#also this is in no way shading Sam he is wonderful and taking me out to lunch and spending the day with me and I love him

[dotster001]

For Tuna

Summary:Grim does some interviews to find the perfect sugar dad for him you gn!reader x all boys in one way or another.

A/N:I haven't unpacked my tag list yet, so hopefully this is everyone!

Part Two Part Three choose your ending...

"Grim, we can't afford the bougie tuna. Put it back."

You'd missed it before when you were loading your basket at Sam's shop, but Grim had snuck in the expensive tuna. Now you were at the counter, trying to hide your embarrassment as you told Grim to put it back. Sam gave you a sympathetic smile, but still. You didn't need to add his pity to your plate of worries.

"Prefect, don't worry about it. I can take care of it."

You jumped. You hadn't realized Ruggie had lined up behind you with his own basket full of stuff.

"Yeah! Let Ruggie-"

"I couldn't do that, Ruggie, but thanks for the offer."

Ruggie grinned, "oh please, it's on Leona. He said I could get whatever I want as long as I come back with his energy drinks."

You made an unconvinced face, and Ruggie gave a playful wink.

"Trust me, your tuna won't even make a dent in his wallet. I could pay for your entire load, and still be able to pay off my student loans. In fact," he slapped down Leona's wallet, "Sam, add Y/N's groceries to mine, I'll take care of it."

Before you could protest further, Sam was ringing you both up.

And then Grim got an idea. A terribly, wonderful, awful idea.

"There, all settled. Plus now you can afford to fix your windows this month, or…." He looked at the cash in your hand, "well you can fix one window at least. And don't feel too bad for Leona. Eat the rich and what not," Ruggie patted your back comfortingly then left with his groceries.

"C'mon Grimmy, let's go," you said with a heavy sigh.

"Actually, I have something to do, Henchhuman. You go on home, I'll see ya later."

"Okay, but if you need me…."

"I'll be okay! Geeze you get so anxious without the great Grim. It's embarrassing."

You rolled your eyes and left. You would be so proud of him once he had finished though. He was excited already.

Heartslaybul Dorm….

"Mr. Rosehearts. Thank you for meeting with me."

Grim primly took out his pen and began to scribble on a clipboard.

"I didn't meet with you. You barged into my office," Riddle said, his arms crossed along his chest.

"I think you will find this meeting beneficial. It pertains to Y/N L/N."

Riddle relaxed a little, and raised a single curious eyebrow.

"You see, It has come to my attention, that Y/N and I do not have the funds to live comfortably. In fact, Y/N is practically starving to death! It has also come to my attention that you harbor some feelings for the prefect, and are in possession of a great deal of funds. Now," Grim dramatically looked up at Riddle, who's face was a shade of dark red. "How do you intend to provide for Y/N?"

Riddle opened his mouth, and Grim prepared himself for the worst, but…

"Wait, Y/N's on the market?!?!!"

Grim turned over his shoulder just in time to see Cater run in, tea tray in hand.

"He's only taking applications from rich people."

"Not a concern, housewarden!" Cater cleared his throat. "Hi, I'm Cater Diamond, and my dad is a banker."

"Oh!" Grim made a note on his paper. Riddle stood up abruptly.

"You only talk to your family on holidays, I wouldn't call that a solid source of income-"

"Yes but I'm a people pleaser, so I'll probably follow in his footsteps. So I will also have a banker's salary."

Riddle turned to Grim in a panic.

"I'm going to be a doctor!"

"Oh!" Scribble scribble.

"Oh please!" Cater rolled his eyes before conspiratorially leaning into Grim. "We both know Riddle. He'll work long shifts, day in and day out, and he'll never come home. Meaning poor Y/N will be trapped in a lonely loveless marriage. Meanwhile, I'll work my nine to five, and be home in time to gift you tuna, and keep Y/N warm at night."

"You think Grim cares about that?" Riddle shoved Cater out of the way. "I'll make time for Y/N. Plus my salary will provide double the tuna for you."

"What's all the yelling about?" Trey entered the room, followed by Ace and Deuce.

"Don't look at them, those three are poor as fuck. I mean a baker? Blech, disgusting," Cater apologetically smiled at Trey. "No offense."

"What?" Trey said, feeling more confused than he ever had been.

Grim clicked his pen closed.

"Thank you for your time. I have more interviews to conduct, but I will be in contact if you get through to the second round."

He scampered out of the room as Riddle and Cater nodded after him.

Savannaclaw Dorm….

Grim sat at the foot of Leona's bed as he tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"How can I provide for Y/N, huh? You mean the little demonstration Ruggie gave this morning wasn't enough?"

Grim tapped the pen impatiently against the clipboard.

"Mr. Kingscholar, it is important that you participate fully, or I will remove you from the list entirely."

Leona groaned.

"I receive a….certain amount of, shall we say, an allowance."

"And how much can I expect from that? I have a lot of people to interview. Please don't waste my time."

Leona looked over at Ruggie, who was folding laundry, then gestured Grim closer, before whispering a number into his ear.

Grim gasped, then hastily scribbled something onto his clipboard.

"We will be in contact with you when the second round of interviews begins." Grim stood up and hopped off the bed.

"Ruggie," Leona snapped, "Ensure my future relative makes it out of here safely. Let no one stop you."

Ruggie nodded in understanding as he escorted a proud looking Grim out.

Once they were halfway through the dorm, Ruggie began to speak.

"Leona has promised me a job with an excellent salary once I graduate. Just sayin."

"Won't he just take back the job if he finds out you're competing with him?"

Ruggie rolled his eyes, "Nevermind."

Jack left his room, and noticed the two of them, and began to walk towards them.

"Jack will make you get a job if you pick him," Ruggie whispered hastily. Grim hissed and sprinted the rest of the way out of the dorm.

"What's wrong with Grim?" Jack asked.

"Shi hi hi who knows?"

As Grim made his way to his second location, he was picked up by the scruff of his neck.

"Hey! What's the big idea?!?!?"

"Aw little sealie you're so cute!"

Grim stiffened.

"Fu fu fu," Jade laughed next to him. "our boss would like to have a word with you."

Grim gulped.

Octavinelle Dorm….

"Thank you for agreeing to see me," Azul said smugly.

"I didn't. Your scary twins picked me up and dragged me here."

"You see," Azul pushed his glasses up his nose, expertly ignoring Grim, "We got word that you were interviewing potential candidates for Y/N's future husband. I prepared some charts for you."

Azul pulled out several charts. Grim understood exactly zero of them. But he nodded thoughtfully and pretended to make a note on his clipboard.

"As you can see, my income is projected to continually go up until retirement. Plus my assets will continue to be of value, and my investments will be bringing in money for many years to come. I can safely say, money is no object. Plus, I am an excellent cook. You will never have to eat poor person's tuna ever again."

Grim made a real note this time just as the twins roughly turned his chair around.

"Now that Azul has had his turn, we would like to give our pitch," Jade said with an eerie grin. 

"You see, our parents run a certain…. organization," Floyd and Jade shared a grin before turning to Grim again. "Jade and I are the sole inheritors of this empire when they pass. Just keep that in mind."

"Also, people who oppose this organization have a tendency to, shall we say, disappear."

Grim shivered as he made a skull and crossbones picture on his clipboard.

"Awesome. Great. I'll be taking Grim now…."

"Sea Snake!" Floyd shouted, wrapping his arms around Jamil, who had silently snuck into the room. 

"Let go," Jamil hissed, wriggling away from Floyd. "Give me the cat."

"Aw, but we were playing with him…."

"It's alright Floyd. I think the three of us have made our point quite clear," Jade hummed, before the octotrio shared a laugh.

Jamil rolled his eyes before carefully picking up Grim.

Scarabia Dorm….

"Look, Kalim isn't going to brag for himself so I thought I'd bring you here and remind you that this entire dorm was funded by his family. And he will be inheriting said funds."

Grim nodded and made a note.

"What about you? I mean, I already know you aren't getting picked cause, well, " Grim pointedly looked him up and down. "But the other broke losers have tried to participate."

Jamil leaned down and gave a dark smile.

"I don't need money to win over Y/N," eyes flashing red as he spoke.

"Monsieur Fuzzball!" 

Grim and Jamil both groaned. It only took two seconds for him to be scooped up by the hunter.

"Non, non, do not struggle. I only wish to prove myself as a proper caretaker!"

Pomefiore Dorm…

Grim had never been so pampered, well fed, and relaxed in his entire life. Rook had provided snacks galore, given Grim the full on spa treatment, brushed out his fur, and was now massaging his sore kitty back.

"Monsieur Fuzzball, doesn't this feel wonderful?"

Grim nodded as Rook continued his massage.

"Just think, you could have this everyday!"

Grim groaned happily as Rook hit a tough knot.

Suddenly, Rook's voice was directly in his ear.

"All you have to do is give me the Trickster."

In that moment, Grim knew he would sell you for this life without a second thought.

But before he could do that…

"For heaven's sake I told you to find Epel, not this rodent!"

Rook immediately stopped the massage, to turn to his Queen.

"Roi du poison! I was simply-"

"Spare me," Vil snapped, before handing a struggling Epel over to Rook. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small card, gracefully handing it to Grim between two fingers. 

"I believe you are aware of my financial situation, but should you have questions, you can reach my manager on that card."

Then he left the room with a flourish, and the lingering scent of apple blossoms.

"You know I am willing to share the trickster with you," Rook whispered to Vil in the hallway.

"Ew," Epel groaned.

"As if I'd ever share," Vil smirked.

Outside the Ignihyde Dorm…

Ortho stood next to the tablet, holding Grin up so he could see what it said.

"So as  you can see from my bank account," Idia's voice said from the tablet, "Money is not and never will be an issue."

"It all looks good," Grim muttered as he made a note, "but I have to say it's a red flag that you couldn't come here in person…"

"Hey! Big brother is just busy with his experiment!"

"Yeah, exactly, thank you Ortho, for being the only one who appreciates genius. In fact this conversation is over. If he doesn't get it, then that's his loss. Ditch the noob, Ortho!" And the tablet floated back into the dorm.

Ortho gently set Grim down. "Look, big brother gets nervous around the prefect, that's all. But I think they'd make a great couple."

He gently patted Grim's head, then floated back in. Grim sighed, made a note about how Idia was a package deal, then continued to the final dorm.

Diasomnia Dorm…

"Small kitten, I am to be king of a country. Not only that, but I have spent centuries curating my hoard. Our nest will be always warm, and my perfect child of man will want for nothing," Malleus finished with a smug grin, as he leaned back in his throne. Then he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Now you three can make your offers, or whatever."

"Me next! Me next!" Lilia said, cradling Grim like a baby. "I'm not as young as I look, and am on the best of terms with the queen and future king. I also have a great fortune built up! Kay, who's next?"

Silver timidly raised his hand.

"I just want to say, what about what Y/N wants? What if Y/N doesn't like any of us? What if Y/N doesn't even want to get married in the end? Or maybe they'll be just as happy with or without money?"

There was a long pause. Then…

"Silver's father is loaded and will do anything to see his children married and happy!"

"Fa-Lilia!" Silver hid his face in his hands in embarrassment.

"Same with Sebek. And his dad's a dentist!"

For once Sebek had nothing to say.

"Excellent, this looks very promising for you four," Grim nodded scribbling his final notes, "Now to-"

"GRIM!" 

Uh oh. He turned around and saw you storming in.

"Child of man!"

"Save it Mal Mal! I'm here for my rat," You scooped up Grim, placing him under your arm as you left the room.

"When will we hear about the second round of interviews?" Lilia giggled.

You answered by flipping them the middle finger without looking back.

The Hallway….

"What the hell, Grim? I'm not for sale!"

"I'm not selling you! I'm just trying to get you provided for!"

"Please! This is about tuna and you know it!"

"Who even told you?"

"Jack called me about an-"

"Ah! Prefect!" 

You and Grim groaned as you heard Crowley call to you both.

"Yes, headmage?" You asked through gritted teeth. You turned and saw Crewel was with him….wearing a bigger coat than normal.

"That coat looks so soft," Grim muttered.

"Yeah," you whispered back. "Wait, headmage, what do you need?"

"I heard your current allowance is no longer sufficient," he gently traced your jawline, settling below your chin, tapping up against it thoughtfully. "How does a little extra sound?"

You nodded dumbly.

"Good good, I'm too generous, I know," he hummed and walked off.

Before Crewel followed him, he smirked and patted the top of your head.  

"Good pup."

He stalked off. You stood frozen for a moment. Grim smirked up at you.

"You know, they look like they…."

"You keep that thought to yourself, Grim."

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #dire crowley x reader #divus crewel x reader

[macfrog]

grilled cowboy like me chapter three

part iii of dbf!joel! parts i here and ii here. ask, dear readers, and you shall receive. i do just wanna also add a massive thank you to you guys for all the love on this series. every single like, reblog, reply, etc. means the world to me. i hope you enjoy this next chapter 💚 reader got joel quaking !!! 🥵

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel knows he shouldn't be looking at you the way he is, but you look so pretty on your knees; how can he say no?

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (m receiving), praise kink, jealous/protective joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.6k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter. You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize – That’s exactly what you want him to do.

You spend a few more minutes up in your room before you follow Joel out the door and downstairs. You’re a little flustered, okay? Your dad’s best friend just had you literally wrapped around his fingers, and now you both gotta head off to a friendly neighborhood barbecue you’re supposed to be hosting. All smiles. All, Anyone need a refill? All, No, I haven’t just totally been fooling around with Joel Miller.

The house is empty and voices feed in from the backyard. You push aside the shades and step out onto the bright patio, where a few of your neighbors are sitting. Joel stands between Hank and Rita’s chairs, and you amble over to his side.

You sense his body tensing as soon as you reach him, your shoulder brushing off of his deliberately.

“Hello, my girl,” Rita calls, taking one of your wrists in her frail hands. “I sure am glad to see you back on home turf.”

You smile a little awkwardly, placing a hand on top of hers. “It’s nice to see you, too. How’ve you been?”

“Still livin’, honey, still livin’.”

She lets go of you when Hank takes her up in conversation, and your attention turns back to Joel.

“Busy, huh? Lotta people came.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, taking a step away from you and folding his arms. You eyes skim across the new distance between you both, noting it.

“Joel, your Sarah,” Rita swivels to face him, “she’s home soon, right?”

Joel nods. “The seventeenth.”

Hank gives a nod. “It’ll be a fine summer havin’ both you girls back home.”

Joel shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting around the patio. He spots Bill across the pool, by your dad’s work shed, and excuses himself. You track him as he makes off, and feel your face reddening.

Your dad’s head and shoulders materialize through the sliding door to the kitchen and he calls on you, beckoning you in. You hesitantly wander over, a cloud of shame forming over your head that you hope he can’t see.

“Bill’s beer,” he adds a Coors to a tray filled with glasses and bottles, “Marcia’s iced tea, a Coke for Sam…Joel– Shoot, we ain’t got Joel anythin’. Reckon he’ll touch Coors?”

You flinch at the mention of his name, and instantly try to recover it. “I wouldn’t know, why would I know that?”

Your dad’s hands lift like you’ve aimed a shotgun at him. “Alright, cranky, jeez. Go back to bed, get out the right side this time. Here.”

He lifts the tray and slowly passes it over the island to you, the glass trembling.

“…you remember, now? Bill – beer, Marcia – iced tea, Sam–”

“– Coke, yeah, I got it. Go take a Xanax, dad, your hair’s fallin’ out.”

“And ask Joel what he’s after!” he calls as you slip out of the sliding door.

Marcia sits beside her daughter, Lisa, on the pool loungers. You bend your knees and lower the tray for her to reach her drink.

“Thank you, honey.” She grins gratefully as she lifts it off the shaking tray and you return her smile, then continue on.

Bill is stood at the other end of the garden with Joel, arms crossed, both listening to some story Arthur Kennedy’s telling about a mechanic he works with. Arthur Kennedy always kinda scared you, was always loud and drunk. Your dad and Joel used to deliberately come up with excuses to keep you and Sarah away from him at parties.

This time is no different. You approach the group of men from Joel’s right side, dipping behind his back to stand between him and Bill, safely separated from the raving storyteller.

“He says he’d just oiled it, I said, Benny, that engine’s drier ‘n a nun’s nasty!”

He erupts into a roar of laughter despite the silence of his companions, and you nudge the tray against Bill’s arm.

“Oh, darlin’,” he says, turning to you and giving you an affectionate smile as he lifts the beer. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

You smile back. Bill can be gruff, a bit of a loner, but he’s always had a soft spot for you.

“How you doin’?” he asks, taking a swig.

You nod. “Good. Back workin’ at Sal’s, so…living the dream.”

You can feel Arthur’s stare on you like the hot sun. You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, tray tucked under your elbow against your hip.

“I’ll bet,” Bill says. “He got you workin’ hard?”

“Not really. It’s a pretty quiet store. Uh, Dad wanted me to ask,” you turn to Joel, whose eyes are glued to the ground, “what you’re drinkin’?”

He shakes his head, palm hooked around the back of his neck. “I’ll get my own. Thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon Joelie,” Arthur taunts. You try to avoid looking him in the eye out of fear he’ll take you up on it, but he does it anyways. “Why don’t you just let this pretty little waitress of ours bring you a drink? Since she’s bein’ so sweet ‘n offerin’.”

Your eyes flit to Joel. His jaw is tense, his eyes dark as he stares down Arthur.

“You know what,” he says through his teeth, “I’ll take a Bud. C’mon, you’ll know where they are, right?”

“Wh– We didn’t get any–”

“Be in the fridge, I’ll bet.” He takes your arm and pulls you away from the duo, who resume conversation as you leave.

You’re hauled back into the kitchen so fast that you almost drop Sam’s soda.

“Joel, be careful!”

He lets go of your arm and watches Arthur from the kitchen window. “Scumbag,” he mutters.

“Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?” you ask, throwing the tray onto the counter. “Didn’t we have a whole argument in the store about me not gettin’ Bud?”

“Just had to get you away from him, talkin’ like that. Guy pisses me off,” Joel huffs.

“Who pisses you off?” your dad calls, appearing from the bathroom.

Joel shoots him a look. “Arthur Kennedy. What’s he doin’ here?”

“I couldn’t not invite him; I know he’s a dirtball. You stay away from him.” He points a finger at you.

“Very good,” Joel replies. “Great plan. Make it her problem to keep the pervert off her tail.”

“Pervert?” You scoff.

“You don’t hear him at Frank’s!” Joel rounds on you now, and you raise your eyebrows. “That waitress line wasn’t even half of it.”

Your dad chuckles, patting Joel’s shoulder as he passes. “I’ll keep an eye on it.” He wanders out to the patio.

Joel’s still full of rage. You watch him, not sure whether to move closer or let him calm down on his own.

“I think you’re probably overreacting a little. It was a creepy line, and I won’t be goin’ near him anyways, but it’s fine. I can dodge Arthur Kennedy.”

