#I have not once seen him in something where he has sported a beard like that. or probably it's a director/showrunner choice | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelettesassemblenow · 2 years ago

Note

Hey!! Hope you're doing great💗 so here's my request; college lovers get apart and meet again after years only to realise that they never truly move on from each other. Love was still there, even years apart. Something like that (intense love, romantic) with Steve pleaseee (I'm a sucker for romance)

And, its totally upto you if you want to write it or not.❤💖

Love and hugs❤😘

Pairing: Steve x female Reader

Summary: When Steve and you see each other again after years apart the question is – will you get a second chance at love?

Warnings: mentions of throwing up, a little bit of angst, so much fluff and a happy end!

Word Count: ~2.9k

A/N: It doesn’t have a lot of college Steve in it, but I still hope you enjoy it. I had fun writing it, so thank you for trusting me with that request

“I’ll just use the bathroom real quick,” your date excused himself and you nodded and smiled at him. It was your second date and he was nice. But that was all there was. He was nice and asked about you, told you about himself. And as the first date had not been excited or anything there was no reason for you to say no to a second one. There doesn’t have to be sparks or anything. That has only happened once.

While you were picking at something on the tablecloth a shadow fell over you and you heard your name. When you looked up you saw someone you hadn’t seen in a long time. “Bucky! What are you doing here?” You got up on your feet and wrapped him in a hug immediately. It had been years since you saw him last and while he looked older, he also kind of looked the same. You wondered if he thought the same.

“How are you?” you asked and took a step back to get a better look at him.

“I’m good, I’m good,” his warm voice assured you. “You here on a date?” His head made a mention towards the table where he spotted the second plate that was still displayed on the table.

Before you could reply someone else came closer. “Ugh someone stole my parking spot, I had to take an extra tu...” The last word never left his lips as the newcomer spotted you. Again you asked yourself if you looked okay, but this time for totally different reasons.

“Steve?” you asked almost breathless while he did the same with your name. “Wow, it’s been a while.” That was all you could say. If Steve wouldn’t have been standing next to Bucky you wouldn’t have made the connection that quickly. The Steve you knew had been skinny with paint all over his fingers, sometimes behind his ear and in his hair. In his pockets were often pencils and the shirts he decided to wear were too big. Some people said he was lacking; they didn’t even spare him a second glance but to you he had always been beautiful.

They had never seen the passion in his eyes when he talked about his art or specific colors. They had never seen how he looked at you, how beautiful he looked when he was asleep. They had never looked close enough. But now you were sure that no one would overlook him anymore.

In his hair were little droplets of rain that started to fall on the cloak he was wearing. The jacket was open and under his blue shirt were muscles that you could clearly see. His face was sporting a short beard and his beautiful eyes were still framed by his long lashes. And the way he looked at you, like he couldn’t believe that you were standing in front of him.

You were pulled from your bubble when another person came back towards the table. You introduced your date to Bucky and Steve and while you called them friends from college it felt more than wrong. The both of them excused themselves and you couldn’t help but to follow them with your eyes when they walked towards a table.

The rest of your date you couldn’t concentrate on the man in front of you. When you asked for the check the waiter informed you that it had already been taken care of. You date looked as surprised as you so you asked who did it. “Mr. Barnes took care of it. He said he hoped that you enjoyed your dinner and evening.”

Before you grabbed your jacket you told your date you would go over and say a quick thank you.

“You didn’t have to pay for anything,” you told Bucky once you reached his table.

“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to,” he replied.

“Why?” You were confused.

“This is my restaurant, doll.” Bucky's confidence was rolling off of him.

“So you made it? Buck, I’m so proud of you!” You meant every word you said! “I, uh... I actually have to go, but I would love to catch up.” There was a reason for you to focus on Bucky and not the man in front of him, although you felt his gaze linger on you. A minute later Bucky added you on Instagram and you wished both men a nice night before you joined the man you came with at the door and left the restaurant. You couldn’t help but look back and catch the gaze of Steve.

“Who would have guessed,” Bucky said after a while when he and Steve had watched you leaving. “She looks good.” Bucky and Steve had been friends since they were children. Sometimes it felt as if they didn’t even need words to get the other.

“She always has,” Steve agreed, his voice still quiet as he was still processing that he had seen you again. “She was on a date though.” He finally looked at his friend and wondered why he was smirking.

“She was,” he agreed. “But she looked over here so often I bet she forgot who was sitting in front of her. And I took care of the check, so another thing where he couldn’t get plus points. And she didn’t introduce him as her boyfriend, there is still hope.” A notification on his phone was shown. “My friend request was also just accepted. I’ll check out her pictures then.” Suddenly his eyes widened.

“What is it? Oh come let me see,” Steve said and tried to grab the phone from Bucky's hands, but the brunette held it out of his reach.

“Well don’t be a coward and send her a request too! I promise you it won’t take more than 10 seconds for her to accept it.”

What other choice did Steve have than to send you one, because he did want to see what you were up to and what made his friend react in that way. After checking in with the other man that he had the right username, he would never tell that it did take only 8 seconds for you to accept and that you followed him back immediately.

“Was she in Paris last month?” Steve gasps once he saw the last photo you posted. It was a typical picture taken in front of the Eifel tower. On his page was the matching picture, taken two days before the date on your picture. He was still staring at you, your smile still captured him the way it used to years ago. HIs heart was beating fast and he felt like he couldn’t take a bite of the food that was just delivered to their table. When he saw your name pop up, he looked nervous. “I think I need to throw up,” he confided.

“Don’t do it here, people will think it’s the food and the restaurant is still new. I don’t need rumors of people throwing up here.” Bucky brought him a water from the bar and in the end the food was wasted as Steve couldn’t stomach much. But on the bright side he started chatting with you.

Commenting on each other's pictures lead to conversations via direct messages until you finally exchanged numbers and started writing there. You mornings were now filled with good morning messages, updates around your day and many more. It didn’t take long until you decided to meet each other – under the disguise as catching up with Bucky. Your talks didn’t include mentions about how fast your heart was beating when you talked or the smile that took over your face once you saw his name on your device, or how close you once were and how you should act now.

You were trying to calm down before you pressed the doorbell when you heard your name being called. Bucky walked towards you and you took one bag from his hand as he was holding three of them. “So glad you could make it! Steve wouldn’t stop talking about you, just like old times, huh?” He tried to nudge you with his elbow but you stepped aside and he almost lost one bag, before he gave up and rang the doorbell himself.

An elevator took the both of you upstairs and the Bucky lead you towards an apartment. Steve greeted you at the door. He took you into his arms and it was the first physical touch you had in years. And as cliché as it sounded: you felt at home. You always had that feeling with Steve. It didn’t matter that his appearance had changed. You had felt safe and cared for when his thin arms were around you and you felt it now. Unwillingly you stepped back when you knew you had overstayed your welcome and you followed Bucky inside. Steves apartment was bright. Bright almost white walls with huge windows in it. A few canvases were in front of the window, a lot of them were standing against the wall. On the other side of the room was an open kitchen where Bucky was making himself at home. In the last corner of the room was Steves bed (neatly made, which shocked you as it had been always a mess in college!) almost hiding behind a shelf that was full of books. Some of the covers you recognized immediately and it made you smirk until your gaze landed on one painting at the wall.

“You still have that?” you asked confused. Why would he still have that painting here?

“Of course, this is one of my favorites,” Steve answered from behind you.

“I bet the ladies aren't fond of it once you tell them that you have a painting of your college girlfriend in here,” you muttered. Steve had asked you to paint you. This was the first time you had said yes. It wasn’t like someone would recognize you as he had painted your side when you had sat in front of a window. The painting was beautiful and had so many memories – that was also the reason why Steve had it always hung up in his places.

Bucky interrupted the moment and you helped prepare something while he did the cooking.

“Who would have guessed that we would be here together after all this time. Steve told me you’re an author. This has always been your dream. Steve really is a painter and I’m owning a restaurant. The only person who believed in everything was you.” He stopped chopping and went towards you. “If you wouldn’t have pushed me, I would have listened to everyone else and would have tried sports. I wouldn’t be as happy as I am now, so thanks doll.” He kissed the side of your head.

“What kind of books did you write?” Steve asked and Bucky took it as his sign to move away. You had always been Steves girl, there had been no doubt about it and he would have never made a move on you. Bucky had always been protective about his then smaller friend and when Steve told him he had met someone he had been skeptical. But then he met you and saw the connection between the two of you. He saw how much you cared for Steve and the other way around. You were over at their place so often you felt like you lived there too and you always encouraged the boys to pursue their dream. That was also the reason why you told Steve he should go once he got the opportunity to get a scholarship at one of the best school of arts. It broke your heart, it broke Steves heart and it broke also Bucky's heart - who had to watch both of his friends in so much pain. When he and Steve stayed in contact, they never talked about you, but once Steve moved back you came up once in a while and he just knew his friend never really moved on. He had been in relationships, but Bucky could tell they wouldn’t last of the way Steve would talk about them.

Bucky had stayed in contact with you when Steve moved for a while, but then life came in the way and then you just lost touch. But he saw how Steve was still looking at you and the daggers he threw his way when his lips had touched your skin. He knew it was time to step away. Steve’s voice pulled him back to the present. “I would have picked it up if I would have seen your name. Where can I get it?”

Your laughter filled the room. “Oh, you already have my books,” you laughed and Bucky and Steve shared a confused look. “I see them standing on your shelf,” you pointed out and when Steve still looked confused you walked towards it and pulled a book out of it. “This is mine. I just don’t write under my name, I have a pseudonym.”

“No way that this is yours! I have the first book since it came out and I’m hooked! It actually inspired a painting of mine,” Steve exclaimed and it made you laugh again, only quieter this time.

“Guess I’ve always been your muse then.” The thing with Steve was he always made you feel confident and this was the only explanation you had for your bold statement.

“That’s true,” Steve confirmed and you didn’t know where to look at anymore.

“So, want me to sign it?” you offered. The tension left after that and just when Bucky placed the plates on the table and you complimented how good it looked, he took a look at his phone and said there was an emergency at the restaurant and he had to leave. He told you to enjoy the meal and left the apartment in a rush. It wasn’t until later that you’d notice that he had only prepared 2 plates anyway.

Talking to Steve was like... there wasn’t a way to describe it. You felt comfortable, like you could tell him anything you wanted and you knew he wouldn’t judge you. “Oh and remember the night we went to Bucky's game and he ditched us? We had to walk back home and it poured. You were so mad at him,” he laughed when he thought back at the time, but then stopped. Because you were sure you both remembered the same thing then. Both of you had been cold when you had arrived at Steve’s and Bucky’s place and Steve had forced you to take a hot shower first. You had argued until you decided you’d just go in together. It had also been the first time that Steve had felt comfortable enough to show you himself and in the end the both of you shared so much intimacy.

Your relationship grew after that and when Steve left it felt he took a part of you with him. But you couldn’t tell him to stay, it would have made you a hypocrite as you were always telling him he should follow his dreams.

“Sometimes I wish I could turn back time and stay, but then again, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. And maybe this was supposed to be this way, finding you again. I mean if you’re up for it, we could try,” he wasn’t even able to finish his sentence as you interrupted him with a yes.

“It’s always been you, Steve! Every relationship I compared to ours and it never felt that way, there was always something missing and I would be more than happy to see where this goes. If it still feels that way.”

A few months later you grabbed Steve’s hand nervously. You were travelling on your book tour and Steve accompanied you because he rarely left your side anyway. It was not clingy, but the both of you felt the need to make up for the time you lost. Steve was also invited as your book got a new cover – made by your boyfriend.

Steve who had never done anything like that before was almost offended that someone other than him would do the art for your book. He had been there when you were plotting, he had offered an ear when you were stuck and in his mind a cover was already created. And so you were surprised when he showed you what he had thought of one day. It was brilliant, you were in love and touched and so no one had a chance to decline the change in the style. Steve even offered that he would do some for the first books too so they would match as he had fun creating it. It was a different kind of pressure and it made him even better.

Maybe it was also because he made it for you. You had inspired so much of his art without knowing it. One day he would show it to you, but for now he was content standing next to you, holding your hand and waiting for the bookseller to announce your name (or more like your pseudonym) and watching you on the stage, reading one of your favorite passages.

It felt like his heart grew twice the size to stuff his love for you in it. Somehow having you around the second time felt even better and Steve knew he would never let you go again.

If you made it this far: comments, asks, reblogs mean the world <3

Masterlist | Library Blog

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x you #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers fanfiction

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vital-spirit · 6 months ago

Text

OFFSCREEN POST

Spirit Talk: Part One

Boltund weaved through the crowd, excitedly babbling about the place. Certain restaurants she liked to “dine” at, what stores she frequents, and all sorts of other information about the place. Way too much information to do much with over the span of the few days they’d be staying here. She’d introduced Lucario and Bingo to NUMEROUS of her friends, but yet still she had more. “And this–,” Boltund said, carefully climbing a set of stairs onto a raised platform, “–is the one and only train station. This is where you catch the train straight to the afterlife!”

“Ooh.” The Lillipup clumsily climbed up after her, still not quite used to seeing those who should be beyond her sight as her gaze swept across all the spirits that were gathered around for the train. “Fascinatin’.”

None of the ghosts stood out to Bingo, besides the fact that some showed clearer signs of how they died compared to others, though one Pokemon did catch her eye as they stood near one of the entrances of the train and helped the deceased board with a cheery smile.

A Typhlosion.

Their fur had a purple tint to it along with their magenta flames swirling in the air around their neck. The Pokemon sported a deep purple vest with a pocket watch in one of their paws and a conductor's hat atop their head. The cheery fellow seemed preoccupied as he gathered the spirits and guided them through the doors, slowly but surely thinning out the crowd until there was barely anyone else on the platform besides him, Boltund, Lucario, and Bingo.

Once the train began to leave the station, Boltund wasted no time excitedly walking up to the Typhlosion. “Typhlosion! Typhlosion! Come here! I got people to show ya!”

The sharply dressed Pokemon in question turned at the sound of Boltund’s voice, tipping his hat with a smile as he approached the small group, “Well if it ain’t Boltund, who’s this ya’ gotta show me?”

Bingo’s nose twitched in curiosity staring up at the larger Pokemon, something was strange about this Typhlosion but she couldn’t quite put her paw on it.

“This,” Boltund said, pointing at Lucario who stood a good distance away, “Is my son! The one I said was…” She pauses, considering her words carefully “A son!” Lucario awkwardly waves. “And this is my grandchild!” She literally picks up Bingo. Not scruffing her, no. With her paws.

Typhlosion nodded at Lucario in greeting, opting not to say anything to him and instead turning his attention to the Lillipup being lifted up towards him, “A grandchild…” He mumbled before smiling at Bingo, “Nice to meet ya’, kiddo!”

The Lillipup gave a small wave with her paw as she dangled there in Boltund’s grasp. This was the seventh time she has been picked up today by the older Pokemon.

“Hiya…” She mumbled, having grown tired of fighting the title of “grandchild”.

“Oh, y’know what, Boltund. Braviary would love to meet…” Typhlosion looks at Lucario before quickly looking back at Boltund, “The youngin’s!”

The conductor looked up towards the rafters of the train station, waving towards a ghostly figure in the darkness, “Oi! Braviary, c’mere and meet Boltund’s kid and grandbaby!”

The ghostly figure shifts on the wooden beam, perking up at the call for his attention before spreading his wings and lifting off from his perch and swiftly diving down towards the group in one fell swoop and landing in front of them with a hard THUD!

After a moment the Braviary stood tall, ghostly flames dancing upon his body with scars riddling the front of his body, two of his crest feathers flopping to the sides of his face while his head feathers were slicked back against his skull with a feather beard beneath his chin.

Braviary stared at the group, his eyes unreadable for just a second before a warm smile crossed his face, “Well, howdy.”

Lucario’s eyes go wide. It’s not just any Braviary. It’s THE Braviary. With how many times he’d seen the countless statues and carvings spread all around The Guild and Harbor Town itself, Lucario could easily recognize the man despite never having met him before. Bro is flabbergasted. Boltund on the other hand, is not.

Finding him via scent, she holds Bingo up to him. “Braviary! Look at my Grandbaby!”

Part One: Scene End.

#pkmn irl #pokeblog rp #rotomblr #the story thus far #pmd irl #desert whispers #offscreen post #the middle of nowhere

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glwstic · 2 years ago

Text

Rec List 6: The Witcher

- Lost in Translation by notebooksandlaptops

“Are you alright?” Jaskier asks. He’s been dragged outside again during the middle of one of his sets. That’s fine. He was almost expecting it. Geralt has become a little bit predictable, and a bad mood usually means he’ll want a quick pick me up at some point.

“I will be in a moment,” Geralt growls, and he pushes Jaskier up against the wall.

And it's fine. Normal. New normal. Jaskier goes and he goes happily and willingly. But there’s something that is tugging on his mind, something that aches.

