air releasing your nerves and pent-up frustration, you glance at your boss. A curious expression adorns his features. Your stomach flips, but you ignore it and hand over his book, ready to get back to work. You’re sure he’ll ask his questions later. 
As for you, you’ve got some answered. Like the fantasy of whether Ransom would really be such a horrible option. The answer is yes. No matter how well he fucked you or how he sent you reeling in your throes of passion, he is not the man for you. Of that, you’re now absolutely certain. 
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abbatoirablaze · 8 months
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Princess & Bunny, Chapter 7
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: mentions of being drugged, manipulation, coercion/manipulative sex, unprotected sex/smut, spitroasting, double penetration, knotting/spining, a/b/o sex, filmed noncon sex, morally grey characters.
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The party was raging on around Princess and Ransom.  He’d returned in a sour mood a few hours before it started, growling on about how Harlan wouldn’t just tell him what he wanted to know.  And Princess, feeling neglected, just had to poke the sleeping panther. 
“Just forget about her, Hughie…”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” Ransom growled at the needy omega.  Princess whimpered and his jaw clenched, “I’ve already left Linda a message…when she finally decides to pick up her phone you all are going to have a lot of explaining to do…you all tricked me.  Made me think it was you instead of-“
“Instead of Bunny!” she finished, shooting him a glare, “yeah.  Because Linda couldn’t let Bunny ever be the one who fucked up.  The news killed our father, and she blamed me.  She was always the perfect fucking angel…but you’re mine, Ransom.  Not hers.  You shouldn’t have even been in her roo-“
“SHE’S MY MATE!” the alpha roared, finally losing his composure, “TAKE WHATEVER IT IS YOU THINK I OWE YOU, AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS, PRINCESS.  YOU MANIPULATED ME INTO THINKING THAT KINGSTON WAS OURS.  THAT YOU WERE MY MATE INSTEAD OF BUNNY!  YOU AND LINDA.  I WAS THINKING ABOUT IT THE WHOLE DRIVE BACK HERE!  YOU MADE HER STOP HANGING AROUND ME WHEN YOU TWO STARTED PRESENTING.  YOU MADE IT SO THAT SHE SPENT ALL OF HER TIME WITH MY MOM AND THAT I WAS STUCK WITH YOU!”
“You wanted my attention, Ransom…whether you’re willing to admit it, or not…”she huffed.
“Well, I’ve realized that I wanted the wrong twin all along!” he spat, “now just do me a favor and leave me the hell alone until Linda comes and picks you up!”
“Hey doll, what’s got you lookin’ so sad, huh?” Bucky asked as he watched the needy omega glare at Ransom, “you and big brother having a little fight?”
“We heard you two arguing this afternoon while we were setting up,” Steve frowned sympathetically as he wrapped his arm around her waist, “are you okay?”
“He can be so cruel sometimes!” she whimpered tipsily, looking between the two strong alphas, “it’s always about Bunny…I just want to be good enough for once.”
“Oh sweetheart, you’re perfect,” Pronge offered, walking up to the brothers and her.  She sniffled and he handed her his own red solo cup, taking her empty one off of her, “if he can’t see that, then he’s as dumb an alpha as can be…”
“Yeah…” she sniffled, taking a long, heavy drink from the cup.  She went to hand it back, but Pronge only shook his head.
“Keep it, sweetheart…better yet…I can grab us some more…and we can head up to my room?  You don’t need to be around all this garbage…you just need some alphas that want to pamper you,” he offered, shooting his brothers a wink when she nodded, taking another drink.  Bucky and Steve’s eyes lit up, “we can all sit down and listen to you tell us all about what a mean alpha old Ransom is…how’s that sound, pretty girl?”
“O-Okay…” she sniffled allowing Pronge to lead her up to his room, “you know what the worst thing about it is?”
“What’s that, pretty girl?”
“I gave him my virginity,” she whimpered sadly, “and it’s like it didn’t even matter.”
“What a shame!” Steve added in as they started up the stairs, “that asshole…”
“I know,” she huffed, “I-I just had sex with him not even last week too…I’ve never been spined or anything, so it was new…and my pussy hurt so bad after because nothings ever been in there.”
“You’ve never…played with yourself?” Bucky asked curiously.
She shook her head, whimpering against Pronge’s shoulder, “even in heat…Linda always said that it was wrong so I-I’ve never-“
“Aww, it’s okay, kitten…we’ve got you!”
Steve raised his brow and Pronge shot him another wink, mouthing ‘heat powder.’