“Shouldn’t need to. Shouldn’t be put in that position.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of the kitchen counter, palms pressed flat to the surface, shoulders hunched, breathing deep. He looks like a wild bear, like he could rip Arthur Kennedy limb from limb if only he’d just stroll through the sliding door.

You decide to give him some time to cool off.

“I gotta get this Coke to Sam. You good?”

“I’ll be fine,” he snaps, and you take that as your cue to dip.

When you reappear into the sunlight, a pair of hands clamp down on your shoulders, making you jump.

“Hey, stranger!”

“Sam!” you cry, clutching your chest. “You almost gave me a damn heart attack. Here, idiot.”

You hand him the soda, and he tilts it in your direction, a thank-you in the form of a toast.

“I’ve been meaning to drop by Frank’s since I got home, come pay you a visit.”

“I’ll get you a drink on the house when you do.” Sam smiles, blonde fringe gleaming in the sun.

“So, how’s it going?” you ask.

“It’s…going.” He laughs. “Was just talking to Hank about college courses. Figured I might apply. This bartending life is not for me.”

“Do it. Come be a graduate with me. I got a degree, forty grand of debt, and absolutely no prospects!”

Sam laughs. “Nah, you got a brain, you’re gonna work somethin’ out.”

You both take seats by the pool to catch up. Sam’s a nice guy; he was in your circle of friends at school, and, like Anna, always stayed in Austin while you and the rest up and left.

Your dad always thought he had a thing for you, being that he was male and you two were close, and your dad’s an old-fashioned man who doesn’t believe any good can come from two people of opposite genders being friends. But Sam’s a sweet guy, and his being here pushes Joel’s sudden change in behavior a little further back in your mind.

“I’m working later on, so I’m only staying for an hour or so. My mom says hi, by the way.”

“Hi right back. Is she doing okay?”

“Fine! She’s fine. As fine as she can be, I think. Y’know, my dad leaving wasn’t too great. She took it pretty hard. But we’re settled into the new place, she’s doing good. Do you…Did you scratch yourself, or somethin’?”

He points underneath your hair to the side of your neck and your fingers run across the skin, wincing a little over a particular spot under your jaw. A memory flashes before your eyes as the sensitive skin tingles and your eyes instantly lock on the culprit: emerging from the kitchen door, beer in hand, dark eyes scanning the garden for you.

When you lock eyes, he makes a passive expression and wanders off in the opposite direction.

“Uh– No, that’s weird. Well, I had a nap earlier. I might have scratched myself in my sleep, y’know?”

Sam narrows his eyes. He’s twenty-three, dumbass, he’s not an idiot.

You smile sweetly at him and scrape together some reason to excuse yourself, dashing off to the bathroom to examine Joel’s handiwork.

It’s only a little red, probably more noticeable in the sunlight, but still, you grab some concealer and dab it over the mark. Feeling exhausted from running around and pretty pissed off with Joel, you march back outside and throw yourself into a chair beside Hank.

“Your dad knows how to cook a burger,” he tells you, holding a napkin to his mouth. “Delicious.”

“I’ll grab one in a bit. Not really hungry.”

You spend a little time chatting with Hank and Rita, answering their questions about college, telling anecdotes about work, asking about Anna’s makeup business.

“That girl,” Hank shakes his head, “there ain’t no tellin’ her. I’m just her ol’ uptight dad.”

All the while you periodically glance up, across the pool to Joel, and each time, he’s staring right back.

When you get up to grab some food, his eyes follow you. When Sam pulls you in for a hug to say goodbye, he’s watching. When Arthur stumbles over to sit across from Hank, Joel’s figure appears like an apparition at the side of him. Across the table, an appropriate distance away, but keeping an eye on you.

It fills you with equal parts thrill and frustration.

You find yourself laughing extra hard at Bill’s comments, leaning your head on Marcia’s shoulder, leaping to your feet anytime Hank wants a refill, or Rita asks you to light her cigarette. All to get to Joel. All so he has to watch you be unbothered by him for the entire night.

The garden is darker, porch light attracting moths and flies, but a small group of your neighbors sits congregated under blankets on the patio still. You’re talking about New York with Lisa when you notice Joel lean in to your dad across the table.

“I’m gonna head, early start tomorrow,” he says, getting up from his seat.

“You remember your gas tank, Joel,” your dad tells him, nodding over to the grilling station.

“Hey.” You feel a nudge on your shoulder and look up to find his brown eyes looking down into yours. “Give me a hand, would ya? Loadin’ this into the truck.”

“You got it out just fine on your own.”

He calls you by name, and you know from his stern expression he’s serious.

You stand, shaking the blanket from your shoulders, and follow him over to the barbecue. He detaches the tank and picks it up. You wrap your fingers around the handle beside Joel’s, but when the two of you waddle out the back gate, you can feel he has most of the weight.

You reach his truck, shrouded in darkness from the dusk. He hands you the keys from his back pocket and you drop the tailgate, then Joel hoists the tank up by himself and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“What’d you even need me for?”

“Been weird today. Wanted to check you were alright.”

“Are you fucking serious?” You groan. “Are you talking to me or not?”

“Of course I’m talkin’ to ya.”

“Then stop being an asshole, okay? I’m bored of asshole Joel. I want my Joel back.”

He looks at you almost solemnly.

“Look, if you don’t wanna talk about what happened upstairs, we don’t have to, but–”

“’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Then what is it?”

The floodlight over the garage switches on and your back gate clicks open. Your dad ushers Rita out, coat draped over her shoulders.

“Just walkin’ Rita home,” your dad calls.

“See ya, hon!”

You wave. “Bye, Rita.”

When you turn back, Joel’s making his way toward the truck door.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” you mutter under your breath, and silently storm back into the house.

You hear his truck pull away as you throw yourself down onto your bed. Fucking livid.

Alright, you agreed nothing happened. But then Joel went and started acting like something totally happened. If anyone had caught on to the way he was acting, they’d for sure know something was up.

The anger rolls around in your stomach; his avoiding you, the way he kicked off when Arthur made that comment, the way his eyes followed you around the garden afterward.

And worst of all, you fucking liked it. You liked him protecting you, didn’t you? You liked the way he couldn’t help himself, had to make sure you were out of reach of any danger. You liked peering over Sam’s shoulder to find his gaze frozen on you.

You sit up, hands either side of your hips on your mattress. You look down and notice what they’re resting on.

Joel’s flannel shirt.

You’re halfway out the door, shirt in your fist, before you even have time to breathe. You run into your dad in the driveway.

“Woah, woah, where we off to?”

“Joel forgot his shirt.”

“I’m sure he can do without it for a few days, kiddo.”

“I’ll just take it back to ‘im,” you call, hopping in your car before he has time to protest.

You’re at Joel’s in five minutes.

Knocking and waiting for him to answer might ruin the argumentative vibe you’re trying to set, so you fling his front door open and walk straight into his hallway.

The house sits in complete darkness, save for a small light flooding in from the room at the end of the hall. You wander up to it and find Joel sat at his kitchen table, staring down at some contract papers on the wood. Aside from the dull light over his head, the kitchen is dark, orange tinge on the walls from the streetlights outside.

He doesn’t flinch when your shoe scuffs his tile floor. Instead, he just flips the papers back over and sighs.

“Subtlety not in your nature, is it, kid?”

“You left this.” You throw the shirt onto the table.

His eyes scan over it. “Thought I told you to keep it.”

“Oh,” you sit down opposite him, “my mistake. I thought you meant keep it until you’d had your way with me. Thought once you’d dumped me I was to hand the flannel back.”

“Dumped you?” He raises his eyebrows, sitting back in his chair. “Hm.”

“Hm?”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to dump you. I didn’t mean for you to feel…dumped.”

“The most you talked to me all afternoon was to give me a grilling about Arthur Kennedy. All you did was stare at me, then ask me to help you carry a gas tank at the very end of the night.”

He scratches his beard, considering what you’re saying.

“I mean, I thought we agreed to act like it didn’t happen,” you continue, “I thought we were fine.”

“Fine? You think what we did was fine?”

You struggle to find words to reply. Sure, it was better than fine. And at the same time, it was a terrible idea.

“We…We were…We were just messing around.”

Joel almost laughs. “Messin’ around.”

“Yeah,” you protest. “I liked it, you looked like you liked it. What’s wrong with it?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it. If we do this, if we’re ‘messin’ around’…what makes me any different to…to Arthur Kennedy? Hm? Just another creep on the street, hangin’ around and flirtin’ with girls far too young for ‘im?”

“The difference is I actually want you to do it, Joel.”

His expression drops. He stands up, shoving the chair back, and wanders off toward the kitchen counter.

You twist around to watch him. “I want this. And I’m twenty-three fucking years old, I can decide for myself. Arthur is, like, sixty years old, anyway. And he ain’t even a good sixty – he’s all grey, wrinkly skin, greasy hair like he doesn’t know how to work his own shower–”

“Alright, kid, we’re digressin’ here.” Joel waves his hand.

You snap back to reality and shake your head to clear it of Arthur Kennedy’s leathery skin. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s just not a good idea.”

“What’s not?” You stand.

“This. Us. You ‘n me.”

“And did you decide this before or after you fucked around with me in my bedroom?”

Joel sighs, shaking his head and turning away. He places one hand on his hip, the other to the bridge of his nose.

“I mean…” You throw your arms up, finally at breaking point. “What are you doing to me?”

Your tone forces him to turn back. When your expression matches it, he approaches you, gently cupping your face in both hands.

“I’m tryin’ to rein this in a little, baby. I’m tryna be the responsible one here. You know how hard it is not to give in to this? To you?”

You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter.

You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize –

That’s exactly what you want him to do.

Your head falls limp in his grasp. “Then, stop trying.”

Joel’s eyes trace over your face; down the bridge of your nose, across your lips, over to where your jaw meets his rough hands. He’s tossing the thought of it over in his head like a penny. Only there’s no right answer.

Heads, you call it off, and lose any chance of ever knowing what this is between you guys. Tails, you fall down the rabbit hole; secret, clandestine, forbidden rabbit hole, and risk losing…well, everything.

Is it worth that risk? Just to feel him on you again? To feel his lips across yours, hungry, demanding, his hips grinding into you, his hands all over you, the way he looks at you as you cum for him…

Suddenly, like the realization hits him at the exact same time as it does you, Joel’s eyes darken.

Yeah. It’s fucking worth it.

His grip becomes rough, shifting from your jaw to around your throat. He pulls you toward him, lips connecting, and your hands press against his chest.

His grasp drops, squeezing your hips, before one hand leaves to settle between your legs. He just can’t get enough, can he?

“Uh-uh,” you mumble against his mouth, “you had your taste earlier. It’s my turn.”

You push him back against the counter. He’s staring at you with nothing but lust behind his eyes. Without a word, you sink down, knees hitting the cold tile.

“Baby…” Joel hums when your hands find his belt buckle. You smirk at his voice; you’re too good to be true to him. Like he can’t believe what’s about to happen.

You undo his belt and pull it through the loops, letting it fall to the floor with a clink. Then your fingers undo his jeans, almost tearing them apart by the zipper with your eagerness to see him.

As you pull the denim over his hips, you feel his hand softly rest on the crown of your head. A quick glance up tells you he’s watching every single thing you’re doing, lapping it up like it’s the last thing he’ll ever see.

You can see the bulge through his boxers; it’s big. Bigger than you imagined, even with your hand stuffed down your panties.

You place a gentle kiss to his thigh and pull the waistband of his underwear down, and his cock springs free. You gasp a little at the size of it, feeling your mouth watering at the sight of precum on his tip.

Your hands wrap around it, clutching his girth. You pump him a few times in your hands and he tips his head back, mouth agape. His free hand grips the counter, steadying himself.

His tip oozes more precum and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently. Joel groans, audibly. The most audible you’ve heard him yet. It drives you insane.

You push your lips down his shaft, his cock filling up your mouth to your throat before you even reach the bottom. You push down as far as your throat will allow before releasing him with a pop, saliva mixed with Joel all over your lips.

“Good girl,” he’s mumbling, eyes still screwed shut, hand still knotting in your hair.

You drag your tongue along the underside of his dick, closing your eyes. All you can think is Joel, all you can taste, smell, and breathe is him. Completely dumb for this man, cock stretching your mouth so good.

When you take him in down to your throat again, he begins moving his hips; fucking your mouth. You steady yourself, hands on his upper thighs, and let him, trying not to lower your hand to your cunt to relieve the ache quickly growing there.

The sounds he’s making are enough to make you cum by themselves. He’s panting, moaning, breathing your name, groaning whenever your cheeks hollow and you suck until he’s so close he pulls you off.

“Wanna take my time, baby. You’re doing so good.”

You pull him back into your mouth. He tastes like sweat and salt and Joel. He tastes perfect.

When he bumps the back of your throat and you gag a little, you notice Joel’s head snap down to check on you. His grip on your hair loosens, and you softly gaze back at him, eyes blown with lust, to let him know you’re okay.

You drag your lips off of his head, a string of saliva still linking your mouth to his reddened tip. You’re panting now, half-turned on, half-tired from accommodating the size of him between your jaw.

Your palms wrap around his length again, pumping and twisting slowly while your tongue flicks over his head. He grits his teeth, both hands now against the countertop, knuckles whitening the longer you go on.

When you let go of him and dip your head down to take his whole cock in your throat, he lets out a deep groan.

“Keep goin’, baby, keep doin’ that,” he’s groaning, your head bobbing up and down. “Don’t fuckin’ stop.”

His hand falls to the back of your head and he applies a little pressure, fucking into you again.

When you begin to feel him jerk, you lean back, hands helping him to his high as you hold his head to your bottom lip.

Joel’s hand never leaves your head as his cock twitches, filling your throat and coating your tongue in warm, salty cum. He’s calling your name, breath heaving and hips shuddering.

His length slides out of your mouth. When his orgasm subsides, he watches you lick your lips and swallow his load, before tucking his softening dick under his boxers and pulling his jeans back up.

You watch in a distant haze of ecstasy as Joel does his pants up himself and takes your chin in his hand.

Breathing heavy, you look up at him, eyes hooded. Waiting for permission to stand.

“C’mere,” he whispers, and your tired legs hoist you back up to height.

He envelops you in his arms, placing a kiss to your forehead and letting you lean into his chest.

You let your eyes fall closed as you breathe each other in.

“So good to me,” Joel mumbles against your forehead, and you lazily smile.

You could let him carry you up to his bed and fall asleep right then and there, you think. That is, until you hear your phone vibrating on the table.

“Fuck,” you groan, and Joel releases you from his grasp.

“Just makin’ sure you ain’t dead,” your dad chirps down the line.

“I’m still at Joel’s,” you reply, “just leavin’.”

“Don’t you be keepin’ him, you hear?”

You pretend not to, and get him off the phone as quickly as possible. When you turn back around, Joel’s stood with a smirk on his face.

“Go on. Don’t want to make him suspicious.”

You skip over and place a kiss to his lips, and he runs a hand through your hair.

“Like I said, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Just messing around,” he says.

----------

As you approach the front door, you pause for a second and compose yourself. Glance in the window to check your reflection, take a deep breath. The last thing you need right now is your dad noticing something’s different.

He’s sitting in the recliner watching baseball highlights when you stumble in. He doesn’t turn to look at you as you dive straight for the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

“Hey there. Joel get his precious shirt back?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Just couldn’t be bothered with it lying around my room.”

He hums absentmindedly. You stand by the kitchen island chugging the water, avoiding conversation with him and looking for an excuse to dismiss yourself to bed.

“Hey,” he says after a bit, “did you find the burgers too…salty?”

You choke on your drink. “The– Too– What?”

“The burgers. Not sure if I over-seasoned ‘em. Were they salty?”

“No. They were fine. They were fine.”

Dizzy with adrenaline, you feign sleepiness and bid him goodnight. When you reach your room and collapse onto your bed, your phone buzzes.

Your eyes scan over the text; your heart skips and you feel a flutter just south of your belly button.

Joel: You free Sunday?

----------

tag list: @yvonneeeee @brittmb115 @subconsciouscollapse (let me know if u wanna be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal #cowboy like me

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: Three Is Company

Frodo calling it “Our Birthday” is making me feel things. Oh would you look at the time, it’s Crying About Bilbo and Frodo O’Clock again TT~TT

It’s honestly such a mood that Frodo says to himself “I’m following Bilbo!” so he doesn’t have to think about “I’m carrying a thing of great evil into danger and unseen ends”. Me too, Frodo. Me too.

“And see that Sam Gamgee does not talk. If he does, I really shall turn him into a toad.” 🤣

“Bilbo went to find a treasure, there and back again; but I go to lose one, and not return, as far as I can see.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—

Also “and not to return” is so heartbreaking, especially knowing that by the time he gets to Mordor Frodo is fully expecting to die at the end of his journey TT^TT

“It may be your task to find the Cracks of Doom.” JUST DROP THAT FORESHADOWING RIGHT THERE LIKE IT’S NOTHING, HUH, TOLKIEN??

Also teehee crack

Yes I am a twelve year old boy on the inside, moving on

The local shade towards the Sackville-Bagginses is HYSTERICAL

“Ah yes Merry is looking out for a house for me in Buckland.” INSTANCE #2 OF MERRY BEING ORGANIZATIONALLY GOATED

I’m honestly very impressed by how neatly Tolkien crafted Frodo’s backstory and interwove it into the story. The idea that he’s going back to Buckland where he grew up really does seem credible! None of the hobbits would suspect a thing! I almost have to wonder which came first in Tolkien’s mind, Frodo’s backstory or the fact that he’d need a good excuse to go East. It’s so well-crafted and it makes my writer brain happy.

F in the chat for Folco Boffin; we know your name and nothing else about you

Frodo draining the last of the wine like “lol at least the Sackville-Bagginses won’t get THIS!” is very funny to me

I have said it before, I’ll say it again, Frodo looking in the mirror and going “geez I’ve gotten fat” will NEVER NOT BE FUNNY

“Frodo did not offer [Lobelia] any tea.” I hereby name you Frodo Sassville-Baggins.

Aww, the Gaffer agreed to Sam going to Crickhollow to work for Frodo!