He doesn’t put his finger on it until afterwards. “You really will have to start being more patient. I do need to make a living – and you dragging me away in the middle of my songs all the time is bad for business.”

Geralt gives a chuckle, “you’re saving money on the whorehouses, are you not?”

And oh.

Geralt is using him for sex.

-///-

Or, Jaskier and Geralt start having regular sex. Jaskier thinks it doesn't mean as much to Geralt as it does to him. He's wrong.

Oneshot, 3,639 words

- Five people who don't listen to Jaskier (and one person who always does) by notebooksandlaptops

Jaskier was all too aware of the titles he’d accumulated over the years.

Jaskier: Greatest Bard on the continent, friend and companion to the White Wolf, Master of the Seven Liberal Arts, renowned Professor of the grand Oxenfurt Academy, considerate, heartfelt lover and, ultimately, when it came down to it, a right annoying prick.

“Fucking bard,” the innkeeper muttered under his breath, for once far more perturbed by Jaskier’s presence than by the Witcher who stood behind him, “do you ever stop talking?”

-///-

Or, Five people who don't listen to Jaskier (and one person who always does)

Oneshot, 4,126 words

- Loose Tongues & Blue Dresses by notebooksandlaptops

Let it never be said that Jaskier is useless. Perhaps he can't wield a sword like Geralt, perhaps he can't do magic like Yennefer, but he has his own set of skills that are equally vital when it comes to winning this war.

And Jaskier was rather enjoying this role if he did say so himself. Perhaps it was a little unpleasant to have the Kings filthy hands all over him but the silks and finery, the dresses and the makeup, finally getting to put his long hair to good use, getting to shave off that awful beard he’d been sporting?

Definitely fun.

-///-

Or, the one where Jaskier wears a dress in order to infiltrate a court

Oneshot, 10,231 words

- No Marks by didoandis

Geralt feels his stomach turn. “Tell me what happened,” he growls. Because something happened in this room. Something bad.

“You don’t know?” the mage says. “I suppose I’m not surprised. He was very keen that you didn’t find out. That was the only thing he insisted on, no marks.”

Geralt glares at him. The mage looks back, unperturbed. “Don’t scowl at me like that, beast. Everything I did was agreed to.”

Jaskier would do anything for Geralt.

Oneshot, 13,703 words

- Monsters by didoandis

The girl is young, earnest and a little scared. “Do you kill monsters if they’re human?” she asks abruptly.

Geralt nods at her to sit down, looking around him to check if anyone’s listening. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”

“There’s a woman,” the girl whispers, leaning forward over the table. “Rich. Powerful. She collects people. And when she takes a fancy to someone, they’re never seen again.”

Jaskier gets taken apart. Geralt works to put him back together.

Oneshot, 16,245 words

- A Kept Man by didoandis

Jaskier’s eyes are sliding closed. He should leave. He should know, by now, not to outstay his welcome. But Geralt’s hand has come down to rest on his forehead, a thumb stroking into his hair. And just like always, he’s too weak to resist.

Five times Jaskier didn’t have a choice about staying and one time he did.

2/2 Completed, 18,022 words

- Lessons in Losing by didoandis

“We met five years ago or thereabouts,” Geralt says through gritted teeth. “You came up to me in a tavern near Posada, decided I would be good song material, and we’ve travelled together, off and on, ever since.”

“Huh,” Jaskier says.

“You remember?” Geralt tries to keep the note of hope out of his voice, and doubts he’s been successful.

“Not in the slightest,” Jaskier says cheerfully. “But I must admit it sounds like something I’d do.”

When Jaskier forgets their life together, Geralt learns an unexpected lesson.

Oneshot, 11,270 words

- Chivalry by didoandis

“What was it this time, bard?” Geralt asks.

“Chivalry,” Jaskier tells him, loftily, and then the rope is cut and Jaskier’s feet hit the ground, jarring his body all the way up to his aching shoulders, and he passes out.

Jaskier makes an enemy. Geralt comes to his rescue. Must be a Tuesday.

Oneshot, 1,343 words

- In the Deep Dark Hills by didoandis

“You’re making a mistake,” Jaskier says. “Trust me – I’ll be watching Geralt rip out your intestines before all this is over. I’ve seen it before. It’s not pretty.” He draws himself up, shows his teeth. If this is going to go badly, he intends to be as difficult as possible about it.

The alderman glares at him. “Enough of this,” he says, commanding; there’s a heavy dull thud at the back of Jaskier’s head, and a brief burst of pain, and then blackness.

When Geralt is late returning from a hunt, Jaskier’s the one who suffers for it. Things get worse before they get better.

Oneshot, 11,656 words

- Gift by SeelieSkelliger

"So, you must be Geralt’s bard.”

There came a hollow chuckle in response. “Once upon a time, perhaps. Now, I don’t know what I am. Probably at best I’m an annoyance, more likely I’m a burden.” Jaskier was staring at the floor near his feet, so he missed the soft look Vesemir gave him before sitting at the foot of the bed.

“You brought Ciri back here safely. After you started travelling with him, Geralt finally seemed to be alive again when he would come back here for the winter. Your songs have made all our lives better. I would not call you a burden, bard. I would say your presence in our lives has been a gift.”

Written for Witcher Bows & Arrows event 2022 - Day 4 prompt: Gift This story follows on from yesterday's fic, 'Sacrifice', but you can read it as a standalone. Jaskier struggles to work out where he fits in, featuring soft Vesemir and sweet Yen.

Oneshot, 1,388 words

#the witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher fic rec #the witcher rec #the witcher fanfic #jaskier #witcher jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier x yennefer #yennefer x jaskier #geralt #witcher geralt #geralt of rivera #yennefer #witcher yennefer #geralt x yennefer #angst #smut #fluff

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switch · 2 years ago

Note

For the fate character thing: Moriarty and Vlad just bc I like hearing you talk about them

oh boy you're not getting any prompts skipped with this one! it's gonna be a long one.

Vlad:

favorite thing about them

everything. he's tall, he's 45, the eyeshadow, the eyelashes, the beard, the hair, the skirt, the thigh high boots, the cool tattoos, the aquiline nose, the turtleneck, the pointy teeth, the earrings, the fluff, the deep voice, the chest window that one time, the sewing thing, he's tsundere, he's scary, he's smug, he's cool, he's weird, he's cute, he has incredibly unique lore, he has fun gameplay, i have never loved any character more than i love vlad.

least favorite thing about them

HIS SPRITE SUCKS AAAAUGH I COME TO WORK AND I HAVE TO LOOK AT THIS MESS

favorite line

the legendary,

brOTP

vlad and tamamo, vlad and siegfried, vlad and shakespeare, vlad and moriarty, vlad and crane, vlad and carmilla... vlad needs more people to hang out with...

OTP

vlad and male mc........... and vladcha.......

that aside, i've also enjoyed vlad x siegfried and vlad x georgio. those are cute.

nOTP

i'm going to hunt darnic for sport. also, not a fan of him x carm, considering... his uncle-niece relationship with liz. but, i do also get that some people really don't like fgo mashing carm and liz together and prefer to interpret them separately, which is fair enough. just not my thing. i prefer their relationship as familial, i think it's nice.

random headcanon

he hangs out in mc's shadow a lot (based on his quick card animation i feel like he should be able to do something like that, i've seen other servants interpreted as being able to do this as well).

unpopular opinion

he's best husband

song i associate with them

WOE, CHARACTER PLAYLIST BE UPON YE

favorite picture of them

that's really difficult. there are a lot of very different, but still good vlads. honestly, maybe just his ascension 3 art if i had to pick one?

i mean, this is the vlad i see every day in fgo. that's my husband right there.

Moriarty:

favorite thing about them

once again pretty much everything. he's 50, the mustache, the eyeliner, the eyelashes, the glasses, the cool cape, i like how his outfit blends fantasy elements without being too made-up, ulysses butterflies are my favorite, the military touches are neat, he has pointy teeth for no reason, how deep his voice can get, the RAITA hands, the black gloves, the shoes, the skirt-apron thing in gray collar, the coffin, he's funny, he's cool, he's evil, he's weird, he's smug. he represents a real high point in FGO with shinjuku.

least favorite thing about them

do i even have to say it. well, he's pretty much in joke character hell now, his sprite is really outdated, and his kit is awful to play with. sigh. eh well.

favorite line

where do i even start lmao

brOTP

i don't think anyone actually really likes him but moriarty and vlad, moriarty and shakespeare, moriarty and babbage

OTP

moriarty and male mc. again. what do you want from me. and vladcha. leave me alone.

i've also enjoyed moriarty and moran. people have to make up their own moran for this one, though.

nOTP

it's not a proper "nOTP" as the kids would call it, but (and i must stress that this is my great mouse detective bias showing) i prefer moriarty and sherlock having a sort of "bitter exes" dynamic (even if they were never actually involved) instead of romantically pairing them.

for one thing i just think it's really funny, but also i do find the idea of moriarty trying to "get over" someone he was literally made to exist around compelling, and i think especially post-shinjuku makes that another viable route to take with his character.

random headcanon

autism.

unpopular opinion

they really need to let him be more evil again instead of just the funny endearing dad the audience likes. i get that there's only so much he can get away with in chaldea but come onnn they've been doing this for years now, i'm worried the writers are gonna forget at this point. i want him to do something fucked up again. i miss it. him caring about mc does not inherently preclude him from doing something fucked up.

song i associate with them

ditto, character playlist

favorite picture of them

that's also really tough since he has a LOT of official art. probably a tie between Eyelashes Book Cover VS Gray Collar Fuckhands

#switch speaks #fate #moriarty #vlad

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musecaravan-info · 1 year ago

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Carradoc Ilar Vaughn

"The earth laughs in flowers." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~

Basic Information

FACE/BODY CLAIM: Gwilym Lee

AGE: OLD - but looks like late 20s/early 30s

EYES: Deep Blue

HAIR: Soft Brown; usually short and well-kept; Usually have a closely-shaved beard/mustache, as well

HEIGHT: 6'2

PRIMARY OUTFIT: Carr's modern look tends to border on 'hipster.' He wears plaid and sweaters and skinny jeans - usually in neutral/homey colors. He also usually has glasses - his vision's never quite recovered from the attack all those centuries ago.

Personality

You know that meme about all the different cinnamon rolls? He is definitely 'looks like a cinnamon roll, but could actually kill you.' Not that he would unless you intentionally threatened his clutch. Beyond that, he's open and friendly to just about everyone - even if that friendliness isn't returned. He tries very hard to always believe the best of people, but only to a degree. After all, he has a promise to keep and a clutch to protect. Those things ALWAYS come first for Carr.

Powers & Weaknesses

To avoid repetition, Go Here

Romance

Being the kind of person he is, caring for others comes easily to Carradoc. Romance on its own is easy for him, and he's likely to welcome anyone who displays that kind of interest (if he feels the same.) However, actual intimacy is on an entirely different level. To allow that, it would likely have to be someone he cares about just as much as he cares about his clutch. And that could only happen with trust and time.

Where to Find Him

The most obvious place is his flower shop. However, it's possible he could be found out the the forest gathering various supplies he can't grow himself, etc. Or maybe in a nearby park? Coffee shops are also possible. Dragons like coffee... or this dragon does. ;) Or perhaps any occasion where someone might've ordered flower arrangements - a party/wedding/funeral/etc.

Verses

Just because a verse isn't listed here doesn't mean I'm not interested in writing it. I adore all kinds of AUs, and welcome the chance to get creative with my muses. If you've seen a verse that another of my muses has, and you'd like to see this muse in something similar, let me know. You can also check out my 'Plot Ideas' tag, too. ^_^

Main Verse:

In Carradoc’s clan, every dragon had their specific duties. His duty was special -revered- and he didn’t have to earn it or even fight for it. His job was the result of his unique genetic condition - he was born with fully developed and fully functional male and female sex organs. As far as the clan was concerned, it made him (and several other dragons with similar genetics) perfect candidates for guarding over the eggs while they hatched, and raising the younglings after being born.

Carradoc always took his job with the utmost seriousness. He loved looking after the eggs, and helping the younglings to learn about their way of life. But then his clan - the last in Wales - was attacked by humans…humans with magic. When their Queen finally realized they were going to lose, she ordered Carradoc and the other clutch caretakers to rescue as many eggs as they could and flee. He was the only one that survived…and only just barely. He sports a long, jagged scar on his back which starts on his left shoulder and stretches diagonally all the way down to just below his right hip. One of his wings was permanently damaged, and flying causes him immense pain.

Now, in the modern age, Carradoc watches and waits. When will the eggs hatch? He doesn’t know. In the chaos of escape, he paid no attention to such things; he only grabbed what he could carry and fled. He fears that even once the younglings are born, he won’t be able to raise them properly in this technological world. But he knows he has to try. Until then, the dragon runs a quaint floral and herbs shop to pass the time. He tries to keep a low profile - and live a ‘normal’ human life. Typically he is soft spoken and well-mannered, but make no mistake if you so much as hint ay a threat to his eggs, you’ll see a side of him that will leave you quivering in fear. He will do whatever it takes to protect the clutch.

Historical Verses

Carradoc has been around for quite awhile. If you'd like to RP with him in something other than a modern timeline just ask. I'll be happy to plan something out with you.

Fantasy Verses

While Carradoc isn't a fandom OC, I'm happy to put him in a specific fandom if that's where your muse comes from. Just talk to me about it, and we can try to figure out how to make it work.

Current/Ongoing Threads

If your thread with Carradoc isn't listed here it's probably because it's been long enough since your last reply that I thought you'd dropped it. Message me to let me know you're still interested, and I'll happily add you to the list (with no pressure for a reply.) ♡

Liv:

Hocus Pocus Magic Potions (Dresden!Verse)

Sophia:

Not As It Appears (Historical!AU)

Stuff That's Good to Know Before Starting a Thread

Carradoc has a massive scar on his back that spans from one shoulder diagonally down to just below his hip on the opposite side. It's a magical wound and the scar always looks (and feels) like it's freshly healed. In his human form he usually hides it and accepts the pain and twinges. In his dragon form, he's lost the ability to fly. He still has his wings, but the act of trying to lift himself up off the ground is excruciating. It's possible the pain he's in will be shown, or thought about, or mentioned in passing in almost any RP. How much you have your muse know/react to that magical injury is entirely up to you. :)

Normally, Carradoc is taking care of 5 unhatched dragon eggs. Our RP doesn't have to revolve around the eggs hatching... but it can if that's a plot that interests you.

If we're writing in a verse where Carradoc is human, he will ALWAYS be a single father of six. Yes. SIX. (One of the eggs has twins inside, which is SUPER rare for dragons.)

I'm not really keen on any plots where any of the eggs get destroyed. That would literally RUIN Carr, and I'm not willing to do that amount of damage to his psyche.

Links

Please keep in mind, this blog is an ongoing work in progress. Not all of these links may lead somewhere, but they're here because they link to potential tags for this muse.

All Things Carradoc

Headcanons

Drabbles

All Threads

Ask Replies

Meme Replies

Aesthetics

Face

Special Links

Original Blog

Carradoc's Home

Carradoc's Kids

Return To Full Muse List

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the-hem · 2 years ago

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"Not-Atman Part 2." From the Tejo-Bindu Upanishad. "A drop of glory."

The Upanishads say once we learn something we cannot unlearn it, having not learned the unknowable, will not find a way to know it.

Every virgin wants to do a muff dive on his friend in the locker room, then fantasizes about it again and again once his desire has a satisfaction component. There is no going back. Try getting a teenager who has discovered Grindr back on task with his homework or eating his dinner or doing anything, anything at all!

I speak from experience.

I am glad these things did not exist when I was growing up. I would have been hopelessly distracted.

Adults have always had a version called faith. Except with faith, there are no butt or dic pics in the personal ad, but there are plenty of outrageous statistics, the kind that get us raging hard with promises of simply outrageously good times that last and last.

Unlike a hook up app however, if you message, no one will respond when you type, "Hey, how is your day going?" in the chat box.

It's not like you're undesirable...there simply is no one there, there never will be. The person you are looking for does not exist. Personal ads like this are written and placed by numnuts who are trying to lure people in and keep them hanging on to get their monthly subscription fee, addicting them to the unknown with really promising personal stats.

God and His Son are not to be found in the words on a page, the chanting and ranting of bug-eyed crazy, drooling mad pundits, or faith in thousands of years of tradition. These are not God.

He can only be found out in the open using the five senses backed up by superior intelligence and refined experiences.

Before even these, there must be a desire that anticipates knowing Him that is similar to the virgin being depantsing his friend for the first time, for real.

There has to be desire-satisfaction and from thence a more sophisticated pattern of repeat intercoursing with reality becomes possible.

God does not resemble a bearded man in a bedsheet. He does not hang there all day long, bleeding in agony and sympathy for a wayward and weird lost humanity that spends its time on so many truly dull and ridiculous things.

Never once have we seen a luminous silhouette of a person drift skyward after death, not once has human history recorded evidence of an eternal Malibu Barbie Windsor Castle where all the beautiful people drive sports cars and listen to tunes all day long by the pool.

