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#hot damn it was hard to whittle this list down
ghuleh-recs · 4 months
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It was @forlorn-crows birthday like a month ago!! And I fuckin missed it! Jail for Liss. Jail for 1000 years. Better late than never, I guess. Crow is easily one of my favorite ghoul writers and I threw together a greatest hits rec list for the occasion! They are the mastermind behind Mushy May and the verrrry iconic Lake Wife™. On top of being incredibly talented, Crow is always so lovely and kind and supportive of their fellow creatives. Wouldn't it be a lovely (belated) bday gift if you left some comments/kudos on some of these? Maybe even stop by Crow's ko-fi while you're at it!
Lady of the Lake - Rain/Lake Wife™ - E, 11.6k
With all the dark magick flowing through the abbey, he wouldn’t be surprised if some of it leached into the surrounding area. Mountain’s told him all about the various creatures he’s seen on the edges of the forest: dark, shadowy things that live in the corners of one’s vision, flitting between downed trees and swaying ferns. They’re relatively peaceful entities that don’t seem to bother ghouls, humans, or other animals much. But their presence certainly hasn’t gone unnoticed. That same looming magick resides at the bottom of the lake. Something deep and ominous. Something big. Rain can’t make head nor tail of the sentient something that must live down there. He’s felt it most recently in the new beginnings of spring: big waves of living energy reaching out to him, calling to something buried deep in his ribcage. A creature reaching out to their kin. He supposes it could be a byproduct of the changing seasons, the rush of life seeping through the cracks in the thawing ice. But the feeling in his gut tells him it’s something more than that.
First and Fierce Affirming Sight - Mountain & Copia - G, 1.1k
Once in a blue moon he’ll retreat deep into the forest beyond the abbey to give himself a break from his mortal-like form, let that great maw of elemental power unleash and drain itself into the ether. Just once in a great while, to be fully released. Other times, it sneaks up on him like a cloud of darkness, pulling him under slowly. It gives him enough time to stifle it or manage it. If there’s warning signs, there’s time to keep it at bay. But times like these, it comes in the blink of an eye—like a flash of lightning in the middle of the inky-black sky.
Quicksilver - Dewdrop/Rain - T, 1.8k
Sunshine finally gets to braid Dewdrop's hair, but it gives him and Rain ~feelings~. (you have to read the sequel, too.)
And You Know That It Takes Two - Copia/Dewdrop - E, 3.7k
“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?” When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.
and so it goes - Mountain/Rain - E, 1.6k
Rain hums the melody where the piano would play, glancing down at the ghoul curled around him. His shoulders start to shake, and he sniffles into the water ghoul’s shirt—attempting, but failing, to be silent about his tears. Rain stops. “Mountain, love, what’s wrong?” Immediately he shakes his head at the question, whining quietly. “Hey,” Rain urges, petting back his hair. “I’m here for you, can you try to tell me?” Hurts, Mountain pushes into his mind. “Where does it hurt?” Rain asks gently. The earth ghoul pulls back an arm from around his waist, gesturing to his own chest. Rain can see his face screw up, a silent prayer to stop the oncoming sob that threatens to work its way out of his throat. In here, he says. He points weakly to the side of his head too. And here.
Pull Me In Your Waters - Dewdrop/Mist - E, 4.8k
He’s such an innocent, carefree creature—one that has Mist’s fingers itching to touch, to ruin, to defile. Like he’s a mere mortal waiting to be drawn in by her hellish siren’s call. But there’s a budding affection underneath that, too. Call it kin, call it an elemental draw to each other, call it even a mentor-like protection over the fledgling ghoul. Beyond the lust there’s respect, admiration. An urge to simply get to know and raise the ghoul who’s set to take her place. She can’t deny there’s some weird, mothering nature buried deep within the confines of her stoney nature. But it is deep, and right now it’s very much shrouded behind a curtain of curiosity, of hunger.
Compromise - Aeon/Mountain - E, 2.9k
He and Aeon haven’t talked, not really, about where they stand with each other. There hasn’t been time, especially not when he’s constantly plastered to Rain and Swiss’ sides instead. Mountain understands. He does. But the longing for familiarity was too hard to ignore tonight, tugging him to Aeon’s room after a sour night at a local dive bar. or Mountain misses Aether. Who he has is Aeon.
Weigh Your Powers, Tempt The Hours - Aether/Ifrit - E, 2.3k
“You’re so pretty like this, you know that?” Ifrit blushes under his adoring gaze. His shaggy hair falls across his face as he ducks to hide. But Aether’s having none of it, reaching out to guide his head back up with a gentle hand on his chin. “You trust me, right?” “Of course I do. I want—” Ifrit pauses and takes a shaky breath. “Want to be good for you,” he finishes in a small voice, just barely above a whisper. “You’re always good for me, Fritter.” The quintessence ghoul runs the pad of his thumb across the point of his jaw. His voice slips to a lower timbre, slow and rhythmic. “You want to feel good too, don’t you?” Ifrit’s eyes slip closed, body relaxing ever so slightly. “Yeah,” he answers simply, forming the word on his exhale like an unholy confession. “You will. I’ll make sure of it.”
𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!
Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡
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baka-bakeneko · 2 years
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Here’s To Us - Wade Wilson x Fem! Reader [NSFW]
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tags: MDNI, comic version Wade Wilson, voyeurism, shared shower, grinding, dominant Wade Wilson, sub reader, Venus Butterfly, squirting, slow sex, double orgasm, creampie (first of marathon sex series)
word count: 6.3 k
synopsis: Wade's street neighbor needs to use Wade's hot water.
a/n: i refuse to apologize for this.
Wade gave you special access to his apartment once in a blue moon. Mostly for a short list of reasons. One, your water was out and you needed a shower. Two, Wade had left the window open and wanted you to take care of the stray named Bea. Or three, when he was definitely home, trying to relax in his downtime, and wanted some serious company.
And you were surprised you were that type of company. Not that Wilson was intimidating, but you feared that if you looked too much, you’d make him uncomfortable.
But he was a rugged, scarred man from head to toe. And it was hard to take it all in without staring. You didn’t know what it was, but you weren’t trying to be rude, you just wanted to silently trace every divot of his skin with intrigue.
It was as if you were looking closely at a renaissance painting and noticing the cracks in the paint, the hardened bits on the canvas.
Thankfully, this was not that third option today. It was a shower. Your landlord had once again shut off the water in your apartment and was now the hardest to get ahold of. After a long night of fighting, you were grimy and in need of a shower.
Rifling through your bag, you found the spare bronze key detailed with a Hello Kitty key cover and a Golden Girls keychain that read ‘Stay Golden, girl!’
You bit back a low smile, that keychain always giving you a bite of happiness every time you came across it. You wondered if it ever did the same with Wade. You clenched the key in your hand and turned around in the stairwell, leaving your complex to stop at the edge of the sidewalk.
With a double take down the street, you bolted across it and directly into the complex on the opposite side. You wished that you lived right next door to Wilson sometimes; though that’d mean you’d both be shit out of luck with the water.
Taking the stairs two at a time, you rushed to the third floor and stopped in the front of Wilson’s perfectly decorated door. He’d mentioned that he used to practice throwing knives at it, and he recently got into whittling.
You shook your head at the etchings in the door, no doubt that was coming out of his security deposit, and used the key to unlock it. Pushing inside, you shut the door firmly behind you then dropped your bag to the counter.
You grabbed your phone, barely taking in Wilson’s cleaned up studio. There weren’t any pizza boxes on the counter, or any extra beers on top of the fridge. This mission must’ve been a long stay away.
With a shrug, you made your way to Wade’s bathroom and searched for his Bluetooth speaker. The second pairing on your list with how often you were over here now, with how often Wade preferred your taste in music.
Shuffling your playlist, you kicked off your shoes outside of the bathroom then peeled off your shirt and kickboxing shorts in a swift motion. You turned and saw yourself in Wade’s busted mirror, noting the already yellowing skin patch over the back of your shoulder.
You reached for it, feeling at the edges of it with a grimace before leaving it and stripping off your sports bra next.
You turned towards the shower, the curtain already peeled back with the porcelain scrubbed spotless. So he was going to be gone for a real long time.
Damn.
You turned on the old-fashioned knobs for the water, before turning on the middle knob to start the shower head. Peeling off your panties, you stepped into the spray while the music blasted into the room.
You stood under the spray, allowing the water to batter your face and rush down your head to your shoulders; you took the time to stretch your neck and shoulders, then bent to touch your toes.
The hot water felt amazing for your muscles, melting the tension from them. The music helped, each song that came on a natural bop. You slowly swayed your hips to the music before really getting into it, moving slowly to roll your body with the song and mouthing off the lyrics.
It was like being at home after a minute, then five and finally ten before you realized that you hadn’t cleaned up at all. With a snicker to yourself, you searched around Wilson’s shower for a soap bar, then lathered it quickly between your hands. You moved around so quickly, you stopped at a heart-wrenching speed when you noticed someone in the doorway.
“Shit,” you said, reaching for the shower curtain and avoiding Wade’s eyes.
“Sorry,” Wade offered, quickly averting his gaze. “So sorry, that was not an invite. But what’re you doing here, kitten?”
You gulped at his pet name for you; you shrugged further behind the shower curtain, fumbling to crumple it into your soapy hands.
“My water’s out again.”
“Oh,” he stated, looking behind him and leaning back, possibly getting a good sight of his window facing your complex. “You want me to talk to your landlord?”
“No,” you shook your head. “No, it’s okay, really. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked, Wade.”
“You’re fine,” he drew out, pulling himself upright before quickly meeting your eyes. “It’s fine. Just...don’t waste all my hot water.”
You blinked slowly in recognition to his request, then nodded. “In and out, three minutes.”
Wade smirked, leaning further into the doorway. “Now I know you’ve been in here for more than ten.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but your face gave way to your efforts. “How would you know that?”
Wade casually cleared his throat, straightening up and dropping his hands to his grey sweat pockets. “Just...speed it up. This jet lag kicked my ass.”
You opened your mouth to say something else, but Wade reached for the door to shut it.
“I’m done,” you lied, still half-lathered in suds.
“Really?” Wade deadpanned, his browline quirking with a quick once over.
You gulped lowly at the thought of his gaze raking over you, taking in your body shape. You pulled the curtain closer to you, tucking your thigh behind it with a clear of your throat.
“I’m done,” you offered again, reaching for your soiled shirt now resting on the toilet lid. “I’ll get out of your way.”
Wade scoffed and reached for your soiled clothes. “As if you’re getting out of my hair that easily. Rinse off or I’m coming in after you.”
You were taken aback by his teasing, watching as he scooped up all your clothes and walked out of the room with them. He returned shortly after with a dingy red long-sleeve and a pair of boxer shorts.
“They’re clean, I swear,” he promised, bringing the blue-white striped shorts to his scarred nose for a sniff test. “Washed ‘em a month ago.”
You rolled your eyes at him then sheepishly offered your thanks. Wade tilted his head at you then glanced to the shower head.
“I wasn’t kidding, get to rinsing.”
A shock bolted through your body and you pulled the curtain closed to rinse your body off.
“You got thirty seconds,” he warned from the doorway, making your heart race as you thought of everywhere you lathered up. It was more than enough time and if you ended up soapy, that was your own fault.
“Twenty seconds.”
This man’s concept of time moved way faster than yours. Fuck it, it was time for whore’s bath technique. You spun around in slow circles, using your hands to swipe down the rolls of water from your shoulders. It was going to be good enough.
“Eight seconds,” Wade gave as a final warning, his hand already gripping at the edge of the curtain to peel it back.
You were done, all that mattered was getting out. You were going to get out as soon as Wade backed away from the curtain. Your hand reached for the thin veil of plastic and peeled it away to come face to face with Wilson, or moreso Wade Wilson’s pectorals.
They were definitely pillowy, if you ever wondered. But you obviously weren’t as you looked down to get your footing ready, only for your eye to catch onto Wade’s flaccid cock.
You shied away from looking, now bemused by the sight you’d taken in. You shifted to the opposite end of the tub, letting Wilson step into the spray while the remaining water bounced from his skin and onto you.
Wade pushed the curtain away, allowing you easy access out. You dangled a foot out of the tub, ready to dry off, but took a long glance at Wade’s scarred back, parts of his skin torn away to reveal hardened muscle. You hid back a seethe, wondering how painful that must’ve felt everyday with what he did for a living. Whatever that was.
“You wanna get my back?” he asked innocently, acknowledging your stare.
“Sorry,” you muttered under your breath then reached for the soap bar on its designated ledge. “Yeah, I can.”
You lathered the soap in your hands then carefully rested your palms to Wade’s back. Every muscle under your touch seemed to relax, allowing his shoulders to slump forward.
You ran your hands up, crossing over the backs of his shoulders, then down to follow parallel to his spine. You avoided the muscle patches as best you could, meeting your hands at the small of his back and then up again.
Wade groaned at that, bowing his head in the spray with a low ‘thanks’ at your effort.
You nodded, holding your hands into the spray of the water to rinse them. You said nothing, just stood back to watch the suds roll down his etched body. The rivulets caught into the deep scars of his skin, making intricate swirls on his body before falling.
It felt like watching a stained glass window being battered with rain, captivating and time-wasting. Wade glanced over his shoulder at you after a long moment and dared another smirk.
“Like what you see, kitten?”
You tried to speak, but stammered, diverting your eyes from Wade’s tight, scarred back to the floor of the tub. “I’m getting out.”
“No, stay,” he taunted, his tone teetering on genuine as he turned around. “I’ll let you get a look since I saw yours.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, already pushing away the want to look at his front. “I’m good. That was my fault.”