If only he knew just how far he was really going

“…though it did not console him for the prospect of having Lobelia as a neighbour.” o7 for the Gaffer, everybody

And they had tea by themselves and left the dishes for Lobelia 🤣 FRODO SASSVILLE-BAGGINS

“‘Coming, sir!’ came the answer from far within, followed soon by Sam himself, wiping his mouth. He had been saying farewell to the beer-barrel in the cellar.” LOL

Also I can’t blame him, knowing what he’s walking into

“He waved his hand, then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE—

Frodo, whining: "My bag is so heavy" Sam, lying: "I could carry more, sir!" Pippin: "Oh no you don't, let him suffer"

Honestly the dynamic of this trio is super underrated LOL

I'm honestly not sure whether "well, we all like walking in the dark" is meant to be sarcastic or genuine—the way it's repeated later on makes me think it's genuine, but I can't be sure—so just to be safe I'm bringing the Frodo Sassville-Baggins score up to 2.5

I'm taking the time to read the walking bits slowly now, and honestly, the way Tolkien describes the countryside of the Shire is so beautiful. I want to go there, and I want to walk there, and I want to see what the hobbits are seeing. Every little piece of nature and topography elicits an emotion; from the enclosed safety of Hobbiton, cradled in its cozy little valley, to the great fir tree standing guard over the hobbits as they sleep, to the road winding endlessly on before them, promising still more work and beautiful scenery and adventures to come. Is this slow reading? Yes. But I love it so much.

Frodo wakes up and the first thing he does is grumble to himself about his back and neck. He really is an old man. I love him.

Honestly this entire scene is comedy gold

Frodo: "Wake up, hobbits! It's a beautiful morning." Pippin, a literal teenager: "What's so beautiful about it?" ROFLOL

Pippin, literally out in the middle of nowhere: "Sam, draw a bath!"

And for that, Frodo steals his blankets and makes him roll over. Frodo Sassville-Baggins score: 3.5

Pippin: "Water! Where's the water?" Frodo: "I don't keep water in my pockets!" SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 4.5

And then he makes Pippin come get the water with him, since he wants it so badly. I love Exasperated Older Sibling Frodo and I wish we got to see so much more of it.

Pippin, after Frodo randomly bursts into poetry: "Wow, was that Bilbo's poetry, or yours? It's kind of a downer."

I'm so glad they kept the "it's dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door" line in the movies, because it really is so good.

Sam's canonically good hearing returns!

Frodo suggesting they prank Gandalf for being late is honestly so cute lol

Twice in this chapter we get the eucatastrophe of Frodo just barely not putting on the Ring, right at the last second. The first time, the Black Rider just walks off on his own, and the second time the Elves show up and scare him off. I will praise Frodo's virtues 'till Spring turns into Winter, but I think this is clear evidence right from the beginning that Frodo was not, and could not, be saved from the temptation of the Ring by any virtue of his own. He is saved; he does not save himself. All of which is honestly very Christian of Tolkien.

Pippin, to Frodo: "All right, keep your secrets!"

I love the walking song. I might do a revised recording of it, if you guys will tolerate my singing voice again X-D

Can we just acknowledge how bad*ss it is that Frodo sneaks up and spies on a Black Rider, just out of curiosity?? Like, I know this is more a feat of stupidity than it is of courage, but given everything we know about them by the end of the book, that is honestly WICKED cool.

Sam, having to be dragged back by his arms: "ELVES! ELVES!"

GILDOR!!

GILDOR MY UNDERRATED BESTIE

I can't wait to draw Gildor. He's gonna be so PRETTY

"But we have no need of other company, and hobbits are so dull" is so funny tho

The Elves, with all the love in their hearts: "You can't sit with us, you're boring!"

FINROD MY MAN

I have not read the Silmarillion, but I know enough about it to know that Finrod is the G.O.A.T.

The Elves: "You're being followed by Black Riders?? Okay you're coming with us now"

Frodo speaking the High-elven tongue like a NERD

I love him

And Gildor immediately like "LOL y'all watch your language, the babies can understand us!" I love him dearly

....Okay wait I have a thought about the hobbits walking with the elves until they nearly fall asleep on their feet. A thought about soldiers and Tolkien's experience in war. Wait. I'm gonna have to make a post about this.

Eyyyy it's the Turin constellation!

Something about the Elven hall did indeed become a core memory for young Lady Glasses. I spent quite a few years building a fantasy world that would capture that sense of mysticism and wonder. Just like Sam and Pippin, I never really remembered the details, but the emotion stuck with me, and it enchanted my imagination.

The Elves bringing out a Thanksgiving feast and saying "sorry we don't have better food" is like going over to your friend's immaculately cleaned house and them saying "sorry for the mess"

Frodo speaking the Elves' language and charming them all is so cute

Sam falling asleep at Frodo's feet as he talks to Gildor is SO CUTE

“At last Frodo asked the question that was nearest to his heart: ‘Tell me, Gildor, have ever you seen Bilbo since he left us?’” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT—

"My faithful Sam" UGH THE FEELS

Gildor: "But it is said: 'Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.'" Frodo: "And it is also said, 'Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.'" HAHAHA GETTIM FRODO

SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 5.5

Gildor saying "you don't need to understand the Black Riders, just stay away from them" is honestly very Christian of Tolkien too. The best spiritual warfare advice I've ever heard is "don't try to understand demons; just get as close to your Protector".

Anyway Gildor complimenting Frodo is very cute and that is all

#chapter review #frodo baggins #gandalf #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #samwise gamgee #peregrin took #pippin #gildor #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing

[whore-for-chris-evans]

A Word-Portrait of Steve Rogers

[Warnings: Bit of angst, fluff, reader is a simp (like me), Steve is a literal Adonis, feelings that reader hasn't confessed...and oh! Swearing

Steve Rogers x gn!reader]

How can someone be built so fucking perfectly? Like, there are handsome men around the world, and there's this beautiful masterpiece of a man.

You're not sure if anyone quite catches the difference between the two. When you call a man handsome, he's easy on the eyes. But when you call a man beautiful, it means there's an other-worldly aura to his attractiveness.

Like Steve Rogers does.

He is six feet away from you right now, oblivious to your wonder-filled gaze. You are incapable of taking your eyes off him. He has all five of your senses captured; every nerve of your body is currently relaying information only about him. You watch him like a hawk, unknowingly taking note of every little line in his face, the slight dimples when he flashes that lop-sided smile, every twitch of his lips, every tap of his fingers against the hard cover of the book he's reading, every time he licks his lips after taking a sip of his morning coffee.

When he smiles at one of Sam's jokes, it seems as though someone finally drew the curtains out of the way of light, because the room is definitely brighter now. When he talks, his voice, to your ears, is the closest, humanly comprehensible representation of what heaven sounds like. When sunlight falls on him, it appears as though he were crafted out of the same yellow rays that light up the earth in the daytime.

For a moment, he seems divine. Ethereal. Other-worldly. You're positive he'll have wings growing out of his shoulders any moment now.

A bit of golden hair falls in his face, and as he brushes it out of there, you notice his eyes (for the millionth time). They're the most wonderful shade of blue, a shade perhaps destined to remain forever unreplicated. They're the color of an ocean you've seen only in the dreams you can no longer recall. There are tiny flecks of green in them as well, somehow adding a touch of believability. They're filled with a certain sharpness too - a glint that could easily be molded into commanding professionalism, a calm threat, effective persuasion (he is a master at that), alluring sex appeal or simply playful, yet witty humor - depending on what the situation called for.

Those very eyes flick to you every once in a while, but your cognitive thinking is too preoccupied to warn your body that you're running dangerously out of breath. Though, you would gladly die if you were allowed to leave in the same state that you are in now.

His arms are formidably well-built (like the rest of him) and impossibly powerful, but radiating warmth and comfort (if only you were ever lucky enough to feel that). His hands, being those of an artist (a remarkable one at that), are perfectly shaped; however, you've also seen the way they operate in battle, the enormous strength that they hold. Despite that, you just know that his hands could be just as caring, as tender, as gentle as dew on a petal. His nails are always neatly trimmed, adding to the perfection.

He carries himself with a hard-to-achieve blend of confidence and humility, which, in the end, melts into heavenly grace that surrounds his form.

But,

You have seen beyond the surface.

You have watched the confusion and panic on his face morph into hardened resignation upon taking in the new world. You have watched his composure fall apart, you have seen his façade crack. You have found him silently screaming at night, his mind trapped in its own web of painful memories he aches to forget, even in his sleep. You have held his hands as he has poured his feelings out to you - all the loss, desperation, helplessness and anguish. You have wiped his tears, patted his back, stroked his hair (his mother used to do it, and now that he has found out you have the same habit, he keeps finding excuses to get you to do it because it's a strange source of homely, familiar comfort in a time and space far away from his own). You have sat beside his head, singing him into a peaceful, dreamless slumber when falling asleep on his own has proved too impossible.

Which is why you know.

He isn't a god. He's still a human. He really is the same kind of creature as you (boy, aren't you lucky?)

But damn, if he isn't the best fucking specimen of the species you've ever seen.

[Edit (19.01.2023): I just realised I didn't have a taglist for this so here we go, please don't mind this showing up on your dash again

@slut-for-chrisevans @nana1000night @royalwriteroftheuniverse @sarahrogersevans @hawkeyes-queen @peace-love-fanfiction @almosttoopizza @nekoannie-chan @imyourbratzdoll @jamneuromain]

[Edit 2: @mainly-marvel not sure if you've read this so...]

#steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #this came to me because of an edit of him #excuse the mess above please #this is more of a rant than anything else #Spotify #sapphire rogers

[blindswandive]

Belatedly: Bones, bones, bones

With Masquerade on the way again (OMG OMG OMG IT'S BACK IT'S BACK) I thought to check and see just how far behind I am at sharing previous rounds of porn and bangs and it turns out I am The Fuck Behind.

So here is something I am quite proud of that was a gift for @monicawoe at Christmas in... 2020. o_o At some point I'll maybe add more blood dripping and, y'know, shading, but I'm awfully proud of all the pointy bones as it is.

For process and headcanons check below <3

Process/headcanons/ideas on the throne (C&P'd from commenting on LiveJournal in 2020): Okay SO. The throne. I remembered Monica's prompts here and in AntiXmas about Sam meeting other Sams and also the throne of Hell shaping itself for the new king. The longer I worked on the bones, the more I thought about the sizes of the bones and judged them against Sam and whether some would be a little big even for him, or would be small as from a child or teen, and the more I thought about the source of the bones. I wrote a non-con porn this summer which I know wouldn't be up Moni's alley, but the pre-porn part had Dean in hell cataloguing all the time he'd spent with his own removed bones (before Sam shows up and they just. Take over. <3 ). So I thought maybe part of taking the throne would be building the throne - either the throne builds itself from the tribute pieces brought by the prospective King or a silent thronemaker does as the pieces arrive, and you won't know it's done until it decides it's done. There are about thirteen bodies here, and I thought either: 1) these are various Sams either from different eras or different worlds, possibly including young Sams, who the BoyKing has had to take apart (not sure if it's Sams that exist out in life or Sams produced by Hell) as part of the process of his Becoming and the throne's Becoming, or 2) because Hell puts you back together post destruction, he's taken the bones piece by piece out of his own body. Or some of each. (He or Dean or the thronemaker can shape the bones as needed, as with the fibulae becoming sharpened spikes.) Of course building it from the bones of non-Sams conquered would work too but I kinda loved the self-version. Making his power from his own self and his own sacrifice, and in a way that's appropriately destructive and terrible and torturous for, well, Hell.

All that of course would mean the throw he's on is also leather from his skin, dyed with his blood, as is the cushion (stuffed with hair??). Whether that's his own blood he's drinking, too, or what he's taken in tribute from demon minions, his brother, or demons he's destroyed, I'm not sure.

I feel like the yellow stones in the goblet that match his eyes are important to all this too. Perhaps the throne or thronemaker can turn eyes into precious stones?

Basically, if I weren't already braindead and late, there'd have been at least a ficlet for this. 

(Fun fact: All the bones are modeled on real human bones and I know which each piece of the throne is.  Also, there are approximately thirteen skeletons represented here, though not all pieces are used from each and some have been carved and shaped.)

More process:  When I got Moni's signup asking for no porn, I panicked.  Naturally there is a ton of id overlap and clearly I am happy to make non-porn, but I initially pulled one giant blank; my sense of identity of self as porn-creator is apparently stronger than I realized.  But Sam drinking demon blood is one of my favorite ever things and plenty pornographic, so I got really excited about that.  

It wound up leaving me rushing to finish all of the bones last minute (okay last several hours) but I did my posing and likeness from scratch, without tracing, the modeling program I usually use, reference photos, etc.  Well--not entirely true, I was partway into the pose and the wonderful @amber sent me a great reference from the Sims of a guy lounging on a chair one leg up that was super useful for finishing out posing him.  I got very kind and encouraging betas from both amberdreams and @quickreaver who held my hand and helped with the panic that kept flaring up.  Turns out when you're already indecisive, this year and a free hand makes decisions, uh, impossible? ^_^; So their patience and encouragement I was on the right track was huge.

Digital format meant I was very lucky and could mirror while I was working on the throne, copy chunks, layer in ways that made erasing conflicting lines easier, etc.  I love the tablet so much, y'all, I can't even say.

What else... ah, we'll call that enough for now.

Feedback is love! <3

#lovemelovemypraisekink #supernatural #boyking!sam #bones #lots of bones #why do I love bones so much

[latibvles]

LET ME DOWN EASY.

right so today @almost-a-class-act brought up Hoosier in a band and naturally any sandbox Sam creates I also must partake in. So now we have uhh *reading off of hand* Chucker/Runner/Sid/Hoosier rock band, reporter Vicki, and some mentions of music Snob Bob Leckie. And also some implied SidSledge. Vicki/Hoos Meet-Cute except it's more like Meet-Embarassment. Read it all under the cut! also I was listening to uh , this , while I was writing this .

She managed to grab Lew… or rather, Chuckler, for a quote before they got in the studio, and she got Runner in between takes. In sharp contrast, Sid didn’t have much to say — the bassist was quiet and polite, a southern drawl and dusted cheeks, shy smile. Chuckler and Runner liked to talk, but whereas the frontman expressed a sort of… unabashed gratitude, the drummer seemed to have a joke for anything and everything.

The guitarist comes in about thirty minutes after the other guys start messing around on the drums and the strings, throwing suggestions in the air for lyrics and the like while Sid scribbles in a notebook. Vicki finds a spot on a stool, notepad in hand, jotting bullet points down for later use. She didn’t want photos yet, not until all four of them were present. 

The guitarist is squinty-eyed and messy-haired, she can’t tell if it’s intentional or if he just rolled out of bed. He’s gripping a water bottle like someone might try and steal it from him otherwise. He’s got a white t-shirt on, faded jeans, and a pair of beat up trainers. She wonders if that furrowed brow is out of irritation or if it’s just his face.

“Well look who decided to show up,” Chuckler greets, with one of those big grins of his and a light fondness to his voice.

“Go to hell.” he grunts. Grumpy, then.

“Rough night, princess?” Or hungover. Probably both. She looks over at Runner, and then at Chuckler, who’s looking at her with a smile that’s bordering on apologetic.

Bob’s article had been bordering on scathing, but then again it’s Bob, who could give a sermon on his Feelies records without so much as stopping for air. Of course, their last album still did great, and Bob was definitely an outlier over matters of opinion — even if some of his criticisms were fair. I critique music, not sales, he justified, when the album went gold.

The grumpy one follows Chuckler’s gaze, landing on her on her corner-stool.

“You’re not Lucky.”

“Nothing gets past you, cobber.”

There’s a snort, probably from Runner, that he pays no mind too. He walks over, sticking out a hand for her to shake. She takes it.

“Bill Smith.” She watches his gaze move up and down her, examining but not otherwise suggestive. At least, not yet.

“Vicki Graves, Fusion Magazine.”

“Lucky’s friend then, I’m guessin’?” Vicki looks back over at Chuckler, who nods, and then she mimics it, reverting her gaze back to Bill as she releases his hand.

“Something like that. Does he make a habit of showing up thirty minutes late? It’s for the article.” She spares Bill another momentary glance, as the tips of his ears turn red, and Chuckler just laughs.

“I think the man can speak for himself.” She reverts her attention back to him.

Bands had certain… molds that they needed to fit into, in some way, in order to find success. The ones that work hard, party hard or the enigmatic indie bands who all wore matching shades — something digestible. Vicki was accustomed to that. She was used to rock stars in big fur coats walking in, their breath already smelling like whiskey and their clothes already smelling like weed. They liked to act like their amber-tinted aviators were suitable coverage to brazenly eye her like the next notch on a tour bus bedpost.

In comparison, Bill no longer looks grouchy, but almost embarrassed. Like he’s trying not to express it, but the color flushing his cheeks and ears betrays him. She arches a brow, waiting for his answer as he coughs into his hand. They never expect her to be as blunt as she is. Bob found it funny.

“Try not to, at the very least.” They stare at each other a moment longer. Vicki narrows her eyes. Now that they’re opened fully — she sees that they’re a vibrant shade of blue. He returns the stare.

“Well! Nothing we can do about it now,” Chuckler claps his hands, disrupting their momentary standoff. “Get your ass over here. Sid’s got a couple ideas he’s been meaning to play with.”

It takes a while, but she watches as slowly but surely, the four of them seem to come to life in a way. They exchange ideas, talking in between. Sid’s got someone flying up from Alabama, a Eugene, and she watches as his cheeks seem to flush. Runner pats him on the back, then gives his shoulder a firm shake. She snaps a photo of it before the moment’s past. None of them seem to pay her any mind as she continues to jot down things that she deems noteworthy.

There’s an introductory paragraph forming in her head, a hook and a spread she’s envisioning. She’ll have to ring Bob later to get his feedback on it.

The guitarist, Bill, comes into himself a bit more too. They call him Hoosier, or Hoos, rather than Bill. Their stage names feel less like stage names and more like affectionate nicknames, in that way. She can’t help but stare at times. When he plays a lick on a beat-up looking acoustic, and his lips pucker as he goes over it again and again. Sometimes Chuckler or Sid will hum the melody over it, or some kind of adlib to figure out how the song goes. When he catches her stare, he grins before looking away — but not in that smug and self-serving way she’s used to. 

Chuckler carries a melody, and Sid takes the harmony, Runner’s hands tapping away on the percussion box he’s sat on. She watches as Bill’s eyes flutter shut for a moment and he licks his lips in concentration.

He looks almost otherworldly like that, like this man wasn’t still nursing a hangover just a few hours prior. He could’ve fooled her.

Vicki lifts her camera again, snaps a picture of it. She doesn’t miss the grin that forms on his face as she lowers it. He opens his eyes and looks at her, she forces her gaze down into the notepad. She tries not to stare too much after that.

Another hour goes by, Chuckler lays his own guitar down in its case, then points to Bill with both fingers.

“Since you were the last one here, you get to run and grab lunch for us,” Vicki bites back a snicker as that grumpy frown returns to Bill’s face. Chuckler then looks over to her. “And uh, if the lady’s willing to tag along with you, you gotta answer all of her questions, even if they’re way too personal.” She snorts at that.

“What kind of article do you think I’m writing here?” He shoots her a wink, gives her another smile.

“Hopefully a nice one.”

She rolls her eyes, but shifts her gaze once again. Bill’s no longer scowling, but somehow the bordering-on-expectant look he’s giving her makes her almost squirm in her seat in the corner. She doesn’t, though, and she doesn’t miss the way he grins as she rises to her feet, shrugging her jacket over her shoulders and walking towards him to look him in the eye.