Steve smiled, leading her into Pronge’s room.  That’s when he noticed just how she was acting.  She was shifting around like her clothes were too itchy, and a thin line of sweat appeared at her hairline.  She took another few sips of the beer before putting it down on his desk, “is it hot in here to you guys?”
“Probably just you not used to the alcohol…you know what you need to do?”
“Hey-wh-where’s Bucky?”
“Oh he’s just grabbing us some more beer,” Steve smiled, “but you know…Pronge’s right…you’re so new to partying, you’re probably not used to the beer…if you’re feeling hot, you could always take off your dress…”
“Wh-what?” she giggled, “but then I would only be in my underwear…”
“I-I think one of my old girlfriends left one of her skirts and a top…might be more…comfortable…” Pronge offered with a shrug, “that dress looks really uncomfortable…”
She frowned at the suggestion.  She hadn’t thought about just how the fabric felt, but thinking about it, it did seem a little itchy on her skin.
“Y-you wouldn’t mind?”
“Oh, not at all, sweetheart!” Pronge smiled, already reaching for the schoolgirl outfit that he’d had from his various roleplaying outfits that he’d film his exes in, “you know what though…that underwear might be uncomfortable too…might as well just…take that off…”
“Y-yeah…” she said nervously, “I am feeling a little…uncomfortable with them on.  Thanks”
Bucky walked in with fresh beers, not bothering to close the door behind himself.  The men smiled as she took the schoolgirl outfit and began stripping down.  Already, the instant heat powder was working its magic.  Her nipples were pebbled, and the boys could smell her slick. 
Bucky growled and another wave of slick collected at her entrance.  She turned around, the outfit snugly fitting her.  Her breasts could nearly be seen through the thin white material of the shirt, and the skirt barely covered the round globes of her ass.  She bent slightly back to the desk for the cup and the three men growled, seeing her slick sex on display. 
But it was Bucky who had already unzipped and dropped his jeans.  His hardened length stood at attention as he started in behind her.  She yelped, nearly dropping her cup as Bucky’s large, calloused hands ensnared her hips.
“Bu-Bucky…”
“Shhhh…relax, pretty kitten…this dog’s got a bone to bury…deep in your perfectly wet little cunt.”
Another wave of slick poured from her entrance.  Bucky smirked as he lined himself up, the tip of his cock already collecting some of her wetness.
“I-I’ve never-“
“Let us think for you,” Bucky alpha commanded, “just relax and take our cocks like a good little needy omega…”
“O-okay…”
“Steve…you get her mouth…”
“With pleasure,” the blonde smiled, licking his lips.  Princess moaned when Steve appeared in front of her, “get on the bed, sweetheart…Buck and I are going to make you forget all about Drysdale.”
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Princess was a mess. 
She’d been used up by Steve and Bucky, but they weren’t the only ones.
No one had bothered to close the door, and from downstairs, most of the frat brothers could smell the woman in heat; artificial or otherwise. 
So, when the alphas came up and saw her getting spit-roasted by Barnes and Rogers, they started lining up. 
She’d been at the house for nearly a week and was only meeting some of his frat brothers when they decided they were going to have a turn with her. 
Princesses eyes rolled into the back of her head as Curtis’ knot inflated inside of her pussy, his cum painting her walls, just like Barnes’ did before him.  She was panting as she needily rode him, the knot tugging at her entrance. 
Curtis growled, his nails creating crescent moons on her hips, that was sure to create bruises in the morning.
Princess was fucking herself on his knot, taking every ounce of his seed that she could get. 
Meanwhile, the man who had started it all, Pronge, was eagerly allowing his frat brothers to line up, encouraging them all to take a turn with Drysdales’ sister while he filmed it. 
Curtis growled as another alpha stalked over, “Wanna see how much she can handle?”
“Fuck off Storm!”
“Then get out of her pussy,” the playboy smirked, “me and Colin wanna have a go…and either you lay down on the bed and we take her throat and ass, or you clear out…”
He gave another growl but pulled his half-hard cock out of her with a harsh tug, his knot giving a hefty popping noise as he left her cunt a sopping mess, “enjoy sloppy thirds…asshats.”
Johnny didn’t care though. 
“You want her cunt, ass, or mouth?”
“Mouth, all day, baby,” he smirked, “see if she can handle me while my knot hits the back of her throat…”
“Anyone cool with taking her cunt while I take her ass and Colin takes her mouth?”