You peeked through one eye and stepped out of the tub, reaching for the boxers Wade set out for you.
You kept your back to him as you pulled them to your waist, rolling the waistband over a couple times to get the desired length for you. Then you went for the shirt, popping your damp head through the hole with your arms to follow.
“You in the mood for some Chinese? I could definitely go for some kung pao.”
You stopped in the doorway and looked back at Wade. “You want me to stay for dinner?”
“Of course,” Wade said with a shrug. “Unless you’re in the mood for Greek, then I’ll kick you out on your ass.”
You smiled, “Chinese food sounds good to me.”
-
You ordered food and sat on Wade’s couch while he showered, taking his sweet time with the remaining hot water. Not that you felt cheapened in the slightest, it was his apartment after all.
Even with the deepest part of you wondering if he liked what he saw or if anything arose in his mind, you stowed all of your emotions aside when the delivery person knocked on the door. You stood up and went for your bag, rifling through its contents to produce money for the food.
Slowly opening the front door, you exchanged the food and money then shut it with your ankle. You set the food on the clean kitchen island, going to untie the first bag as the bathroom door opened and steam billowed out.
“I’m feeling fresher already,” Wade announced, draping his towel over his shoulders while he wore his signature sweatpants low on his scarred hips.
You scrunched your nose. “Those clean or did you miss laundry day?”
Wade walked around you, letting off a little excess heat accumulated from his shower waft onto you. “You think I’d give my last bit of clean clothes to you? And miss that opportunity of you streaking around here?”
You bit back a nervous grin, biting at the inside of your bottom lip. Maybe he did like what he saw.
“I just changed into these off of my flight,” he said, reaching for the second bag and undoing its tie. He reached in, grabbing at the boxes of food then spread them out on the counter.
“How was your trip?” You asked, a trivial question in the scheme of your friendship, or whatever this was. Labels were hard. He only ever knew about your job, only ever knew what you did for extra cash.
That seemed to be how he wanted it.
Wade opened a box of lo mein noodles and selfishly took a large forkful into his mouth to avoid answering, then he raised a finger at the recognition of one of your songs still playing on the speaker.
He hummed, nodding at the song before grabbing your wrist and turning you in a circle. You rolled your eyes at him, following his movements hesitantly eventually falling into place.
Wade chewed his food quickly, swallowed then turned you around again, pulling your back into his chest. His hand raised yours in the air, his fingers slipping down your forearm and bicep then further down your side and finally grabbing your hip.
You swayed slowly in the rhythm, attempting to ignore the hardened feeling of Wade behind you. But he was a presence difficult to ignore.
You hummed at the feeling of his length brushing against your ass, falling into the music as Wade rested his chin to your shoulder.
“You sure know how to pick ‘em,” he offered, his other hand making small circles on your thigh.
You agreed inside, filing yourself tighter to Wade and chasing a feeling you weren’t sure was good. When the song ended, Wade slowly released his hold on you.
Still his chin was rested to your shoulder, lifting to brush his lips to your ear as his nose swiped against your damp hair. You turned your head after Wade’s, wanting to find something to say but your mind going blank.
You quirked a brow before Wade’s hand snaked up your arm, draping it behind his neck; he turned further into you. his lips slowly molding to yours. The salt from the lo mein cut into your mouth as your hand palmed at the nape of his neck.
You warred on pushing him away, that sliver of you wanting to keep this as cordial as possible. But inside, you were melting, your knees feeling like jelly as you gave into your arousal for him.
Fuck, Wade was a good man. A good-looking man despite his hardened exterior. His body was more of a marvel than the average man, there wasn’t anything you could take away from that. Your hand slide across his as it rested on your thigh, drawing his touch further in.
You arched into him, feeling his cock free in his sweatpants. Now you know that dance wasn’t all for nothing either. Why couldn’t you have just gotten your hands on each other sooner?
Wade’s lips parted from yours, trailing across your cheek then to your neck and down before shrugging one of the shoulders of your shirt down.
"Wade, fuck," you exhaled, already exhausted with waiting.
His lips were warm and soft, dragging against your skin and making goosebumps in their wake. You were almost antsy to have more of him, working your hips into his and getting intoxicated from the friction.
"Don't be so impatient," he said with a low snicker against your skin. "I'm trying to woo you, not fuck you in a gas station bathroom."
You threw your head back and laughed at that, folding your hands over his to feel something similar to a hug. Wade drew his lips back and took little sharp bites at your earlobe with his own chuckle to follow.
You gave up that instant, relaxing against Wade and allowing him his moment. Wade tsked against your skin, letting you go and stepping back.
"What're you doing now?" You asked, turning around to face him, chilled from his absence.
Wade stared at you, determined, while he stroked his chin in thought. "Hush, I'm thinking."
You geared yourself to say something but didn't have a moment to think; Wade rushed at you, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up against him.
Your legs crossed around him, his hands holding you steady while your chest pressed to his.
"Shit," you whispered, the sudden lift making your head go afloat.
You draped your arms over Wade's shoulders and leaned in to kiss him again. Wade carried you over to his bed and dropped you onto it, following soon behind with making your body his sole business.
His lips made work of yours, teasing his tongue into your mouth while your stomach rumbled at the hint of food. You stifled down the thought as you raised your legs, parting them for Wade to dip between them.
He rolled his hips against you, pressing right at the seam of his boxers to your clit. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling shooting through your stomach, adding to the warmth and firmness of Wade's chest against yours.
Your hands slid along Wade's shoulders, then up and around the back of his neck as you pulled him in. His tongue lapped against yours, making you submit and follow his lead.
You were aware of everything about Wade then, making out with him like a lousy teenager. His hands at your thighs slipped up under the boxers to grab handfuls of your ass.
He pushed you further into him that way, earning an unwarranted moan from your lips and into his mouth. You felt his lips curl at that, how your knees were clenched at his waist as his crotch was pressed a bit harder to yours.
Wade pulled from your lips and allowed you to breathe, your chest heaving. He rested his hand to your chest, his fingers steady and spread out between your breasts.
"That's so cute, you're so excited," he teased, dragging his hand down your body then back up, slowly pulling your shirt up to reveal your stomach.
The fabric was caught onto his middle and index finger, his ring and pinkie caressing at the underside of your breast.
"I like that. It's been a while since I've seen that," Wade whispered, leaning in and sliding his lips across your stomach. "Since I made someone nervous."
You scoffed at that, but it came out a shaky exhale as Wade's lips rested just below your belly button. His nose circled your navel then trailed a line up, his breath wafting over your skin.
The chill worked up your back, tickled between your shoulders as you curled your toes against his sheets.
“Bullshit,” you muttered, your hands rested just at Wade’s shoulders.
He hummed, smiling against your skin as his hands rested at your waist, peeling your boxers down to kiss at more skin. Your stomach tightened the further he traveled, each warm kiss causing a lick of electricity between your hips.
Your knees braced tighter at Wade’s sides until he readjusted further down on the bed. Suddenly, his nose was rested directly against your mound, his tongue carefully lapping at the top of your slit.
You stifled a swear, squirming under Wade’s tongue; you drew out a low pitch, not knowing what to do with yourself.
Wade sat up on his knees, using his momentum sitting up to strip your boxers from your legs. Wade’s eyes raked up your body, taking in each vulnerable bit of your skin. You wanted to play coy, tucking the edge of his shirt between your legs but enjoyed his raw attention more.
The dark admiration in his eyes made fire alight in your belly, suddenly realizing how wet you were for him.
He took hold of one of your knees, spread your legs apart with one draping over his shoulder as he lie down on his stomach.
“I’m trying not to drool right now,” Wade quipped, his voice stripped down as he pressed his lips to your inside knee. “You good?”
Your brain registered his question and sat up on your elbow, stomach tight while Wade blew soft air against your pussy. You nodded eagerly, your throat dry and unable to form a sentence.
“Fuck yes,” he grinned, kissing at your opposite thigh, dragging his open mouth and tongue to your inside hip. “Tap me if you want out,” he suggested, using his hand to bend your other knee at an angle.
He flattened his tongue to your clit and your ass immediately grinded to the bed. Wade huffed in amusement, drawing a hand around, touching up your thigh and to your waist before slipping under your ass and to the front of your pussy.
Wade circled two fingers before your entrance carefully, gathering your wet and spreading your lips apart. Your breath hitched, finding an edge to twitch your hips in effort to get more.
He pulled back again, “There you are, being impatient again.”
Your brows furrowed at his leaving, your clit twitching at the cool air left behind. He smiled, glancing down at your pussy as his two fingers slid into you. Your legs threatened to clamp shut but Wade’s body held them open; he returned between your legs and resumed his tongue on your clit.
Your head flopped back to the bed at the combination of sensations. Wade’s free hand pressed on the inside of your thigh, pushing it further open before gripping at your inside hip.
You felt vulnerable, spread open like that to Wade's entire apartment. To Wade. You tried to shut your eyes, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle your noise for the sake of his neighbors.
"That's not fair," Wade hungrily muttered against your clit, taking a second away from it to grab your elbow. "I put in this work to hear you."
That caused more wet to gush from you, feeling Wade's fingers curl and brush his fingers against your tight walls. He tapped when he found what he was looking for, causing another bolt to rush straight up to your clit which he received with a lap of his tongue.
He was giving himself morse code, using your body as the vessel. You couldn't help the pitchy whine that escaped you then, with Wade peeling back the hood of your clit with his tongue and suctioning his lips around the nub.
"Shitshitshitshit," you metered out, trying to breathe but hold onto the air for fear it'd escape as noises. You raised up on your elbow again and stared down at him, trying to hold your knuckles away from your lips.
He unlatched from you, staring from under the shadow of his browline. "I can't hear you, kitten. You're gonna have to be louder."
You shook your head, already fighting the losing battle as his fingers regularly tapped and pumped in you. Your head dropped back, staring at the ceiling while you tried to catch your breath in a few pants.
Wade took that as opportunity to return to your clit, sucking a bit firmer and showing off with his tongue. Your toes curled, your knees trying to shift off of Wade and out of his grasp, but he held tight.
"Aww honey, we ain't even halfway done yet," he cooed, unlatching from your clit with a loud smack.
The string of his saliva mixed with your wet trailed to the hood of your clit, making you melt at the sight.
"I call this one the Wilson stamp of approval," he taunted, resuming his place at the helm of your pussy.
He suctioned his lips again, this time slowing his movement while his fingers pumped a bit harder.
A moan finally escaped your lips, followed by a seethe between your teeth. "Wade, Wade I--"
Your hand reached for Wade's shoulder though you couldn't reach it; you opted to touch at the top of his head, ready to tap out.
That was until he started using his tongue to sign his name.
W-A-D-E...by the end of his first name, your legs were officially shaking. The fingers were definitely not helping the situation.
W-I-N...He was spelling his full name? You were putty now, your hand at his head only holding him there while he slowly sealed your fate.
S-T-O-N....your eyes were twitching, your body clenched hard on the precipice of something so tortuous and euphoric.
W-I...he drew his tongue in a long, slow swoop down, meeting a tap of his fingers to dot his 'I'.
You were done for. Your breath was now a full-blown pant, your entire body sweaty from holding out. Your pitch heightened with each pump of his fingers, his warm mouth only driving you home.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck..." you worked up, allowing yourself to actually make noise.
Wade's name spat from your lips, pushing his head just a little harder as you finally came, your body in shakes while you rode out the galvanic lashes across your back, between your thighs and up your stomach to your fast-beating heart.
You were so overcome with the pleasure, your pussy forced Wade's fingers out of you and you were wracked with a newer feeling that tightened your stomach to release.
Wade pulled away in a split second, his chin splashed with your juices, while he was in awe of your newfound...technique.
You caught your breath, staring at the ceiling while you folded your arm over your eyes. Your thighs were now wetter than before, your clit now throbbing.
"Hello waterworks," Wade teased, leaning over to kiss at your stomach again. "I wish I'd known that sooner, I'd have saved it for later."
He made his way back up your body, trailing softer pecks against your skin. Wade pressed his cock in his sweatpants against your mess of a pussy, earning a roll of your hips.
His hands were on their way to slipping up your shirt, eager to undress you, but he sat away to meet your eyes.
"You wanna keep going?" he asked, now nuzzling against the side of your neck.
You stared into Wade's eyes, then flicked your gaze to his puffy pink lips.
"Fuck yes," you nodded, meeting his gaze again and grabbing at the back of his neck.
You pulled him into a kiss, turning him onto his side while you tried to reach for his sweats. Wade chuckled against you, assisting with the shedding of his pants before turning on his back.
He held you over his waist, kicking off the ankles of his sweatpants.
You sat back from Wade to get a full look of his hard cock. It looked like the rest of him, but a bit more preserved.
You reached for his cock at the same time he reached to peel off your shirt; you allowed him to pull it off of you, his hands massaging at your breasts as you tossed the shirt off the bed.
You bent and took grip of his cock, leaning in to lick. He was already leaking pre-cum from his reddened tip, no doubt warming you inside. You had done that to him.
"Uh, babe, you don't have to do that," Wade tried, the confidence in his tone dipping.
"Oh, you don't want me to?" You asked, dragging your tongue along his cock, licking a stripe along the underside.
"I--fuck," he swore, dropping his head back with a deep exhale. He raised his head with a low suck of air between his teeth.
Wade reached to touch at the back of your neck, over your shoulder, then further before taking a tender handful of your ass in his hand.
You hummed at his touch, giving him a slow stroke.
