#i should give them separate ones but let me give vinnie a full name first

[ervona]

🔱🌴😞💯 forrr whomever !! :33

back to Vinnie... and a special guest :)

🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming?

She learned how to swim in a pool, she'd love to swim in the Donigarten lake, but it's considered a bit gross. And the sea... unfamiliar to her but there's at least one sea in the Underdark

🌴 PALM TREE — does your oc have a green thumb? do they enjoy gardening?

I've answered for her and Lu but I want to bring in a character who actually enjoys gardening: Llether! Since moving out of the city it's been useful to him, and even before that he grew some ingredients that he cooked with. His daughter can hunt, some of it they can sell

😞 DISAPPOINTED FACE — does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone?

I was a bit stuck on this one... taking into account the etiquette in Menzoberranzan, but I will say among her peers she occasionally attracts people who want to take a look at her pets... she's rather attractive in context and gets compliments too, for her style etc

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Her first pet was a little bat, but at one point it flew away... her current pet is a smaller version of a giant lizard kept on a leash which loves (trying) to eat spiders so much it's a problem now

She wants Tsabrak to be a T'orgh wizard, he wants her to be a Xorlarrin priestess, they both decline this because of how their houses would respond, and argue about this the most. It's dire

Most of her students really dislike her, though few express it… Ironically that means they learned well, she doesn't express the breadth of her dislike for them. She doesn't even like being here

this became three of her problems. sorry...

[snarkwrites]

ssw | juice ortiz ; when he can't go any deeper | m

Notes:

Okay so here's the thing.. This is a bit of a glimpse into the future / what if for a fic I'm about to start writing.. well, re-writing. Despite me knowing jack fuckall about strip clubs / exotic dancing / how to describe someone giving or getting a lapdance or pole work, I got the idea to have Hazel working two nights a week in a club, idk why.. Anyway.. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are, loves.

Also.. I'm no longer just dipping my toes in the filth pool anymore. I went all in with this, oops rip. If anyone wants me to actually write the fic I have in mind for this... Pls.. I beg.. LMK.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

kiss me up against the wall // moan my name as you come // when he can't go any deeper. - those were all the inspiration / prompts for this.

Fandom / Character:

Sons Of Anarchy / Juice Ortiz x Teller Morrow!OFC, Hazel

Fics Hazel can be found in:

None..Yet.

** the one I've used her in is being discontinued to do a rewrite.**

Warnings:

No minors, full stop. There is NSFW / adult content ahead. If you're underage, this was not meant for you -nor should you be reading this. If you choose to stick around after my warnings, this is strictly a you thing and it's not my problem or fault.

If you choose to go on and read this, these are the things present you need to be aware of: stripper!ofc - I admit.. I really am not too sure on how strip clubs operate, so.. if I'm wrong, sorry. lap dancing. thigh riding. body fluids tw. unprotected sex. That's pretty much it.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@sassymox

@twistnet

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. | FANDOMS I WRITE FOR]

I swear I wanted to melt into the floor when I happened to glance out in the crowd and see Juice Ortiz sitting in the back with his eyes glued to the stage. I froze where I stood behind the curtain peering out and for a good five seconds, I heavily contemplated just bolting out the back door of the club.

But if I did that, I’d be out of the killer tips I’ve been told I could get dancing at this place. I wouldn’t have an outlet to express myself freely, either.

,, I had to know this would happen sooner or later. Charming is a small town and the guys from Samcro do come to this club. Even taking the audition and showing up tonight was me, taking a huge risk… So I had to know this would’ve happened at some point if I actually get the gig.” the thought came and I took three deep breaths. The hope was that I’d center myself.

Spoiler alert… it did not happen.

But I did catch sight of a brunette wig. And I convinced myself that between the wig and the dim lighting and the fact that Juice was so far away from the front of the club where I’d be dancing on the stage, he wouldn’t figure it out.

I’d just finished putting on the wig when the club owner cleared his throat and nodded to the curtains in front of me. “You’re up, kid. Do this right and Tuesdays and Thursdays are yours. Fuck it up and you can forget ever getting a chance to try again.”

I scoffed at him for a second or two but he stared me down, humorless.

My favorite Motley Crue song began to play and I stepped through the curtain. Out onto the stage and just as I did, I happened to see that prick AJ Weston and the guy who bought one of the shops downtown making their way to the table right in front of me.

My stomach dropped.

Those cold and emotionless eyes locked on me and he smirked. Nodding to me and leaning in to the shop owner. His best buddy or whatever. I don’t try and keep up with whose pissed off my father day by day, so I didn’t exactly know names.

All I did know was that for whatever reason, my mother’s scared to death of AJ Weston. She thinks she hides it, but she doesn’t. And my mother is not a woman who scares easily.

Suddenly, my biggest worry wasn’t Juice sitting in the back of the club anymore. It was the prick sitting right in front of the stage. I strutted out on the stage, not bothering to make eye contact with AJ Weston, no matter how hard I could feel him staring at me, willing me to do so. I tore off the cropped leather jacket I wore over my favorite red lace bra and after twirling it in the air a time or two, I tossed it onto the stage, hitting the floor. Writhing. Arching my back and crawling around, whipping my hair around to the song playing. I kept away from the center of the stage because I did not want to lock eyes with AJ Weston. I literally had zero desire.

The crowd was starting to get into it. I started to feel that rush like I used to feel when I danced in Las Vegas. I completely forgot about AJ Weston, thankfully. And what started off as a bumpy dance got smoother. Even more so when I found myself searching the crowd. Finding Juice in the back and locking eyes with him. That seemed to cut out a lot of my nervousness.

My hands drifted down my body, and I caught myself pretending they weren’t my hands but Juice’s. Just the thought of him feeling me up, his hands pinning my hands over my head. Pressing into me. The way he’d feel strained against those baggy jeans when he bucked against me in the heat of the moment. I used my dirty mind to fuel the dance. Letting my hands wander down to the waistband of my leather pants, working them down.

