of-mutts-and-men · 1 year ago
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I would love to be a plucky young adventurer who heard about local farmers losing livestock to a dangerous werewolf that's been prowling the area and seems to be getting more aggressive lately. I'd scope the territory out until I find a large, secluded cave that would be perfect as a werewolf den/lair and charge in with my sword at the ready to slay the beast before realising what a big misjudgement I've made. It's not that there was one werewolf seen pillaging the farmlands. It's that there was one werewolf seen at a time, and I've just barged into the lair of an entire pack. All of whom are in rut, explaining the increased aggression as of late, and all of whom appear to be very interested in the fertile little adventurer who has but given himself to the hungry beasts.
And in case it wasn't clear enough, then they rip off all my armour, gear and clothes and make me the centre of a marathon breeding orgy until I'm suspended between knots and stuffed so full of fertile werewolf cum I couldn't leave even I wanted to <3
(I feel like I've been seeing a lot of monstery threesome/group sex posts on your blog lately and it got me thinking :P)
And there’s gonna be more if my drafts have anything to say about it >:) The more the merrier.
But I would like to be too stuffed to move right about now. Preferably while laying on a big werewolf’s chest, too bred and blissed out to care about what I came there for
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blueluneacy · 4 years ago
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Black Ocean
I wrote another Labyrinth AU piece, this time with Bruno. Bc I can. I have an idea for literally every fucking character in this Au so rip y’all who don’t like it
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: razors, blood, deception, ocean, implied drowning??
It was a lot easier when you weren’t traveling alone. You felt yourself smiling a lot more, happier more of the time. Your travels didn’t feel like a chore, and there was someone to watch your back, finally. Of course, it wasn’t always like that.
When you first met Bruno, you had bumped into him while traveling through a large desert-like portion of the maze, ready to drop dead of thirst and exhaustion. Bruno found you and hauled you out of that wretched place, and although the two of you were suspicious of each other, the idea that the other was not a beast in disguise still not completely at bay, you agreed that if the two of you were ever to meet again in this terrible place, you would exchange the knowledge you had learned while you were apart. It seemed amicable, at least.
It must’ve been weeks before the two of you found yourselves in the same place again, this time bumping into each other while lost in the Great Dio’s Maze of Roses, a terrible place where the awful beast would entrap people in a maze full of thrones Rose bushes, taller than any wall constructed by man, only to wait for them to collapse from exhaustion and allow him to drain their bodies of all blood. Some even said that he could suck out their very soul, ending the cycle of deaths and resetting. The two of you made a deal to help each other evade the terrible Beast, hoping that if there were two of you, you could work as the other’s support from falling into despair. The two of you only barely scraped past, Bruno getting the idea to set some of the brush on fire in order to escape, letting Dio get lost in the smoke. For a moment, you actually had lost Bruno in the smoke too, leaving the Rose Labyrinth by yourself, and you had a twinge of fear. It wasn’t as if you cared about Bruno, but you didn’t wish the fate of being Dio’s snack upon anyone. When you heard his coughing, you felt yourself sigh in relief, going over to him as he leaned on you for support.
“Bastard… Sorry, you know how Beasts like to talk. He was willing to drown in the smoke just if it meant that I would drown with him.”
And since then, both of you quite convinced that the other wasn’t a beast in disguise, there was a mutual pact to travel together. It wasn’t spoken at first, simply the idea that both of you “happened to be heading this way.” But after a few days of stubbornness on your part, and kind gestures on Bruno’s, you relented and agreed the two of you would become partners in your journey to the exit.
And then, you got to know Bruno, got to actually know him as a person and not another face on your journeys. You had to admit, he was a handsome man, tall and muscular, with black hair he tied back to feel from falling into his face.
“I was a fisherman before all this. I’d like to get back, I’m sure that there are people waiting for me back home.” He would tell you as the two of you sat around a fire, hoping that the gray would get just a bit darker so it would be easier to sleep. “I’m sort of missing the ocean at this point.”
Bruno was an open, honest person. He would tell you exactly how he felt, listening to you ready to squabble about what direction the two of you were to take, only to give you a calm reply, telling what he thought. He was always able to convince you, and you sort of hated that about him. Bruno really was a born leader, but you were stubborn. He would relent a few times, when he thought it wasn’t important, like what the two of you should have for dinner or the type of tinder for the fire. It wasn’t until the incident with the Blood Beast that you started to realize that you might be in too deep with your feelings about Bruno.
He had saved you. You had gotten upset with the man and rushed head first into a beast’s maze, not realizing you were heading right into his den before your limbs started to freeze up, before you started to cough up metal scrap mixed with blood.
“Foolish little human, running straight into my maw…” You heard the terrible thing growl, and god, you thought this was it. This was the end, and it was going to be a painful one. But right as you were about to give up, to give in and hope that you would awaken at the beginning quickly, Bruno was able to throw some rocks to distract the beast, before grabbing you and starting to drag you off. Of course, it only took moments for the Blood Beast to realize what had happened, but apparently in the time where you were left coughing up razors, Bruno had used his knot tying skills to work and left a snare for the beast, grinning as he heard the pained yelp as the Beast ended up trapped upside down. Bruno easily scooped you up into his arms, running off with you and back out into the open wilds of the Labyrinth.
“What were you doing, rushing into there like that?! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Bruno fussed as he laid you down, moving to grab the meager first aid supplies the two of you had in one of your packs.
“I would’ve come back… It’s fine, you put yourself in danger just to get me… That was pretty stupid of you, to be honest…” You tried to reason, just shrugging yourself off. You were right. You would’ve been fine in the end, your death would have been one of many you’ve experienced at this point, but Bruno just gripped your hand.
“Don’t say that. If you died, we probably would never see each other again. And I honestly don’t think I could bear that, Tesoro.” Bruno’s voice was low, genuine, and you couldn’t help but gasp. In all your stupidity and stubbornness, Bruno was always there for you, always helping you when you fell down, that you couldn’t help but tear up.
“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” You couldn’t get another word out, your tears becoming too heavy and you buried your face into Bruno’s chest. He paused for a moment, unsure of what to do, before finally wrapping his arms around you.
“It’s alright, I’ve got you (Y/N).... You’re okay now, he won’t be able to reach us out here….” Bruno’s voice was soothing and warm, something you could attach to, keep close with. He was real, not like this constantly changing Labyrinth the two of you were trapped in. Your worst fear was being realized, finally. You were in love with Bruno, with a man you had met in the middle of hell.
“Let’s rest here for the evening. You need to rest.” Bruno told you, pulling you off him to set up camp. You whimpered, looking over him with wide eyes.
“But… We haven’t made any progress today, I don’t want to be the reason we’re being held back…” You mumbled, only for Bruno just to sigh, giving you a sad smile.
“I don’t care about that. You need to rest, and that’s all that matters.” He told you. You nodded, your heart warming up as you laid back down, shocked and pleased at being taken care of. Of having someone else to rely on, to not have to constantly be afraid for your life. That night, you slept in Bruno’s arms. It was the best sleep you’ve ever had in this hell.
Your travels became a lot happier after that. You became a lot more pleasant to travel with on your end, and you were honestly the happiest you had ever been on this journey. In turn, you also became a lot bolder, willing to take more risks if it meant moving forward, much to Bruno’s distress. When the two of you reached a shore of what appeared to be an endless ocean, you just smiled and looked around until you found a broken down sailboat.
“Oh, we could totally fix this and get through the sea! Come on, help me take a closer look!” You called, running over to the small vessel and finding only a few small holes and the two of you could easily patch up.
“I don’t know… We don’t know what kind beast’s lair we’re walking into out there. Plus, I’ve never even heard of an ocean in the Labyrinth.” Bruno pointed out, but you just smiled.
“Which could mean that we’re looking at the exit right here. I mean, come on, I really have the instinct that we’re getting close to something big! Besides, I’ve read Moby Dick. I know how to deal with sea monsters.” You grinned. Bruno just sighed.
“I don’t know…” He looked out at the ocean, but you just leaned against him, entwining your fingers with his.
“Come on. You’re the best sailor I know, I know if we’re together, we can do anything.” You told him. He just rolled his eyes, but you knew that Bruno was smiling.
“I’m the only sailor you know.”
“Making you the best! Come on, how about this? You work on the boat, and I’ll collect food and try to make a harpoon in case we do actually meet a sea monster. If we think the preparations are good by tomorrow morning, we go, if not, we’ll find another path. Deal?” You told him. Finally, Bruno sighed and leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek.
“You always know how to wear me down into saying yes, don’t you?” He teased. You just grinned.
“It’s a gift! Now come on, I want to find a good stick for my harpoon.” You told him, pulling away to go hunting for that sweet stick. Bruno just laughed and got to work.
The two of you worked into the night, but as the time grew near, it seemed like the two of you were finally ready. He had repaired the canvas sails using thread from old clothing he had found, fashioned driftwood into oars, the whole works. You grinned as you saw it, your bag loaded up with food and your stick nice and sharp. You’re doing great.
“Alright, look at us. A couple of sailors, about to take the ocean!” You grinned, pulling your shoes off and throwing them onto the boat so as to not get them wet.
“Why am I already regretting this?” Bruno sighed, though he was smiling at how excited you were. He helped you push off the boat, the two of you climbing in without much trouble.
And it really was smooth sailing. Bruno commented on how favorable the wind was, showing you exactly how to steer and position the sails, before fixing it into position and letting you watch as you saw fish swim under your small boat, watching the land behind you disappear into nothingness. The two of you were really in the middle of nowhere. In a sense, it was wonderful, to see nothing but the ocean around the two of you, watching the ocean beneath you allow your passage, shifting from blues to purples. Another mystery of the Labyrinth you would never be able to explain. It was a long journey, but Bruno was eventually able to set it to move forward, only getting up to adjust if the wind where to change, which wasn’t often. The two of you simply sat and watched the endless sea. You could really get lost out here. In a way, you did.
It wasn’t until the two of you spotted a small island that you perked up, grinning.
“Bruno! Bruno, look! Isn’t it amazing? It’s not an exit, but we might be able to find something there!” You told him, getting up and moving to adjust the sails to try and land, but Bruno grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.
“Let me handle it, landing without damaging the boat is a heavy task. Mark the island on the map, it might be important.” He told you, and you immediately relaxed, turning to look through your bags for the map. You trusted Bruno entirely. After all, he would never hurt you. He would never lie to you. If only you weren’t so trusting that you didn’t look up to see the tentacles surrounding the boat.
“Tesoro, I’m so sorry I had to do things like this.” You turned to ask what on earth he meant, before Bruno lunged at you, wrestling you down onto the wooden floor of the boat. You screamed out, squirming and trying to struggle. Bruno has never been this strong, his nails never this sharp, his eyes never this wild. When you looked into them, a fear you never even had was realized, Bruno’s eyes reflecting the ever changing colors of the ocean in a way that only one creature’s could. A Beast.
“No, no! Let me go, this isn’t real! What did you do to Bruno?!” You cried out, trying to squirm out of the terrible grasp of this beast in Bruno’s place.
“Please, calm down Tesoro. It’s me, it’s always been me. I’m so sorry I had to lie to you like this, I never meant to hurt you. Please, you’re breaking my heart.” He crooned, and at one point, that might’ve been enough to calm you. But you knew those words were meant to twist you up, meant to calm you, even though you had the instinct that they were true.
“Breaking your heart?! You lied to me, made me believe you were a human being, all to eat me! You’re not just a beast, you’re a monster! I hate you, I really do hate you!” You screamed, only for Bruno to growl, his claws digging into your wrists.
“You don’t hate me. I know you love me. I know it.” Bruno’s voice was scaring you, his teeth growing sharper by the minute. His grip loosened when you finally whimpered out in pain, blood being drawn at your wrists. He took a deep breath, attempting to explain himself. “I didn’t lie, I was human when you first met me, honest to god. I changed in the Rose garden. That encounter with the beast was enough to turn me into one, it seemed. At first, I didn’t know what I would do. I was in despair over losing my humanity, over losing my chance to leave this place. But…” Bruno reached a hand to run along your cheek, wiping a tear you didn’t know you shed.
“You kept my soul human. You’re my salvation, (Y/N). When the Blood Beast almost had you, I realized that I could never let go. When we reached the ocean, I realized that this was meant to be my territory. That once I entered into it, I would never be able to escape it. But… You’ll be here with me. You’ll be here, with me, forever!” Bruno’s smile was terrifying, leaving you just to gulp. He was a beast, alright, and one of the most terrifying you had ever met.
“B-Bruno… I love you, I really do, but you have to let me go… I have to escape here. I can’t spend the rest of my life in this Labyrinth.” You told him, but Bruno only smiled and shook his head.
“Oh, Tesoro. Now that I have you, I’ll never let you go. I love you. If you’re here, I’ll be able to survive an eternity in this ocean. It’ll be a paradise of our own making.” Bruno declared. The tentacles that came from under the ship started to tear it apart, leaving wood chips in its wake as Bruno pulled you under the water, pressing his lips against yours. There was nothing you could do to resist as the two of you began to sink into the icy depths. The last thing you saw before you fell into another slumber was Bruno’s eyes, ever changing and always adoring.
They were as black as the depths he pulled you into.
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afterhoursfic · 4 years ago
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what about eskel as the kaer morhen's sex toy? eskel doesn't get enough dick while he's out on the path and the other wolves (including vesemir, maybe) are happy to have a few nice warm holes to use whenever they feel like it, whatever eskel's doing at the time. and it's not like he has a problem waking up full of cock.
All plot and little porn makes jack a dull boy but oh well. Honestly, I’m in love with this idea and don’t have the proper words to say so but Eskel as nothing more than a hole for his brothers to use is perfection.
I’ve also added Vesemir, there’s no explicit fucking between the two but he just gives Eskel a helping hand here and there.
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Normally, when he found himself on the last stretch up to the gates of Kaer Morhen he felt the stresses of the past year slowly melt away almost as if it was taking a deep sigh before he could finally relax. This year was different though, instead, his body felt tight and uncomfortable, itchy almost and no matter what he tried he couldn’t make that feeling go away.
He knew the cause of it, of course, It had been just over a year since he last shared a bed, or hell even a hand with someone, and the winter months would only add to that growing timeline. To some, it was a stupid thing to get worked up over but in all that time he had never been truly satisfied, his hand barely took off the edge and often left him feeling worse than before, couple that with almost every brothel kicking him out on sight and having to hear his brothers forays under the sheets meant he was in for a shit few months.
Sure it had never been easy to find a partner, even less so after he got the scars that littered the side of his face but there was always someone who wanted to try their luck with him, to brag about the fact they took a witcher to bed, and yet it seemed his luck had run out.
When he finally passed the gates to the keep he only spared his brothers and Vesemir a quick nod as he settled Scorpion in the stables, if they noticed anything was odd they didn’t say it, but he could feel their eyes boring into him all the same.
After that he eagerly made his way back to his rooms, ignoring Lambert’s attempt to goad him into a game of Gwent, and giving a grunt when Vesemir announced food would be ready in an hour. Once he was behind a closed door he first went to his trunk and dug through it until he found the wooden cock, he’d bought on a whim decades ago now.
It wasn’t the first one he’d owned but he quickly learned not to take it out on the path with him between the monsters that always seemed to damage his belongings and the people who liked to kick him out of towns when he came back from a job, sans his bags, he decided it would just be easiest to leave it here, the worst that could happen would be if Lambert found it and paraded that bit of information.
Now though all he wanted was to get off, to try and ease the edge off, and so he quickly stripped before he almost tore his bag searching for the small vial of oil. In record time he had two fingers slicked and pressing into him, only doing himself the barest courtesy of prepping himself before he was slicking up the wooden cock and pressing it into him.
It felt good for all of a second, to have something other than his fingers pressing into himself, but it still wasn’t a real cock and even as he began to fuck himself and aimed it towards his prostate, he felt little relief. He knew he wouldn’t be satisfied by the end, but he was here now so may as well come, so with one hand fucking the dildo into himself and the other stripping his cock he soon came with a groan and sure enough, he just felt worse afterwards, unsettled almost, and it was only by tossing the wooden cock into the corner of the room that stopped him from destroying it with a blast of igni.
He could feel the frown on his face as he got up to grab a cloth to clean himself before dressing again, could feel the way his muscles bunched up under his skin, coiled tight as if ready for a fight and he knew he had to watch himself tonight lest he gets riled up at his brothers and lash out them before Vesemir forced him to say what afflicted him. He definitely did not want to be having that conversation with any of them, especially as he pictured Lambert’s grinning face.
Dinner was a tense affair, for him at least, offering nothing but grunts here and there as his brothers spoke a little of their own adventures over the past year, apparently, Geralt and Lambert had worked a job together and not only that but Geralt had met an interesting woman by the name Countess Mignole, who Vesemir had had a dalliance with in the past and even got chased out the woman’s window when caught. Any other time he would probably enjoy his brother’s ribbing of their mentor but now all he wanted was the privacy of his room, in fact, he only stayed as long as his food and drink lasted before he bade them farewell and went left for another very unsatisfying hand job before he went back to bed.
The next couple of weeks weren’t any easier on him. During training he lashed out, normally so controlled and level-headed, now he let his emotions get the better of him by constantly using aard to fling his brothers, and one time Vesemir, across the courtyard just to feel something satisfying, and it was satisfying the first few times, but that soon lost its appeal, not that he stopped doing it though.
Of course, he was chastised, most of their training was supposed to be without signs and even then they were only used to disarm and throw each other off, nowhere close to genuinely hurting one another, but watching Geralt, the famed white wolf be thrown back against the keep’s wall definitely helped him.
Mealtimes were no better, most of the time he could skirt by the others to pick up a bit of food from the kitchen, ignoring their lingering stares and attempts at conversation as he just wanted to eat and get on with the day. Dinner though he couldn’t avoid and would often watch his brothers, well mostly Lambert, get exceedingly drunk on his shitty vodka and bragging about the men and women he bedded, and how more than half of them had come to him begging he takes them to bed.
He wasn’t jealous, or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself, but whenever the conversation turned his way it usually ended with him telling them to fuck off before he stomped off to his room. Okay so maybe he was a little jealous.
It all culminated one night when he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t get comfortable no matter what he did, and was filled with the sort of energy that was slowly making him crazy so that he was ready to tear down the walls of this keep just to get rid of it.
He wasn’t that stupid or desperate, yet, and so he simply picked up his sword and headed down to the courtyards, the faint light of dawn beginning to peek over the castle walls as he struck his sword down against the first training dummy.
He watched it crack and fall apart under his sword in a matter of blows and soon moved onto the next one and the next until a shout rung out behind him.
“That’s enough, wolf” He turned to hurl a snarl towards Vesemir but at the sight of the older witcher, of the stance that brooked absolutely no argument, he bit his tongue and instead dropped his sword to the floor, a mistake clearly as he heard Vesemir’s scowl “That’s no way to treat your weapon, wolf, have I taught you nothing”
With a put-upon sigh, he bent down to pick up the blade and didn’t bother to look up as he started to walk back to his rooms to try for the hundredth time to get some sort of relief until he felt a hard hand on his shoulder, a touch that practically branded him even through his clothes and he hated that his knees felt just a little weak, gods when was the last time he had been touched.
He doesn’t even fight it when Vesemir forces him to his knees, just settles on his knees, face cast down as he waits for his punishment. What he doesn’t expect though is a gentle hand lifting his head up and the almost assessing gaze from the other witcher before Vesemir hums to himself and tilts his head in question “When’s the last time you were fucked?”
He doesn’t bother answering, just clenches his jaw and stares back up at Vesemir, which is answer enough apparently as the older witcher just frowns down at him “I’ll leave the boys to it, they’ve been clamoring to get into bed with you since you arrived”
That gets his attention. Sure the three of them had slept together before, when the days were dark and cold and the nights even more so and they needed a brother’s warmth to take the chill from their bones, but it had been years since they’d done anything together, at least for him. Ever since he’d gotten the scars stretching across his face he’d kept to himself, saw the way people flinched and pulled away from him, and he couldn’t bear that from his brothers.
The thought was pushed aside when he felt a pressure at his cock and he looked down to see Vesemir’s boot against the line of his cock, hard against his breeches for gods knew how long and he couldn’t help the moan that broke free as he thrust against the pressure once, and then again and again until he humping Vesemir’s boot, the only thought of moremoremore until he felt a gentle hand card through his hair and it was that that did him in, that had him come with a shout and caused a sizeable wet spot to stain the front of his pants until he was left panting and limp.
The next thing he knows he’s inside the great hall and is being handed off to Geralt and not much longer he’s in a bed with far too many hands pulling at his clothes, turning to see Lambert behind him, but he can’t even say anything before he feels a finger circling his rim before pushing in.
It’s as if all the air leaves him then and all he can do is hold onto Geralt in front of him as he’s fucked on two, then three, then four fingers. He comes again as a fifth finger teases his hole and it earns a chuckle from his brothers.
He whines when he feels the fingers pull out, but he can’t even comment when suddenly he’s being moved onto his front, on his elbows over Geralt with his ass up before Lambert slides into him. His groan is cut off when a forceful hand in his hair is pulling him down and suddenly his mouth is full of Geralt’s cock, barely able to stop himself from choking on it.
Between the two of them, they figure out a rhythm so that he’s either sinking down onto Geralt or pushed back onto Lambert, filled from both ends for the first time in decades, and he’s almost shameful to say how much he missed this, how much he missed being fucked and moved around as if he were nothing but a hole.
He could feel his mind go hazy with it, just let himself relax as he let them use him how they pleased, whether that was by forcing his mouth onto their cocks until they stretched the back of his throat and left him gagging and struggling for air, or using all the strength and stamina they possessed to fuck into his ass for hours until he was an aching, come-filled mess, and even then begging for more.
He’d lost count of how many orgasms he’d had, only knew that a hand hadn’t touched his cock once and yet it was still hard and flushed red, even as another dry orgasm shook through him and wring out another orgasm from both Lambert and Geralt with muttered swears about what a needy slut he was, how he wanted to be their breeding bitch for the winter and couldn’t go a minute without a cock in him.
In dispersed between the moments of brutal fucking that left him a weak, begging mess, were softer moments that were somehow worse, that would have tears at the corner of his eyes if he were able when Geralt slowly fucked into him, oh so careful and gentle as he pressed small kisses along the scars on his face or when Lambert had him pressed face down into the mattress and slowly rolled his hips into him, a comforting weight at his back as he promised to look after him, that they were all he needed.
It was sometime in the early morning when they finally retired to sleep and for the first time in months, he felt relaxed, comforted now that he was surrounded by his brothers, and fell into a restful sleep.
He had half expected that to be it, that they would help him that once to take the edge off, to make him himself again for the rest of the winter lest he physically tear the walls down, and a part of him hurt at the fact but when woke up to an empty bed he didn’t dwell on it.
He took a moment to admire the bruises and scratches littered on him, even the ache that seemed to stretch across his whole body when he stood up before making his way to the kitchen for food and then probably back to his own bed for some more much-needed rest.