"So," You smiled, resting his tip to your lips.
You kissed at it, your lips curling to take him in. "Do you want me to?"
Wade pulled back, staring down at you as you stroked him again. He pulled his scarred bottom lip between his teeth, not finding the words but nodding.
You slowly took him in your mouth, slipping some of your spit down his length. You slicked it with your hand, pulling more of his cock into your mouth.
Wade folded his hand to his chest, turning his nails in. You could tell, by him holding back, how eager he was.
The thought made your pussy flutter, thinking of Wade going hard. But first you wanted to reward him for eating you out so well.
The tang of his pre-cum livened your saliva, hollowing your cheeks to suck him a bit firmer. Wade's hand roamed up to his mouth, ready to stifle himself but you reached out with your free hand to clasp his elbow.
He told you, now you were throwing it right back at him. Wade grit his teeth before a strained noise escaped between them, a choked gasp before he seethed so verbally you were almost concerned.
"Fuck, okay, okay, I can't take this," Wade grit, reaching to gently pull you off of him. He kissed tenderly at your sloppy lips, puffed out and wet from spit. "You do wonders to me, kitten but I need to be inside you. Can I please be inside you, now?"
He crawled, switching up your positions again so your head almost dangled over the edge of the foot of the bed.
You followed his direction, if only to see Wade from an entirely new angle. Finally shedding the ankles of his sweatpants, he draped himself over you.
His cock touched your inner thigh, sending a warm shockwave right to your core. Your chest rose and fell in anticipation, your breathing shallowing as you met Wade's gaze.
His eyes were half-mast, inches from you, and waiting for the okay. The enthusiastic consent.
You grinned at him, tilting your chin up to peck his lips. "I wanted to suck you off."
"We got time for that," Wade whispered, nudging his nose to yours. "Later."
Your hands brushed around his broad shoulders, down to his waist before bucking his hips against you. "How long can we keep going?"
"At least all night," Wade said, taking your lips with his. "I'll take a week, if you wanna stay."
His mouth dipped to your neck with a peck. "A month if I really take my time."
Wade kissed further, leaving his warmth to dissipate in his wake. You tilted your head at the bathroom, the speaker finally shutting off.
Wade followed your diverted attention, his fingers slipping down your thigh before petting softly at your clit.
"Three months if you get distracted often, six months if I'm gone for too long..."
Wade made his way back up to you, working his best at your clit and earning an eager flex from your pussy.
"Let's just chalk it up to a year for good measure," Wade husked against your lips. "That sound good to you?"
Between the way he talked to you and how he touched you, you were feeling more eager for Wade to actually fuck you.
"Yes, so stop wasting time now." You grinned against him, edging up on your elbow to curve your body against his. "Fuck me, please."
Wade's eyes lit up, kissing you hard at the same time of his hand sliding up to your hip. He held you tenderly, angling your hips up while your legs spread further.
He guided his cock into you slowly, driving a long, thirsty pant from your mouth before his.
"God fuck, Wade." Your hand rested at his neck, your thumb rubbing against the lobe of his ear.
Your forehead rested to his, glancing down between your bodies to see his cock sink into you. Your hold tightened, feeling his tip caress your g-spot.
He spared a cocky chuckle against your lips, "I know, kitten. I call it the Tardis, it's bigger when inside."
You exhaled in his direction, noting his shitty play on words and rolling your hips further to ease him more.
"Fuck, call me that again," you groaned, Wade's cock finally reaching the hilt.
Wade leaned into you, pressing your back to the bed and raising your leg around his waist.
"Kitten," Wade drew out, taking a moment to revel in the soft, wet pulse of your pussy. "Oh baby, that pussy feels as good as it tastes."
Your eyes rolled at that, rutting against the mattress before rolling up at Wade. The minimal movement you felt with the tip of his cock grazing the hot inner core of your pussy.
He managed to pull out a couple inches, easing himself back in with a deep hiss.
"I wish I could fuck you like I hate you," he whispered, pulling back out and running his hands down your legs before crossing both of them around his waist.
Wade took grip of your hip and pulled you up in his lap. He crossed an arm at the small of your back and used his tender strength to ease you up on his cock, then back down again.
Every sink back down, you felt a new wave of pleasure roll through you. You tried to meet his upward thrusts with cants of your hips but his hand stopped you.
"Take your time, baby. I wanna savor this," he whispered, raking his eyes down your body from your breasts to your mound pressed to his.
Your hands felt over his skin, your breath catching on his words. "Me too."
Wade hummed, flicking his gaze to meet yours; his eyes were fueled with a carnal hunger, leaning in to rest his chin between your breasts.
He turned his head, resting his ear to your chest while he huffed hot air against your nipple. You crossed an arm behind his shoulders to hold him there, following his steady thrusts with deep sighs.
Wade defied your expectations, making every touch personal and each thrust targeted to a pleasant experience.
You slowly came undone in his lap, draping your body over him as you were halfway to an explosive end.
Your arms crossed behind Wade's neck, leaning your forehead against his as his hands rocked your hips forward and back on his cock.
"Little Wade's gonna be all wrinkled when he's done in you," Wade muttered.
You scrunched your nose at him, wanting to smile but feeling the heat in your cheeks kept you strained.
"I'll make your cock a part of me," you whimpered as his thumb crossed to touch your clit.
You clenched then, moaning louder in his face.
"That's it, kitten. Make it your own." He held his breath, letting you squeeze his cock with your fluttering walls.
Slowly, your orgasm built from there; each thrust driving you further until you were coming on Wade's cock, tightening your hold on it while your clit pulsed in response.
"Wade," you heaved.
It was tight again, the new sensation returning with you wetting Wade's thighs and the mattress.
"Baby," Wade grit, stopping the rocking of your hips and letting you edge him towards release.
You felt his cock twitch inside you, making you flutter again. Wade dropped his head to your shoulder, a choking moan stuttering from his lips.
Your real name, not a nickname. You gasped, hummed in response as your arms folded against his back to hold him close.
Your fingers swirled against the back of his head, swaying on his waist as come spurt into you, dousing the inner fire Wade caused.
But that wasn't enough to sate you. You two stayed molded together in the center of the bed, catching your breath while soft noises escaped you both.
Wade was the first to part from you, pulling out gently and tossing you off of him. He climbed off of the bed, bent to grab his towel and threw it over his shoulder at you.
"Stay there," Wade said, streaking over to the kitchen island to retrieve the boxes of Chinese food.
You grinned at him, flopping back onto the bed and wiggling your butt over the towel to keep the remainder of Wade's bed clean.
"Kung pao, kitten?" Wade offered, kneeling onto the bed and setting the boxes precariously on the comforter.
You nodded, staring dreamily at Wade; he moved over to you, reaching for the towel to clean up the cum that was easing out of you.
"I'm starving," you added, turning your torso on your side. You reached for the box of lo mein, tilting your chin up to beg a peck from Wade. "Thanks babe."
Wade slowly broke into a smile, leaning after your lips to get another. "Call me that all the time."
You hummed, going for the chopsticks attached to the side of your food. Wade shifted onto the bed, crossing his leg and taking his box of kung pao with stealing the fork from your lo mein.
He opened the box and stabbed at the biggest piece, bringing it to his lips before stopping.
Wade watched as you picked up a sliver of broccoli intertwined with noodles and held his fork out. You quirked a brow at him, tilting your head before tapping your chopsticks to his fork.
"To a year of us," Wade smiled. "Hopefully more."
--------------------------------------------
(y'all remember when YY did a full seven minutes in heaven with several different anime characters and it dragged on for a bit? that's this fic for me. anything I'll want to write for others, I'll try it out with my wade wilson 😝)
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flutteringphalanges · 4 years
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             Night of the Living Dead (And Then Some)
Summary: It’s 1897 and the world as we know it has become overrun by zombies. An unlikely pair, a former nun by the name of Agatha Van Helsing, and a bloodthirsty vampire, Count Dracula, have formed an alliance in the hopes of surviving this debacle. Can the two learn to coexist or will they end up as just another mindless cog in life’s maniacal wheel?
Ship: Dragatha
Rating: M
Chapters: 1/2
Read on FFN and AO3
A/N:  An odd two part one shot that came to my mind. I wanted to do something Halloween-ish. I guess in a way this is a parody because it is Dracula and there are also zombies?! Anyway, hope you like hope it turned out! -Jen
                                                    Part One
Surprisingly, he hadn’t taken notice of the damn thing until her arrow nearly took him out. Dracula watched as the undead beast faltered briefly before falling still on the ground. Right in the center of the forehead. She was getting good. Perhaps too good. Nostrils flaring slightly, he rounded about to face her.
“That could’ve easily hit me.” He attempted to argue as Agatha strode forward to pluck her prized arrow from the corpse. “What if I had moved just a bit? That weapon of yours could’ve struck my heart.” 
“And then I would have one less problem on my hands.” She replied simply, not so much as giving him the benefit of a look. “I knew what I was doing. If it hadn’t been for me, it would’ve gotten you and Lord knows what would happen if you were to get bit. There aren’t exactly many vampires about that we’ve seen cases of.”
“Must you bring God into this?” Dracula sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What do you want me to say, Agatha? Thank you?”
“That would be rather nice.” She sighed, cleaning off the grimy arrow. “But I have a feeling that I’m not going to get such a response from you. You are, as one might claim, a bit pig-head.”
“Pig headed?!” The vampire let out a humorless laugh. “Pig headed?! Why how your insults have grown since our first encounter, Agatha. If anyone is pig headed, it’s you for insisting we go to Brasov--which, I’ll inform you, was very overrun!” 
“Everywhere is overrun, Dracula.” The former nun sighed, finally turning to look at the man. “Romania, Holland...it’s like a cesspit of flesh eating monsters that, well…” She paused for a moment. “Make you seem like a mere mosquito.” 
The vampire’s eyes narrowed as the woman tossed her bow over her shoulder. Sometimes a small part of him felt the urge to end her right there. It would be so easy. But the bigger part refrained from that. Perhaps if he could read her mind at this very moment, she too felt the same way. Bickering was always better than dead. It was a good reminder to them both. 
“Come on.” Agatha’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “It’ll be daylight soon and the last thing I need is for you to burn into a crisp.”
“If I’m not mistaken, I could’ve sworn you said  you’d have one less problem without me.” Dracula countered with a smirk. 
“The idea is becoming more tempting.” The woman replied with a huff. “Now come on, there is no telling what awaits us.” She gave a nod with her head. “This way then.” 
The memory was still very vivid in his mind as he was sure it was in Agatha’s. The night he slaughtered every nun in St. Mary’s Convent but her. How the woman gave up her freedom, her life without a second thought in order to save meek, little Mina Murray. He’d had plans for Agatha. Devilish desires involving her blood. And in a way, perhaps she thought that somehow she could take advantage of him. Oh how the fates change when Death knocks at your door. A new side of unrest that he hadn’t seen in his several centuries of life. 
“I don’t know about you, but I am quite parched.” Dracula said, breaking the long silence. “I haven’t had a human since...well...does tasting you count?” “You’ve survived years without drinking, I’m sure you can continue on just fine.” Agatha said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been drinking river water and consuming squirrels and you don’t see me complaining. You don’t have to worry about dysentery.” 
“I suppose having you become ill and me carrying for you would put a damper on our little excursion.” He smiled when he saw the glare on Agatha’s face. “What do you suppose would happen if I were bit? If I were to become “undead” undead? Would it reverse the process? Would I be human again? Or would I be a raging animal the likes of which this world has never seen?”
“I’d prefer not to think about either of us getting bit.” The former nun expressed. “We’ve seen what happens. How they turn. It isn’t pleasant.” There was a brief pause before she added. “...If I were to be bitten, I would highly appreciate if you would kill--”
Dracula stopped in his tracks and turned to face his partner. “Your death--at least in the way you are proposing it, isn’t at the top of my list.” No, losing her in that matter was not certain. “You will remain alive, Agatha...at least until I deem it otherwise.” 
“Your version of being undead is only slightly less repulsive.” Agatha exclaimed, shaking her head. “Now hurry along, we’re losing nighttime.” 
“Always so eager and demanding.” The vampire tutted with a smirk. “I have yet to decide exactly how I feel about that with you.” 
The former nun merely rolled her eyes once more, a small smile gracing her features. “My complexity is one of my more charming qualities.” Her gaze flashed up to the full moon. “Perhaps there will come a day where you decide. Or not.” Agatha’s attention turned to the vampire, a look of amusement crossing her face. “And maybe, if you are lucky, I’ll look forward to your answer.” 
“Perhaps.” The Count agreed. “Until then, it seems we are left to put up with each other.” 
A low growl came from within the bushes nearby. Agatha and Dracula turned to see a creature stumbling out from the brush. His skin, just like his clothing, dangled in rags as he hobbled over to the two. Without so much as a second thought, the vampire produced his treasure saber and brought it swiftly through the zombie’s head. Even after centuries of going untouched. Years of battle it’d been in. The Count’s weapon of choice was rather practical--even if it wasn’t as secretly impressive as Agatha’s bow.
“A clean hit.” The former nun noted. “You’re improving.”
Dracula let out a laugh. “As if you know anything about true combat.”
“I was raised by Abraham Van Helsing.” She countered, folding her arms. “And I know you well enough to know that my grandfather was quite skilled.”
“He was no warlord.” Dracula commented, cocking one of his brows. “Now, while I’d love to have a friendly duel with you, I’d rather not run into any more of our acquaintance’s friends. As you were saying, we are losing time. Best keep moving.” 
And Agatha was not one to argue with that. 