The crowd was really getting vocal now. They usually do when the clothing starts to actually come off. My stomach fluttered nervously when I locked eyes with Juice in the back of the club and I actually saw the way what I was doing on stage was affecting him.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. Spread his legs a little. Squirming around. He nursed a glass of whiskey and his eyes wandered up and down my body slowly. When I hit the floor and started to writhe around, my back arching and my ass up in the air, he bit his lip. Watching intently. Rubbing his chin in thought.

Out towards the front of the club, right in front of me, I heard AJ swearing. Laughing out loud. I wanted to strangle the asshole, especially when he really got started with all his stupid filthy commentary as if he were mocking me, as if he were somehow better than this place even though he was willingly sitting here, of his own volition… But I went back to blocking him out. Focusing all my attention on Juice all over again instead.

Imagining what I’d do if I truly had half the nerve. What I’d let him do to me if I weren’t so damn afraid of falling in love with a Samcro man.

Because if I were going to love one, I’d choose him. Hands down. If I were ever to settle, I’d want to settle with Juice Ortiz.

My song was nearing an end. My dance was slowing down. I made my way up the pole again, grinding it as I inched up it. Slowly. Seductively as I could... Eyes locked on Juice the entire time as I flipped myself upside down and started to wind around the pole, spinning slowly with my arm outstretched as the other arm gripped the pole to hold myself. And just before the official end of my song, I dropped to the ground, crawling away from the pole. Towards the front of the stage, bolder. Getting closer in the hopes I could at least get a little better look at Juice’s face because I was dying to see the expression on it right now.

I smirked in his direction and gave a teasing wink as I pulled myself off the floor and slunk towards the red velvet curtain separating the back of the club from the front.

“Stormy Knight, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone wants the VIP experience, find Vinnie.” the announcer called out over the rowdy crowd. I was just about to reach for the doorknob on the door that lead into the dressing room when a throat cleared behind me.

“Not bad, kid. If you can bring that every single Tuesday and Thursday, gigs yours.” the club owner was standing there, smirking. He almost looked like he felt bad for doubting me in the first place. He added casually, “Had three guys come to me about VIP dances. I usually leave all that to my girls to work out. That’s extra dough in your pocket, makes no difference to me. I know half of ya have extra mouths to feed.”

I eyed him, my mouth falling open.

“Three guys? Like.. altogether?”

“No, no.. Two were together. One was by himself. Belonged to one of the MCs. Just do me a favor and at least attempt to obey club rules, kid. Don’t go gettin knocked up on the clock.” the man laughed and I took a deep breath.

At best, I figured that the biker in question was probably one of the Mayans I’d seen sitting towards the middle of the club.

I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly who the two men were and after mulling it over because it seemed as if my new boss was awaiting a decision from me, I decided I wanted no part of the risk of having to give AJ Weston and his slimy friend a private show.

“I’ll take the biker tonight, man. I’m not feelin up to a three way.”

The owner nodded and mused thoughtfully, “Good idea, kid.. That one guy out of the two of ‘em looked like his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. I’ll go get your biker and bring him back. You got room 3. That was Gina’s old room.” before walking away, disappearing out into the front of the club again.

“Please god… at least let it be the J.D Pardo look alike if it’s one of the Mayans.” I muttered to myself, not daring to get my hopes up that it’d be Juice.

A throat cleared from behind me. I nearly shit myself when I heard Tig Trager mumble with a laugh, “Okay Ortiz. Go get your girl.” before walking away. I did not dare turn around until I knew Tig was long gone.

“Stormy, huh? That’s one hell of a name, baby girl.” he mused aloud.

I turned around slowly. Found myself body to body with him. He was staring down at me intently, licking his lips. Chuckling as he shook his head and leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Does daddy know you dance, Hazelynn? Because if he’d been here… Seen all that…” he fanned himself and gave me a teasing smirk.

My mouth dropped open.

“How? How’d you know?” I stammered out.

“I saw your car parked outside… Life pro tip, princess.. If you wanna keep this a secret, I’d suggest parking around back. Or catching a ride. Because your car? Kind of hard to forget.” Juice’s hand settled on my hip and he pulled me just a little closer. His eyes dipped down, settling on my lips, a quiet groan coming when his intent stare made me lick my lips and fidget a little.. Melting against him a little before I could stop myself from doing it. Giving a sheepish laugh as I glanced up at him.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Relax.” he chuckled. He must have felt how tense my body was as I pressed against him. I let out a shaky breath. Parts of me wanted to ask the logical question, if he came here a lot, but also, at the same time parts of me definitely didn’t want to know. Those parts of me knew that if I did ask and he said he did, I’d get just a little jealous. Because it already happened whenever I’d see him at the bar and he’d have Croweaters flocking to him.

“Guess I owe you a VIP.” I teased gently, nodding towards the door with the gold star and the black number 3 painted on it. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand, starting to lead him in the direction of the room.

“If you don’t wanna do this…” Juice frowned slightly and acted like he was going to walk away, but I stopped him. Made him look at me.

“It’s fine. It’s part of the job.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I opened the door to the room, stepping inside. Letting him step inside.

He closed the door behind him and we found ourselves body to body all over again. He muttered quietly, “Confession… I saw that Weston asshole and his idiot friend talking to the owner about a VIP dance with you so I went over and offered more money.”

Between the goofy little shit eating grin he gave me as he said it and the fact that he did that because he knows the guy creeps me right the fuck out, I was blown away. Before I could stop myself, I rose to tiptoe, gently pressing my lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’re an actual angel come to Earth, sir. You have definitely earned that dance.” I muttered softly as I pulled back to look up at him.

He bit his lip and my eyes followed the movement helplessly.

If I thought I was making myself wet on stage with my own dirty imagination, it was nothing compared to how wet I got when I locked eyes with him and realized that he was fully aware that I’d been staring at his mouth like a proper idiot.

I stepped close to him again and placed my palm on the front of his cutte, gently shoving him so that he settled in the chair right behind him.

Right away, his hands went to my hips. I lowered my hands, pushing his hands back down as I shook my head. “No touching. Club rules, Juice.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” he gave an awkward laugh and I giggled softly. Sinking down into his lap slowly.