All these are stunningly beautiful delusions, posted online and elsewhere to lure in virgins who want to know what its like, but never ever do and never will. At some point in time the longing should be satisfied knowing it will not be satisfied.

Real religion provides the means for satisfaction that the desire to know the nature of the hidden truth can be accomplished. Jesus said sell all you have, it's very hard to entertain the desire to accumulate and appreciate what is already there.

And we may not appreciate it all that much, but the desire to know what it is will help, as the Upanishad says, to find the Grace we need to make it better.

This, and this alone is what we need to desire, how Grace and stark realness work together to create this world if we want direct experience of what it means to be a real live human being that was made by the Living God.

Emancipation from all else as the Christ said is a must, and He was not a hypocrite, this He demonstrated and then spoke:

Matthew 4:1-11

At that time Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. He fasted for forty days and forty nights and afterwards was hungry. The tempter approached and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread. He said in reply, “It is written: One does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.”

Freedom from temptation, from the desire to chase the wind, has to come before realization of God and this work only if a desire to know Him in truth, just as He is, is forthcoming:

24. If bondage should become emancipation, then in the absence of bondage will be no emancipation. If birth should imply death, then in the absence of birth, there is no death.

25. If ‘thou’ should imply ‘I’, then in the absence of ‘thou’ there is no ‘I’. If ‘this’ should be ‘that’, ‘this’ does not exist in the absence of ‘that’.

26. If being should imply non-being, then non-being will imply being. If an effect implies a cause, then in the absence of effect, there is no cause.

27. If duality implies non-duality, then in the absence of duality, there is no non-duality. If there should be the seen, then there is the eye (or sight); in the absence of the seen, there is no eye.

28. In the absence of the interior, there is no exterior. If there should be fullness, then non-fullness is possible. Therefore (all) this exists nowhere.

29. Neither you nor I, nor this nor these exist. There exists no (object of) comparison in the true one.

30. There is no simile in the unborn. There is (in it) no mind to think. I am the supreme Brahman. This world is Brahman only. Thou and I are Brahman only.

31. I am Chinmatra "pure thought" simply and there is no not-Atman. Rest assured of it. This universe is not (really at all). This universe is not (really) at all. It was nowhere produced and stays nowhere.

32. Some say that Chitta "reflection" is the universe. Not at all. It exists not. Neither the universe nor Chitta nor Ahankara "individuation" nor Jiva "ego" exists (really).

33-34. Neither the creation of Maya (delusion) nor Maya itself exists (really). Fear does not (really) exist. Actor, action, hearing, thinking, the two Samadhis "states of calmness", the measurer, the measure, Ajnana "ignorance" and Aviveka "indiscretion"– none of these exists (truly) anywhere.

35-38. Therefore the four moving considerations and the three kinds of relationship exist not. There is no Ganga "river", no Gaya "earth", no Setu (bridge), no elements or anything else, no earth, water, fire, Vayu (wind) and Akasa (the firmament) anywhere, no Devas (angels), no guardians of the four quarters, no Vedas, no Guru, no distance, no proximity, no time, no middle, no non-duality, no truth, no untruth, no bondage, no emancipation, no Sat (this), no Asat (emptiness), no happiness, etc., no class, no motion, no caste and no worldly business.

39. All is Brahman only and nothing else – all is Brahman only and nothing else. There exists then nothing (or Statement) as that ‘consciousness alone is’; there is (then) no saying such as ‘Chit is I’.

40-41. The statement ‘I am Brahman’ does not exist (then); nor does exist (then) the statement: ‘I am the eternally pure’. Whatever is uttered by the mouth, whatever is thought by Manas (the mind), whatever is determined by Buddhi (intellect), whatever is cognised by Chitta – all these not exist. There is no Yogin or Yoga then. All are and are not.

42. Neither day nor night, neither bathing nor contemplating, neither delusion nor non-delusion – all these do not exist then. Know that is no not-Atman.

No they are not Atman, knowledge and experience of Self. There simply are no possibilities for this to ever be true. Whatever is found and lost, or never to be found at all, none of these are aspects of the Supreme. Comprehend ye this and He can be found, never to be unkown again, forgotten or replaced.

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captainkirkk · 3 years ago

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

The Witcher

Loose Tongues & Blue Dresses by notebooksandlaptops

Definitely fun.

(Or, the one where Jaskier wears a dress in order to infiltrate a court.)

Your Highness, Our Idiot by notebooksandlaptops

Jaskier really should have told them before all this. He should have sat them down and explained his past, his history, and exactly what walking into that banquet hall would entail.

But he hadn't. And now, here they were.

Or: Jaskier takes Geralt and Yennefer to meet his parents, which goes about as well as you can expect when Jaskier himself hasn't seen them for years - oh, and did he forget to mention his parents are the King and Queen of a small kingdom?

Star Wars

first choice by smilebackwards

“Hey, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said. There was a repeating sound behind him that Obi-Wan recognized as cannon fire. “Which battalion are you with now?”

“I haven’t been selected at present,” Obi-Wan said, feeling the prick of shame.

“What?” Anakin squawked, offended. “No one’s picked you yet?”

Or: The AU where the clones get to pick their generals and Obi-Wan is, once again, left feeling unwanted. But is he really?

A Most Elegant Dinner Party by Maddy_B

You're not… cooking, are you?" asked Obi-Wan warily.

"No! Of course not!" she said cheerfully, dusting her hands off on the apron she was wearing. "You know I'm not allowed to cook Obi-Wan, don't be ridiculous."

You Must Bear Your Neighbor's Burden Within Reason by blueleafsky

All his life, Obi-Wan Kenobi had only wanted to be useful, but everyone kept pushing him away. The Order, the AgriCorps, even the slavers who kidnapped him didn't really want him.

He had nowhere to go after escaping except back to the Order, and even then he wasn't wanted, but he stayed anyway, an invisible and lonely ghost in the deserted parts of the Temple.

Then one day he met a lonely child who had been a slave, and a lonely teenager-adult who was technically still a slave, and he felt that, maybe, he had something to live for.

Skywalker Seduction Method by Revna14

At first it starts as a way to deal with the influx of flimsiwork. It quickly devolves into chaos.

#forgot to post this last night because i started binging tokyo revengers #i'm in DEEP with this anime #not sure why this round-up is shorter this week and has only two fandoms??#my brain is too empty ig #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #witcher recs #sw recs

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years ago

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The Eyes Are Lined

Summary: whilst on the last days of set of filming the show where he plays Tommy Lee, Sebastian is greeted with a surprise guest in his trailer, and he is certainly not going to be one to complain whence he’s gets a treat as sweet as you

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (male + female receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, p in v, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, teasing, fingering, pet names

Word Count: 4133

Masterlist Link

It fell from his lips as a relieved sigh, it had felt like forever since he had last seen you, and as he took in your form coiled in a baggy sweatshirt of his and hopefully nothing more, he was fast to close and lock the door behind himself. His tongue darted out to swipe the upon the underbite of his lip as he stepped slowly forwards in his adjourned flip flops, the wide shorts hanging off his legs. For this role he had very much diversified his appearance; lost weight, changed his hair, worn temporary tattoos - yet from the prowess that resonated through your eyes, nothing in the way of your attraction had changed.

“Sebba.” You greeted him with a wide smile, dismissing your phone that had been in your hand to the side of the couch, and crawling off the seat that you had taken up residence in. Instantly, your arms wrapped around his sleek torso, taking in the aroma of his deodorant that obliterated the senses through your nostrils. He pulled your face up with the grip of his heavy palm against your courteous cheek, as his breath fanned against the platter of your forehead.

“You’re here early, shooting doesn’t finish for another three days.” He stated, the grin that was tugging at his features clearly showing that he was anything but disappointed by your unspoken arrival. Tucking your arms to land around his waist like a belt that was enclosing him against you, you happily sighed, stroking your nose against the expanse of his bare chest that was beholden before you through the open curtains of his plain black hoodie. For a moment your eyes flickered down to the fake piercings that were strung like light fixtures from his nipples, watching as the silver metal beamed in contrast to the bulb that was fixed into the ceiling.

“I wanted to surprise you, it feels like forever since we were that close.” Was your confessing admission, as you pressed a warm kiss upon his revealed flesh, causing him to hum in acknowledgement of the amorous act. “Though I’m happy that god awful shadow is gone from your chin, if you want hair there then I suggest that you grow your beard back out.” You stroked your thumb over the crescent of his chin, running the pad through the indent as he inwardly cocked his brow, stiffening his jaw at your straight opinion.

“What’d you think of everything else? Be honest now darling.” He clicked his tongue, staring down at you with his smokily framed eyes, as you coiled back into your shoulders so that you could get a better overall viewpoint of him, as your hands descended to cupping the inward joints of his elbows. You balanced your weight on both of your feet, juggling between them to remain sturdy as you felt the mood in the trailer punctually shift, as though you were crossing through the mysterious channel that inhabited the Bermuda Triangle.

“Hmmm, well I’m rocking for the eyeliner, it really makes your eyes stand out more than they already do. And you know I’ve always been an absolute sucker for the longer hair, but I’m a sucker for you in general.” At that suggestive statement, you casted a sultry wink at him, hoping that he caught onto the act rather than thinking you had something entrapped in the perimeter of your eye. It was not dust that had clogged upon your pupil, instead it were lust, gripping onto the very image of him. It had been months, long ones at that since the pair of you had seen each other.

All the intimacy that your relationship confined in its long distance was dealt with over the phone, never once did the space that his work divulged the two of you apart make you feel lonely, he tried his utmost to ensure that you were comfortable even with miles for what seemed like an eternity separating you. The cellular contact that immersed your spare time furloughed for both late night calls that brought an innocent lovesick smile to resort upon the spectating image of your face that was reflected through the front camera of your phone, and sexual conducts that travelled across the countries that you were both in to bring you closer and alternatively higher together, in a blissful reunion that swamped your head with hyperactive hormones that followed after your mutual orgasms.

“Naughty.” He condoned you for your filthy innuendo, his hand cascading down the artwork of your body, and moving behind you, so that his fingertips were dancing upon the crown of your exempt ass cheek. “Guess all that time away has gotten you desperate for me, huh? Do you want to some sucking up to me? I’ve had a pretty hard day, and it would help me relieve a bunch of the stress that depends on these last few days. Not to mention I am so pent up from not seeing you all this time, it was practically torture honey bee, I’m not even sure how I survived.”

Dragging his head down to meet with your own, you pressed luscious and. Extended pecks onto his thin lips,having missed them covering every inch o your skin with the love that swelled in his chest and other places for you. “I don’t even know if you’ll last that long Bas, its been a certain while of you solely using your hand.” A giggle reaped from your throat as your hearing absorbed the gasp that slithered out of his mouth; he playfully pushed down upon the line of your shoulders, only enhancing your amusement by doing so. “So pushy.”

“That is right, and I will only get rougher with you the longer that it takes you to get down on your knees for me, so I would think logically. After all, after I completely wrap on this show, I’m going to have all the spare one in the world to put you in your little place and stop you from being a disobedient little brat.” It was a promise, he was threatening you in the most sexual way possible, and you’d be lying if you were to say that some aroused nectar hadn’t gathered in the passage that divided your highs down the middle. You gulped, intimacy written in every speck of your irises as you lowered yourself to be poised on your thighs, your face near the tent forming at his crotch.

The material of his shorts gathered with creases as his cock grew beneath the baggy subject that defined his legs that much more. A hand ravelled through your locks as you found yourself darting your tongue out to caress his legs, moving your muscle upwards as your hands teased the waistband of the barrier that prevented you from seeing all of him. “How much have you missed me baby, let daddy know.” Lightly, he begs to roll his hips forwards, pressing his erection teasingly against your face, and you were loving every second of it. His balls were pressing against your chin on every mimic forwards, and as you tried to speak, your voice was a tiny bit muffled by them.

“So much Sebby, I hated being apart from you.” You thought that would be a good enough answer, but as his fingers threaded further through your hair, a quiet yelp ejected from your throat as he strayed you head to be leant upwards so that you were gazing into his domineering eyes. That was when you realised that you must have made a mistake, but no matter what it was, it was much too late to take it back. Sexual fear paved through your gaze as you poured, wanting nothing to get back to your journey of duty which was to suck his cock, however, you could not continue if Sebastian had other things, such as whatever you had done so wrongly plaguing his mind.

“Bitch no cause why did you pronounce my name wrong? It begins with your favourite letter; a D, remember? And now I’m not even sure that you deserve my D. Right now I am not your Sebastian, what am I little girl?” He growled down at you, his toes rigidly curling in the open toed shoes that he were sporting, his hand remaining tangled in your hair.

“Daddy.” You tried not to sob out of dismissal, and instead expedited for apologising to refrain from angering him any further. “I’m so sorry daddy, I’ll do anything. Anything to make it up to you, please, I’ll never make that mistake again.” Unless it was not in this scenario of course, the pebbles of your tears brought a vivid richness and innocence upon your face, as though you were pooling diamonds out of the windows of your explicit soul. And I’m return, you were met with the gift of Seb shoving his shorts to be draped over his feet, his cock playing the curve of a sail as it stiffened more so at the air that hit it.

“Are you wearing anything underneath that sweatshirt baby?” He enquired as his right hand held his length in hand, enclosing his fist around the warm flesh that was beading with visible emotion at the tip. It was as though a pearl was balancing on the sector of his slit, teasing you as you dryly licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to ingest that into your body. To answer his question, your hands toyed with the bottom of his clothing article, pulling it up so that he could see your bare abdomen, of which was dressed in nothing more than your flawless skin.

“No daddy, I’m not. Am I in more trouble for that?” You worried that you were, all that you had wanted to do was surprise him, and you felt yourself grow a little giddy as he slowly shook his head, and pull back the coat of his foreskin to flash off as much of his cock as possible. He was teasing you to the slyest of his abilities, he wanted to subject you into doing something against your better judgement, and you remained strong, no matter how much you wanted to coil your lips around the head of his member and take him as far as the hollow of your throat would naturally allow.

“No baby, imma let you off the hook for that because I haven’t seen you in so long and I know that pretty little cunt has missed me probably more than the rest of you, but don’t test me again angel, or on the plane home you’re gonna have to sit on a bag of ice.” A part of you wanted to smirk, to coyly piss him off to see if that perseverance were to be true, however if you knew Sebastian, and you knew him more than well, you wouldn’t put anything past him nor his motives. “Go on, I can see you practically drooling to take me in your mouth. Don’t tease or I’ll fuck your face; be a good girl would ya.”

You weren’t going to waste anymore time, for all that you aware, any one of the set assistants could take him away from you, and that possibility only fuelled your instincts further as you hovered your head away from his hand, that was now patting and gently playing with your locks instead of using them as a leash, and flickered your tongue out to swipe that sample of precum and swallow it without hesitation. Before your mind could comprehend it, your body had already taken the next steps forwards and started to swallow down his member, your lashes fluttering closed as you hummed, sending a rhythm through Sebastian’s body of which made him cuss.

He was looking through half lidded eyes, almost shutting them, though stopping from doing so when he noticed your hand creep down the smooth skin of your thigh, and pry at your own folds. He was going to reprimand you for being so confident that you weren’t going to get caught doing something that was so ludicrous, but he decided that he were to allow you to continue for a moment. If he made a scene after revelling in his own pleasure, then you would be more compliant with whichever punishment that he nailed you down with. The tips of your digits quivered around your lips, before sinking within your walls and the rest of your palm cupped your pussy.

It made more sense now you were moaning against him, for not only the taste of him that hung heavily on your tongue, but from the slip of power that you thought you had over him, even if it be cloaked in secrecy. As he thought more of that, he found himself starting to fume with an underlining of rage, his fists stiffened at his sides as he exhaled through a combination of the sensations rippling beneath his skin. It was a combination of brewing disappointment and foreseen arousal; his veins burned with both, turning his blood warm and drumming his brain with one thing - it were his birthright to make you submit before him.

And though you were positioned in front of him, cast to your knees as you worked on his hard cock with your heavenly mouth, your mind had slithered away from the laws that you were supposed to obey as you fingered yourself against and without his jurisdiction. To retain from speaking out just yet Seb put the pressure of his front teeth down upon his bottom lip, as he tuned his ears on the sounds of your mouth i taking his cock and slathering it with the natural lubricant of your saliva, and if he paid enough attention, the sound of your nimble fingers darting in and out of your entrance was echoed through the slick that was provided from your hormonal body, that coated your fingers and glistened underneath the lighting.

As he felt a spark approaching through the intermissions of his pleasured body, he found it to be best to direct you away, and exhibit distance despite having forgone with that flow for the time space that you hadn’t seen each other in. And thus he gently stepped back, allowing his cock to fall past your lips and a string of spit to be the only thing connecting you to it. It was an instinct for you to whine as you watched him take his cock back into his hand, giving himself a couple of easing tugs to cool himself down from his ruined orgasm.

