#i will be putting zero pressure on myself to do all the prompts

[heavyheavycream]

hullo! i want to do Fatguarddog's feedist kinktober 2024, and i want to explore more extreme dynamics and exagerated situations

i've created 2 new oc's that i'll be mishandling for the occasion. i've made them furries so that i feel confortable doing more outlandish cartoonish stuff with em

all that to say if you're uncomfortable with straight up furry p💖rn you can block #butter_and_jam (i'll be censoring most of it for tumblr anyway)

cheers!

[stayevildarling]

Hi I know you have been very busy and lacking motivation so zero pressure at all but I wanted to request a fluffy/hurt/comfort with Delia, Mina, Billie x Reader with a few prompts. You can use all of them or none of them totally up to you!Hopefully it sparks some inspo, if not no worries at all. Sending lots of love to you and all the good energy! Put yourself first always please!!

Prompts:

“Why are you crying?”

“You’re bleeding”

“I want you to kiss me right now”

“Will you sing for me?”

“Your hands are soft”

“Can I braid your hair?”

Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Crimson Shadows

A/N: I just want to thank you so so much for this dear anon <3 I absolutely love these prompts and it sparked my inspiration for sure

word count: 4k

tw: mention of violence, mention of blood, mention of witch hunters, mention of knifes, mention of smoking, mention of anxiety, mention of nightmares, angst, fluff/comfort

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime, @p1pecleanerwitheyes

The sun dipped over the horizon, casting soft shades of dark orange and red tones over the grounds of Miss Robichaux's Academy. It had been an ordinary day today, both Cordelia and you working at the academy and your other two lovers at their respective jobs, Mina being her badass self in HR and Billie chasing spirits away for her show. The air is filled with the soft smell of the countless candles lit in the room and the tea you had made for both you and the supreme a little while ago. Cordelia sits across from you in her office, typing away on her computer, watching you lost in a book as you offered to keep her company and help out in any way you could.

Just as the tranquility settles, the phone on Cordelia's desks rings, slicing through the comfortable silence. You watch as she picks up the phone, assuming it's another council business she would have to take care of. However her expression quickly darkens as she listens to the voice on the other end. She stands abruptly, the chair scraping against the wooden floor.

,,Witch hunters have attacked Hawthorne Academy'' she explains, her features filled with concern and fear, while her voice remains steady but laced with urgency. ,,I have to go'' she explains before getting ready to teleport.

You stand up, your heart pounding in your chest. ,,You are not going alone'' you argue. And you knew about this subject and how scared it truly made her, despite your girlfriend not letting it on. You had been at the academy and beside them for years now, long after witch hunters attacked the coven but you had heard the stories, the occasional nightmares that still haunted the supreme and you knew how much she hated it, watching her tense whenever one of the younger witches would bring it up and ask about the subject out of curiosity. There was no way you would let her go alone and go through that pain and fear again.

,,There is no time to argue darling'' Cordelia insists, grabbing her coat. ,,I need to protect them''.

,,And I'm not letting you do that by yourself'' you retort, your determination matching the supreme's.

The blonde hesitates, her eyes searching yours. She knows it's dangerous but at the same time you are her most promising witch. She fights an internal battle of using that strength as she knows she could need all the help she could get. On the other hand you are one of her most prized possessions and she never wanted anything happening to you, knowing the dangers of this. Finally she nods though, grabbing your hand and teleporting you two over there as quickly as possible.

As you find yourself in the academy, the signs of chaos instantly greet you. Smoke fills the sky an acrid smell of burning wood and magic filled the air, causing you to cough a few times. The academy grounds are a battle field and it takes you a minute to get used to your surroundings as you always admired the beauty of this academy whenever joining Cordelia on one of her meetings here. Witches and witch hunters clash, the sound of gunshots and spells lighting up the sky like fireworks.

Cordelia's face is filled with determination as she charges right in the middle of the storm, quickly finding most of the witch hunters and sending them flying across the nearest wall. You are quick to follow behind, using your healing magic to heal some wounded witches currently on the ground. When they open their eyes, you see both the fear and the gratitude in them and you make sure to tell them they are safe and that everything was going to be alright.

The supreme moves with a lethal grace, her spells striking down the attackers with precision. You follow her every step, your own magic surging in response to the threat. Together, you manage to fight through the chaos and pushing back the witch hunters.

,,Oh thank you so much Cordelia'' the headmistress thanks the supreme as the chaos has been fought for now. Cordelia is quick to help the woman to her feet, the two of them walking a little to talk this through. ,,Y/N darling, grab some witches and place protection spells for me please'' she asks and you nod quickly, before some of them follow you.

While you work your magic alongside the others, making sure this place was protected for the future, some of the teachers at the academy are quick to alert the council, knowing they needed to act quick to identify the attackers still on the ground unconscious and prevent further attacks. You are surprised how quick everyone manages to react, almost as if they had done it countless times, their magic working wonders and quickly to get the place back to looking beautiful, spells being cast without a care in the world as if their whole world didn't just crumble, as if you and Cordelia hadn't just saved them from doom and death.

As you make your way back to Cordelia, wanting to make sure this didn't trigger her past too much, the tide suddenly takes a turn. One of the hunters on the ground, manages to shake off the unconsciousness, reaching slowly for a large blade, a wicked smile on his face. ,,Cordelia watch out'' you scream, watching it happen out of the corner of your eyes but knowing you can't react this quickly. As the supreme turns around, the blade lunges forward at Cordelia. She reacts swiftly, but not swiftly enough, having been caught off guard, assuming that danger was averted. The blade catches her in the side and she crumples to the ground, clutching her wound.

,,No'' you scream, rushing to her side, the other witches and headmistress quickly making sure to take him out and drop him back on the floor.

You drop to your knees, holding onto Cordelia as the blood seeps through your fingers. ,,Delia...Delia you're bleeding'' you mumble pathetically and if you could think clearly right now, you know how stupid you sound. She had just been hit with a knife, of course she would be bleeding.

,,I want you to kiss me right now'' she whispers through pain and your expression turns from shock to utter sadness and panic as her words register and why she is saying them.

,,Stay with me.. it's okay.. it's going-'' you struggle to stay calm as tears pour from your eyes, the fear of losing Cordelia almost knocking you to the ground yourself. Her brown beautiful eyes flutter open, pain etched across her face. ,,I'm okay darling'' she whispers, her voice weak. ,,Just need to.. stop the bleeding''.

In a quick motion you tear a strip of fabric from your shirt, pressing it against the wound to stop the flow of blood. You knew you could easily heal her but the distractions of this place seem to drive you crazy, in the midst of chaos, in the midst of the vicious people doing this to her. And you also knew the only place you could do this flawlessly was the greenhouse. ,,Hold on.. I'll take you home and fix this'' you announce, the other headmistress quickly nodding your way before taking Delia's hand and teleporting you both out of there and into your sanctuary.

As soon as you find yourself in the calm and quiet greenhouse, you move all the books and objects from class this morning off the table before putting Cordelia down. Almost on autopilot, you walk to the shelf, quickly grabbing all the ingredients and potions you need, before shakily reaching for your phone and calling the group chat with your girlfriends.

,,Babydoll, little one?'' you hear both voices from Billie and Wilhemina on the other end. And they both knew this must be important as you wouldn't call them unannounced at work. ,,I need you to come home- witch hunters at other academy- Delia hurt- bleeding'' you hyperventilate before dropping the phone and tending to her wounds.

,,You're going to be okay Delia'' you say, more to reassure yourself than the supreme. And maybe your panicking was due to Cordelia's magic being able to heal herself, as this shouldn't have knocked her out the way it did.

It takes a few minutes until you get your magic fully under control, with some spells quickly stopping the bleeding and with your healing magic, quickly making the wound disappear altogether. Despite it technically being unnecessary, you apply some potions on the wound, wanting to make sure she truly couldn't feel any pain.

When the supreme opens her eyes again, you see her worry, fear and pain replaced with her usual soft eyes, her eyes sparkling with love for you. She quickly furrows her eyebrows as she takes a look at you, inspecting your features ,,Why are you crying honey?'' she asks almost dumbfounded, as she sits up, wiping your tears but you turn away, ushering her to lay back down as the shock still ripples through your body. ,,Just rest Delia'' you tell her before leaning against one of the tables, trying to catch your breath as your life just flashed before your eyes, the thought of losing Cordelia completely rippling through you now.

Before the blonde can protest, the sound of heels and a cane urgently tapping towards the greenhouse startle you both and as soon as Billie walks inside she gasps, seeing you covered in blood and the table and books and spells spread out everywhere, all over the floor and table. ,,Oh my god, what happened?'' Billie squeals. Wilhemina remains calm, observing and quickly realising that Cordelia is fine, by the lack of pain in her features, the lack of blood on her body and clothes and assuming by the scene in front of her that you fixed it, saved her.

As Billie rushes towards the supreme, taking her cheeks into her manicured hands, Wilhemina walks towards you, her expression filled with concern and seriousness as she sees how pale you are. ,,Little one, are you okay?'' she asks, her brown eyes observing you carefully. The redhead quickly notices how out of it you truly are, your breathing out of control, your chest rising and falling quickly and how hard your fingers are holding onto the nearest table. ,,Look at me Y/N'' she instructs and when you finally do, her soft brown eyes ground you. She is quick to take your hands into hers, relaxing them and rubbing soothing circles on them.

,,It's fine darling I promise'' Cordelia reassures as Billie continues fussing over the supreme. ,,What happened?'' the medium asks, the shock still very evident in her voice. ,,Witch hunters at Hawthorne'' she mumbles, more concerned about the aftermath and you than herself right now. She is quick to rise to her feet, inspecting herself one more time and in a swift motion getting rid of all the bloody evidence on the table, her clothing and the floor.

,,Sweetie, are you alright?'' she asks gently, having seen that same expression before and only able to imagine how you must be feeling. ,,I'm fine Dee'' you reassure, quick to focus on your breathing as the last thing you want is to make them worry about you right now. Despite her being able to tell the smile is forced, she takes a step back, before her guilty eyes travel between you three. ,,I need to go back'' she announces before you turn even more pale. ,,What?'' Billie asks, her voice laced with disapproval.

,,I need to make sure they are okay, talk to the council'' the supreme begins, knowing the real work was only going to begin now. ,,Let me come with you'' you try, already knowing teleporting her away would earn you her disapproval afterwards. ,,No sweetie you need to rest'' she says softly, taking a step forward and brushing some strand of hair from your tired features.

,,So do you Cordelia'' Wilhemina urges, equally disapproving of the supreme's choice. ,,I won't be long I promise'' she reassures but Billie is quick to step forward. ,,What if there is still danger and you are running right back into it'' the medium argues, her eyes pleading with the supremes. ,,I promise you it's all taken care of'' she assures and you nod towards Billie, knowing that they wouldn't need to worry about any of those witch hunters waking any time soon after this.

,,I promise I'll be back soon'' she reassures again before glancing between you three again and disappearing as she teleports back through the dark sky and towards Hawthorne.

As soon as she leaves a shaky exhale leaves your lips, your body now shaking, the adrenaline from the earlier events having drained your body. Of course your girlfriends instantly notice, two sets of brown concerned eyes meeting yours. ,,Sweetie, are you alright?'' Billie asks softly, putting her hand on your shoulder to offer you some support. ,,I-'' you begin but quickly stop yourself as the tears already rise and the lump in your throat makes it impossible to carry on.

Billie's eyes find Wilhemina's their concern visible and knowing how much this must have been for you as you hadn't been involved in actively protecting a coven, let alone save Cordelia's life before. ,,Let's sit you down'' the medium offers, the last thing she wants is you passing out on top of everything. Despite her offer sounding nice as your knees feel weak, you stare at your hands, the blood still all over them and wanting nothing more than to shower and rid yourself from the painful reminders from today. Wilhemina instantly picks it up, being able to tell what you need before speaking softly ,,Little one, why don't we get you upstairs and shower?'' she suggests softly and you simply nod before they guide you out of the greenhouse and back into your home, the academy.

Their hands are gentle as they both hold you and guide you upstairs, Billie quick to grab some warm towels for you and some pyjamas, choosing the most comfortable pair. ,,Would you like one of us to keep you company or help in any way?'' Wilhemina asks softly, causing your heart to ache a little at her considering words. After thinking about it for a moment you shake your head, shooting them a quick reassuring smile before taking the pile of clothing and towels off Billie‘s hands and disappearing into the bathroom. Their eyes linger on you as you leave and as their brown eyes meet, the concern remains as they know this would have shaken you more than you let on.

„Do you think she‘s going to be okay?“ Billie asks nervously as soon as she hears the water running, biting her lip in anxiety. Wilhemina steps closer, her features soft as she strokes Billie‘s cheek. „She‘ll be just fine darling, both of them“ the redhead reassures, knowing how scared Billie always was of something happening to either of you. „How about we start some dinner for them?“ the redhead suggests before Billie nods. „I suppose we couldn‘t have takeout today?“ she asks, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. „My treat“ she adds in order to make her offer more convincing.

„Billie darling, it‘s always your treat“ Wilhemina jokes, causing Billie‘s cheeks to glow red a little as they both knew Billie despised cooking and Mina often struggled due to her back. „I suppose after today we can“ she allows, causing Billie to jump up and down on her heels a little in excitement. „I‘ll go and take care of that then Ms Venable“ she smirks, swaying her hips a little more than necessary on her way downstairs, causing the redhead to roll her eyes at her girlfriend‘s antics.

It‘s about half an hour later when Wilhemina makes her way upstairs, having helped Billie with setting the table, having called Cordelia in the meantime to check on her. The supreme had reassured her that all danger is averted, mostly thanks to you, that she was fine and only dealing with some things with the council before returning home. When Wilhemina had finished the phone call, still not finding you downstairs, the concern settled on her features again as she ascends the stairs, wanting to make sure that her little one is feeling alright. In the meantime you had simply sat in the shower, your hands still bloody as the thought of Cordelia on the floor bleeding had traumatised you in a way that you couldn‘t even begin to process.

„Little one?“ the redhead tries knocking a few times unsuccessfully. After a few attempts, she tries opening the door ever so slightly, wanting to make sure you are alright as you had been in there for ages. When her eyes land on you sitting in the shower, still not having done anything as your hair and body are mostly dry, her heart breaks a little, seeing the tears running down your cheeks and your broken panicked expression. „Oh honey“ she sighs, quickly stepping inside before closing the door behind her. Despite her back, she sets her cane down, kneeling beside you, before her hand reaches out to take yours into hers. With gentle and soft hands, she puts yours under water, quickly ridding you of Cordelia's leftover blood and making sure the bathtub is clean before whispering ,,Little one, can you hear me?''.

It dawns on you then, how long you had been sitting there, how long you had been staring into nothingness. ,,Yes sorry'' you compose yourself, shaking your head a little, almost as to wake yourself. ,,Mina what are you doing? your back'' you realise her posture and her features quickly soften at how considerate you always are and truly filled with nothing but kindness. ,,I'm fine little one'' she reassures before she reaches for the shower head again, asking silently for permission and you nod. She takes her time gently washing your hair, using some of her special lavender shampoo that you love so much. You opt for cleaning your body yourself, feeling both a little awkward and bad, considering you didn't do anything to deserve it, despite your girlfriend disagreeing with you if she knew your thought process. ,,Your hands are so soft Mina'' you moan slightly, feeling the little scratches on your scalp, instantly making you feel calm and more relaxed.