Maybe I was slightly exaggerating out in the hallway when I told him I could do this and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The second I settled in his lap and started to grind against it, I could feel myself dripping just a little more. I rose up slightly and he sucked in a breath. His knuckles went white with the way he was gripping the arms of the chair. His eyes were absolutely glued to me and I smirked. Teasing a little. Acting as if I’d take off the cropped leather jacket over my bra only to pull it back up.

The third time I did this, he growled quietly. Bucked himself against me. When I whimpered and grinded myself down harder against his lap, he muttered in a heated whisper, “You feel what you’re doing to me right now, baby girl?”

Oh. I felt it alright. The way he strained at his jeans, cock still twitching and growing harder and harder. The little friction I was allowing myself wasn’t enough. My cunt was throbbing and I was getting so wet that I was pretty sure when I finished giving him his lapdance the poor guy was going to have a wet spot on his jeans.

“Mhm.” I answered in a daze, leaning in so that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear and my tits rubbed right against him. He whimpered and bucked into me all over again and when I slipped out of his lap, he frowned. I hit my knees, parting his legs. Staring up at him from where I kneeled on the floor and he shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tighter when I started to rise up. Swaying my hips side to side. Leaning in. Rubbing against him as much as I could get away with. Oh, I was definitely using this little VIP dance he paid for as an excuse to do as much touching and teasing as I thought I could get away with.

All those urges to touch him I normally kept at bay were finally being allowed free reign and it felt so good.

I settled on his lap again. He let out a long and shaky breath and we locked eyes. He was staring at me like he wanted to ask me something or he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Nothin, it’s nothin.” he said it quickly. Too quick. I gripped his cutte and pulled him in closer. My mouth inching dangerously close to his as I muttered against it, “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me. I can handle it.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” he muttered. After a second or two of staring at his lap, he looked up at me again and asked quietly, “Did you wanna dance for me?”

“I got the owner to come get you, didn’t I?” my heart was beating faster. I thought it’d jump right out of my chest. I did my best to play as cool and casual as I could but every single part of me wanted to tell him that dancing was not all I wanted to do for him.

“I know that… what I mean is.. Forget it.” he went quiet. Looked down again and I gripped his jaw, making him look up at my face. “Eyes up here, Ortiz.” I teased gently, my smile falling away when I saw the serious and somber look in his eyes. I scooted away a little, an attempt to give him some space. Settling myself over his thigh instead of fully positioned on his lap as I had been.

“Talk to me.” the words left my mouth in a whimper as I pressed myself right against his thigh, rocking my throbbing sex back and forth over it. Getting wetter and wetter with each second that passed. And the ache. Oh god, the ache. I was on the brink of frustrated tears. And I couldn’t break down, I couldn’t act anything less than totally professional, because this was my night job and I was on the clock but God.. did I ever want to.

He spread his legs wider and took a deep breath. Trying not to touch me, but I could tell with the way he kept raising his hands only to put them back down on the arm rests of the velvet covered chair he sat in that he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

And the thought of those hands on me had me flooded in a split second. If there was any doubt before that I’d leave a wet spot behind on his jeans at the end of this dance, there wasn’t going to be by the time it was over.

Anticipation and desire had my stomach coiled tightly. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to pick up with this back home… Behind closed doors. Just him and I.

But I knew that tonight was most likely just going to be an awkward little secret. Kept between two friends. And it bothered me, because I wanted so much more than that but I was afraid to cross lines and let myself have that… I doubted it was even an option anyway because I just didn’t think Juice even saw me like that.

Sure, we flirted now and then, but nothing ever came of it.

God, did I want it to.

This heavy tension seemed to settle in all around us and I picked up on it. Juice groaned quietly, and after he nearly broke the no touch rule again and very nearly reached out to grab hold of my ass and rock me against his thigh faster, I leaned in.. Pressed against him as I continued to grind against his leg and muttered against his ear, “Most guys put their arms behind their head… Til they’re used to not being allowed to touch.. They get verbal too…” my words hitching in my throat, rushing out over each other breathlessly.

He raised his hands, locking them behind his head. Sprawling back against the chair. It seemed to help ease the tension built in his body too, because I felt him sort of melting into the chair a little and I smiled.

“C’mon.. Tell me what you want me to do.” I coaxed, fixing my eyes on him and biting my lip when I immediately found myself getting sucked far too deep into his gaze.

“Touch yourself.” he muttered. Raising up a little. Leaning forward. “Touch yourself for me, baby girl… Like you were when you were dancin out front.”

I let my hands wander.

They were shaking slightly and I just hoped to God that it wasn’t noticed.

Juice took a few shaky breaths and bucked a little in the seat. “Come closer.. Get on my lap.”

I moved so that I was straddling his lap and the way his cock strained against his jeans and I tried to stop myself, but as I started to rock myself back and forth over it, I whimpered quietly. My breath caught in my throat a time or two and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to beat out of my chest.

“I normally don’t buy dances if I come here.” he muttered quietly, shattering through my own current internal struggle.

Knowing this relaxed me a little. It was obvious he didn’t just going off the way he acted, but.. I still wondered. Some guys like to pretend it’s their first lap dance because it gets them going.

I’m not here to judge anyone.

I mean.. I have a good paying day job as a legal assistant and here I am.. Dancing two nights a week whenever I can find a club to take me just so I have some form of release.. Just so I can feel intimacy that for whatever reason, I tend to deny myself in reality.

I almost asked him why, but I remembered what he told me out in the hallway about outbidding AJ because he knew the guy scared me. And I stopped myself, even though parts of me hoped there was more to it than that.

My hands moved over my chest and I rocked myself over him faster. My breath catching in my throat as I felt myself rushing straight into an orgasm I’d been trying like hell to hold back the whole time we’d been in the VIP room.

I could feel my body burning up under his gaze and he leaned in again. Muttered breathlessly against my ear, “If you’re nervous..”

“It’s fine.” I pretended to brush it off. I acted as chill about doing this for him as I possibly could.

“Turn away.. I wanna watch you movin from behind, baby girl.” he muttered. The request caught me by surprise a little, but I kind of realized that he was doing it more for me than for himself.