“Let’s see if there’s a redemption story somewhere in here, yeah?” Bill grins unabashedly, like he’s won the lottery.

“I promise not to disappoint, ma’am.” Vicki looks him up and down, before brushing past him.

“We’ll see.” Is all she supplies him with, hoping that it’ll be cold enough to serve as an excuse for her flushed cheeks.

#not proofread we die like men #one thing about bill smith #is that he's gonna get with a reporter who bullies him #poet’s notepad #bill hoosier smith x oc #bill hoosier smith #the pacific oc #the pacific au #the pacific fic #. vicki graves #au: let me down easy

[writingcold]

Neapolitan Pt. 3

A/N: Hi all - Welcome to smutsville.  If you’ve not read Pt. 1 or Pt. 2, here’s links to go get caught up.

I’m going to put this in here - I do not know any of the gentlemen of GVF.  This is a piece of fiction, through and through.  Jake is just my blueprint to a very interesting character to me.  A muse if you will.

Pairing: Jake (switch) X fem OC (switch) 

Content Warning: Minors do not read, do not interact, just go away now.  Alcohol use, language, adult situations, a long assed sex talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, Irish Garden / twerking sex, lots and lots of … yeah.  This is just the start of me being beet red and blushing.  Yikes. Also, mentions of self doubt - hint of something darker in Violet.  Bad, bad relationship.

Word Count: approx. 9200 words - total brick of sex - well almost.

Pt. 3

     Saturday wound up being more of a crazy night than usual.  Rain had come in, forcing everyone inside.  When the thunderstorm hit, people parked at her bar and did not move.  Pop music blared and she shuddered to the mechanical autotune and overly simple, suggestive lyrics.  She wanted to start kicking the herd out as the clock rounded two and someone switched it up to manufactured country pop.  

     She knew better than to be looking for the guys, but she found her eyes strayed to the door every time someone came and went from the door.  It was a relief when she was able to make ‘last call’ and get her shit done before heading home.  She squinted into the sunshine as she pulled into the driveway, and parked next to the house.  She was ready for a Sunday.  She nibbled on some toast and sipped some tea before pulling her blackout shades and sliding into the bathroom to knock the night off.  She landed on her pillow to snuggle into her spot.  Her hands slid across the pillows and a stray thought hit her.  Violet wondered if Jake’s skin would be as soft as the pillow under her fingertips.  The thought warmed her and lulled her into a peace she needed to finally drift to sleep.

     Mid afternoon found Violet rested, fed, beer in hand, and on the mower.  She was close to the road when a jeep zipped by.  She worked her way back up and looped around when the same truck zipped by again.  She chalked the vehicle up to a lost tourist as she looped back again.  This time, the truck stomped on its brakes and Josh’s blazing smile beamed from the driver’s seat.  She pointed to the driveway before taking another loop to work her own way back.

     “Well hello,”  Josh said as he popped out from behind the wheel.  “What a lovely home for the lovely lady.”

     Danny and Sam loped out with huge smiles.  “Hey,”  she said, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head and grabbing her empty beer can before getting off the mower.  “I missed you guys.”

     Jake stood behind the truck, elbows on the hood, his sunglasses pointed directly at her, but his body was not moving as she leaned in to give a kiss on the cheek to Josh as he felt the need to ‘mwah!’  It was then she remembered she was wearing the teeny tiny black bikini top that framed her tits just right.  The corner of Jake’s mouth twitched as she waved them up towards the house.  She made sure he was following the tiny cut off shorts that also hugged the curve of her ass just right as the others innocently looked around, taking in her place.  

     “What are you guys doing this fine afternoon?”  she asked as they nearly collapsed on the wide deck.  

     Sam started to regale her about their adventure on the trailhead that was further back from her place as she slid open the wide sliding glass door to move into the house for drinks.  Jake stopped her with a firm hold on her elbow.

     “May I?”  he asked quietly as if trying not to interrupt Sam’s storytime.

     “Beers are in the fridge,”  she answered, still unable to meet his eyes as he kept them hidden.  Lowering her voice, she whispered,  “Cock’s next to the fridge.”

     The soft intake of breath made her smile as he pointed to a chair for her to sit.  “Sorry Josh, I only have beer or whiskey in the house at the moment,”  she said as she took her seat.

     Josh looked up at Jake who was waiting at the door for his twin’s order.  The man’s dark eyes slid over to Violet as if trying to figure out what his brother was up to.

     “Come on, Josh,”  Jake said, his tone impatient.  “The woman has waited on us for days, it’s her turn to relax.”

     The sharp ‘oh’ made her smile, but the other two even noticed a shift and turned her way.  She was about to toss her hands up in frustration over the men’s lack of moving forward when Sam blinked hard before he continued on with his news report, Danny stretched his long ass legs out to settle in, Josh found interest in the distance, and Jake disappeared into her kitchen.  She slipped her little tennies off and kicked her feet up on the railing.  The idea of Jake moving around her kitchen did not bother her.  She even pictured his hands reaching for the whiskey and maybe even taking a shot in order to steady himself after his little reaction to her saying ‘cock’.

      He delivered her drink first before handing out three beers, only to disappear to retrieve his own.  She smiled as he sat down beside her, showcasing his fine set of legs, much to her surprise since his twin sported some gnarly chicken legs.  

      “So, Sticks, did you make it to the creek while you were on Alice’s trail?”  she asked before taking her first sip.

     “Yeah, it was really something back there,”  he said with a nod.  

     “Then you made it to the back end of my place,”  she explained.  “Will, my brother, used to drag me back there when we were kids to catch frogs.  Did you all make it around to the dam?”

      They nodded and started sharing what they saw, all the while, she sat and listened, looking at how Jake turned towards her every time she would say something to add a little story.

     “Hey,”  Josh said, after he finished his beer.  “We were going to go down to the lake and hang out.  You should come with us.”

     She laughed until she saw that they were serious.  “Oh, guys, I got work to do around here.”

     “Looks to me like you’re almost done,”  Sam said, flashing puppy eyes at her.

     “Actually, I had just started.  Sorry,”  she said with a shrug.  She really did not want to pass on the offer.  Jake sat chin to chest and very still.

      Danny perked up.  “What’s left to do?  I mean, it’s not like we can’t help out.”

      Sam was looking around, hand slapping Danny’s ridiculously chiseled shoulder.  “Genius.  Where’s your shed?  I can…”

     The three stood up and started for her implements.  Jake set his glass down before reaching over and started twisting his fingers into her ponytail.  Before she knew it, her hair fell down around her shoulders and Jake was standing tying his hair back.  He moved right for the riding mower while the others each took a different job - weed eater, hand mower, and buckets.  Sam took the weed eater, and Danny set into using the hand mower to use by the house.

      “Looks like you and me, darling, to work in the garden,”  Josh said, offering his hand.  He tilted his head to the side with a concerned look.  “You okay there?”

      “I must be in an alternate universe,”  she laughed as they started walking towards the fenced garden.  “I have a goddamn rock and roll band doing my yard work.”

      He barked out a laugh that captured Jake’s attention.  “We are used to working our asses off while Dad sat on the porch smoking his pipe.  This is not new to us.”

     They set into weeding the different planting beds as Sam started to trim around the garden fencing.  Within thirty minutes, the work was done.  Violet watched as the boys tucked everything back into the shed.  She asked them for five minutes to grab a few things and switch the laundry around.  She slid into the matching bottoms of the bikini and grabbed a long sleeved shirt if it got cool. 

     Meeting them outside with her keys, Jake grinned as he volunteered to ride with her before any of the others could say a word.  The other three loaded in with a wave to meet back at their place to pick up supplies before peeling out leaving them alone to catch up.  Sliding behind the wheel, she was met with the smell of the sun and heat of his skin as he moved into the passenger seat.  She played with the key, not putting it into the ignition.  Her eyes narrowed as she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth.

     “Violet?”  he asked.

     “I’m going to kiss you and you’re going to be fine with it,”  she said, her voice low and firm with authority.  It was a gamble that she was willing to take to see if he really was presenting what she thought she had seen in him.

     He turned his shoulders towards her, taking off his sunglasses for the first time to really look at her.  She leaned in, hovering just over his mouth.  He seemed to want to move, but he stayed still.  Finally, she drifted that last fraction and he allowed her to kiss him in the manner she saw fit.  She slid her fingers into his hair, tugging at the hair tie that he still wore, taking it back so that his tangled hair swished across his shoulders and over his chest.  He made a soft, lush sound against her as she deepened the kiss, tasting the whiskey on his tongue as she swept hers through his mouth.  Her heart thudded as he kept his hands in his lap, allowing her to touch him in how she wanted.

     Dragging her teeth against his bottom lip, he breathed out a soft whine as she parted from him.  The smile that spread across her face at the reveal of such a presence in him made her swoon on one hand, and absolutely dread on the other.  

     “Thank you,”  he whispered, just to put the fucking cap on it.

     Running her tongue across her lips, she started the truck and got the hell out of her driveway, otherwise she was going to drag that boy into her house and shackle him for days.  He let out a breathy laugh as she tore down the road in the seven minute drive to their rental.  Jake had returned his glasses into place, but kept his eyes on her.  He said nothing, just watched.

     She passed LP’s, noticing a ton of UTVs in the parking lot.  Typical for a Sunday.  Violet pulled into their place a few moments later.  The long drive was lined with trees as it moved up a shallowy hill.  The house was massive for the area, and had a truly grand view of the lake beyond the trees.  Josh, Danny and Sam were nowhere to be seen.  Jake slid out and started walking towards the open door.  Violet was slow to follow, taking a moment to gather her stuff.

      By the time she started to step inside, Jake was walking towards her with a cooler in his hands and an agitated look on his face.

     “What’s wrong?”  she asked, stepping aside.

     “We are out of ice,”  he grumbled, heading right for the jeep.

     “That’s an easy fix.  I’ll be right back,”  she said, keys in hand.

     She got back into the truck;  he was quick to get in as well after setting his cooler into the back.  Violet grinned at how he just sat, eyes fixed forward, ready to go.  Kind of reminded her of a yellow lab.  She started the engine and drove back to LPs.  

     “They aren’t going to make you work are they?”  he asked as she parked, his face scanning the number of vehicles in the lot.  

     “Fuck no. Tony’s not that dumb,”  she answered as she parked in the front lot, next to the UTVs.  She silently hoped that her boss would not bring up the fact that she had still not cashed out the tips from Wednesday and Thursday, oh, and Friday nights.  

      Walking in with Jake in tow, her eyes scanned the very full deck and the waitress that seemed to be stressing the moment.  Tony was pushing two trays of drinks to the end for easier access when he saw her.

     “Hey, Tony,”  she said.  “I need ice.  Can I just grab?”

     “Sure, kid,”  he said with a wave, but then started towards the dining room door.

     She held up a hand for Jake to wait while she stepped into the kitchen.  Chase was in his zone, totally ignoring her as Tony stopped her with empty ice bags.

     “Hey, you still haven’t cashed out those tips,”  he said, trying to keep his voice low.  “Vi, it’s a couple hundred bucks.”

     “Shit,”  she groaned.  “I…  Hey, can I have you order me some stuff for my thing in a few weeks and we call it square?”

     “Yeah, sure.  Stop in tomorrow while I do the order, okay?”  he asked with a nod before grabbing plates to carry out to the deck.  “I’ve got someone interested in the weekday bartender gig.  Might be nice to have you here for that.”

     Chase shimmied at her with his hands on his non-existent man boobs when she started scooping ice into the bags.  “Shut it!”  she shouted over the noise of the kitchen, a huge smile in place.

     She handed Jake two bags out the kitchen door before filling two more.  She waved at Tony with an added ‘see you around ten tomorrow,’ as she breezed out of the busy bar and back towards her truck.  Jake took the bags from her and tossed them into the cooler while she stood by.  He pushed his sunglasses up to look at her.  Moving closer, he traced the line of her jaw.

     “I am not always so…”  he started, rubbing his thumb over her lip.  The corners of his eyes pinched as he leaned in.  “I’m going to kiss you and you’re going to be fine with it.”

     It was the same low tone and authority that she had used.  She stayed still as he kissed her deeply, his hand against her cheek to hold her in place.  Her heart thundered in her chest as he broke free of her.

     “You switch, son of a bitch,”  she whispered as he stepped away from her.

     The smirk that appeared as he turned his back on her set her brain on fire.  Once back to their place, they were quick to fill the coolers and grab blankets and supplies.  She eyed Jake as he held the back door of Josh’s Jeep for her.  Danny slid into the front seat while Sam was already patting the middle seat for her in the back.  

     “You better behave, Sticks,”  she admonished as she climbed in, only to have Jake draw her closer to himself.

     Sam barked out a laugh as Josh started the engine.  They headed north towards the boat landing.  Violet tapped Josh’s shoulder and started giving directions towards a better spot.  Jake's fingers traced little circles on her low back as she leaned across the front seats.  She had him turn off the main road to a dirt one and told him to go back a few miles.  Sitting back against the seat, she glanced at him as he pulled his hand back to follow the curve of her tummy.  

     Tucked back in the woods, there was a little sliver of beach amongst the rocky shore, but the sunshine was perfect as the last afternoon began to stretch the shadows across the far side of the lake.  The guys were quick to pile out.  She took the blankets and was not allowed to take anything else.

     “Such gentlemen,”  she quipped as she marched down to the shore.

     They set up, with Danny and Sam splashing off into the water and Josh tossing out the massive inflatable raft to lounge on.  She watched as Jake slid the t-shirt he was wearing over his head and tossed it onto the blanket she had just spread out.  He pulled at one of the belt loops of her shorts as he kicked off his flops.

      She unbuttoned the button and slid out of the cut offs to reveal the teeny tiny bottom of the set.  He grinned as he looked at her, holding his hand out.  She took it as she slipped out of her ripped up tennies.  He tugged her gently before wrapping his arms around her torso and dragging her into the water with a laugh.  She plunged in as the world just fell away and all that mattered was that his arms were around her.  

     It felt good to just be.  Jake had her hooked.  It was not often, and it had been years since she had met another vintage such as herself.  He let her hold onto him as he swam; she let him hold onto her as she held onto the rocks.  The way his skin felt under her fingers made her mind fuzz over with so many thoughts and plans that overstuffed a dark file in her brain.

     Jake got out of the water to help Danny and Sam build a fire as the sun dipped down below the tree line, casting little sparkle spots and shadows across the area they were swimming.  Violet clamored up onto the raft with Josh’s help.  He pulled her close so that her head rested on his arm.

     “This is a great spot, darling,”  he said, eyes closed and his face trained to the sky.  

     “Yeah.  Been coming here since I was big enough to drive a car,”  she said with a nod.  “Used to party here.  Used to…”

      “Uh huh,”  he said in a very deep, low tone that rumbled through his chest.  

      They laughed loudly.  She noticed it was enough to draw Jake’s attention as he was creating a pit for the fire.  Though he went back to his task, she noticed that he seemed to keep one eye on her at all times.  

      “So you made your pick,”  he said, nodding at Jake and how he was watching them.

      She looked into his face, seeing Jake’s features, but a bit more wild and playful.  “Oh, Josh.  You were so, so close,”  she teased with a playful swat on his chest.

      “No I wasn’t, and that’s okay.  Just be careful, my lovely,”  he said, turning towards her.  “He has a tendency of getting bored quickly.”

      “Jake’s a man who likes to drink and fuck,”  she remarked.  “And that’s about all I can handle right now.”

      “Alright, wise one, let me have it,”  he breathed, his fingers tightening on her arm.  “Why not pick me?”

      “You know, you learn a lot from how people are when they drink,”  she started, picking out shapes in the dusky sky.  “Aside from the fact that Sam and Danny have significant others, each of you have something specific that gets you.  You, for instance, have this whole Pan vibe thing going on.”

      “Ooo, Pan vibe.  I like that.”

      “You need a fairy goddess that will run through the wildflowers with you, maybe even follow ant trails and shit like that,”  she continued with a giggle.  “But you also are into a woman who will contemplate and debate and learn from the shit around you.  Sammy is an explorer.  He comes off like a sensual bastard and if there’s not enough curves for him to explore, he’s not going there.  He also requires someone who will challenge his intelligence on many levels.  Danny is a ‘forever kind’ of guy, which he works so, so well.  Although, he probably has some serious kinks that need exploring.”

      “Alright,”  his voice took on that sharpness that forced her to listen up.  “What about you?  You’re sporting this gigantic bruise that is massively deep, but you try to cover it up with being flirty and seductive and friendly to everyone.  Is that why you landed on our Jake?”

      “See, you drink with someone and you get it,”  she whispered.

     He did not ask about her ‘bruise’, nor did he press about anything beyond, and Violet was thankful.  Sammy’s loudness invaded their space.  The smell of fire filled her nose.  She rested her chin on Josh’s chest to see the lanky man dancing around happily as smoke was drifting up in plumes.  

     “I think the John Williams’ ‘Jaws’ theme just started playing in my brain, my lovely,”  he said, moving his arms up above his head.  “Be read-”

     Hands appeared out of the water, grabbing Josh’s calves.  The whole raft flipped, knocking her into the water.  Calloused fingers drifted across her hips, pulling her to the surface.  Jake gripped her body flush against his, mouth crashing into her own.

     Behind them, she faintly heard Josh coughing, sputtering dramatically, and even saying not to worry about him, he’ll make his own way to shore as Jake claimed her.  She melted against his warmth as the water had cooled quickly once the sun had set.  He started to swim backwards towards the shore, dragging her along until her feet touched the rocky, slimy ground.  She shivered against him as he gripped the back of her neck to draw her closer.  He bit into her bottom lip gently before he drew back with a hum.

     “Come on, Jake, let the girl have something to eat other than your face,”  Sam scolded with an old lady flair.

     She laughed as really started to shiver hard.  Violet followed him out and was thankful that Danny held a towel open for her before Jake retrieved one.  “Thank you, Danny,”  she said with a smile.

      She sat down to Sam handing her a plate with a sandwich on it.  “To feast upon, my lady.”

     Jake handed her a beer before sitting next to her.  She listened as they talked and joked and made fun of each other.  All the while, her brain was making lists and plans for the next week.  If Tony had found someone to take over Wednesdays and Thursdays, she would not feel so awful when she took her week off.  That also meant that it would give her time to get ready for her big visit that was pending.  

     “What’s your week like, Vi?”  Josh asked as he stretched out on the blanket.

     “Work, more work, work some more after that,”  she grinned. 

     Josh playfully glared at her.  “All work, no play, and all that, darling.”

     “Yeah, yeah,”  she said with a roll of her eyes.  “Actually, it looks like my Wednesdays and Thursdays are about to open back up.  Tony may have found someone to take over those nights.  There’s that.  I’ll have some time to actually breathe.”