                                                       XXX
Cold. Dark. Musky. The dilapidated hunting shed they’d come across at least didn’t stream a single beam of light in. Agatha didn’t know why she agreed to this. Her clothes being used as a means to cover the floor. Protect her from splinters. As Dracula’s pale, naked body moved against her’s, the only warmth she felt was from his cape underneath her bottom. Fucking the vampire was hot in the word sense, but icy from his touch.
“Just a nibble…” He purred into her ear, teeth lightly grazing her earlobe. “It won’t hurt.”
“I said...no to biting…” Agatha panted, her back arching as the pad to one of his thumbs ran across her hard nipple. “Rules.” “Rules are for sheep and conformists.” Dracula growled, his hand sliding down to just barely rest on her groin. He smiled as she stiffened knowing she was throbbing deep inside. Aching for him. “Last time I checked you were far from that, Agatha.” 
“If you can’t control yourself, then I am more than happy to stop.” She offered, earning her a dark glare. She knew he was already hard. Cock pressed against her inner thigh. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this debate during sex and it wouldn’t be the last. “I’m not your bottle of wine, Count Dracula. No biting or no sex.” 
“You are a temptress.” He grumbled, his mouth set in a look of displeasure. “A tease.”
“I am merely the apple on the tree in The Garden of Eden and you are both Eve and the snake. You are your worst enemy.” She chuckled at her own analogy knowing well enough that her comparison to religion was not looked kindly upon by the vampire. “Isn’t my touch enough?”
She let her fingers travel down to where his cock rested against her. Dracula had been the first and only man she’d ever been with. Every sexual experience had been with him. And despite what she at first thought it’d be like, she loved it. Craved it. Especially when she whittled him down to his last nerve. Agatha gingerly touched his head, feeling the droplets weep from their prison. Over four centuries old and with just a few decades herself, she could still make him squirm. 
“With you, nothing is ever enough.” He said through a breathy whisper. “Never. Never. Ever.” And without a warning, he pushed a finger deep inside Agatha causing her to yelp with surprise. So wet. Two could play at that game. “There is a vein that runs down the length of your inner thigh that is particularly delightful.” Dracula explained, kissing the former nun hard. “It would be nice for the both of us.” 
“You’re a pig.” Agatha gasped as the vampire touched her sensitive spot. There were stars and her vision blurred. Dracula seemed to realize this too and probed the area thoughtfully. She struggled to speak. “Stop it!” Don’t stop. Keep going. Faster. “I...I could...scream…”
“Worried about the undead in a time like this?” Dracula snorted. “My dearest Agatha, I believe you could shout as loudly as you desired and no one would hear. And I quite like that idea.” He could feel her hand grip tighter around his cock as if in response. It took everything in him to hold it together. “If you won’t give me your blood, at least let me hear you cry out my name. You owe me that much.” 
Agatha gazed up at him with fury, but lustful blue eyes. He was winning this one. She hated when that happened. Though they were still shrouded in darkness, the former nun could still make out the glint of his smile as her hand released him and he positioned himself at her entrance. She bit down hard on her lower lip. Not because she anticipated the pain. No. She anticipated the pleasure and what was to come. 
Dracula was rather unpredictable when it came to his part in sex. He could be soft, almost caring and considerate. Loving. Or he could fuck so hard that Agatha’s head was left spinning and she had bruises the next day. And if she were to be quite frank, she didn’t have a favorite. The vampire was always so good. So damn fantastic that with every thrust Agatha felt herself shaking deep from within her very core. Part of her wondered if there was a possibility she could become pregnant. It hadn’t happened yet, and they’d had quite a lot of sex. Still, it was always on the forefront of her mind when his seed spilled inside her. 
“Say my name.”
The commanding voice pulled her from her thoughts and Agatha was dragged from the whimsical land of euphoria and to the wooden, shed floor. Dracula leaned over her, his lips curved into a smile. The former nun reached out and wound an arm around his neck to steady herself. She knew that he had her. He always did. But it helped. 
“Say mine first.” 
The words escaped out as a moan which did not help Agatha’s case. She was growing close to her climax, and Dracula could tell. His thrusts began to quicken, deepen as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. Then without thinking, she bit down on the vampire’s skin. That immediately stopped the man in his tracks. 
“Did you just...bite me?” He asked breathlessly, grinning widely. “Oh, Agatha…”
There were no marks. Of course there wouldn’t be. But she was so caught up in the moment. Suddenly, it dawned on her as they lay there still in the throes of passion. A silly little thought that made her smile too. 
“You.” She gasped out. “You said my name.”
“What?” Dracula interjected. “But I...that doesn’t count…”
“Still said it…” Agatha smirked, chest rising and following. “I win.” 
“Oh, we will see about that.” The vampire chuckled darkly. “I’m just getting started.” 
                                                   XXX
Though he’d said her name, Agatha had finished first. Twice even before Dracula met his limit. They fell back on their makeshift bed of clothing that they’d be putting on later. Her head resting on his chest, the woman watched the door quietly. Though she felt sleepy as the adrenaline rush began to fade, a part of her wanted to stay awake. But she knew how important it was to remain diligent. Especially at night. 
“Romania has fallen to whatever caused this plague.” Dracula said softly. “And we don’t know where else it has stretched. Perhaps there's a chance it’s only here.”
“And Holland.” Agatha reminded solemnly. “We’ve been roaming around aimlessly. Seen less and less humans.” She was silent for a moment before she craned her head up to meet his stare. “I do realize how it affects you.”
His fingers ran down the base of her skull and followed the path of her spine. She closed her eyes as he stroked her back. It was soothing, though the conversation at hand was not. If humans were going to become like an endangered species, then what of Dracula? After everything she was taught. Everything she’d seen. Agatha knew deep down her feelings for the vampire weren’t right. But even deeper down she didn’t care. Not in the least bit. 
“I have a proposition.” Dracula said after a moment’s thought. “And I have thought about this quite a bit. Much longer than this disease has been going on and much, much longer than my meeting you.” 
Agatha sat up from where she lay. “What might that be?”
“England.” Dracula said simply, sitting up as well. “Where we’d go in England, it’d be more advanced than the villages we’ve gone to. Perhaps the virus isn’t there or even better, they have a cure. It is better than nothing.” 
“England.” Agatha repeated as if she heard him right. “But we don’t even have a ship. That’s at least a few weeks' sail from the coast to the bay. How do you expect us to get there?” The expression on his face said it all. “...Is there no other way?” Not telling him no. Not forbidding him. It was as if in desperation she was accepting of the terms. “Is it the only way to be done?”
“Blood is lives, Agatha.” Dracula said, expression still. “Information. If we want to get across then I’m going to need the blood of someone who understands sailing among other things. Someone healthy--or at least not riddled with disease.” He touched her hand, surprised she didn’t pull away. “I’ll take only what I need.” The Count promised. 
“And what if there are no survivors at the port?” The former nun whispered. “What if they’ve all turned?”
“Then we keep going.” The vampire sighed, leaning back. “You should get some rest. It’ll be a long journey to the port if memory serves correct. I’ll take watch.”
“You took the first watch last time.” Agatha countered, sitting up straighter. “And if you know where we are going, then you should be the one with the clear mind.” Dracula opened his mouth to interject, but she continued. “I’ll be fine. Trust me. I’ll wake you up in a few hours. Besides, I am considerably more accurate with killing the creatures than you are with that ridiculous saber. You needn’t be so close with a bow.”
“Ah, you say that now but wait until those flimsy things split in two and your string breaks. Then you’ll be wishing you were brandishing reliable steel.” Dracula chortled. “Honestly, of all the weapons to choose from…”
“Go to sleep you warmonger.” Agatha snorted, resting a hand on his head as he lowered himself down. “There will be other times to debate weapons. Get some rest.” 
“Wake me if anything happens.” The vampire said with sudden alertness. “I am not playing, Agatha. At any immediate threat of danger, you must wake me up. Even if the sun has yet to set.” 
“You have my word.” The woman promised as the Count’s body relaxed. “Sleep.”
                                                    XXX
Agatha didn’t wake Dracula up after a few hours. Instead, when she was sure the sun was setting just enough as to not be so bright, she covered the vampire’s body as not to expose it and slipped outside. She inhaled deeply, enjoying what little light was left. She missed the day--though she kept that knowledge from Dracula. It was harder at night. Finding food. Water. But the few times she could escape. Sneak out without him worrying--those were good times. 
Thunk!
The partridge didn’t even see the arrow before it pierced straight through its body. It was an instant kill, one Agatha wished for every living thing she killed--maybe, if she thought hard about it, she’d feel the same about the undead. Picking up the decent sized fowl, she couldn’t help but admire it. After a good plucking and cooking, this would last her a few days. Especially if she could come across some salt and preserve it. Now that would be true luck. 
As Agatha walked over to what had perhaps once been a sort of fire pit, she took a seat down in the ground. Yank off handfuls of feathers, her mind kept wandering back to Dracula. His own need for food. Something he hadn’t been as fortunate to get. And maybe he deserved it. After all of the evil he caused, maybe this was fate’s punishment. But Agatha’s judgement, though questionable, began to consider something that maybe was pushing the bounds of her sanity even more.
Abandoning the bird for the time being, she made her way back into their temporary housing. Dracula was still fast asleep--he was odd like that, how deeply or not his slumbering was. Retrieving one of the jars she used for water, she returned outside. There truly was no means to prepare her hand for what she planned. Nothing to clean it with--she was out of water. But taking her arrow, the blood from the bird now smeared down her pant’s leg, she sliced her palm wide open and held it over the jar. 
It burned. Ached. Maybe she’d gone too far. Too deep. And as her blood flowed, she half expected Dracula to be roused from his sleep and attack her simply because he was in such dire need of the crimson fluid. But instead, everything was still silent. She bit her lip, her eyes pricked with tears as the bleeding thankfully began to stop on its own. A good sign that maybe she had injured herself too horribly. Careful not to spill a drop, she tore off a piece of her sleeve and bound her cut hand.
If there was to be a good deed done, this would certainly qualify for Agatha. That was, at least for today. 
                                                     XXX
“Well out of all outcomes, I certainly didn’t expect this!”
Agatha’s nostrils flared as Dracula, though his eyes burned that frightening shade of black with hunger, did not take the jar immediately from her. Instead, he stared at her hand looking equally as upset. When he reached out to take it, she yanked it back almost tempted to spill the blood all over the floor. 
“Well out of all the outcomes, Agatha, I can’t say I expected you to slice your hand open for me!” He tried to grab for it again, this time managing to catch her wrist. “Let me see it. Did you even try to clean it?” 
“Why can’t you just drink the blood?” Agatha sighed as he studied the wound. “I was trying to be nice. You talk about being oh so thirsty all of the time and craving me during sex. Well, this is what you want, yes? A true taste of me?”
“Not when it involves you injuring yourself!” The Count let out a dramatic huff. “You’re lucky this isn’t too terribly deep. As I recall, you need both hands for your weapon. We’ll have to watch it and make sure it doesn’t get infected.” The vampire shook his head. “And you went behind my back and took my sleep shift.” 
“I was enjoying the daylight!” Agatha hissed, now getting annoyed. “And I caught myself something to eat! I didn’t have to rely on someone else! Not to mention be appreciative of it!” She slid the jar over, watching Dracula’s Adam's apple bob as he swallowed the liquid whishing within. 
Then, without another word, Dracula lifted up the cup and gulped down the contents in less than a second. When he set it down, his eyes fixed on Agatha and a chill ran down her spine. Cold. Hungry. Lack of recognition. She could hear the vampire’s breathing becoming heavier as he moved closer. Was this it then? Had she given him a wine tasting that led to the draining of the whole bottle. 
“D...Dracula?”
Her voice was soft, shaking as she scooted backwards. She looked around the room for any sort of weapon in arm’s reach. Conveniently, his saber was on the opposite wall to her and the bow and arrows were out of sight. Agatha swallowed and tried to remain calm. If this was truly the end, she’d rather it’d be by his doing than that of one of those creatures. Instinctively her eyes closed as he loomed over her, the former nun waiting for his attack when a pair of arms pulled her in. 
“I’m sorry.” His voice was gruff, breathing more labored than intense. “I’m okay…” 
Agatha looked up only to come face to face with Dracula. She could see her own blood smeared across his lips, smelled it's strange rusty scent. How that was appetizing to the vampire, she did not know. 
“I thought…” She began, quite unsure what to say. “After you drank my blood, I thought that you would…” 
“Given our current circumstances, my ability to remain in control might be a little rustier than I thought.” He gave her a small smirk. “I suppose it was a good thing that I didn’t bite you during sex. Could’ve led to a less than pleasurable end.” He was silent for a moment. “Thank you. For your blood. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” Agatha said simply. “I wanted to.”
“And I must say, you are quite gifted with your weapon abilities.” The vampire said with a small smile. “Abraham, though we had our...differences...trained you well. Though, I have to admit you were pretty talented with that Pattern 1853 Enfield of his. Where did it come across a rifle-musket like that? Couldn’t have been easy, especially due to the legality of it.”
“I think we should make a new rule now that you’ve consumed by blood.” Agatha said, folding her arms over her chest. “You don’t bring up any details you’ve received from my blood--unless, of course, I offer them up in conversation.”
“Pity.” Dracula said, letting out a fake, long sigh. “I have so many.” 
“You should have thought about that beforehand.” The former nun exclaimed. “Questions that go unanswered can be such a bother.”
“Like an ex nun wielding a gun better than the average soldier.” The vampire replied, with a small, lopsided grin. 