She chuckles a little before helping you dry off and giving you some space to get changed. When you return to the bedroom, she sits at the edge of the bed and as your eyes travel towards her, you see a hairbrush and some hair ties next to her and she softly smiles at you before patting the space next to her. ,,Can I braid your hair little one?'' she speaks softly and you melt right there, your heart aching and longing for her kindness at the same time. You can't help the tears swelling in your eyes, not sad ones but simply happy ones, feeling so grateful for having your girlfriends and for how they take care of you. And for a moment you hesitate, thinking they had already done plenty for you today and feeling the urge to repay her. ,,Mina, you really don't have to'' you try but she is quick to balance on her cane and shake her head a little. ,,I want to little one, now come sit'' she instructs and you simply obey as she begins braiding your hair for you, making sure to brush with the most care in the world, almost as if you are the most fragile thing on the planet right now.

Shortly after, the two of you descend the stairs, finding Billie in the kitchen, swaying as she hums to herself, putting the food that she had ordered on your plates, pouring some drinks for you. You can't help but smile and Wilhemina can't help but smirk. ,,Oh hi babydoll'' she greets you and she can't help but frown seeing you so comfortable and adorable looking. ,,You alright?'' she asks as she steps towards you, taking your cheeks into her warm soft hands, causing you to melt right into her touch. ,,I am now, thanks to Mina'' you admit, glancing at the redhead who simply smiles warmly at both Billie and you. ,,Is Delia home yet?'' you ask anxiously and just before Billie can say anything, the front door almost magically opens, as if she heard, as if she knew if she wasn't back soon, the three of you would be worried sick.

,,Delia'' you practically whine out, so relieved to see her back safely. She smiles warmly at you three before greeting the three of you with a kiss to your cheek. ,,Come sit, you all must be starving'' Billie instructs before the four of you begin eating. The atmosphere is calm and quiet, almost the way it usually is if it wasn't for the three of you anxiously listening to Cordelia's every word, talking about what the council had found, the next steps and how this would be resolved. ,,So no one got hurt in the end?'' Billie asks carefully, almost in surprise as she knew how dangerous these attacks could truly be. ,,That's thanks to Y/N'' Cordelia softly acknowledges, her eyes meeting yours and she is able to still see the fear in them, already having taken a mental note to talk this through with you properly tonight or tomorrow to make sure you are alright and this didn't traumatise you too much. ,,We are so proud of you babydoll'' the medium speaks, her hand reaching for yours and rubbing comforting soothing circles on the delicate skin.

After dinner, the four of you fall into your normal routine, letting the evening settle in front of the TV as you lay in Cordelia's arms. She holds you steadily, noticing the occasional shaking and that you are a little lost in your thoughts. She speaks softly, reassuring you that she is right there, that she is fine thanks to you and that she is both so grateful and proud of you for today. And she manages to calm you down with each gentle touch, with each gentle reassuring whisper and each gentle kiss she presses on your cheeks. Hours later, the four of you get into bed, Cordelia being the first one asleep after the day she has had, Wilhemina joining a close second as her back was bound to give her some trouble after all the moving. Billie stays wake, wanting to make sure the three of you are alright before you fall asleep.

Only after about an hour, a nightmare ripples through you, the terror of losing Cordelia, of what could and would have happened if you didn't heal her, if you didn't insist on going with her. It causes you to jolt in Billie's arms, tears streaming down your cheeks as panic rises in your chest. ,,Hey babydoll, I'm here'' she coos, still having been awake and doing some work on her phone as her workday was interrupted earlier. ,,Billie'' you cry out, clutching to her shirt as you glance around the room frantically, seeing both Wilhemina and Cordelia asleep safe and sound and calming a little. ,,You're okay baby, just a nightmare'' she reassures as her nails gently scratch your head, hoping this could calm you. She keeps holding you for a while, noticing how you calm down with each passing minute, but sleep remaining a stranger. Her brown eyes glance at yours before you meet them, almost as if you begged for something silently.

,,What can I do my sweet girl?'' she tries and you look away, too shy to ask for what you need. ,,Tell me'' she encourages before you whisper ,,Will you sing for me?''. It takes a moment for the words to register properly and she can't help but chuckle until she realises you are being serious. And her heart melts then, assuming this is what both Wilhemina and Cordelia would do for you whenever she was away filming or already long asleep and your usual nightmares plagued you. ,,Of course babydoll'' she encourages and begins humming gently, the same way she had in the kitchen hours before and your eyes quickly fall shut, feeling her arms wrapped around you, her hands gently massaging your skin and her voice making you feel calm immediately and guiding you back to sleep, knowing the three of them are safe and sound right there with you.

[sgiandubh]

You know nothing, Jon Snow

It's been a short night and a hot summer day in here. But I just received the last of the goods in my secondary inbox and am still unpacking, pondering and putting the data into context.

Work with me:

To begin somewhere, this is the exact content of the (in)famous Shamrock Anon submission to this blog, as delivered almost 23 hours ago:

Put yourselves in my shoes and read with me: "the Irish based drinks company (not the one accessible to fans) is solely owned by him and DF".

An Irish company? "Not accessible to fans?" Owned only by these two people and not her, on her turf? Now that could have been a nuke, because hello, where is the logic in all this, and who does that, and yes, why?

By the time I wrote my brief Shamrock Anon post, in the hope of luring this person to share more, the same message had already been delivered to at least two other shipper blogs. That would make three of us: the controversial newbie (I am not blind, but I am not cantankerous either), the respected veteran sleuth and Super Dispatch, with what I believe to be the intent of pushing an agenda of sorts. I chose not to publish Anon, because: 1) I needed more and yes, I needed to check and 2) I felt there was something bizarre with all this.

@luhafraser published it and I am truly relieved they did. I posted an update that apparently got even more people confused, and carried on with it. It did not take off the pressure (Anons begging, pleading and taunting went straight to the bin), but it gave me time to start looking.

It took me exactly two minutes and a half to find the Irish company's name and registration number, as visible and published on the FMN gin webpage (https://www.forgetmenot.com/ and always, always read the small print).

So long for "not accessible to fans", BS Anon:

Next stop, the Irish Company Registration Office's website (https://core.cro.ie/), where things went impeccably smooth. FMN Drinks is an Irish company, registered as "Limited", which would translate as Public Limited Company (plc) in the UK:

Getting more data required a paid search and I stopped to ponder. Really did. Price was a trifle, but that was not really my problem. So I sat on it during the night: it is something I always do when I find myself uneasy or unsure about something.

By noon today, local time, I mumbled "oh, what the hell", crossed myself and pushed send:

It took 15 minutes to get five of the documents and two more hours and 45 minutes to get the Letter of Status, certified by a living, breathing Irish public servant in that inbox:

So (in)famous Shamrock Anon, here is my answer to you:

If you think a company specialized in the distilling and rectifying of spirits, with 100 (one hundred) issued shares, worth 1 euro each and with a zero euro declared account balance since last December is proof of capitalist world domination, you are an idiot, Anon. You lured me down that rabbit hole with the preposterous idea that C was not a part of this PO box company - which she is, as one of its four appointed Directors - to try and prove shippers are stupid. Which we aren't.

At face value, this is nothing to write home about. But I said yesterday the devil is in the details and was not disappointed, because you clearly are sloppy (again?) Anon and boy, you do have an untrained eye. It's almost like me when prompted to read somebody's blood test results, you know?

I am now faced with a dilemma: I either buy a cork board, thread and pins and start a trip to Cuckooland, trying to navigate my way across trademarks and trails of companies, and such other niceties that are boring as death. Or, I look at this completely uncalled for embarrassment of riches and let the dots connect themselves, in time.

I always steered my course according to this French proverb: dans le doute, s'abstenir. When in doubt, do nothing. Making sense of a document posted on a real estate company website is one thing. Publishing such documents, which are readily available for the private use of anyone with a credit card, and prematurely discussing them is a personal red line I am not willing to cross.

It would be pushing an agenda and, especially right now (*promo*), writing the script. Circus might be in town, but I am not one of the clowns.

Oh, and Anon: a company is an evolving entity people get into, then get out of and even maybe get back to, at some point in time. A business project is by no means any sort of evidence of relationship/marital status.

[every-raindrop77]

Tag Game

Tagged by @poppypopp, thank you!

1) How many works do you have on AO3? 63!

2) What’s your total AO3 word count? 334,970

3) What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Horizon Zero Dawn, I've dabbled in DND:HAT, Stardew Valley & The Magnus Archives and will likely indulge in BG3 when I finish my playthrough

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1 - Beckoning Death, Brushing Lips

2 - Illicit Lute-y

3 - Year One

4 - A knife in the sand, a punch in the heart

5 - Beads & Paint

5) Do you respond to comments? I try to, but a lot of the time I either reply in my head or cn't think of anything to say :'(

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Fingerprints On the Soul, it was written for an angst night in Nilysium and still hurts my feelings to this day. Prompt fulfilled!

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Every one of my Aloy/Hekarro Omegaverse series has a happy ending (hurhurhur) but the happiest is probably Finding Fortune, Racing with Fate because it was explicitly written to be nice to the blorbos.

8) Do you get hate on fics? Not really? There's a couple of comments that were borderline, but I just removed them.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind? In most, and a mixture of everything tbh - I just want people to have good time - though I'm not above making them wait for it!

10) Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Lots of thoughts, and I enjoy reading them - but I've only ever written a Horizon/Pacific Rim oneshot.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope!

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? Nobody told me if they did!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? I've co-written a one-shot with a great author who needed a hand with the smut portion of their work. It was really great to try and merge our styles!

14) What’s your all time favorite ship? I don't know that I could ever choose - Bones/booth were my OGs and I still love them. Current faves would be Nil/Fashav, Aloy/Hekarro and Astarion/Halsin in BG3

15) What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Beads and Paint, my first every Kotaloy fic but I never really thought about where it was going when I started.

16) What are your writing strengths? I feel like I do well with description, and I'm very confident in my smut!

17) What are your writing weaknesses? For many years I fully avoided any dialogue ever, I've grown a huge amount in the last 2-3 years though so probably just my struggle to concentrate and put words to paper.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I'm only comfortable embarassing myself in one language at a time :D

19) First fandom you wrote for? Maximum Ride, in a notebook I kept hidden in my bedside drawer. Max and Fang were pre-teen crack for my little shipping heart.

20) Favorite fic you’ve written? Probably Aporkalyptic or my two knife marriage fics in Horizonverse, nobody else rates them as highly, but I'll always be the first to laugh at my own jokes :')

And that's me done. I'm tagging @eclectus & @wandereringray No pressure though!

[christmic]

Starts with: Gregorian Chants

When the prompts trickle in too slow for the rain to stop

Ends with:

Nurture a Covenant with God

When the prompts trickle in too slow for the rain to stop. The rain has been on again, off again. So I’m only allowing myself evenings for this whole exercise but did a morning one and now that night came need to go again real quick before more sight reading. Feels like I’m in trade school, the pressure is high to learn a bunch of piano books so that the students never catch up to me. And some of them could soon. Sight reading is so different from every other piano skill, it’s like I’ve spent weeks and am still not confident and a beginner. I can do it in my head but my fingers don’t cooperate. And then my fingers can do it easily but my eyes see blurred smudges on lines. Shoulda coulda woulda learned earlier. Shoulda could woulda never stared at the Sun. So today got a call from boss, thinking I was in trouble. No, you just have to learn We Are the Champions on guitar for band tonight. What a life! What a job! I love it.

So PDP and I are headed to an island for three days to camp. So I’m posting here for the lurkers as the only way to know I went missing. It’s cool the boat comes about every three days weather permitting so hopefully we get stuck out there for 40 days and 40 nights! My night vision binoculars record video and make everything look like a UFO. I have walkie talkies, a bible, a hammock, a recorder, and a guitar. I’m not sure if PDP will be able to make it sober, the vibe is he’s in the same boat but without the knock and is struggling with substances. His current life trajectory is his wife will leave him as soon as the kids are old enough and he’ll trade happiness for binging with the vets at Legion playing darts with Michelle. But destiny is not written in stone, the man can rise above and change his life plan. He shouts about how he’s all about truth but the hair trigger anger in his heart prevents the truth to be uttered by those closest to him. Yes there are extremely nefarious forces winning battle after battle in the world. Yes the dominant population is completely oblivious and on a local level participating in turning the world into a more evil place. But my favorite Bill Cooper quote again, and why he’s the top cheese in my burrito is “If you want to know what’s wrong with your country all you have to do is take one long hard look in the mirror”.

I like to do little checkins with The Lord throughout the day for figuring out what to do next. And the Lord is saying open the fields, what a friendship is could be more. You know my door is always open. You stubborn cat. Jesus. At this rate though the thought of a 10 year younger woman that puts the Lord first seems to be a trend out here. Though that doesn’t qualify as a carrot on the stick for the harder parts of my routine. Like this rabid 6 year old I have to teach for a whole hour but he’s Keith Moon + Jon Bonham + Jim Morrison on a bender trapped in a 6 year old’s body. Today I had to ask him who the teacher was because he was trying to tell me what to play. We have to jump to drums to piano to guitar to producing beats depending on the moment. Aha. It’s fun though it’s just hard to teach a 6 year old anything and the parents are the coolest they just like him getting exposed to stuff and are putting zero pressure on him.

Let’s not ban talking about ChatGPT but word in the sauna from my fav lifeguard Dioni is that the optimal swim is about 800-1000 yards, which is my SWEET spot thank God. Cause I’ve only been doing 500 like a bitch. but I was thinking I’m supposed to get up to 4 or 5k a day like when I was on the swim team. Just got to get 300 more in then focus on form and getting faster. Soul Fusion’s full of the most dedicated or frustrated moms who could kick my ass and over my head at the same time. Full volume club tunes and is hard AF. My sister’s has become the cool house where all the cool mom’s go. I tell them often I can’t wait to be a stay at home mom like them. You’ll think you’re having a heart attack at times. In Soul Fusion, that is. Fun stuff! S is preggers with her second and has blueberry bushes that haven’t needed water from the rain and are huge already. I’m going to steal her method once my greenhouse is built. I remember in the bible about if a tree yields no fruit, then cut it down. When was the last time she yielded fruit? Let me check in with the Lord. ‘Tone it down christMic’ okay. Recently when I nutted in her and refused to get plan b because she’s vaxxed and therefore infertile. Demon’s will do anything to feel right, and I’m genuinely sorry. What's recent is sometimes a long, long time ago.

Also I invented a new genre of music, instead of Bluegrass its called Greengrass and it sounds really awesome. It’s like Bluegrass instruments but all the songs are happy and uplifting, but not in an ignorant youthful way. Like Chad’s old lyrics from high school Bonjo and I would be in tears laughing singing them. They were so naive and innocent; stuff like ‘you and me we’re gonna make three and be happy’… You’d love to hear Greengrass sometime. I would too.

I shouldn’t talk about the bible without giving actual scripture because I have yet to read the entire thing.

Also why is Hotel California so popular? Because you can check in anytime you like, but you can never leave. Why is Stairway to heaven so popular? Because there’s a lady whose sure, all that glitters is gold. Please make these prompts one day.