And that was when all prevailed in realisation for you, that he continued to ogle at you from above as your index and middle fingers on your right hand remained inside of your cunt, and as your mind sparked some sense back into it, you instantly removed them despite the emptiness that attained within that area. Your eyes remained wide as you watched with caution as Seb took it upon himself to take a seat on the sofa that was below the blind strung window of his trailer, his hand temptingly patting his thick thighs as a means to convince you to move closer.

“Get up here you deviant minx.” It was not a sweet gesture that he were offering you, no, instead you were getting punished despite evading such a fate earlier on. Pushing yourself up from your knees, you went to lay yourself against him homely lap, however as you went to do so, he tugged at the sweatshirt that compiled a flush of heat against your addictive body, pulling it up a few inches to send you the message. Once you had completely removed the appeared and were dressed to the eye in nothing more than your naked flesh, that was when Sebastian allowed you to continue laying your stomach across his legs, as your own legs and breasts were draped either side of them.

His rough fingertips caressed the muscles of your back, making them twitch from rugged anticipation. They descended lower as he dug his knee into your ribs, enjoying the way that your breath hitched. “You know the rules angel, you don’t touch without permission, and yet you did. Do you have anything to say for yourself before I bruise this beautiful ass red and blue?” The worst thing was you could imagine how your cheeks would look all bruised up from the harsh strokes from his commanding hands; it had happened before and each and every time you’d tell yourself that it’d never happen again, that you’d avoid such intimate brutality because you’d behave.

But you both knew better than to trust those empty promises that wailed from your desperate throat as you were subjected to a pain that made your mind hazy and your throat parched. “No daddy, just that I’m sorry.” A yelp quickly followed after as he collided his hand down upon the fat of your behind, your entire body jolting as you shakily inhaled, knowing that in a few minutes that you’d get used to the pain and find it less surprising. The first strike was always the worst, and as another clapped down, followed by more and more, tears reigned the paving of your face as they spilt down your cheeks.

Your apology was simply a waver in the air, it did nothing other than tell him something that he’d heard a million times by this point. And when nothing added to the soreness of your bosom, you swore that you were in heaven, it continued to sting though as relief washed over your aura, and your lashes flickered through the fallen tears, slowly drying from the sobbing that they had commenced. “You took that well, okay.” Seb breathed, beginning to softly stroke your ass which made you whimper from the feather light pressure that digressed against the impact he had prohibited you to dwindle in. “I’m gonna reward you, think you can turn over baby?”

He slipped out from beneath you, allowing you to remain on your stomach for the moment until you had finally came up with your decision. You wriggled a little, stretching your toes as you hummed in reply and switched, despite the searing conundrum that resorted favour over your backside, onto the polar of your position, only to find your lover of whom was in control crawling towards you, the rings around his eyes looking sinful as he stared at your naked body as though you were his prey. His hands began to reel up your legs, coercing you into squirming against the cushioning that was managing to keep you at the same physical level as him, though the same couldn’t be said for the mental premise that rendered in interference of your relationship.

Hot air brushed upon your mound as he pressed a kiss to the hill that lead to the lake that was fawning at his close proximity, waves crashing and glistening to appeal to his ocean eyes. “Daddy, can you please do something?” A grunt differed from his throat as he inhaled the sea salt that subordinated his nose to the all natural scent, all before he nipped at the inside of your thigh before delving his face between the tightened proximity, sealing his mouth around your sensitive bud as he mumbled moans against your reactive flesh, earning himself a deeper invasion as you rutted your hips up to his face.

Sebastian Stan was a man of many talents; he could clearly mimic anyone that a script needed him to, but the one thing that he was truly magical at was using his mouth. It was a skill set that made you mercilessly comply to him, it was his superpower, which was indeed ironic considering that he played a hero in one of the world’s biggest franchises known to cinema. He raised his hands to grasp at your own as he trailed them into his strongly pigmented hair, giving you permission to ravel your hands through his straight hair, and feel the smooth sheen against the judge of your skin. You liked it, as you knew that you would.

Using his tongue, he pried at your entrance, sinking it within you as he began to shake his unruly head, extracting small screams from your throat as you became victim to his plentiful evidence of love. Your chest raised out in the air as your eyes rolled back, and a tweak pulled at your clit once more, and looking down, it revealed that it were your beloved tugging at the button with his teeth, as he gouged your reaction. When you reached your orgasm, he dived head first back into your emptying cavern, cleansing all that he had subdued from your body via his amazingly versed and performed sentiment.

“Taste so fucking good baby.” To prove his point, he clambered above you, slipping his lips against your own as he swabbed your tongue with his own, sharing your own juices so that you could feel them balance on your taste buds. His hand ran down your body as he pinched your hardened nipples, earning himself a withered and high pitched sigh from your mouth as he pulled away from the kiss. “Think you for another one in you angel? Daddy wants to fuck this sweet pussy, you okay with that?” A dazed nod gave him permission, though he grasped your jaw with his strong hand as he ensured that you stared back at him. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, want your cock in me daddy. Always do.” A content smile used your mouth as it’s efficient puppet as he held onto his cock, and teased it around your folds, wetting his foreskin and other areas to make it more pleasurable for the both of you when he went to push in. And when he did, you felt like you had died and gone to heaven, it made you wonder how you ever survived going months without his touch, in any which way. Your hands held onto his hips as you steadied his weight, silently giving him the okay to start moving, and he did, he sunk within your cavernous walls, only to pull back and repeat the action. “Seb.” You breathed the shortened version of his name, the hot air leaving your mouth hitting his shoulder as he panted beside your face, his nose dragging up your cheek as you ran your hand down, cupping his balls and stroking them with the tender contact of your thumb.

For once under these circumstances, he did not shun you for saying his true name, instead he was too busy with the maddening rush that flew through his body as he fornicated with you. His pace increased, provoking the sound of flesh slapping upon flesh in the air as your thighs and hips clashed, amongst other parts. “Fuck sugar, ya close?” He asked you hurriedly, his forehead scrunching up as he felt immense pleasure as your cunt clenched around him, using his leverage to play with your clit once more. You ravenously nodded your head, dragging your nails over his body as you tried to jut your body up against his, chasing the approaching high which ultimately had you slumping against the cushions as he continued to pummel your body with his delivering thrusts.

“Shit.” He almost shouted, a soothing buzz ongoing in his body as he released his seed within you, you being able to feel every drop even after he pulled out and rolled to lay beside you, tugging you to be laying on his chest, neither of you caring for the cum that was escaping from your entrance that also happened to be the exit. “Why you laughing at me angel face?” Sebastian queried as he heard your cheeky sounds of amusement, a grin ruining the formation of his rocker disguise.

“You’re eyeliner’s all smudged.” You laughed, running the pad of your thumb beneath his eye and in the crows feet that dipped below, blending it further into his skin and giving it a grey hue to its ebony gradient. “You still look hot though.” You shrugged, nestling your head deeper into his chest, finally relieved that you and Sebastian were in the same place at the same time again.

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leafs-lover · 3 years ago

Note

“I want this. I want you.” (I have no idea what the rest of it was.) under the fluff category with Freddie of course please! ❤️

gif credit @/9116

Best friend!Freddie x emotionally unavailable reader from this prompt list

You never imagined yourself being best friends with an NHL player. You actually never even saw yourself meeting one. But a day late in September you were waiting at a local coffee shop for your drink. You heard the barista call out the name and the order, while the drink was exactly what you ordered, the name he read off the cup was not.

The drink sat there while they handed out a few more, and they called out the name once more. Sighing you pulled out your phone wondering why people who ordered after you were already leaving, when someone nudged you. Turning to your left you were met with the most gorgeous brown eyes you had ever seen.

Soft, the light catching them just right. A dark halo around the light brown colour with yellow flecks, they were just beautiful. Next you saw his thick red hair, styled perfectly with a slight flip to the right. You saw his lips moving, but you heard nothing, caught staring at his copper beard framing his chiseled jaw.

It’s not until he blinked at you a couple times and a scowl pressed into his forehead that you snapped out of it. Literally, you shook your head to snap out of it. “Sorry, what did you say?” voice barely over a whisper.

“I think that’s your drink,” he glanced to the cup sitting on the counter, recalling the order the barista had repeated three times.

“Yeah, but that’s not even close to my name,” you laughed eyeing to the black sharpie on the paper cup.

“Well nobody else has claimed it, so I think its fair game.” Reaching to the counter he grabbed two drinks and handed one to you. “So, what is your name?”

“YN,” you smiled, politely accepting the drink.

“Wow, they really butchered it eh?” he laughed. “I’m Fred,” he explained, pointing to the ink on his mug.

He held the door for you, and you stepped out into the busy Raleigh street. You both turned to the right, making small talk for a few minutes until you reached the door of your office. You didn’t think you’d ever see him again.

But you did. The next day, and the next day and the next, every day for almost two weeks. You thought maybe he had a job downtown like you. The schedule, always in the same place in the same time, but his attire through you off. Some days business casual, one day an actual three piece fitted suit, the next track pants a casual t-shirt. It confused you, but you didn’t dwell on it, always enjoying your morning walk with him.

It wasn’t until you didn’t see him for three days that you realized your original assumption was wrong. When you saw him after that short absence, you asked him where he went and that’s when he told you who he was. Frederik Andersen, starting goalie of the Carolina Hurricanes.

It made sense. He is huge. Towering over you at 6’4” and almost 240 pounds, wide shoulders that no sweater is thick enough to disguise. You knew he worked out, but had no idea to this extent.

You apologized for not recognizing him, as if it is something to be embarrassed for. But he laughed it off, saying he enjoyed it. Citing, you were one of the first genuine friends he had made, excluding teammates, because you got to know him for him.

He invited you to the home opener, and you were nervous to go. Not because you had never been to a game, throughout the years you had seen a handful and you were familiar enough with the sport. You were nervous because of where you were sitting. With the WAG’s and family members of the Canes.

You were neither, so it didn’t feel right. But you immediately felt at ease. Lucy and Gracia, the wives of Jake Gardiner and Brady Skjei, instantly greeting you. They were so welcoming, and walked you through the normal routine.

You followed them to the ice, Henry clapping as the players skated onto the ice. Fred stopped on the other side of the glass, tossing you a puck he shot you a playful wink and skated off.

He played great, looked so at ease. Even though you didn’t know him that well you could tell that was his place. Where he was meant to be.

After the game the girls took you down to the tunnel where they wait for the boys after the game. There was an excited chatter amongst everyone, winning the first game of the season. When he walked down the hall, your breath caught in your throat.

A crisp and simple black suit, skinny black tie hanging loosely around his neck. Hair damp from his shower, slightly tousled the ends beginning to curl. He looked amazing. But it was the wide smile, face beaming with pride that really caught your eye.

You fell into an easy friendship with him. Catching dinner when he was in town, periodically texting while on the road, confiding in him your fears and concerns. You complained about your boss and the menial tasks he has you doing. You complained about your neighbour who played loud rap until 1am every night. But you also complain about Trevor.

You and Trevor met in junior year of college and dated for years. You broke up in the early spring, not because anybody cheated and not because it was a toxic situation. You just started arguing over stupid things. Him leaving a towel on the floor, you staying late at the office trying to break through, leave a mark at the firm.

You wanted to be successful, hoping to one day become the manager of your branch. He wanted to have a girlfriend around for dinner every night. Little arguments here and there, became bigger and more frequent. Through your tears you made the hardest decision and walked away.

You didn’t talk for a few months, both of you taking some time. Then you ran into him and decided to try again. And things were good at first, cute dates and stolen kisses you almost instantly fell back in love with the man you loved. But then those little arguments over absolutely nothing started again. And once again you walked away.

When you met Fred you were still sorting through everything. Trevor would send you texts and take you out to the occasional dinner, but you couldn’t figure out where you wanted to go with him.

Fred supported you through every up and down. Every time you were on and off, he was there. He tried to not listen when you’d walk out of the room while arguing with Trevor over the phone. He listened when you complained when things were bad and gush when things were good. He offered advice and never overstepped or suggested you walk away.

He just listened.

That is until one January night. The sky is dark, heavy clouds covering the stars, a fresh snowfall on the ground. The air is crisp, a harsh wind freezing your fresh tears against your cheek.

In the elevator you look at the time on your phone, 12:17, but still, you don’t turn around. Opening the door wearing a white t-shirt and plaid pajamas you can tell he had been asleep. Eyes struggling to open and a large yawn, but the second he sees the devastation painted on your face he immediately wrapped you in a hug.

“I thought you were done with him,” he sighs, immediately knowing the root of your problems.

“I was…I am,” you sniffle against his rock hard chest.

“Then why are you crying over him?”

“Because,” you sob not wanting to tell him what happened.

When Fred drags you to the couch and his hand gently strokes over the backs of yours you tell him everything. You tell him that a few weeks ago you were lonely and invited Trevor over. Into your bed. How it was great, amazing even. He made you breakfast, bought you flowers, gave you soft kisses on the cheek. And that in the days since that night the two of you have text, even grabbed drinks a couple times. That you thought things were going well this time.

Then you went out with some friends for drinks last night. He didn’t see you when he walked in, you and your friends tucked in a corner. You were about to walk up and greet him when someone else beat you to it.

Long legs covered in skin tight denim, a gorgeous red crop top and a beige leather jacket covering her torso. She is absolutely stunning, but that isn’t what captures your attention. It’s the searing kiss she places on his lips that completely caught you off guard.

He called you this morning, and again and again. By the fourth time he knew you were screening his calls and a few hours ago showed up at your door. You told him about seeing him with the gorgeous brunette, his hand never not on her.

That’s when he tells you he met Amanda a few weeks before you text him. That the two of them aren’t exclusive, but neither were you. That he kept talking with her because he didn’t know what would happen this time.

He explained how he had been enjoying the past few weeks with you. But that he didn’t know what to expect given your history. But he also said that, he thought Amanda might help him realize what he wanted. That she would either wouldn’t compare to you, and he would know you were the one for him. Or he wouldn’t think of you when with her and realize it was time to move on.

“What did he say?” Fred asks when you finally stop rambling.

“That he doesn’t know who he wants.”

“What a fucking idiot,” Fred mutters almost under his breath. “How can he have you and want to see what else is out there? How can he think there is someone better?”

He didn’t mean for you to hear. But the frustration evident in his tone, made his words louder and said with some venom. Sniffling, you wipe away your tears, your gaze landing on him. His eyes are dark, a rage burning deep inside him.

“What?” you question, though you think you heard him right.

“Nothing,” he quickly admits, eyes going wide.

“No…you said how can he think there is someone better.”

“No I didn’t,” he tries to backpedal, but you don’t let him.

“Fred,” you assert. “I know what I heard, what did you mean?”

Locked in a stale mate, each staring at the other, waiting for them to break first. Sighing, he shakes his head and gives in. “You seriously can’t be surprised to hear me say that. “Everyone sees it, why can’t you?”

“What?” you question, heat hitting your cheeks.

“I like you YN,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “I have since September. Why do you think I went back to that coffee shop, every day at the same time? It’s nowhere near my apartment or the rink. I just happened to be in the area and stopped in, I actually walked you four blocks in the opposite direction of my car just to talk to you that day. I kept going back after that to see you.”

Your jaw almost falls to the floor as you try to process everything. Had you really been that blind to the man in front of you?

Replaying the past four months you see it. The smiles, the laughter, the instances where he wants to lean in but doesn’t. You see his heart break every time you talk about dates with Trevor, and break even more every time you cry over him. “I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he sighs.

“No but I do. I’m sorry for not noticing, sorry for everything you’ve gone through.”

“Sorry for not feeling the same way?” he hesitantly asks.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes heavy with tears fall. “I don’t know.”

Your confession hurts Fred, but he always knew this was a potential outcome. “It’s okay,” Fred concedes. Pulling you into his lap, his arms tighten around you. It pains to know that even during this time of heartache, he is focusing on you and not himself. “We are friends YN, no matter what.”

“Fred,” you struggle to choke out.

“I want this. I want you. In any way I can have you.” He knows this is the typical outcome in this situation, to walk away because seeing them every day is too hard. But to him, the thought of not seeing you is even worse.

“Fred,” you say firmer this time. Lifting your head you find those beautiful brown that captivated your attention that very first day. “I’m not saying no Fred. I’m just not in a place that’s fair to you. I can’t give you everything you deserve right now.”

“So I wait,” he smiles.

“No Fred, you have to live your life. I don’t know how long I’ll need, days, weeks, months. And I don’t know what I’ll be feeling or want then. I can’t ask you to wait.”

“You’re not, he asserts, “You’re not.”

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flunkyofmalcador · 3 years ago

Text

Modern AU head canons for the primarchs

I set them in a small city based around a building that used to be a religious order's hospital. Now it's work/live space, with a garden, a yoga studio, a bookstore, cafe, etc. It's haunted. The Emperor and His partner (who is someone else's OC) live in what was once the chapel, because He likes the spite of having sex where the altar once was.