That plan was derailed as soon as he stepped into the kitchen, Vesemir working over the stove making some sort of stew for dinner, whilst Geralt and Lambert sat at the small table, Lambert finishing off his breakfast before they all turned to look at him.
The next thing he knew Geralt was up and pushing him back onto the table, quick hands removed his trousers and two fingers pushed into his swollen rim still leaking their come from only a few hours before. He couldn’t keep back the moan in the back of his throat before suddenly Geralt pulled his fingers out to be replaced by his cock.
That’s how he found himself being fucked over the breakfast table, his brothers chatting amicably with each other whilst he was reduced to a desperate wanton mess under Geralt’s hands. He was only half-hard by the time he felt Geralt come into him, how he still had anything left was a surprise to him but he was left panting and whining for more when the other witcher pulled out of him, but he wasn’t left long when he felt Lambert move by his head.
Lambert’s breakfast seemingly finished he was shifted on the table until his table was hanging off of one end and soon Lambert’s cock was teasing at his mouth and with a hum, he began to suck down the younger witcher’s cock. So focused on just how good it was to have a cock in him first thing in the morning, he jumped when he felt rough hands pinch at his nipples, the mix of pain and pleasure sending a shiver through him as he heard Vesemir chuckle above him, but that didn’t stop the older witcher until he was coming with a shudder with Lambert’s cock so far down his throat he was struggling to breathe.
There was a passing remark from Vesemir to clean up whatever mess they made as he left, and then it was just the three of them, Lambert finished soon after with a growl and he was promptly settled back onto Geralt’s cock, now sat on the bench whilst he ate breakfast, and when down pushed face-first onto the table and fucked within an inch of his life before he and Geralt were coming together with a shout.
The following weeks had the same pattern, namely the three of them using them however they wanted, well mainly Geralt and Lambert.
Occasionally Vesemir would find him and offer his boot for him to hump or a hand for him to fuck into, one time he was even given a pillow to rub his cock against whilst he was kneeling between the other witchers legs, yellow eyes boring into him the whole while and after offered a gentle hand and a kind word before being sent on his way.
His brothers were more forceful, insistent in their need, namely, they’d push him against any surface they could, sparing a couple of fingers to prep him, not that they needed it given how often he was on one of their cocks, always open and dripping come. It didn’t matter what he was doing, whether it was reinforcing the walls around the keep, or repairing the fence around the stables.
Normally he could hear them coming and was able to at least move to a somewhat softer surface before he was shoved face-first to the ground and his clothes all but torn off of him. Not that he had any complaints, he was the most rested he’d been all year and there were truly no words to describe how good it felt to be wanted and craved, to be woken up with Lambert cock’s fucking his hole, all the while telling him how good his hole felt clenched around his cock, how desperate he was for them all, that they could bend him over anywhere and he’d beg to fucked like needy bitch he is.
It’s when Lambert calls him a pretty, little cum dump that he comes, only his brother is long from over and instead, he’s shushed back into sleep whilst Lambert continues rocking into him and when he wakes in the morning he can feel the come spill down his thighs, but he’s only given a minute to admire it before Geralt is pushing him onto his back and forcing his legs wide so that he can push his own cock into his hole.
He almost mourns the end of winter. Whilst he’s itching to get back out on the path he’s not looking forward to leaving his brothers, to go through another year of villager’s ire and even less of their coin, but especially without the feel of his brothers fucking him like they’re desperate for him. It’s not that he’s obsessed, well maybe a little, but now that he’s had a taste of being nothing but a hole to be used whenever someone wants now, he needs more like it’s a physical ache.
So when Geralt asks for his help on a big contract he’d heard about on the way up to the keep, how can he refuse when it means he gets even longer to be nothing more than a cock dumb hole meant to be fucked.
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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago
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House of Mouse: Mickey and the Culture Clash (Commission by WeirdKev27) or “What the Hell, Clarabelle?”
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Hello, hello, hello... I wish I could say I was in good spirits but i’m tired, have covid induced chills running down my spine.. and oh yeah there was an armed insurrection i the captial last night that showed just how broken this country was. And while Monster Bash would still be relevant... I couldn’t do it. I admit to being unable to do an episode where the millitant racist nutjob who harms people runs off into the night, and does much worse in later episodes, while the people she harassed are arrested the night after a bunch of millitant, racist, sociopathic, selfish nightmares sieged the captial, killed a woman, raised the fucking maga flag over the buildling and took pictures like they were goddamn heroes.  We got a stark reminder, not a wake up call, not an opening a REMINDER of just how badly broken our country is last night, and it wasn’t till this morning I found out just how BAD it was. The deaths, the flag, the fact josh fucking hawley, MY STAT’ES SENATOR and registered piece of shit, raised  A FUCKING FIST IN SOLIDARITY, which gives me the crippling fear his stupidity and unabashed racisim and support of a cou could mean riots at best and attempted uprisings at worst and who knows what kind of hate crimes against those of color and those in my own queer community. I am afraid, tired, and I am pissed and I feel we could ALL use something wholesome, warm and far removed from the shit going on. And in my hour of need to figure out something like that to put on the schedule.. Kev brought up a wonderfufl idea.  Every month this month till the end of it Kev is going to comission one episode of a show near and dear to both our hearts that has it’s 20th birthday this month. House of Mouse. He was intitally going to request Pete’s One Man Show, which is one of my faviorites, but was ironcially one I already planned to cover next month to celebrate both the show’s anniversary and Pete’s Birthday. But since he was happy to wait till then to comission it, he instead asked for another classic and one with easily my faviorite character on the show: Moritmer Mouse. 
One of the best things House of Mouse did was bring back Mortimer Mouse. Introduced in Mickey’s Rival, Mortimer was an ex of minnies who showed up for one short to be a dick to mickey before running off and leaving Minnie at the mercy of a bull he pissed off. He also weirdly kept electrodes and a car battery in his pants. The short itself is.. not great mostly because Minnie dimissies Mickey rightfully being pissed someone is hitting on his girlfriend in front of him, making jokes at his expense, and generally being a pillock as being jealous... which yeah, yeah he is. Most of the time jealousy and supscison of your partner is ugly, gross and damaging to a relationship.  You should trust them unless you’ve been given good reason not to, and if your paranoidly jealous about every friend she has she could be attracted to.. get some fucking help. Seriously, I need to, not for this for various other problems, but get some therapy to help with your trust issues or if your just being the kind of dick who naturally assumes men and women or men and men or women and women or men and nonibinary persons, or women and nonbinary peeps and so on and so on cannot be friends if they could possibly be togehter romantically... grow up.  I say all of that because those are serious underlying issues and I didn’t want it to seem like for a moment I was supporting them... and because sometimes i’ts OKAY to be jealous, to either just feel a little jealous of someone, or to you know be irate because your girlfriend’s ex is hitting on her in front of you and she’s being entirely receptive to it. 
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So yeah i’ts really hard to feel bad for minnie’s bull attack or find the ending sweet after Minnie was you know, what ramona said for an entire short. However my point for this rant, besides giving out about the short again because I clearly didn’t enough in my Mickey Birthday Special, is that Mortimer is still pretty great. He’s a frat bro in the 40′s sense sure, but the idea of a local douche hoping to swoop in and woo minnie away, who has an oddly specific sense of humor and a bizzare, memorable and wonderful walk, seriously the short is worth watching for mortimier’s “I got two car batteris in my pants’ walk, is a good one. While he’d naturally show up in comics and what have you Mortimer just sort of vanished. But clearly someone on the House of Mouse staff, and Mousewerks before it, agreed because Morty was made easily one of the best and most recurring characters in the HOM, and often more prominent than Horace or Gus. While he still tried his old “I’m gonna do your common law wife act” a few times he was mostly there to be an annoying douche when the ep needed one and to be taken down a peg by everyone in the house. And that VERY MUCH includes Mickey. That’s also part of why I love this show bringing him back: It gives Mickey someone besides pete to give out too on a regular basis. He’s still his charming self about it but it’s lovelyt os ee Mickey sarcastically roast someone. And I honestly attribute the main factor of his sucess on the show to VA Maurice LaMarche. While his original VA, Sonny Dawson, was fantastic.. it’s Maurice who very clearly made the character his. While others like Jeff Bennet have taken over since i’ts Maurice who gave him his signature “ha-cha-cha” catchphrase, swagger and signiture voice. And no i’ts not lost on me that one of Maurice’s OTHER best roles is another cartoon mouse.. and I now very badly want him to meet Pinky and the Brain. But yeah, Maurice just oozes the smarm that defines mortimer for me, oozes condescinon and assholery and he, is., glorious. He was a faviorite as a kid, he’s a faviorite now, and Disney needs to use him more.. and also have Maurice voice him for wonderufl world of mickey mouse, though Jeff Bennett is not bad at all I just prefer the master at the role. 
So obviously, after the nightmare of an evening america had yesterday, an episode not only about how wholesome mickey and minnie are but about Mickey teaming up with Mortimer was EXACTLY what i needed. So pitter patter, this is Mickey and the Culture clash. As always for house of mouse i’ll be chonking it up and since this one starts right with the wraparound, and sicnce you know I spent a godo few pagraphs going over mortimer and he’s only IN the wraparound this episode... let’s start there
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Mickey and the Culture Clash: Don’t Go Changin, To Try and Please Me So we open the episode and the review proper with Mickey performing a banjo sernade for Minnie, their song in fact. It’s a really sweet scene.. that’s quickly ruined by Clarabelle being an asshole, who says i’ts a bit crude. Minnie counters that while “It’s not mozart”, it’s nice and she clearly likes it and the gesture. Instead of you know leaving it there like a good friend, like she’s SUPPOSED to be to Minnie in most continuities, Clarabelle.. takes the things she said and her having to run out to wrangle pluto out of context, painting it as her thinking he’s not sophisticated and then running out because of it. Oh and she tops it by pointing to a classified add from a MM looking for sophisticated companionship. 
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It just paints Clarabelle not as Minnie’s friend or a chatty gossip, but as a heartless bitch who has no trouble implying one of her best friends would cheat on her boyfriend TO HIS FACE, and is fine wrecking a perfectly lovely relationship just to have more to talk about. Seriously she starts gossiping to everybody on top of it just in case you thought Clarabelle was a decent person in any shape this episode. She’s the one thing about this episode that dosen’t work despite being integral to it.. well two but hte other thing is a small, end of episode gag we’ll get to. This.. this is an integral part of the plot. It also relies on Daisy and Donald being absent for the episode for what I can only assume is their annual sex decathalon because otherwise the second she heard about her friend doing this, before reassuring Minnie, Donald would be holdiing her while Daisy beat the absolute shit out of her for hurting thier closest friend and not bothering to take a look into anything when leveling such a rough accusation at Minnie. In a really stellar, really well paced episode, Clarabelle being so heartless stands out. It’s also, might as well get this out of the way, teh final episode not inlcuding the two holiday specials.. and it’s a good note to go out on otherwise, I just can’t ignore the obnoxious cow in the room.. in both senses of the word. 
So yeah Mickey’s trying to be fancy, and Mortimer gets a good dig in about him reading “You having trouble sounding out the words”, but once he hears what’s going on, or rather once he realizes mickey things Mortimer’s personal add is in fact his girlfriend cheating on him, he decides to help Mickey. And to his credit for this con.. Mortimer actually thought things out on how to trick his rival, and his plan here is douchey as hell but incredibly genius: he offers to help mickey and while that’d normally be suspcious he offers a genuine, and very mortimer explination for helping him become a bit more sophisticated to win minnie back: if Minnie finds a handsome, sophisticated guy to date, what chance does MORTIMER have against that? At least with Mickey, in his deluded egocentric view of things anyway, he has a shot at beating him. 
So Mickey classes it up a bit, taking some sopshitcated stances when announcing and trying to woo minnie by talking in ye olde english. When that fails, she just finds it silly but charming, Mickey finds Jose.. hitting on her.
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Just.. I expect better from you man. Woo ladies all you like as long as your respectful but I expect better than to hit on someone else’s girlfriend.. which granted he has but given the last time we saw him do that, he nearly got stabbed a bunch and the last time he agressively hit on a woman he got punched in the beak as he should, you’d THINK he’d of learned something. Seriously once again Donald is only missing because this time Daisy would be holding Jose down while Donald hit him. Or possibly they’d take turns. Point is Jose REALLY shoudln’t be doing this and knows better.. marginally. But.. it is in character enough so ti’s not as bad as Clarabelle the homewrecker. 
So Mickey tries being fancy and goes on to do poetry instead of letting O’Malley and the Alley Cats play.. which is a nice running gag the series does as they NEVER get to play.. which while funny is a shame since I love the Aristocats. So then we finally get what Mortimer’s been playing at, he swoops in, claims MICKEY dosen’t need HER, and uses the same personal add to trick her. See, while what Mortimer’s doing is vile.. unlike clarabelle I can repsect it at least. I don’t condone it and i’m glad he gets foiled.. but as a bad guy plan it’s pretty clever and for someone like Mortimer whose usually pretty incompitent.. it’s pretty suprising he could pull this off. It’s still pretty damn low and scummy, no question, but props to being able to outwit and nearly outplay two people who deal with your crap on a regular basis and still convincingly conning both.  Thankfully while he tries to take Minnie out Mickey, in a great visual gag, puts two and two together, and busts out their song, with Mickey and Minnie heartwearmingly reuniting on stage as seen above. Then we get that gag I mentioned not liking: Mickey gets Morty back by planting a false marriage proposal from Moritmer to Clarabelle, again under MM and he gets carried off.. HAHA HE’S BEING FORCED INTO A MARRIAGE HE DOSEN’T. LAUGH. LAUGH AT IT. The gag just really hasn’t aged well, as otherwise it’s clever Mickey used Mortimer’s own trick against both him and the person who caused all of this but really.. Clarabelle gets no real compuance. At worse sshe finds out she was tricked.. but she again you know tried to break up her close friends relationship for shits and giggles. But .. it’s at the very end of the episode and very easy to ignore, so it dosen’t really bother me too bad, and compared to some gags of the type i’ve seen, it could be MUCH worse.  Overall this wraparound is one of the series best and a good one to go out on. it has a simple premise, a brilliant antagonist plot, some great bits from all involved, and even a great Belle and Beast cameo. All in all a really good wraparound only hampered by a sexist and dated ending and Clarabelle being portrayed as ...
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She’s the worst, in the world. Okay onto the shorts.
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Mickey’s Piano Lesson: That was a Fun One
It really was. It’s a simple premise: Minnie wants MIckey to do a piano recital and he decides “I don’t need practice i’m mickey mouse. “ And it’s REALLY nice to have a short that has, rather than aw shucks mickey, shenanigans mickey. While thanks to the new shorts we’ve had tons, it’s still nice to get one in the House of Mouse era, and it’s just fun to see Mickey take the usual donald roll of letting his overconfidence punch him in the face> It fits both though: Both are everyman and while I lean towards the duck, to no one’s shock, Mickey is just as capable, and his lack of practice comes off less like the angry and hostile way donald would dismiss it and mroe just loveable procastination. And as someone who REALLY struggles with procastination I related to this short, as Mickey does everything else he’d rather do from bathing the dog to skydiving till Minnie, in a great bit informs him everyone from the president, to several dignitaries from other countries, to a televised audience will see. We then get two really great and really beatuifully animated bits as MIckey wrestles with the notes on thep age then fights with his piano as he performs, still pulling it off but destroying the thing and rightfully earning a glare form his girlfriend. Just a fun, slapstick short with a great premise. 
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Dance of the Goofys: Scary Children Set to classical music, this one has a bunch of goofys as Fairy’s, who are making the flowers go and the one who sleeps in ends up saving the king from a horrifing looking little brat. He reminds me of Montanna Max a bit.. speaking of which Creer Summer recnetly announced Elmyra won’t be in the reboot. And while this does make me fear actually good characters like Fifi, Montana Max, and more will be cut like the animanics reboot and I do feel for Cree not getting to be involved and hope they find another roll for her as, given her status in the industry she deserves better.. THANK FUCKING GOD. I’ll go into this in another review I have planned for the future but unlike the cuts made to animaniacs this was a REALLY good decision i’m really greatful for. Thank you crew thank you. 
Back on topic, it’s just a fun, really beautifully animated short about the goofies and hteir shenanigans with a really great high concept. 
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Maestro Minnie: Brahm’s Lullabye: Simply Irresitable Another simple but clever and lovely to watch one, and one I like quite a bit more. Minnie is conducting some living violins to Brahm’s Lullabye to get a baby Violin to sleep, and we get some really beautiful shots of her as she does so.. only to get comically interuppted by other insteruments turning up the noise. Not much to say on this one as it’s short and simple.. but sometimes short and simple is just what you need and the fun premise nad really beautiful especially for tv animation at the time visuals really sell this one.  ONce again, good stuff. 
Overall: This was a REALLY good note to go out on. While as I said the Clarabelle stuff can eat my entire ass, everything else is really damn good and I highly recommend checking this one out. Next time, in about a month, we’ll be looking at Pete’s spotlight episode for his birfday. While you wait tommorow we have my first look at legend of the three cabs. But for now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. 
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darkrimmedeyes · 5 years ago
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So yeah I've been pretty down lately so this is very self insertish, as always no gender pronounce or physical descriptions.
Loneliness
The darkness was suffocating.
The silence deafening as the white noise buzzed in your ears.
You felt numb.
Drained.
Tired.
Starring at your wall, your body curled into itself under the blanket, everything felt so cold. You slowly contemplated calling for him, would he even be able to understand? He was never the type of person to show empathy beyond a simple hug when your day was particularly stressful. Beetlegeuse was more the type of person that offered a form of distraction, maybe you could get something out of it, usually the ghost wasn't one to shy down from sharing his alcohol or weed, at the very least he could give you a good, hard fuck. At least something to make you forget about the loneliness, if only temporarily but then what? Could you even ask that of him? Of course you longed for him to actually comfort you, you wanted him to care the way you cared about him, hell, you weren´t even sure what the two of you were. Friends with benefits? Lovers? Fuck buddies? Partners? Probably the first option, afterall he did seem to like your company most of the time. Realizing that gave you the final push you needed to call him.
His name fell from your chewed up lips three times and as expected he was already holding a bottle of what you assumed hard alcohol in his hand when he appeared in your bedroom, hopefully you hadn't pulled him out of some party or poker game again. He looked around for a moment but quickly realized where he was, he often ended up in your bedroom. He grinned at you until he sensed that something was wrong.
"Jeez babes, ya look like ya haven't slept in days, is something the matter?". He sat the alcohol down on your drawer to sit down on the bed with you, blocking your view from the wall.
You didn't answer but you hesitantly scooted closer to him until you could grasp his cold clawed hand, it was so big compared to yours. He let you, curling his fingers around yours with a surprising tenderness, he had never seen you like this before and he didn't like it.
"Baby, common what's wrong? Did someone hurt ya?". The way he said those words of care and protection gave you butterflies, it was so out of his usual behavior.
You shook your head, moving your thumb over his skin, he watched you, trying to figure out why you were so misserable. Gently he tilted your chin up, his pointy nails lightly pressed into your skin so you wouldn´t turn away from him. you tried to glare at him but you didn´t have the inner strenght to actually do so. 
“Do you wanna talk about why ya so upset? And don´t even think about givin´ me that “i´m fine” crap I can tell ya ain´t”. He held your chin a bit tighter to amplify the words.
You scoffed. As much as you would have loved to seek comfort in him you knew that Beetlegeuse rarely cared about the feelings of others, let alone when they were upset. Of course he wasn´t a monster, he was simply a selfish prick.
“Beej please...I know you don´t like it when people get emotional around you. You don´t need to act like this, just give me a swig of whatever alcohol you brought with you.”
Beetlejuice winced, now he was sure that something bad must be going on to make you sound this tired, strained and even cynical. One of his favorite things about you was your personality, he liked your cheerful enthusiasm, your joy and ecitment, something the neitherworld would never be able to offer the way a breather could.
“What the fuck do ya mean, what's gotcha acting like this?”. He looked almost offended once he realized what you were implying.  “Ya think i don´t give a shit about ya baby?”. The contrast between his crude choices of word, terms of affection and the concern on his face almost made you laugh. 
“Can you blame me for thinking you don´t? You´re always the one telling me that breather´s are so annoying with their problems, that we are pathetic and weak. I know you don´t mean to offend me, obviously you have to at least tollerate me but still, I´m a breather Beej, with stupid problems and issues and I thought that maybe you could indulge me in some distraction”. You felt tears burning in your eyes and tried to keep them at bay, not wanting to let him see how much you were hurting.
He of course noticed but instead of pressing further he layed down as well, pulling you to his broad frame until you were pressed against his side, he looked at the ceiling, a cigarette that you knew wouldn`t smell or make breathing for you harder appeared in his mouth. You felt a wave of warmth grow in you, usually he´d only hold you like this after you had sex with him or when he was feeling particulary jealous or possesive. It felt nice, it felt good.
“Look baby I know I´m a massive dick but ya can always talk ta me. I know that I might come across like I don´t care and usually I don´t but...I care about you, alright? I may not know what ta say or just whatcha goin´n through but I´m here for ya, I know what it feels like, to be alone”.
He pulled the collar of his suit down, exposing a fainted bruised ring around his neck, you had never noticed it before. You didn´t know what to say so you instead held him tighter to you, softly letting your tears trickle down your face and stain his jacket.
“Ya don´t have ta tell me what´s goin´ through your head if ya don´t want to. I just want ya to promise me that you´re gonna call me when ya feel like this again ok? I care about ya and..hell maybe I even love ya, you´re my babe and I don´t wanna find ya in the lost soul room.”
You looked at him. Did he just confess his love to you? You nodded against him and once again sought his hand out to entertwine his long cold fingers with yours. Softly you brought them to your face and ghosted your lips to his hand in a chaste kiss.
“I love you too...thank you...for caring”.
He squeezed your hand and layed them on his chest. A small smile pulled at your lips.
The loneliness was gone.
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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years ago
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Why not kill two birds with one stone?
---
The way they'd established supply runs was an intricate ordeal. It was an effort split between a group and a solo act of sorts, with the group scavenging for anything useful (like food , tools, or any bits and bobs that might come in handy later) while one lone soul would run around leading the Ink Demon in circles to keep it well away from the supply run's path. That "morning", after the usual breakfast of bacon soup, stale coffee and ink brew, Henry had assigned the roles through the drawing of straws (actually just pieces of paper he'd tried to cut as evenly as possible) among the few toons that did not have a particular task to complete for the day. Norman, Buddy, Shawn and Grant had thusly ended up together as a group, while Sammy was the unfortunate bait of the day. Not that he had any trouble getting around mind you... He could run faster now that he had a stable body, and he knew the layout of the top floors pretty well now that some of his memories as the Prophet ressurfaced. He could also sense the demon's presence more acutely so he could run circles around the damn thing without it realizing it was being duped.
Overall it was a solid team. Too solid even.
Which of course called for some action on 'Wally's part.