“Careful.” Agatha warned. “I might’ve not had practice in a few years, but I am rather sure that if I were to pick up a said rifle of my choice, my aim would be fairly decent.” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “You should finish dressing. The sun has set enough for us to leave.”
Though she knew that their decision was the right one, part of Agatha didn’t want to leave the shack. Despite how messy and unkempt it was, it had proven to be safe. But staying anywhere too long, they had learned, didn’t always end up so. The former nun exhaled and glanced towards the rotting door and tried to push past what horrors awaited them. 
                                                     XXX
“La naiba!” Dracula cursed in his native tongue as he peered over the hill. “Trebuie să glumești…” 
“Maybe speak in English?” Agatha said from his side. “Ik spreek een klein beetje Nederland.” She hoped that her attempt at light humor would cause him to smile, but the serious expression did not leave his face. “What is it?” 
“A horde.” He hissed under his breath. “By the main entrance into the shipyard.” 
“Can you tell how many?” She replied, straining her eyes. Agatha could see movement from down below, but not much else. “...Do you think there is anyone even alive?” 
“At least ten.” Dracula answered, trying to hide the defeat in his tone. “And I don’t know. Not with a group like that lurking about. And who knows how many are separated from the main herd? We could try to kill them and then look around.” He turned to meet Agatha’s stare. “I am far as one can be from a man of prayer and I know you are unique in your beliefs, but we could really use one of your mystique rituals...without a cross would be appreciated.” His attempt at a failed joke. 
“We’ve come all this way.” Agatha said, moving to grab her bow. “We might as well try.” A small grin flickered across her features. “I should’ve taken the gun from my grandfather. My brother never learned to shoot anyway.” 
Together, as quietly as they could, Dracula and Agatha slid down the hill. As they moved towards the horde, other zombies began to amble out from abandoned buildings. Their moves were quick, swift in killing the creatures before they could alert the others. When they drew nearer, the vampire grabbed the former nun by the forearm and pulled her in close. 
“Fall back a little and find higher ground. That way you can aim better. I’ll be fine down here.” She didn’t seem so keen on the idea as he placed a kiss on her lips. “Go. Now.” 
Agatha’s footfalls were soft against the dirt ground. When she stopped in her tracks, she glanced around at the sight before her. How could anyone be left alive after this? It was then she saw a pile of rubble against a collapsed building. Perfect. But just as Agatha approached her access point, she was caught off guard by a zombie. The creature made a grab for her and knocked her flat on her back. The former nun struggled, gritting her teeth as she shoved it off. With a powerful smack, she struck it with an arrow through the head. The thing fell limp and the woman scrambled to her feet. 
Heart still pounding, Agatha shook her head and looked towards the direction of the horde. Dracula hadn’t seen what had just occurred and for that she was thankful. Refocusing on the house, she made her way to the debris and scrambled up. It was then she realized that while the vampire had a point about her having a higher shooting range, making him out in the midst of the ravage was too risky. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but he damn well needed her if he didn’t want to end up...something other than his usual “undead”. 
“Agatha!” Dracula snapped in surprise as a zombie’s head collided with his shoe. “What the hell are you doing?!” “Saving you!” The woman declared, aiming her bow towards one of the creatures. “Clearly you need it.” 
“I told you to go up somewhere high!” He insisted, lobbing off another head. “For once can you listen to me?!”
“You forget I don’t have night vision!” Agatha hissed, hitting a zombie straight between the eyes. “I don’t know why you worry so much about me. I--”
She didn’t realize the thing was behind her until it sunk its rotten teeth deep into her forearm. Agatha cried out in a mixture of shock and horror as blood spurted from the wound. Almost instantly the creature’s head lay at her feet, the horde now completely destroyed. A look of horror was etched across Dracula’s face. One she had never seen before. The former nun grabbed her injury tightly, her heart banging so hard that her chest ache.
Christ, she’d really screwed up.
I hope you enjoyed part one (of two)! I know it is a different kind of story! Dracula was saying in Romanian: “Dammit” and “You must be kidding” while Agatha said in Dutch: “I speak a little bit of the Netherlands (or Dutch).” Anyway, feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Motivation helps so much! Until the next part! Stay safe and healthy! -Jen
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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years
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Hi dear writer, I hope this quarantine has been treating you well? I have a naughty request to make. Fem reader is on guard duty, doesn't see Arthur entering camp (Cause he entered from another direction.) He surprises her by grabbing her and pulling her behind a tree for a quickie.
This was a good one, thanks for sending Anon! I know it’s been a while since you sent this one in, but I’m whittling down my list! Have a sexy Arthur leaning against a post. 
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Warnings: pure smut with a touch of fluff
This could not be anymore boring. You hate taking guard duty, it really is the worst job in camp. No wonder why Bill’s always in a sour mood when he’s done with it. You sigh heavily. At least the trees surrounding Horseshoe Overlook are pretty, and at least you can watch the variety of birds and occasionally a deer looking for good vegetation to browse. 
You stand on the edge of the trees, not seeing anyone approach. You sigh and go back a little deeper into the trees, a bit closer to camp. You wish Arthur was here, he always likes to keep you company when you get stuck with this job. However, he went off to do a job early this morning. He’d given you a brief kiss before leaving (away from the sight of anyone else in camp). 
You shoulder the repeater, knowing no one will be coming that you need to worry about, and start picking your nails for want of something to do. Suddenly you’re grabbed around the waist and pushed against a tree. You yelp, prepared to scream, but a hand goes over your mouth. 
“Just me, sweetheart,” Arthur’s low, rough voice says in your ear. He suddenly starts kissing your neck. 
“Arthur!” you giggle. “What are you doing?” 
“Mm,” is his only response. His hands grip your hips and he starts rubbing his lips against the skin of your neck. You fold your arms around his shoulders and then you feel his waist pressing against you, his bulge hard. 
“What’s gotten into you?” you say, knowing now what he’s wanting. You and Arthur have only made love a handful of times, and they’ve all been in places that were away from camp. He’s never tried to initiate it within camp, not even in the border of the trees like this. 
“Met some damn O’Driscolls on the road,” Arthur groans into your neck. “When I finished them, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ how damn lucky I am to come back to you.” He tickles the soft spot of your neck with the scruff on his chin, making you giggle. 
Knowing he needs a release, you slide your hands down his body and to the button of his pants. You undo them quickly and reach in, gripping his hard cock. He groans at your touch and his hands squeeze your hips. You whip his length from his pants and start rubbing his length; it twitches hard in response. 
“Has anyone seen Arthur?” you hear Hosea’s voice coming down from camp. “I thought I saw him.” 
“Shit,” you hiss. “Arthur, we gotta make this quick.” 
He sighs in frustration, but then his hands go to your pants. He rips them down suddenly and then lifts your leg up, wrapping it around his waist. You whimper a bit as he pushes himself inside. All the other times you’ve made love, he’s been so considerate of getting you excited before entering you. He must know you aren’t quite ready; he slides two fingers into your slit and starts tickling your clit. You groan into his touch, feeling your muscles beginning to relax. 
“Mm, Arthur,” you say breathily. He goes back to kissing your neck and then he starts to thrust into you as his fingers rub your pulsing nub. Since he was already half done when you both started, it doesn’t take long for him to get worked up to the point that he’s shooting his seed into you. He moans as he releases, his hands squeezing your thighs hard. 
You think he’s going to leave you half-baked as he pulls his softening cock out of you, but instead he pushes his two fingers into you. He begins pushing them in and out of you. 
“Arthur,” you whimper again. He chuckles into your neck and then his lips press against yours. His thumb brushes your clit, making you push your hips out. He starts to fuck you hard with his hand as he kisses you. Your hands start to glide over his back and chest, as you like feeling his firm body. He’s just so damn hot! You begin panting, feeling that desired release edging closer. His thumb circles your clit and his fingers press in hard and you’re gone, a hiss slipping from between your teeth. 
“That’s my girl,” Arthur utters against your lips. He slowly pulls his hand from your folds and then holds you tight against him, which is good since your legs are especially shaky. You kiss him again and he smiles. “Yeah, you’re a’right,” he says. 
“That was good, Arthur,” you say. “Maybe tonight I’ll come visit your tent when everyone else is asleep.” 
He suddenly pinches your butt, making you yelp and giggle. “You better,” he chuckles. He stuffs himself back into his pants as you pull up your pants. He kisses you one last time. 
“When I see what Hosea needs, I’ll come back down, keep ya company.” 
“Thank you, Arthur.” You grab him for a final kiss, not wanting him to leave. He grins and gives you a wink when he pulls away. You watch him go up to camp, shamelessly watching his rear end. You sigh when he disappears from view, wanting him to come back already. 
Luckily, Arthur comes back after a few minutes. He folds you into his arms, pressing your face into his chest. 
“Arthur, I have to keep watch,” you say after a few seconds, even though this is all you want to do. 
“No one’s comin’, darlin’. Let’s just enjoy this.” He sits down against the tree he pushed you against earlier and then pulls you into his lap. You settle against his chest, his heat going through it and sinking into your skin. You kiss the triangle of his exposed chest and his arms tighten around you. He kisses your head in response. You couldn’t be more comfortable, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, his heart thumping loud in your ear, his scent flooding your nostrils. He smells wonderful, like home. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.
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blazinbeautywrites · 4 years
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Band Wars: Rise of the Phoenix
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Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.
None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me so full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.
Length: 2,356 words
A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this out guys. I was not happy with the final results and when I was I still was unsure so I rewrote it again and decided to just post it. I’ll let yall be the judge lol.
Genre: Honestly idk lmao
Chapter 1
 Universal Music Group (UMG) decides to debut a new girl group, PHOENIX on their first ever reality show “Next Big Thing.” The winners of the show get a 5 year, 5 album recording contract and will tour with CNCO 1 year after they debut. The winner of the show was Zania Reye Bloom, followed by London Monroe Jones, Jolene Maria Sanchez, Siane Rei Choi, and Avery Lynn O'Reilly. The band is composed of 5 talented women with different ethnic backgrounds, ages 24-25. 
Since the show served as the girl’s training they were immediately thrusted into the spotlight after the show ended. They went to work on their debut album and as the release date approached the girls were getting antsy. Now only were they about to release their baby onto the world, but they were finally meeting CNCO today and discussing ideas for their tour.
*UMG headquarters in LA*
“Yoooo I’m fucking excited! Can yall believe our debut album is coming out in a couple days?” London said as she led a couple of her members to the elevators.
“Girl this tour bout to be lit as fuck. Bruuuh we’re going to fucking Sweden. I didn’t even think we had fans out there.” Zania said.
“Yeah you can thank that girl Astrid who made the finals. She was Swedish.” Avery said.
The girls finally heard the elevator ding at their floor and immediately got out. The girls walked into a meeting room where they saw their other 2 members Jolene and Siane bonding with the boys of CNCO.
“Finally you bitches show up. What took yall so long?” Siane asked.
“Avery thinks she’s still in Ireland and almost drove us into a damn ditch.” Zania said.
“You’re alive aren’t you? So quit complaining.” Avery said as she took a seat opposite Erick.
“Anyways if yall are done….THIS is CNCO ladies. This is Zabdiel, Christopher, Erick, Joel, and this is Richard.” Siane said as she pointed to each boy as she introduced them. Richard definitely caught Zania’s eye and she quickly averted her eyes so he wouldn’t catch her ogling him. Little did she know, he was checking her out too.
“And I’m Zania, and of course yall met Jolene and Siane. This is London and Avery.” She said as she gestured to her other bandmates. She was about to say something else when a tall, slender woman walked into the room followed by a man wearing the loudest shade of yellow and another woman dressed in all black.
“Okay let’s make this short and sweet. I’m Veronica Pierce, you can call me Vee or Ms. Pierce, never Veronica. Get it? Got it? Good. I am your tour  creative director. I’ll be working closely with you all to design your tour. And please, let’s all collectively agree on a specific concept. I will not have my people designing 2 separate stages. To my left is Chez Moa, your set designer. And to my right is Mel Carter she and her team will be styling you all so meet with her some time this week so she can get an idea of what you guys want and need. And ladies you have a busy weekend ahead. Friday you have your album release, press runs, then your album release party later that night. Saturday you’ll be on Good Day LA where you’ll be interviewed and then perform your lead single. Sunday you have a mini showcase where yall will perform some fan fave covers from the show and a few songs from the album, including your single with CNCO. You’ll have tomorrow, Wednesday, and Thursday to learn choreo for both performances. You’ll meet your choreographer tomorrow. Any questions?” 
The whole room was silent as both groups stared at Veronica and her associates. Zania raised her hand and the other members of Phoenix sighed. They knew how this shit was about to play out.
“So do we get to breathe? Or do we have to pencil that in too?” Zania asked. She knew she was being an asshole but this shit was ridiculous.
“Hmmmm you must be Zania Bloom. They told me you had a mouth on you. Listen up sweetie this my show. I call the shots and if they bother you, you can leave.” Veronica said. Zania smirked at her and leaned back in her chair.
“Nah I’m good. You may continue, Ms. Pierce.” Zana said. Sarcasm dripping from her words.
“Anyways that’s all for now. And remember this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. It can be taken away in the blink of an eye so watch yourselves.” Veronica spoke. She eyed the room but everyone knew exactly who that was meant for. She, Mel, and Chez exited the room in silence. Once they left, Siane burst out laughing.
“Yo I was clenching my fucking ass cheeks. She’s soo fucking hot.” Siane said.
“Keep it in your pants Siane. And Zania, girl why did you do that? You made that shit more intense than it needed to be.” London asked.