Lion lives in a country estate and doesn't come to town much. He's coldly polite; nobody is friends with him. Russ likes to pick fights with him just to watch him lose his cool.

Fulgrim and Ferrus own a house in town. Fulgrim is an antiques dealer. Ferrus works in construction. There is a lot of construction going on; the town was recently discovered and people are moving there. The house is decorated exquisitely, except for the basement which is Ferrus' man cave.

Perturabo works in construction as well, as a draftsman. He hates it, but he's the best and paid correspondingly. He goes home, drinks wine, and paints. He's one of Fulcrum's best customers.

Jaghatai Khan runs a motorcycle dealership with an adjoining bar.

Russ is a park ranger. He and his two big dogs (?) split their time between his awful little two-room cottage in town and his very rustic (meaning uninsulated and full of bugs) cabin in the woods. Looks like a 2010s hipster with man-bun and gorgeous beard. People who try hunting in his park are never seen again.

Dorn runs Dorn & Sons Construction and hires most of the other architecturally inclined primarchs. Perturabo hates him but grants he's treated well in his job. He was just meant for so much more, you know?

Konrad Kurze lives in an abandoned subway station, from a project the city gave up on. He could tap the electricity and water, but that would be stealing, so he pays his bills every single month. Nobody is sure what he does; everyone is afraid to ask.

Sanguinius works as an administrator in a non-profit specializing in blood diseases. Mortarion is supervisor in one of the labs. Sanguinius rides his bike to and from work, and is often seen at the farmer's market, buying produce to cook for his beloved husband Horus. Mortarion lives in a two bedroom with his study and his fish tank. He grows mushrooms and Sanguinius buys them.

Angron is a traumatized war veteran who is coach of the high school football team. The World Eaters are on their way to the championships. To relax he does yoga and tends a garden behind his house. He suffers from migraines and nightmares, but is managing to hold it together.

Roboute Guilliman owns an accounting firm. Dorn trusts him to handle his finances honestly and ethically. He's also very involved in the community, supporting kids' sports teams and music programs. His elderly mom lives with him. She's vibrant and full of personality, a favourite around town.

Magnus owns the metaphysical store. He teaches classes on magic and hosts a coven in the back room.

Horus is a city councillor, shooting for Mayor with his eye on being Governor. His beautiful husband is a great asset, working as he does for the community and organizing elegant parties.

Lorgar is trapped in his adopted father's cult. Lorgar is the public face of the cult, doing the religious writings and most of the preaching. His father recently has sent one of their bishops, Erebus, to talk to Horus about what they could be doing to benefit the city.

Vulcan again works for Dorn & Sons. In his garage he has an actual forge, and loves to bring it to renaissance festivals to make horseshoes, knives, and swords. Kids love to pump the bellows and watch the red-hot iron go into the water.

Corvus Corax owns the record store. His style is Goth, but he also favors metal, and sees something in all forms of music, even if it's not what he prefers. Will DJ if asked.

The Twins are mobile IT specialists. Don't hire them; they like putting backdoors in computers. They live in a loft in what was once the hospital refectory.

Malcador owns a bookstore in the hospital complex, with both used and new books for sale. He is carrying on a flirtation with Tarasha, Roboute's mom. He's very dapper, she's very vibrant, they are a great couple. He has an apartment in the hospital complex.

#primarchs #real life au

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 5

WC: 1526

Rated: M

Chapter Tags: angst, mentions of physical congenital defects, name calling, Freud, mention of psychological disorders, mention of disabilities

🧠

Maybe it was naïve of you to hope for an apology from him after the incident in the classroom. He was a dick, after all.

Six weeks into the term and things had not gotten better, but in fact much worse. Every little thing he did drove you up a wall. He would talk to himself out loud about who knows what. He would ask you your thoughts and opinions on the theories he studied, and then try to challenge everything you said. He would make you feel small as he spoke down to you or he would laugh at your ideas. He would ask for help with the dumbest things too, like picking up pens and typing up all his notes. And worst of all, he would just watch you. It probably wasn’t really all that creepy, he didn’t actually give you those vibes, but you felt like a bug under a microscope.

The only time you could tolerate the doctor was when he was giving his lectures. It was like he was a totally different person. Gone was the calculating and stubborn doctor, and in his place stood a thoughtful, passionate, intellectual that tried to see the world from as many facets as possible. He was so incredibly open minded. You'd even seen him crack a smile or two.

You wondered what he might be like if that was his personality all the time. Would the two of you get along better and argue less? Would he think more highly of you, and not just as some dumb assisstant? You doubt it.

“-And then he handed me a stack of notebooks and asked me to type everything up. All his handwritten notes. Like oh my god, get with the times and just type them the first go yourself.” You were set upside down on Bitsy’s bed. This week Kreizler had amped up your workload, so of course you had to vent to your friends.

Feeling the blood pool in your head you roll over and sit up with a huff. “He’s just so strange… and he’s left handed but to the extreme. I don’t think I’ve seen him use his right hand once the entire time we’ve worked together. Like how odd is that?”

“Maybe he’s got OCD or something?” Margo, your mutual friend suggests.

You contemplate what she said. Perhaps he did have something else going on? The more you think about it the more you realize he really didn’t ever use his right hand; when he asked for your assistance it was always for a two-handed job. Perhaps… You are broken out of your trance when Bitsy interjects.

“You need to either find a new hobby to distract yourself or you need to hate-fuck the guy already.” She doesn’t look up from her phone.

Her comment catches you so off guard you choke on your own spit. Margo pats your back as you overcome the coughing fit. “Bitsy what the actual fuck?” She just gives you a ‘what?’ look. Clearly she’s grown two heads to even consider suggesting that to you.

“It’s not so crazy. You like older guys, you said it yourself that he’s smart and he’s cute. Maybe this is what you both need. Get out some frustration.” She tosses her phone to the bed. “And to be honest I’d like to be able to talk to you about literally anything other than how much you can’t stand the ‘good doctor dickwad’.”

Your mouth is gaping at her in your shock. Her words settle in you like a bag of rocks. “Oh my god I really do talk about him that much don't I?” Shame and embarrassment wash over you as you realize that yes, the majority of your day is spent complaining about Kreizler. “I’m sorry guys, I’ll make an effort to tone it down.”

“It’ll probably help with the stress too if you stop,” Margo adds.

“That and getting dicked down - how long has it been for you?”

“Yeah no,” you get off the bed and walk out of the room, “I’m not answering that.”

“Too long then!” Bitsy calls after you with a laugh.

He really thought he had been doing better with you. He couldn’t say you were his favorite person by any means, but you were proficient at your job and the tasks he gave you. A hard worker. He tried to engage in friendly conversation or to talk about the lessons he was planning with you. As little as you had actually studied psychology he found your insights to be most interesting and enlightening. He actually enjoyed it.

You, on the other hand, apparently did not.

Today was going the usual route - he attempted to engage you in discourse; you were determined to defend and fight your way out of it. Oddly enough, for as much as you loathed talking with him you were always giving him your opinion on things.

“How could you be so base to believe that? We are all individuals with our own wants, needs, and desires, sure, but to only be subject to that? To have no freedom or choice in anything we do or say? It’s ridiculous.” You sat with your arms across your chest, a sneer on your face as you argued with him.

His face remains calm through your tirade. He himself took Freud’s work with a grain of salt, but he was interested in your reaction to his questioning. So he pushed you. “And yet you sit here now with the most basic principle being exhibited - the presence of Freud’s Id hard at work - as you become frustrated and angered by my words. Is that in itself not the desire to let anger take control? Acting without fear of consequence? To be exactly what you now claim is ridiculous?”

You scoff. “No, Doctor, because I’ve chosen to not put up with the bullshit. I choose of my own free will.”

“But what is free will, if not chained to our deepest desires and fears? Us acting on the primal needs within us so out of our control? You have no choice in the matter, only impulse. Nothing you choose matters, you are inconsequential.” Laszlo found that he liked to rile you up. You were more forthcoming in your ideas and defenses; a worthy partner to discuss psychological theory with. But today he had pushed you too far.

By this point you had had enough. His constant instagation had driven you to the end of your rope. In reality it probably wasn’t that bad, and you really weren’t that confrontational of a person. But god, with him you just couldn’t seem to hold yourself back. He drove you up the wall.

“Is that what you want? To study me like your little project, seeing how you can get me to crack? Your own personal basket case to psychoanalyze? What - does that get you off at night or something?” You don’t even care that he’s your boss anymore or how inappropriate your suggestion is. If he can push and push and push without regard to what is considered socially allowed then you’d be damned if you didn’t too.

His face is merely curious, a hint of a smirk on it, as you all but yell at him from your desk. He sits back, a pen in his left hand, his right resting atop the desk. You notice his right thumb twitch.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” blurts from your scowled mouth. You don’t know why you ask. Maybe his idea about being chained to our deepest curiosities, no matter how questionable, had some weight behind it.

"I beg your pardon?" His eyes change the second the question slips from your lips. No longer is he eying you with amusement, but he looks as if he might snap at any second. His face is hard, you can see his jaw clenched under the full beard he sports.

At his reaction you know that you screwed up. You never should have said anything at all. Sure he could be as rude as the day is long, but he wasn’t necessarily a cruel man. He had little moments where he was genuinely kind to you. He even made you tea once.

“I’m sorry- I…. I don’t know where that came from. It was inappropriate of me and I apologize, Dr. Kreizler.”

The silence that overcomes the room is deafening, so unlike the boisterous discourse that was taking place a moment ago. You turn away hoping to resume your work. You even take a moment to pray to whoever is listening that you didn’t just get yourself fired.

“It was a congenital defect.” You turn back towards him, but he does not meet your eyes. He speaks low again. “My arm never developed correctly so it is weaker and has less function. That is all.” You nod at him, swallowing. The look in his eyes does not match what he tells you. He has the look of someone haunted by their past. It is a look you are all too familiar with yourself. You both finish your work in silence.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle

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weirdochick56 · 4 years ago

Text

Sin- Steve Rogers AU Chapter Three

Biker!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!

Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.

Word Count: 3, 379 Words

Summary: Y/n finally comes face to face with Biker King and it’s nothing like she imagined. And when she least expects it, the very person she came looking for will find her and all the emotions she has been holding in will come pouring out in unexpected ways.

Read Chapter Two Here!!

Under different circumstances, maybe you would’ve stayed there, in his hold a little while longer. It wasn’t like it was an unpleasant feeling...not in the least.

His hot hands and cool rings contrasted eachother deliciously on your skin and it had actually taken you a while to pull yourself out of your dazed trance, between getting the air knocked out of you and now....

“Oh.”

You didn’t mean to yelp the way you did when your gaze met those of the blonde Adonis that stood before you, but you couldn’t help it. Those eyes...if you had thought they were pretty before, now you could say with absolute certainty that they were utterly showstopping.

Salacious, intense, powerful...you’d never wanted to drown in a person’s gaze more.

He had the kind of eyes you don’t just get lost in, but entirely lose yourself to. The kind that if you stare into too long, you might be swallowed like quicksand. And yet, even knowing this, you couldn’t pull yourself away and had found yourself for the second time in only a short span of time, unable to breathe correctly.

His gaze was steady on yours as well, though unlike you he wasn’t shaken in the least. He was all cool and collected, his eyes searching yours out shamelessly.

And so you stay like that for a few moments, his big hands pressed onto your mostly bare back and your hands gripping his forearms tightly, steadying- anchoring yourself. Though nothing about the piercing power of that gaze was anchoring or even real to you.

Gradually, your heart begins picking up an erratic pace which only spikes when his fingers begin tracing softly over your skin.

The shivers this sends down your spine feels like a slap to the face and you find yourself almost aggressively pushing yourself away from him. He hesitates a bit, but it’s only a split second before his hands are unclasped and off your skin.

Breaking away seems to break the trance-like state you were in and instantly, the embarassment sets in, your cheeks heating up immediately. You bow your head refelctively.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out of pure shame. Not because of him, but because of yourself.

Why were you acting like this?

I mean, you weren’t normally one to fall for a pretty face because you had grown up around rich pretty boys your whole life.

But he...

You take a cautious peek at him again and instantly regret doing so when you realize the fact that his eyes had seemingly never left you and were now practically glowing with amusement as he watched you closely.

Your breath hitches and you bite your lip, a nervous habit of yours. His eyes momentarily flick down to the action but they quickly return back up to your gaze.

Your eyes are everywhere at once, your breathing labored. ‘He’s too close’, you think to yourself amidst the chaos in your brain.

And he’s too goddam perfect.

He’s all sharp jaw, high cheekbones, silky, messy blonde hair, pink plump lips and piercing blue eyes...every slope and curve and straight edge of his face was all too perfectly harmonious with one another. To say you were in complete awe at the Adonis before you would be an understatement.

You couldn’t breathe.

His plump lips are so pink and full and they’re only highlighted more by his dark neatly kept beard, you have to blink several times to make sure you’re not imagining them. How can a man have such pretty lips?

You had never seen someone this alluring in your life, he wasn’t at all like the pretty rich boys of your town.

He had a naturally intimidating aura to him, in that rough-around-the-edges badass biker way that you shouldn’t be finding this damn attractive.

And then you take a moment to take in his full form. You were right; he was easily a whole foot taller than you, sporting more tattoos than you could count on his visible skin- that was, his collarbone and hands, some of the ones up his arm poking out when he moved.

Unlike most people here who wore kuttes, he was wearing a thick leather jacket with the word, ‘President’ patched in bold black and white on it, but you knew he had his arms fully tatted because you’d seen it that day at the store.

He also wore black worn jeans that clung sexily on his slim hips, chains hanging over the jean hoops and clanging everytime he moved. He clearly loved his black combat boots because it was visibly obvious he used them a whole lot.

His sexy mouth lifts at the corner into an even sexier smirk and you all but come undone when he speaks again. “It’s okay, angel.”

‘Doll’, ‘angel’...

Your brow furrows and before you know what you’re doing...

“Are you in the habit of giving girls you’ve never met pet names, sir?” You blurt without thinking.

The unintentionally sassy words fly out of your mouth before your brain can even catch up, but when it does, your eyes instantly widen and your hand flies to your mouth, clasping over it in complete horror.

You want to die when the excessive attitude in your words sinks in and suddenly you’re all too aware of just how much bigger and intimidating this man was compared to you.

He could snap you, and most grown men, in half without a second thought.

You open your mouth to apologize profusely thinking you’ve offended this (most likely) dangerous outlaw, but you freeze once you see his expression.

He doesn’t seem angry at all, in fact, he’s...laughing? No, it’s not a full-on laugh like the one you’d seen in that parking lot. It’s more airy, more casual.

He was chuckling. At you.

He speaks again, this time amusedly. “Nah, only the pretty ones.”

You’re caught off-guard by the suave of his words and you find yourself profusely blushing once more. You have no idea how to respond to him so instead, you just shake your head, desperate to escape this increasingly flustering situation.

“Okay. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” you offer him a forced polite smile and go to side-step him.

You barely make it two steps before his hand is flying out, gripping your wrist firmly and tugging you backwards. A little gasp flies out of your mouth at the suddeness of the movement and before you understand what’s happening, you find yourself pressed tightly against a wall, shrouded in darkness.

You turn your wide eyes onto Biker King, whose thick arms are now pressed beside each side of your head, caging you in entirely. His long torso is leaning down slightly, so his eyes are directly with in your line of sight.

His scent comes onto you like an avalanche. He smells strongly of leather, cologne, shaving cream, something woodsy yet manly and strangely enough, clean laundry.

It was unlike any scent you’d ever smelt on a man, but somehow it fit him perfectly and you found yourself inhaling deeper than usual, your heart racing at his sudden proximity.

He’s so close, your chests are only an inch or two away and he’s staring straight into your soul, cornering you like a predator would a helpless prey.

“Uh...” you can only mumble awakwardly, still kind of dazed and gaping up at him in utter shock, you can barely hear yourself over the loud pounding of your erratic heart.

Up close, he’s more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined a person to be and his piercing gaze was honestly dizzying you.

“Why are you here, doll?”

His sudden question jerks you painfully back into reality and you press your lips together, your brows pinching up instantly at his words. The question is so blunt, so sudden, you can only blink furiously up at him.

“I- what?” You breathe shakily, suddenly unable to function at all.

He tilts his head down at you, raising a brow and speaking awfully matter-of-factly. “Well you’re that pretty little thing from that shit-hole parking lot, aren’t you?”

At first you can only blink stupidly at him, not expecting him to recognize you but then it suddenly dawns on you...if he recognized you then-

You gasp loudly, cheeks more fiery than ever.

A knowing smirk grows on his face. “Hey, for what it’s worth, angel, it was a pretty catchy ringtone.”

You bite your lip in order to supress any small sound threating to spill over out of your lips.

His eyes darken when they fall onto your meek movement and he tightens his hold in the wall, inhaling sharply. “Damn...”

Your blush darkens and your stomach clenches at his small, heated mumble that leaves those pretty lips.