'Wally' had it all figured out or at least that's what he liked to think. He was, for a matter of lack of words, a wolf in sheep's clothing... Or... a sheep in wolf's clothing? Or was it an idea in sheepish wolf's clothing?
Ok maybe he didn't have it all figured out, but who cared? He didn't have to do the big thinking anyway because there were two people doing that for him anyways. All he really needed to do was play is part as the clumsy but charming guy that got everyone else to laugh. Get all cozy and cute with these people and get the plot running real smooth without them realizing it.
Simple in theory but very difficult in practice for, you see, 'Wally' was the idea of Wally Franks constructed in the image of an off-model Boris with a goofy grin, a Brooklyn accent, and a love for pranks and foods he'd never tasted before. Every single tape the Ink could find it used to create him. Including one very specific trait: Wally Franks was a bit of a dick sometimes, but he was genuinely nice to those he care for. And it just so happened he cared for all these other dicks who were currently living cartoon characters. Yes even Sammy Stick-Up-The-Ass Lawrence... What a dang predicament...
Sabotaging them on Joey's and the Ink's command was getting harder and harder each time, and both his creators were not happy with this.
He either did as he was told, or he'd be in a world of trouble. He needed to do something big, and fast!
Thus came the idea to sabotage the supply run. A plan that quickly went off the rails big time because he'd turned off his brain for just a second...
Sneaking off was really easy. Tom had told him to fasten some of the bolts on the less stable pipes upstairs and, after some very convincing grumbling under his breath, he'd gone up to do just that. Except he kept on walking right past where his stop was at. He had eyes on a much bigger task than fiddling with some faulty pipework that was gonna burst later anyways.
Sammy was awfully suspicious of him, so 'Wally' made sure to wait around to check where he was headed before searching the upper floors for Norman's crew. The Ink had whispered to him, told him that if he took Polk's reels he'd be able to cut the run short and force them to go back. Then the Ink would simply scare off Sammy by leading the demon straight to him when he least expected it.
He'd stupidly not questioned why taking the reels would force the group back. He'd been too curious to see what was on them anyways to consider they might be important to Norman in a physical sense.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Anyone else feeling a bit watched?" Grant whispered as 'Wally' crept around from within the walls, keeping his eye on the prize. Polk had fastened the reels into place before leaving, so snatching them off without being noticed wasn't going to be easy. He wasn't a dull joe, however, so he got around that issue with quite the clever grift.
Some of the walls were rotten from being soaked with ink for so long, so one careful tug was all he needed to make a part of the wall and ceiling collapse.
"Watch out!" The object-head toon turned around to shield his partners, blocking their view and being unable to see as 'Wally' quickly descended upon him and took both items in one swift motion. Using the dust clouds and sound of crunching wood as cover to flee from the scene.
As easy and sweet as pie! He could already hear his creators praising him for the good job. Now to figure out what was so damn important about these dang films that Polk obcessed over them so much...
As soon as he'd found a projector he popped them in and eagerly awaited a show. The first few minutes of footage confused him, as he wasn't seeing cartoons but real human people. Then a few more minutes of this strange "real people film" made him realize it wasn't some fictional bad soap opera that the projectionist had somehow saved.
These were moments in Norman's life. Norman's memories. They were a part of him.
Which is when 'Wally' realized he fucked up. Wait no, that wasn't true. He realized this when a terrifying roar and three terrified screams shook the halls...
---
Sammy's wool stood on end as soon as he heard the roar just one floor below him. The bellowing of the Projectionist when he was still a feral ink abomination. A screech that had followed him and Jack as they ran like their butts were on fire towards the base where a temporary cage awaited the monster Norman Polk had become.
That screech that was somehow ringing downstairs, diverting the demon's attention from the sheep toon. Something terrible had happened and the others were likely in a world of trouble. He had to move.
Rushing down the stairs Sammy listened to the horrific roars and the screams of his coworkers. He then followed the mess left behind. Splintered doors, broken furniture and a trail of ink. Someone's ink.
Someone was injured while the demon was on the prowl.
He turned a corner and stumbled as he walked into 'Wally'. He was surprised at first, unsure why the cartoon wolf would be all the way upstairs, before his eyes landed on two very familiar blank looking reels. It clicked in his mind that the roars and 'Wally' holding these two items Norman had been protective of were connected somehow.
"You..." He snarled, actually snarled, wool turning to bristled fur on the back of his neck and tip of his tail as anger replaced apprehension.
"I... I can explain!"
"What did you do?!"
"I was... I was fixin' the pipes and a wall collapsed! I swear! I found these and... I think they were Norman's? I figured I might need to give 'em back an--"
"Cut the €π@¶, you're a $#!¥ liar mutt..." Sammy hissed furiously as he grabbed 'Wally' by the ears. "I told Henry you were bad news, but did he listen? No!"
"O-ow Sammy that smarts!"
"Trust me once I tell the others, me pulling on your ears will feel like a light spanking..." The sheep toon began to drag the wolf along, continuing his search for his missing teammates.
His anger dissipating as the trail of ink (blood) continued on. And then it stopped. Right in front a little miracle station situated in a trashed room.
Sammy stared at it for a little while before pressing his head to it. He could hear muffled familiar crying.
"Grant, you in there...?" He called, hoping for anything. A meek yes, a sob, anything...
He didn't expect the station to open up and have two child-sized toons tackle him in desperation.
Shawn and Grant were terrified. Worse yet... Buddy was with them and he did not look well.
'Wally' stared at the heavily wounded toon dog, barely able to look at the extensive damage. The kid was missing chunks for Pete's sake!
"What happened?" Sammy tried to get the others to talk.
"A wall collapsed, and... £¢€&... Oh my god..." Grant was hysterical and Shawn wasn't any better.
"It was mad, madness! I can't... And Norman..."
"Words, use your words, come on! What happened? Where's Norman?!" Sammy insisted, shaking the two smaller toons for good measure. They hiccuped and sobbed, and Grant could barely hold up one of his hands to point to a corner, where a lone projector lay discarded. 'Wally's stomach plummeted at the sight, and Sammy's grip slackened as he realized the implications.
"He went n-nuts... He attacked us! Buddy t-tried to stop him... W-we could barely escape into the station and then... Oh god Sammy, the Demon killed Norman! It just..."
"Head straight off, like he was nothin'!"
The reels clattered to the floor, rolling a few feet to meet with the projector that was spurting ink like a macabre fountain piece. 'Wally' had messed up big time.
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polarishq · 4 years ago
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Meet VIOLET YOUNG. They are THIRTY-FIVE years old and hails from SANTA ROSA, CA. Violet embodies the star, GLOAS. They use she/her pronouns. Their faceclaim is ALISHA BOE.
Gloas reminds me of glass perfume bottles, frayed friendship bracelets, overgrown vines threaded through cemetery gates, sort price: high to low, lace bralettes, a study in survival, neither asking permission nor begging forgiveness, thanks for nothing, a vision board filled with pictures of cities that you’ve only ever visited in your dreams, thorny roses, drinking boxed wine on the beach at 2am, and being willing to risk it all.
BIOGRAPHY
The girl born as Merope Sweetwine can tell you that she knew her parents were both terrible people and that her childhood dreams were filled with plans to leave them both behind. She can tell you horror stories about her mother’s narcissism and her father’s cruelty, how she always knew what sort of monster he was. She can tell you any number of things, but none of them would be true.
Other than having a pretty stupid name (she’s still not sure which parent to blame for that), Merope’s early years aren’t too noteworthy. She thinks her parents were divorced, but it’s also possible that they weren’t together past the point of her conception. She’s never figured out the full story. What she does know is that she grew up in a large, beautiful home, with a filled three-car garage and staff that took care of everything from cleaning to collecting the mail. It never crossed her mind that her mother didn’t have a job to match her expensive taste. It also never crossed her mind how little regard her mother had for her, rarely checking to see if Merope was still there on the rare occasion the two of them went out together. Other parents would clutch their children’s hands and tell them to stay close, but not Helen Sweetwine.
Her father was more myth than fact, someone she only ever spoke to on the phone or saw in fleeting glances on their front porch, talking to her mother at 11pm. An unmarked birthday present left on her desk every year, vague memories of a hand stroking her hair as a toddler. There weren’t any photos in the house for her to know what he looked like, and by the time Merope was old enough to be curious, she’d learned that asking her mother for anything beyond the PIN to her debit card was useless. Helen was physically present and nothing more; her father didn’t even have that much backing him.
By the time adolescence hit, Merope had stopped caring about their absences. She had bigger concerns, like letting boys see her topless so that they would do her homework, or seeing how far she could alter her school uniform before a teacher called her out. Her partner in crime, forever and always, was Light. The two first met at St. Agnes’ Preparatory Academy (the for young witches and wizards went unsaid) as children, and were inseparable right from the start. Light was the only person who knew about Merope’s dissatisfaction with her home life, and Merope was just happy to have a friend. She would’ve taken every last second of her parents’ negligence if she it meant the rest of her life stayed as is. Pretty, young, rich, and with a best friend to conquer the world with.
Until her father came to collect.
She doesn’t remember the date or what she was wearing when she came home that day. She remembers that her lipstick was smudged and that she’d left both her shoes somewhere on the beach. She was due to meet Light for coffee in a few hours. She was seventeen and reckless. But there was a strange man in their sitting room, with her nose and her cheek bones and a voice that said she would be going with him. Merope knew this man was her father. What she didn’t know was how many clearance racks he must’ve scoured you find that audacity.
* She would have gone down biting and screaming (her shoes were too nice to resort to kicking) when her mother finally spoke up. He’s telling the truth dear, she said. You have to go with him, that was the deal, she said. What deal? Using no attempt to paint either of them in a better light, Merope learned the circumstances of her birth. Her mother hadn’t wanted her and would sooner have put her up for adoption had her father not prohibited it (so the audacity wasnt a new development). Instead, they struck up an arrangement. In exchange for large monthly payments, Helen was to raise Merope until her father decided it was time for him to take her in. She wasn’t so much a child as she was a cash cow, given the bare minimum to survive not out of love but out of a desire for her mother to stay draped in expensive jewelry and fancy cars. So that sucked monumental dick.
* She’ll admit it: her main reason for going to as to get away from her mother. And a very ill-conceived notion about what she was getting herself into. Her father was such a mysterious figure throughout her entire life, but when he appeared so normal in front of her, all mystery was gone. Merope had no reason to think him anything less than your average wizard, with some admittedly skewed ideas on parenting. But he couldn’t be dangerous, right? He had still wanted her to some degree so maybe she could get away with attending the same school, drinking overly sweet wine straight from the bottle, and racking up insane credit card amounts on a weekly basis with her friends.
Wrong.
The exact details are fuzzy — a trauma response: you block out the details to make it easier to go about on a daily basis, her therapist might say. Merope does know that it took many fights and an attempt to run away before her father made things very clear. She would do as he said or she would die. Simple as that. Now, Merope loves herself far too much to risk dying for this man, so she just gave in. Let herself become trained in all manner of weapons, learned what it’s like to have complete dominion over someone else’s life. She was used to adrenaline rushes from seeing four digits ring up on the register, but this was something entirely different.
More than the adrenaline, Violet found a beauty in her specific brand of killing. Winding thorns through someone’s veins may be a rather harsh way to kill them, but it did give her some solace. At least she was giving them beauty in death. Flowers blooming through their ribcages, succulents popping up in their gaping mouths. Dark? Twisted? Absolutely. Beautiful? You have no idea.
Her appreciation for the beauty behind her kills is what, she believes, helped her to raise so high in the ranks. Not nepotism. In fact, her father had made it very clear once she was out with the others they none of them could know who she was. It wasn’t necessary, since not even she knew his name, but Merope changed hers either way, if only to distance herself from her mother. Firstly, fuck Merope. If she was going to be a living garden, her name should reflect that. She dropped her last name altogether and became simply Violet. No other details were needed.
To this day, she’s still gobsmacked about how Light came to be roped into it all, and they never did figure out those details. But Light was still her best friend, and considering all of the secrets that had been thrust upon Violet, she needed to share them. Telling Light her father’s identity was mistake number one. Trusting Light to be the same person she knew was mistake number two.
By the time their little group had formed, Violet was willing to do anything to get out. Killing her father — in name if nothing else — was particularly satisfying. Once the idea of freedom was in front of them though, it seemed too foreign to take. Most of them had spent years becoming weapons, and while Violet vaguely recalled watching the sun rise over the beach after a careless teenage night of shenanigans, that life was no longer hers. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t make a life that was.
Her first order of business was to have herself a nice, long shower willer with the most bougie lavender soap she could get ahold of. Second order of business was to figure out her father’s financial situation and promptly cut her mother off from all of his funds. And if someone happened to report her to the IRS about never having reported any of those earnings and being unable to show where they came from.... well, Helen does love fashion, and orange is the new black.
Third order of business was to once again give herself a new name. It wasn’t completely necessary, but it gave her a sense of identity that she’d let slide while under her father’s control. Young is a reminder to herself that while many years of her life may have been lost, she still has time ahead of her. And in between their small group taking on missions of their own and continuing to live their most murderous lives, Violet dreamed of what would come next.
Her next mistake came in the form of being so vocal about wanting to leave. When Light confronted her and threatened to tell the others about Violet’s father, a flip finally switched. She should have seen it before — this was not the person she had grown up with and considered to be her friend. If the others found out about her father, would they think Violet was a double agent this entire time? Would they think her a traitor or worse, someone just as bad seeing as how his blood flowed through her veins?
Ask her to her face, and Violet will swear up and down that of course she didn’t kill Light. They were her friend, someone who occasionally knew her better than she knew herself. But say hypothetically that she had. In spite of her hands-off childhood, Violet had always been under someone else’s thumb, existing for their benefit before any actual care for her life. And Light was forcing her to get again exist under someone else’s control — that of someone she thought she could trust. So yes, Violet will go to her grave denying that she could ever kill Light. But if she had, could anyone blame her?
INCLINATION
Word on the street is that Gloas’ abilities were very different some centuries ago, but have changed in that time as a result of human pollution and deforestation. Gloas’ hope was that by instilling it’s users with the gift of creating plants and flora wherever the slightest bit of life existed, they would be able to once again help Earth flourish in its naturally beautiful state. With powers tied so heavily to the idea of clean air and unspoiled land, Gloas users do find themselves sensitive to environmental changes. Their skin and bronchial tubes in particular can be effected. They are often times asthmatic, react poorly to intense heat and cold, and become completely lethargic when too far away from nature.
CONNECTIONS
Filling the role of Vidia Oma’s I Want You to Want Me
Former Classmate: Another witch or wizard who spent their early years attending St. Agnes’ Prep (think bougie rich high school with a population of about 98% magic folks, 2% oblivious humans) and who would have known both Violet (then known as Merope) and Light to some degree, mostly by the fact that they were attached at the hip. Now that Violet and this person are back at Polaris, she makes a point to pretend they don’t exist, if only because she wants to forget her life from back then.
Let’s Get Some Shoes: Shopping buddies tbh. Violet has expensive taste, she has the funds to match it, and she has a friend (?) who will tell her rather or not the $320 pair of shoes she’s eyeballing would look better in black or red — the correct answer is for her to buy both, obviously.
Penned by Jeanne ★
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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago
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consider this: Steve couldnt get to college so he went to police academy instead, working with Hopper is a part of his internship and the more time they spend together the closer they become, at first Billy is happy that they get along but then Hop can't seem to shut up about Steve and his achievements so Billy starts getting jealous and worried that he will never be able to make Jim proud like this
Ohmydearrr!!! Okay i’ve seen a few things talking about Steve and/or Billy joining the police force in Hawkins and i just? Love it. I think it’s so good. And This is so good bc we know Bratty Billy = Jealous Billy.
So Steve, being the lovely little dummy that he is, is unable to get into college. I love him dearly, i think we all do, but also I don’t think college is even right for the boy. It’s a totally viable option to just Not go to college. That’s 100% fine and I think that Steve was very gently told that by people like Joyce and Jonathan and Nancy and Billy (who may not have been as gentle and might have been a bit more like: College doesn’t deserve you! Fuck college, you can still do whatever you want without college, goddamnit!!)
And when Hop hears that Steve’s been struggling with this, he puts a large, comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder and says: “y’know… we’ve been thinking about getting some more officers…”
So Steve starts his internship!! And lemme tell you, Hop is tough on him at the beginning. And the other officers + Flo watch him really put Steve through the paces and they’re like: “Hop. Give the boy some slack, this job is mostly about getting cats from trees and catching kids who kick pumpkins in on Halloween.”
But Hop is 1. Paranoid about more government monster shit happening
And 2. Kinda having fun messing around w/ his son’s boyfriend. Just to get him a little scared, give him a little reminder that “Hey, I’m big and tough and can crush you in a second, so be wary.”
But after about a week or two of Hop putting Steve through the paces, Steve being tired as all hell just about 24/7, and Billy bitching at Hop about how “You’re trying to kill my boyfriend, huh? Quit working him so hard, he’s tired as hell every day because of you!”
Well… the Officers think it’s time to give Steve a little break.
So they invite him out to Guys Night. Which is just heading to a bar and getting just a little buzzed. And yeah, Steve isn’t 21 yet, but Hop has known the owner of the bar for decades now and they know he won’t card Steve. Plus… it’s the police that are bringing the boy in and letting him drink. So like… who’s gonna get called on him, y’know??
So Steve is strung tight, sitting uncomfortably as all the guys laze around and chat, Officer Callahan telling him how he trained under Hop when he was working on being an Officer and “let me tell you, the guy is a brute. He can be such a dick.”
“I’m right here, you idiot.”
“Yeah, but you like me now.”
“I can dislike you real quick if you keep talking.” Hop says over his glass of whiskey.
And Steve relaxes over time. Laughs with the guys like they’re his friends and they kinda do become his friends?? Officer Powell talks to him about the craziest things he’s seen on the job. Callahan is giving Steve tips on what to do with cats stuck in trees if you’re allergic. (Steve isn’t, but he listens to the advice anyway bc he’d feel rude not to). Hop hits Steve on the back and laughs big rolling laughs and Steve feels welcome.
Hop gets a lot easier on Steve as time goes on. Bc see, Hop never doubted Steve. He never thought the boy didn’t have it in him bc he’s seen the boy fight off scary as fuck monsters. And he still wishes he didn’t have to but… if anyone has what it takes to be a police officer in this fucked up town, it’s Steve. Plus it’ll be nice to have another person on the force who knows about all of the shit that’s really going on around here.
And after about a month, Hop is talking about Steve near constantly. He’s always talking about how good he did handling the Mr. Wilson today or how he knew just how to break up that fight between these two boys or how he’s gotten so good at writing out parking tickets that he doesn’t even need Hop anymore.
And some of the smallest, dumbest things make Hop beam and Billy watches it with growing pride in his chest bc Yup. That’s my boyfriend. I always knew he was good, fuck anyone who ever doubted him.
Except... 
He’ll ask Steve out and Steve will respond with: “Oh, you know I’d love to but… It’s Guys Night tonight.”
“Guys night?”
“Yeah, me and the other officers are going down to the bar. I’ve told you about it right? Anyway, they’re probably waiting on me so I’ve gotta go, bye babe!”
And the line goes dead.
And Billy’s livid.
Bc Steve and Hop are so buddy buddy now. Steve is always talking about how cool Hop is and how he shows him all of this different stuff and where the best donuts are sold and the different types of fucking paper airplanes you can make out of empty parking tickets and “Goddamnit do you guys every do your fucking jobs??”
And Hop is always gushing about Steve, even if it’s something stupid like knowing all the lyrics to some stupid Foghat song or how good he is at cleaning the cars or how respectful he is to old Mrs. James and Billy is just livid.
Because Billy feels like he could do anything, he could sprout wings and fly to the fucking sun and Hop would still be mooning over Steve being a “good egg” or some shit and he’s had enough. From what Billy has heard, Steve is barely doing anything and already Hop is praising him high and low.
So one day, when Hop is about to bring up going out on patrol with Steve again, Billy snaps.
“Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve! I get it! Steve is the best!”
Hop is shocked, watching Billy with wide eyes as he goes on.
“You should have just adopted him instead! He’s got a rough home life too, y’know?? He’s always alone, his parents barely talk to him, why didn’t you adopt him, huh? I’m surprised you don’t have pictures of him in your fucking wallet!”
Hop is blinking hard. “Billy, I-”
There’s a knock at the door. Billy waves Hop off as he goes to stand to get it.
“I’ve got it.” Billy growls, swinging the door open to find his boyfriend, smiling wide.”
“Hey, I-!”
“Oh, your buddy is here!” Billy spits to Hop, before storming out of the cabin.
Hop gives Steve a confused look before Steve follows his boyfriend outside.
“Billy, what’s up?”
“Why don’t you go talk to your partner? You guys are such good friends, no need to hang out with me anymore.”
Steve reaches out to stop Billy, holding him back as best he can. “Babe, what are you talking about?”
“All you ever talk about is Hop and all Hop ever talks about is you and it’s driving me crazy. Do you know how many times you’ve blown me off for Guy’s Night?”
Steve blinks. “I-”
“Seven. Seven times. It’s shit, Harrington. I’m so fucking sick of this.”
“I didn’t know-”
“Yeah, because no one fucking talks to me anymore.”
Steve wraps Billy up in a hug, kissing his cheek and down his jaw and onto his neck.
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean it.” Steve coos, holding the squirming Billy tight. “I’ve just… I’ve been so excited. I found something I can do without having to go to college. I really like it. I should be sharing it with you though.”
“Yeah, well… whatever. I’m glad you’re fitting in and everything. Just… quit telling me how cool my dad is. It’s weird.” Billy says, squirming still but Steve isn’t letting go, still attached to Billy’s neck and chuckling against it.
“Alright, I’ll stop. I promise.”
“Thanks.” Billy mumbles against Steve’s lips before kissing him soundly.
Just then the sound of someone clearing their throat comes from the doorway, and both boys look to find Hop with his arms crossed.
“Hi Chief!” Steve says with a smile, but Billy is untangling himself from Steve to go confront Hop.
“You keep making sure you’re keeping my boyfriend safe! I don’t trust anyone around here. There has to be some maniacs in a small town like this.”
Hop rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah.” He says, brushing Billy off before looking him seriously in the eye. “You know I’m proud of you for everything you do, right?”
Billy feels it in his chest, the warmth that rises up when Hop talks to him like he really is his son.
“Oh, sure. Would you be just as proud of me if I blew a bubble the size of my head like Steve apparently can?”
Hop smirks. “Yeah, I would, because your head is a lot bigger than Steve’s is.”
Billy shoves past Hop to get into the cabin, muttering a fakely bitter “I hate you.” as Hop laughs and walks off the porch.
But now he’s standing in the doorway and waving goodbye to them as they head off to work, happy to see his boyfriend so happy and to see his boyfriend and his dad get along and wow things just feel so nice.