     They stayed until the mosquitoes got too bad to handle.  Josh drove them back to their place, inviting Violet inside.  She hung back, keys rattling around in her hand.  

Jake pressed his fingers into the small of her back.

      “I think I’m going to head home,”  she said as he leaned close to her.  “I’d like you to come with me.”

      He nodded and asked for just a few minutes.  She waited in the truck as he disappeared inside.  She fiddled with every ring on her fingers, her necklace, her keys as her anxiety began to spike and spiral.  When he walked out with a bundle under his arm and a smile, she breathed out once before he slid into the passenger’s seat.  

     She rolled down her window before taking off down the road, refusing to see or hear the bar as they passed.  Violet realized that it was just a fresh bundle of clothes in his lap and a pack of smokes waiting to be opened on top.   Pulling into her driveway, she parked, but did not move.  

      “Showers?”  she asked, eyes planted on the steering wheel.  He nodded, mirroring her.  “Talk after?”

      He nodded again before opening his door.  She pointed him towards the main bath while she zipped upstairs to her bathroom.  The anticipation of just a conversation made her skin prickle under the hot water.  Her mind raced, imagining what he had on his own mind as compared to hers.  The high of the prospect of what could be made her giddy, while the tiniest voice in the back of her head repeated one word.  One word only.  Freak.  She rubbed the shampoo through the invisible lake goo that she imagined lingered  in her hair in an attempt to quell the word she knew had no room within her, but had been placed a few years back against her will.  The man who was showering in the bathroom below her did not seem to have the term within him.  She was sure Jake had to be extremely careful with this side of him, but he glowed when she tossed the word at him.   

      She worked the day off her with her favorite wash.  Freak.  The word threatened to grow louder and rob her of the shred of confidence she held firm to.  She took her time to work the lather into her skin, relaxing her.  Violet heard the water cut beneath her, but she continued to just take her time.  The water held her in no esteem.  It did not care that she liked to slap a man’s ass and dominate him until he cried to be fucked, nor did it care that she liked to bow to a man’s whim in whatever he wanted of her.  Her brain stopped.  That was not true.  She was still at a point where she could only mostly allow a man to do what he wanted.  

      Rinsing quickly, she needed to turn her damn brain off.  It was her worst critic and if she was going to have any kind of release, she needed to tell herself to get the fuck over it all and move on.  Toweling off, she started to rub the coordinating lotion of her body wash into her skin, starting with her toes and working her way up.  She pushed the doubt deep while bringing in the glow that she spied when Jake decided to reveal his own need.  There had been a time when she could feel that way.  It was glorious to be that unspoiled.  The last time she had felt that light had been before-

      “Stop,”  she whispered, eyes squeezed shut, hands in fists.

      Her breath started coming hard as the memory of pain, real pain, shadowed against the back of her head and across her throat.  “Fuck,”  she whispered, standing up and tossing down the bottle with a loud bang in order to divert her thoughts.

      Violet opted for simple, sliding into comfy clothes as a show of low pressure, while the no bra and scrap of lace for undies would be left for a pop of surprise.  She left her hair damp, knowing that it would dry when it dried.  Scooting down the stairs, she pushed the moment she had just experienced to the bottom of her brain, but was unable to find the key to fully lock it up tight.  

     She half expected to find Jake in the kitchen, but instead saw the outside lights were on.  Looking at him from the kitchen window, she saw he sat, smoke in hand, beer next to him.  His face was relaxed.  He truly was pretty in a way that made her suck in a breath and wonder at him like a piece of art.  Putting on her imaginary big girl pants, she made her way outside to be with him.

      “Feel better?”  he asked, holding up a bottle of beer for her.

      Nodding, she took the offering as she sat down next to him.  “You?”

     He smiled at her as she breathed in his clean skin and hair.  She imagined he smelled good no matter what he washed with.  He dropped his smoke into an empty bottle he must’ve collected from her recycling.  There was a slight awkwardness, not uncomfortable, but a hesitation was present that she had not expected.  She took a sip of her beer before she stretched her legs out in wait.

      The laugh that bubbled out from him made her grin.  “Who the hell knew talking about sex could be this weird,”  he said, sliding his hand across her arm.

      It was the ice breaker that she needed.  “Maybe we should start with setting our time limit?  I mean, you leave…”

     “Second week of August,”  he said, pressing his fingers in between hers before sliding them out and back across her hand.  

      “We can agree, that is the end,”  she said quietly before taking a sip of beer.  “You should know that I’m on the shot for birth control, and my last encounter was four months ago and he was wrapped.  I’m clean.”

     “I’m not averse to condoms, and my last encounter, to which I was wrapped, was two weeks ago, but tested clean.”

      “Neapolitan Ice Cream.”

      He looked at her with brows pinched.  “Ice cream?  You want some?”

      “No,”  she said with a smile.  “I’ve used it in my past as my guide, perhaps we could use that to set our time together.  Three flavors - vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate.  Vanilla can be neutral.”

     “The other two ‘flavors’ dictate who is over whom?”  he said, taking up her direction quickly.

     “Yes.  So, we determine the ‘flavor’ beforehand to keep us in our roles.”

     “Simple.  I like it.  I call strawberry.”  He took a smoke and held it up for her.  She took it with a grin.  After he lit it, followed by his own, he seemed to relax further.  “I want to return to time then.  I think we keep our ‘flavored’ day to Sunday.  It gives you a chance to rest before and after.”

      Violet glanced at Jake and discovered that he had a hard focus on her.  Taking care of her was important to him.  It had been important from day one when he formed a routine in asking if she was okay to get home.  The look in his eyes was genuine, this was not just a show.  “Sunday it is.”

      He seemed relieved when she agreed.  “Okay.  Next up, what is on the table here?  Toys for you?”

      “Yes, please,”  she said with a wide ass grin.  “Toys for you?”

      “Hell yeah.  Binding?”  

      She nodded with a glint in her eye.  “I would really like to see you all bound up.  Is that okay with you?”

      He squeezed her hand in affirmation.  “Breath play?”

      She held still.  There it was.  The term.  Taking a drag of her smoke, she shook her head.  “Sorry.  Can’t go there.”

      “That’s okay.  It’s not for everyone.  That’s why we’re having this weird ass conversation, right?”

      She felt her breath stutter as the pretty man beside her was ready to move on without knowing that she struggled.  Sucking her lip into her mouth, she refused to let her brain take over the moment.  It was for her body that she did this.  It was for that part of her brain that had laid dormant for too long.  

     “Impact play,”  she said as a way to force her way forward.

     He drew in a hiss.  “I will not hit harder than a spank with my hand.  I admit, I’m soft in that department.  I don’t like causing marks.”   

     “I’m a spanker and maybe, if the situation calls for it, can slap the face.  Is that okay for you?”

     His eyes rolled back as his lids closed.  For a moment, she was unsure of what was going on, but the smile that accompanied the blush on his cheeks was precious.  It was like he was fondly remembering a past encounter.

     “Yes.  It’s more than okay with me.”  He smiled at her as a way to return.  “Sensory play?”

     “Blindfolds? Feathers and that kind of shit?  Sure.”

     He shifted, obviously not done with the topic.  “How do you feel about being blindfolded and earplugs?”

     “So, I wouldn’t see you or hear you,”  she said, thinking it through.  The thought was new to her; interested her.  “As long as I don’t have to wear those huge ass headphones that the old guys wear while on the mower.  You know, the angry loud orange ones?”

     He laughed quietly as his smile tugged across his face.  “Okay, that idea may have just been killed for me.  We’ll see.”

     She blew out a breath as she lifted her beer.  He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm.  “Please do not call me ‘Mommy’, or expect me to call you ‘Daddy’,”  she whispered, knowing that for some in her own past felt wounded when she could not play this piece.

     “I don’t have to call you ‘Mistress’, do I?”  He used the same volume as she did, keeping her hand close to his mouth.  

     “No.”

     “Thank you.  I just think that we have our names, that is enough for me.”

     Her eyes drifted closed.  “Mind if I call you a ‘whore’ and other gems?”

     “Please do.  I’m fond of ‘harlot’ myself.  Are there any names you do not like?”

     She had a soft laugh.  “Nice.  I can see you getting rather creative in the name department. I look forward to hearing filth from that pretty mouth.  If I don’t like something you say, I will let you know.  I expect you to do the same.”

     “Anything you do not like?”

     She shook her head.  “If you said you like toys, I’m going to assume that you wouldn’t mind if I played with your ass.”

      “I look forward to that.”  He took the last drag of his smoke.  “Safety.  Do you like words, taps, movements, stop lights, hit me over the head with a bat?”

      “What?  ‘Stop that you stupid fucker’ wouldn’t work?”  she panned with huge eyes.  He laughed at her joke but nodded anyway.  

      “I think our word should be ‘Napoleon’,”  he said against her skin.  “It’s easier, but close enough to Neapolitan.”

      “Alright.  And two deliberate taps on the elbow also works.”  She took the last drink of her beer.

      “I’m ready for some vanilla,”  he said with a grin.  “I’d really like to hear your sounds and take some time to learn ‘you’.  I’m hoping that you’d like to learn ‘me’.”

      She melted a bit at his words.  She stood up, picking up the empties as she went.  He followed her inside, closing the door behind him.  He watched her as moved around the kitchen before catching his hand to lead him upstairs.  The humidity from her shower and the light smell of her wash still hung in the air as she turned to face him.  

      “Damn, you’re so pretty,”  she whispered as he reached for her, his face washed in moonlight.

      His mouth barely brushed her lips but it was enough to light her body on fire.  He brought up both hands to cup her cheeks as he deepened his kiss, nearly robbing her brain of all sense.  She slid his open button up off his shoulders, tugging it so that he had to move his hands to allow it to fall to the floor.  Her fingertips grazed over his belly, taking in the softness before drifting over the small love handles that he sported.  Ghosting his hands down, he tugged gently at the hem of her t-shirt.  He slowly pulled it over her head, his mouth stretched in a grin at the discovery of her lack of bra. 

     Violet slid her fingers into the waistband of her comfy shorts and gave a little shimmy to make her breasts bounce just right and knock the shorts to the ground.  The way he looked at her, all of her: from her toes to her thighs and round hips, to her belly and breasts, all the way to her parted lips and soft eyes made her catch her breath.  He was studying her.  He dragged his fingers down each hip, before bringing just his fingertips back up across the hollow of her torso, up her cleavage and back to her face.           “Beautiful,” he sighed before bringing his mouth back to hers.  

      She could feel him thicken against her.  Violet’s hands slid into the waistband of his shorts, over his ass, forcing them down and felt him kicking them to the side on the floor.  Her hands first drifted across his back, taking in the strength in the muscles there.  Pulling her palms down across his flanks and over his hips, she found his ass once more, relishing in the firm flesh.  Dropping her hands further, she felt the strength of his thighs before drifting between their bodies so as to return to the suppleness of his belly, ghosting his cock along the way up.  

     She felt a little hum against her mouth as he broke contact to sit down on the edge of the bed.  She followed him, straddling his legs, bringing him eye to eye with her.  The rich brown that looked back at her stilled her heart.  A heat touched the tops of his cheeks as she glanced down between them so she could see his dick for the first time.  She touched his face at the enduring moment before taking him in her hand and reconnecting with his mouth.  The sound he made at the touch seared into her brain to replay in the future in her alone time.  

     He gripped her ass with both hands before flipping her onto her back and rising up at her side on his knees.  She took in the size of him, unable to hide the pop that her eyes made at the sight.  He reached, pressing his fingers against the top of her foot and drew upward, over her shin and knee, up to the thigh and stopping at the crease.  He looked back at her face as if thinking through what he was discovering.  

      She reached for him, drawing him down into another passion-filled kiss.  He left her gasping as he pressed his mouth against her chin, followed by the hollow at the base of her neck.  He brought one hand to her one breast, while taking the nipple of the other in between his teeth.  The sound that she released sent shivers through her body as he pulled her breast deeper into his mouth, all the while flicking the tip of the nipple with his tongue.  He rolled the other between his knuckles in a hard pinch, forcing her to suck in a hard gasp.  He moaned into her skin as he released her only to switch sides to ensure both tits got their due.  He dragged his tongue back up her cleavage until he reached her neck once more.  

      Sitting back on his heels, he smiled down at her.  “Did you like that?”  he asked in a whisper.

     “Fuck yes,”  she hissed reaching for his hips.  “Bring this bitch closer.”

     He traced his fingers around her belly button as she yanked her body closer to his.  He brought his hips up so she could wrap her hand around the base of him while he drew tiny pictures into her skin as he inched frustratingly slow down towards her center.  Violet skimmed her fingers across the skin below his belly button, following the barely there trail of blond hair.  She dragged two fingers across the width of his base and was rewarded with the feel of her thigh being craned to the side to open her up.  She trailed her fingernail up the underside of him with just enough pressure against the delicate skin to cause friction.

     “Oh fu…”  he stuttered as looked direct into her eyes, his chest heaving.

     She grinned as she let her tongue slide from between her lips to lick just the tip of him while his attention was on her.  His left hand came down to her cheek, tracing the ridge of her cheekbone in a way that surprised her after the hard display in his eyes.  His fingers ran the course of her folds while she was distracted by his face.  A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as her jaw dropped open.  He took her clit in between finger and thumb and giving it a tender little tug, eliciting a chirp that embarrassed her.  It was a sound that he created in her.  She was sure it was the first of many.

      He split his attention between her face and her pussy as he collected slick then rubbed into like fucking lotion against her labia and the creases of her thighs.  He pressed two fingers into her core, his dark eyes blown wide as her head came off the bed with a hard hiss.  She took him into her mouth as she finally could not hold back any more.

     “Goddamn,”  he whispered as she hollowed her cheeks to suck hard as she took him all the way down until he rested in the back of her throat.   “You’re even more gorgeous with my dick in your mouth.”

     He leaned down, moving his hips a fraction to keep himself in her mouth, and kissed the top of her head tenderly as he jammed his fingers up into her, curving them before he withdrew them completely.  She groaned against his shaft as he rose back over her, eyes trained on his face.  He brought his fingers up and slid them into his mouth, all the while maintaining eye contact that set her whole body on fire.

     Releasing him, she had to steady her breath first before she could talk.  “What are you thinking?”

     “I’m thinking I can’t wait until it’s strawberry time and I can eat your damn pussy while I pump a dildo in your ass,”  he said, his voice roughened with need.

     He slammed his fingers back into her to punctuate his words.  She writhed on him much to his delight.  The light that played on his features made her draw in a stuttering breath.  She reached past his cock, ghosting her fingers up across his belly, over his hard nipples, taking a moment to twist.  

       “What are you thinking?”  he asked as he pressed his thumb into her clit while scissoring his fingers inside.

       The sound that bubbled out of her as her body bowed against his ministrations echoed around them.  “I…  I…  I need to keep that a surprise, you goddamn cunt whore,”  she ground out as sparkles started to shimmer in her vision.

      “Ooo,”  he breathed playfully.  “I hit something right.”

      She was able to cup his cheek as he looked down upon her as he ruthlessly pumped and pressed and curled and jammed within her.  Getting just enough clarity as he played on her, she shoved her thumb into his mouth, beyond his teeth and onto his tongue.  He sucked at it eagerly, just as she had hoped.  Her body bowed as he added a third finger inside.

     “You’re fucking hands,”  she gasped as her body began to slam up and down against the mattress in her spasm.

     “So I’ve been told,”  he said cockily, teeth biting down into the pad of her thumb.

     Whether it was the bass in his voice or the tornado that he was causing in her core, Violet let out a shallow groan as her vision blackened and her orgasm slammed her sledgehammer style via ninja stealth.  His mouth parted as he watched her unravel, his tongue running the course of his lip over and over as he forced her to watch his satisfaction blaze on his features.  It elevated her body into parts unknown to her, setting her skin aflame and her core into brilliance.  

     “Is the fingers slut ready for something larger?”  he asked into her mouth as he slid his hands under her shoulders and lifted her up to meet his face.

     “Fist?”  she teased before his mouth covered her own.

     He slid away from her, his feet hitting the floor.  She studied his form as he pushed his hair back from his face.  Meeting her gaze, he seemed to like her looking at him.  Really seeing him for what he was and what he could be.  She traced the line of his jaw with her eyes, taking note the way his Adam’s apple made an appearance every time he swallowed.  She could see his pulse point beat as she continued down his torso and his arms.  The faint scars and nicks and blemishes that he wore without awareness was a testament to his comfort with himself.  

     “You like to watch me looking at you, don’t you?”  she asked softly.  “I know you like watching me.  I’ve been seeing it for days.”

     “You almost killed me with that fucking top this afternoon,”  he admitted, running his fingers over her toes.  “I had to hide my damn dick it was so hard already for you.”

     His hand drifted to her calf, smoothing over the skin as he leaned down and kissed her ankle.  His hands slowly moved their way to the back of her knees.  He looked across her body, taking in the way her hands moved to her tits, giving them a little squeeze to make him smile.  He yanked her down the bed, flush against him, legs splayed, his chin just above the curve of her belly.  He pressed one hand into her chest as he pressed a single kiss onto her clit.  Her sharp intake of breath made him laugh softly.

     “I can’t wait to make you scream when it’s strawberry,”  he whispered in her skin.  “Come here.”

     She stood, stepping into his arms as he bent to kiss her deeply once more.  Feeling his full body against hers sent thrills and shivers through her.  All of his soft and all of his hard parts made her want to weep at his beauty.  He dragged his mouth to her ear, biting into the lobe tenderly.

      “Will you let me fuck you?”  he asked, his voice just above a whisper as he kissed the flesh just below the ear lobe.  

      She smiled wickedly as she nodded.  “May I?”

      He held his hands up and her body screamed at her for the loss of contact.  She pointed back to the bed.  “Scoot towards the middle, not all the way against the headboard and stay sitting up legs wide open.  You’re a visual bastard.  You’re going to love this.”

      He climbed back onto the bed, giving his dick a few swipes as she moved beside him.  “What you got in mind, my lovely harlot?”

      The way the word rolled off his tongue made her moan.  She turned her back to him, sliding into his lap so that he was fitted against her ass.  Rising onto her knees, she pulled his hands across her hips.

      “I’m not sure where you’re going with this but…”  he started until she slid down onto his cock, grinding on him until he was balls deep within her.

       She leaned back against his chest with a shared moan that would melt ice.  “Fuck you feel good.”

      Sliding her legs back straight behind him, while keeping him deep inside her, she let herself fall forward on her elbows, bending his cock with her.  The hard hiss that escaped him filled her ears.  Looking over her shoulder at him, she latched onto the eye contact.

      “Grab my thighs and do not let go.  Lay back onto your elbows,”  she whispered, feeling his dick twitch inside her.