Maybe it was the smug little smirk on his beautiful face that bothered you so much. Or maybe it was the way his eyes pierced through you like you were see-through, but either way, you felt trapped.

Like he was a lion and you were some small, distressed powerless prey, unable to escape that watchful gaze.

“I have to go...” you breathe curtly, staring at his mouth from under your lashes as his pink tongue pokes out, sweeping lightly over his lips.

He chuckles sexily. “Oh, nu-uh, doll. You haven’t answered my damn question yet. What’s a girl like you doing here?”

“A girl like me?” You frown.

He laughs, looking away for a second before turning his magnetic eyes back onto you, somehow more intensely than before.

“You and I both know you don’t belong on this side of town, angel,” he whispers meaningfully, staring at your mouth fixedly.

“I-I don’t even know you,” is all you can manage in a shaky voice, feeling like an invisible force is pushing at your chest.

His eyes lazily drag up to your own and he hums thoughtfully. “You don’t have to. You just have to tell me what you want with this place.”

You find yourself reeling back indignantly at his demanding tone despite your nervousness. Just who did this stranger think he was?

“I don’t have to tell you jack shit,” you snap. “Now let me go, please.”

If he’s shocked by your little outburst, he doesn’t show it, instead he laughs lowly, the sound somehow like pebbles scraping against gravel and also like what silk felt on your skin or the way honey squeezes out of a bottle.

The sound was so sexy- a perfect balance of masculine and airy- that it felt like a carress on your skin.

“Oh, you’re definitely not from around here, little spit fire.”

You want to ask him what he means, but before you can, a voice cuts in from behind you both.

“Prez.”

The both of you freeze, but perhaps for entirely different reasons. Biker King looks mildly annoyed at the interruption, and you...

Well that voice sounded freakishly like-

Biker King releases a big breath, smoothly pushing off the wall and spinning around to look at the voice, leaving you to finally be able to release a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in.

You’re still safely hidden behind the much larger frame of Biker King, but you can easily make out about three pairs of manly feet from between his lean, jean-clad legs.

“Sorry, Prez,” the same voice quickly pushes out, but he sounds more panicked than apologetic. “I know you’re busy but...” he pauses, and for some reason you know it’s because of you.

‘Prez’? As in “president”? You found yourself wondering silently.

Tentatively, you step out from behind Biker King, head bowed. “Uhm- I was actually just going so..”

You don’t even plan on looking at them before high-tailing it out of there, but a shocked voice stops you.

“Y/n?!”

Your head snaps up instantly.

And when your gazes make contact for the first time in a long time, you can’t help the tears that instantly pool around your eyes, eyes and nose burning furiously as all the overwhelming feelings and thoughts you’d been suppressing for so long come rushing to the surface.

It was an instantaneous reaction because deep down you had felt he was near and a wave of conflict crashes right against you as you stiffen up.

Your mouth feels dry as you blink the threatening hot tears back. You haven’t seen him in a while, but he hasn’t very much changed appereance wise.

Those eyes were still the warmest blue you’ve ever seen, that hair was still kinky and he hadn’t chopped off his frosty tips.

It dawns on you why you’d recgonized that voice and your heart squeezes tightly as you’re fact to face with him...

Your voice is croaky and breathy when you say his name, but you force yourself to.

“Pietro.”

Steve’s POV

I watch with raised brows as Pietro, or ‘Pretty Boy’ as we called him and my angel -Y/n is what Pietro called her- naturally draw closer together, like being pulled together by some kind of fucking magnetic force, and a surge of anger rises within me instantly.

‘So your name is Y/n, huh?’ I can find myself thinking that her name is beautiful, delicate and feminine like her and that it would probably feel good to say on my tongue.

Bucky and Sam each shoot a weird look my way, as if asking ‘what’s up with these two?’ and I give them a short shrug, quickly turning my gaze back onto the stomach-churning scene developing before me.

Fuck, I hated her being so close to another man, it was inexplicable. I had just met the girl but I already knew I wanted her in my bed- it was like an instinct to me.

Pietro is now within reach of her and I can do nothing but clench my fists as he reaches his arms out, with tears in his eyes appareantly not giving a flying fuck that his brothers are watching this unfold and tugs her small body towards him.

What fucks me up more than anything is that she doesn’t fight him in the least.

I mean it’s clear that they know eachother from their dramatic soap opera moment, but it’s the fact that they look so natural doing it -like they’ve done it so much before it’s muscle memory at this point- that makes me want to kill someone...perferably Pietro.

He buries his face in her hair, inhaling her scent deeply and I can’t say I blame him. In the small amount of time I’d spent close to her, I’d become addicted to her smell. She smelt nothing like the women I’d fucked over the years. They used cheap off-brand shit, that too potent sweet stuff...but her?

She smelled like wild flowers and vanilla, an expensive, soft, but not entirely inconspicuous scent I would fucking drown in if I could for the rest of my miserable life.

As I watched on, helplessly clenching my fists so as to not do something rash, she shakily lifts her petite arms and wraps them around Pietro, hugging him tightly to her.

Oh. I growl under my breath, unable to resist the pang of jealousy that hits me.

Bucky, my vice president, sends a look my way and I’m pretty sure there’s murder on my face, but all he does is smirk amusedly, the fucker.

But then it gets worse, because Pretty Boy’s hands start wandering, rubbing her back tenderly, up and down almost to her nice round ass. Up and down, up and d-

I see red, and before I know what I’m doing, I feel myself lunging forward, ready to rip them apart.

Except...

“Oh shit!” I freeze when I hear Sam voice all our thoughts at what has just happened.

In the time I had stepped forward, Y/n had suddenly broken away from the embrace, brought her small fist back and clocked Pietro right in the jaw.

We all stare like damn idiots at the loud smack sound, and consequent mixture of grunts and yelps that rings out, but none more than me.

Little spitfire packs a damn powerful right hook, even with her size.

I can see even Bucky, whose the most stoic of us all, is unable to do anything but gape at the scene.

Our shocks lasts very little because in the next second, still cradling her injured hand to her chest, she uses her other free hand to smack him in the head, over and over.

“You asshole!” she hissses, whacking him anywhere she can get her small hand. Pietro is crouched over, arms thrown over his head in order to protect himself.

“Y/n stop!” he demands.

But this only seems to anger her more and she’s attacking him with more fury now. “How dare you just up and leave like that? I thought-” she huffs, pained. “I thought you loved me, you dipshit!”

It would seem my little angel has a potty mouth on her and I can’t help but smirk bemusedly to myself despite the fact that anyone here can tell there’s history there.

Sam and Bucky’s shock seems to have worn off as well and they’re now staring, on the verge of laughter.

It was pretty comical I’ll admit, seeing as she was way smaller than him and still whooping his ass. It was actually pretty impressive considering he was one of my guys.

I snap into action once I remember that she’s injured her hand and that Pietro isn’t fighting back because if he did, he could kill her.

“Sam, Bucky,” I snap, pointing at Pietro with my eyes. They don’t hesitate a single second and instantly capture Pretty Boy in their hold, tugging him back.

I reach out and grab Y/n by her waist, easily lifting her up and away.

“Let me go, dammit! Let me go!”

She wiggled aggressively against my hold, still flailing her small limbs about and yelling like a nutjob, but she’s no match against my strength.

I hug her tightly, pressing her back to me so she can relax. “Settle down, angel,” I whisper calmly in her ear, but she keeps resisting, so I hastily add “If you keep wiggling that pretty little ass of yours like that on my cock you’re going to make me do something I’ll regret later. So I highly suggest you stop. Fucking. Moving.”

I suppress the urge to grin when I feel her instantly stiffen beneath my touch. She finally seems to give up and fall limp against my hold.

I mean, I was only half lying to get her to calm down. Actually, I was already half hard.

‘You are one sick fucking bastard, Steve’ I think to myself bemusedly.

“Y/n?! What the hell is going on?!” Another feminie voice calls out from behind us.

Our necks snap instantly towards the direction where it came from and I frown. A pretty redhead comes bounding towards us, or well, me, looking just about ready to kill me and it is then I realize that I’m still carrying Y/n.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Let her go!” She starts to give me hell, but Y/n suddenly sighs.

“It’s okay Wanda,” she mutters. “He was just trying to keep me from killing-”

“Wanda!” Pietro calls out suddenly and the redhead’s eyes widen, much like Y/n’s had when she had first seen him. She instantly turns to Pretty boy and runs over to him, tears in her eyes. She practically jumps on him and holds him tightly to her.

What. The. Hell.

Sam turns to Bucky incredulously as ‘Wanda’ and Pietro hold eachother like they were the other’s life line.

“Dude,” Sam breathes over to Bucky. “Where the hell is Pretty Boy getting all these babes from?”

Bucky shrugs. “No clue.”

“Wanda what are you doing here?” Pietro breaks away from her, ignoring Buck’s and Sam’s whispers.

“Oh Pietro! I thought you were dead!” she sniffles and I’ve had just about enough of this shit show.

“Enough.” I call out, gently setting Y/n down. I try to ignore her pretty gaze burning holes into the side of my head and focus on the issue at hand, turning my harsh gaze to Pietro.

He gulps audibly because he knows I’m no longer playing around.

“Pietro, you’re going to explain now.”

Read Chapter Four Here!!

***

Pretty short chapter but I hope you liked! If anything I can rewrite it-

Please give me feedback I’m so insecure about my writing so anything would be fine. I see all your asks and replies.

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#Steve Rogers #steve #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #biker!AU #biker!steve rogers x reader #biker!steve rogers #biker!steve rogers x reader au

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exuberantocean · 3 years ago

Note

I'd love to know your thoughts on the character's reactions to discovering Ted's secret has been leaked- or more correctly Roy's reaction. Beard has immediately worked out it was Nate and is angry- love protective Beard, but Roy? What's his reaction? Has he not worked it out when Nate confesses he kissed Keeley- his response to that is gentle and measured had he known his betrayal of Ted would be have been so gentle?

Compare to Beard "I'd head butt you, Nate!" Has Roy not seen the papers? But then he lives with Keeley who is all over these things instantly! Just wonder what your thoughts about this are- if you have any!

Ah Roy. His reaction seems rather muted, doesn't it. But this isn't the first time we see him react the same way.

Going back to s1, Roy and Keeley get the paparazzi's pictures from the photographer. Roy's a key part of discovering those pictures and yet we never see him react at all. It is possible Keeley looked at the pictures and neither showed Roy nor told him, but that feels unlikely.

So now we have two times where Roy is aware of some big news, but doesn't react much to it. And in s1, he very likely knows Rebecca's involved.

Seems odd at first, doesn't it?

But Roy does something else that might shed some light on this behavior. He's gone to the Diamond Dogs for help a couple times, but always disappears when it comes to giving advice. When Ted disappears before practice to pick up Sharon from the hospital, in Man City, Roy replies to Nate's curiosity about Ted's disappearance with "it's none of my business."

So I think two things are in play here. First, I think Roy respects people's boundaries - perhaps a bit more than he needs to. He's not going to address the story about Ted's panic attacks, and any potential leakers, unless it becomes his business. That is, unless someone intentionally pulls him into the situation. Second, Roy's shown to be pretty insecure despite his tough guy imagine. He's kinda codependent with Keeley in s2, we have that "what if they think I'm shit" line when he was going on that sports show. That and a few other things point to Roy being a fairly insecure person. I suspect Roy doesn't think he can help. He doesn't trust himself not to make the situation worse and thus is more than happy to let Beard, Ted, Rebecca, and Keeley handle the situation. I think both factor into his anger at Ted manipulating him into handling the locker room bullying of Nathan in early season 1.

So yes, I think he saw the papers. Ted does address it in front of the whole team before practice (training...whatever) but he probably thinks it's none of his business. He might even think it's a kindness to to Ted to ignore it. He certain doesn't think he's equipped to handle the situation. But I do not, for a moment, think it's because Roy doesn't care. I think he's also following a bit of Ted's lead her. If Ted's treating Nathan a certain way, he'll follow that lead.

As for it he thinks it's Nate, I go back and forth. He might suspect and that suspicion might grow from Beard's interactions with Nate after the news breaks. Roy's usually pretty good on picking up Beard's body language (Beard might initially come off as stoic, but he's actually not hard to read once you get used to some of the ways he expresses himself). It'll seem really suspicious once Nathan joins West Ham. I'm sure Roy's probably got some emotions about all that and he's probably keeping them close.

#ted lasso #meta #roy kent

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gayfrenchtoast · 4 years ago

Text

Okay fine we're doing this. I havent read the books and I'm probably not going to I've only seen the movies so I'm sorry if anything I say is contradictory or has already been stated.

So! Descendants 3 was kinda shit and I dont like it but especially because of the ending because everybody was like "oh yeah island is open and we're all happy with no worries or implications about free villains or people being spiteful about being imprisoned for years!" In fact if anything they joked about those things.

The island is basically its own culture, I can't say how long it's been around, long enough for some almost adult kids to be about and to develop a kind of community.

The Isle is a place of poverty, people are dirty and on the street, eveyone steals from each other and most people don't put much effort into appearance upkeep (personal or of the sourounding area) not because of laziness or being "evil" but because they clearly don't have time or luxury to do such things or possibly even the clean water. Does the Isle have clean water?? How to they get electricity??? Someone tell me!

Another thing that I've noticed is easy to see but is not much explicitly said is the unique style of those on the Isle. As previously stated they don't have much but those who have the most "power" and such on the Isle are the best example of this As they have the most colourful outfits. However these outfits are often made out of patches and ripped things put together, even salvaged things like nets and chains as we can see on thing like Uma and Harry's outfits in D3 they make the best of what they've got and they do fantastic because their outfits are intricate and detailed and just tell you everything you need to know about them. Which is why it's a damn s h a m e when the original VK's ajust their style to be more like Auradon's. That's not an improvement! Be proud of where you came from!! It's like they forgot what it was like being on the Isle in D3!

Moving on, here's something that was touched on in D2 but not enough. Equality. On the Isle there is basically equal opportunity as in saying everything is shit and nome cares what gender and presumably what sexuality you are as long as you can work. Sexism is shown to be almost casual in aurodon from the looks of it, Chad makes sexist comments and litterally none else says anything or seems to see anything wrong with it except Jay who caves to pressure from peers and expectations. He does redeem himself because he's from the isle and he knows you shouldn't give a shit about anyone's gender or anything. If they can do something and ask to be included you give them that opportunity. The sexism is also implied in the way that the rule book has men written specifically in the first place and that it has taken until then for anyone but boys to be allowed on any kind of sports team. We never see it! It seems to be the hetronormative veiw where the boys do sport and girls do cheerleeding and other genders? What other genders? Never heard of that? BAD AURADON!! I bet there's so many trans folk on the island just living their lives, thinking Aurodon is the better place and not knowing that it's a cis het filled nightmare.

Okay no I'm headcannoning now, if their are now a bunch of Isle kids at auradon prep they find it fucking aweful the way all these preppy royals are treating them and make the first LGBT club in Auradon. There is lots of pushback and they get bullied a fuck ton for making themselves the most prominent queer folk in the school until a fight breaks out and the club demand that they should be treated better, taking all the evidence to fairy godmother who is very hesitant because COME ON she's never been that great she is biased to Auradon kids and if putting away those in the Isle is brought up she is all on it, she is jelly spined about doing anything against the royal kids. So the kids are like "Fine, if you won't help us we'll take this to the King himself!" Well mainly the queer mom's of the group (you know the ones I'm talking about) who lead the others and protect the anxious queers as they storm to Ben at his fucking locker and demand an audience because they are being harassed and bullied and none is doing anything. Ben had no idea there was even a LGBT club (too busy ig) and is gassed there is one for a moment before he's like "wait people are harassing you?" So Bisexual King Ben gets his lovely Bi wife and they start coming to club meetings and investing in the pins and stuff the club makes. Most club members are pleased but the queer mom's are apprehensive that this will help until some assholes come to the club to do their usual bullying only to find King and Queen Beast themselves siting there with rainbow bracelets and bi pins and all trying to have a nice old time eating their fucking cupcakes what the fuck are yall doing? The bullying dies down quick once they realise it ain't gonna fly, the other OG VK's that hear about this become members and very protective over their queer children. Did I mention Dizzy and Ceila are a part of the club? They're girlfriend's. Celia is one of the queer moms. Harry becomes one of the biggest protectors over the group as the pan dad. He's been going around snogging everyone and anyone wholl snog him everyone already knew he was queer they just didn't have the balls to try and bully him over it as much as they bullied the lil club members. But now Harry can often be seen in jackets and shit with pan and general queer patches and pins and running around with his gay children yelling "MOVE WE'RE GAY!!" He totally calls them his queer crew. Anyway as a result lots of queer royals start coming out of the woodwork, obvs Lonnie is one of them, and the club eventually serves to bring members of Auradon and the Isle close together.

Where was I? Yada yada auradon expects girls to be pretty princesses and boys to be brave knights or dashing princes. It's shit and should stop being portrayed as good. Moving on!