I met Lightening Joe’s wife today and after getting picks and a tuner she took me upstairs to show me the studios and a dope graffiti bathroom her husband made. A living legend. But there was a social pho pa because I asked if I could take a picture of the 10 rock commandments painted on the wall and she said sure, her dad was really religious and wanted to take a picture of them too. I told her I’m really religious too and well was led back out on the pavement before I could say Love Everyone. I wish I told her I knew where she’s coming from about her silent obscure scars from religious family/people. I wish I told her I don’t like the word in the first place. But anyways that’s what happens, it’s funny how religious people have a worse rap than hobos in many nice parts of the country. And I understand how they feel. Now I’m scheduled to play keys for 1 rehearsal before the Easter service - probably on that $4k Nord I’d never be able to afford. That’s like 4 Siennas. It’s one of those churches where everything is top of the line, like the drum set has it’s own plastic room and everyone has fenders and ear peaces for levels and stuff. Fancy fancy, and I’m so blessed to be a part of it. The music is easy and you cannot deny how the holy spirit fills the room when we sing. The only number I feel a little hesitant about - and sad it’s one of their flagship songs and it goes something like “What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus” and the way it’s repeated and sounds it sounds like the whole group is saying they enjoy drinking Jesus’s blood in order to feel whole in like a kinda a dark and satanic way. But I’m sure there’s no one at church I can tell this too. Maybe the tongues dino’d understand, she’s seen some shit. Also the organizer wants me to download a scheduler app and I don’t have the heart to tell the fifth fellow Christian this month that I don’t use iOS or Android. It’s lonely at the top. JK Jesus is here in my heart and I’m all bottom of the creek with the salamanders anyways.

But I’m on island time soon in order to really focus on Nurturing a Covenant with God.

[duckprintspress]

How can I return to writing after a long hiatus?

This post is based on a conversation we had in the Duck Prints Press LLC Discord, and all contributors comments have been used/paraphrased/integrated into this post with permission. The people who contributed ideas to this post are: @nottesilhouette, @ramblingandpie, @arialerendeair, @tryslora, @deansmultitudes, @theleakypen, Owlish Intergalactic, myself (I’m @unforth), and one who preferred to remain anonymous.

Few things are harder than coming back to writing after a long period of not writing. Being creative takes a lot of energy, and starting after not doing so for a period of time takes even more energy. The writers on our Discord had a really productive discussion, where we talked about strategies we’ve each personally used to help us get our writing mojo back. None of these methods work for everyone, but if you haven’t written in a while, maybe one of these will work for you!

How to Revive that Creative Writing Spark:

doing sprints with a friend - knowing you’re all in it together can really help!

talking with writing buddies about what you’re each working on - the shared enthusiasm can be really helpful,

journaling, about daily life, or about dreams you’ve had - turning the dream into something coherent can be a great strategy (or, don’t bother, and just write it however crazily it took place!)

pick a random story you wrote in the past and read a chapter, paragraph, or 500 word segment - and look at it as a reader, say things you liked about it, praise it, emphasize the good things about your own writing.

transcribe a song with lyrics you find inspiring, or crack open a favorite book and transcribe a few paragraphs. You can even do it with something you’ve written yourself!

set a low-pressure, low-word count deadline - make it public, if you’re the kind of person that helps, or keep it to yourself.

sign up for a zero-consequence challenge, such as a bingo, or the Duck Prints Press #drabbledaysaturday prompts on Twitter - something where no one will mind if you don’t succeed, but you might find some inspiration.

create a small goal, either daily, weekly, or monthly - it can be a time frame (I’ll write for 5 minutes a day!) or a word count (I’ll write 1,000 words a month!) or even something tiny (I’ll write one sentence a day!) or a public sharing goal (post a ficlet a day!) and then do your best to stick to it, and reward yourself when you succeed.

open your ask box or otherwise solicit short prompts - for example, do a “three sentence” meme (”send me a pairing and a trope and I’ll write a three sentence fill”) or a story title meme (”send me a story title and I’ll write a little about the story I’d create with that title”) or an emoji prompt (”send me three emojis and I’ll write a ficlet”) or make your own fun one that will bring you joy (one of our writers created a “name two characters and I’ll make them kiss in six sentences or less” meme that helped them a lot)

participate in a prompt month, something with no consequences for failure but with prompts that can inspire daily ficlet.

write without editing, and just throw what you create out into the world - anything to get the words flowing.

challenge yourself to write a drabble day, no more and no less.

try changing how or when you write - get a nice journal and write by hand, or if that’s your normal, try writing in a word document instead.

write at different times of day, and see if it’s easier for you over breakfast, or after lights out, or during your lunch break, or by stealing a few minutes while you’re “on the clock” at work.

make an attempt at different formats of writing - if you usually write prose, try a poem; if you usually write really long things, try a drabble.

look out your window, or find a place you like, and just describe what you see.

do some free association exercises - for example, use a random word generator (I use this one sometimes) and then write literally whatever word comes into your head next - keep going until you fill the page, or until it starts to turn into a story, or just until you don’t feel like it any longer.

pick a random sentence (the person who suggested this often uses “Just write anything”) to be the start of a story, and “pants” your way through whatever comes next, without worrying about grammar, continuity, logic, or much of anything.

plan ahead - schedule your writing time and don’t let yourself put it off (rewards for success are always good!) and/or visualize exactly what you want to write ahead so you’re ready when you sit down.

if you get hit by inspiration, don’t put it off - even if all you do is scrawl a sentence in your phone or on scratch paper between other tasks, get it out of your head. Even a single sentence is a creation!

get out of the spaces where your usual things are - go to a park, or on a hike, or in your backyard, or even a different room in your own home, and bring a journal or phone or laptop, and see what strikes you.

pick That Thing You Haven’t Been Letting Yourself Write and ignore all the things you Think You Should Be Writing and just...write what brings you joy

fanfiction can be very helpful, especially in canon using canon-compliant ships/characterizations - there’s no need to do the heavy lifting. Even if you just write the characters going to a grocery store, or talking about what movie they want to watch, or arguing over take out - something short and sweet that’s just for fun, with no expectations for yourself or anyone else.

alternatively, if you’re the type who writes better for others and you’re feeling down - knock out anything, even something short, and post it, and take joy even in a single like or kudos. Knowing even one person out there loved what you wrote can really help.

Any or all of these may help you, but there’s one final one that I, at least, think is the most important of all - and that’s helped me most.

FORGIVE YOURSELF. You have work in progress up. It’s okay to leave them. You told someone you’d write something for them. It’s okay not to. You have a deadline looming. It’s okay to ask for more time, or to withdraw, or - in the end - it’s even okay to ghost. You think what you’ve made is bad. It’s okay if it’s bad. You’ll never be able to create when you’re raking yourself over the coals. Everyone in fandom has “been there” - has missed deadlines, has left challenges, has abandoned works in progress, have reneged on a promise to a friend to write something. Until you forgive yourself, you’ll never be able to create anything, and isn’t even a single sentence that isn’t on that Big Important Thing better than no sentences on anything?

Forgive yourself, and find that spark, inspiration, muse, whatever you want to call it - and write things that bring you joy.

We believe in you!

YOU CAN DO IT!

[anonymousdandelion]

Three Fics Tag Game

@totallysilvergirl very kindly tagged me for this game: name your most popular fic and two “hidden gems” that haven’t circulated as much. Thank you for thinking of me!

Let’s see...

Most Popular Fic: A Summoning (rated T, 12652 words)

Summary:

Linette definitely didn't want to summon a demon, and Crowley definitely didn't want to be summoned. Nevertheless, that's what happened. Blame Linette's uncle, who is Not A Good Person.

Other significant players include a potted fern, a bucket of holy water, and a concerned Aziraphale.

Judging from my AO3 stats page, this fic is leading in every statistic area — kudos, hits, comments, bookmarks, you name it. I am constantly a bit tickled by that fact, since I vividly recall waging an internal battle about whether or not to post it. 😂 I’m very glad I did!

As for “hidden gems”... hmm, with getting on over 270 fics posted and counting, it’s hard to narrow it down! Here are a couple I’m still rather proud of.

Hidden Gem 1: Song of the Sea (the white foam is flying)    (rated G, 1529 words)

Excerpt:

“Aziraphale?” The sound of his name calls Aziraphale back to himself: here, now, on the sand, wind tugging at his hair and blowing in his face, the voice of a demon close at hand. Grounding him, centering him, settling him…

…No, wait, that is to say, startling him. The voice of a demon?

Aziraphale whirls, tearing his gaze from the horizon in the process. And yes, there he is, a mere few yards away: Crawly, one hand shading his eyes against the sparkle of sunlight on water, the other held aloft as if in greeting.

Written because sometimes I just need to get in my feels enough to wax overly poetic about the wonders of nature. Along with a side of Aziraphale-and-Crowley fluff, because what do you take me for, of course there had to be a side of Aziraphale-and-Crowley fluff.

Hidden Gem 2: The Bookshop (rated G, 300 words)

Excerpt:

There’s a shop on a street in a city With shelves that are stacked full of books It is dusty and damp — none too pretty It greets you with glowering looks

The bookshop loves dearly its book hoard Protects it for all the shop’s worth A warden with no flaming sword Just an angel’s abode here on earth

This is a poem I wrote for a Guess the Author prompt that instructed me to treat myself with something I enjoyed... and I’m honestly very proud of how this one turned out in terms of rhyme scheme, word choice, imagery, etc. Of course, it also highlights the Aziraphale’s Bookshop is Sentient trope, which is always one of my favorites.

Bonus Mention: My Skull & Pyro fics

I almost put one of these down for my “hidden gems,” since they’re definitely the least known of all my works and all of them have under ten kudos... but the truth is that it’s not the fics that are hidden gems so much as the fandom itself. Still, I won’t miss an opportunity to implore everyone within earshot to check out the amazing fantasy/comedy/adventure webcomic (complete with a heartwarming pair of ace husbands with elemental powers who are the protagonists!) that is Skull & Pyro.

In that fandom, I’m particularly pleased with Counting [Fire-Breathing, Taco-Eating] Sheep and Song of Fire. 

Next up, zero pressure to participate (and apologies if you’ve already been tagged by someone else!), but if you are interested in taking a shot at sharing some of your own wonderful fics: @geometricfractal @ineffable-doll @ineffable-kelpie @ineffablefool @ineffableomenshusbands @fanishjuli @two-hands-toward-the-sun @flameraven @aethelflaedladyofmercia @goodduckingomens @ri-writing​ @edosianorchids901

...and anyone else reading this who wants to join in, please do so and tag me so I can see your responses! I’d love to find out more about your fics!

[andilovetowrite]

Webs and Awkwardness P.P

Peter Parker x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Walking into your best friend’s room to find out he is Spiderman is terrible as it is, but what comes after is even worse, when Peter rips your t-shirt in the process…

Based on this prompt

Warnings: A couple of bad words (Mostly from May) and a little suggestiveness. Supportive Aunt May, and flustered Peter ;)

Word Count: 1.9k words

Posted May 2, 2021

Here is my Masterlist, in case you wanted to check it out :)

“Hey Aunt May!” you greeted, walking into the apartment. She smiled, hugging you.

“Good evening Y/N!” She gestured over to the pile of books in your arms. “Studying for a test?”

Nodding tiredly, you answered. “Physics...and Peter is probably the only one in the class who is passing. So I desperately need his help.”

Aunt May laughed, pointing to his room. “Thank god he is still doing his work, with being cooped up in his room all the time. Not to mention being so distant after getting that internship from that Stark guy.” She shook her head, primarily to herself. “I don’t like him too much.”

You smiled, thanking her before making your way to Peter’s room, knocking softly. There was no response. You did it again but figured Peter might be too engrossed in making something. So you went in.

And you will never forget the shock that went through your body. In the middle of the room, standing half-naked with only his boxers, was your best friend, Peter Parker. But that wasn’t what shocked you. What made you gasp was the clothing that pooled at his feet. Red and blue. Black lines crisscrossed over it. But even then, you wouldn’t overthink about red and blue clothes. The mask in his palm,, though said everything.

“It’s not-uh not what it looks like!” Peter shouted, haphazardly throwing the mask to the side. It didn’t help his case because the second he threw it, a light red light illuminated the ceiling, showing the iconic logo we all knew. “I’m uh, not- I promise it is not- this it just a- Oh god”,, Peter rambles on, kicking the suit back so harshly that it hits the wall hard, making a small dent before it crumples to the floor.

You could feel your eyes widen, looking at Peter in amazement and then the mask. Almost comically, you come closer, observing his face and then shamelessly looking up and down his body, eyes zeroing on his abs.

“You’re Spiderman. Peter Parker is Spiderman. My best friend is Spiderman.” You say slowly, trying to get it into your head. Peter nodded, trying to judge what you were going to say or do.

“I-”

“It all makes sense now!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the bed, knowing if you kept standing, you were going to pass out or something.

“What?” Peter asked eyebrows scrunched up. Out of all the possible things you could’ve said, that was the least expected one. The most expected one was a hit to the face,, and maybe then you would run out of the apartment.

“It’s- uh- now I understand. How you magically got rid of your glasses,”

“I got contacts”, Peter interjected, biting his lip.

“-no,, you didn’t. I asked May where you got your contacts from,, and she told me you didn’t have any.” Peter looked down, knowing that story went for a toss.

“Then how you also got abs overnight, as well as your overall muscles”, you said, gesturing to his body. Peter became bright red but made no move to put anything on.

“After that, you would never answer my calls in the night. For a bit, I thought you were ignoring me or at some girl’s house-”

“I wasn’t!” Peter shouted, then looked back at the door to see if his aunt heard him.

You nodded, thinking of other things. “Plus, you never speak about the internship, even though it was what you did most of the time.”

Peter hung his head down, now feeling bad about not telling you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just couldn’t let people know who I am and then if they saw Spiderman coming into your house-the-they might start targeting you-an-and you might get hurt. I-I couldn’t live with myself if that happened to you be-because of me.”

You nodded, the seriousness of the situation hitting you suddenly. But in real life, it hit Peter. Well, you hit Peter.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? BAD GUYS TARGETTING ME IS BAD AS IT IS, BUT THEM TRYING TO KILL YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE ASKED ME FOR HELP! I SWEAR TO GOD PETER PARKER, YOU WOULD WISH THAT THE BAD GUYS HURT YOU AFTER WHAT I DO TO YOU!” you walked closer threateningly. Peter’s eyes widened. No matter who he went against, even if it was Captain America, no one would be more frightening than you when you were mad.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, Peter mumbled, moving back further. He didn’t even realize that he was halfway up the wall at this point, his face touching the ceiling.

“Get down here Parker!”

“Okay”, Peter squeaked, jumping down with impressive skills. “I’m s-” He went to apologize again but was cut off by you.

“Come here”, you said softly, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, feeling his warm skin touch yours.

“Oh, this is nice”, he mumbled, hugging you back.

“You know how I would feel if someone came and told me my best friend died because of saving a city? Do you know how much I would stress out each night about you being Spiderman and fighting people twice or thrice your age?”

“Yeah”, Peter whispered against your skin, lips tickling your neck. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

You sighed softly. “But do you know how much it would hurt to know that you got hurt when I couldn’t help you? Just because I didn’t know that you were Spiderman?”

Peter stayed quiet, but his grip on you tensed up, clutching you tightened.

You pulled back, looking him in his chocolate eyes. “Please don’t keep things to yourself. Not with pressure like this. I know the Hulk or Iron Man might be there to help you, but tell me you’re alright. Just every now and then?” By this time, you could feel your throat closing, as you can feel tears prickling the sides of your eyes. Peter nodded, pulling you back in his embrace.

“I will. Plus, who will you come to to get Physics answers if I die?”

“Shut up!”, you laughed, leaving the hug but keeping your arm around his shoulder.

“So Mr Spiderman, how do you stick to buildings? And shoot webs? Do you make webs? Oh my god, are you part spider? Do you grow legs when you are outside fighting crime?”

Peter looked confused, listening to you babble on and on, but then chuckled. “With my suit that Mr Stark made. I make my webs. No I’m not part spider and of course not!”

“Wait, can I see the webs?”, you asked, curiosity blooming in your chest.

Peter shrugged. “Sure” Going over to his desk drawer, he opened it, pulling out a couple fancy technology gadgets. “Here, just press on this button.”