I did what he asked, turning in his lap so that I faced away. My eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirrored wall in front of us. As I started to rock my ass over his bulge, he growled quietly. Bucking himself up into me. Biting his lip as he did it three more times. Muttered in a lust filled daze “Fuck yeah, baby girl.. Work that ass.”

Just the way he said it had me dripping all over again.

“Faster.” he panted, bucking himself up into me all over again. Harder.

I tried not to, but I found myself imagining that he was taking me from behind. A fist full of my hair and my tits pressed right against the mirrored wall in front of us. And I rocked myself back and forth over his cock, pressing down even harder. Moving even faster. Almost close to a blinding orgasm.

“Fuck.” I swore quietly.

Juice sat up in the chair. Pressing his chest into my back. Muttering against my ear, “ Did you wanna dance for me like this?”

“Juice, I told you already.” my head fell back and my eyes fluttered open and shut. I squeezed my tits and rolled my hips faster. My breath came in short pants because I was so close to an orgasm that I was throbbing. He was leaning in again to whisper. “What I mean is if this wasn’t your job.. And it was just me and you… Would you wanna..” he rocked himself against me all over again. Harder. With more urgency as he swore under his breath and muttered that if I kept it up, he was going to come all over himself.

“ Turn around facin me.” he panted, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver rushing through me. I turned back around in his lap to face him. Raising up a little. Teasing him by putting my tits at level with his mouth. Squeezing them together before lowering my hand. Toying with the waistband of my leather pants. Teasing him like I’d take them off.

“ Tease.” he pouted up at me.

“ That’s kind of what you’re paying me for right now, Juice.” I gave a soft laugh as I tucked a finger beneath his chin. Pulling his mouth dangerously close to mine. He licked his lips in anticipation and when he did, his tongue brushed right against my mouth. I whimpered helplessly.

And I just barely kept myself from exploding.

“You’re tensin up on me, Haze… Somethin wrong?” Juice asked quietly.

Looking at me as if he were bracing himself for something bad to be said.

By this point, I was so caught up in the moment, in the way it felt to grind myself against his cock and get out all these long denied urges to touch him to my hearts content.. It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Honestly? I’m a breath away from coming and this never.. Ever… happens to me when I’m givin a private dance.” my words came in a breathless rush and as soon as I realized what I’d just said, I lost my groove for a second or two. Slowing down. Trying to pull myself together.

Hoping to God that I didn’t just make things awkward for him and I in the future because I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

His mouth opened and closed and his hands gripped the arm rests again. Tighter.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? Feelin you dancin on my cock like this? Knowin I.. Knowin that this is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get? Fuck… If I were ever lucky enough to have you all to myself, baby girl...”

His words caught me by surprise. My heart fluttered a little and I swallowed hard. Going still in his lap just to stare at him.

The lights getting brighter and the music in the room going quiet had both of us jumping apart. I realized that probably meant my time in the room was done and before I could give myself a chance to back out, I slipped off his lap and held out my hand to him.

“ C’mon.”

He eyed my hand and took hold of it, standing. I practically drug him out of the room and then down the hall. Out the door and into the back lot behind the club. Once the door was shut behind us, I started to pace in front of him. Just trying to put it all together.

Torn between continuing to fight what I felt for him and caving in.

When he stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms, staring down into my eyes intently, something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I had his back pressed against the door of the building. My hands caught his, holding them over his head as I rose up slightly and crashed my mouth against his mouth.

Devouring. Hungry.

At first, he didn’t really react. But when the shock cleared and he realized what I was doing, he came alive. I melted against him and he growled into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Teeth latching onto my bottom lip and tugging until I felt it starting to bruise. I let his hands go and they were all over me. Settling on my ass. Rocking me up against him and making me whimper and dig my fingers into his shoulders. I couldn’t melt into him any more if I tried. I was so exhausted from trying to hold back in more ways than one at this point that my filter was totally shot. I rocked myself against him clumsily, a begging and needy whine filling the space between our mouths as the kiss broke when I just couldn’t hold it back.

“Do you know why I almost got off giving you a lap dance? Do you know what you do to me, Juice? I.. I tried so hard not to fall for you and yet.. Here I am.”

He blinked in shock. For a few seconds we stared at each other, panting for our next breath. Neither of us saying a word.

Then he bent and scooped me up. Started to carry me towards the end of the alley where he’d parked his Dyna Glide.

I didn’t do or say anything to try to stop him. I didn’t want to.

I’m so tired of keeping him at arms length. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel.

He sat me on the back of his bike and I grabbed hold of the front of his vest, pulling him down. Pulling his mouth down against mine all over again because I just.. I was needy. I craved him on this level I couldn’t even begin to get my head around.

His bike came to a stop in front of his apartment building and he got off. Scooping me up all over again. Stopping just outside the doors leading into the building to grope and kiss me. Letting his lips stray down the side of my neck. Sucking a mark deep into my skin. I clung to him and begged breathlessly, “Juice, please..”

Neither of us was really stopping to think. I didn’t want to.

I wanted him.

More importantly, I wanted to be with him. And tonight just proved to me that I couldn’t fight it anymore.

The whole time he was trying to unlock his apartment door, he kept fumbling with the keys. Rutting right against me. Stopping to kiss or touch me. When he finally got it unlocked, he stepped through the door and stepped over to the couch. Tossing me down onto it gently. Following close behind. Pressing himself down into me and snapping his hips against mine, making me whimper. My whimper echoing off the walls of the quiet room. I reached down between us, tugging at the hem of his white t shirt and he rose up, pulling off his vest and tossing it at a chair nearby. Then pulling his shirt off and tossing it too. It settled on the floor in front of the chair. Then he was pulling me up. Tearing my bra away and tossing it out into the room. My hands lowered, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and he bit his lip. Gazing at me for a second or two with this look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Savoring the moment and what was about to happen.

Because it’s been building for a while, apparently. I just focused so damn hard on keeping myself from caving in and letting myself have what I wanted, with him, that somehow, I missed all the signs.

“Baby, c’mon.” I begged.

The term of endearment slipped out.