      “You brilliant bitch,”  he rasped as she began to roll her hips back and forth in a sensual dance that made her ass cheeks bounce and her hair wave across her back.  Her movements were not fast, but each pass he pressed into her hard and right against that delicious spot that sent her into orbit.

       He shifted into her just slightly each time she rocked back, meeting her cunt with a soft slap of skin.  “How’s that for sensual, pretty boy?”

       “So damn good,”  he breathed, eyes closed for a moment.  His hands gripped at her thighs to rock her back harder.  “I feel everything you are.”

      She twerked on him, feeling her core begin to tighten around him.  He lifted up, grabbing one of her ass cheeks in a firm grip.  “Fuck, I like watching this ass,”  he grunted, massaging the muscle as it bounced and shimmied just for him.  “More.”

      She was just starting to see little knockout stars in her vision, feeling her climax begin to coil within when he gripped her hips hard.  Yanking her hips, he drove her body forward until she was totally clear of him.  Looking up at him, she was surprised to see that there was a look that was unhinged sparkling in his eyes.

      “Pull your knees to your chest, but open wide for me,”  he said, his voice nearly gravel as he spoke.

     He barely gave her enough time to get into position before he slammed with a crack of his hips against her ass.  He practically howled as he set a blistering pace seeking to release hard for both of them.  Violet’s eyes rolled back from the force of each thrust.  

    “Come on, you son of a bitch,”  she growled, trying to lift her head. 

     His jaw set as he dug his fingers into her hips, eyes dark and dangerous.  He hit into her hard, the sound filled the room around them as they moved together, skin slapping skin, breath catching, squeals of him hitting her clit in a punishing rhythm.

     “Fucking cum,”  he demanded as he began to shift his thrusts from side to side.  “I feel it.  Let me have it, my goddamned cock whore.”

      Her torso began to bow and her hips shook with effort in trying to hold the position.  His cock began to thicken within her, twitching hard with each meeting.  When she met his eyes, he shook his head.

     “Goddamn it,”  he hissed, grabbing her legs and stretching them out to hook over his shoulders.  Both of his hands shoved under her ass and lifted her up as he drew himself up on his knees.  Her jaw dropped as her weight was shifted onto the back of her shoulders.  “Let that pretty cunt dance on me.”

      He drove into her with a force that she had not had in so long that it surprised her.  Her breath stuttered.  Her moan was thick.  She reached and started to jack herself off as he pounded away at her.  His eyes locked onto how she touched herself as if learning how she needed it.

       Violet felt heat.  Followed by flame.  Finally the total incineration of her body as her orgasm hit.  Her head lifted off the mattress as he began to become sloppy in his thrusts.  His mouth hung open as he let out a stream of sound that sent her soul into another realm.  He continued to pump into her shallow as he came hard, hands squeezing her ass impossibly hard.  

      Only the sound of their heavy breathing blanketed the room for several minutes.  Violet kept her eyes closed as he continued to hold her in place against him.  She shivered with every dick twitch and was rewarded with a soft chirp from him.  Finally regulated enough to take in the view, she opened her eyes to find him head resting against her calf, his hair stuck to his face and his chest heaving with a delicious sheen across his skin.

      “Fuck, Jake,”  she whispered.  His eyes cracked open to look upon her splayed out before him.  “That was so good.”

      He gently let himself slip out of her before lowering her down onto the bed.  He kissed each knee as he carefully placed her legs back, rolling her body down onto her bed.  Jake smiled as he leaned forward to kiss her.  “That was tremendously fun.”

      He sucked on her bottom lip before rising back up and sliding off the bed.  She held out her hand for him to take and help her up.  She held his hand, leading him to the bathroom.  She handed him a washcloth as he started the hot water in the sink.  She watched as he soaked his cloth only to wring it out and hand it to her while taking hers.  He held up a finger as he washed himself first.  He took her cloth back and knelt before her.  Slowly, he cleaned her up, wiping up and down her inner thighs before pressing the cloth to her center.  He kissed her belly before standing up again.

      “Charmer,”  she whispered with a grin.

      He laughed as she led him back to the bedroom to dress and head downstairs.  He held up his pack of smokes as she grabbed a couple glasses of water.  She did not bother turning the lights on, knowing that it would just become a bug fest.  Instead, they sat in the bright moonlight, content in each other’s company.  

     The hour grew late, so much so that even the frogs and crickets seem to be resting.  Violet watched as Jake drew tiny circles across her arm.  They had taken residence in her only double deck chair.  She relished just being able to snuggle up beside him.  The two encounters she had had over the past ten months had been ‘thank you for your prick, get the fuck out’, kind of men.  That brought her to her next hurdle.  

     “Still awake?”  she whispered into his bare shoulder.

     “Yeah,”  he answered, his voice soft and lazy.

     “I need you to know it’s been a while for me,”  she said like she was in confession.  “Chocolate, I mean.”

     He was quiet, like he was thinking her words through.  “I’m not sure if it’s my place to ask why, but…”

     “Let’s just say that it’s not been in the cards for me for over three years.”

     She sat up just enough to look at him.  His eyebrows were raised and the corners of his mouth turned down.

     “I am going to need to ease into things.  I just wanted to give you fair warning.”

     He was focusing on her mouth.  “I don’t know why, but the thought of getting to be your first after ‘a while’ is incredibly hot.”

     She grinned as he pulled her back down to him, kissing her sweetly.  That sweetness quickly turned to passion, turning into fire.  There was no stop.  She took him right there on her deck, much to their mutual pleasure.

Taglist: you can join here or send me an ask

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @maverick-rose @joshkiszkas @niallsboxx

#jake kiszka x oc #jake kiszka fanfic #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka

[clarktooncrossing]

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK! There is a madness deep in the dark catacombs of Castle Clarkenstein. For years these claustrophobic corridors have been the home of the ghoulish giraffe himself, watching as the world passes by. He prefers it this way. It gives him more time alone with the voices. The voices tell him many strange things. Yet they always come back to one: make more monsters! Everyday they tell him this. Everyday he is unable to comply. Hey, being a mad scientist on a budget means he can’t afford the fancy scientific equipment needed to breathe life into newborn abominations. Guy’s gotta afford pizza somehow. Luckily, he has discovered a way of sorts to please the voices. During all those years of watching, Dr. Clarkenstein noticed a particular pattern. Every night during October saw artists posting new pictures based on peculiar prompts. Many of them based on children of the night. While the spotted specter might not be able to craft new zombies, he can sure as heck sketch’m! As such, I provide this friendly warning to you all now: Be afraid. Few people can survive the horrors that are DUDELZ of the Damned!

By that I mean I decided to do my own take on Sketchtober this year just minus the prompts. Anybody gotta problem with that? Tough, cuz I already drew this crap so you might as well check it out.

How does an alien hailing from the planet Garbanzo manage to run a successful drive-in business in the age of streaming services? By not being an idiot. After buying a former run-down truck stop turned drive thru, Ziggy realized his enterprise had to cater to a niche audience. A niche audience that, like him, realizes the best way to watch B-Movies is on a big-screen from the comfort of your car. It’s why the Robot Monster goes to such great lengths to keep everything running smoothly. Thus everyday he sweeps the parking lots, pops fresh popcorn, and inspects his projectors. Gotta make sure the movie can actually be watched, am I right? Can’t very well enjoy The Blob when your equipment’s possessed by evil and spewing out blood like a gore geyser! It’s why he and his wife Wanda make sure to sharpen the chainsaw whenever possible. That’s just smart business!

It’s also an excuse for me to pay tribute to Evil Dead. Specifically the scene near the end where Ash (Bruce Campbell) stumbles around the cellar of the cabin, looking for buckshot only to find more blood. The poor man has the stuff dumped onto his head by the gallon via leaky pipes before he’s seen quivering in front of an antique projector. More of the red stuff leaks onto the lens, making it look like the whole world is turning a creepy shade of crimson around our hapless hero. According to Campbell, the scene was meant as a tribute to one of the production’s backers, Andy Grainger. Thank goodness for Andy then, cuz it’s easily the most ironic moment in the movie, even serving as the cover for the comic adaptation years later. It at least serves as the perfect visual for Sam Raimi’s style of directing. Weird camera techniques, buckets of blood, and Bruce Campbell’s sanity shredded to pieces. Now here it all is in my tribute to the films starring Clarksburg’s resident B-Movie expert, Wonder Ziggy. I hope to draw more of this crazy character soon, but for now I hope you all enjoy this DUDEL!

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

PS: In case anybody's wondering where yesterday's DUDEL is, sorry folks, my schedule got wonky. I plan on re-releasing that soon, but first I gotta finish a commission for my friend AND cleaning my entire house to bottom. My entire body is sore, though given Ziggy's circumstance, maybe I shouldn't complain. XD

#halloween #halloween art #inktober #original art #original character #clarktooncrossing #clarktoons #Wonder Ziggy #b movie #drive in theater #Evil Dead #projector #blood #possession #red #DUDELZ of the Damned #DUDELZ #sketch

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Great At Boats (Clint x Darcy)

Lake house ficlet #3! Also, this pairing was so much fun to write. 1171 words, explicit. 

Darcy’s not mad about everybody flaking on their boat picnic plans. She’s never gonna complain about spending one-on-one time with Clint; they usually hook up, when they’re in the same place and unattached. It’s casual and easy and hot like burning. 

If she hadn’t gone too hard on the Jack and gingers last night, she could’ve totally gotten some already. She’s salty about it, but whatever: boat! That’s one for the never-have-I-ever list. 

They had a whole crew who’d planned to take the boat out for a lake picnic, but Clint goes looking for Kate and Yelena, and he comes back red-faced and sheepish. Bruce is asleep on the sofa with an open book covering his face; Sam and Bucky are too busy bickering over the tackle box to hear Darcy when she tries to get their attention, so fuck ‘em. 

She follows Clint onto the little thirty-foot speedboat, and he plops down at the controls. There’s a cushioned bench on the side of the shaded deck, and she sits at the very front, where he can see her in his peripheral vision. 

“You know what you’re doing, right?” Darcy asks. 

“I’m great at boats,” he replies cheerfully. “You can just sit and look pretty.” 

“Y’know, if any other guy said that to me, I’d probably deck them.”  

He rubs the back of his neck, giving her a sheepish smile.  

It’s true; it’d probably sound skeevy or condescending from anybody else. She’s not sure what it is about Barton, but he’s more puppyish than pervy. Most guys stare because they think it’s their right to stare, but Clint always seems to think he’s lucky to be able to look, let alone touch. 

Speaking of staring. She takes off her cover-up and he does a comically blatant double-take. 

Except then he opens his mouth, and she holds up a finger pre-emptively. “If you make one single motorboating joke, Barton, there will be no topless sunbathing today.” 

"Who, me?” The innocent expression turns to a mock-pout before he grins, eyes sparkling. 

Clint steers them toward the middle of the lake, humming some Lonely Island, and Darcy leans back, enjoying the breeze. She feels glamorous for all of two minutes in her huge sunglasses and high-waisted bikini; then Clint picks up speed, and her hair starts whipping into her lip gloss. Ugh. 

She had a whole crisis about her body earlier, because being around super-people all the time is not good for the ego. But Clint is staring at her, rat’s-nest hair and all, sneaking glances at her as he steers, and the earnest reverence on his face is doing wonders to help her feel better.  

When he kills the motor and turns to her hopefully, she spends about two seconds pretending she doesn’t know what he wants. But he’s biting his lip and staring at her like she’s a goddamn dessert, and Darcy is only human. 

“What, you waiting for an engraved invitation?” she says, untying her bikini top. 

When she lets it fall, Clint gets this dreamy look on his face and says, “Jesus.” 

He drops to his knees in front of her, kneeling between her spread legs. The bench is low enough that they’re just about face-to-face like this, and he tugs her into a kiss before palming her tits, because he’s — well, not a gentleman, exactly, but he’s not the kinda guy to just go face planting into her cleavage. 

When he drops his mouth to her tits, sucking and nibbling in all the right ways, she leans back on her palms and arches her back shamelessly, rolling her hips. She doesn’t need to hint much more than that. 

He slides her bikini bottoms off and hooks her knees up over his shoulders, burying his face between her legs with a groan. He pulls her closer, until her ass is on the very edge of the bench, holding her against his face with both hands, and does something that makes her arms go weak. She falls back against the bench, sliding her hands into his hair and twisting, and she can feel the way he moans.  

It’s been over a year but he seems to remember exactly how to touch her. That’s another thing she likes about him; he takes direction well, and he doesn’t do that thing guys do where they think “don’t stop” means “harder” and “just like that” means “try a new position.” 

Honestly, the more men Darcy meets, the more she appreciates Clint.

He gets two strong fingers inside her and presses just right, sending little ripples out from her g-spot while he sucks her clit, and —

“Jesus pogo-jumping Christ, Barton, oh my god, don’t stop don’t stop don’t fucking stop.” 

Holy shit, Darcy forgot how damn good he is at this. 

She bites down on the heel of her hand to shut herself up, because she’s pretty sure they can hear her back at the house — or, like, in space — but he doesn’t stop, not until her thighs are shaking and her vision is whiting out in the most spectacular orgasm she’s had in a long fucking time. 

She tries to pet him, but it’s really more like flapping a hand around and bonking him on the forehead a few times. 

“Holy fingerbanging, Batman,” she mumbles. “Marry me?” He just laughs. “Lemme scrape my last brain cell off the floor and then I can—”

“I could, um…” he says, and he’s got a hand on his dick but he sounds weirdly shy for somebody whose face is half covered in lady jizz. 

“Jack off on my tits?” she supplies. “Shit, yeah. Go for it.” 

So that’s a thing that happens — and it’s not like Darcy is gonna wax poetic about watching him jerk off, but she sure as fuck doesn’t mind, either. He’s really fucking nice to look at, and he’s looking right back at her with an intensity he usually reserves for things he wants to shoot, which is flattering as hell. 

She gets a little caught up in the way his white teeth look as they dent his lower lip, holding back rough, desperate sounds, and for a moment she lets herself wish that things were different.  

Then there’s the cleaning up and the shuffling around, figuring out a comfortable way to arrange all their parts so nobody’s getting a knee to the spleen, realizing the cooler is out of reach and doing the whole thing again… but eventually Darcy ends up lying down, sprawled out with the smugness of the recently-fucked, with a cold beer in her hand and a cute guy using her boobs as a pillow. Life is great. 

“Why aren’t we married?” she asks idly. 

Clint just laughs. “Because we’d be a dumpster fire of a couple?” 

“We totally would,” she sighs. “But honestly, one more bad Tinder date and I might just risk it.” 

“‘S a shame. I kinda love you.” 

“You talking to me or my tits?” 

“Either? Both?” 

“Uh-huh.” She scritches his hair and he hums happily. “Kinda love you too, dude.” 

.

.

.

#mcu fic #HHDD #darcy lewis #clint barton #clint x darcy

[or-something-better]

Sam’s Story Corner

September 27th 2022

🔮✏️🚨🔮✏️🚨🔮✏️🚨🔮✏️🚨🔮✏️🚨🔮✏️🚨🔮✏️🚨

This week’s Writing Topic comes from a question that was asked at this weekend’s Convention.

“What does your Character’s Perfect Day Off look like?”

Have to stress ‘Day Off’ because there are a few who think working is relaxing. (Huh Charlie?… and yeah, okay, me too) So, enjoy the planning of it and can’t wait to see how you’ll spend it.

…………………………

Patience

Ahh morning I stretch and yawn I get out of bed and go to the kitchen for a cup of hot tea I start to wonder what the perfect day would be hmm I can make this happen I finish making my tea and go back to my room and start going through clothes that I want to wear for the day picking out a decent top to go with a pair of jeans ahh such a lovely shade of blue, what am I going to do today I finish dressing and go outside for a walk taking my cup of hot tea with me ahh so good walking over to a tree I have a seat and finish my tea. I know what I'll do I'm going for a drive  I get up from under the tree and make my way back to the bunker thinking this would be the perfect day to drive out to the countryside and just do nothing yes no monster's yet (shit I better not say that too loud) no visions. YES ITS GOING TO BE A GREAT DAY OFF.  Walking into the bunker and grab my purse out of my room grab my keys and head out. heading to the garage my head starts to pound well hell I had to say it didn't I.  I see the perfect day a little walk nice 60 degrees outside sunny fall day. I also see a drive and a stop at dairy queen for one last DQ ice cream cone before they close for winter while having my cone I used the time to catch up on a few phone calls and after that I see the evening coming pretty quickly I drive to the country and find an open field and stop at the edge of it and park I get out as the stars are so beautiful this time of year vision is over I come to sense's. Wow now that's a perfect day only I better pack myself a picnic for today cause this vision I can control.

…………………………………..

Henry

Part 1

When I’m not hunting, baking, stuffing my face and bothering everyone with my cuteness. I’m sleeping in till who knows when then checking my messages. Before getting dressed and eating then going for a drive. Till I reach the river where I usually go when I need to be alone or want to practice my telekinesis in peace and quiet. This time I brought along Newt and my shark puppy that dad gave me.

Part 2

I pull out my lunch deciding to eat here and enjoy nature while they run wild.

“I’m glad I can finally have a day off and actually enjoy myself. I should go to that bakery store. I saw some cute Halloween decorations for cakes.” I talk aloud to myself. Sometimes it can help you come up with new ideas or fucus better. I catch up on emails while eating and taking pictures of them being silly. After a while I figured I should get the bakery store soon before it closes. I get them loaded up before driving into town . Sometimes I hit the bookstore or run into school friends. Every once awhile I hang with Crowley.

………………………….

Dean

perfect day off

just finished up with a hunt per usual i again look at Sammy as we drink a beer to celebrate hey Sammy what do you say we take that trip to the beach I've made mention of several times after our hunts? I insist it will be a great day off. You gotta admit for once we both could use it.

Sammy asks, "Really?" I can see by the look on his face that this time he's serious. "Yeah sure, let's go." I respond,  "Awesome." I reply "You're really up for it this time? We better stop somewhere for beer and trunks. Unless we going swimming and hanging on the beach nude?"

Sammy chuckles "You would.. but no, trunks ate not optional for me." then I laugh "ok ok no nudy beaches I promise. Lets head out stock up the cooler then head to the beach. We deserve one day away just to have fun. Call it a mini vacation." I put the cooler back in the car and get in starting the impala. Sammy climbs into the front seat of the car. "Vacation?" Gives me a you're serious look. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" "I know I know", I tell him  "it doesn't usually happen, but why not now? We could use a short break man."

driving to the store as we go inside and get swimming trunks, beer and everything else we may need then head back out to the car and i drive us to the beach. I get out at the beach and look around.   "Should we go fishing, swimming, or surfing first?"  Sam looks up and down the beach thinking for a minute "Looks like the waves are pretty good. People over there seem to be surfing" as he points down from us near a pier "Why don't we try that?"