Gingerly taking it from him, you touched the button, not expecting such a light, featherlike touch to make it go on. Suddenly, a white stringy web hit Peter’s hand, jerking him towards you.

“Woah!”, he exclaimed as he banged into you.

“I’m sorry!”

“No probl-” he began, as he pushed himself off you, but one part stuck. His right hand was situated right on your chest, stuck with his web.

“Peter! Get your hand off!”

His mouth opened and closed, looking like a fish. “Uh-I’m sorry, you just- I grabbed onto the first thing, I mean, I didn’t try and grab your boob, oh god- I just-here let me-damn it, two hours.”

“What are you talking about? What’s two hours?” You asked, trying to concentrate on anything but Peter’s calloused hand on your thin shirt.

“Uh, I don’t know how to tell you this but uh-”, Peter looked incredulously at, his hand, quickly glancing at the ceiling. “The web takes two hours to dissolve. And I just ran out of web dissolver…The only one left is on the roof”

“Seriusly? Pete! You can’t...- your hand is on my boob!”

“I’m sorry, I promise, I can’t feel anything. Well, no, I can feel something, but that’s not what I meant! Um-”

You sighed, looking up to see Peter’s face close to your’s. “You’re Spiderman! Just pull your hand off or something?”

“Uh-ye-yeah sure”, he said hesitantly. Giving a couple small tugs, nothing came off, but then he got annoyed, and yanked his hand back.

Not the best decision.

Instead of his hand coming off the shirt, the shirt came with him, tearing off your body. Gasping, you threw your hand to your chest, covering yourself up. “Peter!”

“Oh god, oh my god!” Peter blushed hard, the pink going all the way across his body as he looked at the cut up cloth in his palm. As you tried to find something to cover yourself up with, Peter’s ears twitched.

“Shit!”, he whispered, running over to me. “May is coming here!”

“How the heck can you hear that?”

“Super-hearing…”

“Of course”

“Y/N! May can’t know I’m spiderman! She won’t allow me to do these things otherwise…”

You stuttered, looking around the room. “Quick! Hide the suit.”

Running over to his mask, you grabbed it, throwing it under the bed, while he jumped up and hid his suit in the small slot on the roof. Hearing her footsteps now, you ran over to Peter’s hoodie, but it was too late.

May opened the door. “Hey guys, you want some Indian for dinne- What are you doing!?”

You couldn’t blame her. It looked bad. Peter without any clothes but his boxers on, and your shirt torn open, revealing your red, lacy bra underneath.

“We-we aren’t doing- any-anything May!”, you half yelled, embarrassment flooding your body.

“Yeah, no, we are not- she doesn’t-uh”, Peter said, looking at my torn shirt as he quickly pushed me behind him, not wanting to show his aunt what I wa wearing.

“Um, okay. Kids, I don’t know what’s happening, but just, uh, use protection and don’t be too loud-”

“MAY!” Peter said, hands covering his face. “We aren’t doing anything!”

“Uh huh. Sure….”, she said. “With how much you talk about how beautiful Y/N is, I can’t believe it took this long for you to tell her. But maybe don’t sleep on the first date? I mean, I know you are 19, and it’s your decision.. ”

“NO MAY!” Peter said, glancing back at me, cheeks flooded with pink.

“Also, perhaps lend Y/N your shirt or something. Considering you ruined hers? And wear some clothes when you get out.”

With that, she left the room, winking at me and mouthing to Peter, “It’s under the bathroom sink…”

Peter groaned, falling on his bead, head still in his arms. “I’m so sorry for May! I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to- your shirt-”

You laughed, pulling Peter’s midtown hoodie over your ripped shirt. “It’s honestly fine Pete. Let’s go eat some food. And maybe after that, you can ask me out on that date you’ve been meaning to do?”

Smirking slightly, you walked out of the room, kissing Peter on the cheek and taking pride in leaving him behind in his room, stuttering a nervous “Yes”.

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

I hope this is good, and I did the story justice anon! Thanks so much for requesting this, and I would love to have a couple more to write since you all have such good ideas :) Until next time!

[indiaalphawhiskey]

I don't know if you've been asked about this before, but may I ask how can one just "focus" on their WIP to finish it. I've been making my Our Flag Means Death AU for a month now but I can't help myself to make other fics as well, the ideas are just drowning my brain tbh 😔. Any tips or what to do ?

Hi darling! ❤️

Oh, wow. That’s quite the dilemma.

Okay, so first off, I have to say I know exactly how you feel — I have prompts and AUs swirling around in my head all. the. time. It’s crazy, and sometimes, it makes me sad when I realize there’s no way I could possibly write all of them in this lifetime, in a way that does each story justice.

I think that’s just how creative minds work — it’s so easy and so tempting to find a new AU in the everyday that it’s just hard to stop. I don’t have a surefire fix for the problem, but I can suggest some things.

1) When you’re writing longer fics, it’s easy to get distracted by AUs because thinking up an idea is usually the most fun part of writing. It happens to me when I hit a wall or an issue in what I’m actually writing, because it’s just more fun to let your mind drift to a story that doesn’t need you to work. But then, you have to remind yourself that each AU is going to have its problems, and while a new story may seem easy at first, there’s always going to be a moment where the writing is a struggle.

2) Not all prompts have “meat” to them. Some of them are just cute ideas that don’t necessarily have a larger story, and you tend to realize that when you sit with the idea for awhile. You’ll find that not every idea can be expanded into a full fic, and some AUs really are just going to be drabbles or meme ideas.

Which leads me to…

3) Write drabbles and ficlets and time stamps. Sometimes, your brain needs a break from the plot of it all. Sometimes, you just need to write a fun little scene where you don’t have to think about too much exposition or backstory. Sometimes, you just wanna write smut with zero build up. 🤷🏻‍♀️ let yourself do that. Bang out a 500 word scene with no pressure and no context in one of the ‘verses you’re interested in, and post it on tumblr or as a snippet series on AO3. Usually, this change of pace will help you both attend to your craving to test drive that new AU, and clear your mind so you can refocus on your bigger fic with refreshed energy.

4) It’s okay to write slowly and table fics for awhile. Something I learned after I started writing was that there are stories that will demand to be written, no matter how many times you try to put them down or how many other smaller things you write in between. It took me three years to complete OLNF. I didn’t look at that document for 7 months, and I still ended up finishing it because the story demanded to be written, however slowly. Sometimes, you can’t put a timeline on creativity, and as hard as it is to accept that, you have to trust your creative timing and your creative process, no matter how frustrating.

Hope this helps! Good luck! 🍀

[ifimayhaveaword]

@0celestialbitch0 and @softanon tagged me in a get-to-know-you meme on my main, but I hope y’all don’t mind that I’m putting it over here instead! tysm bébés!

Rules: tag a few people you want to know better; make a new post, don’t reblog!

Favorite color: long-term it’s always been green, but I’m having a yellow & dusty pink moment 💛

Currently reading: uhhhh not much! I got struck with the desire to re-read Sabriel by Garth Nix, and then actually read the rest of the series. Gotta see if it’s available thru Libby, as a text or audiobook! (Also gotta catch up on Anything that Shines by @thosewickedlovelies 👀 and read the next part of hey batter batter! by @ohheyitsokay 😍)

Last song: Take me Home Country Roads!!! It was the last song we sang in rehearsal last night and it’s the last thing I listened to 😅

Last series: …..I think tbobf?? If you count YouTube series then I caught up on Tasting History with Max Miller the other day!!

Last movie: Encanto! Watched it with my lil nieces 🥰

Sweet, spicy, or savory: I have a pretty low spice tolerance, but I do enjoy what I can handle! Sweet>savory>spicy usually, but like. I love food don’t make me pick.

Coffee or tea: usually coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon & evening, but it all depends on my mood☕️

Three ships: (oh god how much of an embarrassment do I want to out myself as??) Hmm. Me x all my faves 🥰🥰🥰

First ever ship: Zelda/Link from LoZ! I used to watch my brother play Ocarina of Time ALL THE time when I was a kid— watching him play video games was like watching TV for me- legend of Zelda imprinted on me as a wee lass. I shipped them before I knew what shipping WAS.

Currently working on: batting a ball of yarn in my brain thinking about some prompts that Dia and Elle sent me ages ago (I didn’t forget!!) but not actually writing or plotting or recording anything rn :(

Favorite piece of clothing: I don’t think I have a favorite! But I have a pair of dark wash, high waisted, flare-leg jeans that I l o v e

Comfort food: uhhhh cheese n toast, moms turkey soup 🥺

Favorite time of year: spring & autumn 🌱🍁

Favorite fanfiction: Hmm. again, I can’t pick a favorite— I’ve been reading fic for too long now— but one that I always think about and go back to listen to is an AU supernatural fic! An exercise in “worthless” (I don’t recall the author rn) was one I read in college, and then later found the podfic of, and I just. Yeah. I love how it integrates some stuff from canon, how the characterizations are written, and the way the podficcer voices them…. -swooning sigh-

But in another way, if we’re talking tropes? Idiots to lovers, fake dating, historical/fantasy AUs!! (and a/b/o is a guilty pleasure don’t look at me)

Idk who hasn’t been tagged yet, so I’m sorry if you’ve done it/been tagged and don’t wanna do it! Zero pressure!! @corvueros @oloreaa @pettyprocrastination @moonlight-prose @miraclesabound @cinewhore @iamskyereads @scribbledghost 💛💛💛💛

[snarkwrites]

ssw | pietro maximoff; you make my heart beat faster. [ suggestive ]

Notes:

Okay, so.. This is kind of a follow up to the one shot I wrote a few months ago, happy birthday. So this picks up the next day. Idk where this idea came from or if it even makes sense when read immediately after that one, but ah well. My brain kept nagging at me to write the thing so I wrote the thing.

[ happy birthday ] for those who haven't read it already.

The translation: ty chuvstvuyesh', chto delayesh' so mnoy, kotenok = "do you feel what you're doing to me, kitten?" loosely via Google translate.

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.

the daydream of him inside you // seeing the bulge in his pants // you make my heart beat faster. - those were all the prompts / inspiration used to write this.

Fandom / Character:

MCU / Pietro Maximoff x Barton!OFC, Nicola.

Other Writing Nicola / Pietro can be found in:

[ happy birthday ] + several other oooold posts way back on the blog I think. I wanna write a fic for them one day. We shall see, though.

Warnings:

[ NSFW. Absolutely no minors.] If you're underage, this was not written for you -nor should you be reading it. If you choose to keep reading, this is strictly a you problem. I can't do anything about it. I warned you.

Things you need to be warned about before reading: implied sexual encounter.

Yes. I realize that I don't go full into writing out the scene. But there's enough here that anyone underage has zero business reading it. So, I'm warning you guys now.

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@micolegg

@mrsstevenbuchananstark

Other Stuff:

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

“Are you feeling okay? You’ve barely touched your food, Nicola.”

My mom’s concerned question cut through my thoughts and I made myself smile, nodding. Taking a bite as I replied through a mouthful, “I’m fine. Was just thinking. That’s all.”

“About?” my mom eyed me expectantly. Hints of an amused smile played at her lips. I hesitated for a moment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost swear that somehow she knew something was up.

,, would it be a stretch to think so? One, she is my mom and two, I’ve been acting skittish and just plain out of it all damn day...” the thought came and as quickly as it did, I shoved it down in the depths of my brain.

I shrugged. “ Nothing in particular.” I gave the vaguest answer I could come up with. If she had one tenth of a clue what I’d really been thinking about just now, I’m honestly not sure how she’d react to it.

I’d been replaying last night over and over again in my mind all day. Every single part of me was dying to ask Pietro if it meant anything or not but at the same time, every single part of me was also scared to death to do that very thing. The one or two times we’d been alone with each other today and I did try, the words got stuck in my throat. And he wasn’t behaving any differently than he normally did, so I kind of just… Let it go. Started to convince myself that making the two of us love the night before was just a one time thing. As my best friend Simone would put it, “Sometimes, you just need to scratch that itch.”

The whole problem with her theory is that even now, having scratched this particular itch.. I wanted to do it again. And again.

I wanted so much more than that too. The brief glimpse I’d gotten of Pietro beneath the sarcasm and the flirty swagger the night before completely did me in. I’d gone from trying hard to keep him at arms length to falling head over feet in love with him and knowing this drove me crazy.

I felt someone staring at me.

I looked up just as Pietro was looking down. Pouting to myself a little, I reached out to grab the spoon in the bowl of mashed potatoes to scoop another serving onto my plate. Pietro reached for the spoon at the same time and when our hands brushed, I felt this little jolt.

He moved his hand but not until he’d let it linger against mine for a second or two. His gaze not leaving mine for the entirety of it. Under the table, my thighs clenched tight. I could see his hands all over me again in my head. Feel his cock buried deep inside me.

I went from a little wet to full on soaked between the mental imagery and the brush of his hand against mine. My stomach coiled.

My body tensed a little.

I dropped my gaze first, busying myself with putting more potatoes on my plate. Pietro kept watching me.

My parents were talking at the head of the table as my mom fed Nathaniel some smushed peas and carrots... My little sister scarfed down her food and then shot out of her chair and out the backdoor to go play a game of tag with my brother in the backyard before it got to dark to play and they had to come inside.

I dared to glance up from shoveling food into my mouth and Pietro gave a teasing wink. Biting his lip as he openly fucked me with his eyes.

And there it went.. The lazy flip flop of my stomach. And no matter what I tried, I couldn’t tear my eyes out of the ocean blue depths of his.

I couldn’t take any more of the torture that was being around him and not having the courage to ask what I was dying to know so I stood and grabbed my plate as soon as I finished eating, making my way into the kitchen to put it in the sink.

I went ahead and washed it while I stood there. I was just drying the plate and about to put it away in the cabinet overhead when I felt Pietro’s muscular body press against me from behind. Wordlessly, he took the plate from my hand and sat it on the top of the stack inside. I turned to face him.

This put us body to body.

I swallowed hard. My mouth opened and closed and for about five or six seconds, I willed myself to say something. Do something.

But I couldn’t bring myself to. Because as much as I was dying to know whether last night was a one time thing or if there was really something between us… Parts of me were scared to death that if I asked, I wouldn’t like the answer.

And that kept me quiet.

Pietro’s hand raised. Reaching out. Brushing strands of hair out of my eyes. I barely restrained a whimper at the touch. His eyes flashed a brighter blue and his head tilted slightly as he stared down at me.

Lost in thought.

His hips pressed into mine harder. When I felt the bulge in his jeans, I took a few shaky breaths. His hand rested on my hip, squeezing. Digging the tips of his fingers into it. He leaned down slightly and his mouth grazed the shell of my ear as he asked, “ty chuvstvuyesh', chto ty delayesh' so mnoy, kotenok?” in a breathless whisper.

If I thought I was wet before, hearing him speak to me in his native tongue had me soaked. Absolutely flooded. The only word I could pick out of whatever he’d asked was kitten. And as usual, when he called me kitten, my heart fluttered just a little more in my chest. He rocked himself into me clumsily and I sucked in a breath.

“Pietro.” I muttered. I was right on the verge of asking him what he’d just said. And asking him about what the night before truly was, if he felt anything or if it just kinda… happened. But just as I thought I’d finally be able to get the words out, it’s like my brain froze up all over again. I frowned at myself in frustration and sighed, shaking my head. “Nothing. It’s silly.”

I heard my dad calling my name from the next room, so I stepped away from Pietro reluctantly and went to leave the kitchen. Pietro grabbed hold of my hips, holding me in place for a few seconds. Staring down at me.

“ I need to talk to you later, kotenok. Alone.”