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sheerioasteroidpanda · 5 years ago
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Couple’s Holiday, Getting Dicked Good and Monster Girls
Uhh so as usually, when I’m most stressed I write and lately I’ve been reallyyyyyyyyy feeling some Ed Sheeran story so I wrote this. It’s just short and silly and yeah. Just blah. I know I haven’t written anything for tumblr in a while and my AO3 is kind of dead but its cause I let a snide comment get to me plus I’ve been super busy with finishing up college so. Anyways enough rambling. Here’s my first Ed fan fic in a long time. And yes, I used my name cause I’m lazy and selfish and needy for Ed. 
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"Babe?"
"YEAH?" amanda shouted from her position on the couch, which was currently upside down, legs on the head rest and head on the foot rest.
"Why are you yelling?" Ed asked not looking up from his phone as he entered the condo he had rented for the holidays. 
"Oh sorry, thought you were farther away. All the blood is rushing in my ears and it's kinda hard to hear."
"What the hell are you doing?" Ed asked finally looking up to see his girlfriend sitting the complete wrong way with her head nearly touching the floor.
"I dunno, what are youuu doing?" Amanda grinned back. They had been staying at a luxury condo in Colorado Springs for the past 2 weeks and she was getting antsy. While it was supposed to be a holiday vacation, Ed had gotten together with a few music buddies and of course, being Ed, had worked the whole 2 weeks. She didn't mind, she loved seeing him happy and working but still… antsy.
"Wanna go to a party tonight?" Ed checked his phone again as it dinged.
"Hmmmmm what kinda party? We takin party hard party? Rave party? Club party? Pub/dive bar party? You gotta fill a girl in here, ginger boy" amanda rolled over so she was sprawled on the long couch laying on her stomach, her feet kicking in the air.
"Oh I'll fill a girl alright!" Ed wiggled his eyebrows and quickly pocketed his phone so his hands were free to grab Amanda's sides and tickle her. "Fill her right up with my ginger cock is what i’ll do!"
"Edward!" Amanda squealed and wiggled trying to get away. Or maybe get closer, it could be hard to tell sometimes. "You're so lewd!" 
"Aye but you love it" ed said as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek, his body now laying fully on top of hers.
"Nah, i love you" amanda said while pushing her hips up to rub against his groin.
Ed nearly growled at the friction. "Babe before we start, do you want to go out tonight? It'll be club and my friends will be there" ed explained as he trailed kisses behind her ear and down her neck.
"Oh" amanda said softly trying to focus. "Which friends?"
"Hmm?" Ed mumbled while he rested back on his hunches and started to push up Amanda's top.
"Ed which friends are going to be there tonight?" Amanda asked a little more firmly.
"Uh, I don't know, probably Dillion and JB and Dia and…" ed listed off a few others.
Amanda felt her heart sploot a little, these were definitely not her types of people. "Uh, why don't you just go. I know you'll have a lot more fun without me to be your ball and chain" saying a little more cheerfully than necessary.
"You don't want to go? Is it cause of Justin? You know he's grown up now. Just like I did." Ed says seriously, all future sexy times are thrown out the window.
Sighing amanda scooted out from under ed so she could sit properly. "I know ed but i just don't enjoy his company not to mention a few others you mentioned would be there. You know that's not my scene anyways. Id just be awkward and distract you from having a good time. Go have fun with your friends. Seeing them is just as important as seeing me or seeing family."
"Dear god I love you" ed said, cupping Amanda's cheek and giving her a sweet and light kiss. "What about you, love? What will you do if i go out?"
Amanda laughed loudly "darlin i have a bottle of wine in the fridge, internet connection and my kindle app. I promise ill be fine for a few hours." It was amanda's turn to give ed a peck on the lips. "Go. Have fun. I'll be here enjoying me time."
"God i fucking love you!" Ed said excitedly as he jumped up after kissing her again and grabbing his jacket and ran towards the door.
"Wait!" Amanda shouted just as he was about to close the door. Ed poked his head back in with a question. 
"Phone?" A nod. 
"Wallet?" Another nod. 
"Keys?" Amanda asked with a raised eyebrow as she looked from him to the coffee table in front of her with his keys sitting on it.
"Have I mentioned you are the most wonderful woman ever to exist?" Ed said as he sheepishly came back inside and grabbed his keys.
"Hmm ill be sure to let your mom know you said as such" amanda grinned wickedly.
Ed gasped "you wouldn't"
"I will if you don't leave right now. You're gonna miss all the fun." 
Ed rushed out the door with a final, ‘love you!’ and left Amanda on her own once again. Sighing to herself, she allowed herself to pout at being left alone once again but only for a moment. She truly meant what she said about wanting him to see his friends. And it wasn’t that she didn’t not  like some of his friends, she just knew she wouldn’t enjoy herself. If she wasn’t enjoying herself, she didn’t want to distract Ed with her problems. 
But honestly, did he have to leave her all hot and bothered? Just rude. Thinking about ways to fix her problem she slammed her fist in her other hand. “I’ll need my laptop and that bottle for sure” Amanda giggled. If Ed is going to have a good night, so was she. 
----
“Dude? And she just let you go?” Justin looked at Ed in disbelieve. “Sounds fake but okay” he muttered as he sipped his drink. 
“Well I think it’s nice” Dillion said. “You two are so good for each other, she has totally got your back.” 
Dia snorted, “That or she’s fucking someone else.” 
“What the fuck?” Ed slurred a little. “She wouldn’t do that to me. If she wanted me to stay in, she would have told me. Besides, she loves my dick. Why would she look for another” Ed said smugly. 
Dia eyed Ed up and down while sassing her head. “Who said she’s looking for some dick?”
“She is pan” Justin chimed in unhelpfully. 
“Let Ed be. Y’all should learn to trust your partners. That’s why y’all can’t stay in a relationship while our boy Ed here is in a 3 year relationship with a lovely girl.” Dillion praised with red cheeks. 
“I don’t know about that. You have seemed to be avoiding her lately” Justin muttered, glancing at Ed before looking away just as quick. 
“No I’m not!” Ed said a little louder than he had meant to. He was more drunk than he thought. 
“Ed, you two have been here for nearly 2 weeks on a ‘couples holiday’ and all you’ve done is work. Amanda hasn’t even been coming with you cause me and her don’t mix well” Justin pointed out. “If I gave up seeing my family and friends for the holidays to go on take a trip with my boyfriend to a luxury condo resort only to be left almost daily cause said boyfriend is working, I’d be a little irritated myself.”
Ed sat with a large pout while he picked at the label on his beer. “I always ask before I leave and she has asked for me to stay a few times and we’ve gone out and skied and went ‘round her old hometown. Even went to that coffee shop she remembered as a little girl.” 
Even Dillion started to look doubtful. “I don’t know Ed. I don’t think Amanda should have to ask  you to stay when you’re on a couples holiday.” 
“I know my girl,” Ed stated again louder than he meant to, setting his beer bottle down a little too hard on the table. “If she had a problem with me going out, she would have said so. She isn’t seeing anybody else and she isn’t sleeping with anyone either.”
Dia raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Sure Teddy, but I know females and that girl is totally feeling ignored and pushed aside.” Dia stood and winked at the whole table, “I’m going to dance, see you boys later.”
The 3 men sat in silence for a moment before Justin spoke up. “Okay, I can see what Amanda was saying about not being sure about her.”
“You talked?” Ed looked shocked at his friend. 
“Hmm?” Justin looked to Ed after watching the girl he was currently talking to start 2 guys eyeing her like meet. “Uh yeah. We don’t click well but we’re civil enough, jesus Ed. It was on the 3rd day you two showed up and I came to pick you up to record. You were still in the shower and I waited and we talked a bit. 
“Amanda seemed a little more off than usual with me so I asked. She confessed that Dia made her uncomfortable and didn’t think she was a good match, before back-peddling and saying she didn’t mean to intrude on my private life and apologized. And... “ Justin stopped and looked a little embarrassed. His red cheeks from drinking didn’t help hide his guilty look. 
 “What?” Ed asked irritated for some reason. 
“And she said she was sorry for not being able to get along with me. That she knew we were really good friends and didn’t want to ruin that but she wasn’t going to change herself to please you. Then she hoped she was wrong about her feelings for Dia and wished me luck.” Justin looked away, too embarrassed to look Ed in the eye. “I gotta say man, I got a little jealous of you right at that moment.”
“See Ed, there’s nothing to worry about. Just relax and enjoy yourself.” Dillion said with a pat on Ed’s back. 
Ed squinted at Justin, taking in his words. He had a sudden swell of unbelievable pride in his girl but the ear worm had gotten to his brain already and now he couldn’t stop thinking about Amanda being in bed with another man. Or woman. Oh god, or both. Ed stood up abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. “I have to go!”
“Wait, Ed maybe you should sober up a bit first” Dillion looked worried. 
“I’m fine” Ed grumped and marched out of the bar. They weren’t that far from the condo complex and the cold air would sober him up just fine. 
After walking the 10 minutes back to their room, Ed’s head had cleared and realized how stupid he was being. Ed smiled to himself as he unlocked the door and shook his head at how silly he was and what a great girl he had. 
Until he heard a long, wonton moan. 
Ed froze and could literally feel his heart break. His shoulders slumped and let his coat and keys fall to the floor. He dragged his feet but couldn’t stop his movements towards the bedroom where he was hearing more moans and obvious sounds of sex.
He raised his hand to open the door when he stopped again. There was another moan but listening again, he realized it wasn’t Amanda’s moan. And then another voice groaned and then… someone speaking Japanese? 
Then to top it all off, he heard Amanda snort and laugh out loud. 
Now he was mad and confused so he peeked inside to find Amanda sitting on the bed, cross legged and in one of his nightshirts and a pair of boy short panties. She was sipping wine from a plastic bright green wine glass and was watching something on her laptop. 
Again Amanda being Amanda, she was positioned oddly so her back was actually towards the door and Ed could see what was playing on the laptop. 
“Oh my god! Are you watching tentacle pron?” Ed shouted as he stepped inside fully. 
Amanda screamed and jumped, spilling her wine all over herself and the bed. Ignoring that, she slammed the laptop screen down so fast, Ed barely saw her hand move. “What are you doing here back so soon!?” Amanda shrieked. 
“I, well, uh. That doesn’t matter right now, were you watching tentacle porn?” Ed asked again trying not to laugh. 
“You were supposed to be gone the whole night! And you left me horny! And you weren’t supposed to be home so soon!” Amanda rambled, blushing so much her neck was turning red too. 
 “I didn’t know you were into that” Ed said smirking. 
“Shut up, ginger boy!” Amanda shouted as she stood up off the bed but now standing she didn’t know what to do with herself. “I just. The thing is. You see it started. I mean, I discovered it when I was in high school. I mean, why am I explaining myself? Why were you skulking about trying to scare me?”
It was Ed’s turn to look embarrassed. “If I explain my embarrassing story of the night, will you tell me about your kink I never knew about?”
Amanda crossed her arms and looked away with puffed cheeks. “I’ll think about it after you explain yourself.”
“Okay well, I was a little drunk when it was brought up how I was ‘allowed’ to go out without you and then the guys were saying how great that was that you were cool with it but then Dia had to say something about you maybe looking to find some dick somewhere else and then Justin pointed out I’ve been working almost this whole holiday and I’ve been a rubbish boyfriend. So in my drunken stupor I thought I’d come back to find you and dick you down so good, you’d never even think of another man but then I came through the door and heard moans and sex and panicked and felt my heart break and followed the sound and then found you looking so beauiful in my shirt and those panties on that lushous ass of your’s and you watchin porn after I left you alone, I just… My brain stopped working.”
Amanda stared at him with a raised eyebrow and a doubtful look on her face as she listened to him ramble. Though once she heard that Dia had started spewing her poison, she wasn’t surprised to learn that a seed of doubt was planted. “Wait you’re telling me that brain of yours works sometimes?”
“It’s up for debate to be honest, love” Ed smiled sheepishly.  
“And you were gonna ‘dick me down so good’ huh?” Amanda said as she still kept her arms crossed but now jetting her hip out as well, sass surfacing in defense of the embarrassment of being caught. 
“Okay so maybe my brain isn’t working at all tonight” Ed said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Not the most romantic thing I’ve said.”
“Ironic sense you know, Ed Sheeran and all” Amanda smirked and nudged her chin in his direction. 
“Are you seriously gonna keep sassing me when I caught you watching tentacle anime porn?” Ed said exasperated.
“Are you seriously gonna keep bringing up the hentai?” Amanda sighed.
“Oh it has an actual name? Please tell, love, why haven’t I learned about this private enjoyment before?” Ed said, slipping into to his low baritone and stepped up to cupped Amanda’s warm cheek. 
“Cause I haven’t needed to watch porn in a while and plus it’s just sort of a once in a blue moon type thing” Amanda confessed, blushing straight to the tips of her hair. “Plus it wasn’t tentacles…”
“Oh? Please correct me than?” Ed smirked, loving the way her whole body was warm. 
“It was monster girls and aliens” Amanda whispered. “I like the succubuses” Amanda muttered as she placed her face against his chest.    
“That. Is. So. Cute” Ed laughed as he hugged Amanda. He lowered his head so he whispered in her ear, “Would you like to watch it together?”
“Well…” Amanda snuggled her face more into Ed’s chest. “I spilled my wine of the bed.”
“Wanna do it on the couch?” Ed asked simply.
“Edward!” Amanda pulled back and slapped her hand against his chest. “You’re so lewd.”
“That wasn’t a no” Ed wiggled his eyebrows. 
“You’re right, it wasn’t” Amanda giggled back.
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alemeino-blog · 6 years ago
Text
A Not So Prefect Anniversary
Pairing: Kustard (UF Sans/ UT Sans)
Tags: Romance, Couples bullshit, angst?, Happy ending, also Sans is an a-hole. Still happy and fluffy.
___________________________________________________________
Despite the near impossible weather underground, Sans was almost never surprised by how harsh conditions got in Snowdin. It seemed as if the barrier itself controlled weather with its magic, changing it almost to fit human seasons. Even if no summer existed in the snowy forest or no rain fell in the fiery Hotland. Yet it was always near these dates that the temperature lowered and blizzards grew stronger and more frequent. Nearly no one ever was outside and the town looked more ghostly than the usual warm welcome it held.
But unlike others, who were with family gathered around the fireplace or drinking hot cocoa wrapped in blankets while watching Japanese cartoons or MTT, Sans found himself down in the lab, with his hoodie and a blanket on sitting on his stool looking at the transporter. It was probably the second anniversary of when he and Red had met, and like last time they were planning on spending it at Sans'. Heck Sans had been planning to take the other to Waterfall but the weather decided to mess up with his plans. If Red came that is.
He had already been waiting for more than an hour, the cocoa his brother had prepared already cold from being left untouched on the cool table. A cold breath escaped Sans as he wrapped the blanket closer, glancing up at the ticking clock as it hands pointed at 20 past ten. They had already made plans the week before for what they would do, deciding to spend it at Sans' verse since Red refused to let his softer version stay at his universe anymore than he needed to. Saying how it would only be a pain in the ass for him to have to watch his way laid back boyfriend to make sure he didn't do anything stupid and get himself killed. He was an adult for goodness sake he didn't need Red pampering him as if he were some baby bones. Sure he may be weaker, smaller, and heck way lazier than Red but that didn't mean he couldn't take care of himself.
He sighed, already thinking about how overprotective his boyfriend was and how much he simply cared for his health and happiness. Often times overlooking himself. God how he wanted to be wrapped around those sturdy arms and held close, not needing a fire or blanket because the magic and love radiating was warmer than any fire place. Glancing up at the clock which pointed to half past ten, he wondered what could be taking Red so long. Was there a problem with the machine? Not likely, each made sure both were running two days ago and Sans just checked his. Was Edge screaming at him to go do chores and tasks? Not an option for the edgier version if his brother was trying to make amends with Red and try to fix their relationship. Probably to impress Papyrus with how much of a good monster he was trying to be, at least to Red.
Did Red forget...or.... not care...?
Sans scoffed it off, not believing it for a single bit. The idea itself was crazy, unbelievable, impossible. If Sans knew anything about Red was, he was loyal to those he truly cared for. His devoted loyalt was probably a reason to why he barely trusted anyone, much like why Sans' devotion to keeping promises was why he hated making them. So why, what was taking Red so long? What could be keeping him back for nearly three hours?
Sans shivered again, beginning to feel the outside cold seep in to his lab. He may be a skeleton but heck even he could feel dire temperatures. Laying his chin on his hands, he waited for the door to open up, to see those piercing yet beautiful red eyelights and to bury his nose hole deep into the other's jacket and taking in that welcoming smell of mustard. He felt his eyes droop and forced them awake for he didn't want to fall asleep. He just had to stay up to at least see the other.
**************
Red mentally cursed himself as he ran back home. Not only had he fallen asleep at work but Doggo and his gang decided to be complete dick heads and decided to pester him, which eventually led to Red snapping out and nearly dusting them while escaping from the ones he couldn't damage as easily. On top of that he was on his way down and fogoted the anniversary gift he had gotten Sans so he had to teleport to his room and scavenge for it. Lucky for him his room wasn't nearly as messed up as Sans, but it was still basically a dump. After a whole he managed to find where he had hidden it in case Sans decided to come over and their date happened to take him to his room. Grabbing the passage he glanced at the clock, already late as hell as he teleported back to his lab, not caring if he was dressed nicely or not anymore.
As he got there however he realized the machinery was running low on gasoline so whoopsie number three! 'Fuck can anything go right already?!,' Red bitterly thought as he teleported to Alphys' lab, stealing some of hers and not caring as she yelled curses at him. Not like she could do anything. Even if she got her girlfriend Undyne on it she doubted stealing gasoline was an exuse to kill someone over it.
Red hated having to use that instead of electricity like Sans did. Unlike his alternative Red didn't have the tools at hand to make it electrical, since his dick of a brother never let him get anything and Alphys and him weren't exactly lab partners, reffering back to the recent incident. So he had to stick with gasoline which was rare in the Underground, only Alphys had some that he knew. Often Chillby gave him some or he found a bit at the dump but he had completely forgotten ot refill. With that done Red rushed to grab the package, disposed of the now empty canteen and flipped the switch after typing in the coordinates for Sans' universe.
Getting out he was gonna check at the clock, till his eyes fell upon the figure wrapped in a blanket, asleep on the chair. His soul felt a pinch of guilt and pain as he saw the figure was Sans. He had been waiting for him till is will gave out, till he passed out. Red cursed at himself for not having been more prepared. He looked at the table as he placed the gift there, seeing two cups of cocoa already too cold to call it hot. One was half empty while the other was untouched. He had prepared it all for him, and he was such a horrible boyfriend that due to his messiness he got there too late. God Sans was probably having who knows what sorta ideas due to him. Whatever the case he really hoped it wasn't self blame.
Knowing standing in his own self loathing wasn't going to do much he had to decide whether or not to wake his alternative. As much as he wanted to spend time with him, who knows if the other had had a long day. Not to mention how Red would have to explain to Sans how, because he was a complete idiot, he had to run this way and that yet still got late. What a great boyfriend he was! Looking at Sans' sleeping form, it would probably be best to celebrate their anniversary tomorrow. And from the cold air, he probably knew the weather outside was hell, heck his own universe was going through the same thing, how could he not know. Picking his sleeping boyfriend he teleported them to the other's room, deciding to pick up the present tense following day.
Red was basically sweating, having spent so much magic and energy all at the same time. Heck he may have a bit more stamina but that didn't mean he didn't tire out easily, he was a Sans for goodness sake!
He laid the other down on the bed before kicking off his sneakers and climbing in afterwards. As if on instant he felt Sans cuddle deeper into Red's turtleneck, yet not showing signs of stirring or waking up. 'Needy ass,' thought Red with a chuckle as he rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Sans as he shut his eyes, despite having already over slept at work.
Yes their anniversary didn't go as planned but at least they were together and they were still alive. At least the still had each other and that was all they really needed. Both smiled, especially Sans after he smelled that familiar mustard smell close in around him and felt the embrace in response to his cuddling.
'Just as planned,' thought Sans as he smirked, Red not being able to see as he was buried into the crimson turtleneck.
___________________________________________________________
Hewwo everyone, long time no see. Yeah I got a bit of motivation back in my shitty ass life so I decided to waste it all on this shit! Yep I know it is crappy as fuck but if I don't write me some Kustard than what other reason do I have to live? I know this is shity as fuck and I know I made a shit ton of grammatical errors but ey, my English isn't perfect, ain't my first language either. Anyways do whatever ya want to this, like, reblog, report, hate. Don't know don't care it is nearly 2 in the morning, I'm hungry, tired yet my insomia is acting up. Whatever, this shit will probably be ignored. Anyways, bye.
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itsthesinbin · 6 years ago
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Don’t Deserve You (Underfell!Sans/Emma[OC])
This is for @thekraziesreside​! Thanks for ordering a slot from me, my dude! Hope you enjoy it!
The day started out nice. Papyrus only minorly yelled when Sans didn’t get up on time, Emma managed to make breakfast to give herself a break from the Endless Burning that is Papyrus’ food, and she actually felt good about herself when she woke up. She got her hair looking right, found a cute outfit, and felt fantastic on her way to the store.
What she overheard at the store was what put her in a sour mood.
It wasn’t even directed at her. She just happened to hear someone’s private conversation. Fears and insecurities amongst partners. Em knew monsters had a hard time with emotion, after being trapped in the world they were for so long. Hearing the two talk about their insecurities out in the open both lifted her heart, and made her stomach drop.
She shouldn’t make everything about herself, and that thought made her mood drop even more. Even as ambassador to the monsters, she felt like she’s done nothing with her time. Even in a loving relationship, she felt as if she’s alone.
Seeing her reflection in a passing window left an empty feeling in her chest as darker thoughts swirled around her head.
Thankfully, she managed to sneak into the house without anyone noticing. She could hear Sans in his room. She didn’t know WHAT he was doing, but he was yelling at something. From the way he was yelling, it was at a video game.
“MOVE, YA FUCKIN- ASS-” Yeah, probably. Or a movie. Em snorted softly, shaking her head. She went to put the items she bought away, not realizing the yelling had stopped and slippered footsteps approached the kitchen.
“There you are”. She jumped, turning to face him. His grin turned nervous for a second, before slipping back into his usual smirk. He snickered slightly, leaning on the counter.
“You went shopping? Didn’t ask me to come along?” Em hesitated, before going back to putting up the groceries.
“You were taking a nap. I didn’t wanna bother you,” she said, trying to keep the upset lilt out of her voice. Red either didn’t pick up on it at all, or was ignoring the way she didn’t look at him. He grunted slightly.
“You know you could’a woken me up”. She shrugged, putting the bags away to be used another time. She moved past him, intending on dissociating on the couch for a hot minute.
“Just didn’t wanna bother you,” she said again, quieter this time. She could feel his eyelights on her back, following her to the living room. She heard him grab something from the fridge- probably his leftovers from Grillby’s- before coming to the couch with her. He handed her a small container of fries, while he held the burger. Propping his feet up on the coffee table- something the Terrible Papyrus would scream at him for- he leaned back against the back of the couch. Sans held out an arm towards her, smug grin on his face.