Food! One of the things we'll established in all movies is that the food of the Isle is shit compared to food of Auradon. The Isle has no fresh fruit which likely means its almost impossible for things to grow there which is fair because again there doesn't seem to be much fresh water and there are always clouds overhead so no sun. Maybe there is some people trying really hard to grow stuff but the general attitude of the Isle seems to be "there is no time for that" and fruits are forgotten so much that the VK's litterally don't knownwhat they are when they come across them. That and anything containing sugar. Actually it's mention by Dizzy and Celia that they enjoy the fact that the cake dosent have dirt or flies so basically food there is terrible. We don't see much food on the Isle but what we do see seems to be beans, eggs, chips and shellfish. Basically protine and carbs that can be easily stored and produced. To be fair beans are kidna good for you but they're likely a sign that if they get any imports from the mainland it is canned stuff. Prison food. There's probably some chef villain that is trying their best to make good food out of the shit but honestly the Isle dwellers should be angry that they've been deprived of good food for so long not happy they're finally been given decency.

Moving on, music! Auradon dosent have nearly as many musical numbers it seems, the Isle songs have a distinct style, to them, the villains that basically "founded" the place were masters of the dramatic songs (with backup or solo) so banging music is basically ingrained in the music's culture, even for battle as we see with the fight between Mal and Uma in D3. Meanwhile Auradon seems to have mainly romance and "I want" songs. Even Audrey's villain song is basically an I want song.

Okay let's talk about the Villains. We've established that the VK's are not inherently bad. However not all of them can be totally good and there are legit OG Villains just kinda chillin on the Isle. They've obviously lost quite a bit of their power, motivation and sanity (isolation will do that to ya as they lost everything and the VKs know no different) but deadass? They were bad guys. You can try to rehabilitate them sure but you've basically just let them free roam, they could make a runner and you wouldn't get the chance. They were also shitty patents which is brushed over/joked about in the interaction between Carlos and...man I feel bad I forgot her name deadass their relationship seemed to come out of nowhere in the second film she didn't seem interested in them at all and friendzoned them multiple times I'm pretty sure Disney did that becaue queer kids were relating to Carlos and headcanoning them as queer (which they deffinatly are) but deadass their mom is an attempted animal murderer and has hurt her child as we can see from how they're afraid of her and her rhetoric and yet it's "haha I'm afraid to meet your ma!" "Me too cus im a dog! Lol!" Fuuuuck offfffff

I think I'm running out of thoughts so here's a last one for now; with the magical barrier down a bunch of magical Villains kids should be coming out for the woodwork. We know Mal has magic basically stored in her so it's is possible, she technically doesn't need the spellbook to do magic it is just inherent to her. So with the diverse range of people from the isle there are deffinatly magic folk in there. Actually if we're following Disney movie law I saw something mentioning Jay being half Genie and yeah! He should be half Genie! Jafar got turned into a Genie he's probably only human because of the barrier! Oh also Ben should be able to go beast on command as long as he had a better beast form than he did in the movies. And give him back the beard and fangs like fuck you he looked so much better

Okay I'm done for now

#decendants #decendants 3 #mal #carlos de vil #jay #harry hook #uma

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bellshells · 4 years ago

Text

A Moment of Bliss

REQUEST: I would love a Sirius x Reader x Lupin smut, where they treat her like a whore but are really cute afterwards.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader x Remus Lupin Warnings: Mentions of war, Alcohol, Langauge, Smut (oh good dear lord the smut) Summary: Reader decides that everyone needs a break, and after a nice meal some naughty shit goes down. Word Count: 6.7k+

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. It was all too much, there was news daily now and none of it was good. Seeing the smiling faces of Marlene McKinnon and her parents on the cover of The Daily Prophet had caused you to fear the worst. You watched as Marlene’s father kissed her cheek as her mother waved, they were celebrating Marlene’s birthday when that picture was taken, she looked truly beautiful. You remember it well, how you had laughed and danced, a welcome break from the horrors of the war. You remembered with a smile how lucky Marlene’s parents had felt that they were able to bring Marlene’s friends together to celebrate their special girls’ birthday. You couldn’t believe their luck either now, how terrible it was. It had been months since they had been murdered, yet seeing her face plastered across the front page of The Daily Prophet caused your heart to ache with grief.

You felt a tentative touch on your shoulder and reached with trembling fingers to clasp the hand there, and leant your cheek against it. “You shouldn’t read it if it makes you upset.” A soft voice said behind you, you chuckled darkly and turned to face him. “Then I wouldn’t read anything at all, Remus.” You paused; your lip quivered as you gazed at the face of your lost friend. “I just can’t believe she’s gone.” You replied, you tried to smile at Remus but stopped short as his brow furrowed in concern. “Have you seen the awful guff that Skeeter woman has written about her?” Sirius called from the doorway, he wore a grim expression and held his own copy of the Prophet in his hand. “We can’t let this go unpunished, Moony.” Remus nodded and gave your shoulder a subtle squeeze. “I know, but we must act cautiously, Sirius. We can’t let her death be in vain. You’re no use to anybody if you get yourself killed.” “Dreadful.” You added quietly, more to yourself than to anybody else. Sirius stalked into the room, his eyes never on one spot for more than a few seconds. “How is it that we are expected to do nothing? After everything that’s happened, after everything we’ve…sacrificed. It isn’t enough!” Sirius stalked to the tapestried wall and punched it hard, he groaned as he pulled his hand away and shook it fiercely. The rooms of Grimmauld Place were quiet now, what once had been busy as the headquarters for The Order of the Phoenix, were now still as more and more allies lost their lives. Remus was upon his friend in an instant, he grasped Sirius by the shoulders and tried to calm him. “We mustn’t fall apart, brother. Not now.” Remus breathed, he took Sirius’ face in his hands and forced the bearded man to look in his eyes. “We haven’t come this far for nothing. She was special, one in a million, and I promise she will be avenged.” Sirius was defiant for a moment, he tried to free himself from Remus’ grip; but after a second more, he relented and sighed. “Yes.”

You stood quietly and made your way over to the two men; you hadn’t been close friends at school. You hadn’t been particularly close during the beginning of the war; but as the numbers thinned out as more and more people were killed, you clung to those who you knew you could trust. You slipped in between the two men and grasped both of their hands. “Let’s go and get some food. It’s been a long day, let’s have a drink for Marlene. She wouldn’t want us to mope about.” You looked between them, a sad smile settled onto Remus’ scarred mouth and Sirius squeezed your hand in agreement. You nodded at them both and lead them from the house, it was dark outside, and you kept to the shadows as you crept through the quiet streets toward Muggle London.

*******

“Leicester Square? Really?” Sirius asked with a quirked eyebrow, you pushed him toward the door to an Italian restaurant. “Yes, it’s busy and full of people. We’re not likely to come across anyone other than muggles having a Friday night out. Okay?” You chided as you waited for a muggle waiter to seat you at a table. Sirius squirmed uncomfortably at your side, Remus on the other smiled warmly down at you and placed a gentle hand on your back as you followed the waiter further into the restaurant. The restaurant was heaving with people, groups of friends laughed rowdily at circular tables whilst couples held hands and whispered to one another on smaller ones. You grinned at the normality of it all, you wondered what it must be like to have no knowledge of what was happening out there, of what you had lost. “What would you like to drink, (Y/N)?” Remus asked as he passed a menu in your direction, you accepted it gladly and turned to the waiter who stood with a notepad and pen in his hand. “Pinot Noir please lovely, bottle-one glass, thank you.” You said and with a fleeting look of judgement which you brushed off; the waiter wrote it down. “Yourself, sir?” He asked as he leaned down to hear Sirius as he scoured the menu. “Chablis.” Sirius answered curtly, you kicked him under the table and Sirius scowled. “Thank you.” “Is that a bottle, sir?” The waiter asked, his look now nonplussed as he shifted his weight. “Yes, thank you. Been a bitch of a day.” Sirius cleared his throat and offered you a pithy look. You shook your head and turned your attention back to the food on offer. “Long Island Iced Tea for me please, sir.” Remus said cheerfully, the waiter looked surprised at Remus’ order and a flash of humour crossed his face. Remus blushed and averted his eyes as the waiter confirmed the order and with a wink in Remus’ direction left the table. “You’ve made a friend, Moony.” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows as Remus blushed and sank into his chair. “I didn’t know you were gay, Remus! That’s fantastic!” You said and Sirius erupted into laughter. You watched as the two men exchanged looks over the table. “Have I missed something?” “No, (Y/N). Remus isn’t…gay. But you do like to dabble, don’t you Moony?” Sirius clasped his hands on the table and cocked his head to the side. Remus slammed his menu down and pointed his finger at Sirius. “You’re one to talk. I’m sure I could tell (Y/N) some excellent stories about you and your exploits, Padfoot.” Remus snapped, Sirius threw his head back and let out one short laugh. “I’ve done things that would make a whore blush, and unlike you, I have noting to hide.” Sirius said, his eyes sparkled in the dim light of the restaurant. You looked bewilderedly between the two men, this power play between the pair of them was delicious and strangely erotic. You could feel your own blush tickle your cheeks as Remus cast his eyes over you, his mouth a thin line on his usually soft face. “I think you’re making (Y/N) uncomfortable, Sirius. This isn’t really appropriate dinner conversation, is it?” Remus retorted, Sirius cast a glance in your direction and seeing your red cheeks, smiled. He inched his hand closer to yours on the table, his fingertips barely touched yours and yet you felt like you had been struck by lightning. The corner of Sirius’ mouth twitched into a smirk; his moustache twirled perfectly at the sides accentuated it as his face was illuminated by the candlelight. Seconds later, Remus’ knee brushed against yours under the table and you felt the warmth of the contact inch up your thigh as the blush on your cheeks spread over your body. “I can hold my own Remus, thank you.” You replied quietly, aware of how both men watched you as you fiddled with the menu. “I can hold my own.” “I’m sure you can.” Sirius said under his breath. The tension continued to grow between the three of you, even when the waiter appeared with your drinks and took your food order, his keen attention fixed on Remus; Remus stared at you. His breathing was shallow, and you could see his knuckles were white as he balled his hand into a tight fist on the table. You couldn’t help but notice how dark his eyes looked as you passed his gaze over his face, the soft contours of his cheeks and the scars that had lived there for as long as you could remember. He had a sort of ethereal beauty about him that was impossible to deny, the gentle exterior and the darkness that was promised underneath by the swathes of battle marks across his flesh.

You allowed Sirius to pour your wine and blushed again as he watched as you took a sip of the ruby liquid. You dabbed at the corner of your mouth with a finger and pressed it to you lips; the forgotten drop of claret soon mopped up with your tongue. You heard a sigh from Remus’ direction, your attention brought back to him. Sirius laughed again; his shoulder length hair tickled his face as he said: “I think we shall have some sport tonight, brother.”

************

You ate mostly in silence, only commenting on how delicious the food was- or, in Sirius’ case lamenting on the best way to eat a pizza as he attacked it with a knife and fork. When the plates were cleared, the wine flowed freely around the table. You had insisted Remus catch up and order a bottle for himself, and he in turn demanded that both you and Sirius have a cocktail to even up the score. Sirius ordered himself a Negroni whilst you opted for a Black Russian, you smiled at the two men began to relax into the evening. The sensual tension from earlier in the evening forgotten as through a fit of giggles you told Remus of the schoolgirl crush you harboured for him in your fifth year, he in his sixth. “Honestly, it was pathetic. Poor Lily tried everything she could think of to get us alone together so I could tell you how I felt.” Your stomach hurt from laughing so much, the sides of your cheeks ached, and you were delighted by the delightful shade of pink Remus had turned. “I’m telling you now, (Y/N). Moony only ever had eyes for one girl at school and she never looked twice at him!” Sirius laughed; he swirled the contents in his glass before he knocked back a big gulp. “Oh, please tell me who it is, Remus. I need to know who I was losing out to.” You said through your laughter. Remus mumbled under his breath, so quiet it was impossible to hear him. “What? Sorry I missed that.” You grappled at Remus’ hands as he tried to cover his face. “Who was it, Remus? I promise I won’t laugh.” Remus looked from you to Sirius, if looks could kill, his friend would be dead in his Negroni before he knew it. He took a deep breath and covered his eyes. “McGonagall” Remus whispered, Sirius slapped his knee in delight, and you couldn’t help the snort that escaped you as you thought of a poor, seventeen-year-old Remus hopelessly in love with the stern professor. “Have a thing for authority, do you?” You asked playfully, Remus’ look darkened once more as he lowered his hands. “Quite the opposite actually, (Y/N). I like the idea of those in power relinquishing it.” He said quietly, you felt as though everybody in the restaurant had disappeared as the only sound you could hear was the beating of your heart in your ears. You bit your lip and blinked, desperate to rid yourself of the warmth you suddenly felt between your legs. “I just like fucking.” Sirius added after a moment, he considered what he said and then lolled his head to the side once again swept his gaze across your face. “A lot.”

You didn’t know what to do with your hands as you regarded each of the men now staring intently at you. “Shall we get the bill?” Sirius asked. “Yep.” Remus answered instantly, his hand in the air as he tried to get the waiter’s attention. You grabbed for your purse and you each threw money onto the table; the muggle money was so fragile you thought. Especially the paper money, luckily Remus knew what-was-what and squared up with the waiter who looked disappointed to see Remus leaving. It was Sirius this time who placed his hand on the small of your back as you made your way out into the night, it was chilly now and you pulled your thin jacket around your chest. “Where to now?” Remus asked, “Home? Or another drink?” “I could have another drink…at home.” You said, you felt the warmth return between your legs and both men grinned at you. You slipped your hands into each of theirs, Sirius brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your fingers. Remus brushed the back of your knuckles with his thumb, each action from the two men sent electric pulses through your veins.

*********

“I’m telling you, (Y/N). If you had told Remus all the naughty things you wanted to do to him at school, he would have come immediately into his pants.” Sirius said as he poured port into three glasses and passed them around. You took a thoughtful sip, the richness of the port warmed you as you considered what to say next. “Who says I wanted to do naughty things? The things I had in mind were wholly innocent, I’ll have you know.” You replied, you snuck a look at Remus from the corner of your eye; he seemed completely interested in his drink. “Oh, I imagine they were, (Y/N). You were sweetness and light in school, weren’t you? Butter wouldn’t melt.” Sirius discarded his drink onto a nearby table and stood. He walked around his chair and placed his hands on the backrest, he leaned forward and squared his jaw. “I would have given anything to ruin you.” His gaze didn’t waver as a gentle moan left your lips; it was almost inaudible, but Remus’ head snapped up in your direction. You parted your lips and ran your tongue along them, they felt painfully dry. “Sirius, you’ve had too much to drink mate.” He said, Sirius merely shrugged. “In Vino Veritas, brother. You telling me that you wouldn’t have absolutely fucked her senseless if she told you she wanted you?” Sirius countered. Remus ran a hand through his hair as he took a swig of his port. “I am still here.” You offered weakly. Sirius sneered at you as he picked his tumbler up and swirled it around again. “I know, witch. I want you to hear.” Sirius said darkly Remus groaned in his chair, he shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, Moony. Me and you, her hot little body to keep us warm.” You moaned again; it was involuntary this time. Both men looked in your direction as you rubbed your thighs together, desperate to relieve the throb between your legs. Sirius chuckled ominously as he offered his hand to Remus. Begrudgingly, Remus took it. Your heart thundered in your chest; you bit the inside of your cheek; surely you were dreaming? You would wake up any second now, a damp patch in your knickers and a desperate aching in your quim. Sirius rolled the sleeves of his smart white shirt up to his elbows; he crossed the room in an instant. He knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees. You could do nothing but stare into the face of this man you had known in some capacity since you were eleven, as he moved up your body, his mouth close to your ear; his hair tickled your cheek. “Would you like that, (Y/N)? Would you like to lie between Remus and me? To be utterly filled to the brim?” You could feel his hot breath on your ear, you rolled your head back and sighed. Your eyes fluttered closed and Sirius’ lips grazed your earlobe, you clutched the arms of the chair tightly. “Just say the word, (Y/N). Just tell us you want us-” “You don’t have to, (Y/N). Don’t feel pressured-” Remus interjected, you stopped him short with an extended hand. You reached for him; his eyes darkened as he took your hand. You looked up earnestly into his face, the face that had littered your dreams for a solid nine months as a teenager. You smiled wryly at Remus whilst Sirius held his breath, still by your ear. “I want you.” You whispered, “Both of you.”