All I could do was nod. Tell him that I was going to go up to my room in a few minutes.

He nodded.

I stepped away and walked into the next room, only barely managing to pull myself together enough to talk to my parents without either one of them seeming to be aware of just how flustered I truly was.

As soon as I got done talking to my dad, I made my way upstairs. Shutting the door to my room and leaning against it just to hopefully pull myself together.

I still couldn’t.

I flopped across my bed, picking up the Anatomy book and my notebook, preparing to start studying again for the final I had coming up soon and just as I settled into it, there were two knocks at my bedroom door.

I slipped off the bed, wandering over to the door. Opening it.

Pietro leaned in the doorway, gazing down at me. That hungry look in his eyes again.

I stepped out of the doorway and let him into my room, shutting the door behind me. When I turned around to face him, we were body to body. Leaning into me, he put a hand against the door, just above my head. I could feel him straining even harder against his jeans. His other hand raised, resting against the side of my face. Cradling my cheek as he closed the distance between our mouths.

I started out with my palm down. Determined to keep distance between us until I finally worked up the courage to ask my question, hear my dreaded answer and be done, but by the time his tongue slipped past my lips and started to trace my teeth, I was clutching at the front of his fitted black shirt instead. He nipped at my bottom lip, tugging until I felt it swelling under pressure. The kiss deepened until I got so lightheaded I thought I’d melt.

He seemed to sense this because he crushed me against him and the hand cupping my face drifted down. Skimming down my side. Stopping at my hip.

The kiss finally broke so we could breathe and we pulled apart; breathless. Staring at each other quietly. Wide-eyed.

“Kotenok…” he muttered softly. Fondly. His voice dying away as he stared down at me like he was lost in thought. Trying to say something.

“What’s up?” I mumbled, my stomach flipping and flopping lazily.

“Last night was..” he went quiet on me again and I tensed a little, bracing myself for him to continue. Preparing myself in the event that what he was about to say wasn’t what I longed to hear.

So it shocked me when he was closing the distance between our mouths all over again as he muttered in a lust-filled whisper, “Last night was more than just sex. You make me feel things that I haven’t before, kotenok.”

My breath caught in my throat and I didn’t realize it until I finally took a breath and it was shaky. I gazed up at him, letting his words sink in. Trying to wrap my head around it. I went to say something, to tell him that I felt the same way and I didn’t do what we’d done last night often, but he pressed the side of his finger against my lips, silencing me and continued to speak.

“You make my heart beat faster.” he took hold of the hand I had rested against his chest, placing it over his heart. I gasped quietly as I looked up at him again and saw the way he was looking back down at me, a look of pure and total adoration.

He looked nervous as hell. Fidgeting a little. Not quite sure what to do with his hands after he moved one off my hip and let go of my hand with the other. He went to step away, swearing under his breath and I realized that he wanted me to react somehow.

I pressed against him from behind. My hand wrapping around his where it lingered on the knob to my bedroom door. “Don’t go. Please?” I asked in a hushed whisper. Pietro turned around and when he did, I melted against him. Raising my arms to wrap them around his neck. Dragging my fingers through a thick mess of platinum blond. Tugging at it as I rose to tiptoe and crashed my mouth against his. Laughing softly when our noses bumped and our lips connected all over again; hungry. Desperate. Frenzied.

He reached down, twisting the lock on my door knob so that it was locked and no one could come in by accident. A low growl rose up from the depths of his chest, hanging in the air between us only to be swallowed by the kiss as our mouths reconnected and it deepened. I rubbed myself against him clumsily. Needy.

His hands locked across my ass and he slipped me up his body, stepping over to my bed. Dropping me against my mattress softly and positioning himself on top of me. Pressing his hips into mine. Bucking against me as his mouth strayed from my own, working it’s way down the side of my neck. His lips caught on my pulse, making me shiver and rock myself up into him as I gave a needy whine and raised my legs, squeezing his hips with my knees. The kiss broke and he muttered against my mouth with a teasing grin, “ Think you can be quiet for me, kotenok?”

“ I can try.” I whimpered as his mouth worked down the front of my throat, teeth scraping against skin. Stubble tickling me. Making me cling to him as he snapped his hips against me and his hands moved down between us, catching in the hem of my shirt. He pulled me up to a sitting position and pulled my shirt off, tossing it onto my bedroom floor. I tugged at his shirt, whining impatiently and he chuckled. Nipping softly at my bottom lip as he teased, “Patience.”

“Pietro.” I pleaded.

He tugged his shirt over his head, letting it settle on the floor near mine. And then he was leaning in. His hands moving up my sides. Stopping to squeeze my breasts, growling to himself quietly before reaching around. Hooking a thick digit beneath the band of my bra and working the clasps free. He pulled it off, balling it up and tossing it on the floor with the rest of our clothes as he leaned into me even more, my back pressed flat against my bed all over again. He positioned himself on top of me, his body spreading my legs wide and as his head dipped down, my fingers curled in my blanket and thick blond hair.

His mouth worked across my collarbones. Then lower. He squeezed my tits together, mouth diving down. Latching onto one of my nipples. Tongue circling lazily until he’d teased it to a point and I was squirming beneath him, rocking my hips, desperate for any kind of friction I could get. My fingers caught in the waistband of his jeans and I worked the button and the zipper free. He pulled away and slipped off the bed to shed his jeans and underwear and eyed me hungrily. Leaning down. Meeting my gaze with a mischief filled smirk as he took off my pants. Holding my gaze the entire time.

I kicked my pants free at the ankle and he was on top of me again. The tip of his thick cock brushing right against my fabric covered crotch as he bucked into me and muttered against my mouth, “Are you ready for me, kotenok?”

“Please?” I begged breathlessly, barely managing to keep my voice a whisper as I did so. When he smirked at me as if he were pleased with himself, I realized exactly what his goal was.

He wanted to see just how close he could get me to getting loud.

I pouted up at him and he chuckled. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re being a tease. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Oh?” he muttered, his hand disappearing between us. Slipping into my panties. Fingers working me open. Burying deep in my throbbing, wet sex. I arched my back and gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging at it as I rocked against his hand.

It wasn’t enough. I wanted him buried to the hilt inside of me. Now.

But Pietro was in a teasing mood tonight. Something told me that the more I begged, the more he was going to prolong it. And if I didn’t beg? He’d prolong it.

I was absolutely fucked.

One way or another, he was going to have me screaming his name by the end of the night.

[dzamie-oc]

05 - Space

Space prompt, eh? A good a time as ever for some hammer-space dragon! Featuring Sylvia, the loveliest little gold dragoness in the Dragonslayer Guild Hall.

Length: 2200 words Rating: M (noncon vore. Not sexual, but it’s still noncon and vore) Summary: Victoria, a dragonslayer in training, learns an unforgettable lesson about how hammerspace dragons work, and perhaps about assuming mundane explanations around fantastical creatures.

Minors DNI with this particular story. I am hella uncomfortable with the idea of y’all openly interacting with vore.

-----

“Hey, Sylvia, any chance I could borrow a gold coin? Need to test the magical affinity of this thing to some elements, and gold’ll do just fine,” the cheetah asked the little golden dragon perched on his shoulder. “Y’know, before I permanently affix the actual part.”

“Yeah, gimme a second. Hand, please.”

Behind them, Victoria watched the pair work - or, well, she watched Dzamie work, while Sylvia mostly just watched him from closer. She had initially stopped by to ask the katul about one of his swordwork lessons, but he seemed busy, so she was fine waiting... for ten minutes longer, maybe. A bit more if she thought she’d get to cuddle the adorable little dragoness. Yes, time and time again, Dzamie himself had repeated that every dragon can kill an incautious slayer, and it was almost always in reference to Sylvia, but the woman found it hard to take it seriously. Not that she’d ever say it aloud. Even if it turned out not to be true, Sylvia seemed to take pride in her rumored “danger,” and Victoria liked the little lady too much to rain on her parade.

A loud hiss filled the air, then Dzamie waved a gold coin in his hand back and forth, steam rising up from his paw and the coin. “What’s he doing that does that?” the human asked herself, aloud.

Dzamie, however, was the one to respond, without looking up. “Oh, fire spells come easy to me, so I use ‘em to quickly dry off stuff Sylvia gives me. Gives the workshop a certain smell, but it’s not really enough drool to bother humans.” His voice dropped to a mutter as he looked over his work, then nodded and spoke up again. “Yeah, that’ll work. But, yeah, if you ever catch me after a swim, I do the same thing to myself - just, with a silencing spell when there’s people around.”

Having been unofficially invited into the conversation, Victoria walked closer. The katul was working on what looked an awful lot like a gun from a video game. “Huh, forgot you did cosplay,” she remarked, “and, wait, why would what she gave you be wet?”

Two pairs of eyes swung to look at her, one tiny and yellow, one more her size and, well, also yellow, but with a purple aura around them that soon cleared. “I trust him to return items from my hoard,” Sylvia said, “and, naturally, anything I don’t bag up for protection gets wet.”

Victoria looked around, trying to find where the little dragoness might have put a hoard that she could somehow reach from Dzamie’s shoulder, to no avail. Luckily for her, Sylvia easily read the human’s face, smiled, swished her tail, and said, “Hmm, tell you what. You’re nice enough to me, good enough pets and all that.”

“Oh, is she the other one who’s been giving you strawberries?” Dzamie asked. He was looking back at the prop again, where a finger wreathed in green fire poked at a floating spell circle of the same color.

Sylvia huffed. “Anyway! Would you like to see my hoard, Victoria?” The golden dragoness sat up as tall as she could to deliver her next line, “just be aware that if you try to steal from me, your life is forfeit.”

Any tiny, intimidating effect she might have had was immediately discarded as her furry, feline perch moved his arm and sent her tumbling onto the table. In spite of herself, Victoria laughed. “Sorry, sorry!” she said, “it’s just, the timing. I would love to see your hoard, Sylvia. Assuming it’s not just that coin. Uh, no offense, you’re just, well, you-sized.”

Dzamie interrupted again, muttering “alright, let’s see if this doesn’t explode this time” as he picked up his project in one hand. “And Victoria, pop quiz! Zero percent of your grade. What species of dragon is this adorable golden derg?”

“Don’t call me a derg.”

“Adorable golden dragon,” the cheetah amended. The device in his hand whirred and glowed with his green magic, and successfully failed to explode, at which he gave a satisfied “heh.”

Victoria leaned against one of the other tables, trying to recall. “She’s a... hammer-something. Not hammerhead, hammer... hammerspace!” she said with a confident smile.

Dzamie nodded. “Fantacular. Just making sure you might know what you’re in for.” He turned to Sylvia. “I’m gonna go test this out proper. Back in a few.”

The dragoness on the table walked over to the edge and sat down, facing Victoria. “Okay, then, just set your sword... somewhere and give me your hands.” As she did so, unsheathing the weapon and laying it flat, Sylvia continued, “I never figured out whether it’s easier for you if I go slow or fast, but I like slow, so I’m gonna go slow.”

“Oh, and you’ll want to ditch the rest of your armor,” Dzamie added, gesturing to her with the toy gun, “trust me on this, it’s uncomfortable and then you just have to clean it unnecessarily.”

Victoria glared at him. “Sure, Teach, let me just strip down right in front of a male katul all alone in this room.”

Dzamie passed his prop to his other hand, then held up his fingers as he counted off, “okay, one, Sylvia’s here with us; two, just because I fit the stereotype doesn’t mean you should use it; and three-” he lifted his project, “- the only reason I’m coming back here in the next half hour is if this thing explodes on teleport. ...which you better not,” he muttered at the prop. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.

For a solid minute, Victoria stared at the spot he’d vanished, almost daring him to teleport back in. Sylvia coughed to get her attention. “He’s not wrong, though. I don’t know about armor maintenance, but usually people prefer to be in comfortable clothes.” The little dragoness turned her head away and flicked her tail back and forth. “If, uh, if they wear any, but people like that are few and far between. Look, it is pretty cramped on the way to my hoard, but I’d be an awful friend if I insisted you get rid of things that aren’t weapons.”

“Things that aren’t weapons?”

The golden dragon gave her a flat look. “Can you really blame me, a dragon, for not trusting dragonslayers with weapons?”

“Fair point.” Victoria sighed. After a moment more of internal debate, she started to remove her armor. She asked Sylvia for some help, and before long, she stood before the hammerspace dragon in a sports bra and athletic shorts, glad that her friend was a dragon and not a katul, or a human.

Sylvia looked her up and down; Victoria jokingly asked if she thought she was hiding knives or something. “I... already checked, actually. Just thought dragonslayers wore something more underneath. Laundry day?”

The human grimaced. “It’s done, just... I wasn’t thinking earlier. Er, so, hands?”

“Hands!”

Victoria tentatively held her hands out in front of Sylvia, who pressed them together with her little paws. She brought her muzzle right next to the woman’s fingers, then looked up and said, “just so you know, I’m not letting you back down from this.” Before Victoria could ask what she meant by that, the dragoness opened her jaws and lunged forward.

She could hardly believe her eyes. Her arms looked just fine all the way down to her wrists, but there... they simply weren’t. Sylvia’s snout started, and her arms stopped. Her hands were surrounded by something warm, squishy, and wet, and when she tried to move them or pull them apart, they were pressed back in on each other. Then, a wave of pressure rolled down the hidden hands, and Victoria watched as more of her forearms also shared her hands’ plight. She wiggled her hands more, but there was no change. It took a few seconds for her mind to finally piece it all together: Sylvia was eating her. Somehow.

Another swallow pulled her elbows in, locking her arms out straight. In the back of her head, Victoria knew that she really ought to be panicking, that being eaten by a dragon was something she should not be going calmly into. But still, even as she bent over to the table, leaning down towards the dragon’s tiny body, it was hard to really take it seriously. After all, if she turned her head, she could see that not one of Sylvia’s scales were out of place, so CLEARLY the tiny dragon couldn’t be swallowing her.

A moment later, and she no longer had that problem. Her head was buried deep in somewhere dark pink, surrounded by hot, wet flesh, and any time she moved her arms or twisted her head, all she heard was wet “shlrk”s and squishes as she was guided back into position. The dragoness’s next swallow came more quickly, as though anticipating the human’s reaction:

Now that her eyes were no longer trying to tell her she wasn’t being eaten, Victoria came to the obvious conclusion: her friend had betrayed her trust for a meal. However, she found that she wasn’t scared, or terrified. Be it her own natural inclinations, or her, admittedly incomplete, training as a dragonslayer, Victoria instead found rage. With a primal yell, she twisted and turned, thrashing her arms to try to choke or even gag Sylvia, and she kicked one knee up, trying to feel her way into slamming into the tiny trickster. Unfortunately, the next thing she felt was her knee pinned against her belly, joining the rest of her upper body in the tight, slimy tunnel. Dragon drool got in her mouth, so she spat and sputtered as her hips, shorts, and other thigh were engulfed by the irrationally long throat. Between the heat, the steady, almost soothing noises of wet throatflesh squishing against her skin, the humid, heavy air, and simple exertion, Victoria soon found the fight slip away from her. Ankle-deep in what she thought was a very small dragon, the human sighed and let Sylvia close her jaws after her foot without a struggle.

When her head pressed against the ring of muscle, Victoria had resigned herself to her fate as dragon food. After all, the only person who knew where she was was Dzamie, and that katul would probably demand something-

Her head ran into something solid, and a clattering sound entered her ears, rather than just the constant squelching of wet flesh. Victoria opened her eyes, then sat up and- well, sat up, brushed her hair and Sylvia’s drool from her eyes, and then really opened them to see...