“You know me, I just had to say something. She was a bitch to us when we did the show, now they’re making her the tour director, wtf?” Zania said.
“Am I the only one who noticed that guy had on too much yellow?” Chris said. Everyone turned to him and started laughing.
“Look, I ain’t wanna say anything but he was so wrong for that. And it was a complete contrast to Mel who had on all black.” Jolene said.
“But real shit Vee ain’t no joke, she can make or break you. So just be careful.” Richard said. He made eye contact with Zania and she smiled at him.
“Oh I’m not afraid of her. She’s on a power trip so I’ll entertain her mess for the sake of this tour. You don’t have to worry bout me baby boy.” Zania said. Everyone got up to leave but on her way to the door she was stopped by Richard.
“I don’t know if you realized but I’m a grown ass man so that baby boy shit not gon fly with me.” Richard said. Zania was amused.
“Oh did I bruise your whittle ego babe? Look it’s not that serious-”
“But it is that serious so treat me with respect or keep it moving baby girl.” Richard said as he cut her off. He walked away leaving Zania stunned in silence. She walked back to her group and chuckled.
“Yall…...that guy Richard just lowkey put me in my fucking place. Oh this tour is gonna be so damn fun.” Zania said. She and her bandmates went to find their stylists to get started on designing their perfect tour outfits.
                                             ______________
It had been a full 5 hours and the girls were hard at work on their choreo. They were thankful that most of the songs they performed were their covers from their reality show so the moves were ingrained in their heads. They breezed through their choreo for their own singles and just finished running through them a final time before Laurieann Gibson called for lunch. The girls were beyond starved and as they walked to the cafe area of the upscale dance studio they saw CNCO walk through the door.
“Oop the boys are here.” Jolene said as she fixed her slightly messy hair. She made eye contact with Zabdiel as he and the other boys walked into the dance studio they’s just left.
“Ooooohhh do I sense a little crush? London teased.
“See that tall one, Zabdiel? I promise you, I will climb him like a fucking tree.” Jolene said, much to the amusement of her group. 
“Woah. Down girl, we have a whole ass tour to get through.” Avery said.
“Look if I can’t fuck Vee, you can’t fuck Zabdiel.” Siane argued.
“Girl. Zabdiel is fair game, Vee is our fucking boss. There’s a difference.” Zania said as the girls found a table near the back of the cafe. Avery went to order them some food and soon a waiter came back with a tray of fruit, some finger sandwiches, and a basket of the cafe’s homemade potato chips.
“This looks so good and I’m starving.” London said. As the girls ate they discussed the difficult choreo.
“I really thought Laureiann was gonna throw her shoe or some shit at you cuz you couldn’t get that one move down.” Siane said.
“I wish she would throw some shit at me.” Jolene said while the others laughed at her.
“What kind of shit yall think they’ll have us do with the boys?” London asked.
“Probably something sexy, ya kno to pander to the fans.” Avery answered.
“I heard that they’re partnering us up with them for the collab so whomever we pick is our dance partner for the song.” Siane added.
“Well. this should be fun.” Zania said. The girls chat a little bit longer before cleaning up and heading back into the dance studio. When they arrived they heard their song with CNCO playing. Laurieann was teaching them their choreo and once saw the girls she turned the music off and immediately began assigning pairs.
“Okay London you’re with Joel, Jolene with Eric, Zabdiel and Siane, Avery and Chris are partners and lastly, Zania, you’re with Richard. Everyone please stand with your partner. I’m only gonna do the dance two times and then you’re gonna do it and we’ll fine tune everything afterwards” Lauriann said as she read off her list. Before the girls could even process anything they quickly got into formation to do the choreo.
                                            ______________
A few hours later, both Phoenix and CNCO were spread out on the floor, exasperated. Lauriann told them to rest up and that she’d see them in the morning before she left them all a sweaty mess in the studio.
“I swear there are parts of me that are sweating I ain’t know could sweat.” Siane said as she attempted to lift her head to no avail.
“Girl I feel like my fucking feet are gonna fall off.” Zania said.
“I can’t feel my left asss cheek.” Jolene mumbled.
“Bruh at least yall voices aren’t hoarse as fuck.” Richard said.
“We should probably start heading out because I need an ice bath or some shit.” Avery said as she willed her body to move. Everyone followed suit and struggled getting to their feet. When the girls began packing up to leave, Zabdiel strolled on over to pull Jolene to the side. Zania looked on and smirked to herself. All she hoped was that whatever they had going on didn’t get in the way of her group’s path to success. She snapped out of her little daze just as Jolene made it back.
“Well, what was that about?” Zania asked.
“Girl he asked for my number. I was like no and he said can you really say no to this face. I almost fucking melted so I gave him my number. He’s so fucking cocky. I love it.” Jolene beamed. Zania could tell her friend was happy so she chose to keep her mouth shut. The girls finally made it to the elevator when Zania realized she’d left her phone in the dance studio.
“Shut yall I left my phone. Yall go on I’ll text yall once I get home.” Zania said.
“Girl we’ll wait, just hurry up.” London said. Zania jogged back to the building and ran up the stairs to be quicker. Once she got to the door of the studio she heard the boys talking.
“I really like that girl London. She’s classy, yet has a sexy side. I like that.” Joel said.
“Now see Jolene….them lips. I bet her head game on point.” Zabdiel said.
“Ew bro what the hell!” Eric exclaimed.
“I know you of all people are not talking.” Richard said.
“Even though I think she’s kind of a bitch, Zania fine as fuck too.” Christopher said.
“Yeah she is fine. Yall seen that ass? I’d love to get behind that.” Richard said. Zania had heard enough and walked into the room.
“Yall should really make sure that the door is completely closed before you talk about us. Anyways I left my phone and just came back to get it. Oh and Richard, Zabdiel? I understand that Jolene and I are attractive but please don’t talk about us like we’re pieces of meat mkay?” With that she grabbed her phone and walked out, leaving the boys a little dumbfounded. Once she got back outside she filled her girls on what she heard.
“You know. We should teach them a lesson.” Jolene said.
“Oop I sense an infamous Jolene Sanchez prank.” Siane said.
“Yep. Okay so here’s the plan.” Jolene explains the little prank they’ll play on the boys at the showcase. They’d messed with the wrong girls.
                                            _____________
The rest of the week went by in a blur and before they knew it, their album release day was finally here. It’d only been a few hours and their album was already number 1 on a few of the urban and pop album charts. Siane screenshot the Billboard charts where their album was number 1 and sent it to their group chat. She then called them all on a video chat.
“WAKE UP BITCHES! WE NUMBER 1 BABYYYYYY!!!!1!” She yelled into the phone. The others, as groggy as they were, laughed at how hyped their member was.
“Girl you are so lucky I was up getting ready or I’d curse you the fuck out.” Zania said. 
“Bitch whatever. Anyways I love yall so much! We’ve officially ARRIVED! Like we in the fucking building forreal now. WHEW! Let me start getting my shit together. See yall soon. Love ya! Siane said as she hung up the video call. The girls were buzzing and couldn’t be any happier that after almost 6 months, their hard work has finally paid off and that their fans love their album as much as they do. They couldn’t wait to see what lie ahead for them. They knew whatever it was, it was gonna be big.
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wilmakins · 6 years
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Steve had always hated the cold.
 People tended to go quiet when he said that, or drop their eyes, obviously assuming it had something to do with the ice. But Steve hating the cold had nothing to do with being frozen – actually, Steve didn’t associate the crash with being cold. He’d been knocked out by the initial impact, blissfully unaware of the ice as it was putting him to sleep. He remembered the cockpit of the plane, and the bed in Fury’s little soundstage, and nothing in between.
 No, Steve had hated the cold since long before that. Since he’d watched his mother slowly die of TB in a draughty little house in Brooklyn. It had been Steve’s job to shelter his mom, to make that house safe and warm for her now that his father was gone. But he couldn’t. He was just a skinny little kid in the middle of the depression, no different from all the others crying out for help. He’d watched his mother cough and wheeze, sure he could have made her better if he could have just made her warm.
 And then she died.
 So yeah, Steve hated the cold. Cold nights like this made him feel vulnerable, they reminded him that he wasn’t really any different to the kid that failed in the 1930s, that death was always standing at his shoulder. Cold nights made him introspective and sad.
 And it wasn’t like he needed any help with that, these days.
 It had been three months since Siberia. Three months since he destroyed the only home he had. Three months since he left Tony on the floor of that bunker…
 He sighed heavily, his breath fogging the air around him like smoke. It was five below zero in Copenhagen, and their little safe house had no heating but many cracks in the wall. It was barely warmer inside than outside. He could make out the shape of Wanda, Natasha and Sam, lying on the floor with blankets wrapped tightly around their shoulders. Steve wondered if any of them were actually asleep. He wondered if they were kept up all night by regrets and what if’s like he was.
 Up until now, Steve had spent most of his nights thinking about the things he wished hadn’t happened. All the things he wished he’d never done, never said. It was a hot, irritable thought process, and always deeply unsatisfying. These things did happen, didn’t they? Working out what might have happened was of no use to anyone. But he just kept doing it. Like he kept having that same nightmare and kept trying to change the end, as though it would matter. As though if he didn’t bring that shield down into Tony’s chest in a dream, he might be rewarded by waking up somewhere else.
 But tonight was different. Tonight his thoughts were slower, and more substantial. Like a glacier. Tonight was hopeless, rather than desperate. Tonight was just sad. And, tonight, Steve found himself thinking about all the things he wished he had said. Not just the obvious. Not just at the end.
 And, wow, there was quite a list, wasn’t there?
 Thinking about it now, Steve realised, it had always been about the things he hadn’t said. That if he’d just gotten around to one of the things on that list, everything might have been better. Going back and saying a few words to Tony would have had more impact than anything he could have unsaid.
 In fact… five things. By the end of the night, Steve had whittled the list down to five simple sentences that could have changed everything.
 Which didn’t make him feel better, at all.
“You don’t have to let people hand you things”
Steve had been living in Avengers Tower, and the 21st century, for about four months. Both were still pretty overwhelming.
From the moment he opened his eyes in the morning, he was assaulted by things he didn’t understand. Technology beyond his wildest dreams, offering to help with tasks that hadn’t even existed in the forties. News coming in, instantly and wirelessly, from places Steve had never heard of, about issues he couldn’t comprehend. Food he didn’t know how to prepare, words he didn’t know how to pronounce, questions he couldn’t even think of asking.
But, more confusing than that – all the rules were different.
The shift in social assumptions had floored him more than anything. Mainly, like all people, he hadn’t known he had social assumptions, before. At least the new technology and strangely shaped fruit warned him they were alien, gave him some cue to ask about or avoid them. But social norms are different. They’re the things you say, do or expect without thinking. The things you don’t realise you’ve misunderstood until you’ve already messed it up. Things that no one else thinks to explain, because they’ve taken them for granted too.
Steve had been trying to pick it all up, but it was slow going. A lot of the time, he felt like he was play acting, copying things without really understanding the significance of them. He knew that he wasn’t allowed to talk about smoking, ever, but it was still okay to talk publicly about getting drunk. He knew that women’s clothing was now a very political issue, and it absolutely wasn’t his place to comment on it.
He knew Tony Stark didn’t like having things handed to him. So, he didn’t.
By now, Steve had worked out that this was a particular quirk of Tony’s, rather than a part of 21st Century etiquette. He’d heard the others tease him for it; he’d even joined in, gently, when he was quite sure that Tony was being ridiculous. But still, he put things on the table in front of Tony, never in his hands. It was just a habit, one of many meaningless gestures he’d hardwired in.
Until tonight.
Tonight, Steve was tired. Days in the 21st century were just longer – full of information and noise, extending into the wee hours under artificial lighting. Steve had adopted the futuristic habit of staying up late; he just couldn’t get out of the habit of getting up early. It left him with hours of frantic, incomprehensible activity that he had to work twice as hard as everyone else to keep up with. He was exhausted at the end of every day. And, today, there had been an incident in Central Park. Nothing major. A bunch of kids playing with something they’d found in the aftermath of the Chitauri attack, who’d only really managed to scare themselves. To anyone else, a perfectly routine mission. It was only Steve who was scanning everything, unable to understand the teenagers speedy slang, unsure how much damage had been done and how much had looked like that anyway… All he wanted to do now was to get Tony to sign his damn incident report, so that he could go to bed.
When he got to Tony’s door Steve was immediately greeted with a wall of sound. A violent noise that he knew was heavy metal, but still couldn’t recognise as music. Everywhere he looked there were screens, all moving with numbers and graphs and camera feeds. In the middle of all this chaos, surrounded by scrap metal, Tony was repairing his suit. The bright flash of the blowtorch, the shower of sparks, the hissing sound of tortured metal. Tony was the physical embodiment of everything that frightened and frustrated Steve about the future – bright and loud and fast and dangerous and still wide awake at midnight. Steve’s head throbbed. If he could have turned around and left, he would have.
Instead, he forced himself to march across the workshop. Tony turned the blowtorch off when he saw Steve, and silenced the music with a wave of his hand. There was a physical relief, like Steve had put down a heavy weight. And he was just so tired, so exhausted by the constant sensory input, so overwhelmed by the sudden reprieve, that he just handed Tony the papers.
He didn’t even realise what he’d done until he felt Tony take them, until he recognised that Tony’s response was wrong.
“Sorry” Steve muttered.