Emma smiled slightly, scooting closer and leaning against his ribcage. He wrapped the arm around her, a subtle purring coming from him.
The two sat quietly, watching some movie he put on netflix. Emma wasn’t paying attention to it, however. Her mind still wandered to her insecurities. She wanted to bring them up with Sans, but… he was never good at bringing up his OWN issues. She doubts he wants to put up with her own.
God, she’s a mess.
“Hey, you okay?” She looked up at him. His strained grin vanished completely. Reaching up, he wiped at her cheeks. When had she started crying?
“Babe?” “... I’m not good enough for you”. The sudden statement startled him. He didn’t stop her from moving away, watching her rub at her eyes in frustration. Sans put his food down, holding his hands out but… not quite knowing what to do with them.
“I’m a mess, Sans. I’m worthless, I don’t know how to handle it- and I didn’t want to dump this on you because I know you have your own problems-” she took a shuddering breath- “but here I go anyway because I can’t stop making things about my stupid ass-”. Sans finally got a hold of himself, putting his hands on her shoulders. She looked at the red skeleton, who took a breath as if to say something.
He let it out, opening his mouth, before closing it again. He grumbled to himself, before looking at her again.
“You’re good enough,” he got out, immediately turning red from how stupid he thought it sounded. “We all got our problems, sweetheart. Ain’t that what being together is- dealing with your own shit with, uh… with someone else?” He let go of her shoulders, running a hand over his face.
“You think you’re a mess? At least that dumb shit didn’t just come outta your mouth.” Emma couldn’t help but snort slightly. Sans smiled slightly.
“Snot a good feeling, huh?” She barked out a laugh, making his grin widen.
“How about I tear you a new way to look at yourself”. “Okay, that one was a stretch,” she laughed, tensing slightly as his arm went around her waist. He shrugged.
“Got a laugh outta you, though,” he said, pulling her head down to kiss her. It was always a bit awkward, as his fangs poked at her lips, but it was always nice.
“Just for a little bit,” he started, pulling back to nip at her neck. “Forget about the bullshit. Don’t think about it”.
She hummed softly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“I think… I can be persuaded to do that,” she finally agreed, making him grin against her neck. He bit down harder, making her jerk slightly. One of his hands dug into her short hair, pulling her head back carefully. The other slid up her shirt, pushing it up to her chest. She froze as her bra and chest were exposed, but he growled slightly.
Right… don’t think about it. Instead, she focused on Sans. Her hands trailed down as he unhooked her bra. When it was off, along with her shirt, she put her hands into his own clothes. She snaked her fingers along his ribs, making him groan softly.
“You look so good, babe,” he purred, dragging his tongue along her chest. She shuddered, gripping his ribs and making him twitch.
“Don’t know how I went this long without you”. Emma felt her face flush, looking off to the side as he shimmied her pants down.
“Sans- slow down-.” “Sorry, sweetheart, you just drive me crazy.” He did stop with the pants, though. He went back to her torso, trailing his digits along her stomach and toying with her breasts.
She shifted under the attention, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders. She pulled him up slightly, kissing along the vertebrae of his neck. He shivered, growling softly in appreciation. The taste of bone was always odd, to say the least. Emma definitely got used to it, though. She doesn’t know if she could go back to humans, honestly. It’d be too weird.
He scratched down her sides, pulling her out of those thoughts. Sans dug his hands into her pants again, looking at her for permission this time. She nodded, lifting her hips for him. A grin spread across his cheekbones, and he pulled them down- underwear and all.
His sweater was the next thing to follow, displaying his ribs in a rare scene of vulnerability. Emma felt her face flush. He’s admitted before he’d hated stripping in front of his past partners. With her, though, he feels safe enough to do so.
Kinda stupid, he had laughed, cause you’re a human. Never supposed to feel safe around one of you. She always tells him that she loves the sight of him. Right now was no different.
“You look so good, Sans.” The red she loved spread across his cheeks. He rolled his eyelights, grabbing and rubbing her hips. As usual, when he was complimented, he avoided looking her in the eye.
“Ain’t about me,” he grumbled, flustered. She snickered slightly, before yelping as she was pushed onto her back.
“Hello-” “Stay there for a minute, huh?” He moved down, grin growing hungry as he grabbed her thighs and pushed them apart. Despite his wish to “stay there”, Emma sat up on her elbows.
Spreading her open, his tongue dragged along her slit and clit. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t already wet and sensitive, so just that action alone made her hips twitch and a small gasp leave her. He grinned up at her, eye flashing a brilliant red.
His fingers dug into the meat of her thighs, and his attention focused on her clit. The magic of his tongue left a pleasant buzz along her skin, making her squirm and groan. One hand left her thigh, moving to prod her entrance. Magic enveloped the digits, making them smooth enough to enter without rubbing her skin raw.
She arched her hips, moaning from the feeling of the magic on her clit and in her pussy. She put a hand on his skull, the other gripping the couch to ground herself.
Sans looked up at her, grinning as he lazily licked her clit. The action completely opposite of his fast-moving fingers. They drilled into her relentlessly, over stimulating her in the best way. She whined loudly, twitching around his fingers.
“Sans-” He purred, adding to the buzzing on her clit. Embarrassingly, she already felt herself getting close to an orgasm. She bucked her hips, panting and throwing her head back. He didn’t slow down, even though he knew the signs.
She came around his fingers, grinding against his tongue and dropping back against the couch again. He slowed down, helping her ride it out as she caught her breath.
:”Fuck,” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair. Sans sat up, licking his magic-and-slick coated fingers clean. Emma felt her cheeks heat up, barely having any time to react as he pushed his pants down enough to expose his hips. His dick on display, he looked down at her with a lazy smile.
“Up for round two?” A little dazed, she nodded anyway. He growled appreciatively, pulling her closer by her thighs. He ground his dick against her, making her rock her hips back against him.
Slowly, he pushed into her, allowing her to adjust along the way. He rubbed her clit slowly with his thumb, making her whimper softly and spread her legs more.
“Please, Sans-” “Shh, babydoll, I’ll take care of ya.” He slid in and out of her lazily, rubbing circles into her sensitive clit. She reached down to grab his wrist, taking a shuddering breath.
“Stars, you’re gorgeous,” he groaned, beginning to speed up. He held one of her legs with his free hand, pulling her as close as possible. She dropped her head back against the couch, moaning softly.
“You think you don’t deserve me? It’s the other way around, sweetheart,” he grunted. “Humans don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you. You’re such a great woman, Em.” Emma groaned, rocking her hips against him.
“Fuck, I love you,” he moaned, starting to drill into her. She moaned loudly, arching her back. She already felt herself approaching orgasm number two. Her thighs tensed around his hips, and she looked up at him.
“Sans- I’m-.” “Go ahead, babe. Well… she didn’t need to be told twice.
She tensed up, whining loudly as her sensitive body reached her second orgasm. Sans growled, not slowing down in his thrusts. He grabbed her hips with both hands now, keeping her in place as he pounded into her.
She let out a tired moan, over sensitive body forced to endure until he, finally, came inside of her.
He snarled, finally slowing down as he emptied himself into her. The magic buzzed warmly inside of her, making her sigh. When he pulled out, his dick vanished. He flopped onto his ass, catching his breath as he sat down.
Slowly, she sat up, only to be lifted up by his magic and dropped into his lap. He grinned, sweat trailing down his skull from the excessive use of magic- and energy.
“Hope that helped a little,” he joked, wrapping his arms around her. Emma rolled her eyes slightly, leaning against his shoulder.
“I might need a little more convincing.” He paused.
“God, please don’t make me go again. I’m so tired.” Emma snorted, laughing at how distressed he sounded. Sans huffed, shaking his skull.
“Alright, alright, I’ll go easy on you,” she snickered, kissing his cheek. His cheeks flushed, and he patted her back with a grin.
“Thank the stars someone does.” He knew Papyrus would yell at him, later, for fucking in the living room.
Eh… he could deal with it.
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coffee-obsessed-writer · 7 years ago
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The Halloween Party
This is my first time ever writing Dean Winchester, so please be easy on me! For @kazosa Half-Evil Writing Challenge! I was going to go with Daryl, but thought maybe it was time to give my favorite Winchester brother a go!
Dean Winchester x Reader
Words: 5047
Warnings: Language, Violence
Summary: Sam drags Dean to a Halloween party that offers up both some fun times and some bloody times… Happy Halloween!
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“I hate Halloween parties, Sam,” Dean moaned as he steered his car down the long stretch of highway. “Seriously, I hate them.”
“Yeah Dean, I know. I really think we’ve had this conversation every year since, oh geez, I don’t know… puberty.”
“Yeah, well…” Dean trailed off and made a mocking face of his brother.
“Just… drive, ok? We will be there soon.”
“At a damn Halloween party. I told you, I am not staying.”
“Dude, I don’t care. I told her I would be there, so I am going.”
“And tell me again how exactly you know this girl?” Dean asked not taking his eyes off the road. “Because honestly Sam, I cannot recall one time since you left school that you’ve mentioned her.”
“That’s because I never said I knew her from school Dean,” Sam answered casually but didn’t offer any more information.
“Then… wait.. How do you know her?”
“Just drive man, c’mon. I just thought it would be fun to get out of the bunker for something that wasn’t a case or, you know, the end of the world for once.”
Dean sighed and paid attention to the road. “Fine. Where do I go from here?”
“Ten more miles and you should see a turn off on the right,” Sam said trying to see beyond the fog in front of them. “Her place is at the end of the road on the lake.”
Dean passed him a glance from the corner of his eye and grumbled. “Does this girl have a name?”
“Harley,” Sam said and looked out the window.
“Harley?” Dean asked sarcastically. “Really?”
“Yeah, Dean, that’s her name. Man, what is your deal tonight? I get you don’t like parties, but, you’re being extra surly.”
Dean rolled his eyes and knew that his brother was right. He hated when Sam was right. But he really did hate parties… especially Halloween parties. The costumes, the fake monsters and the level of stupid that most people achieved was beyond his patience level.
“Alright, look, I’m sorry, ok? I will try to be less of a dick… but, you gotta tell me, man, how do you know this chick?”
Sam pursed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut, “Well, uh, she’s a hunter… ok?”
“So, you’re taking me to a hunter’s Halloween party?”
“Mmhmm, yeah.”
“Great,” Dean said to himself, shaking his head as his hands gripped Baby’s steering wheel tighter. “Oh, this should be a blast.”
Twenty minutes later the Impala’s headlight scanned across the cabin where the party was raging on. Dean noticed a dozen or more vehicles littered the parking lot in front of the cabin and hit the brakes.
“I am not leaving her in here Sam,” Dean’s face contorted into that of a pouty five-year-old and Sam couldn’t help but laugh.
“Dude, just park over there,” he motioned to an empty place down to the left. “She’ll be fine.”
 Standing by the fridge for the last hour had not been your idea of a good time. You were only making an appearance at Harley’s little Halloween bash because you owed her one from a hunt that had taken a bad turn a month back. A guilt trip and half a bottle of whiskey later you had finally relented and came to her party.
Leaning back against the counter, you took a swig from the bottle of beer, finishing the last sip. As you opened the fridge to grab another, there was a bit of commotion at the front door. Giving it a passing glance, you secured a bottle of some craft brew and rolled your eyes.
“She even has boogee beer… Jesus,” you shook your head but used a lighter on the counter to pop the top. You downed half the bottle in one gulp, and despite the pretentious label of the brew, you didn’t mind the taste.
Looking around at all the Halloween decorations, you wrinkled your nose and pulled down a paper Mache witch hat that Harley had hung from the light.
“Is she fucking serious with this crap?” you mumbled to yourself.
Shaking your head, you meandered around the kitchen wishing desperately you were anywhere, but there.
Just as you put the bottle down, Harley stumbled into the kitchen with a tall, well-built man whose entire face was smiling while chatting with your cousin. Following them was another man dressed in a black shirt with a blue and gray flannel, and dark blue jacket over top. The expression he wore was more similar to your own, here under duress.
Harley had her armed linked through that of the taller man and screeched a hello when she saw you standing sentry duty at the fridge.
“Y/N! Look who’s here! Sam, this is my cousin Y/N, Y/N, Sam… and this is his brother Dean,” Harley said and flicked her hand absently in his direction. “Don’t mind him, he’s being a party pooper already.”
A crash from the other room stole Harley’s attention. “Sorry boys gotta attend to that. You know how hunters are when they all get together and get drunk!”
“Don’t I know it,” Dean muttered, earning a chastising look from Sam.
“Hi there,” Sam said and stretched out his hand, “it’s nice to officially meet you. Harley’s mentioned you a few times.”
“Too bad you never mentioned Harley,” Dean griped under his breath.
You couldn’t help but laugh at him, and at how annoyed Sam was by him. You suppressed a laugh that didn’t go unnoticed by Dean.
“Would, uh, you guys like a beer or something?” you asked and stepped aside, opening the fridge for them.
Sam reached in a grabbed a bottle, “I’m going to go out and find Harley, maybe say hi to some of the others.” He held up his bottle in a salute and headed out of the kitchen.
As Dean took his turn to reach into the fridge, you heard him talking to himself and tried to catch what he was saying. When he finally made a choice and closed the door, he caught you looking at him and gave you a half-guilty smile.
“Kinda boogee selection, right?” He shrugged, amusing you with his expression.
“It’s the worst,” you chuckled and saluted him with your own bottle. “I’d kill for a bottle of whiskey right now.”
“Same,” he said and tapped his bottle to yours. “So, uh, Harley’s your cousin… are you in the business?”
“I am,” you answered and drank another generous portion of your beer. “I’ve been out of the game for a while, but I was hunting regularly as of a few months ago.”
“What happened?” Dean asked, seemingly genuinely interested.
“Things got messy, made some bad choices and now… just needed a mental health break, you know?”
Dean drank from his bottle and nodded, “Yeah, I might know something about that.”
Another loud crash from the living room had your nerves on edge. “Hey, it was nice meeting you, but I am going to go get some fresh air. This really isn’t my scene…” another loud bang made you flinch, “…anymore.”
“You mind if I tag along? It’s not really mine either. I hate these kinds of parties, especially on Halloween. I mean, I’m all for the candy, but…”
“Dude… same,” you and Dean clinked bottles again, and you motioned for him to follow you out of the back door as you grabbed a six pack of the craft beer from the fridge.
An hour and half a six-pack later, you and Dean had traded enough war stories to realize that your hunting styles were eerily similar, as was your attitude about the job. You found him charming and funny. But you also weren’t stupid and knew that he was a hunter, which meant that no matter how charming and cute he was, it would never go any further than a one night stand.
“So, come on, tell me why you don’t hunt anymore,” he asked, his green eyes transfixed on you.
You got quiet and really didn’t want to discuss it, but felt as though you’d drank enough to give him the cliff’s notes version.
“I was trying to take out a nest of vamps and I failed. My partner got himself killed, and they got my scent. So, I pretty much went into hiding after that. Harley here gave me a safe place to hide and went after the rest of them.”
“They still out there?” Dean asked sitting up straighter on the edge of the picnic table where you were talking.
“A few. She’s still looking for them… it’s how she guilted me into coming,” you confessed and finished off another bottle.
“Sam and I can help. We’ve dealt with our fair share of vamps.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want to involve anyone else,” you shrugged. “It’s my problem, you know? Harley… she’s different, she’s…”
“Family?” Dean proposed.
“Yeah, exactly.”
Feeling the alcohol hitting your head, you found your way to the table and took a seat next to Dean. “So, tell me, Dean, why do you hate Halloween?” You chuckled at your inadvertent rhyme while your new friend snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes.
“I mean, I like the candy… that part’s good. But really, it’s just some excuse for a bunch of witches and other nasty, vile creatures to kill or to spew all kinds of gross things from their bodies in the name of… whatever,” Dean ranted and finished off his beer.
You laughed at his expression and gently nudged your shoulder into his. Music from inside the house was getting louder, and even though Harley’s house was the only one occupied on the lake, you cringed at the level of volume.
“At least the music is decent,” Dean said turning to look at you. When he saw how close you were, a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “You, uh, wanna go back inside or anything?”
“No,” you said smiling at him. “I am perfectly content right here.” The beer had your head buzzing, and the more you looked at Dean, the more you noticed things about him you really liked.
He was smart and sarcastic in a way that made you laugh. He could talk about the job but then jump over to talking about old movies in the next breath. Watching him discuss his love of classic horror films or favorite Jack Nicholson flicks, you couldn’t help but watch his lips. It had been a while since someone caught your attention in that way, but once you noticed them, it was hard to look away.
From inside, Ramble On came through the speakers, and Dean’s face lit up, a wide grin rolling across his mouth.
“I kinda love this song,” he confessed giddily, his whole face was smiling now.
Maybe it was the alcohol or the sudden satisfaction with your decision to come to the party, but a rush of confidence blasted through you. Not giving him a chance to reject you, you leaned in and kissed Dean on squarely on the lips.
Dean pulled back quickly and stared at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. You felt instantly stupid for misreading the situation and started stammering as you stood up.
“Dean, I… I’m sorry… I –”
“Just stop,” he stood up and blocked you from leaving, “you, uh, just caught me by surprise. I didn’t hate it,” he smiled in a way that made butterflies come alive in your chest and stomach. “In fact,” he took a step closer, “I think it would be a great idea to do it again.”
Dean leaned in, his lips parting slightly as they found yours. His hands gripped the hem of your shirt where it rested on your hips. Your tongue finally found his, and he accepted it happily. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt Dean’s arms slip around the lowest part of your waist.
He gently pushed you back against the table, knocking over a couple of the empty bottles, but lifted you up to be sitting on the top. Dean kissed you deeper, but still, his lips were soft and gentle upon yours. His hand came up to caress the side of your face, and when he touched your skin, a slight moan escaped you.
You separated for a second in an effort to catch your breath. Dean was about to say something, but a scream from inside the house cut through the music that ended abruptly.
“What the hell?!” Dean exclaimed, looking towards the house then back at you.
“I don’t know, but it’s not good,” you said, jumping up from the table. Reaching around the back of your jeans, you unsheathed a long silver knife.
Dean glanced at you in surprise but continued to be aroused. “You just keep getting better and better,” he smirked.
You shook your head and started up towards the house. Dean pulled his revolver from his inside coat pocket and the two of you quickly reentered the house through the back door.
The scene you walked in on was straight out of one of the horror movies you’d just been talking about. You and Dean exchanged a look of uncertainty and continued through the kitchen where the trail of blood started and led out into the living room.
“What the hell,” he muttered walking into the large space.
Scattered on the living room floor were eight bodies, all of which were hunters who had been at the party. They were torn apart and bloody, but there were no obvious signs of what caused the wounds. You began to panic and started to scan the faces for Harley, but didn’t see her among the dead. Dean was doing the same for Sam, and when you both realized he wasn’t there, you exchanged a look of relief.
“Upstairs,” he said quietly, raising his gun as he traversed the sea of bodies and headed towards the staircase.
Following closely behind you had your knife in hand and stealthily climbed the steps. When you hit the landing, you motioned to Dean to split up, but he shook his head slightly.
“Stay together,” he whispered, “until we know what we’re dealing with.”
You gave him a nod and let him take the lead down the hallway. The entire house was silent as you and Dean began checking room by room. The second door you opened lead into Harley’s personal arsenal where she kept most of her non-essential hunting gear.
Stopping to grab a couple machetes, you handed one to Dean who again raised an eyebrow while his lips curled into an impish smile. “Seriously, I really feel like I should marry you…”
“Maybe later Dean, can we just figure out what killed a room full of people first?”
“Yeah, well, ok…” he wavered and continued down the hallway with the machete in hand.
A scream bounced through the cavernous home, neither of you were able to pinpoint exactly where it had come from.
“Dean, that was Harley,” a bolt of panic passed through you as you sprinted down the hallway.
Dean reached out and grabbed you before you could do something stupid. “Ok, maybe, but don’t go running in there like a lunatic.”
He recoiled slightly as you raised an eyebrow at him, your expression telling him to back off. “C’mon,” you said taking the lead down the rest of the hallway.
Coming to the last door, you waited until Dean was right behind you. You tried the handle, but it was locked. Dean motioned for you to step aside and with one swift kick from his boot, it went crashing in.
Harley was on the floor, blood flowing from her neck and soaking the carpet. Sam was slumped into the corner, unconscious. Over Harley’s body stood a hulking man, easily six inches taller than Dean. His back was to you, and when he turned to face you, he bared his fangs.
“Fucking vampires,” you growled and swung your machete at the creature, scoring a clean cut through its neck. Dean jumped out of the way as the blood sucker’s head rolled towards his feet.
“Damn, woman! Warn a guy first, would ya?” Dean shook his head at you and went to his brother slouched in the corner.
You looked for any signs of life on your cousin, and when you finally felt the slow, rhythmic beat of her heart, you sighed in relief.
“She alright?” Dean asked as he waited for Sam to come around.
“Yeah, he bit her, but he didn’t drain her.” You brushed the hair out of her face and tried to sit her up.
“Is there blood on her mouth? Did he turn her?” Dean asked, now lightly slapping Sam’s cheeks. “C’mon Sammy, wake up.”
“No, no blood. I think we caught him just in time,” standing you pulled Harley up and onto the low-rise couch. Holding a cloth to her wounds, you got a better look at the head of the vamp that had attacked. “I know him…” you trailed off absently.
Dean looked at you then to the head. “Was that one of them?”
You nodded simply, but then a realization dawned on you. “But he’s not the only one. Shit!” You jumped up from the bed, “There are more Dean. At least five more. If he’s here, they are all here.”
“Great,” Dean said springing to his feet. “Who doesn’t love a good vamp hunt on Halloween!?” There was a gleam in his eye that you couldn’t deny made you slightly aroused.
Making sure Harley was ok, you inquired about Sam.
“He’ll be fine, he’s starting to come around,” he looked down at his brother one more time. “Ready to go slay a few vamps?”
“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”
The action had sobered you up, but the adrenaline from the kill had you pumped. You grabbed Dean’s neck and pulled his mouth down on yours. Allowing yourself a brief moment to delight how sweet he tasted, you finally released him and smiled.
“Well alright then,” he said, taking in a deep breath, “that’ll be continued once we kill these nasty sons of bitches.”
“Deal,” you said and winked playfully at him.
 Scanning the house, neither you nor Dean found any other vampires. When you were stood in the living room again surveying the bodies, Dean looked at you curiously.
“Wait, there were at least a dozen cars outside. But, there are only eight people here. So, who did those other cars belong to?”
Feeling your stomach drop, you closed your eyes and knew that you were screwed. Flashing back to the night your hunt went wrong, you slowly moved the curtain back to look outside. All around the front of the house, a nest of vamps had the entire front surrounded.