I said "Awesome lets go!" start heading to the surf shop and i rent a couple boards for us and hand Sam one while I take the other and hit the waves. Holding the board, Sam decides to run up and swap it for a body board. "Pretty sure I'd kill myself on a long board. I then catch a wave and surf it back as I look over watching Sammy "hey Sammy stay there! I'll catch up we can catch the same wave and race!"

Laying across the board, Sam paddles in place until I reach him, while i swim out with him as we sit up and wait for the perfect wave. Watching a new one come in "how about this one Sammy?!? Race then we can go fishing!" Sammy answers,  "Sure!" he watches the wave and as he begins to paddle to catch it, he's more worried about keeping to his board than he is in winning any kind of race. "I'm coming for ya!" I paddle to catch the wave and jump up on the board and ride the wave in, looking over smiling, as I watch Sammy when I get to the beach should we go fishing now? Losing the board just as he hits the shallows, causing him to take a flashback of the wave right in the face. Getting to his feet coughing and sputtering, he looked over at me and just nodded his head. "Sounds like a good idea."

we head back to the shop to return the body board and surfboards and grab some fish rods hooks, and worms and hand a pole to Sam

Sam says, "The guy at the Dive shop said the best fishing is over on the other side of the pier near the big rock out cropping." and starts the hike down the beach next to me just enjoying the feel of the sun on our skin. "Okay, gotta hand it to you, this is alright"

as I'm walking with down a bit if a rocky path through some trees "see, I told you man. It’s not a bad thing to do once in a while just to recoup and get away. You ready to catch some fish?" he responds, "I could go for some fish, we can grill 'em at home tonight." Choosing his spot, Sam reaches into the container and pulls out one of the wiggling worms and quickly stick it on the hook. Deciding to aim for a shadowy spot on the other side of the rock, I watch him as he casts out his line and slowly reel it back.

“You cooking without burning?" I asked as I gets my pole ready and put a worm on the hook and cast the line in the opposite direction and find a rock to sit on propping the pole up while I grab a couple beers out of the cooler. And hand Sam one "here bro.. Cheers!"

Sam "Thanks. And you're cooking, not me." he twists the top and take a drink "You ever been to this beach before?"

No but it’s pretty nice here isn’t it? smiles as I look over watching you suddenly a fish tugs on my line so I grab my pole pulling back on the line and start reeling it in and I catch a 4lb catfish "she's a beaut!" laughs She? shakes his head "Either way the fish is a nice one. Just then Sam gets a tug on his line, jerking it back I can feel it go slack. "Shit, I think I just lost one." I watch Sam reel the line in and no fish and the worm is gone.

"Its just a figure of speech ish. I dont know." I say as I'm watching him lose his fish "dang get er back out there to catch another one"

Changing to a lure, Sam casts it out as far as he can and slowly reels it back in.

"We better start catching more fish... One isn’t gonna feed everyone..." laughs as my line jerks again so I pull on it and reel, pulling in another good size catfish as I struggle but finally catch it then I rebait and throw again immediately catching another reeling it in as I watch Sam catch one too "that makes 4 fish should we try for a few more or do you think these will be enough if we split them?"

As I bring in yet another fish Sam feels his lure catch and know it's his turn. Alternating reeling and then pulling on the fishing pole he finally brings the fish in. "There it is!" Grabbing the wiggling fish, he frees the hook from its mouth and drops it into the mesh basket with the rest and then recast his line.

I catch another but the line breaks right before i get it out of the water "DAMNIT! How many we got bro?" Sam replies, "I've only got one... I think we'll need to stop and buy a few more on the way home." start laughing "So 5 fish now buy fish to have enough? Sounds like a plan to me should we head out then since my line broke?"

"Yeah, let me get this lure back in." As he reels it in there's another snag and he pulls back hard. "Make that 6 fish Dean." he brings in the final fish of the day and packs up his equipment and picking up the mesh basket. "Ready?"

grabbing my gear as you pull up the final fish "nice catch bro!" heading back to the car i open the trunk for the fish "yep lets go!"

On our way back we stop at the store to buy more fish and drinks then back at the bunker we set up cleaning the fresh fish and enjoy a nice fun fish fry with the family

That is what the perfect day off would look like to me!

……………………………

Crowley

I step out of the dungeons, listening to the dying scream of the final prisoner that needed to be dealt with today. Heading towards my office, I bring up my calendar on my phone and find that for the first time in years it was clear. Reaching my office, I find no paperwork and thank whatever higher power that actually cared about demons that I could finally relax.

Sinking into my leather office chair, I try and think of what I could do. What I would actually enjoy. I decide to treat myself to a nice dinner first, and then figure out the rest of the day. Snapping my fingers, my suit jacket, tie and dress shirt vanish, Instead they’re replaced by a light gray button down with an embroidered back. It feels nice to just let go, not worrying about anyone. With a glance at my wall mirror, I bite my inner cheek before reminding myself this is a vacation and cut loose. Just to be cheeky I add some eyeliner to my look before vanishing.

Appearing at Bruno’s Little Italy I step inside and chuckle finding another demon already there. Walking towards the table, I take a seat. “What’re the odds I’d find you here, of all possible places?” Guy Fieri stares back at me and just grins. “The same odds that I’d find my boss here.” We share a laugh and order together discussing his show and how it had really increased the number of souls collected outside of the usual crossroad deals. Him and Nicole had really cornered the reality television market, and I considered them good acquaintances.

Standing to leave, I shake Guy’s hand only to be pulled into a ‘bro hug’. It’s startling, but I find it nice and return before vanishing back to hell for a short time to collect my hounds. I also get a basket of toys, a blanket, the book I’ve been meaning to read, and the champagne Ruby gave me before we all travel to Kilt Rock. My eyes fall shut as I feel the salty breeze and spread out the tartan blanket and sit. “Go play my darlings.” I lay down on the blanket, pour myself a glass and open to the first page of Tower of Nero with a relaxed sigh as I listen to the pups play, grabbing toys from the basket as necessary. Poe snuggles up under my chin, and Tybalt flops down on my back after a few hours of roughhousing. Eventually, even though demons don’t have too, we all end up dozing off as the sun sets feeling more at peace than we have in ages.

Part Two

I stand off to the side in the Bunker, watching Dean talk to Sam and Charlie. There didn’t seem to be any new cases, and for the first time in ages I didn’t have a backlog of paperwork. Walking over, my hand slips easily into the elder Winchesters tugging him away from the group, I melt slightly when Dean’s lips find my own and chuckle into the kiss before pulling away. “We both seem to be free, let me take you out.” Not waiting for an answer, I pull him close and vanish us both to Rome.

Making us appear outside of the doors of a nice restaurant, we get a table with minimal issue. Of course the hostess had eyed Dean’s jeans and flannel with distaste, but one dark look from me had her scurrying to appease us. That seemed to earn me another kiss from an appreciative hunter. The entire dinner seems to pass in a blur, though there’s a strong memory of Dean attempting to order a burger when it isn’t on the menu. Still, we’re laughing together as we exit the establishment.

Lacing out fingers, I guide Dean through the streets telling stories of watching the city grow and some mischief that might have had my hand in them. As I glance back at Dean, he seems to be laughing along with me and I guide us towards the beach as the sun sets, remembering he liked long walks along them. His arm wraps around me and I lean my head on his shoulder. My eyes close as we stroll in the fading light, and eventually to the light of the moon until I feel us stop. I turn to look at Dean when the arm around my waist tightens and we kiss again, more passionate than any shared before.

“ Crowley “ Hearing my name confuses me, since the source of voice speaking is busy kissing me.

“Crowley,” I hear it again, only it’s hazier and I blink.

“CROWLEY!” I’m snapped back to the bunker and find Dean, still standing there talking to Sam and Charlie, well, actually presently yelling at me. “Yes darling?” He rolls those lovely green eyes at me, and I sigh in regret at being dragged from my thoughts. “We have a case, you coming or not?” My eyes wander down to the silver ring bearing the MacLeod family crest on his finger. Maybe, just maybe there was hope it wouldn’t have to be only a dream if I didn’t screw this up. “Of course. Don’t want to risk my husband getting killed, do I?” I can feel the eyeroll as I finish my drink and follow them to the garage. Maybe there was hope or us, and maybe for a day off too.

…………………………………………

Sam

“What does your Perfect Day Off look like?”

I think there are a lot of things that could be put onto my list of ‘Perfect Days’. Just off the top of my head… anytime we survive a hunt with everyone alive and well would certainly qualify as a Perfect Day in my book and many more things along those lines like…Spending time with my brother… Getting to share in all the aspects of this extended Family… and the best part of the Family motto “Saving People.”

It’s when you add the qualifier Perfect Day OFF that things change for me. I don’t really think of my days as working or nonworking. This is just our lives. It’s how we’ve chosen to live and it’s just how everything normally IS.

But I feel like I owe you guys an answer, since I was the person who posed the question in the first place. So, I guess I’ll tell you about a day from last week that seemed pretty perfect… before all the mess that came after.

I woke up early and went for a morning jog. The mornings are colder now, and the air was really crisp, and I could actually feel the coldness expanding my lungs while I ran. I watched the sunrise standing in a grove of trees down near the pond.

After the run, I came back, got cleaned up, had a smoothie and then set down to finish up some of the transcribing I’ve been doing on the Men of Letters card filing system. That’s not technically work, it’s something that I look forward to doing. Those guys really had their finger on the pulse of everything back then.

Got a call from Ruby in the afternoon. She and I have been talking about going away to somewhere exotic for dinner for a couple of weeks now and she wanted to know if it was a good time to go. Sounded good, so she popped here to get me, and we popped over to Santorini Greece.

We spent a few hours walking the streets just like all the other tourists. Felt good to be somewhere no one knew us and it was a really enjoyable afternoon. We later had a nice dinner at one of the local restaurants with a terrace. The food was wonderful and watching the sunset over the water was something I’ll remember forever.

So, there you go… my Perfect Day Off.

[registrymoon]

50 shades of grey scenes

I thought this would be my one opportunity, so I said yes.” She adds, “There’s all sorts of fun you can have in a darkened room … You can eat lots of popcorn, for example … But there’s a special thrill seeing what used to exist only in your head and on the page up there on a screen for an audience to experience together. I used to work in TV, and I enjoyed it, but like a lot of TV people I’d always wondered how it would be to work on a movie. But when they went viral and started selling in millions, Hollywood came calling, and the demand for a movie, from studios and from fans, became almost overwhelming. James says, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to make a film, but then jokes, “Have you met my agent, ?” She adds, “When I started out writing Fifty Shades and sharing it with friends on the Internet, I had no idea this is where this would all lead. There are few book-to-film projects in recent memory that have been as anticipated, debated, and kept under wraps as Fifty Shades of Grey. “Life was all about parties and entertaining.” The couple lived in a Georgian home in Marylebone. Jopling, Taylor-Johnson’s first husband-an Eton-educated son of a Tory M.P.-became one of the most powerful art dealers in Europe and the primary salesman of the Y.B.A.’s, including Hirst and Tracey Emin. “In the art world, the more blue-collar you are, the more you get invited to dinners with ambassadors of whatever, because you’re presumed to be an interesting person,” she said, a bit dryly. We talked about her childhood in England, spent on welfare in a “strange, dark, gloomy house that still gives me nightmares,” before she made her way to Goldsmiths art school, where she befriended Damien Hirst and many of the young artists known as the Y.B.A.’s, or Young British Artists. It helps me clear my mind and helps me keep sane,” she explained. “I have had to every day because of the madness of Fifty Shades. Stepping lightly in her sneakers, Taylor-Johnson headed out of her home and began hiking up a steep path. “And we’ve also got two dogs who are girls, so Aaron is completely outnumbered: it’s seven to one in this household! There are crazy hormones here.” “Aaron takes care of the girls when I’m working and he’s not,” she said. The kids went off to the playground with their father. “It was move the family to Los Angeles to finish Fifty Shades or commute from London,” said Taylor-Johnson, a slender, self-possessed blonde who had dressed in sporty blue shorts and a white T-shirt in expectation of taking a hike. On a recent weekday at 8:30 A.M., those young girls, plus Taylor-Johnson’s two daughters from her previous marriage to art dealer Jay Jopling, a near tween and a teenager, were climbing around her Hollywood Hills villa like macaques on a Hindu temple.

“No, it was amazing,” said Taylor-Johnson, adding that women shouldn’t listen to male doctors at hospitals who tell them to give birth in a certain way. The two were married in 2012, and together they have two daughters, whom Aaron delivered on his own at their home in London. She’s also futzed with her name of late, after falling in love with Aaron Johnson, the 24-year-old Godzilla and Avengers: Age of Ultron star, whom she cast as a young John Lennon in Nowhere Boy, her first feature film. Like James, Taylor-Johnson, 47, is British. That is, few women except Sam Taylor-Johnson, director of the first film in the Fifty Shades trilogy (yes, there will be not one, not two, but three movies, provided that the first, which opens in theaters on Valentine’s Day, isn’t a colossal misfire). James, the 51-year-old, dark-tressed British author who created a compendium of her sexual fantasies, called the book Fifty Shades of Grey, and watched in shock as the book and its two sequels ( Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed) sold more than 100 million copies worldwide, making her more than $100 million.

Few women in the world are more self-actualized than Erika Leonard, better known as E.

#50 shades of grey scenes

[vampirefreakism]

The Blue Princess (Chapter 5)

Summary: Just a casual morning with friends

Warnings: none <3

Word count: 1.8k

The AO3, Wattpad, and Spotify links are on the Masterlist

A/N: yo, sorry this took so long and it’s shorter than usual. I hit a writer’s block and then my self-esteem dropped and my responsibilities got weird and crazy. I know where I want this story to go but planning the little details can take forever, you know? And you all know by now how much I love those details <3

----------

Tony’s remote guest house was truly a godsend. The forest and distant mountain sceneries did wonders for the nerves. After a stressful phone call or a quick read of a breaking news article, a small glimpse of the lush greenery easily dispelled any doom-and-gloom from the atmosphere.

To make relaxation go faster, Natasha and Steve decided to do gentle laps outside in the early morning. Boisterous birdsong replaced their need for music in their ears, and the fresh air gave their lungs a boost. After a few roundabouts around the house, Sam and Bucky joined them and the quartet settled into a steady jaunt.

Steve and Bucky stayed in step with Natasha and Sam, but Natasha was quickly tiring, so she tapped out for a rest and water break under some shade. She watched the trio run by in regular intervals, sometimes throwing out a flirty catcall to see if Sam would laugh and playfully flip her off. Sometimes he did, and other times, Steve cracked back a response. Bucky remained nonchalant through it all, but he couldn’t help smiling to himself. He missed his goats, lakeside hut, and the neighbor kids, but he was grateful for the company here.

After some time passed and the sun shone high in the sky, Luna emerged to join Natasha. She was clad in light workout gear and holding two glasses of freshly-squeezed lemonade.

“Lemonade, for me?” Natasha asked as she reached for a glass.

“Yup,” Luna responded as she handed it off and sat beside her. “Fresh fruit juice like this helps with hydration much better than plain water.” She sipped hers and took in the fresh air. “I set some out for the boys so they can have it when they’re ready.”

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.” Natasha took a large swig and hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re very welcome. So, I take it you were out here doing laps too?”

“Yeah, then I got tired and sat down and didn’t get back up.” She shifted her position and groaned. “I’m getting too old for this.”

Luna waved her off. “Ah, no one’s too old for anything.” She sipped her lemonade and gazed up at the leaves. “I suppose I should ask you what I came out here to ask you.”

“Aw, so you’re not here to have lemonade with me and delight in my company?”

“Haha, no, I am.” She tilted her head to look at Natasha. “I was going to ask if you wanted to do some yoga with me.”

“Ah, I knew you liked me, Lu!” Natasha teased. “Sure, yeah, I’ll join you.” She moved to get up but stopped short. “Uh, just as soon as my knees are in working order.”

Luna leaned against the tree. “That’s ok. We got time to rest. Besides, the day is nice.” She closed her eyes and breathed in the air. They could stay out for a little while longer.

--------------------

Sam huffed and puffed on the way to his glass of lemonade. By the time he took his first sip, the ice was almost completely melted, but it was still cold and refreshing as can be. Dabbing the sweat off his brow, he watched out the window and drank some more. Exercising with friends made the task much more enjoyable, but it also provided an incredible distraction from how exhausted he felt, at least until he found himself tripping over his feet. Steve and Bucky could finish their supersoldier laps by themselves. The regular people in the house needed breaks.

As Sam caught up to his breath, Loki traipsed into his periphery, looking refreshed and a little bit shiny.

“Hey, man,” he said, throwing his hand up.

"Good morning," Loki greeted as he grabbed the bread bag. "You look positively exhausted. Having too much fun?”

“Heh, yeah, you could say that. The super soldiers are still partying outside, though.”

Sam gestured to the window, and Loki looked back just in time to see Bucky and Steve jog past.

“Ah. I suspect they’ll be out there for a while.” Loki glanced down and spotted the untouched glasses of lemonade. “Shame to leave these out.”

Sam looked over. “Yeah. They’re really missing something special. I don’t know how Lu does it.” He took another sip as Loki’s interest piqued.

“She made these?” He picked up a glass and took a whiff. The scent of sweet citrus gave his morning the boost it needed. “Oh, they are missing out.” He set the glass down and picked up a lemon, completely forgetting about the bread. “So,” he said as he cut it in half, “how’s the bet going?”

Sam set his glass down a little too loudly and frowned at him. “Dude,” he said sharply.

Loki looked over and smiled mischievously. “Did you really think I wouldn’t tease you about that?”

“No,” Sam shot and took another sip of his lemonade. “I just feel foolish, lettin’ you in on it.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like I wouldn’t have joined in if I could.”

“You guys like bets on Asgard?”

“Oh yes. They gave yours truly-” Loki gestured to himself “-all the excuses in the world to play."

Sam scrutinized him. “Hm. You win any?”

“I’ve won enough.” Loki rinsed his hands and got a glass, fork, and small sieve. “But between you and me, sometimes losing is a lot more fun.” He placed the sieve over the glass and twisted the fork into the lemon’s insides. “Since I only really played with Thor and our mutual friends, we stopped betting money fairly early into our games. It got boring and repetitive, so we started betting each other with tasks. Made things more of a challenge.”

“What was the craziest thing you’ve ever done when you lost?”

Loki laughed. “I don’t think you can handle that one.” He squeezed out the rest of the juice from the lemon half and started on the second one.

“Ok,” Sam chuckled. “Uh, you do anything here? Like, make an animal talk or something?”

“Better; I’d become the animal and start a local legend.”

“No shit!”

“Oh yes,” Loki said through bubbling laughs. “Talking woodland creatures make for the most vibrant characters.” He tossed out the empty lemon halves, grabbed the sugar container, and tossed in a couple of heaping spoonfuls.

“Haha! Man, you’re crazy.”

“And proud of it.”