“Hm?” Tony didn’t even look up from signing the paperwork. He really hadn’t noticed what Steve had just done. Steve felt a little prickle of irritation at that. He couldn’t help wondering why Tony made a fuss about it, if he didn’t really care. Steve felt like a bit of an idiot for making the effort – he even wondered if that was the point. If Tony only did this to see if he could, to see if people like Steve would indulge him…
He remembered, not long after the battle of New York, a SHIELD agent had come to the Tower with a raft of papers for Tony. She’d held them out expectantly, as any reasonable person might, but Tony had told her he didn’t like to be handed things and gestured to the table. And the agent smiled and said “No way, that’s so strange – I don’t like picking things up off of the floor” And then she’d let the papers fall, scattering on the floor between them, and smiled at him “and then people look at you like you’re weird.” Steve had to try so hard not to laugh at the time. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Tony. He’d found plenty to like about Tony, after the rough start was behind them. But he had quite enjoyed seeing Tony put in his place. Seeing Tony nudge the papers with his foot, and then have to kneel down to gather them up, had seemed exactly what Tony deserved – just in general. Steve found himself thinking back to that incident with a bitter sort of glee, now.
And then he realised that Tony was looking at him, questioning. Steve realised his face was probably as angry as his head, and that he still hadn’t answered Tony. So, even though he couldn’t really be bothered with it, he felt obliged to explain.
“I thought you didn’t like to be handed things?” Steve sighed, trying not to sound antagonistic. But Tony’s face just melted into a smile.
“Well, I trust you” He explained with a laugh. That tone people used when they found one of Steve’s misunderstandings endearing. Steve just frowned.
What has that got to do with anything?
“I think I can take as a given that Captain America isn’t handing me a bomb” Tony clarified, when Steve didn’t say anything. The pounding in Steve’s head actually stalled for a second, he was so distracted by the realisation – that’s why he does it?
“Why would anyone be trying you a bomb?” Steve asked, his voice not quite as hard edged.
“Oh, people have their reasons.” Tony joked, and then he shrugged “What can I say, I’m paranoid. But just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.”
“But you’ve been doing this since before you were Iron Man” Steve thought out loud.
“I wrote my first anti-kidnapping plan when I was six” Tony informed him, proudly.
“Why?”
“Because I was kidnapped when I was five.” Tony answered, as though it was nothing.
It hit Steve then. What they were really talking about, what it really meant. The thought of a little kid, a little Tony, being snatched away and held for ransom… He thought about it hypothetically, first. How awful the very idea was. And then he realised, it really had happened. To Tony.
That’s why he does it.
“You were kidnapped when you were five?” Steve repeated.
“I’ve been kidnapped twice” Tony pretended to brag, handing Steve his papers back. “Oh, no, wait, three times – Afghanistan.” And he seemed to laugh at himself, for forgetting it counted.
But then, Steve had forgotten it counted, too. Steve had been right in the middle of being shocked that Tony had been ever been kidnapped, only to realise that he had already known that. He just hadn’t thought of it that way. He hadn’t really thought of it much, at all…
He thought about it now. He thought about Tony, held in a cave in Afghanistan, with a car battery wired into his chest. He thought of Tony at five years old, tied to a chair or drugged or locked in the boot of a car. He thought of Tony, always being nervous about what horrible thing might be about to happen to him, always feeling responsible for keeping himself safe from the world. Not wanting people to hand him things, because the world he knew was full of horrible people who would do him harm…
He thought of that agent again, making Tony pick his papers up on the floor. He remembered the way Tony had kicked through them first…checking… Steve hated himself, then. He thought of this nervous tick Tony had developed after years of trauma… and Steve had laughed at it. He’d let other people tease Tony for it. He’d watched Tony kneel down and pick those papers up. He wished so much he hadn’t, now. He wished so much he’d intervened, told Tony ‘you don’t have to let people hand you things, if you don’t want’, that he’d picked those papers up for him.
He thought about saying it, now. Saying sorry… But he didn’t know how to do it. Men were so different, now, so much more open is some ways, so insecure and aggressive in others. Was this Tony making light of his past, because that’s what Tony did, or was this how the world saw kidnapping now? Was it rude to comment? Would Steve offend him? It would have been hard enough to work that out with anyone, but that was Tony. Bright, fast, loud Tony, who’d never been one to let Steve get away with putting his foot in it… His head started pounding again, right on cue.
In the end, he decided it was better to say nothing than the wrong thing. He just took his papers, and went to bed.
This work continues on AO3
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Whatever It Takes-Part 9
Characters: Alpha! Dean Winchester, Beta! Sam Winchester, Omega! reader, Beta! sister Terri (OC
Part 1        My Master List
Beta’d by the Girl with the Rainbow Tattoo, @kittenofdoomage
I didn’t even look at Dean as we walked to the car. I couldn’t stop seeing that woman with her hand on his arm and her eyes filled with longing.
“Would you stop for a minute? Can we talk about this please?” He asked tersely, reaching out to grab my arm.
I pulled away from him with a sigh.  “Just take me home, Dean.”
He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to change his mind.  I threw open the door and sat down, so overcome with fury and jealousy it was threatening to choke me.  Was this how it was going to be? Dean’s past coming back to haunt me just as we were starting to get comfortable?
“I’m sorry.” He said very quietly. “I wanted this night to be special.”
“You’re never going to be just mine, are you?” I whispered, glancing sideways at him. God, he was so damn pretty! Wait a second…. Where did that come from?  Then I noticed it. That itchy feeling beginning in my stomach, like my skin was getting too tight.  Then the familiar warmth bubbled up in my core, and I bit back a moan.
“Oh no.” I gasped.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” Dean asked his voice heavy with concern. He took in a breath, and his nostrils flared. I knew he could smell it.
“Great.  Just great.”  Whatever they had given me at the hospital to suppress my heat had obviously worn off.  Perfect freaking timing, as usual.
We pulled up at my place and I ran from the car, needing to put as much distance between Dean and me as possible. I was already starting to sweat, and I could feel my stomach twisting in knots.
Please, not now!!” I muttered as I threw myself on the couch and curled up into a ball.  
“Dammit, Y/N! Would you stop running from me! We need to talk about this!” Dean had taken off his jacket, and he was breathing heavily as though he had run from the car.  I could tell my heat was starting to affect him.
“She was so desperate, I could see it in her eyes.  How many other Lisas are we going to run into? How many other women are out there who want to lay claim to you?” I jumped off the couch and got right into his face, my heat fueling me with anger and aggression.
He grabbed my arms, holding me against him. “I can’t change the past, Y/N. But I don’t want any of them.  I just want you.”
I jabbed my finger into his chest.  “You’d better be sure Dean. because I don’t share.  It’s all or nothing with me.  I refuse to compete with every Omega you screwed while you were with Alpha4. What’s to stop you getting bored with me and calling one of your old fucks?”
Dean didn’t reply, but I could tell by the dangerous glint in his eyes that I had pushed him too far.  He picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, carrying me off towards the bedroom.  When he threw me onto the bed and began taking off his shirt. I scrambled into a sitting position, shoving my hair out of my eyes, torn between annoyance and arousal.  “What the hell was that for?”  I demanded.
“It shut you up, didn’t it?” He said with a smirk.
My face softened. “Come here,” I whispered. He climbed onto the bed, leaning into me as I put my arms around him. “I love you, you know that, right?”  I whispered as our lips met in a breathless kiss. I could feel him tremble as his hands slid down my back to cup my ass and pull me against his erection.  
My head was spinning as we shared a hot, open-mouth kiss that was equal parts anger and passion. I had so many conflicting emotions fighting for dominance at the moment, I didn’t know which end was up.
“That dress has to go.” He snapped.  “Get it off or I will.” My nimble fingers made short work of the many buttons on the dress and slipped it from my shoulders, along with my bra and panties. I threw my clothes into the corner, the coolness of the room making me shiver slightly.
Dean’s eyes looked me over possessively as his hand reached out to caress my shoulder.  He loomed in front of me, large and dominating.  That apple-pie scent of him just washed over me, and I could feel the slick smearing against my thighs. My stomach clenched hard, and I whined with need.
“Lay down and let me take care of you, Omega.” He growled in that deep timbre that turned my bones to complete jelly.
I shook my head, holding my hand up against his chest.  “No, YOU lay down.”
His eyes flew to mine, surprised.  “You wanna take the wheel tonight, ‘mega?” He whispered in a husky voice.
I nodded slightly.  “That okay?”
His grin was instant.  “Hell yeah!’ He said with enthusiasm. I pushed against his chest, and his laid down on the bed, his thick cock standing tall and proud.  It made my mouth water. I scrambled into his lap taking his face in my hands and kissing him passionately.  I rocked in his lap my slick allowing the head of his cock to slide through my pussy lips over and over, and he groaned as I teased him.
Pulling my lips from his to take a gasping breath my mouth latched onto one of his nipples and tugged as I continued to grind on him and he almost fell off the bed.  His eyes were closed, and he was moaning softly. His hands came up, tangling in my hair and he spoke, “Need you, Y/N”
I reached down and guided him to my entrance, impaling myself on his hard shaft and I gave a choked cry. I began to work him over, twisting my hips and sliding myself incredibly slow up and down on his cock, and Dean began to shake and curse. He wanted hard and fast, I could tell, but that just made me go agonizingly slower. I wanted him to feel every movement.
“Stop teasing, Y/N.” he warned, his hands coming up to rest on my hips and pull me down, harder and deeper as our hips smacked together.
I looked deep into his eyes as I raised myself up so that just the tip of him remained inside me.  “I  need you to be all in with this, Dean. 100%. I need all the Lisas of the world to know that you are my Alpha and no one else’s.” And with this, I slammed myself down on his cock and began to ride him with a bruising rhythm.
“Dammit!” He swore. “I’m yours, Omega. Always.”
My orgasm was approaching, and I could feel his knot swelling, making it more difficult to ride him. My pussy clamped down on him like a vice, and I started to collapse on his chest with a hoarse scream of pleasure. My lips were very close to his neck, so with a quick twist of my head I leaned into him and sank my teeth into his neck and bit hard until I drew blood.  
His eyes widened in surprise, and he hissed slightly in pain. I ran my tongue over the bite, lapping up the blood, the coppery taste of him filling my mouth.
“Now you’re mine,” I said smugly, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth.  Dean stiffened, and a roar of pleasure escaped his lips, as he came hard, filling me with his hot cum. He quickly pulled me down to him and bit me, his teeth marking me, binding us together forever, and triggering another smaller orgasm for me.  He poured into me for what seemed like forever.
I lay on his chest, small aftershocks running through me, trying to catch my breath.  When I finally had control of myself I slid off and lay down next to him. I didn’t move for a long moment because I was actually afraid to look at him. When I finally turned in his direction, his eyes were warm and he was smiling.  “So this happened,” I whispered with a small grin.
“You taking control like that was incredibly hot, Y/N. I’ve wanted this for so long.” He told me, his hand holding mine.
“Me too,” I whispered back. It just felt right. We fell asleep holding hands, knowing that when we woke up everything would be totally different.
My apartment was bigger and Dean’s lease was almost up, so we decided he would move in with me.  After much arguing and compromising we were able to whittle our stuff down to one home’s worth.  Believe me, it wasn’t easy.  Dean is very attached to his stuff.
Time flew by as he worked long days getting the garage in order, but he always had me to come home to.  Next week Sam is on spring break, and he is coming to visit, and I am finally going to get to meet him, not as Dean’s “friend” from Harvelle’s, but as Dean’s Omega and his mate.
Today is my one-year follow up with the Turner-Singer specialist.  Dean really wanted to be there, but there was some issue at the shop that he had to deal with personally.  “It’s no problem, babe.  Terri said she would go with me.”
“But I’m your Alpha, I should be there.” He said stubbornly, crossing his arms.
I rolled my eyes at him.  “It’s no big deal. I’ve been feeling really good. I haven’t had any further episodes. I promise I’ll tell you everything.  Terri knows my entire history with this.  It will be fine.”
He pulled me to him, and hugged me, kissing the top of my head.  “Call me as soon as you are finished.”
“Yes, Mom. Now go to work!” I laughed, practically pushing him out the door.
He turned in the doorway before leaving. “I mean it, Omega. Call me.  As soon as you are done.”
Terri met me at the office since the hospital was close to her house.  This place brought back very bad memories for me.  They took a bunch of tubes of blood as soon as I got there, and then we sat in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity waiting for the doctor.
“So how are things with you and Dean?” Terri asked.
“Really good. He’s been working a lot.  Sam is coming to visit next week, so he’ll be home for that.”
Terri put her hand on my arm.  “It’s nice to finally see you two in a good place.”
The nurse called my name and we were escorted to the doctor’s office.  It was filled with books and leather and diplomas and just screamed pretension. His bedside manner hadn’t improved. “So Y/N. I ’ve had a look at your labs. Everything looks good, except for one thing. Your HCG came back positive.”
Terri and I looked at each other.  “And that means?”
“You’re pregnant.  Pregnancy is contraindicated for Turner-Singer patients. Given the difficulties you have had in the past, I don’t believe your body will be able to tolerate the hormone changes of pregnancy.  I suggest terminating the pregnancy right away.  Have you been using birth control?”
“Yes,” I said immediately. “Well, there was one time, maybe two. But I wasn’t really worried about it because I was told a few years ago I most likely couldn’t have children.  I had some gynecological issues when I was younger……” My voice trailed off.
“You didn’t tell me any of this!” Terri snapped.  She was right. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me, so I hadn’t shared this with anyone. After Dean’s rut, I’d angrily told him I could have gotten pregnant because we didn’t use anything.  I said it more to hurt him than because I’d actually believed I could be pregnant. I still felt guilty about that.
“Thanks, but no,”  I said suddenly.
“Excuse me?” The doctor said, confused.