He gave me that little smirk. Rubbed his chin in thought as he let his eyes wander.

He worked his way down my body, using his body to part my legs. He worked my leather pants down my legs and I kicked them free at my ankles.

His fingers caught in the thin strap of my panties and they came away with a quiet tear. I tried to get him out of his pants again and he lowered my hands. Slipping off the sofa. I watched intently as he teased me, pouting about it. Begging.

I needed him buried inside me. Fucking me. Slow. Deep. All night long.

His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked off his boots and then kicked his pants free from his legs. When he dropped his boxers, I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on the way his cock stood at attention once it was free from fabric. He was pressing himself down into me all over again.

His mouth roaming over my tits. Tongue teasing my nipples as my back arched away from the sofa and I rocked myself against him. His free hand settled between us, circling his thick cock. Teasing it between my folds and making me shiver and cling to him. Try to rock myself against him urgently.

And then he buried his cock inside me. Shallow at first. Going still to let me adjust to him. I felt like I was being split in two and the feeling had me whining. Nipping at his chest, at any patch of skin I could get my mouth on just so I could muffle the way I wanted to scream his name at the top of my lungs.

I rocked into him clumsily and he growled quietly. His hands going down to my hips. Holding them still as he started to pound me harder. Deeper. So deep he couldn’t go any deeper. When he bottomed out, I dragged my nails down his back.

“Not yet, baby girl. C’mon, hold out just a little longer for me.” Juice coaxed breathlessly as his hips crashed against me with a bruising pace. I begged for release, on the verge of tears. The more I begged, the more he’d slow down. Stop to kiss me or leave marks on me. Torture.

Slow, steady and deep torture.

“You gonna moan my name when you cum?” he questioned, slamming his cock deep into my womb. Going still and capturing my mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. “ God. You’re so.” he panted, snapping his hips against mine, cock pistoning in and out of me with steady deep thrusts, “So fuckin wet I can barely stay in. Fuck. Shit. Shiiiit, baby girl. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Juice! Ah, -ah fuck. Right there.” my back arched away from the couch and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving me weak and dazed, clinging to him as I tried desperately to keep up with his pace, spent. Dripping. My walls vising his cock and clenched around it. Tears flooding my eyes because holy fuck, all I’ve wanted for the entire time was to finally be allowed to let go.

Juice stared down at me from above, a soft gaze. He caught a tear as it made a black trail down my cheek. Chuckling quietly. Going still to pepper kisses soft against my mouth and then trail them down the front of my throat. When he started to move again, he muttered against my lips softly, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m right here.” as he pistoned in and out, the wet sloshing sounds accompanying each thrust he made seeming to make him move just a little faster. His hands were all over me and all I could really do was lie there, pinned beneath him. Whimpering his name as I tried to come down from the high. Stare up at him softly as my mind spun, replaying every single thing that led us here, to this exact moment.

“Oh fuck. Fuck baby girl. You want it?” his hips stammered, smashing against mine in a bruising pace and his words were swallowed by another hungry kiss and I nodded. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he did. Striking against my throbbing g-spot a time or two and growling, biting. Locking his lips against my neck and sucking yet another big,deep mark into soft flesh. The warmth of his release flooded me, making me whimper. Overfilling me, because I could feel the excess slowly leak down. Puddle beneath me on the sofa.. I bucked my hips against him greedily trying to take it all because I wanted it. I needed it. I craved him so badly I couldn’t have put it to words if I tried. He leaned into me heavily, panting for his next breath. Spent. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on our bodies. I grabbed hold of his face and pulled his mouth against mine. Our foreheads pressed together and he muttered quietly, “Mine?”

“Yours.” it shocked me when the word bubbled out. It shocked me because a, I was saying it and b, I meant it. With everything in me. As soon as I said it, he gave me a soft and lazy grin. Pressing his lips to my forehead. He collapsed onto the couch settling behind me. Pulling me on top of him.

Quiet little soft kisses. Caressing my face as he stared up at me and caught sight of one of the bigger marks he left on my throat, grimacing as he chuckled about it quietly.

“Fuck me. Baby, that was amazing...” I groaned out in a daze, making him laugh and gaze up at me. “Give me an hour, babe.” he teased…

“Careful. I might take you up on that.” I teased back, melting against his body. Letting his arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

[danidoesathing]

Dr. Corenthal is the dad of the Slenderverse AU Part 2: The Electric Boogaloo

HERE WE GO AGAIN LADS

IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR DAYS

I’m stealing a lot of ideas from my discord and Tim’s alters are from @jaysbabyknife

Some ideas from: @habitmorelikefuckyou, @benjamin-benny-ben, @cryptidalex, @jaysbabyknife and others (but I don’t have their urls)

I would like to preference this with the fact I do not have DID. If I get anything wrong I’m sorry, please let me know so I can change it.

So anywho, lets get onto the domestic headcanons

—————————————————

-This should be obvious but the Corenthal household is LGBT+ friendly!!! No homophobes and transphobes allowed thanks!!

-Evan and Alex play Overwatch and Forenight together a lot

-“DAD SAYS IT MY TURN TO USE THE XBOX”

-Steph collects bugs! She really likes them and finds them fascinating

-Milo still has Oscar the cat

-Stan has a little garden back behind the house

-Tim and Jay are dating because I said so

-There first date was them exploring the woods together, neither of them thought it was a date until Tim had the impulse to kiss him and he did and then went “K bye see you next time” and they’ve been dating ever sense

-The Corenthal household loves Jay, he’s practically one of my them at this point

-Jay has a bunch of lizards and rats and he bring them over from time to time

-One of them is named Jimothan and he’s a big baby

-Sunday movie nights with family. Friends and datefriends are allowed but if your corenthal’s kid you gotta be there

-Patrick and Michael share a room. They could have separate rooms but when Michael has a nightmare or panic attack (something that used to happen often) Patrick calms him down, and vice versa

-Tim reads a lot of books

-One of the rules of the house: If you see, think or even feel something wrong, you tell someone. It may be nothing, but it could be something