A pile of assorted coins, gold, silver, bronze, and more, bars of precious metals, gems of many colors, piled up nearly as tall as Victoria, herself! A trio of abstract sculptures - possibly part of a set, Victoria reasoned, though one could never really tell with that much abstraction. And, for some reason-

“So, how is it? I’m glad you calmed down eventually,” came Sylvia’s voice from all around.

“There’s... a train engine...” was all Victoria could say.

The little dragoness laughed. “Haha, yeah! One of my earlier additions, actually. I bet every hammerspace dragon does one of those, ‘okay, but CAN I eat that?’ things; I just decided to keep mine for a while, as a trophy, and over time, well, it’s a bit sentimental now.”

“You ATE and KEPT an ENTIRE TRAIN OUT OF THE-?!” the human shouted, dumbfounded, then faltered. “Uh, what’s it called, train house?”

Another laugh. “No, no, I ate a MOVING train - well, just pulling out, not that fast - and kept the engine car. The passenger car and all the delicious treats within are years gone.” There was a pause, and then. “Don’t worry, though. I’m much nicer these days, keep myself in the green zone.”

Victoria sighed, crawled over to the vehicle, and climbed into a seat. “Well, as far as places to die go, this place at least looks nicer than I expected.”

“Die? Who said anything about that? I’m not letting you stay in my stomach, you’ve got stuff to learn and I’ve got strawberries to eat, given only to dragons who DON’T have anyone stewing away in their bellies. ...willing meals notwithstanding.”

Another sigh, though this time of exasperation. “Sylvia... stomachs digest organic material. I am an organic material. I just hope I pass out before the pain gets to me too much.”

This time, there was raucous laughter, followed by a shriek and a swear. “Uh, sorry, fell off the table. You should attend more dragon biology lessons. And/or ask Dzamie for some notes, though if you do, prepare to have an entire encyclopedia dumped on you. Unabridged.”

“I’m safe?”

“You’re the biggest danger to yourself in there. Don’t smash yourself in the head with a sculpture and you’ll be fine.”

Victoria’s mind was still reeling. Nearly half a dozen earthshaking revelations in only a few minutes was not an easy thing to deal with. “And... you’ll let me out when I ask?”

“Or in half an hour. I want strawberries and that’s when there are strawberries. Oh, but make sure you aren’t holding anything when you come back up, or you WILL be eaten again, and it WON’T be to see all my shinies.”

This time, Victoria decided to take her threat seriously. And she had more reason to not “rain on her parade” about being a deadly maneater.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

ANGEL REYES x (OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA DAUGHTER)! READER ⨟ PROMPT

Anon #1 asked: if it’s not a bother to you could you do 83&88 with angel reyes💖

Anon #2 asked: 84&87 with angel reyes

Anon #3 asked: 91&96, nsfw/smutty, angel reyes♥️

Prompts:

83. “Raise your ass”.

88. “Your father is in the other room”.

84. “On your knees”.

87. “Put on my kutte”.

91. “Should be illegal taste so good”.

96. “I’m virgin”.

WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUT

Word Count: 4k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @cherieann-2001 💖

Author comments: I'm not sorry for this, guys. I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“YOU WHAT?”

You frown pulling him into the empty clubhouse, as he crew stared at you because of his words. He's laughing loud, feeling him somewhat alleviated after so much tension the last three days.

“What's so funny?”

“Shit, baby… was that what worried you?”

“That I'm virgin? Yeah, of course!”

Angel just hugs you, confusing you because he doesn't seem angry at all. 

“God… I was feeling so fucking insecure, saying to myself that I fall in love for first time and she isn’t attracted to me”.

“I am, you idiot”. 

“Yeah, but you stopped me every time I tried… you know, going farther”. He says almost chuckling gently kissing your head”. Shit, you broke the barometer of feeding my ego, mi amor. But, it's okay, I'll wait ti—”

“I'm ready, Angel. I just… I didn't know how to tell you”.

He looks at you with both eyebrows raised, surprised and excited in equal parts.

“My father is not gonna be tonight at home, you could… come over”.

“Yeah, I'll definitely come”. He jokes with you with a singsong voice. 

“Angel!” You laugh strongly patting his chest. 

“What? You asked for it, mi dulce”.

“So… you're okay with that?”

“Of course, yes, baby. You don' know how happy you're making me feel right now”.

After your father is already gone, having warned you to lock all the doors in his ‘overprotective-mood’, you run to your room to get ready. You change your clothes, wearing nothing but a black lace panties and one of Angel's shirts you usually put on when he's out of town. You've been together for a month, even though you only found out about his feelings for you six days ago. One day, you just decided to give him a chance, and you couldn't have been more wrong, thinking he would fuck up by hanging with some chick or getting tired of you.

Having one last look at yourself in the mirror, you go to answer the door bell. Angel is already there, letting his eyes travel around your body, as soon as you open the door.

“Shit, baby… It's the first time I see you wearing one of my shirts”. He babbles totally amazed.

“Does it look good?” You ask then, turning around for him. 

“Fu—Fucking good”. He nods swallowing.

“Has your last neuron collapsed?”

“I have zero doubts”. He nods again keeping his parted lips, whilst holding his hand to guide him to your room. 

Soft Lights are hanging on the wall. And you don't know why, but it feels like if it was Angels first time too. He was acting so confident that morning, that you can't help but chuckle a little when you find him shaking under your grip, He sat himself on the edge of the king size bed.

“So… If I hurt you at… anytime, just tell me, please”.

“I will, Angel. Relax. I'm virgin, not an atomic bomb about to explode, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… fuck, I'm sorry”. He says when you're placing a knee next to his body.

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” You laugh somewhat loud, finally sitting on his lap while he holds you.

“Shit, 'cause I'm fucking nervous!” He frowns softly. “I wanna do'et good. I wanna make you feel good. It's a big responsibility”.

“If you d—”.

“Of course I want”. He sighs, resting his forehead on your chest for a second.

His lips close around your skin, kissing it gently enjoying the scent of vanilla on your skin, the smell so sweet it drives him mad the closer he gets to your neck. His fingers grip your shirt while yours caress his head. A low moan escapes from your mouth when Angel bites you, pulling you a little closer, growling over your collarbone. Then Angel takes off your shirt, trying to calm himself down and go slow to not make you feel uncomfortable. With his eyes on yours, he brings his lips to one of your nipples; sucking and licking them. It gives you some chills when he sighs against it, so pleased that you can't help but swing your hips softly.

“You're a fucking goddess, mami”. He gasps reaching your lips.

His tongue finds yours inside your mouth, caressing it as you begin to feel the erection I his jeans, a delicious friction to your panties that make you moan a little. Without breaking the kiss, Angel takes off his rings to put them inside a pocket, before place his hands on your back.

“It's okay if I s—?”

“Don't ask, Angel, just do'et”. You whimper somewhat desperate.

One of his hands crawls down your right side to your stomach, reaching under your panties. His skin is so cold compared to yours, closing your eyes the moment that he slides a finger among your folds, digging in. You drown a moan on his lips, watching him biting his own with some strength that makes you shake just with that view.

“Fuck, mi dulce… Look at you… So fucking wet fo' me”. His hoarse voice gives you nice chills, licking your lips with the tip of his tongue.

His finger feels so good exploring you, slightly curved, thrusting you softly. Angel drinks every gasp he provokes you, memorizing every gesture of your face. He doesn't want to forget it. Choosing him to lose your virginity with, makes him feel like the most lucky man on earth. He loves you, he wants to please you at all costs, show you every single emotion he feels for you. Without asking, he slides a second one having to cover your mouth with a hand to drown a low moan. 

“Don' fuckin' do that or 'am gonna stop”. Reyes slaps it with his free hand making you chuckle as he thrusts into you a little fast. “I'm dying to taste you”.

He sounds desperate, trying not to lose control when he finds your hips bouncing low over his hand.

“Do it”. You almost beg for it, seconds before he is pulling out his fingers to help you to lie on your back.

His calloused hands run over your thighs before sliding your panties off and throwing them aside. Kneeling next to the bed, Angel lifts up your legs to his shoulders, leaving some soft bites on your skin getting closer to your center. Maintaining your look, he explores your entrance with his tongue. Your back arches when he catches your swollen clit between his lips, sucking it so delicately as if it was the best thing he has ever try out. 

“Fuck, Angel…” You groan placing your hands on his black messy hair.

He smirks proudly sinking his mouth into your pussy, tucking in two fingers again. He knows exactly what to do, making you squirm under the arm holding your waist to hold you closer. His hand works you out faster than before, as his tongue explores your wet skin from top to bottom making some pressure against it. Angel sighs when he's out of air, biting and sucking your pelvis to leave a beautiful small bruise.

“It should be illegal taste so good”. He mutters, rubbing his scratchy cheeks against your thighs, moving his wrist nailing his fingers inside you. “I wan'ya to cum in ma' mouth, keep makin'me happy, mi dulce”.

You can't even say a word when he devours your pussy again, shaking your breath and your body, going deeper and somewhat fast. You're aroused because of him, that you know you won't take much longer. Angel knows exactly where to touch you to make you scream his name, while the heat runs down your spine flowing out in your abdomen.

“Fuck, Angel!” You cry out feeling how the delicious orgasm wraps your body, while he continues only with his mouth, drinking your juices so delighted. “Oh, fuck, baby…”

Your phone starts to ring with ‘The Imperial March’ over the nightstand, you two growl, stretching a hand to it.

“Please, don' answer”. Your boyfriend begs you, crawling on the mattress.

“El presidente is calling”. You snort showing him the screen. “Hey… dad”.

“Can you open the door? I forgot my keys”.

“I'm in”. Leaving the phone away, Angel rolls on the bed, getting up as you find something to wear that it's not his shirt. Finding some pajamas and putting them on as you walk towards the entrance. 

“Were you sleeping?”

“No… Yes… I mean…”

“Looks like you had a nightmare”.

“Yeah… something like that”.

“Do you want me to stay, ah?” He asks putting an arm over your shoulders, leaving a smooth kiss on your sweaty temple. Then, you shake your head. “Okay, go back to bed, but lock the door. And call me if you have another one, I'll be here in less than five minutes, princesa”.

“Vale, papá”. (Okay, dad).

“Te amo, lo sabes, ¿verdad?” (I love you, you know it, right?)

“Yo también te amo”. (I love you too).

“Go back to sleep, c'mon”.

Kissing his cheek hugging him tightly, you leave him leading going back to your room. Angel is behind it about to have a heart attack. Closing the door and locking it, you pull him into you, crashing your lips with his. Taking off your clothes while his big hands paw every inch of your body, you attack his belt undoing it.

“Your father is in the other room”. He mutters when his back finds the wall.

“So, what?” You reply on his lips standing on your tiptoes, losing your shit when you unzip his jeans to free himself.

“Fuck… Go on your knees, mi dulce”. He whispers, biting your mouth, watching you take it as an order.

Rolling his pants and his boxers, after Angel he takes off his boots, heel against heel; you wrap his throbbing cock in your hand jerking him off slowly, Seeing how he tries not to make a single noise. His hands go straight to your hair, getting tangled in it,when your tongue draws some circles over his reddened glans. Angel has his eyes strongly closed, his back slightly curved, urging you to suck his cock. Your mouth receives it totally pleased, pressing your throat and holding it there for a few seconds. You can see Angel opening his lips, eliciting a loud moan. You hear Bishoos steps getting closer to the door, as he knocks he says

“One last thing”.

“Yeah, dad?” You quickly ask.

“Your bike is losing oil, Angel. Fix it tomorrow, I don't want you to have an accident”.

“Su—Sure, prez”.

“Good. And use condoms”.

“DAD!”

“USE IT, I SAID. OR I WILL FUCKING CUT HIM INTO PIECES”.

“Fuck, prez… We're ju—We're just gonna sleep… together”.

“Use it if you want to stay alive, Reyes!”

You can't help but break out in laughs when you're sure your father is already gone. Angel can barely breathe, But before he can complain about your father, you're sucking his dick again deeper. He finally moans as he wanted to do. His hands on your head marks the rhythm, somewhat faster, wetting all his extension with your tongue. He keeps his eyes on you,on your lips, enjoying the way you have to blow him so needy as he was eating you out. And it tastes good. Angel tastes so good.

But he can't handle much longer the desire to fuck you, to make you his. By grabbing your chin with two fingers, he urges you to stand up, devouring in a dirty way your mouth. Your salivas getting mixed with the flavor of your own juices, walking backwards to your bed, to lay down there. He takes off his shirt, throwing it to the floor, breaking the desperate kiss to give you the leather jacket.

“Put on my kutte. I wanna fuck you wearing it, mi princesa Maya”.

Your legs tremble hearing say that. And you do, before he makes some space between your legs, spreading it and ignoring Bishop's warning. Neither of you want to use it for your first time, and you already have a pill for tomorrow just in case. Angel looks at you, totally naked, opened waiting for him. And he's realizing that heaven must looks like that. 

“Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful, mi amor”. He whispers amazed, lying on top of you, stroking himself close to your clit. “Tell me if you need to stop, okay?”

You nod starting to be terrified. You know that mostly it hurts a little, and Angel is so big. More than you could imagine. But you know that he's going to be understanding and careful, guiding his glans among your wet folds. He moves his pelvis slowly, growling because of how warm and tight you are, not wanting to lose a single expression on your face.

“Shit… hold a second, Angel”. You beg closing your eyes when his cock finds your limits.

“Okay, okay, baby. It's okay… you want me to pull it out?”

“Please, do—don't move”.

“I will not”.

He tries to comfort you leaving smooth kisses all around your face, caressing your arms with his fingertips. You can't deny that it hurts and itches to some extent, until almost a minute passes by. He moves himself slowly, when your body is less tense, surrounding you with his arms. Now, you can feel it. You can feel the pleasure of his hard cock stretching your tightness, once and again. Slow. So slow that it's driving you insane.

“¿Estás bien, mi dulce?” (You okay?) He whispers with shaky breath on your ear. You just nod. It's impossible for you say a single word. “Fuck, baby… this is the fuckin' paradise”.

He makes you chuckle, pounding you as soon as he knows that you're good with that, hitting your g-stop and making you scream out full of pleasure.

“That's it, baby… Fuck... Do it again”. He begs you, thrusting his pelvis against you somewhat harder. You can't help but moan loudly again. 

He's helping you to discover feelings that you never thought you would be able to feel. The mix between tickles, pleasure and chills, making you lose your mind. His thrusts become constant, deeper, faster, as your vocals. He's enjoying more the fact that you're whimpering his name, that the pleasure of your first time gives him narrowing his cock inside you.

“Oh, fuck… Angel, don'—don't stop, please… I fucking beg you!”

“Not until you cum on my dick, princesa”.

His growls against your mouth increasing the heat running through your body, bristling your skin. Leading his lips back to your neck, your boyfriend bites hard, pressing your fingers on his nape to push him closer. You open your legs a little more, but surrounding his waist with one of them intensifying the pleasure. You didn't finish yet, and you already want to do it again.

“Fuck, mami… on all fours. I wanna fuck you from behind”.

And that's sound so much better, until you feel empty whining upset a little, but adopting the position he has ask you.

“Chest down, mami”. 

When your weight is over your palms and your knees, he softly presses your nape to the bed.

“Raise your ass and spread those fucking beautiful legs fo' me”.

You do it, without complaining, anxious for feeling him inside. A strong slap right to your ass makes you squirm surprised, crying out because of it. But before you can say anything, his cock is pushing into your body again to the limit, drilling your pussy with repetitive moves. You're sure that your neighbors are going to hear you scream his full name, agsin and again. His fingers rabbbng on your hips and his pelvis colliding against your folds creating a delicious wet melody that floods your room, intermingling with your noises.