“I said no. I am not terminating this pregnancy.”
“Ms. Y/L/N….” The doctor began in a condescending voice.
“What she means is she needs to discuss this with her Alpha,” Terri said, glaring at me as she grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my chair.
“I want to see you back next week. The sooner we terminate, the better.” The doctor said, shuffling his papers.  I was clearly being dismissed.
“What are you going to tell Dean?” Terri asked me as soon as we were in the hallway.
I just stared at her, because I had absolutely no idea.
Part 10
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daddies-stan-blog · 7 years
Note
Robert in the prologue seemed fond of camping? Maybe a camping trip with Dadsona
Camping seems like a calm getaway for the two, here’s my attempt on it! I hope you enjoy! 
Camping getaway
Robert Small X MC Daddy
���Good morningsleepy head, if you want your camping trip to start great you gotta get upfirst.” I opened the curtains and let the sunlight enter Robert’s room. “You fucker…”Robert mumbles on the pillow, trying to avoid as much sunlight as possible. Weplanned this camping trip a few weeks ago and today is finally the day, I’mpretty excited as well; it’s been years since I went camping. I managed to gethelp from Craig and Brian for the best camping sites, I even got to borrow someawesome camping gear. I sat down by the bed where Robert is “You wanted to campout right? If we don’t leave soon it’d be too hot and humid to walk around.” Itook a peek at his face under the pillow. I removed some hair on his face andgave him a couple of kisses on his forehead to wake him up. “I’m up. I’m up.” Hegiggled at the gesture and sat up. “I already made breakfast downstairs, comeon.” I urged him to stand up.
“You sure we’vegot everything you need?” Robert asked as he shut the back of his old pickuptruck. “Yeah, I think” I said as I checked a list on my phone. “What about youBetsy?” He grabs Betsy and she starts licking all over Robert’s face. “I guessyou’re all good too. We’re hitting the road then.” Robert says as we went inthe car. We just listened to the radio most of the time and I just enjoyed theview with Betsy who was enjoying the fresh air very much. I couldn’t tell whichview I like more, the one outside or the one right beside me. I looked atRobert, who seemed enthusiastic about the trip now in comparison to thismorning; Coffee was all he needed. He wore his shades and sang along to thesong playing on the car’s stereo. “Hey, we’re pretty lucky. Weather is lookingpretty good.” I say as I look at the sky. (Did I seriously start thisconversation with the weather?) “Hopefully it’ll stay like this, it’ll makesetting things up a hundred times easier.” He comments. “Last time I wentcamping was when Amanda was 10, hard to believe that it’s been 8 years.” “I betthe kid didn’t like it huh?” He laughs. “Yeah, kids would rather be at Disneylandover the weekend.” “Well, we’ll both make up for the lost opportunities today…Haven’t camped in a while too.” He smiles a bit at the idea. It’s contagious, Ismile as well.
Once we arrived,we got all the gear set up. Robert seems to be a pro at this. We managed tohave the tent up in a couple of minutes (after a few arguments on who was righton how to put the damn thing up). Then we set up a little campfire site with alittle help from Betsy who managed to collect a bunch of sticks we could uselater. “Who’s a good girl?” I rubbed Betsy’s belly “You are, you are.” Robert gigglesa bit at the view. “We better start hiking, I heard there’s a waterfall and ariver nearby.” He nods as we started our little adventure.
“Hey a hangingbridge. We’re pretty close then, we just gotta cross and head south.” Robertsays as he grabbed Betsy, afraid she’ll fall from the bridge. “After you.” Hesays. It was pretty high and scary, I think Robert could see the fear in myeyes, or even smell it (I don’t know this guy is pretty keen at sensingothers). “Don’t worry I got my eye on you.” He said for reassurance as weslowly made our way through. Few minutes later we made our way to the waterfalland river. Betsy immediately went to run towards the river with excitement, Icouldn’t help but follow the pooch. I swam with Betsy beside me who seemed sorefreshed and happy, I looked at Robert who was still fully clothed and wassitting by the river looking at the two of us. “Hey, you’re wearing too muchclothes!” I yelled and urged him to get in. “I’ll get in a little later-“ Isplashed water at him, unconvinced by his excuses. “Hey-stop my clothes!” Hesaid as he splashed water back at me and Betsy. “Which is why my dear sir, youhave to take them off. Pull off a show for me and Betsy.” I said as he laughs “Yeah,sure. For Betsy.” He said as he took his clothes off, leaving only his boxers. DAMNWAS HE IN PRETTY GOOD SHAPE. (Now this is a view) I’d be lying if I wasn’tturned on. We played around the river for a while occasionally jumping off thewaterfall (Robert convinced me to do so). After all the fun, we sat down by theriverbed with Betsy, who was a little tired and decided to rest up a bit on mylap. Robert took out his knife and began whittling on a piece of wood he foundnearby. It was nice and calming. I enjoyed every single thing about it: Theview of the river with rays of light reflecting on the surface creatingshimmers, the occasional hums Robert made while whittling, and lastly, thelittle pooch resting on my lap. I forgot how fun the outdoors was.
Once it wasgetting pretty late we changed our clothes and ate our dinner by the fireplacewhile having fun conversations about what might be lurking in this woods. Itwas slowly getting colder when the sky got darker. Robert stood up and got someblankets out and laid them by a patch of grass with a great view of the sky. Hesat down and signaled me to lay down beside him, Betsy also following theorder. I rested my head on his arm and wrapped my arms around him. He grabsanother blanket to keep us both warm. I was surprised to feel his lips kissingme on my forehead. Robert didn’t say a word, he just looked up and enjoyed thesight of the stars. “I realized something…” I said. Robert just faced me,waiting for me to continue. “I love camping” I said. “You’re a cock tease youknow that?” He laughs. “It should be ‘I love you’” Robert corrects. He sayskissing me on the lips this time. “That too…” I said giggling a bit. But Idefinitely love the latter one more.
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itsjaybullme · 7 years
Text
The Best Sports Bras of Fall 2017
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Courtesy of Lululemon
You research the most technical training shoes to find the pair that'll maximize your lifts, scrutinize the top-of-market strength apps to find the best one for your goals, and always have a solid new lineup of workout tights and tops to keep your apparel looking fresh.
But how about your sports bras? You've probably got a few trusty options. But odds are good they're past their prime—busted and incapable of giving your girls the support they need for your ever-changing regimen.
We got our hands on a plethora of sports bras across a variety of brands—each with its own roster of benefits for lifters, runners, and athletes. We whittled down that list to bring you the most impressive, top-performing sports bras of the bunch. Here's what we love about each, and what activity they're best suited for. Upgrade your wardrobe, strap one on, and get ready to work.
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1. The Jenny by Chestee
Courtesy of Chestee
If you see a style like this and think, There's no way I can rock this, you’re wrong. The Jenny bra, while unique, is very flattering. The mesh paneling adds a playful element that’s actually very subtle. I forgot it was even there while lifting. Despite the bra’s nearly backless appearance, the thick straps are supportive and comfortable. At first, the high-cut neckline felt restricting, but that feeling quickly went away. Even during plyometric moves, everything felt securely in place. Oh, and the signature padded collarbone protection? You won’t be able to front squat or power clean without it ever again. Bashed collarbones are a thing of the past. — Rose McNulty, editorial assistant
Best for: lifting, but supportive enough for HIIT and running
($68, thechestee.com)
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2. Enlite Bra by Lululemon
Courtesy Image
Rather than cramming or flattening your boobs, Lululemon's Enlite Bra takes a revolutionary approach to support. The cups mold around each breast, individually lifting, holding, and bracing them against impact (so you won't catch the girls bouncing with wild abandon mid-workout). The bra boasts a damn-near seamless construction—no bunching or digging—thanks to a bonded underband along your rib cage, and free-cut edges along the straps and back. The material is feather-soft and silky, yet saps sweat with ease. And, get ready for this, you'll never have to wrestle off a sweaty bra again. With the traditional three-hook closure at the back, you simply slide your arms through the holes and secure at the back. My only complaint? The bra comes up a little high in that area where you traditionally experience bra bulge: where your armpit meets your arm, at the front of your upper body. It didn't restrict motion, but it was noticeable. — Brittany Smith, associate editor
Best for: running, lifting, spinning...everything, really
($98, lululemon.com)
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3. Longevity Bra by Knixwear
Courtesy Image
I can say without hesitation that I’ve never been obsessed with a sports bra (at least not in the same way I’m obsessed with Millennial pink athletic apparel). That is, until I tried the Longevity Bra from Knixwear. Yes, it’s supportive, comfortable, and 100% functional—I wore it running, at yoga, and more than a few times at work, with no problems or annoyances. An added bonus (and one of my favorite features) of the sports bra is that it has just the right amount of compression to give you perfectly perky cleavage. The snug fit and reinforced bust (no underwire) are spot-on. Trust me, as far as sports bras go, this is one to get excited about. Make sure you follow their sizing chart for a perfect fit. — Erin Alexander, editorial assistant
Best for: running, yoga, everyday activity
($50, knixwear.com)
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4. Hero Strong by Reebok
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The Hero Strong 1) looks killer and 2) offers a ton of support and modesty thanks to the mesh overlay. If you have a larger chest, and want a bra you can work out confidently in—no fleshy spillover, no wardrobe malfunction, no need for a T-shirt—this one fits the bill. Despite this being a medium-impact bra, I love how minimal and non-restrictive the back is. It does run a little big, however, so we’d recommend sizing down for a perfect fit. Go on and show off your hard work come back day. — Rose McNulty, editorial assistant
Best for: lifting, HIIT, running
($55, reebok.com)
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5. Stabilyx Running Bra by CW-X
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If you’re not concerned with a plunging neckline, strappy back, or cute-as-hell print—you just want a comfortable sports bra that delivers high-impact support, we’ve found your match. The Stabilyx Running Bra has unrivaled motion control that’s perfect for bigger busts (up to 40DD). Within each cup is a five-point support web that more or less suspends your breasts, immobilizing them so they stay in place without feeling suffocated. Seriously, though, those suckers won’t move. Box jumps, sprints, boxing, you name it. The straight shoulder straps don’t jeopardize support in the least bit, and I love the fully adjustable back and shoulder clasps. You’ve got 18 ways to customize your fit. — Brittany Smith, associate editor
Best for: running, kickboxing, HIIT classes
($60, zappos.com)
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6. Sarah by Senita Athletics
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The Sarah bra seamlessly combines function and fashion. It's a fuller-coverage option with medium support that comes in a range of colors and prints. I'm crazy about the back storage pocket. While it's only big enough for an iPhone 6 (without the case, for the most part), a credit card, and key, it's budge-proof. The pocket kept my phone in place and didn’t get in the way, even during lat pulldowns and runs. The wide straps also helped keep everything in place with minimal adjusting. You can't beat this price point either. — Rose McNulty, editorial assistant
Best for: lifting, running, yoga
($26, senitaathletics.com)
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7. Breathelux Mid by Under Armour
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The Breathelux Mid is one of those miraculous sports bras you actively choose to wear all day long because it’s that damn comfortable. It has a gorgeous aesthetic—complementary color blocking, higher neckline, longer hem—and a luxurious feel against your skin. There’s a mesh lining to boost breathability and limit hot spots, bonded straps that sit flush against your skin, and thin, built-in cups that give you the shape and modesty you crave. Plus, since they’re sewn-in, you don’t have to putz around with 'em post-wash or worry about one being off-kilter. I immediately loved the key-hole detail and strappy back design, but loved it even more when it didn’t dig into my skin when I was lying down during savasana in yoga and legs raises in the gym. — Brittany Smith, associate editor
Best for: Lifting, yoga, spin (medium-impact activities)
($54.99, underarmour.com)
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8. Fit Sports Bra by Gymshark
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This bra is insanely comfortable, and although it looks like a run-of-the-mill sports bra at first glance, it has some head-turning details. Namely, the side cutouts. The little flash of flesh isn't over-the-top, and the subtle criss-cross detail at the back where the band overlaps adds style points. The thick band ensures a budge-proof fit without any pinching, and the lightweight fabric keeps the bra from feeling restricting. That said, it’s worth noting this bra may not offer enough support for larger-chested women or high-impact activities, like running. — Rose McNulty, editorial assistant
Best for: lifting, yoga
($28, gymshark.com)
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9. LVFT Performance Bra by Live Fit Apparel
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How does it sound to wear a bra that doesn't dig into your sides or shoulders? Like an impossible, wonderful dream? With the LVFT Performance Bra, it's a reality. Thick, padded straps that don’t add bulk or look drab, lie on top of your traps, rather than bite into them. The band is a standout. There's a soft lining that eliminates chafing. This is another great option for larger-chested ladies. Thanks to the removable molded cups and sturdy straps, you're covered. — Rose McNulty, editorial assistant
Best for: lifting, running
($45, livefitapparel.com)
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10. JustRight Racer by Brooks
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Ladies, meet your new go-to sports bra for long runs, sprints, and everything in-between. Its soft, seamless design makes it easy to get on and off (a godsend, really), while the racerback style keeps you supported without feeling suffocated. Although it doesn't have any fancy contraptions like a designated key or phone pocket, I found I could pop my keys in the front of the bra without having to worry about them slipping through the bottom thanks to the perfectly fitted band. Sometimes simple is all you need. – Erin Alexander, editorial assistant
Best for: running
($48, brooksrunning.com)
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from Bodybuilding Feed http://www.muscleandfitness.com/muscle-fitness-hers/hers-features/best-sports-bras-fall-2017 via http://www.rssmix.com/
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