-Everyone still takes medication

-Alex reads a lot of comics and really like superhero movies

-Jeff isn’t really a fan but he’ll take Alex to see them anyway

-Alex dresses up as Spiderman for Halloween

-Tim works at a movie theater not too far from the house

-Roger dragging Vinnie out to the woods to search for Bigfoot and the Mothman

-Michael, Tim and Jeff both love music and play together sometimes

-Patrick still dresses in really fancy outfits whenever he can

-Stan is dating a girl from down the road named Susan

-They’re that cutesy couple who everyone hates for being too cute

-Tim has DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder)

-“Masky” in this universe is name is Vendetta, Ven for short. He saw the movie once and said “that’s my name now”

-He’s selectively mute. He usually uses sign language

-He’s like.... a huge dork. Like he’s still feral and stuff but... he’s a major dork

-He tends to wonder the forest when he wants to be alone

-He’s got a huge crush on Jay. He keeps leaving jay wildflowers (with dirt and roots) and is like “DOES HE LIKE THEM??”

-He keeps wanting to hug and kiss him all the time and Tim is just like “please stop”

-Tim: “Alright we’re going to hang out with ja-“ Ven, forcing himself to the front: “JAY??? JAY?!? 💕JAY!!!”

-He and Jay have to talk by texting for a while

-Jay learning sign language so he can talk to Ven and Ven goes “!!!!!!”

-come on Jay how come you get two boyfriends

-Ven likes to walk around at odd hours. Tim will wake up at Burger King at 3:46 am and be like “Fuck”

-Loves!!! Rain!!!

-Halloween is his time

-Dr. Corenthal has to turn on tracking on his phone so he can find Tim when this happens

-He has a younger alter named Billy, who’s ten years old

-He is baby

-He makes fun of Tim a lot and loves armadillos

-He keeps trying to convince Jay to steal one from the zoo and Jay is so tempted

-Alex is excited because he’s not the youngest anymore!!!

-He wants Tim to be a cowboy for some reason

-Billy: “Dr. Corenthal can we get an armadillo and name it Sprinkles” Corenthal: “It kills me to say no but-“

-He helps Stan with his garden sometimes

-Billy also loves Sparky

-He has an alter named Mary and she is a mom

-She is very calm and respectful to everyone

-She’s so.... soft

-Protective af

-She and Dr. Corenthal like to sit and just talk

-She gets very worried whenever Evan has his knives out cause like... it’s dangerous and Christ he’s gonna hurt himSELF PUT IT DOWN

-She really likes to draw. She’s a really good artist

-Mary would like.... die for this family

-Her favorite band is The Oh Hellos

-Tim: *stays up until 1am watching Netflix eating drunk food* Mary, on the verge of tears: “Please.... just go to bed”

-All of Tim’s alters love Jay. All of them

-When Dr. Corenthal found out Tim had DID he was like “Great!!! More kids!!!”

-Brian will come over a lot and play with Alex

-D&D nights on Tuesdays

-Stan tutors a 3rd grader named Willow from down the road

-Milo still writes in his journal

-Noah really likes photography

-The Rake is there but he’s not... evil or anything he’s just.... there

-Alex and him can talk like, telepathically kinda of

-Alex puts little hats and stuff on the Rake and he’s cool with it

-Milo and Noah will go out at weird times, like they leave at 2am for milkshakes because they just want milkshakes

-Patrick is the go to man for events outfits. He’s got a top notch fashion sense

-Of course living in a house full of people that mostly wear hoodies and flannel gives him a headache

-Once when Alex was 8 he convinced Jeff to perform in his school’s talent show. Jeff really didn’t want to do it but he wanted to make Al happy

-The whole family showed up and were so proud of them

-VERY LOVING AND HAPPY FAMILY

[quickeningheart]

Seventeen

   When Charley entered the apartment at the end of the day, she was greeted with the rich scent of chocolate. Her mouth watered as she inhaled deeply, and her stomach growled; she hadn't gotten around to lunch, after all. Or much of a breakfast, for that matter. "Is that chocolate cake I smell?" she called.

   The bathroom door opened and Alley's head popped out. "Better," she replied.

   "Better than chocolate cake?" Charley lifted one of the towels spread over a baking sheet, eyes widening at the sight of round, red cakes cooling on them. "Are those…?"

   "Red velvet whoopie pies. They were your favorite, right?" Alley approached with a grin, pulling off a pair of rubber gloves. The heavy scent of cleaning chemicals and air-freshener followed in her wake. "I still have to add the filling, yet."

   "Who needs filling?" Charley picked up a still-hot cake, juggling it between her hands, and took a large bite. She sighed blissfully. "Still as good as I remember!" She finished it off in two more bites, sucking the sticky crumbs from her fingers.

   "That's great, Charley, but now there's a pie without a top."

   "Oh, well, we can take care of that." She picked up another pastry and wolfed it down.

   Alley laughed. "I think those boys have been a bad influence on you," she teased.

   Her cousin just smirked. "So what brought on this rabid bout of baking?" She glanced at the four trays of cakes sitting on the table, waiting for their filling.

   Alley fidgeted. "I made them for you. As an apology," she admitted. "I'm sorry I said all those things in front of your friends. I wasn't trying to embarrass you or make you look bad or anything. I was just worried."

   Charley grinned and shrugged. "Well, no big surprise. The filter between your brain and your mouth never did work right."

   Alley stuck her tongue out, slapping Charley's hand away when she reached for another pie. "I'm being serious! I feel really bad about it."

   "Look, I'm honestly not that upset. Just my pride got a little bruised, is all. But you know I'm not the type to hold grudges. Besides, something good came from it."

   Alley raised an eyebrow when her cousin blushed faintly, a goofy smile spreading over her face. "You look like a teenager crushing on the hot guy in class," she teased.

   "He is pretty hot," Charley agreed, laughing when Alley pulled a face. "Or maybe older men are more your type," she added slyly, "given that little scene I walked in on this morning and all…"

   "That was—!" Alley blushed to the roots of her hair. "That was…"

   "Kinda hot, is what is was," Charley snickered. "Another second and the kitchen might've erupted in flames."