Another one of their brothers, Lance Tucker stepped forward, “you guys know I’m always up for some gymnastics…”
“Please,” Princess whimpered, her fingers already buried knuckle deep in her pussy as she tried to hit another orgasm.  Her back arched and the three alphas growled, seeing her pussy already fucked raw, her clit swollen and heavy, and her body covered in a thin glossy sheen, “need you alpha…alphas…please…give me your knots…”
“God, I love college,” Johnny smirked, picking Princess up as though she weighed nothing.  Lance  grinned, already stripping down, as he laid on the bed.  Princess whimpered watching as he gave his hardened length a few good pumps, “ready, Tucker?”
“C’mere omega…” he growled seductively.  The omega shivered, and the boys smelled a fresh wave of slick collecting at her entrance, mixing with her two previous partners’ cum, “gonna show you who the god of this pussy is now…”
Johnny helped place her on him, impaling her with his cock.  The omega panther moaned, throwing her head back as she felt herself being filled by his length, “Alpha…”
“Ready for another cock, baby?”
Princess nodded eagerly as Colin kneeled on the bed, his length almost out of her reach.  She whimpered, opening her mouth, “Please alpha…need…need it all...”
She yelped, shooting up when she felt Johnny behind her, his cock tapping against her ass.  But it was Lance who growled, pulling her back down onto his length, hard and fast.  She nearly howled out, half in pleasure half in pain from being slammed down on his cock. 
Colin took advantage of her mouth being opened, and grabbed her by the hair, only to fill the open hole with his own cock.  She nearly choked as he bucked hard into her mouth, not bothering with any foreplay. As she caught her breath, Johnny wasted no time in collecting some of the slick from her thighs and spreading it over the head of his cock. 
And without warning, he slammed into her, stretching her virginal rosebud around his own girthy length. 
“Oh, fuck, omega,” Johnny growled as he seated himself in her ass.  He bucked his hips gently, sending her forward on Colin’s length.  He slapped her ass and Lance growled again as he pulled her back towards Johnny and himself, “we’re gonna have fun with you alright.”
Everything hurt. 
Her jaw felt sore. 
Her pussy felt raw.
Her ass felt like it was torn in two.
And her head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it. 
Princess whimpered as the light trailed in through the window.  As she raised her arm to try to block out some of the light, she realized that the pain extended to her joints as well.  Opening her eyes, she noticed the bruises on her hips and arms. 
But worst of all, she felt an unbearable pain in her neck.  Her fingers reached up, and her mouth opened in a horrified gasp.
She’d had a brand new mating mark in place of the one that she’d gotten removed.
And worst of all, she didn’t remember who she’d gotten it from.
Chapter 8
Tag List:  @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @prokey16, @magnificentsaladllama
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rubynationwins · 2 years
Text
👁👄👁
✍🏻
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basicrese · 2 years
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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year
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Rumplestiltskin, Epilogue
Summary:  ...a few years later
Pairings:  Andy Barber X Walter X Chase Collins, Lance Tucker X Branwen Barber
Rating:  🥺🥺
Warnings:  a bit of gaslighting and manipulation, sad!Andy, 18+ ONLY
Word Count:  1.2K
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Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​
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“Walter, how long has it been?” Andy tiredly asks the horse as they wander around the forest. Every day. All day. Nothing ever changes and he didn’t feel as if he was getting any closer. The forest seemed oddly bigger than he recalled.
“It feels as if it’s been hundreds of years with you,” the horse deadpans, and stops abruptly in the woods. Andy lets out an annoyed groan, “He’s coming,” Walter whispers. The horse backs the two of them up, while he and Andy wait with bated breath for Chase to make his monthly visit.
Chase dramatically lands in a crouch, and stands up slowly looking at Andy, “Care to guess?”
“Go over your rules again, trickster.”
“I don’t get anything past you anymore, old man. Should you give me my brother’s name that he told your precious queen, you get your family back. Should you give me his birth name, this all becomes a dream, and you have your baby back in your arms..”
“And I walk around on two legs again,” Walter blows out a puff of air, letting his hoof pound the ground.
“Yes, of course. How long has it been Andy? Your daughter won’t even remember you, would she?” Andy’s nostrils flare as he glares at the faerie. “Oh, that’s right, ten years. No doubt you’ve heard the rumblings in the forest.”
“You sack of shit! You’ve cursed the entire forest for what reason? So your baby brother could have a fantasy with my wife and child. They’ll never belong to him.”
“Hmm, doesn’t matter to me. I thrive and feed off of chaos. Your mistake has made these woods even more interesting. Had you had kept that tree standing, there never would have been the green apples. You did that Andy. Now you rush to the edge of the forest and hope some maiden won’t enter. They always do. The creatures in these woods are too enticing. Prey on the world outside without lifting a finger. Their very essence beckons those weak women in,” Chase throws his head back with a maniacal laugh. His eyes now as black as the feathers on his back and the heart in his chest.