“Shit!” you muttered and started pacing the room. “How the hell do we get out of this?” You could feel your panic starting to rise and your breath was coming in short, raspy spurts.
Dean gently rested his machete against the wall and pulled you away from the window.
“Hey, look at me,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Y/N… take a deep breath and focus on my voice. You can do this. These vamps, they’re gonna die. No God damn way I am going to let a bunch of bloodsuckers stop me from A, getting a shitload of candy on Halloween and B, finishing what we started outside, alright?”
You couldn’t help but snort a laugh at him, and slowly found your breath again.
“Now, we gotta think… what else does Harley keep upstairs? Anything we could use?”
“May… maybe?” you stammered trying to remember exactly what she kept in the arsenal.
Heading back upstairs, Sam was just emerging from the room down the hall, the side of his head in his hand, his face twisted in pain.
“Dean…” Sam started as his brother picked up the pace towards him, “what the hell happened? Why is Harley bleeding on the bed?”
“Vamps, man. We were out back, heard a scream. Came inside and they were all dead.”
“All of them…?” Sam asked, swallowing the lump in his throat and Dean just nodded. “Harley and I were…” Sam turned back to the room confused, and then back to Dean.
“Yeah, we know what you were up here for,” Dean nudged you and winked.
“Is he always like this?” you asked Sam with a smile, but was shaking your head at Dean.
Ignoring you, Sam noticed both you and Dean had machetes. “Got an extra one in the car?”
“Yeah, but we can’t get to the car. The whole damn cabin is surrounded by the nest. Y/N killed the one about to feast on your girlfriend, but now the rest are waiting.”
Pushing your way past them, you went into Harley’s room and grabbed two more machetes. Passing one to Sam, you went back into the bedroom and shook Harley until her eyes fluttered open.
Groaning, and bringing a hand to the wound on her neck, she finally sat up and focused on you.
“What the hell?” she saw the blood on her fingers and started to panic.
“It was the nest, they found us,” you confessed as Sam and Dean watched from the doorway. “Everyone downstairs… they’re gone, Harley. They’re all dead. I’m sorry… I never wanted my mistakes to find you, or them.”
You felt a hand lay gently on your shoulder and looked up to see Dean gazing down at you with a sorrowful understanding. “Right now we just need a plan,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on you.
“I got it!” you shrieked and jump up, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m so dumb! Harley do you still have my bags in the closet?”
She nodded slowly, and without another word, you ran down the hallway to her war room. Deep within the closet, you found your bag you’d left in her care. Dean entered the room just as you pulled the large duffle out and dropped it the ground.
His eyes grew large with excitement when you released the crossbow from inside, along with a mason jar wrapped in a towel.
“What is that?” he asked leaning in for a closer look.
“My crossbow, a bunch of bolts and a whole jar of dead man’s blood. We’re gonna paralyze these fuckers so we can go out and chop their god damn heads off. Then…” you looked up and smiled at him, “we’re going to get some fucking candy.”
 You positioned yourself in a second story window with the crossbow sight fixed on the vampire closest to the front door while you waited for Dean and Sam to et in position. Luckily, Harley had a crossbow of her own, allowing you to equip Dean with enough blood-soaked arrows to take on one side of the nest, while you dealt with the other.
Waiting for Sam’s signal you calmly placed the vamp back in the crosshairs and left your finger near, but not on, the trigger. The porch light flashed on, and you released the bolt at the same time Dean released one from his side.
Two vampires reeled backward from the impact and the poison now coursing through their veins. You and Dean shot at the rest as they began to charge the front door. Just as Dean dropped the last one with a bolt, you were scrambling downstairs to help Sam decapitate them while you could.
Throwing the front door open, you and Sam began to swing wildly at the nest of vampires hobbling around before you. You were so focused on the task at hand, you didn’t see the rogue one emerge from the darkness and charge at the porch. Just as it was about to grab your shoulder and throw you across the porch, a bolt went flying past your head, hitting the fang squarely between the eyes.
Turning around quickly, you smiled wide as Dean stood there, crossbow still raised. “Thanks, Dean.”
“My pleasure,” he said just as you whipped your machete around, backhanded and straight through its neck.
From inside, Harley’s shriek cut through the sudden quiet of the woods, as she saw the sight of her friends deceased and scattered throughout the room.
You and Dean went back inside and saw Sam and Harley standing in the room embracing. Her face buried in his chest as she grieved for her fallen hunters.
Passing a glance to Dean, he seemed to know exactly what you were trying to say and followed you out the back door. Spending the remaining few hours of Halloween, you and Dean worked together to build a large pyre for the hunter’s funeral that needed to be had.
 Morning dawned hours later just as the last embers were fading from the fire. Sam had taken Harley upstairs to rest, leaving you and Dean alone at the backyard picnic table where you started.
“So, what now?” he asked, fidgeting with the label on his beer.
“Now? I don’t know… I guess start hunting again,” you stared out over the lake, your face void of expression.
“Not something you want to do?”
“C’mon Dean, you know we don’t have a choice,” you grabbed the last beer from the six-pack you’d left out there the night before and cracked it open.
“Ain’t that the truth,” he raised his bottle to yours, and you clinked the glass together while catching each other’s gaze.
“Oh, I forgot,” you said reaching into your pocket. When you pulled out your hand, you took Dean’s and turned it palm up. You put three pieces of Halloween candy in his hand and closed his fingers around them. “Sorry, it was all I could find.” You smiled and shrugged apologetically.
Dean’s face lit up as if he just scored the full-size candy bars from the good neighborhood. Licking his hips, he unwrapped a piece of chocolate and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. He sighed with happiness, making you laugh out loud.
“Thanks for this,” he said, putting the other two pieces in his pocket. Putting the beer down, Dean reached for your bottle and placed it on the table next to his. “That was sweet of you, but, uh, I think you taste better.”
Dean lifted your chin up and brought his partially open lips to yours. He kissed you softly, but with each second that passed, you could feel his want of you getting stronger. His arms wrapped around the lower part of your waist and yanked you into him.
From behind you, you both heard the back door slam shut, and a pair of boots walking down the wooden porch steps. Reluctantly pulling apart, you and Dean exchanged a hungry glance but realized that the timing wasn’t going to work.
“Till next time?” he asked hopefully.
“Next time?” you teased.
“Yeah… you better believe there’s going to be a next time,” Dean kissed you again before Sam caught up to where you were.
“Dean, we should go,” Sam said, and then turned his attention to you. “She’s gonna be ok, but maybe just keep an eye on her. If you need anything…”
“I know who to call,” you smiled at Sam who nodded a thank you in return.
“Ready Dean?”
“Yeah, one minute,” he said and when Sam started walking around to the front of the house. Dean turned back to you. “So, um… next time?”
“Give me your phone,” you held out your hand and waited until Dean put is a cell in your hand. Finding the contacts, you added your name and number and hit save. “For next time.” You smiled and handed it back to him.
As you turned and walked back up towards the house, you could feel Dean’s eyes on you. You tried not to turn and look back at him, but his gaze was hot on your ass. Once you reached the door, you glanced over your shoulder and blew him a kiss. The grin on his face contorted into a schoolboyish look of love as he threw you a wave back.
You closed the door behind you and leaned your head against it while muttering to yourself, “Oh shit… what the hell did you just get yourself into?”
 Dean slipped into the front seat of the Impala but didn’t dare turn to meet Sam’s glare that had followed him inside the car.
“One hell of a night, huh?” He said as he brought the engine to life.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Sam said, his hand rubbing the large bump on his head. “So, Y/N… you and her…?”
“I’d rather talk about how you were in the room with Harley and got knocked out by a vamp… what were you doing, huh?”
Sam was silent while looking out the window, not wanting to answer Dean. Dean drove Baby down the stretch of road towards the main drag, neither of them wanting to answer each other’s questions.
By the time they reached asphalt, Dean turned to Sam unable to stay quiet any longer. “Hey, Sam? Do you think next time you want to go to a stranger’s party, you could just… you know… not. Could we just stay at the bunker, eat some candy and watch some bad movies?”
“If we had done that you wouldn’t have met Y/N,” Sam said and shrugged at his older brother.
Dean contemplated Sam’s response and nodded. “Ok, that’s true. That was actually pretty awesome,” he snorted and smiled to himself, “Alright, let me rephrase… the next time you want to go to a party full of hunters, can we at least arrive more prepared?”
“Yeah, sure Dean,” Sam said and leaned forward to turn on the radio.
Ramble On was in mid-riff when the music began pouring through the speakers. Sam was about to turn the station when Dean smacked his hand away.
“Don’t!” he chastised, flashing Sam a warning look, “I like this song…”
Dean began singing along, tapping his still blood-soaked fingers on the Impala’s wheel. Y/N’s face in his mind, and the taste of her lips firmly planted in his memory, Dean peeled out onto the highway and steered his Baby towards home.
Tags for fun: @kazosa @soythedemonqueen @aquivercactus @redm81 @lefthologramdeer @sorenmarie87 @tiquismiquis
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a-demon-within · 7 years ago
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Full name
Ichiro Kazue
Preferred name/nickname
(For Ichiro) - Ichiro is just fine.
(For Kazue) - “that asshole”, “dick”, “jerk”, anything negative and directed towards him specifically.
Generally referred to as
(Ichiro) “Ichi”.
(Kazue) “Kaz”
Appearance.
FACECLAIM: I only have a faceclaim for Ichiro for now, and I doubt there’s an accurate looking bunny monster from a movie that looks exactly like Kazue.
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Anyway, Ichi’s faceclaim is Takeru Satoh, or Satoh Takeru. I don’t know which way his name goes because he’s one of Japan’s hottest young men.
SEX: Male HEIGHT: (Ichiro) 5′4                    (Kazue) Around 6′8 to maybe around 7′1 WEIGHT: (Ichiro) 130.5 lbs             (Kazue) 168.4 lbs BUILD: Both are pretty toned and slim. HAIR: (Ichiro) His black hair is usually about shoulder length long, for a male. He doesn’t really groom himself, so it’s usually messy. But it’s still nice to touch, because of the shampoo and conditioner he uses.
(Kazue) He is covered head to toe in black and brown fur, like that of a rex rabbit. It sticks outward instead of inward, creating a nice blankety feel through the fingers. Very warm, despite his crude personality! SKIN: (Ichiro) Has a beautiful shade of peach skin that’s very soft to the touch. Not as soft as Kaz’s fur, though!
(Kazue) Nobody knows what his skin is like under his fur. EYES: (Ichiro) He has almond-shaped hazel eyes. They have a curious, almost child-like glint about them...
(Kazue) Red, glowing eyes. The pupils are that of a lizard’s slits for pupils when he’s pissed. Any other time, however; they just look like glowing red rabbit eyes. MOUTH: (Ichiro) He has a model’s lips. Like, someone would pay to have his lips... And he has them naturally. His teeth show little damage, implying that he probably had braces growing up.
(Kazue) I don’t know much about a rabbit’s lips but the teeth? Buck teeth with herbivore incisors along the sides. NOSE: (Ichiro) He has a small, defined nose with little openings. It flares out bigger when he gets mad.
(Kazue) A cute flat, twitchy rabbit nose that you’d just LOVE to boop! ...He wouldn’t like that though. HANDS: (Ichiro) Small, delicate hands. They’re very soft to touch under his gloves.
(Kazue) Medium-sized fluffy hands that have sharp bunny claws at the fingertips. FEET: (Ichiro) He has tiny feet.
(Kazue) He has huge rabbit feet, they are the back ones I’m talking about that he stands on. SCARS: Neither of them have visible scars... OTHER FEATURES: (Kazue) He has huge ears that help keep him cool. OTHER NOTEABLE FEATURES: [Optional - anything you need to mention that isn’t covered by the above.]
Speech.
VOICECLAIM: (Ichiro) I’m just going to pick Takeru Satoh as his voiceclaim for now.
(Kazue) Eddy’s voice from Ed Ed’n Eddy uh Actually I feel like Meta Knight’s voice actor for Hoshi no Kaabii fits him better as a voiceclaim. ACCENT: (Ichiro) That classic Japanese accent, but it’s slowly being replaced by something more... Southern, since he’s living in New Mexico. VERBAL TICKS: Neither of them have those. Ichi used to stutter because he was still learning English, but he’s better now. LANGUAGE: (Ichiro) Japanese was his first language so he’s quite fluent. English is his second language, and he’s doing quite well with his fluency.
(Kazue) He can learn how to speak any language, just by listening to people around him. ARTICULATION: (Ichiro) He mixes basic with intermediate words as his dialect.
(Kazue) He likes using difficult words. EDUCATION: (Ichiro) He uses short words when it comes to English, but for Japanese he’s very educated.
(Kazue) I don’t know. Do demons go to school? LAUGHTER: (Ichiro) He has a cute giggle that lasts for a few seconds.
(Kazue) Depends on whether or not he wants to be creepy or diabolic. If he wants to be creepy, he will start giggling like a stereotypical yandere does. If he’s being diabolical however, he laughs hard. GRUMP: (Ichiro) Nope.
(Kazue) Of course he does when things don’t go his way. He is evil, after all. BREATHING: (Ichiro) He gasps when startled.
(Kazue) His breathing is pretty quiet. You know, like a rabbit’s.
Mannerisms.
FACE: Both of them are very expressive. HANDS: (Ichiro) He doesn’t really use his hands that much to explain anything.
(Kazue) Uh... He flips people off when angry? LEGS/FEET: I don’t think either of them do that. EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: (Ichiro) He controls his emotions pretty well.
(Kazue) Yes. He is very moody. He tends to react violently. HABITS: Not that I know of. POSTURE: (Ichiro) He tends to slump. Sometimes he wakes up with back pain...
(Kazue) I don’t really know.... SITTING POSTURE: They both like to sit with their legs far apart. PERSONAL SPACE: Depends on who it is really.
Personal.
INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: They’re both introverts. OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: (Ichiro) Optimist.
(Ichiro) Pessismist. GENDER: They’re both male. SEXUALITY: (Ichiro) Gay.
(Kaz) Is uninterested so please stop asking. ROMANTIC: (Ichiro) Of course he’s romantic.
(Kazue) NOPE.KAZ BAD HABITS: (Ichiro) He stutters very lightly when anxious.
(Kazue) He’s a dick all the time. Isn’t that a bad habit? TRIGGERS: (Ichiro) Being called yellow or being discriminated against just because he’s Asian.
(Kazue) He IS the trigger.
The Past.
PARENTS/GUARDIANS: Ichiro used to, up until when he moved to America. His father cut him off completely from calling his family once he left, and he hasn’t heard from them since.
ROMANCE: (Ichiro) Loyalty and cuddles is what he wants in a partner.
(Kazue) BAH! Who has time for romance?! ENEMIES: (Ichiro) Anyone whom is excessively rude to him all the time could be his enemy.
(Kazue) Everything is his enemy. RESPECT: They will still respect their enemies, up until when the situations BEG for the disrespect.
Interactions.
MINGLING: (Ichiro) He’s not that good at meeting new friends.
(Kazue) He does anything asshole-ish enough to make others hate him. TEMPER: (Ichiro) Very patient.
(Kazue) Impatient. But consistent. EMPATHY: (Ichiro) He is very empathetic.
(Kazue) Mmmmm... Not really... But then again he doesn’t give two fucks about anything except experimenting. ETIQUETTE: (Ichiro) He always does his best to stick to being polite to everyone.
(Kazue) He is always intentionally rude and mean. RESPONSIBILITY: Yes. SELF ESTEEM: They both stick up for themselves pretty well. CONFIDENCE: NOPE. HONESTY: They both do their best to speak the truth and nothing but the truth. PRAISE: (Ichiro) He loves compliments.
(Kazue) He shrugs the compliment off and asks for an insult instead because he finds insults more entertaining. FAILURES: [Is there anything they do that makes people annoyed or irritated?] CRITICISM: (Ichiro) He tries to improve whatever was being criticized.
(Kazue) He loves insults. He won’t bother to change either. An asshole. INSULTS: (Ichiro) Doesn’t take them very well. He will try to insult the person or people back.
(Kazue) He LOVES insults. FLIRTING: (Ichiro) He’s okay at flirting.
(Kaz) He does not flirt. He’s more interested in experimenting than wasting his time with stupid crap like that. ATTENTION SPAN: (Ichiro) Yes, he tries but he gets kind of bored easily.
(Kazue) He can focus for hours at a time, maybe even days at a time. Incredible. SITUATIONS: Neither of them are good at dealing with social situations, but Kaz is better at the manipulation game than Ichi is.
Life.
CAREER: They both have careers in the medical field at Teufort (unless otherwise specified). COMBAT SKILLS: (Ichiro) He is mediocre at hand-to-hand combat. He prefers healing and dropping Ubers on teammates who need it, really...
(Kazue) Really good at hand-to-hand/Bonesaw-to-face combat. DAILY LIFE: They both cope well when it comes to their daily lives. INDEPENDENCE: (Ichiro) Honestly if it weren’t for Kazue’s presence, Ichi would probably struggle a hell of a lot trying to be independent.
(Kazue) Very independent. COOKING: (Ichiro) He can cook a huge variety of Japanese dishes.
(Kazue) I’m not sure. CLEANING: They’re both very tidy. DRIVING: (Ichiro) Has a driver’s license for both Japan and America.
(Kazue) Doesn’t drive and doesn’t really understand vehicles. MARRIAGE: Neither have been married in the main verse yet. LAW: (Kazue) The list of crimes is too long to explain. COURT: (Kazue) Yes. He’s had inhumane human experimentation/modification charges against him with attempted murder charges. Such a long list. PRISON: (Ichiro) Yes, due to Kazue possessing him and doing horrible crimes. He woke up in the cell incredibly confused.
(Kazue) Of course. He’s ended up causing Ichi to go to jail countless times. His crimes were usually attempted murder, inhumane human modification charges, public indecency, lying under oath... The list is too long to recall right now. MEDICAL: They are both skilled at doctoring themselves. ILLNESS: (Ichiro) High functioning autism.
(Kazue) General Assholery Syndrome? WORRIES: Of course. PEACE: (Ichiro) He loves when it’s quiet.
(Kazue) He causes chaos intentionally, he enjoys being a loud motherfucker. PARTYING: Not really. HOBBIES: (Ichiro) He likes to drink green tea, cook traditional Japanese meals and watch the birds.
(Kazue) He loves to experiment. Most of the experiments are inhumane.
TAGGING...
@rubyscout @blue-haired-tales @angelic-marksman @ask-spudscout @nmscout
and whoever else wants to do this.
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littlemisskookie · 7 years ago
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Dick and Mortified
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Dick and Mortified Ship: MadScientist!Reader | FWB!Yoongi Description: Rick and Morty!AU | Your friend-with-benefits is dragged into a crack-like adventure to get Mars Argo, on a planet you’re wanted on. Warning: The humor is inappropriate/slightly offensive/really random/really stupid. Lots of dick jokes, like way too many. I’m not saying this is good, trust me, it’s basically a crack oneshot. But enjoy it anyway. Handjob, Blowjob, Intercourse, Dirty Talk, Cumplay, Masturbation Word Count: 6,647 A/N: This is far different from typical smut since it’s more like action/crack smut, and it’s a lot different from any of my other works, so don’t expect complex characters or eye-opening issues being brought to light, because I needed to write something light hearted that let me laugh. That being said if you don’t like the humor or jokes or just find it poorly done, then you’re free to leave. This was mainly for fun, especially after I binge-watched the show. Enjoy!
You and Yoongi were officially dubbed the title of friends with benefits, and though years ago he would’ve never so much as considered talking to you, he now found himself hooking up with you frequently, and more often than not being dragged away on adventures.
You were always seen as strange, eccentric even. You missed multiple classes, and at first, Yoongi simply assumed that you were one of those kids who was lazy and skipped many classes, perhaps up to shenanigans that had you being chased by the cops for your wild and crazed antics.
He was partially true about that, except it turns out the cops were in the forms of giant wasps.
Though you were scarcely seen at classes, you seemed to ace every test, being at the top of the school despite doing any work. Everyone was baffled and intrigued, wanting to get closer to you and see exactly what made you so special, and yet something drew you to him.
Frankly, he could’ve cared less. Sure, he was curious in a sense, but it didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it. Would his eyes trail after you, spotting the bright white lab coat you’d occasionally tie around your waist? Of course. Did his brows furrow when he spied you doing something particularly quirky, and a small event or detail completely baffled him, like when you found a way to have a pencil write on your paper for you when you fell asleep in class, or that one day where your hair was moving as though electric currents were going through, making your hair stand straight and far from your head, as though static. The oddest part was that it stayed like that all day.
And as oddball as you were, with no one quite knowing what your deal was or even managing to really get so much as close to you, for some odd reason, you approached him at a party. Truth be told, you were drunk out of your mind, as Yoongi would later find out happened quite often, but immediately you latched onto him, and thus continued your hookup for the night.
Much to Yoongi’s surprise, you stayed the night, and after spending the day in his dorm while telling absolutely horrendous, inappropriate jokes and vulgar comments that sounded as though it came from the mind of a teenage boy, Yoongi was instantly transfixed, finding your sense of humor equally horrifying and hilarious. You were blunt at times, avoiding beating around the bush, and it was rather refreshing sometimes.
And thus began the friendship. Often times you two would insult each other, letting the comments roll off your back, and Yoongi would guffaw at some of the words you’d say, absolutely surprised that a girl could curse like a sailor or be so perverted. You were constantly horny as well, so it seemed, and the only time you’d stop being so crazed was during sex, which he found to happen quite often. You were also sort of a dick, not really caring about anyone but yourself, but Yoongi would find that at times, he was an exception.
Apparently, what first drew you to him was his bright blond hair, and because he seemed to somewhat enjoy your humor and could both take and throw insults, you kept him around, the sex being an added bonus. You were officially dubbed the honorary title of friends with benefits.
But it wasn’t until after six months that Yoongi came to find out exactly what it was you did and why you missed classes. He was simply waiting for you, texting away on his phone, when a bright flash of green appeared before him, and you tackled him.
He was shocked, and staring into the green, swirling void- which he’d later find out to be a portal- he saw something absolutely jaw-dropping pop out from it. It was some sort of monster, but it was entirely made of candy. You had forced Yoongi to stand once again, running, and he was absolutely mindblown when you got some sort of ray from your lab coat pocket, zapping at the monster. Yoongi’s mind felt as though it couldn’t process what was going on, but he was already on the run as you encouraged him to do, all the while zapping behind you until the candy man was literally blown into skittle-like smithereens.
Yoongi would’ve guessed you had killed someone or facilitated some sort of alien government, but as it turns out you just slept with the candy-man’s wife.
After that whole situation, you revealed that you were literally the smartest person in the universe, building robots and gadgets that wouldn’t be used until the far off or near distant future, and often times you wound up in trouble in other dimensions. Yoongi asked why you didn’t want to give any of your brilliance or gadgets to the government to help them along their research, and you only muttered something about bureaucracy.