   "Another second and I'd have punched that letch through the wall!"

   "Hmmm." Charley eyed her cousin thoughtfully. "If you really wanted to punch him, seems to me you'd 've done it."

   "What are you implying?" Alley huffed. "That I'm giving in to his charms? No way! I'm not into furries. Especially old furries."

   Charley laughed. "So you admit he has charms, eh?"

   "What? That isn't—!" Alley pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, if you want to date Vinnie, that's all fine and dandy. Knock yourself out, I'm honestly happy that you're happy. But please just … don't…" She faltered, not wanting to upset her cousin all over again. "I'm not—"

   "Okay, okay. Relax," the mechanic soothed. "I was only teasing. I understand. I really do, and I promise not to say anything else about it, all right?" She drew a line across her lips, turning an imaginary key.

   "Thank you," Alley replied with a sigh, opening the fridge to grab a bowl full of whipped filling. She offered it with a sheepish smile. "Want to help me frost?"

   "Only if I get to lick the spatula."

   She snickered. "You're such a kid."

   "Damn straight. Keeps me young." Charley grinned and riffled around in the bottom cabinets until she unearthed an ancient Tupperware container. She pursed her lips, eyeballing the container, then the cakes. "Ummm … pretty sure all these ain't gonna fit in here."

   "Is that the only container you have?" Alley looked horrified.

   Charley chuckled. "I'm no master chef. Never needed more than one before."

   "I'm just gonna have to buy you the whole damn kitchen and be done with it," the blonde grumbled.

   "Like you can afford that."

   "I can with the jewels Stoker left behind."

   There was a marked silence; Alley reached up to pull down several dinner plates from the cabinet, deliberately ignoring the irritation on her cousin's face.

   "I told him I didn't want his charity!" Charley burst out.

   Alley pursed her lips, setting the plates down with a thunk and fixing her cousin with a hard stare. "That's your ego talking. Can't you tell the difference between charity and a heartfelt gift? But, whatever. Since you didn't want it, he gave it to me, instead."

   "And you have no problems accepting handouts."

   "I fail to see how this is a handout," Alley replied, pulling a roll of wax paper from a drawer and tearing several sheets from it to line the plates. "He found the jewelry, didn't he? And he already took what he needed from it. The rest of the jewels are just junk to him. But they're worth a pretty penny to most humans. So, rather than tossing out some incredibly valuable rocks, he deemed it more economical to give the rest to you, so you can take what you need from them. I don't think that's charity so much as some pretty damned useful recycling."

   Charley opened and closed her mouth several times, trying for a retort, but finding none forthcoming. She huffed and picked up a well-worn spatula, using it to slap a large dollop of filling onto half of a pie. She used a little too much force, however; the pastry crumbled easily, leaving a red and white gooey mess sitting in her palm. She scowled down at it for a second, until a choked giggle had her switching her glare to Alley, instead, who was doing a poor job of hiding her amusement. "Shut up," she grumbled, flinging the mess at her. It landed smack-dab in the center of Alley's chest, earning an outraged squeak.

   The tension broke as Charley broke into giggles of her own, her irritation melting away. "Okay," she admitted grudgingly. "I suppose I might have possibly let my ego overrule my common sense on this subject, but it doesn't sit right with me to just be handed a huge amount of money like that." She sighed, turning on the sink to wash her hand off. "I busted my ass to get this garage up and running, and to keep it going despite everything conspiring to shut me down. To accept help, no matter how well-intended, just feels too much like … giving up. Like admitting I can't do it."

   "Nobody would believe that," Alley scolded, dabbing at the frosting on her shirt. "Those guys wouldn't think less of you. You mean the world to them. They just want to help, the same way you've been helping them all this time. You consider each other family, right? Isn't family supposed to support each other when it's needed?"

   "You make a good point," Charley conceded.

   "I've made a lot of good points. You just didn't want to listen to them. And I guess that was my fault, too."

   "Well." Charley leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "I'm listening now. Do you have anything else to say about my business practices that you think I should know?"

   "Actually…" she hedged, "I think I've got an idea that might solve some of your problems. At least on a temporary basis."

   "Oh? Do tell."

   "Well, in regards to those gems, if you're that determined to keep your garage running by yourself, why not just sell them and open a separate bank account with the money? It could be like a … a disaster relief fund or something."

   "A what?"

   "Give the guys the money. They don't have any of their own, right? In that sense, they're way worse off than you," Alley pointed out. "You can set up an account for them, under your name."

   "Okay…" Charley nodded. "And doing that would accomplish … what, exactly?"

   Alley rolled her eyes. "Well, for one thing, if they put any more holes through your doors, or manage to blow up some of the much-needed equipment to do your work, they can actually pay for it, for a change. Rather than you dipping into your own savings to cover replacement parts or whatever, dip into theirs, instead." She held up a finger. "And also! Those fancy, highly-expensive upgrades you're always giving those bikes of theirs? You'll no longer have to pay for them yourself."

   "That doesn't seem right, making them pay for stuff I always offered for free," Charley protested.

   "What's the big deal? Not like they actually earned any of that hypothetical money," Alley pointed out dryly.

   Well, Charley could hardly argue with that logic. She huffed a laugh and shrugged. "I guess it's not bad, as far as ideas go," she grudgingly admitted. "It doesn't really work as a long-term solution, though."

   "Well, no, I did say it was temporary. Whatever money the gems bring in would run out eventually, but at least it'd give you a chance to catch up and rebuild your finances. Take some of the pressure off, for a while at least."

   Charley tapped her chin, staring into space as she thought. "I'll talk it over with the guys," she decided. "See what they think."

   "That mean you'll do it?"

   "I guess it wouldn't hurt to give it a try." She shrugged. "It'll get those furballs to stop nagging at me, if nothing else." She grinned and shook her head, shooting Alley an impressed glance. "Really, I dunno how you do it. First, getting them to eat something other than junk food, and now this. All these years with them constantly putting holes through my walls and now they suddenly grow a conscience about it. Did you take a class or something? Guilt Trip 101?"