“Bernard.”
“Wrong.”
“Steven.”
“Very wrong.”
“Theodore.”
“Oh, not close at all. Two more guesses, and I’ll see you in a month.”
Walter snorts, wiggling his back. Andy didn’t know any direction to go with these names. Didn’t have a clue what to say. It was always wrong. “Tick tock goes the clock.”
“Azriel.”
“One more guess, King Andrew.”
“Lancelot.”
Chase’s eye twitches for half a second, but then that devil turns his mouth up into an evil grin. “I’ll see you in a month.”
“Ahh!” Andy screams, letting his head collapse on Walter’s neck. “Keep going.”
“Andy, maybe it’s time…”
“Keep going. You’re under this curse until she gets her happily ever after. This is her fate and it was always destined to happen this way, which is why you’re still a horse,” a raven caws in this distance, and Walter backs up a moment.
Looking where the bird had come from, but it was already gone, and he was definitely dreaming.
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Lance stands over your body, using a cloth to clean you. A new fresh vase of roses beside your bed. His thumb traces over the features on your face, and he wonders if this was even worth it. He had you, but only in part. You were just a memory now. And he’d forgotten the sound of your voice. Or the way you never hesitated to touch him or show him kindness.
A black raven lands on the window, trying to get Lance’s attention, and he looks over at her, “Come on, princess. Come see your mother,” a ten-year-old Branwen transforms back into a little girl, and she straightens out her dress, walking over to you.
She was getting so big. Changing nearly daily. She gets next to you and leans over, pressing a kiss onto your forehead, before sitting on the bed beside you, “Have you drank your apple juice today,” she turns and scowls at Lance, and he throws his hands up in surrender.
“Let me see your eyes,” with a quick caress on your hand, she goes to sit in his lap, while he examines her golden eyes, “Still the same.”
“Why do you make me drink that juice everyday?”
“Because, princess. The apple is what gives you your power. I’m afraid that should you eat the golden apple, you’d…”
“Be like you and Chase?” Lance nods his head, but his eyes move back over to you. “I saw him today,” she grimaces as she looks up at him, “I’m sorry. He was guessing.”
“I told you to avoid that man,” he looks back at her. His eyes flit around her face as he tries to figure out what she knows.
“Chase went to him first. He wanted to know your name. What’s he looking for,” Lance holds up his hand pointing at you, “Why does he want my mother? Can he fix her?”
“No, let’s not worry about that.”
“But I want her, Papa. It’s not fair that I don’t have her awake. What can we do to wake her?”
“Only one thing, my beautiful little raven,” Branwen sighs, assuming that Lance will never tell her, “True love’s kiss.”
“Then it’s my dad?”
“I suppose.”
“So I need to find him. And he can wake her up, and we can live happily ever after?” She smiles up at Lance. Her cheeks dent in with her dimples. “What does he look like?”
“We shouldn’t worry about that. Should your dad want to find your mom, here she is. And if you, her, and your father live happily ever after, where does that leave me? Have I not been good to you? I make sure you have time with her.”
“It’s not the same. That…that child in the forest. She has seven dads. Why can’t I find mine? Would one of them be mine? Can I ask them? Papa, I want my mama,” she pouts up at him while her eyes fill with tears. “It isn’t fair. Princess Orla has all these dads and her mom, and I have neither. And she said her mother is having another.”
“Am I not enough?” She shakes her head, before laying down on Lance’s chest. Her fingers wipe away the tears that just won’t stop, and Lance has to look up at the ceiling.
It wasn’t fair what he was doing. But he couldn’t lose his little raven. The thought of showing up at the tower with you gone, just didn’t feel right. So instead he fights the need to reunite your family. “Orla said her father is Beck. He’s a doctor. Can I bring him here to my mother? Maybe there’s another way.”
“Shh, you need rest. You’ve been flying all over the forest, and you're such a small Raven. But a beautiful and fierce one, my darling Branwen. Go to sleep, child. We’ll go home in the morning.”
Branwen doesn’t want to close her eyes, but when Lance starts singing to her softly, her eyes become heavier, before she drifts asleep on his heart. He looks down at his wings at the bottom feathers turn white, “I won’t give her back,” he says to himself, as the white feathers drift to the floor.
“I can’t. She makes me feel normal again,” he knows this back and forth game he was playing with his soul couldn’t be good. Gain his humanity back, only for him to prove he was in fact a cruel faerie. But he had raised Branwen. She was his daughter now. And Andy could search the forest for a hundred years, and he would never give you back. You and her belonged to him.