But because he somewhat helped you with the candy-man (AKA falling on his face and having the monster trip over him, giving you the perfect opportunity to shoot him), you found him rather useful and decided to make him your partner in crime for the following adventures. The atrocities and absolute chaos Yoongi would see and have partial help causing made him rather stunned, but he admitted he liked going on those adventures with you. Not only did your crude humor have him rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh at the nightmares that ensued, but typically after a great adventure, you were more so in the mood for sex. He never understood, but he never really denied it either.
After a while, he got used to the various adventures you’d drag him along to, though of course, it didn’t mean he was necessarily okay with some of the crimes you had him commit.
Today’s adventure was no exception.
Your spaceship- which you apparently made completely out of robot prostitutes from a distant planet where STDs came in the form of computer viruses- had crashed into the window of his bedroom. The boy was startled, fumbling out of bed as he kicked the covers off his feet and looked to you.
“Y/N, what the hell?!” he shouted at you. “You can’t just crash into my bedroom- oh my God this is my dorm! What are you thinking?”
“Yoongi, Yoongi,” you mutter, climbing out and stepping over the rubble you made, repeating your name and showing your habit of saying his name often whenever you talk to him. “I’m a fucking genius, I can clean this up in five minutes, do you think I really give a shit?”
“I know that! But for goodness sake-”
“No time!” you say, grabbing onto his arm and dragging him behind you. “We’ve gotta go, Yoongi.”
“I’m still in my pajamas,” he murmured but knew he had no choice. Climbing into the UFO, he quickly did his seat belt, spotting you drinking from a bottle of champagne as you started driving. Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, and once he opened them, you guys were in a completely different place.
“What are we going to do?” he asked you, unfastening the seat belt.
“Getting Mars Argo.”
“What? Is that a drug or something? Don’t tell me it’s another one of your fancy wine bottles,” Yoongi grumbled.
“What? No, she’s an American artist,” you huffed, taking another sip of the bottle. “She was replaced by Poppy in some great conspiracy theory, and more or less she disappeared from the face of the Earth. No one’s seen her since.”
“Wait, what does this have to do with anything?”
“Turns out her boyfriend, Titanic Sulfur or something, sent her to get kidnapped to this planet to replace her with this creepy cyborg girl that’s blowing up on the internet- not important,” you say dismissively. “The point is she’s been here for years, and we need to get her back because she had some good ass music and I want more of that shit.”
“Jesus Christ,” Yoongi muttered, facepalming.
“Doesn’t exist,” you finish, winking and snapping finger guns at him. Your crude sense of humor and devotion to science never failed to make him grimace.
“Wait, so why’d you drag me along on this one?” Yoongi asked, yawning. Of course, he already knew that you needed him because you were partners in crime, but you seemed to have another answer each time to evade his own, simply because of either your pride or creativity.
“Because without me you’d have completed the rest of your college career, getting a job and meeting a nice young lady and making her your wife, having kids early in marriage until they eventually add onto the stress and difficulties of your relationship, straining it and changing the two of you forever, and you end up having a mid-life crisis at 46 when you realize you hate your job, leave your wife and kids to rediscover yourself only to break the family bond and have them hating you forever. Then you go to the church believing that if you pray hard enough to a god that doesn’t exist you’ll be saved in the next life, only to be sent to a nursing home and die while shitting your pants. At least with these adventures, Yoongi, you’ll have something to look back on fondly instead of just your divorce, wondering what might’ve been, and scrolling through dating apps for a sugar baby pathetic enough to sit on your wrinkled dick that has cum like toothpaste by that age. Don’t live a mediocre life, Yoongi, trust me. It’s so sad Yoongi.”
Alright, so perhaps he shouldn’t have asked.
“Fair enough,” he muttered. “Alright, let’s find this Mars Argo chick.”
Suddenly helicopters were coming, as well as police cars, and soon enough the two of you and the ship were surrounded. Aliens of all shapes, sizes, and colors- who oddly enough reminded Yoongi of testicles- stepped out of the vehicles, pointing various weapons and missiles at the two.
“Oh, I may have forgotten to mention this is another planet I’m wanted on,” you shrug.
Yoongi’s eyes are wide. “Oh, you’ve really done it this time,” he hisses.
“Chill dude,” you laugh. You take out your portal gun, shooting at one of the walls and delivering a hard kick that pushes the ship into the portal, thus closing it.
“What’re you doing?!” Yoongi exclaims. “That was our chance of escape! Our ride!”
You flicked his forehead, which he angrily swiped away. “Calm down, Yoongi, we’ll get out. I have the portal gun, and besides, I know these guys’ weakness. Cheer up a bit, it’s not every day you see these tentacle monsters who look like they’re inspired by the male scrotum. I mean, you think you’ll see this fucking shit every day? The last weird thing you saw was the Chupacabra when we shaved it!”
Granted, that was yesterday.
“You know you always drag me into these things,” Yoongi grumbles. “If I end up in alien jail I swear-”
“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi,” you hushed him, pulling another item from your lab coat and placing a weird gun in his hand. “Look, survive and I’ll blow you in the ship, alright?”
“I want to survive anyway,” Yoongi mutters. “But who am I to turn down a blowjob?”
“Atta boy!” you say. “Now, shoot the tampon gun!”
“The what?” Yoongi asks, flabbergasted. What did you just say?
You rolled your eyes. “They’ve got the same fears as a prepubescent straight boy, Yoongi, trust me! Just throw the damn tampon, or shoot it!”
Yoongi stared into the barrel of the gun, the aliens all murmuring and waiting to see what he would do, all of them too scared to shoot or make a move, anticipating the humans’ attack. Yoongi aimed it at one of the aliens with a missile and squeezed the trigger, sure that it would simply bounce off of the creature.
To his surprise, the small white bullet embedded in the creature, and it screeched in agony as its skin and flesh started to dissolve until there was a gaping hole in its chest that was growing larger and larger by the second, eating away at the flesh as it almost evaporated. It screamed in agony, firing the bullets from its own gun off and even killing a few of its friends as everyone panicked.
Yoongi was mortified, gripping onto his gun as he neared closer to you, and you watched the scene in boredom. “Oh yeah, they’re also allergic to cotton. And feminine products,” you say dismissively. “That should’ve been a good thing to tell you. But they’re idiots, they won’t pay attention to us for the next few minutes.”
“Oh dear God!” the dying creature shouted out as the others surrounded the wounded beast. “I’m dying, I’m dying! Mom… Mom is that you? I thought you just left Dad… Mom where have you been for the past ten years? We missed you…”
“We’re losing him!” the creature beside him shouted out. “Brandon, listen to me, you can’t. Don’t go into the light, I repeat, don’t go into the light!”
One of the creature’s tentacle-like arms reached above, “I’ll take your hand… Mom.”
“No!” another monster pushed forward, this one having long squid-type hair. “No, Brandon, it’s me, Marsha. I’ve loved you for so long and I’ve been so scared to tell you, but if you die on me, I swear- I-I… Don’t leave me! I love y-”
His arm dropped, and his long fruit-by-the-foot-like tongue rolled out of his mouth, announcing him dead. The creatures around him bowed in respect and grief, and Marsha wept over his dead body.
“Well, that happened,” you remarked, pulling out a bottle of wine, putting the cork between your teeth and yanking it back to open it. Yoongi never understood how you could fit so many things in your lab coat pocket, but you simply muttered some science-mumbo-jumbo and something about acid.
Marsha’s monstrous face looked up, and they acknowledged your presence for the first time since Yoongi shot Brandon, and suddenly Marsha was pointing a gun at Yoongi’s head, letting out a monstrous screech. “You killed him! Why, you’re dead, buddy!”
“Woah there, Debra, or whatever typical white suburban Mom name you’ve got,” you interrupt, yanking Yoongi out of the way. “Look Susan-Beth-Janice- fuck, I don’t know, but he’s innocent.”
“You’re wanted!” Marsha shrieked. “Oh, you’re heading to jail, bitch!”
“Alright, Yoongi, it’s about time we head out-” you grab him, running through. “Shoot shoot shoot! I know you, you’ll drop the soap on the first day, and tentacle-sex isn’t as good as it is in anime! SHOOT!”
Yoongi fired the custom-made gun everywhere, hearing shrieks as others began wildly shooting at the two of you, red lasers narrowly missing you two as you dodged past the dissolving bodies and ran. The lab coat tied around your waist flew behind you, almost like a cape, and Yoongi’s heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to fire off behind him. He felt as though you two were about as screwed as a pregnant woman with a smoking addiction.
The two of you swerved, going behind a building and hiding behind some nearby trashcans. At least, Yoongi assumed they were trashcans. They certainly smelled like they were, like a dead hooker rotting by some expired sushi.
“Tell me why you’re wanted in another planet?” Yoongi bitterly spat, holding on tightly to the gun and keeping watch.
You roll your eyes, “Wow, someone’s grumpy. Who pre-shat in your pants?”
“Fuck you,” Yoongi grumbled. Both of you were used to talking to each other this way, neither taking it personally. Between your asshole-ness and his intolerance towards your dick attitude, both of you were fine with spitting insults to each other.
The comment rolled off your back as you waved off his comment, looking down at the wine bottle that was half empty. Yoongi had no idea how you could still be basically sober when you’ve had a full bottle, but alcohol was typically needed to be in your system in order for you to do anything.
“That’s your job,” you fired back, wearing a cocky grin as he scoffed. “Anyways, if you must know, it’s because I cut off the balls of their king.”
“You what?!”
“Hush up, will you?” you snapped, pressing the bottle against his lips. “Do you want us to get caught?”
Yoongi swiped the bottle from you, taking a small sip and handing it back to you. “Alright, tell me what happened.”
“I thought I was getting an interview to be the head of the military, and I ended up getting interviewed to be some sort of sex doll, Yoongi,” you murmured, making Yoongi’s brows jumped. “Anyways, he made a move on me, and I didn’t like where he was putting his bedazzled tentacle, so I cut off the balls of his octo-dick. You know, I heard they cut off the balls of male rapists in India, and then they can’t reproduce because the semen factory is gone. At least that’s what my fifth-grade teacher said when she was high.”
“This is insane,” Yoongi shook his head. “They’re trying to kill you because you were almost raped?”
“Well, you know how it works,” you shrugged. “Convicted of something, and someone privileged either gets the story dismissed or goes through a punishment 1/10th of what they actually deserve. And because he was the king, of course, no one really knew the real story, and I’m accused of treason and attempted murder.”
“Well, removing his testicles might’ve been a bit extreme,” Yoongi points out, receiving a glare from you.
“We do it to dogs all the time, Yoongi,” you mutter. “It’s called getting someone fixed. He was a bitch anyway, am I right? Am I right or am I right Yoongi? Yoongi?”
“Be quiet! I hear someone!” he says, slapping a hand over your mouth. You grumble, licking a stripe along his palm and causing him to wipe his hand against his pajama bottoms, disgusted.
“A to the G to the U to the STD-”
“How is your phone able to receive calls on an entirely different planet?!” Yoongi asks, flabbergasted once he heard your ringtone.
You rolled your eyes, turning it off. “Yoongi, I’m a genius who builds robots and travels to other dimensions, how could I not figure out how to do that?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, “You know someone could’ve found out our location.”
“You’re acting grumpier than a man who’s two wives left him, is currently doing cocaine with hookers, and paying them with the money the government gives him for mental illness he faked and is yelling cuss words at baseball games while his psychiatrist sits behind him as he’s unaware,” you roll your eyes.
“How are you so specific about these things?”
“I’ve seen things. There are tons of universes with problems just like ours. Like teenage girls who are forced to keep the baby and end up getting kicked out of their homes and have to become strippers or prostitutes to live and eat and just end up getting addicted to heroine. Or perhaps the little boys who are abused by their girlfriends and can’t tell anyone or risk their masculinity. Or the people who are repeatedly told they don’t have a mental illness because apparently, they don’t exist.”
“Alright, you’re getting dark. What are we going to do? We’ll get caught eventually,” Yoongi huffs.
“It’s fine,” you say. “Besides, we need to get to the palace. I wouldn’t doubt if the king himself would be the one holding that underrated and practically unknown talent from the world. He’s an awful man, Yoongi, the one who’s more terrifying than the portrayals of him. He’s the one who haunts kids, who causes the worst dreams and inhabits your nightmares!”
A chill ran down Yoongi’s spine at your description, though he refused to show it. “What is he, a werewolf?”
“Say, have you ever had sex with a werewolf?” you ask him, getting side-tracked. “I don’t mean that midnight sparkle bullshit, I mean like an actual werewolf. Man, definitely something I’ll go back to. Wasn’t bestiality necessarily, but if it is considered bestiality, it’s never felt better.”
“Y/N!” Yoongi snaps, trying to keep a straight face. “Stop getting perverted and side-tracked for five seconds and figure out how we can get this Uranus chick?”
“It’s Mars, you uncultured swine,” you fire back, pursing your lips. “Alright, I’ll whip something up.” You take one last swig of the bottle, and toss it to the side, getting up and running off.
Yoongi’s eyes were wide, “Wait, are you leaving me here? Y/N? Y/N!”
He must’ve screamed too loud because the horde of the laser-shooting monsters was now running towards him, discovering his hiding place and he was already running. God, he should’ve slept in, he loves to sleep, why’d he agree to this?
Tampons and lasers were shooting through the air, and soon enough it was just him and Marsha, who was crying while pointing her gun directly at him, pressing the barrel against his forehead. “Drop your weapon!” she shouted out, her throat swelled and a gurgling sound accompanying her cries.
Yoongi dropped the tampon-gun, which had run out of tampons not too long ago, and he was silently praying for you to finally show up like usual and fuck shit up.
“You’re going to die today, twerp,” Marsha hisses, pressing it harder against his head. “This is all your fault.”
A shot fires and Marsha crumbles, her shoulder bleeding out from the wound. Yoongi sees nothing there until you take off a necklace, revealing yourself and a crazy and brightly-colored gun by your side. “You got receipts, Judge Judy?” you say snidely. You shoot in her head about three more times, positive she’s dead.
“Where were you?” Yoongi asked, trying to catch his breath.
“I had to go to a planet of tiny bigfoots to get a legally-safe necklace,” you say, holding it out. “This’ll help us sneak in. I’ll be recognized on the spot, I’m too popular. Those D-Bags once tried to arrest me when I was eating fucking waffles, but it took them forever to actually do it. A lot of the time these idiots just stand around and wait for you to murder one of them.”
Yoongi raises a brow. “How am I going to sneak into the palace? For fuck’s sake I jus murdered someone again.”
“We’ll dress you as a butler. Trust me, these guys are idiots. If you have a bowtie on they won’t even think twice about if you’re human. And if any one of these pea-brains suspects, my invisible ass can knock them the fuck out,” you say, holding up the special gun. “I made this out of a kid’s water gun and alien testicles.”
“What?!”
“I’m kidding,” you laugh. “It wasn’t a water gun, it was a Nerf gun. Man, that prep shit is great.”
“That’s disgusting,” Yoongi grimaces.
“And I’m still going to be sucking your dick tonight,” you wink. “Now, I’m getting hornier by the minute, so let’s get this over with.”
True enough, when Yoongi had on a bow tie, no one seemed to recognize him as someone who caused a rampage just half an hour ago. You snuck him in the palace by opening certain doors, and he could hear the small beeps and such from whatever invisible gadget you were working with, and he swore he could feel a bit of your lab coat brushing against his leg.
“We’re almost to the King’s bedroom,” you say. “Argo’s hot as shit, so no doubt he’s doing terrible things to her. We can rescue her of course, but we also need to shoot the bastard.”
Yoongi wasn’t quite able to hear what you were saying, mainly because a maid who walked past kept on muttering, “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job,” and he was too busy trying to not seem suspicious, though he trusted your plan.
“I want to go to bed,” Yoongi grumbles.
“And you also want to be top for once, but clearly not everything goes your way,” you grumble, and Yoongi rolls his eyes at your ribbing. “And we’re here!”
An electrical door was before you two, and a code had to be punched in. Yoongi spied how the buttons were pressed down in a complex and intricate, rather random, order, and soon the door shot up and revealed the room. You slipped off the necklace, entering the room as the two of you stared at the walls, which were worn and a faded yellow.
“It’s like fifty shades of depression,” you grumble. “Where’s Argo?”
Yoongi’s eyes searched the room, and he tugged at your sleeve. “By any chance, would it be the chick in the corner?” You turned to look at the direction he was pointing towards, and sure enough, the blonde girl was in the corner, shivering.
“ARGO!” you exclaimed. “Big fan, how are you doing girl?” The girl didn’t respond, just shivering still. You narrowed your eyes, going closer.
“Y/N, she might be traumatized,” Yoongi warned. “Are you sure you want to-” You gripped onto her hair, yanking her head off, and Yoongi was stunned, jaw dropping. “What the fuck?!”
“This isn’t Mars Argo!” you say, spiteful. “This is… this is a vibrating sex doll!”
“You’re joking,” Yoongi gaped. “Also where do I buy one?”
You swatted his arm, glaring at him. “And you call me a pervert.”
“You are!” Yoongi said, giving you the typical ‘wtf’ stare.
Suddenly the two of you heard some clapping, and a figure slid out from under the bed, similar to Rosé’s slide in Boombayah. You cross your arms as the figure stops clapping, standing to reveal that he was a shadowy creature, with elongated features and long, talon-like fingers, the tips as sharp as knives.
“I’d hate to be the girl fingered by that guy,” you whisper to Yoongi, and he cringes away from you. You glare at the figure. “Hello, Your Majesty. Apparently, the Boogey Man himself isn’t above the slow clap entrance.”
��And apparently the mad scientist isn’t above the 'pointing out how lame the slow clap entrance is’ cliche,” the figure fires back. “Who’s your friend?”
“Min Yoongi,” you comment. You look to the boy, gesturing to the creature before you. “Boogey Man.”
“You’re the Boogey Man?” Yoongi asks.
The creature crosses his arms crossly, “What’d you expect?”
“I don’t know, maybe that living beanbag full of bugs? Like from The Nightmare Before Christmas?”
“What’s that?” the Boogey Man asks.
“American pop culture reference,” you say. “Unimportant. Where’s Argo?”
“Ah,” the Boogey Man chuckled. “We knew you’d come for her, so once we got news that you killed someone- as you always do- we sent her home. Don’t worry, she’s on her way to Earth now.”
“Wait, hold up, why is the Boogey Man the king of some alien planet?” Yoongi asks, baffled. “Is no one questioning this?”
“Yoongi,” you sigh. “We don’t have time to discuss the history of the Boogey Man. Next thing you know you’ll want me to say how I sunk Atlantis!”
“Wait, you did what!?”
“Anyways,” you dismiss him. “How’d you know I’d go after her? She hasn’t been seen for years, man. For all you knew I couldn’t care less.”
“Lucky guess,” the creature shrugged. “Next time we’ll kidnap him,” he pointed to Yoongi.
“Oh fuck no,” Yoongi said. His eyes wandered around the room, and he spotted something similar to your newly crafted gun and grabbed it, pointing it at the Boogey Man. “Try shit and I’ll shoot you with this.”
You grimaced, face palming. “Yoongi… you’re… Yoongi you’re holding a space dildo.”
“What?!” he stared down at his weapon of choice in horror and remembered you saying something about your gun being made with alien testicles. He dropped it, grimacing and wiping his hands frantically against his clothes. “Oh dear God.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and handing him the necklace. “You need this more than I do, so it seems.” You turn to the Boogey man, “Why’d you lure me here after what I did to you last time?”
“I want my genitals back,” he hissed, shaking a fist at you. “And then, I’ll kill you!”
You quirk a brow, a smirk being plastered over your face. “Is that so? Why didn’t you say so! I have it right here.” You pull out the new gun you made, and Yoongi had the most horrified expression, as did the Boogey Man.
“My beautiful testicles!” he shouted out. “You’ll pay!”
Yoongi simply facepalmed, shaking his head. “What is wrong with you people?”
“Come and get them,” you hissed, beginning to shoot at him. He shot down under the bed, a low hiss that was rather snake-like coming from underneath. You shot at the bed, seeing him climb from behind to latch and crawl onto the wall, and he pounced.
Yoongi’s scream of fear was well earned, and the Boogey Man had his talon-like fingers around the boy’s neck, the tips barely piercing the soft skin. “I’ll kill him first,” the Boogey Man hissed out.
Yoongi knew you’d probably shoot anyway, regardless of whether or not he was in the Boogey Man’s grasp, so he thought quick. Throwing the necklace over his head, and the Boogey Man jumped back in surprise, and Yoongi had to duck down as the monster swiped and clawed at the air. Yoongi crawled on all fours, hearing you call out, “Atta boy, Yoongi! Yoongi my man, Yoongi. Yoongi, dunno where you are, but try not to get caught. Got that Yoongi?”
Yoongi huffed in response, crawling to the side as you began wildly shooting at the monster, though it jumped from the walls and crawled on the ceiling. Jesus, that thing was creepy.
“You’re probably a pedophile!” you shout at him. “Hiding beneath kids’ beds and all! Pervert! Take this! Die already! Pew pew mother fucker!”
You shot wildly, and Yoongi wasn’t exactly sure how much ammo you had left. Thinking fast (and cringing all the while) he grabbed what he mistook as a gun earlier and threw it at the back of the monster’s head, causing it to be surprised and fall to the floor. You took the opportunity to shoot him in the leg, rendering him immobile. You stepped on the creature’s neck, pressing the gun against his head and twisting his arms behind his back.
“You’re going to be killed with your own balls,” you tell him. “And you deserve it for making me come all this way for nothing!”
“Please!” the Boogey Man cried out. “Have mercy! I’ll do anything! People will perish if I die, and all will go into anarchy and-”
You fired, and the Boogey Man was dead. Huffing, you stretched your arms, scrunching your nose. “Does that look like my problem?”
Yoongi slipped off the necklace, becoming visible once again as he looked to the Boogey Man. “You know, I figured he’d have a sack over his head or something.”
“He’ll be having a body sack soon,” you shrug.
“Should we be concerned with the future of this planet since their king is dead?” Yoongi asks.
“Nah,” you shrug. “Yoongi, am I really the type to be concerned with this shit? You know me, I’m an asshole who’s a slight alcoholic. But I’m a genius, so it makes up for it.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Yoongi shrugs. “You’re a dick. Most times. Other times you almost seem as though you have some level of humanity.”
“Oh I need to fix that,” you grumble. “No more of that fucking bullshit. Anyways, let’s get to the ship, I’ve been horny for the past hour or something and I need to let off some steam from that fucking Boogey Man.” You pull out the portal gun, aiming at the wall, and the familiar green swirl appeared.
“I don’t understand your sexual appetite sometimes,” Yoongi shakes his head. He’s been wide awake now, especially after the Boogey Man, and he could definitely fall back asleep with what you’d sometimes call 'Nyquil’.
“You know what should’ve happened? Dance battle, I mean, they’ve got to call him 'Boogey’ Man for some reason,” you say. “Man, that was disappointing. I didn’t even get to meet Mars Argo!”