Sirius pulled you out of the chair and pushed you toward Remus, his arms extended to catch you. You placed your hands either side of Remus’ face and inched your lips closer to his, Remus closed the gap with a growl. He kissed you hungrily, it was furious, and you slid your hands into his hair and tugged. Remus groaned against your lips as your hands moved readily in his hair. You felt a tug behind you as Sirius turned you in Remus’ arms brought your mouth to his. You couldn’t decipher whose hands were where; as you felt your shirt being tugged over your head, and hands working at the belt of your jeans. You felt them being pushed down your thighs as you were turned once again to face Remus. There was a pair of hands on your breasts, roughly needing them through the thin lace of your bra whilst a hand graced over your stomach and one plunged into your knickers. “So wet already. Can you smell her, Moony?” Sirius grunted against your neck, his teeth grazed along the sensitive skin and he sucked hard. Remus only moaned in response, he bit down on your lower lip and you shuddered under him. Sirius moved his fingers deftly over your clit, he rubbed it gently and your head rolled back onto Sirius’ shoulder. “Make yourself useful, (Y/N). Why don’t you play with Remus’ big cock?” You didn’t need to be told twice, Remus’ lips pulled back into a snarl as you made fast work of his belt and pushed his trousers down to his knees. He was hard as you pulled him out of his boxers, he hissed as the air touched his member. You worked your hand up and down Remus’ shaft to the same pace that Sirius rubbed your clit. Remus pulled your head forward by your neck and crushed his lips to yours. Another moan slipped from your lips as Sirius parted your slick folds and pushed two fingers inside you, your grip around Remus tightened as he bucked his hips against your hand. Sirius quickened his pace, and your legs began to tremble as you began to move your hips against Sirius’ hand, fucking yourself on his fingers. You pumped Remus faster as a slew of curses fell from his lips. Sirius grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back roughly. You yelped in surprise but found your scalp burned pleasantly with the pain.

“I want you to come on my fingers, witch. Do you think you can do that?” You nodded helplessly as his thumb began to rub you as his fingers plunged in and out of your sex. Remus pulled away from you, your hand now empty of him, you brought it up to tangle in Sirius’ hair. “Fuck (Y/N), you have no idea how delicious you look now.” Remus whispered; he attacked your neck with wet kisses as Sirius brought you to orgasm. It flooded through you in powerful waves, your moans silenced by Sirius’ hand around your mouth. “Quiet. I want to hear your pretty noises, but not here.” Sirius instructed. As you came down from your high, you saw Remus nod to Sirius as they both grasped one of your hands. With a distinct pop you arrived in your Grimmauld Place bedroom, before you had the chance to adjust after the apparation, you were flung backwards onto your bed. You watched with half lidded eyes as Sirius and Remus both undressed fully, you could see clearly now just how well-endowed the pair of them were. Remus was bigger than Sirius, but Sirius was girthier. You licked your lips in delight, you couldn’t believe this was happening. Both of these attractive men lavishing attention on you, it was almost too much to bear. Remus climbed onto the bed; his arms open to you. “Sit on my face.” He commanded, you did so without hesitating. You hoisted a leg over either side of his head and lowered yourself gently down, his lips were gentle against your throbbing pussy, still recovering from your previous orgasm. Sirius appeared next to you, his hand slid down your back and gave your arse a smack, causing you to jolt forward. Remus grasped hold of your hips and held you in place, his tongue probing at your slippery entrance. It felt divine, Remus knew exactly what he was doing and as he kissed and nibbled at you, he began to shake his head from side to side. The feeling of his tongue rounding delicious laps around your clit was earthshattering, you had never felt anything as intense as this before. You were coming again in seconds; and you threw your head back and ground yourself against Remus’ face. You could hear Sirius laugh as Remus lapped at your core, you shuddered against him and whimpered at the overstimulation. Sirius grasped your hand roughly and placed it on his cock which throbbed impatiently. You moved your hand to the top around his foreskin and pulled back, Sirius smile illuminated the room as he moved your hair to the side. “No love, use your mouth.” He whispered, you slid awkwardly from Remus’ face and crawled before Sirius. You looked up into his dark face as he regarded you, he watched as you ran your tongue from the bottom of his shaft to the top. He sighed and placed a delicate hand to the top of your head, pushing it downwards. You didn’t mind, in fact, you thoroughly enjoyed it. The feeling of the decision being removed from your hands was delectable in a life such as yours, where at any second you could die from making the wrong choice.

It took you a second to adjust to Sirius’ girth as he began to fuck your throat, slowly at first and after you gave him a swift nod; he picked up his pace. You gagged around his cock as Sirius pushed it further into your throat, you had to swallow; or you thought you might choke. Saliva dripped from your chin as with great effort, you swallowed around his cock. Sirius let out a groan and grabbed a fistful of your hair. “Do that again.” He commanded, you instantly swallowed around him. He quivered and thrusted into your mouth with more force, you whined around him as with each time he hit the base of your throat, he pulled out almost as far. You mourned the loss of him in your mouth each time. He tasted salty with sweat, and you found that the most delicious thing you had tasted all evening.

Your jaw began to ache and though you did your best to ignore it, Sirius seemed to sense your discomfort. He pulled out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. “I want to come inside you, (Y/N). I want to make you come all over my cock.” Sirius breathed into your ear, he still held fast onto the fistful of your hair. You moaned against his lips as he brought you roughly in for a kiss. “Feeling neglected, Remus?” Sirius laughed as he surfaced for air. You looked over your shoulder to see Remus on his back, he stroked his cock lazily as he watched you. “On the contrary, just enjoying the show.”

You were breathless, positively alight with desire. Every inch of your flesh screamed with want and for a second you felt guilty, wanton almost. Every scrap of decorum you previously possessed ebbed from your body with each illicit moan, and every time you passed yourself between these two men you couldn’t help the grin that formed on your face. The lascivious acts you had both endured and performed were more than you could ever ask for from one partner let alone two. The bottom line though, you felt, was if it was wrong or if it you weren’t meant to enjoy it…why were you enjoying it so? “Come here, darling.” Remus said softly, as if able to hear your thoughts. He held his arms out to you and you crawled into his embrace gladly. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and his hands travelled down your back to your rump, he squeezed it and gave it a playful tap. You smiled widely at him and kissed him deeply, your hands found themselves again in his hair and his mouth trailed hot kisses from your mouth along your jaw. Sighs of contentedness fell readily from your lips as Sirius approached from behind you. He brushed his hand softly up your arm causing your flesh to tingle under his touch. You heard Sirius whisper a spell and with a start you were thrown onto your back, propped up on the pillows; your legs brought up spread wide and bent at the knee. You felt soft fabric wrap around your wrists and the backs of your thighs as your arms and legs were bound together, leaving you bare, open and vulnerable to both men. Another soft piece of fabric settled over your eyes, completely covering your vision, and leaving you without sight. A fleeting moment of zealous insecurity bounded through your mind; you had never tried anything as adventurous as this with any of your previous partners. There hadn’t been many, mind you- but still you felt a little out of your depth. What flashed through your mind next was Remus’ kind face, you knew he would never let anything happen to you. You knew you need only say the word if you were uncomfortable and there would be no hard feelings. He would probably make you a cup of tea and talk about something innocuous until you felt better. And there was Sirius, who earlier on had felt so incensed over what had happened to Marlene that he was willing to put himself in danger- yes, you knew you were in safe hands.

“How does that feel, (Y/N)?” Sirius asked from a way away. You pulled against your bonds slightly, you couldn’t escape them, but they weren’t painful. “Indescribable.” You breathed. You smiled, unaware if either of them could see your face. You felt a soft caress of your inner thigh, your breath hitched in response. Your cunt ached with need, regardless of the two orgasms you’d already had by Sirius’ quick fingers and Remus’ clever tongue. “We’re going to play a game, aren’t we Remus?” Sirius said jovially, as if he were speaking of Quidditch in the sun. “Oh, yes. I love this game.” Remus replied from elsewhere in the room. You would have liked to think that your hearing would have been heightened by having your sight stripped from you; but you wondered whether the disorientation you felt as the two men moved around you was part of the game. “We’re going to fuck you now, (Y/N). One after the other. You are to guess who is fucking you.” Sirius said. You felt a hand tug on the restraints around your knees and a hum of satisfaction. “You are not allowed to come unless you guess correctly.” Remus added somewhat cruelly. You frowned and felt another hand caress your breast, they took your nipple in between their fingers and gave it a tug. You yelped with surprise and tried to lurch upwards, but a hand against your chest pushed you down again. Where the fingers were on your nipple a second ago, you felt a tongue trace around the stiffened teat. They sucked hard and you bucked your hips upward, desperate for something, anything to ease the throbbing you felt in your quim. You were wracked with worry though, what would happen if you couldn’t tell them apart? “Our girl’s needy, wouldn’t you say Sirius?” Remus said, oh, it was Remus who suckled on your breast. You felt his hot breath on you as he pressed wet kisses across the valley of your breasts and then lavished the other nipple with the same delicious torture.

You needed to come. You needed release desperately. You bucked your hips upwards again and a whimper escaped you. Fruitless. “Please.” You whispered blindly; you didn’t know if they were even listening to you. “Please fuck me.” “Who?” A voice answered quietly, you weren’t sure who answered you, you bit your lip. “Anyone, both of you. Please, I need, I need-” “Look at us Moony, two dogs with a little bitch all tied up and begging.” Sirius said, you had no idea where he was. He seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. Like his voice filled all of your senses and yet left you achingly touch starved. “Isn’t that something?” “Yes, the irony isn’t lost on me.” Remus replied, he too seemed to float in the ether around you. Like a voice from a dream, almost tangible. You began to struggle against your restraints, it was torture. You wanted nothing more than to be fucked by these two men and the longer they made you wait, the more restless you became. “(Y/N), are you ready?” You nodded as definitely as you could, you braced yourself for what, you couldn’t say. Another agonizing minute passed before you heard any movement. You could feel the heat from a body between your legs, it was impossible to say who it was as they leaned forward to press their member between your slick folds. Whomever it was pushed into gently, you squealed as they filled you torturously slowly. You moved your hips against him, desperate for the friction. When they didn’t move you let out a grunt of frustration. You heard him chuckle, whoever he was, and he gave the smallest thrust into you. “Please-” You mustered, your voice was small and full of want. You wished you could take this person in your arms and fuck him, but with your arms and legs bound together, all you could do was lift your hips. He was big, bigger than anything you’d had before. You felt the sting as he stretched you out with each miniscule thrust. You felt fit to burst, like you could explode at any second if you weren’t fucked and fucked well. You writhed beneath him, impatient and desperate.

You weren’t prepared for what happened next. Your mouth was forcefully opened, and a cock slid inside. Whoever wasn’t buried in your cunt took your mouth. Incredible. You spluttered against it, as the cock inside your quim began to move. You moaned throatily as you were utterly filled. The cock inside you began to push furiously into you, bruising your cervix with every delectable thrust. It was almost manic now; you were being tossed around something chronic and with every thrust from inside you caused the cock in your mouth to be pushed further into your throat. You wanted to badly to feel them around you, you wished to lavish your lovers with touches of encouragement. “Fuck.” That was definitely Sirius. But you couldn’t work out where. Dear Merlin, you needed to come. Please, you begged to anybody that might listen, please. You hollowed your cheeks against the member in your throat and tried to suck, but the force in which they fucked your mouth let you do nothing but try and keep your teeth out of the way. “Fuck, fuck.” That was Remus. His voice seemed to be closer than Sirius. You moaned again, as the man between your legs lifted a hand and began to rub your clit. That was it, you were going to come. The man between your legs fucked you harder as if he could sense this, the room was a cacophony of moans, of delicious skin on skin and you could almost float away in the bliss. You felt your orgasm begin to reach its peak, but that wasn’t allowed was it? Nobody had asked you to guess? You decided not to bring it up, but to reach the climax you so desperately craved.

The thrusting into your core was desperate now, incensed. You could hear the cries of a man about to spill his seed. The man in your mouth pulled out and you clamped your aching jaw closed immediately. You felt hands around your throat and pressure as your moans became heightened, matching the orgasm that now sizzled through you. “Oh...Lord!” The man between your legs came, you could feel it. “Fuck, I’m coming.” That was Sirius, you were sure of it. A slew of curses whispered in the distance and you could feel his thrusts become weaker as he filled you full of him. “Sirius.” You whispered with a smile. “It’s a bit late for that you naughty slut.” Sirius snapped, in an instant the ties around your arms and legs vanished and they fell to the bed with a thud. They ached, you ached. You had never been fucked that hard and you groaned as you rolled onto your stomach. You were pulled up sharply by your hips and onto all fours. You craned your neck round to see Remus behind you, red faced and sweaty as he lined himself up with your entrance. You noticed his chest was littered with scars and you wanted to run your tongue along each one. “Need to come.” Remus muttered as he pushed into you roughly. It was like night and day to the way Sirius had fucked you, Remus pulled a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back sharply. He wasted no time in building a rhythm, he rutted into you mercilessly. You cried out, the pain in your scalp along with the pleasure in your loins was almost too much for you to bear. “God Moony, I’m hard again just watching you fuck her.” Sirius said, his voice was strained as your eyes met. He was perched against the pillows, his back to the headboard as he stroked his now hard cock. His eyes were dark, and he licked his lips as he watched his best friend pound into you from behind. Remus let go of your hair and brought his hands to your hips in a vice like grip. He pushed and pulled you onto his cock, you could feel the wetness you had created trickle down your thighs.

Your voice was hoarse as you came for the fourth time, you had cried and moaned and whimpered for what felt like hours. You felt tears sting your eyes as the pleasure trundled through your veins, your walls tightened, and Remus gave a great cry before he thrust into twice more and you milked him of his orgasm. He fell forward onto you and you went with him, falling onto Sirius’ chest with a grunt. Sirius wrapped his arms steadily around you and bundled you close to his chest. Remus pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder as he slid from on top of you and pulled you in between them, Sirius on the right, Remus on the left. You breathed. From the bottom of your lungs you gasped in great breaths. Sirius’ fingers travelled from your neck to the base of your spine and back again, and Remus stroked lazy circles on your stomach. You hummed contentedly as your heartrate returned to normal, you nestled your head into Sirius’ chest and wiggled your hips against Remus earning a laugh from the latter. “Comfortable (Y/N)?” Remus asked into your hair. You hummed in agreement and let your eyes close. “Well our game didn’t go much to plan, did it Moony?” Sirius asked, you could hear the smile in his voice. Remus’ chuckle vibrated against your back. “No, not quite. Someone obviously didn’t understand the rules.” Remus said, he tapped your stomach playfully and you groaned. “I understood perfectly, thank you very much. I just couldn’t hold on much longer. I was desperate.” You sighed and Sirius placed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll have to do better. We won’t be as lenient next time.” Sirius stated. Your eyes fluttered open and gazed up at Sirius face, he was joking, surely? “We certainly will not.” Remus confirmed from behind you, you felt your stomach leap in excitement. “Next time?” You murmured; this couldn’t be happening. No, not to you. Remus rolled you in his arms, so you faced him, Sirius shuffled down the bed slightly and wrapped his arm around your middle. “You think I’m going to go the rest of my life without ever fucking you again?” Remus questioned; his brow furrowed but you could tell he was being sincere. You pressed your finger to the scar that ran across the bridge of his nose and traced it lightly, he closed his eyes against your touch and pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand.

You were still. The three of you. You must have fallen asleep; you have no idea when or how long for; but Sirius stirred behind you and your eyes opened wearily. “(Y/N),” he whispered, “Rem. Come on, we need to bathe.” You lifted your head from Remus’ arm and yawned, your bodies were stuck together with sweat and who knows what else. Remus groaned and pulled you closer to him. Sirius bent to kiss your cheek and shifted to the side of the bed. “Shall I run you a bath, (Y/N)? I imagine you’re very sore.” “Yes please, I’m broken.” You joked and shot a wink in his direction. You yawned again. “Do you fancy a coffee?” “I’ll put the kettle on.” Sirius said as he pulled his discarded boxers on over his manhood, he flicked the light on as he exited the room. You turned your attention back to Remus who looked so peaceful, you felt guilty disturbing him. You placed a tender kiss to his lips, and he smiled. “Come on, we need to get up. We absolutely stink.” You said softly, Remus only pouted and pulled you even closer. “Don’t want to.” He replied stubbornly. You laughed and pushed his arms from around you. You rubbed your eyes and trailed your hands over your neck and chest, the skin there tender. “(Y/N), can I ask you something?” Remus said, he had propped himself up onto his elbow as he watched you. “Of course.” “Why didn’t you ask me out when we were in school?” He asked you quizzically, you groaned and flopped backwards onto the bed. He inched closer to you and placed a hand on the side of your face, turning it to him. His green eyes intently fixed on yours. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I was scared you would say no. My little fifteen-year-old heart couldn’t have taken it.” You replied with a chuckle. “I wish you had.” He paused thoughtfully; he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I would’ve said yes.” “Really?” You pondered, he hummed and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips and suddenly, he was gone. You opened your eyes to find him at the other end of the room pulling his boxers on. “I still might.” Remus winked, he left your bedroom with a yawn and closed the door.

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. It was all too much, but the butterflies in your stomach reminded you that even in the midst of the horrors of this war there was still happiness to be had. Even if it came in the shape of two very unlikely men. You couldn’t believe your luck, how much it had changed.

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