“You like it, mi dulce?”

“Yes… Yes… Fuck, Angel, you're so… so fucking big”.

Reyes tangles a hand in your hair, pulling you up until his chest finds your back covered by the kutte.

“This big cock is only yours, mi princesa”. He grunts into your ear, biting your lobe.

The position changes a little with your body stuck against his. His left hand travels to your throat holding it, while the other goes down to your pleased pussy being thrust into with all his strength, rubbing your clit with his forefinger. When you thought he couldn't give you more pleasure, he just does this other thing. Fuck you. Finger you. Bite you. All in one, and you can't fight your feelings much more.

“Angel… Angel…”

“Fuckin' cum, mi vida… make me happy”. He begs looking for your lips, twisting your neck a little.

“I wanna do'et rid—riding your cock… please. Shit, please, Angel”.

You're going to kill him, asking him those things. He's falling in love with you somewhat more every time you open your mouth. He pulls out himself, knowing that he's close to cumming, lying on the bed to let you sit on his lap. He doesn't miss a single detail, nor a single gesture, nor a single move, biting his lower lip and watching how you lead his cock back to your pussy. 

Your hips bounce on him, dancing above his pelvis, going a little bit deeper. You could say that coming to an orgasm is similar with using your fingers, but you would be lying. It hits you harder, warmer, closing your fingers on his chest and going faster when you feel the explosion inside your belly, arching your back. A howl full of pleasure in your throat, with your boyfriend's name on it.

“Shit, baby…” You're almost crying, leaping on top of him.

“Don't stop, mi dulce… I'm gon—gonna fuckin' cum…”

You're not. You want to feel him, speeding up your moves. By his heavy breathing you know pretty well he is on the edge, bending over his chest looking for his tongue. Kissing him, your hands lead his straight to your ass, slapping it again before squeezing it and helping you to go deeper on your pussy.

“Fuck, daddy… cum inside me…”

“Shit, how di—did you c…”

“Daddy… My daddy”. You gasps somewhat exhausted while he pushes you with non-stop.

“Beg for it, mi dulce… Beg for your daddy's cum”. 

Rolling over the mattress, putting your back on it, Angel thrust his cock faster with a hand wrapping your throat tightly.

“Oh, fuck…” You sob with your legs trembling a little more than before. “Fuck, daddy… Daddy, please… Cum inside me, I deserve it, please…”

“Yeah, babygirl… Daddy is gonna… make you feel full. Only your daddy Angel, you hear me…?”.

“Only you, daddy, but… fuck… please cum inside me”.

You catch his lips between yours, kissing him dirtly exploring his whole mouth with your tongue. Your boyfriend is out of air, moaning into your mouth when he feels the lash of heat hitting his lower abdomen, filling you with his seed and feeling how it spills down your thighs when he pounds you again, pressing his body against yours as much as he can. He holds it inside you, looking at your eyes burning in lust. Every time he bites his lip, your heart jumps, doing it as he pushes you a little more moving your body above the mattress some inches.

“Angel! Fuck!” You cry out, making him chuckles between some gasps.

“Fuck, mi dulce… You feel so good… so warm… so tight. Your pussy is suffocating me… so fucking much… shit, it feels so good, I swear to god”. He mutters exhausted, touching your lips with his.

“Hold it just a little more, please…”

“All the time you want, mi amor… This cock is only yours… Only for you”. 

Crossing the clubhouse' main door sounds easy, but it's not. Your holding hands with Angel, carrying the helmet in the other. He looks at you for a second, leaning towards you to press his lips with yours. You know everything is going to be okay, even so you can't help but feeling a little terrified. 

“What's'ap, bro?” 

The guys receive you and, by the emotion on their faces, you realize that Angel probably told him. Finding your father stepping out from the Templo, followed by Taza and Tranq, you try to look calm.

“Buenos días, princesa”. He says practically ripping you out of Angel's arms, to hug you closer.

“Buenos días, papá”. You mutter a little nervous.

“Yo, Bish… op… Bishop. My bike. Is okay”.

“Yeah, it is”. He just say, holding you against his chest.

“How did you kn—”.

“I know every fucking smell of my daughter, pendejo. I ‘made’ her, remember? I've been taking care of her since she was fucking born”. Your father is pointing at him with his forefinger, again, showing his overprotective and jealous mood. “And you use that… fucking cologne that has a strong smell”.

“Dad, please… stop”.

“Listen to me, princesa. Si este pendejo te hace llorar, lo ataré al techo y le arrancaré la piel pedazo a pedazo. Después, se la haré comer”. (If this asshole makes you cry, I'll handle him from the rooftop to rip off his skin, piece by piece. Then, I'll make him eat it).

The whole group could have heard Angel swallow. But then it seems like heis reborn like a phoenix. Grabbing you from your father's arms and placing a hand on your waist.

“Look, Bishop. I'm not gonna fuck this up and I don' give a shit if you like or not. I love (Y/N), and I'm gonna take care of her”. You're freaking out, along with the crew. And God, he's so hot in that mood. “So, no matter how hard you try, she's my princ—”.

“Finish the sentence, and I'm gonna bury you alive, motherfucker”.

Taza is making a sign to end the conversation behind your father. Not this road, Angel Reyes. Don't ride this road. Obispo is lower than him, but he has his balls so fucking high.

“Mi hija, mi princesa. Don't you dare to cross the limit, Angel”. Your father is facing him, with his chin raised up. “I don't give a fuck what you do with her, when I'm not close. Unless you hurt her. But I'm here, and you're gonna fucking respect my rules”.

“Okay, dad, eno—”.

“Shut the fuck up, no one is talking with you, querida”.

Frowning, you know it's your time to set off the fire. Grabbing your father's kutte, you pull him outside of the clubhouse, while he continues threatening Angel in the distance. You lead him to the warehouse, closing the door behind you. 

“I'll fucking bury him, if he tries to call you again ‘princesa’ in my presence!” He shouts at you.

Here he is. Your jealous father. The most jealous man on earth. 

“Ok, dad, we all get it”.

“Don' fucking joke with me! You don' know how painful this is”.

“What the fuck, dad…?”

“Seeing you spending more time with him than with me. I understand it, you're growing and all that shit. But one day you will say ‘goodbye, I'm moving’ and I'll see you one or two hours every… I don' know how much days”.

“Okay, dad… calm down”.

You notice that your father is having a panic attack. Quickly, you help him to sit on a metallic box, kneeling close to him and taking off the kutte to undone some buttons of his shirt.

“Dad, breathe, okay? Breathe…”

He tries while you hold his hands, leaving some kisses on the back of them, until he starts to do better.

“You will always be mi rey, the one and only love of my life… okay?” He just nods with his gaze away from you. “There's no man , and no woman I could love more than I love you, you hear me? And I will not… limit myself visiting you just one hour every day, in the case I move on. And if I do… it will be in a lot of time”.

He doesn't say anything, sitting you on his lap and resting his face on your chest, closing his eyes, trying to keep calm.

“I hope you fucking used a condom”.

“Did you?”

“... I don' think so”.

“See, dad? Family business”.

“I'm gonna fucki—”

“Papá, te amo”.

“Bu—”.

“Shut up. Don' fuckin' ruin the moment”.

[justsomeoneunordinary]

Solo Tu

Day 4 of @winteriron-week​: Fluff

Yeah, I said in the last fic that I’d combine day 3 and 4, but I don’t like how it looks like with one missing, so I still wrote this for day 4 specifically.

Also, there is obviously absolutely no chance that I’ll manage finishing the remaining prompts until Wednesday when the collection closes. While I’m a little bit disappointed in myself for that (even though it’s not my fault real life is a thing and got in the way), I still wanna write them all, just because. So, while they won’t be in the collection anymore, I will continue to upload them here on Tumblr as well as on AO3.

T, 1.4k, Tooth-Rotting Fluff With Absolutely Zero Plot Whatsoever | AO3

(Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3)

—

Solo tu

Col calore

Quel mattino che rinasce

Intorno al sole

Cosa puo’ piu’ importare

Se la pelle tua si lascia accarezzare

The soft melody of the Italian song woke Bucky. He felt a hand brush through his hair and the smell of coffee rose immediately to his nostrils as he took a deep breath and slowly stretched.

“Your hair is so soft,” Tony murmured as he began to gently pluck on individual strands. “I still don’t know how you do it. After all, we use the same conditioner.”

Bucky just grunted and buried his face deeper into Tony’s lap. A breeze blew through the open window and carried in the smell of the salt water, which blended together with that of the coffee, and automatically put a smile on his face.

“Must be the super soldier serum,” Tony concluded.

This made Bucky snort. “What, you think the serum enhanced my hair’s smoothness?”

“How else can you be two thousand years old and still not suffer from hair loss?” Bucky could literally hear the triumphant grin in Tony’s voice, he didn’t even have to look up.

“Two thousand? Honey, I think you miscalculated a little.”

“Nonsense, I’m a genius—my math is always right.”

Bucky felt another tug of his hair, this time a little firmer than before, and whatever Tony was up to, it couldn’t be good. “Tony, are you trying to pull my hair out of envy? If so, I can assure you that your hair is at least just as beautiful, especially with the gray areas.”

Tony laughed. “‘At least just as beautiful’, you are not exactly modest.” He continued to pull his hair and explained, “No, you dork. I’m braiding it.” As if it were a matter of course.

“Oh, great. Can’t wait to unknot my hair later.”

This earned him a slight pinch on the ear. “Listen, Barnes, I won’t tolerate such disrespect here.”

Bucky grinned and finally opened his eyes, looking up at Tony’s mock insulted expression, because for what he said next, he wanted to see the reaction, “It’s Stark-Barnes now, get your facts straight.”

And yep, there it was: Tony’s eyes immediately shone with joy, emphasized by the morning sun, which turned the wonderful brown into a brilliant gold. A faint smile formed on his lips and it was as if his face were beaming in competition with the sun.

Bucky couldn’t help but take Tony’s left hand in his and kiss the golden ring on his finger, never taking his eyes off Tony’s.

Four days. Four days since they had said “Yes, I do” and retired for their honeymoon here at the Carbonell residence in Sicily. Just the two of them, this way too big house and the sea.

“I ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y. to only disturb us in an emergency. And only if the world is about to doom. Which means, neither an Avengers nor an SI problem will be able to get in our way,” Tony had explained with a grin when they got here and then dragged Bucky to bed without any warning.

With every morning he woke up, Bucky was struck by the wonder that this was indeed real. That after everything they’d both been through, he could still find happiness with Tony. Sometimes the world did give something back.

“God, you’re so cheesy,” Tony complained half-heartedly, while the smile didn’t leave his lips.

Bucky merely raised an eyebrow and pointed with a look at the loudspeaker from which the song was still being played, because…

Solo tu

Stamattina per alzarmi è ancora giorno insieme a te

… not only he was cheesy.

Tony, however, didn’t see the subtle hint, or ignored it (probably the latter) and went back to working on Bucky’s hair.

“Can I at least drink my coffee first since you’ve already made it?”

“No.”

“But then it will get cold until you are finished with the braiding!” Bucky gave him his best pout, which Tony never was able to refuse.

Apart from today, apparently. “It’s Italian coffee, it’s still good cold too,” Tony said, turning his head vigorously. “Now hold still so I don’t screw it up.”

Bucky thought about saying something along the lines of “I only like it when you’re bossy during sex” but knew that Tony would just wink at him and then tease him on purpose. And he admittedly had nothing to complain about; Tony’s hands in his hair felt heavenly. Tony worked gently and carefully, and Bucky could feel a slight vibration as Tony began to hum along with the song. If he hadn’t already been well rested, he could easily have been lulled into sleep like this.

“My mamma,” Tony began to say after a few seconds of silence, “used to wear her hair waist-length when I was a child. A silky blonde that shone like the sun in the light and had utterly fascinated me. I had always watched her with curiosity as she braided it until one day, she taught me to do it for her.”

Bucky ignored the heavy pressures of guilt as best he could whenever Tony talked about his mother. They had discussed the Winter Soldier’s actions long ago and got them out of the way—Bucky knew Tony was telling these things to him not out of malice but because he wanted to share his memories with Bucky.

However, not having a guilty conscience would never be possible for him.

“After that I did her hair almost every day until I was about nine years old,” Tony finished, a tender expression on his face that spoke of wistfulness and nostalgia. Bucky gasped for a moment when Tony turned his head to the side so that the sunrays fell directly on him—tanned skin golden in the glow, eyes shining like amber and contour framed tightly by light.

If there was a God, Tony had to be one of his celestial beings that he had sent to earth. And he was Bucky’s only.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to pull Tony down and seal his lips with Tony’s sinful ones, but the slight pulling of his hair reminded him not to move, so he was content with just taking in every detail of this paradisical picture above him in order to keep it in his memories forever.

“Now,” Tony took a red hair tie from the nightstand that was right next to the two coffee cups—he must have planned that braiding session—and wrapped it at the end of Bucky’s hair, “done.”

Bucky ran his hand over what was, judging by the pattern, a herringbone braid and smiled at Tony. “How do I look?”

“Like a princess,” came the prompt reply.

“But then I also want some flowers decorated with it. For authenticity.”

Tony laughed out loud at that. “There are some hibiscus flowers growing here, if I remember correctly, so that really shouldn’t be a problem.”

Bucky would have flowers in his hair every day without hesitation if it made Tony laugh like that. “Perfect,” he whispered, and finally sat up to kiss Tony. Tony’s lips on his was a feeling he couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of. If it were possible, he would just never stop.

Tony grinned into the kiss and when they parted, Bucky knew immediately what was coming at the sight of the mischief in his eyes. “Coffee first and then sex? After all, we’re already in bed. Well, technically still, but who cares about this kind of trivialities anyway.”

Called it. In response, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “Isn’t the beach private?”

Tony, genius that he was, didn’t take long to understand. “Oh, I like the way you think! See, this is exactly why I married you.”

“Because of the sex?”

“Precisely.”

Bucky couldn’t help but pull Tony on his shirt and kiss the cheeky grin off his face once again. In the background he heard the sound of the waves, as well as the last tones of the song, the smell of coffee and salt water still lingered in the air—and Tony’s mouth tasted of love.

Whatever their future might bring, Bucky knew he could handle it with Tony by his side. Today, tomorrow and as long as they were lucky, however, they would just enjoy themselves and their togetherness.

And then, once they got back to their chaotic everyday life, they would do it hand in hand together.

Solo tu

Mi sai dare

Cose vecchie sempre nuove da sognare

Mille volte tu lo sai

Non è stato uguale mai

—

Solo Tu by Matia Bazar

(I got the translations from an unofficial site, so I don’t know how true they are. To be fair: it’s cheesy and that’s actually all you really need to know anyway.)

Solo tu ≈ Only you

Col calore ≈ With heat

Quel mattino che rinasce ≈ That morning that is reborn

Intorno al sole ≈ Around the sun

Cosa puo’ piu’ importare ≈ What matters most

Se la pelle tua si lascia accarezzare ≈ If your skin lets you caress

&

Solo tu ≈ Only you

Stamattina per alzarmi è ancora giorno insieme a te ≈ This morning to get up is still day with you

&

Solo tu ≈ Only you

Mi sai dare ≈ You can give me

Cose vecchie sempre nuove da sognare ≈ Old things always new to dream

Mille volte tu lo sai ≈ A thousand times you know

Non è stato uguale mai ≈ It was never the same

[iwantthedean]

YouAU, Take Two! (Writing Challenge)

Thanks to some wonderful encouragement from and a random conversation with my @breakthezone​ friends, I’m bringing this one back! 

I’m going to copy/paste then tweak the information from the first time I did this, four years ago (almost), but you can find the masterlist from the first time I did this challenge here.