“You know she probably won’t make music still, after being kidnapped by aliens and all,” Yoongi points out.
“Way to put the cherry on top of a pretty disappointing day, Yoongi,” you say. “Now, let’s just hope you don’t disappoint me. You’re lucky I’ve seen and sat on your dick so many times I know it’s not the size of a goldfish. This is my reward for you because you did a good job today. Don’t upset me where I revoke blowing privileges.”
Yoongi laughed hard at that, following you as you climbed through the portal, landing inside the spaceship, which was evidently in your workshop that you stowed away in an abandoned factory.
“You know, I’m pretty sure you mentioned you wanted to fuck in here once,” you mention as the portal closes.
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, watching as you slowly remove the lab coat tied around your waist, pushing it to the side. He admitted to you one of the nights he agreed to get drunk with you that he wanted to have sex in the back of your ship, since not only it was it roomier, but c'mon, how often do you have sex in the back of a space ship? Granted it was apparently made from parts of robot prostitutes, but Yoongi learned from you not to overthink things and to just relax. Or, rather, let chaos ensue. Whatever floats your boat.
He let you take control, letting out a sigh of content as your pants yanked down his pajama bottoms and boxers, taking his dick in your hand and slowly pumping him.  You sit between his legs as he sits in the backseat, and he watches to see your hand travel into your pants, rubbing yourself in front of him. Yoongi bit his lip, giving you a dark look as you wore a mischievous look on your face.
You offered a small kitten lick at the tip, making Yoongi hiss out slightly. You were the type to drag out teasing for extended about of times, but tonight you owed him this, so that meant you couldn’t torture him forever as you would’ve preferred. You knew it, and soon enough your lips wrapped around the head, and you slowly sunk down his length. Your tongue was pressing against the shaft of his dick, the warm muscle making him hiss in pleasure.
He let out a low groan as the head made contact with the back of your throat, which was an incredibly soft spot. It took a lot of self-restraint to avoid bucking up into your mouth, and you stayed there, swallowing around him. The sensation had a low moan slipping from between his lips, and he could tell that really turned you on.
Your hand was rubbing faster and faster in your pants, the hand motions small but furious, and when Yoongi’s eyes weren’t trying to roll to the back of his head with each time you swallowed around him, he tried to peek down at your hand as you rubbed yourself vigorously.
His hands curled into fists at his sides as your mouth popped off of him, and you inhaled greedy amounts of air. “Are you enjoying this so far, Yoongi?” you purr to him.
“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Yeah. God, you’re great at that.”
Both of your hands reached up to grip his cock, the one glistening with your juices already sliding up and down his length, and the other massaging his balls. You batted up at him, your eyes seductive and pupils blown out with lust. “Want me to ride you, Yoongi?”
He bit his lip, “Please.”
You smirked, “Perfect.” Quickly, you slipped your pants off, dragging your underwear down your legs as well. You climbed up onto the seat, straddling Yoongi’s hips as he leaned back, letting you take control. Your hips swayed, your heat hovering directly over his, and you gripped onto his length, keeping it upright and still as you started rubbing yourself against him. The feeling was pure torture, but he knew you wouldn’t let him get rewarded without a little teasing.
Slowly you sank down on him, and as you did so you sank your teeth down on his shoulder, biting down as he filled you. “You fill me up so good, Yoongi,” you moaned out, and soon your lips were attached to his neck, sucking tentatively as you moved up and down his length, letting him have a moan of content, a chill running down his spine at your words
Ironically enough, the only time you weren’t saying something absolutely ridiculous and inappropriate or being an absolute pervert was during sex. The only time you weren’t making asshole-type comments towards him (though, to be fair he had his moments where he did it back to you, and nothing was taken personally of course), was when you were whispering dirty things in his ear instead.
Sometimes Yoongi wondered why he was going on those wild adventures with you when he could be focusing more on his studies or perhaps sleeping since you cut into that schedule so often. Truthfully he wouldn’t trade your adventures for the world because while he always acted annoyed with them, in reality, they were the highlight of his day or week. Except for the murder parts, he wasn’t so keen on that.
But the parts that really made it all worth it? This. When you were riding him vigorously, sweat forming on your forehead as you moved up and down his cock. When you’d give him pleasure and continue to reach your own, murmuring things about how much you loved riding him and how good his cock made you feel. Your hand was rubbing fast circles around your clit, and strands of your hair were sticking to your neck and forehead, a thin sheen of sweat making you seem shiny.
“Yoongi, just like that,” you panted in his ear, one of your hands coming up to grip onto him. “I’m so close, Yoongi, can you feel me squeezing around your dick? God, I’m so close, I’ll spasm over your cock, I swear.”
Your favorite thing was talking dirty, and Yoongi simply smiled at your words as you stroked his ego. He felt how your walls clenched around his length, and he hissed at the sensation, his hands on your hips as he guided your hips. You felt so warm around him, and from how your whimpers and moan were getting breathy and higher, he knew you were close to your orgasm.
“I’m gonna cum,” you breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You still around him, and he feels how your walls tighten around him, and your legs quiver the slightest bit at the sensation, and you press your sweaty forehead against his shoulder, panting hard.
“You good?” Yoongi murmured.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Cum in me, Yoongi.”
He worked at maneuvering your hips, having you bounce on top of him once again, and you do your best to clench your walls around him, adding more friction to your otherwise slippery walls to get him to cum. He makes fast thrusts and pumps into you, chasing his high as he felt it rise up, and before he knew it he was filling you up, and both of you were panting, sweaty messes.
“Oh, fuck,” he murmured, and you slipped off of him, hovering the slightest bit. He watched as your hands dived beneath your heat, slipping between your legs. You brought them out, the small digits coated in the white, slippery liquid of both of your cum. Yoongi opened his mouth obediently, and you slipped the fingers in his hot cavern, letting him swirl his tongue around it and swallow the liquid.
“You like your own cum?” you smirk. He only hums in response, staring at you darkly. You giggle, pecking his lips as you climbed off. “I need to go to the restroom to pee now, thanks a lot. I give that a 7 out of 10 because we couldn’t use the toys. But it made my day better.”
“You’re such a fucking dick,” Yoongi laughs, his gummy smile showing that he was satisfied. He could still taste the weird mixture on his tongue.
You winked at him, pulling on your pants and panties, tying your lab coat around your waist. “Don’t act so mortified. You love it.”
“As if,” he scoffed.
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doctor-paprika · 7 years ago
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Heroin sucks.
I have no followers, so I guess I am using this as a diary entry that no one will see but can help me vent a bit.
I am learning how to tumblr so have been randomly searching any interests that come to mind. Of course, one of the first I could think of was heroin/addiction recovery, but very few results came up. After that, I stupidly just searched the word “heroin” and the results really brought me down (lower than I already was, which was surprising.)
A few accounts were splattered with pictures of Kurt Cobain, which didn’t surprise me. Soon I saw several accounts with videos of people shooting up, people talking about how much they love heroin and other drugs, and of course, people talking of how they may be addicts, but they aren’t dirty junkies!
When I was 14 I began eating pills. Benzos were fun, but opiates were my favourite. I took them from medicine cabinets and kept myself in steady supply that way. Years passed, I graduated high school, fell in and out of a few relationships, and eventually began seeing someone who had been using heroin for a while. They would leave the room to shoot up, but one night I told them to stay, and I asked them to share.
I was 19, had a good job, a reliable car, over $4k in the bank I had earned every penny of on my own, a good relationship with my parents, and a few people I called friends.
I don’t want to sit here and put down my partner at the time because it is counterproductive. All I will say is that they were 26, had never had a job, a driver’s license, a high school diploma, but got lots of money given to them without question by their mother.
I say this just to give you (the person who is not reading this) an idea of my situation at the time.
I loved my first shot. There was no mark left on my arm, which shocked me. Before this, I had needed four nurses to hold me down to get a tetanus shot, but suddenly the fear was gone. I didn’t want to bring up doing it again, so was very excited when my partner asked a few days later if I would like to join them in shooting up again. The second time was even better than the first.
The lies came quickly. Calls to my job, claiming my car was broken down. Calls to my parents coming up with various reasons as to why I wouldn’t be home that night. The few friends I had became unimportant, I had new “friends” that I met through my partner, and they either sold, used, or both.
A few months after I turned 20 I quit my job, officially moved in with my partner, and had begun to spend almost every moment of every day coming up with ways to get heroin. I felt like a cool adult, able to make my own decisions and get high whenever I wanted! What fun!
Without having to pay for food, rent, or anything but heroin, I ran out of my $4k in less than a year. I had been saving all of my money from age 15-19 and it was gone in just a few months. I also got my car taken from me by my parents. My partners mom knew that we used, she sobbed about it, yelled about it, and acted like it was the worst thing that could have ever happened to her… but would still give us $100-300 a day so we wouldn’t get sick, and provided a nice, new car for us.
I was lucky to live in the Bay Area, because all it took was a fifteen minute drive to Oakland and I had access to dozens of dealers. There were also many needle exchanges around the city in which each person could get 400 free, new clean needles and all the ties, cooks, cottons, and anything else a heroin addict could need, including a limited supply of Narcan - which I always kept on me after having OD’d myself once and watching another friend OD, and having us both be saved by the opioid antagonist.
Oh, and I began smoking crack. Lots of crack. Crack was great! And heroin was a perfect comedown! I was awake most hours of every day, and spent almost every second of those hours worrying about how the next hour would go.
By the time my parents found out about my use, I was 22. They had been my best friends and now we were completely out of contact. My mom would occasionally stop by the apartment my partner and I shared with their mom, but by then I had begun living in the car we had, because being in Oakland all the time was easier than having to drive there every day.
My partners mom would occasionally go through periods where she decided to cut us off. She was married to an alcoholic whose health was declining so had to tend to his addiction more than ours at that point. I had never imagined myself having to fly a sign for money, but now I was doing it all day, every day, and most of the time was stuck standing out there sick. Lots of homeless people live on the streets of Oakland, so to get a good spot to stand you needed to get out early, and find some confidence to fight others who wanted your spot. I had shit thrown at me, usually open drink containers, I got yelled at to get a job, to get the fuck off the median, to kill myself. I didn’t understand what I was doing to offend these people so bad. My least favorite part was the men who would hold out a dollar, just to pull it in once I got close and show me their dick before laughing and driving off - and the worst of that was one who actually came on my hand, he could have at least gave me the dollar after!
Once my partners mom was at the hospital daily with her rapidly declining husband, waiting for him to get a liver transplant that eventually came too late, we began staying at the apartment more. Every wall became covered in blood spatter, shot from rigs that had become blocked with coagulated blood. You could not see one inch of the floor, as it was covered in used rigs and bloody rags. Surprisingly, we didn’t get the security deposit back! I will always feel terrible that I let my cat live in that fucked up place.
I joined a methadone clinic a few times to try to avoid going through withdrawal, but I would always stop going because the drive there took away time I could have spent flying my sign, smoking crack, or shooting dope.
I was 23, my job was flying a sign, my car was in three accidents that left it barely functioning, had no money for longer than a few minutes (more usually a few hours because dealers were generally slow movers), was out of contact with my parents for thirteen months, and I didn’t have one friend. I had also gotten below 90lbs, which didn’t go well with my 5'8" body - inside or out. You know you’re at rock bottom when you have old crack dealers with no teeth telling you how unhealthy you look.
You know what my most commonly used phrases during those years were? • “I’m not a junkie, I’m a functioning addict!” • “I’m not a dirty crackhead, I take showers, brush my teeth, and wash my face (in the bathroom at Safeway.)” • “My parents/friends are so stupid, they don’t get that I’m totally fine. I’m better than fine, this stuff makes me feel great! If they tried it, they’d know!” • “I know *drug dealers name* takes a long time to meet up, but we’re friends! Not like how it is for them with all the junkies out here!” • “I’ve never had to whore myself out, I’ve never been to jail, I’m not like these nasty junkies out here..”
You know what kind of things I did that I thought were totally normal and definitely didn’t make me a mentally ill drug abuser? • searched the floor of my car for lost crack rocks for hours, tearing apart any parts of it I could - one time even thinking I had found a big chunk of crack and immediately smoked it, but it was a popcorn kernel! Worst thing I’ve ever smelled or tasted. • gone through every inch of my partners mom’s room to find any loose change or gold jewelery I could sell. • sold every book, videogame, DVD, CD, and any item I owned that I could get even a dollar for, including things I had had since my childhood that had incredible sentimental value. • sold every Safeway giftcard my partners mother would give us for 75% of its value, knowing it meant my partner and I would have no food for the foreseeable future. ¹ • then spent the money we got for the giftcard on crack, knowing that without food in our system we would throw up bile after each hit. • had to shit so badly after taking a hit of crack that I went on a curb where others could see, in the middle of the day, and then taken another hit right when I was done. • taken suboxone sooner than I knew I should have, and proceeded to vomit non-stop while driving, followed my shitting my pants three times, selling a PS4 that belonged to my partners friend, and driving to meet a dealer while still vomiting and wearing my shit filled pants.
Too much information? Gross? It’s weird for me to talk about it, because I have incredibly bad anxiety and don’t like to be open about more than I have to be, but drug addiction is gross and people need to realize that. There are people out there buying clothes and accessories with “Xanax” and “Percoset” labeled on them! Alcohol is glamourized in the media all the time! And the worst part is, I get it. I get that feeling that of independence, that feeling of being cooler than others, that feeling of finally having found something to calm down my brain even a little bit and falling head over heels for it, that feeling of doing something illegal and scary and the adrenaline rush from it.
When I was in middle school there was an assembly where a man talked about his drug use. It ended with him saying quitting cigarettes was harder than quitting heroin. Once I got addicted to heroin, I knew that was complete bullshit. I wish there was a way to tell kids, adults, anyone who might be considering using that they should do anything else, that their lives can so easily be ruined for who knows how long, but unfortunately most will only learn from experience.
Addicts are demonized, we are looked at as scum, as monsters, as those you should stay far from. Addicts are people. Many addicts are brilliant minds that suffer from mental illnesses, some known and some not. I knew I was mentally ill, but the therapy groups gave me anxiety and the meds didn’t work quick enough so I took the route I felt would be easier, which proved to be the opposite. Addiction is a disease, whether people choose to believe it or not. The biggest argument I have heard against this is that addicts choose what has happened to them. Do you put down a diabetic, even if they are only dealing with that disease because they ate tons of pies and cakes every day? Do you put down a person with cancer, even if they are only dealing with that disease because they tanned themselves in the sun or under tanning booths every day? I chose to use heroin, I chose to use crack, I chose to eat pills, I chose to drink, but I did not choose to be an addict. Long before I did any of those drugs I was addicted to picking at my skin, addicted to cleaning, addicted to exercising and watching my diet very closely, but no on has ever put me down for having dermatillomania, for having OCD, or for having anorexia.
Those with mental illness are looked at as lesser beings, as being incompetent, as needing to be pushed aside and stepped on. But we are strong, we are bright, and we deserve love and acceptance.
I have been off of heroin since early 2014, but I will be celebrating my one year date of being completely clean and sober in eleven days. I never think about drugs anymore, until I see videos of others shooting up, text or images promoting the addict lifestyle, and unfortunately for me those are all too common and too easily found.
If you are an addict, ask for help. If you suffer from, or even think you may suffer from, any mental illness, ask for help. Even if it is hard to find at first, it is out there. Therapy, medications, rehabilitation and the like are out there.
But, you’re not reading this are you? Like I said, this is just a way for a rambling, ex-junkie to vent.
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gorgeousdan · 8 years ago
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notdanhowell
summary: Dan has a guilty pleasure: phan blogs. It’s a mixture of conceited arrogance and morbid curiosity, really. And really, it’s a mixture of these two things that lead to him catfishing members of his phandom and becoming a headcanon blog. After all, what harm can one headcanon do? word count: 1323/20,000 (why’s it so short?) warnings (this chapter): mentions of sex (dan writes a dirty hc)
LAST CHAPTER |  NEXT CHAPTER
Three a.m rolls around again and Dan finds himself in notdanhowell’s inbox looking for something to write. It’s like a monster has been unlocked in him since he wrote that stupid kissing headcanon, like a bad upgrade in a video game. All he can think about is kissing Phil, touching Phil, doing frankly inappropriate things to someone who’s supposed to be his best friend.
But it’s fine if he writes about it, okay? Then it’s not a fantasy, it’s fanservice. He doesn’t have a problem. It’s fine.
Dan scrolls through a few of the prompts. There are some that make him laugh, like him and Phil using glitter lube in a public washroom, a few that scare him, like one where he’s Phil’s slave and he’s locked up and that might actually be illegal?
superpaperclip said:
hc about what d & p are like in bed? love your blog, dani!
Meg stares him down in their profile photo. Dan lets out a resound sigh.
Why not?
notdanhowell said:
dan’s probably loud. the neighbors probably bang on the walls to get him to shut up. dan’s favorite position is riding phil, where he gets to be in charge while still getting fucked, because lbr we all know that dan’s a whore for cock. he also likes when phil’s on top of him so that he can scratch up phil’s back, leave red marks that mark phil as his.
phil probably has more control than dan does in bed. he’s not loud, but he enjoys it anyway. the noises phil makes are probably deep and go right to dan’s dick. his favorite position is either reverse cowgirl, so he can watch dan’s ass as it moves because dan’s ass is noice, or missionary, because phil’s probably a romantic little shit who likes to stare into dan’s eyes.
Dan tags the ask appropriately and presses post. He can’t help but think about it, Phil hovering over him, kissing down his neck, telling him what a good boy he’s being.
Dan’s door squeaks open. Dan jumps, slams his laptop lid shut. Phil’s standing in the doorway with his duvet wrapped around his body. He stands there for a minute. “I couldn’t sleep,” he says, and his voice sounds tired. “Can I come sleep in here?”
Dan puts his laptop to the side. He doesn’t say anything, but lifts his duvet in invitation. Phil gets under, puts his own over the two of them.
“What’s up with the lack of sleep, Mr. Lester?” Dan asks. He scoots over a bit so that Phil will have room to sleep next to him.
Phil sighs. His eyes are closed, but Dan can tell he’s awake. Years of being someone’s best friend means you know these kinds of things about them. “I was worried about you,” he says.
Now it’s Dan’s turn to sigh. Despite the conversation they had on the tube, he knew Phil wasn’t going to drop it. It just wasn’t like his best friend. “I told you that you don’t have to be.”
“I know.” Phil opens his eyes and turns so that he can lean his head against his hand. He uses his free hand to grab Dan’s, laces their fingers together. “I just don’t like the idea of you being lost in your head.”
Dan pulls Phil to his chest at that. Phil tangles their legs together, and despite the fact that they’re both tall, lanky guys, it’s nice. Phil sighs a little bit and Dan can tell that he thinks so too.
They fall asleep twinned together like this, and Dan can’t help but feel a little bit bad.
-
Dan wakes up the next morning to his phone ringing. It somehow doesn’t wake Phil up, the heavy sleeper he is, but Dan groans at the loud ringing. He turns onto his side to look who it is. His mum. Great. This should be fun.
Don’t get him wrong, Dan loves his mum. It’s just that every time she calls, Dan can expect the same “got a partner, yet?” talk. Honestly, it’s kind of aggravating. It’s not as if he doesn’t want to have a partner, it’s just that getting one would require going outside and talking to people and meeting people. Dan much prefers staying inside with Phil and watching anime or the Great British Bakeoff.
Christ, he’s got it bad, hasn’t he?
Dan answers it with a soft, “yeah, hello?” so as not to wake his best friend.
“Dan!” calls his mum. Dan can’t help but smile at her voice. He truly does love her. “Did I wake you?”
Dan runs a hand through his hair. He grabs Phil’s phone so he can check the time. Half past nine. “Yeah,” he answers truthfully. “But that’s probably for the best. Millennials like me will sleep until one in the afternoon.”
Dan’s mother laughs. “Don’t I kno-”
She’s cut off by a groan from behind Dan as Phil blinks awake. “Dan?” he says, and his voice is so thick with sleep that Dan knows his mother won’t be able to miss it. “Who’s that?”
“My mum,” Dan mouths. Phil nods his understanding and motions that he’s going to the kitchen. As soon as Phil leaves, Dan’s mother is talking his ear off.  
“That was Phil, right?” she asks. “Why was he in your bedroom?”
Dan sighs. “He just fell asleep in here last night, mum.”
“Are you two dating?”
“No. We’re just friends.”
“Do you want to be more?”
Dan takes a deep breath at that. Does he want to be more than friends with Phil? Of course he does. He wants to be Phil’s boyfriend and kiss him and have lazy sex with him in candlelight. Well, that sounds a little dangerous but. You know.
But he can’t tell his mother any of this, because she wouldn’t understand what it’s like to be an angsty twenty something with an online personality where he writes fanfiction where he’s fucking his best friend. “I gotta go, mum. Phil’s made breakfast.”
Dan’s mum sighs, and he can tell this isn’t the last he’s going to hear of it. “This isn’t the last we’re going to talk about this,” she confirms. “Love you lots. Be safe.”
“I will. Love you too. Bye.”
Dan hangs up the phone and throws it onto his bed. He stretches out his back, which is knotted from sleeping with Phil on top of him all night.
Not that you’re complaining, Dan’s brain supplies unhelpfully. Dan resists the urge to slap himself.
Dan walks into the kitchen, where Phil is currently pouring a second bowl of cereal. Dan takes the first, bites into it. “Morning,” he greets his best friend.
“Morning,” Phil replies. He puts the cereal and the milk back, leaves the cabinet open. Dan pushes it closed with a fond eyeroll. As soon as he does, Phil’s looking over at him. “How gay does your mum think we are for each other?” he asks.
Dan laughs. “Pretty god damn gay,” he answers. “Just like all of our friends, basically.”
Phil scoffs. He puts his bowl down on their counter and gives Dan a look that means it’s time to be serious.
Dan sips his tea and braces himself.
“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Phil asks. At Dan’s raised eyebrow, he elaborates. “I mean, it’s stupid that everyone thinks we’re dating. Because we’re not. Just because we’re secure in our friendship and sexuality and like to cuddle doesn’t mean we’re anything other than friends.”
Dan swallows his tea. “Right?” He says. “Like, if we wanted to date,” he swallows. “Like, we just would.”
“Right?” Phil asks.
“Right,” Dan confirms.
The two of them stand in a silence that’s vaguely awkward for a moment. Then, Phil says, “I’ve got an episode of the Great British Bakeoff on DVR.”
Dan accepts the peace offering. “Cool,” he says. “Let’s go.”
Dan ignores the texts from his mother.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Thank you to all the people who signed up to be a part of notdanhowell! It was actually so many people that I don’t know if I’ll manage to get everyone (I’m sorry!) but I’ll definitely give everyone a thanks in the final author’s note.
I actually really like this chapter for no reason. Hope you do too.
Please reblog to spread the word about my blog! Also, a thanks to @superpaperclip for letting me use their URL and sully their good name lmao. I hope I did you justice, Meg. 
Thanks y’all 
-Seb
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