   Alley scoffed. "Please. Have you met my mother? That woman's got guilt-tripping down to a science, and she's practiced on me my entire life. Those guys never stood a chance!"

Next

[theautofocusblog-blog]

As they say, a picture paints 1000 words.

Earlier today I saw a really cool concept shared on Twitter. Shea Serrano had a Getty photo of LeBron James’ clutch shot from Monday’s Cavaliers/Wizards NBA game. He then proceeded to break down the image and write exactly 1000 words about it (you can read his article here).

This is a hugely interesting concept, as not only do you get to analyse the image, but you have to really hone your writing skills to make the comment exactly 1000 words. So I thought I’d give it a go – mainly to challenge myself. For my piece, I’ve chosen a photo that makes me smile and should break down easily enough to write about.

Thanks to Spacesuit Media for letting me use this, you can find their website and more about them on my current clients page. Photo taken by Shiv Gohil at the 2016 Le Mans 24 Hours - June 2016. 

Now I’m no journalist or professional writer, nor are my Photoshop skills anything to write home about, so this will probably be a bit rubbish, but I’ll give it a go! Here we go. 1000 words starting now:

The Man Himself

If you’re into motorsport, (or even if you’re not) you’ve most likely heard the Senna name. Be it Ayrton or Bruno, the iconic surname is branded into every racefan’s brain.

This motorsport moment features the latter Senna, Bruno. In 2016, he secured himself a seat in the FIA World Endurance Championship, racing with RGR Sport by Morand. Being a full season entry in WEC automatically gave the Mexican outfit a grid spot at one of the endurance calendar’s best loved races – the 24 Heures du Mans. So you can understand why he’s smiling. The Le Mans race is essentially a weeklong celebration of all things endurance racing and here you can see Bruno enjoying the driver’s parade which goes through the town of Le Mans itself. Armed with a Sharpie and ‘hero cards’, a driver is ready for any autograph or photo opportunity that comes their way – even if they’re dressed as silly English K-nig-hts.

The 84th running of the race was Bruno’s first time competing in a prototype since driving an Oreca in 2009. And while the rest of the world was busy focusing on the tragic end to Toyota’s epic race, the RGR squad were putting in a top-ten finish. Senna, alongside Filipe Alburquerque and Ricardo Gonzalez finished 15th overall but that’s 10th in class. You might say ‘that’s not that impressive’ but remember that the 24 hours is a tricky beast to tame, and though Bruno had previously driven Le Mans on three separate occasions he only managed to finish once. That 10th place is looking better now eh? Especially when you consider the sheer talent in the LMP2 field. 23 cars, over 60 drivers and 10 former Le Mans winners. As it happens, Signatech Alpine team found the perfect combination of talent, determination and luck and crossed the line first in class. Congrats to Nicolas Lapierre, Gustavo Menezes and Stephane Richelmi.

Knights of the Realm

This isn’t something you see every day. A bunch of grown men dressed in silly costumes? You’d be forgiven for thinking this was a student night out somewhere. It is however, just another day in Le Mans build-up week. Where nutters from all over the world (I am happy to count myself as one of them) come together to make up a weird and wonderful crowd.

There’s varying levels of commitment in this bunch – I am thoroughly impressed by the guy at the back who’s gone and got a helmet and everything. In contrast, his mate on the left who seemingly thought that nobody would notice if he just used the hood from his jacket. Come on man, you won’t be finding the holy grail looking like that. Though he does seem to have a strange, grey growth coming out of his shoulder – I got confused trying to work out whose sword that was. Don’t you just love the mind tricks that photos can play?

Let’s talk about the guy on the left for a minute. He might be taking his role a little too seriously. Everyone else looks happy and like they’re having fun. That guy looks like he’s stumbled straight out of an action movie via a Monty Python prop cupboard. It’s a very Vinnie Jones face. Does Vinnie like endurance racing? Has he ever been to Le Mans? Would someone go ask him please?

The Clearly Happy French(?) Man

When I say the words ‘Typical French Man’, what images spring to mind? If you said beret, striped shirt, red scarf and oodles of onions, clearly you’re not alone in your thinking. Whoever this man is, I applaud him for sticking to his French stereotype – it’s good for some amusement for the rest of us. The only thing he’s missing is a cigarette and maybe a twiddly moustache, but 10 out of 10 for effort.

The Manor flag sported by his largely obscured friend is a nice touch too. Well done to you if you spot him – I pretty much missed the guy completely. FYI it was a couple of onions that gave him away!

One Man Rebellion

Maybe he’s a Senna fan? Perhaps he missed the memo from his friends about being Knights? Or maybe he just wanted to get involved in the moment.

You can almost hear the noise he’s making just from his facial expression – that ‘wheeeyyyy’ sort of noise that has become synonymous with lads everywhere. This guy supports Rebellion and he’s going to do it in the manliest way he knows how. Go on my son.

‘I don’t know what’s going on but it looks hilarious’

I imagine myself having this face a lot.

That look when you see something utterly daft and you can’t help but smile (a smile mixed with a little bit of wtf, but a smile nonetheless.) And who wouldn’t chuckle at the scene occurring on this man’s right? A bunch of men dressed as knights posing with an incredibly smiley man in a onesie? It’s certainly enough to make me giggle.

Let’s take a step back…

For me, this image captures some of the many things about Le Mans that I love. The willingness of the stars to grant their fans wishes. The range of people brought together by a common passion. And just how silly it can all get. Nobody takes themselves too seriously – in the paddock or out of it.

If you’ve not made the journey to Le Mans (that’s also a good film by the way), do it. Seriously. Not only will you be treated to some spectacular racing, but you’ll become part of one of the best families out there. For the whole week, the area becomes a hub of happy, like-minded people – it’s like one big party. A party where you can meet your heroes and get up close to some of the most impressive machines in the racing world. Yeah, it’s pretty damn special.

Get yourself out there, and you’ll probably find yourself wearing a smile as big as Bruno’s.

Phew, that was tougher than I thought!

Thanks again to Spacesuit Media and Shiv for letting me use the image, to MotorsTV for sharing the LeBron James photo post and thanks to Shea Serrano for the original inspiration and format for this post!