The theme, as you might have guessed, of this challenge is – dun, dun, dunnnnnn – self-insert fics.

That’s right, I said it! There’s been so much negativity around here lately (I AM LOOKING AT YOU 2020), I say we just do the thing that makes us happy. Pair yourself with your favorite SPN character or actor, be someone’s sibling, whatever you want. Make it fluffy, make it smutty, make it funny, just do you!

The YouAU Challenge was just designed for fun, and let’s end this year/start next year not only with fun, but doing something for ourselves. Let’s take off the pressure from hateful anons and feeling like we have to update that series or putting out something everybody will love (or all the other IRL crap I’m not even going to mention). This is just about you! Hashtag, TREAT YO’SELF!

Uh, and me because guess what – I’m participating in this one too! I surprised myself last time by what I came up with, so who knows ... maybe we’ll all surprise ourselves this time. 

Details and tags for signal boosting or possible interest under the cut!

1. I am using AU in the title very loosely. If the only part of the AU is that you’re part of that universe, then great!

2. However you go about it, please be respectful of the actors’ and actresses’ families. If you choose to include wives, children, etc., please, please, please don’t be mean. This is about fun and positivity! 

3. I don’t mind if you want to add to or even re-post something you’ve written along these lines before. I can’t promise that I will read allofthethings, though. 

4. I will read and reblog the first part of whatever you enter, and if it ends up being a series, I will link the masterlist when I make the masterlist for this challenge. If you don’t make a masterlist, I’ll link the first part. 

5. Send me an ASK to enter. It’s the easiest way for me to keep track of who I’ve responded to -- oh, and if you’re going to post from a different URL than what your ask comes from, let me know in your ask, pretty please! 

6. Let’s say February 14th (awww, Valentine’s Day!) is the deadline, but I’m super flexible with deadlines, so just let me know if you’re going to be later than that so I can keep on the lookout for your fic/tag. I seriously have had to have so many extensions, and life happens. Zero hard feelings. 

7. To submit, simply post your fic, and tag me in the post. Make sure you tag the challenge at the bottom! Tag/Blacklist: YouAU Take 2. Don’t forget to tag me too! 

Seriously lovelies, this is meant to be something fun with no pressure, and help us all get away from not only the pressures of writing and posting, but from the negativity that’s been a black cloud over everythinggggg lately.

Have fun!

PS: “Writing is hard.” Chuck said it, we’ve all experienced it. If you need prompts or anything to get you moving, let me know! I’ve got thousands stored up on several different Pinterest boards, and I’m happy to share. 

Tagging some peeps who may be interested or who might be willing to signal boost:  @illisea​ @ashleymalfoy​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @ravenesque​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @atc74​   @blacktithe7​ @moonlessnight14​ @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian​ @smoothdogsgirl​  @melbrandes​  @emoryhemsworth​ @deansgirl215​ @calaofnoldor​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @chances-and-miracles​ @sandlee44​ @foxyjwls007​ @deanwanddamons​ @carryonwaywardkansas​ @alleiradayne​ @crashdevlin​

[lil-creatorwritings]

Summer of Smut Writing Challenge July 7: Three’s Company [Leonardo da Vinci, Comte de Saint-Germain]

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Pairing: Leonardo da Vinci x Reader x Comte de Saint-Germain Word Count: 2,670 words Prompt: Strip poker Warning: Pure, unadulterated smut. There is zero plot. Also poly and DP. A/N: Part of @voltage-vixen​ ’s Summer of Smut Writing Challenge. You can check the original post for the rules and prompts if you’d like to join in as well! I know that the deadline for all works have been move to the 20th, but I've moved my personal goalpost to finishing the 15 prompts before the month ends. That's just my choice, simply because I want to engage myself back to writing and I've found that I really enjoyed this challenge. Anyway, don't let the pairing or word count fool you--this is my first time writing a threesome. Now that I've given you that disclaimer, proceed at your own risk! Also, thank you so much to @umbralaperture​ for beta reading for me! Now I'm going to run away and hide myself in a hole! *runs*

---

The downfall of being inherently competitive is that there are times when you bite off more than you can chew. Granted that confidence is a key to seem proficient in something you are not, it's proven ineffective if your audience knows that you are, in fact, not good at the challenge. Even though you can be stubbornly fierce, you do at least know when to admit defeat.

It started off innocently, for the most part. When you came up to the room carrying a tray of freshly brewed tea, the two of them were already in the middle of a game. Placing a full cup in front of everyone, you sat down on one of the chairs and nursed your drink. You reached to grab the table on the book, flipping through the pages to find where you left off. It was a quiet time in the evening and even though you weren't doing anything to each other, you treasured these sorts of moments with them.

As the current round ended with Comte's win, he took a sip of tea before asking. "Would you like to join us in playing?" 

Tilting your book down to meet his gaze, you shook your head. "Me? Oh, no thank you."

The other man laughed, reshuffling the cards in his hands. "Is it because you give everything away from your expression? I bet we'll be able to tell what you're thinking."

Pouting, you playfully kicked Leonardo from underneath the table. "I can be good at it! I just don't want to interrupt your game. Besides, I'm having a lot of fun with my book."

"Well then, how can we get you to play with us for a bit?"

"I know," Leonardo smirked as his hands tapped the deck on the table. "We should make a bet."

Comte gave him a look. "We are not using money, Leonardo."

"Who said it had to be? There are other things we can use as a bet." 

Intrigued, you closed your book. "Okay then, what do you suppose we should use?"

"Clothes."

"So you want to play strip poker." You crossed your legs, resting your arm on your knee. It wasn't that big of a surprise for you--even in modern Japan, you've gone to several mixers that used this game as a means of socialization. Not that you had ever participated in them, but you weren't in the company of strangers today. "What does the winner get?"

Comte poured himself another cup of tea. "Anything they want, as long as it's reasonable to the others. I think that would be appropriate."

That certainly did seem fair, but you realized a big discrepancy as you looked over the two men. First, both of them had way too many layers on compared to you, even if it was just their daily clothes. Second, it would be by pure luck if you managed to win once, let alone win the entire game with your skill or lack thereof. Third, you're sure that they knew this as well, so there's no need to create an enticing incentive for you to join. Not that you needed to hang a win over either of them to ask for anything you want because you knew that they can and would give it to you.

"Well? What do you say?"

Picking the book back up, you shake your head. "You two can play by yourselves."

"Why? Afraid that you're not as good as you think you are?"

You glared at the painter, who had a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I just don't feel like it."

"Now, now, Leonardo. Don't tease her." You thought that Comte was on your side until he continued. "We cannot fault her if she does have a terrible poker face."

It was a bad idea and you knew it from the start. You shouldn't have given in to the obvious bait.

But here you were, holding up 5 cards to your face as you waited for the two men to decide whether to draw again or finally make a bet. Your skirt and shoes had been the first to join the pile of clothes along with a beige overcoat. Leonardo threw his belt in on the second round, which technically was one article of clothing. Still, it was vexing to see them barely undressed while you sat there half-naked.

To your surprise, you had won the round, prompting both men to dispose of another layer of clothing. Despite the burst of satisfaction, something told you that it didn't mean anything in the long run.

The next round ended fairly quickly. Leonardo had already removed his coat, noticing the curious expressions on their face. You chuckled, remembering how their eyes followed your hands while you were unhooking your skirt earlier. In a smooth movement, you slipped your hands up your blouse, fiddling with the ties of your corset as you looked back at them. Their heated gaze sent a dull throb between your legs, finally loosening the piece before pulling it from underneath and letting it fall to the floor.

You had already accepted the fact that you would lose. With that, you decided to put on a show instead, stretching your arms out wide and arching your back just a bit. Neither of them gave away anything save for their eyes, which were drinking up the sight of your exposed torso and breasts pressing up into your blouse. 

"Hm. That's certainly one way to undress." You heard Comte say before you reached for the cards, leaning forward on the table and shuffling them well.

A few minutes later, his vest had soon joined the pile. The painter looked at you expectantly, wondering which one you were going to contribute next. You hooked your fingers in the band of your panties, dragging them down your thighs at a slow pace. As the thin fabric slid further down, you flicked it away with your foot before coyly crossing your legs.

The two men shared a look as you started to shuffle again. And as expected, the round ended with the count's win. As Leonardo pulled his gloves off, you moved to stand up, which caught both of their attention. You had turned your back to the table and sashayed to the bed, knowing full well that they'd be watching you. Lifting the covers, you slid underneath it and took off your blouse before throwing it in the mountain of clothes.

"Cara mia, that's unfair." He teased, leaning back into his chair. "Who's going to be our dealer now?"

"Your dealer has lost, so I don't see any further reason to sit by the table."

Comte gathered the cards, shuffling them mindlessly. "Leonardo. Shall we raise the stakes a bit?"

"What did you have in mind?"

He paused to distribute their hand before looking up at him. "The winner gets to monopolize her tonight."

You sighed softly as your hands started to wander on your body, idly caressing your thighs while watching them. "Won't either of you just call it a draw?"

"There must be a winner, ma chérie. That is the rule."

"Hm. Don't think I'm going to lose to you."

"You'd be mistaken to think that I'd let you win."

As entertaining as it is to watch them fight over you, the growing heat between your legs made you impatient. Settling down on the bed, you closed your eyes and started to touch yourself, fingers gently running along your wet slit. A hand reached up to cup a breast, teasing your nipple until it hardened and gave it a light squeeze. Slipping a finger inside, you pumped it slowly before adding another one. You spread your legs wider, grinding your palm against your throbbing clit for some friction. You were no longer paying attention to them as you sought after your orgasm, bucking your hips up as you continued to pleasure yourself.

A pressure on your hand made you stop, opening your eyes to meet Leonardo's intense gaze. You whimpered when he moved your hand away, keeping a firm but gentle grip as he licked your fingers. "Such a naughty girl. You couldn't wait for us, could you?"

"I think she deserves a little lesson, doesn't she, Leonardo?" Comte sat by the head of the bed, tossing the blanket away before he helped you up into a sitting position.

"That's certainly something we can agree on."

With his arm around your waist, Comte hoisted you up on his lap as he sat on the edge of the mattress. His lips trailed a line of hot kisses on your neck, making you arch your back while his hand reached down between your legs and teased at your clit. Your wanton moans were swallowed up in a demanding kiss as another pair of hands roamed over your chest and caressed your sides.

As you were reaching to undo Leonardo's pants, he stopped you and pulled away. He chuckled at the baffled look on your face. "I don't think so, cara mia. This is a punishment for you, after all."

He reached past you, hearing the rustle of smooth fabrics together before he undid the count's tie. Comte paused with his ministrations to bring your arms behind you, feeling the silk tie against your skin as it bound them together. Though there was enough slack for you to stay in it comfortably, you couldn't move them around freely anymore.

With a final tug, he asked in a soft voice. "It's not too tight, is it?"

Shaking your head, you felt your heart warming from the affection. "No, it's just right."

"You'll let us know immediately if you need it taken off, alright?"

"Mhn."

Leonardo tipped your chin up to place a kiss on your lips, smiling gently at you. "That's our good girl."

Once again, they busied themselves with your pleasure. The painter settled himself between your legs, coaxing more of your arousal as he eagerly sucked on your clit. You could feel slick fingers teasing at your other hole, gasping when one of them slipped inside and started to slowly thrust, getting used to the sensation as Comte added another one. The tongue thrusting inside your pussy made you clench, your thighs kept apart with a firm grip when you tried to close them. The orgasm had blindsided you, moaning loudly into the room as your body trembled from the sudden rush of your release.

When he moved away, you noticed the slight shine around his mouth and chin. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he licked his lips, the devious look on his face telling you that it was far from over.

Both men were quick to undress, the bed creaking underneath the added weight. Comte placed you back on his lap, only this time you were facing him as he claimed your lips in a hungry kiss. A hand gripped at your waist as you felt something cool being spread on your asshole. The anticipation of what was about to happen made your heart pound with both excitement and nervousness, though this wasn't your first time taking both of them.

"Leo..." You whimpered, leaning forward as he helped to keep you steady.

"Just breathe, cara mia. You're okay."

There wasn't much you could do anymore but follow, taking a deep breath as their combined scents gave you a sense of ease. Leonardo was gentle, pushing slowly while trying to distract you from the initial discomfort by stroking your sensitive nub. The other ran his hand down your back in circles, pressing kisses all over your shoulder. The pain had already subsided by the time he was inside you, replaced with a feverish heat spreading through your body.

"Ready?" He whispered in your ear, to which you could only nod.

Keeping you close, he laid down on the bed with you on top of him. The count leaned forward on his knees, hovering over the both of you as he rested your ankles on his shoulders. He teased his cock along your slit and paused, voice taut with his desire for you. "Bear with me, ma chérie." You tossed your head back as he entered you, moaning loudly and doing your best to relax. Leonardo had let out a groan as well, his hands reaching to cup one of your breasts.

Neither of them moved, giving you time to get accustomed to the fullness. Comte turned his head to press a kiss on your leg. "The two of you make such a beautiful sight together."

"We shouldn't keep her waiting for too long, you know." The painter chuckled in your ear.

"Yes. Shall we bring her to the brink of rapture, then?"

They started slow, eventually falling into a steady pace of pumping in and out of both your holes. One of them would always be inside you while the other pulls out just enough before pushing back in, creating a rhythm that sent you higher to your peak with each thrust. With your arms pinned between you and Leonardo, you were rendered immobile as he caressed your breasts and toyed with your hardened nipples. Comte was scattering kisses from your ankle down to your knee, his thumb grinding circles on your throbbing clit as each of their free hands held onto your waist to keep you from moving.

It was nothing but bliss and all you could do was helplessly indulge in them.

Leonardo nuzzled his face in your neck, leaving kisses below your ear as he murmured. "You like it when we fill you like this, don't you, cara mia?"

"Ahhh, yes, yes...!" you nearly yelled, their ministrations provoking your unabashed response.

"Such an honest answer, ma chérie."

"Please," you rasped, the words escaping you as your head started to blank when they moved faster. "Oh fuck...!"

You could feel something tugging on your arms, realizing that your restraints were now undone. Even if they were a bit sore, you reached out to Comte, wanting to feel him close as well. He was quick to realize your feelings, moving your legs down and hooking them around his waist. Resting his forehead on your unoccupied shoulder, you wrapped an arm around him as you searched for the painter's hand with the other, interlacing your fingers with his as soon as you found him.

The sensation of being stretched by your lovers made you dizzy with need. You heard both men groan when you clenched around their cocks, only to make them slam harder and deeper in you. The increased pressure and tighter circles on your clit made you cry out, arching your back as you surrendered yourself to the immense pleasure. Their thrusts were becoming erratic as your walls clamped tighter with each push until you felt their hot release spill inside you, your intense spasms coaxing out more of their cum and filling you up.

Your shared warmth was a comfort as you waited for your heavy breathing to return to normal. One of them guided you down on the mattress, shivering as they gently eased out of you. Feeling spent and sated, you let out a soft sigh as you closed your eyes for a bit.

As you opened your eyes, it occurred to you that you had fallen asleep. You were still in bed, waiting for your vision to clear as you thought about getting up to fetch yourself some fresh clothes. The argument you had with yourself vanished when you opened your eyes and realized what was going on: your lovers had surrounded you, with Comte lying down in front of you and Leonardo behind you. Each one of them had an arm around your waist as they continued their peaceful slumber, unfazed by everyone's state of undress.

Your chest ached with the love you held for both of them. Smiling to yourself, you closed your eyes and listened to the soft sound of their breathing, the safety of being in their arms lulling you back to sleep.