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @peaches1958​ @whimsyplaty92​ @xcaptain-winterx​ @bambamwolf87​ @lavender-annd-lilac​ @thedarkplume​ @duuhrayliegh​ @rebekahdawkins​ @johndeaconshands​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @feyfantome​ @athena-penrose​ @smile1318​ @royalwritersoftheuniverses​ @andydrysdalerogers​
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jobean12-blog · 6 months
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Hey Jo! I'm trying to find this fic and was wondering if you knew it? 😅
It's a Lance Tucker x reader fic which is set at Christmas and is a multi part (4 or 5 parts I believe) where Lance misses his flight to I think LA or Miami and spends the Christmas time with the reader? It was super angsty and fluffy and was called something like "All I Want For Christmas Is You" I think?
I cannot find it for the life of me lol
Hi love! Hope you're having a good day! <3
So this is a Lance fic I do not know unfortunately! I'm sorry! But I will ask around to see if anyone can help! Sounds super cute! Love Lance hehe
Good luck finding it! Hugs and love! ❤️
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w0nderw0man-reading · 2 years
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Looking for a pairing or character?
search through my recs by the tags below
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buckysburdens · 2 months
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18+ ONLY. minors dni.
i write my fics with curvy/plus sized readers in mind, but obviously anyone of any shape and size is welcome to read - i aim to keep them as open as possible.
each post has its own individual warnings. they are not exhaustive, but please read them.
moodboards. library. ao3.
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bucky barnes fics
lee bodecker fics
steve kemp fics
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andy barber
all i want - (smut, fluff)
waiting - (dark, angst)
august walker
baby, all night - (smut)
good for you - (smut)
charles blackwood
pretty thing - (dark)
darling, it’s cold outside - (smut, fluff)
geralt of rivia
sit me on your throne - (smut)
lance tucker
untitled drabble - (smut)
max burnett
and i don’t wanna leave - (smut, angst, fluff)
your forever is all that i need - (smut, angst, fluff)
mickey henry
have i known you twenty seconds, or twenty years? - (fluff, smut)
nick fowler
taking care - (angst, smut, dark, fluff)
steve rogers
working overtime - (smut, fluff)
stucky x reader / steve x reader x bucky
fawn - (dark, smut)
go your own way - (angst)
it’s nice to have a friend - (angst, fluff)
such a tease - (smut, fluff)
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still to come:
god the bounty hunter
walter marshall
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞
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welcome to the land of fairytales, where desires you never knew you had will come true. thank you @georgiapeach30513 & @royalsweetteaa for helping me with this.
18+ only please, do not copy, repost or translate my work. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
!warning! these fics will include inter-species relations, size differences, innocent kink, age gaps and dark content.
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬:
𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 - pairing: prince ransom drysdale x princess reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 - pairing: prince frank adler x mermaid reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 - pairing: street rat lloyd hansen x princess reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 - pairing: prince lance tucker x maid reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔 - pairing: beast ari levinson, beast logan howlett, beast geralt of rivia x princess reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏 - pairing: bossy clark kent, sleazy johnny storm, dirty curtis everett, brawny steve rogers, cranky bucky barnes, tipsy dean winchester, horny sam wilson x witch/princess reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒃𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒆 - pairing: hunter lee bodecker x shifter reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 - pairing: mad hatter jefferson x dreamer reader 
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒆 - pairing: scarecrow jake wyler, tin-man rick grimes, cowardly lion jake jensen, oz andy barber x lost reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 - pairing: hansel steve kemp, male gretel nick fowler x witch reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 - pairing: big bad wolf luke danes x little red riding hood reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 - pairing: tarzan tangerine x jane reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 - pairing: giant august walker x female jack reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 - pairing: captain hook negan, captain hook jack sparrow x tinkerbell reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 - pairing: alpha bear ari levinson, alpha bear henry cavill, alpha bear lee bodecker x goldilocks reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏 - pairing: prince steve rogers x princess/swan hybrid reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒐𝒉, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒃 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔… 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒔 - pairing: mermaid jennifer check, mermaid rosalie hale, mermaid jane smith x clueless reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 - pairing: mufasa ari levinson x scar sergei kravinoff (kraven the hunter) x lioness reader
೫˚🕊️❀ *ૢ🍄೫˚🎀
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vellicore · 9 months
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ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴘᴜʙʟɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ-ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀᴘᴘ. ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴇᴇꜱ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀᴏ3 , ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ.
ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ'ꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʏ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴠɪᴅᴇᴅ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴀɴʏ ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ *
18+ ONLY
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Drabbles & More
Different Sebastian Stan Characters and Their Favorite Place to Have Sex*
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