They shared a little chuckle as Sam shook his head in amusement and drank more of his lemonade. Loki grinned to himself as he stirred in the sugar and took a sip of his fresh drink. He savored the flavor and searched for any discrepancies as he tidied up the counter.

Once Loki was done, he picked up his glass and went to stand next to Sam.

“What do you think they’re talking about out there?” Loki asked as he eyed Luna over the lip of his glass.

“I don’t know. Maybe Steve’s questionable style choices.” The pair chuckled briefly as Sam drank the last of his lemonade. They kept casually watching the two outside as they chatted away about something. “Speaking of style, I’ve never seen Lu in that outfit before. It’s nice.”

Loki looked from Luna to Sam and back again. Luna wore a loose tank top and a pair of blue patterned leggings. He hadn’t seen her change into it, but it was probably for the best. He would have gotten completely distracted and not gotten any reading done.

But as Sam kept gazing out, Loki got an inkling of something settling in his chest, something that made the shells of his ears prickle and his stomach turn a little.

“Do you like her, Sam?" Sam's head whipped to look at him, and Loki cracked a disarming smile. “I won’t be upset if you do.” He lied, but only a little.

Sam blinked and held up a hand. “Oh, hell no. Lu’s my friend. She’s nice and all, but not really my type. I like ‘em more,” he tilted his head from side to side, “girly. You know?”

Loki narrowed his eyes slightly. “Right.” It wasn’t something he understood, but he accepted it and shrugged. “More for me, then.”

Sam nodded. “Oh yeah, for sure. All yours, man.” He tapped Loki on the shoulder with his fist and turned his gaze back to the window. “They’re coming this way. Act natural.”

Loki glimpsed Luna and Natasha approaching the entrance and stepped forward to greet them. As they walked through the door, Luna cracked a huge smile and made way for him.

“Oh, you’re up!" she said and looked down at his glass. “Oh, I would have made one for you.” She stopped in front of him and peered down at its contents.

“That’s alright,” Loki responded. “I felt like it.”

Luna looked up at him. “May I have a taste?" He caught his breath a little and handed her the glass. She took a delicate sip and ruminated over it as she handed it back. “Mm, oh, that’s good. Great job." She touched his bicep, and he tensed his muscles a bit. “Oh, so Nat and I were going to do some yoga in the spare room over there.” She pointed down the hall to the end of the house, and everyone looked along with her.

“Wonderful. Sam and I were thinking about having a bit of lunch.” Loki lay a kind hand on Sam’s shoulder, and Sam scrunched his brow.

Thankfully, Luna didn’t notice. “Great! I’ll talk to you guys later.”

She leaned forward a bit but retracted her step and touched his arm again. She wanted to kiss him, if only for a brief moment, but their kisses were a private matter until they decided otherwise. Plus, she didn’t want to give Natasha and Sam the satisfaction, not even to tease them.

But as Luna walked away with Natasha by her side, the moment was not forgotten.

“Damn, did you see the way he looked at you?” Natasha whispered.

Luna grinned. “What?”

Natasha leaned closer. “If anyone ever looked at me like that, I would not be leaving my bedroom if you catch my drift.” She bumped Luna's side with her elbow, and she gasped.

“Ha! You’re so bad!” They shared a brief laugh, and Natasha sighed.

“But seriously, I swear I saw stars in his eyes.” They stopped by the door, and Luna lingered by the handle, trying to hide her smile. "Aw, you got ‘em too,” Natasha playfully teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Luna said bashfully as she opened the door.

Back in the kitchen, Sam waited for the two to disappear out of earshot before speaking.

“Since when were we having lunch?”

“Since you started feeling hungry,” Loki responded and met Sam’s skeptical gaze. “I can see it in your eyes, and I’d also like some food.” He took a step towards the kitchen island and beckoned Sam. "Come on; I’ll sous-chef.”

Sam’s brows shot up. “You think you can keep up with me?” He grinned and walked around the island.

Loki shrugged. “Let’s start and see what happens.”

----------

Taglist: @the-doctor-9-100 @pinkieperil @wreckache @will-die-without-chai @marvelschriss​ @hornybitchwithgoodtaste​ @fantasyfan4life​​​​

#loki x reader #loki x oc #loki fanfiction #the blue princess #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #luna fields #oc luna fields #the scientist #multi chapter #chapter 5 #slow burn #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #desi character #indian character #desi oc #indian oc #marvel loki #loki marvel #sequel

[earthsbestdefnder]

in the weirdest headspace rn

#like overall I know I’m gonna have a really solid birthday #but it’s not last years birthday and it’s not the birthday I would choose for myself #so !! I’m bummed #also I Hate planning my own birthday cause it feels selfish #so I’m basically disappointed every year #because I know what I want #but I’m too scared/anxious/afraid of being labeled high maintenance and selfish that I never ask for it #and also it would be really nice if instead of “what do you want to do #people planned things For me like #‘okay I’m taking you to dinner for your birthday’ or ‘we’re doing xyz for your birthday’ #like idk!!!! it sucks that only one (1) friend asked what I was doing for my birthday #(hi Nagita) #like ... idk I feel like Most years I’m disappointed by my birthday and that’s just! super sucky #also this is in no way shading Sam he is wonderful and taking me out to lunch and spending the day with me and I love him #ugh that was a lot #taryn rambles

[the-winter-spider]

I live for your fics and i live for the angst you write it so perfect but i was wondering if you could write something small like a one shot that was fluff 🥺

Three Words

Pairings: TFATWS!Bucky x Reader

Word count: 800

Warnings: flufffffffff

A/N: Ask and you shall receive, hope you like it! Not edited or proof read

Masterlist

++

“Now what are you doing here all by yourself?” You heard Sam’s voice booming from behind you, the dock creaked as he came and planted himself beside you. Swinging your legs back and forth just about touching the water below you “Just needed a break” you shrugged

“My family isn't that bad” He laughed giving your shoulder a shove

“Oh come on Sam, y’know that's not what I meant”

“I just like bugging you is all” He took a sip of his beer

“It's just” you trailed off, letting out a sigh “I don't know actually, just forget it”

“It's Bucky isn’t it?”

Letting out a laugh “is it that obvious, things just feel different”

“Good or bad, kind of different?”

Before you got the chance to answer you heard heavy footsteps behind you, Bucky cleared his throat “Sarah is asking for you Sam”

He looked back at Bucky nodding, he put his hand on your shoulder “We’ll finish this later”

You heard Sam’s footsteps start to retreat before shouting “I expect both of your asses back to the party in 10 minutes top!”

“He’s bossy sometimes, isn’t he?” Bucky chuckled, sitting down beside you, you nodded in agreement.

“Sometimes?” A quiet laugh leaving your lips.

A silence rose between the both of you, not comfortable like they used to be, this one felt thick, like there were unspoken words and feelings floating around, which there were.

--

“You need to be more careful!” Bucky shouted at you

“I was perfectly fine, I can handle my own thank you very much”

He scoffed “Handle your own? Is that why that why you were on your ass with someones hands around your neck”

“I can handle myself Barnes, now leave me alone!” You started walking fast, trying to get away from him but he was right on your tail

“I wasn't done talking to you y/n”

You laughed throwing your hands up “That's what you called talking? Treating me like a child, why don't you go ‘talk’ to Sam to then because he was also getting his ass kicked”

He was fuming you could see it, this isn't even the worst fight or disagreement the two of you have had “Because”

“Because why Bucky?! Huh? Because I’m not as strong as Sam or you? Because I can do pretty well on my own and sure as hell was befo-“

“Because I love you!”

—

“Y/n”

“Yeah Buck?” You didn't look his way, your eyes still glued to the water in front of you, a dark shade of blue what you imagined Bucky's eyes to look like under the moonlight.

“I, what happened back there, I-“

“You don't have to explain yourself Bucky it's fine, really”

“But its not, I know you can handle yourself, i know you kick ass you were doing it side by side with Steve before I came back around, I just, don't wanna lose you”

You turned your head to look at him, really look at him. God how could someone be this handsome it had to be illegal you thought, your hand reached out taking his hand in yours, he looked stunned “You’ll never lose me Buck, your stuck with Sammy and me now”

His thumb was rubbing circles onto your palm “Not sure how I feel about the Sam part, but the you part sounds pretty great”

“D-did you mean it? What you said back there?”

He nodded “Everyone single word doll”

“When did you know?”

“After the snap, when they said it had been 5 years, I just wanted to find you all the lost time, I knew then.”

“Why didn't you say anything before?”

He finally left your gaze, he shrugged “I was scared is the short answer”

“You're not scared now?”

He laughed “No i definitely still am but nothing was scarier than watching the life almost leave your eyes”

You nodded, you knew you loved Bucky a long time ago. You were scared to love and be loved, everyone you ever loved was dead or gone, each person was like adding a nail to the coffin of your heart and all you had left was Sam and Bucky and right now it felt, no you knew they were enough, that they wouldn’t leave like the others, this time felt different.

You always thought love was nothing but a burden to have and looking at the super soldier beside you, the way the light from the sun setting was shining off his skin you knew this was a burden you wanted to bear. That no matter the outcome and god you prayed it would be a good one, was an outcome you were ready to take on.

“Hey Buck?”

His eyes left the waters and met your face, his hand still entwined with yours “Yeah doll?”

“I love you too”

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #tfatws #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[hintsofhoney]

Sin

Paring(s): Demon!Dean Winchester x Castiel

Summary: Cas just can't say no to demon Dean...

Square(s) Filled: Sub!Cas for @spnkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, rough sex, oral every which way, light bondage, dom/sub undertones, dirty talk

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Emma put this idea in my head, so blame or thank her. Huge shout out to @treat-winchesterswith-kindness, @deangirl93, and @ejlovespie for beta-ing and cheering me on - I love you guys! GIF is mine. Hope you guys enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DESTIEL MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Cas sighed as he made his way to Dean’s room. Or, rather, Dean’s old room ever since he woke up with black eyes and decided to abandon Sam and Cas in the bunker to go God knows where with Crowley. It was routine for Cas these days – sitting in Dean’s room for a bit, wondering when he’d come back, looking through his cassette tapes, missing him. It was keeping Cas sane. It was a very human thing to do – to miss someone. To worry about them. But Dean made Cas as close to human as an angel could possibly get – not that Dean knew that. Or would ever know, for that matter.

“Hi, angel,” came a familiar deep voice as Cas opened the door and stepped through the threshold, causing Cas to jump. He looked up to see Dean laying on his bed, his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.

“Dean. You’re back,” he stated, trying to gauge whether this was normal Dean or demon Dean that he was talking to. Or was demon Dean the new normal now? 

“Hm, not quite,” Dean smiled, his eyes flickering to black before they flickered back to Cas's favorite shade of green. 

“Oh, right. What – what are you doing here?”

Dean chuckled darkly. “Take a seat, Cas. Don’t be shy. I won’t bite.” 

Cas walked over to the chair that was tucked underneath Dean’s desk and slowly took a seat. “What are you doing here?” he repeated.

Dean took a breath before a devilish grin spread across his lips. “You.”

The angel tilted his head in confusion.

“You asked me what I’m doing here. You. I’m going to do you.”

Cas was silent as he processed what he had said. “This – you – Dean doesn’t want that. I won’t let you.”

“Ha! That’s cute. And Cas, I am Dean now. And I’ve wanted you for a long time. Even before, when I was human, my mind was all, ‘Cas, Cas, Cas’. But I’d never let myself act on it,” he smirked, getting up from the bed and making his way over to where Cas was sitting. “Not outside of my head, anyway. But now,” he continued, standing in front of Cas and leaning over, his hands resting on the arms of the chair as he caged Cas in, bringing his face to the angel’s level, “Now I got no inhibitions, baby.”

Cas gulped. “Why – why now? You’ve been gone for months.”

“So I went a few places, tried a few things… sue me. I’m here now. Wanted to see if I could bag an angel. C’mon, Cas. I know you got it bad for me, don’t you?”

Cas shook his head. “You’re not Dean.”

“I am though, sweetheart,” he replied with a smile, standing up and spinning around as if he was showing off a new outfit. “C’mon, what d'you say? I mean, I am just asking as a courtesy – because you’ll be on your knees in about thirty seconds either way.”

Cas shifted in his seat as he tried to hide the hard-on that was forming beneath his slacks. He wanted to – he wanted to so badly. But, would it be wrong? To say yes? To take advantage of Dean in this state? It didn’t really seem like he had much of a choice, did it? He might as well enjoy it, right?

“And… three, two, one,” Dean counted, looking down at Cas as he started to unbuckle his belt. Cas gulped. “You gonna suck my cock willingly or do I have to make you do it?” Dean hissed, his patience completely gone. 

Cas's breath hitched as something in him brought him out of the chair and on to the floor, his knees hitting the concrete as his head came level with Dean’s crotch.

Dean smirked as he placed his hand in Cas's hair, tugging back slightly on the short strands, forcing those blue eyes to look up at him. “That’s what I thought. God, you look even prettier at this angle.” he smiled wickedly as he used his free hand to unzip his pants, letting them fall to the floor. “Look at that, Cas. Look at what you do to me, even now. Fuck, you’re pretty. Put your mouth – yeah, there you go,” Dean groaned as Cas mouthed his cock over his boxer-briefs. “Jesus, Cas.”

Hearing his name come out of Dean’s mouth like that – it unleashed something inside him. Cas's hands traveled to the waistband of Dean’s briefs, hooking his fingers over them and pulling down in one swift motion. He watched as the demon’s cock sprung free, his own cock testing the limits of his slacks. Grabbing Dean’s shaft in one hand, he brought his lips to the tip, slowly licking the precum leaking from his slit. He watched as Dean threw his head back, his grip in Cas's hair tightening as the angel took him all the way in his mouth. 

“Good, just like that, baby. Fuck,” he breathed, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of Cas’s throat. Cas began bobbing his head, twisting and pulling what he couldn’t fit in his mouth with his hand, listening to the moans and gasps falling from Dean’s lips. “God, you’re good at that,” he praised, encouraging the angel to keep going. A few more seconds passed before he pulled Cas up by the grip he had in his hair, forcing him to stand up. He gripped underneath Cas’s chin, his thumb and fingers digging crescent moons into his cheeks. “Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hm?” he asked through gritted teeth, walking Cas into the wall behind him.

The angel winced as his back hit the wall, unsure of how to answer Dean’s question. “I…”

“You what?”

“I learned from the videos on your computer. The, um, porn.” 

Dean’s eyebrows raised in surprise, an impressed expression appearing on his face. “You watch those for me? So you’d know what I like if you ever got the chance one day? Hm?” he husked, leaning close to Cas’s ear.

The angel gulped. “Y-yes, Dean,” he nodded, closing his eyes as he felt the demon’s breath against his earlobe.

“Wow, you got it bad for me, don’t you?”

Cas nodded again, unable to answer verbally as Dean’s lips met with his neck, sending chills down his spine. At the same time, his fingers got to working on Cas’s belt buckle, pulling the leather strap through the loops in record time before unzipping his pants and letting them fall to the ground. Glancing down, Dean smirked at the bulge in the angel’s briefs before shedding him of the rest of his clothes – the trenchcoat, the suit jacket, the white button up, and the tie. Keeping the tie in his hand, he crashed his lips into Cas’s, turning him around and leading him towards the bed. The backs of Cas’s knees hit the foot of the bed, forcing him to sit down, reluctantly breaking the heated kiss. He looked up at the green-eyed man in front of him, wondering what he was going to do next. 

“Open your mouth,” he instructed, to which Cas obeyed. Dean could have told him to do absolutely anything at this point and he would do it without question. Dean took the tie that was still in his hands and placed the center of it in Cas’s mouth, tying the ends of it behind his head, before dropping to his knees in front of the angel. Cas’s eyes grew wide as he watched him tug at his briefs, pulling them off of his legs and tossing them behind his shoulder, Cas’s cock springing free. His green eyes met with Cas’s blue ones before he smirked. “Stay quiet, sweetheart. Would hate for anyone to walk in and find us like this,” he husked, winking and taking all of Cas into his mouth. The angel threw his head back in ecstasy as Dean took Cas into the back of his throat. He had only ever imagined this; he never thought it would actually be happening. His hands came to tug at Dean’s short strands as he continued his ministrations, spit dripping down Cas’s shaft and to his hole. The angel held back a gasp as Dean circled his finger around his rim, spreading his spit around before slowly working Cas open. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he smirked, looking up at him as he continued tugging on Cas’s shaft. “Turn over,” he instructed, briefly pulling his hands away and allowing him to do as he was told. Cas obeyed, turning over on the bed and scooting up a little, so he was fully on the mattress. Dean positioned himself behind him, grabbing his hips and pulling him up by them so his ass was in the air. “C’mere,” he growled, before spreading Cas’s cheeks and dragging his tongue along the rim of his hole. The angel gripped the sheets beside him, trying desperately to hold back the moans of pleasure that were threatening to escape him. 

It wasn’t long before he felt a finger enter him, then another, and before he knew it, he had been worked open enough to where Dean could enter him with ease – and Cas had never wanted anything more in his life. Biting into the silk fabric in his mouth, he breathed in sharply when he felt the tip of Dean's cock at his entrance. Entering him slowly, Dean threw his head back in pleasure as he felt the angel's hole wrap around him. “Fuck,” he breathed, begining to thrust slowly and steadily. He leaned over Cas, caging him underneath him so he could whisper in his ear. “You wanna know what Dean’s thinkin’ right now?” he asked, wrapping one of his strong arms around Cas’s waist as he thrusted in deeper. Cas nodded. “He’s hopin’ that if he’s ever human again, he’ll remember this. ‘Cause he’s been wanting to feel you for a long fuckin’ time.”

Cas whimpered at the demon’s words. He wanted them to be true, but he was smarter than that. He wasn’t going to trust a demon. But he’d find out either way, once they cured him. Dean picked up the pace, ramming into him harder and faster, hitting the right spot with every thrust. Cas was close; he could feel it. He could feel Dean’s cock twitch inside him, too. 

“You gonna cum? You gonna cum just from me fuckin’ you?” Dean panted through thrusts. 

Those words were all Cas needed to hear before his seed shot out all over the sheets and he was moaning through his makeshift gag. 

“Oh, there we go. Fuck, that’s a good boy,” Dean praised, delivering his final thrusts before Cas felt his hole fill with Dean’s seed. “Fuuuck,” he moaned, giving Cas everything he had to offer before collapsing on top of him. He slowly rolled himself off of him, a whimper coming from Cas as he pulled out, his cum dripping out of Cas’s hole. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like that,” Dean commented, taking a good look at the angel’s ass before getting up from the bed and finding his discarded pants on the floor, putting them back on. “If you ever want to do that again sometime… I’ll be around,” he smirked, and with that, he was out the door before Cas could even turn his head to say goodbye.

#destiel smut #dean winchester x cas #demon dean winchester x cas #destiel #dean x cas #dean x cas smut