An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 11/13
Fandom: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Characters: Elsa (Disney), Anna (Disney), Rapunzel (Disney), Eugene (Disney), Cassandra (Mentioned), Rafiki (The Lion King), Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Unrelated Anna/Elsa (Disney), supernatural themes, Spiritual themes, Soulmates, Feelings, Falling In Love, Some angst, Jealousy, some sexual tension, Making Out, Teasing, Playful teasing, Summer season, car accident mentioned, Jobs, Time Skips, Human Rafiki, Rapunzel/Eugene - Freeform, Elsanna - Freeform, I might add more tags if needed
Summary:
With things working out in her favor, Anna managed to move to another apartment closer to her new workplace.
But what she couldn’t say, was that she was expecting the very peculiar roommate that came along with it, or all the things she’d be willing to do for her.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 10/13
Fandom: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Characters: Elsa (Disney), Anna (Disney), Rapunzel (Disney), Eugene (Disney), Cassandra (Mentioned), Rafiki (The Lion King), Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Unrelated Anna/Elsa (Disney), supernatural themes, Spiritual themes, Soulmates, Feelings, Falling In Love, Some angst, Jealousy, some sexual tension, Making Out, Teasing, Playful teasing, Summer season, car accident mentioned, Jobs, Time Skips, Human Rafiki, Rapunzel/Eugene - Freeform, Elsanna - Freeform, I might add more tags if needed
Summary:
With things working out in her favor, Anna managed to move to another apartment closer to her new workplace.
But what she couldn’t say, was that she was expecting the very peculiar roommate that came along with it, or all the things she’d be willing to do for her.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 10/13
Fandom: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Characters: Elsa (Disney), Anna (Disney), Rapunzel (Disney), Eugene (Disney), Cassandra (Mentioned), Rafiki (The Lion King), Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Unrelated Anna/Elsa (Disney), supernatural themes, Spiritual themes, Soulmates, Feelings, Falling In Love, Some angst, Jealousy, some sexual tension, Making Out, Teasing, Playful teasing, Summer season, car accident mentioned, Jobs, Time Skips, Human Rafiki, Rapunzel/Eugene - Freeform, Elsanna - Freeform, I might add more tags if needed
Summary:
With things working out in her favor, Anna managed to move to another apartment closer to her new workplace.
But what she couldn’t say, was that she was expecting the very peculiar roommate that came along with it, or all the things she’d be willing to do for her.
title: bedridden
pairing: leto atreides x f!reader
rating: r , explicit
summary: his eyes peel open , heavy-lidded as they rake down the salacious dip along your spine — oh , what a lovely sight to wake up to .
x-post: here .
content : leto is younger , probably in his 20s before he met lady jessica . non-canon , because canonically that man is hecking loyal to a fault . smut . mild angst . morning sex . sixty-nine . oral m!receiving . blowjob . oral f!receiving . v fingering . cunnilingus .
a/n : i be yapping again in my writing . sorry if this is such a mess , but i hope you enjoy nonetheless .
//
It is a disappointing revelation for someone like Leto to learn that he is not invincible after all.
He knew he should’ve called off the training sessions with the royal platoon, when the heavy rainstorm persists for weeks. When he finally falls sick, bedridden and stripped of any ounce of strength he has left in him to even wave for a sip of water — only then he yields; sulking in self-deprecation, berating himself on why he’d roughened it out in the pouring rain with his brothers in arms in the first place.
The only consolation he has as he writhes in his sweat-soaked bed, shaking off in vain the tremors that plague his body — is you.
You never left his side, constantly at his beck and call, big or small — for a sip of water down his parched lips, for a cold towel over his feverish head, for a warm body next to his shivering bones, for a soothing whisper to calm his delirious nerves.
You have spent sleepless nights next to him in his chamber, nursing him back to health. Until finally, this tempered morning, when his fever finally breaks, he stirs with a sleepy grunt, feeling the weight of your lithe body slither on top of his, his senses drifting awake to the soft, ebbing rainfall outside.
Usually, that would set him off, prompt him to spring from his bed and tackle the offender onto the floor. He would swipe the dagger hidden at the side drawer, and latch it onto their throat, stare deep into their eyes as rueful fear settles upon their face for even trying to usurp him.
Leto has been through enough training with his armed guards to lock himself in a constant fight mode, awakened his reflexes to protect himself from any potential threat that might befall the Duke of the venerable House Atreides.
Even in the weakened, drowsy state he is currently in, his body would rouse to attention, muscles taut and ready to fight back if he so commands.
But, it’s you — he recognises the sultry rhythm your body sways to, and the velvet glide of your skin against his. That comfortable weight that drags along his olive skin; not too heavy to suffocate him, yet enough gravitas to swaddle him snug like his nursemaid once did when he was just a babe.
You disarm him. You make him want to throw his hands up in sweet surrender. In fact, you can reach for the dagger and carve the sharp edges into the meat of his thighs, threaten to cut off his balls, henceforth severing the Atreides line forever — and he will let you.
The power you have over him, it is stronger than any mind games a Bene Gesserit witch can impose on him.
Only with you, Leto submits — as your thighs flank his forearms decisively, shackling him. As your naked crotch rubs against his chest, in parallel with his heart where it pulses mutedly under the radiating warmth of your cunt — a different kind of fever he doesn’t mind revisiting, over and over again.
He succumbs to your assertive hands sweeping up the length of his thighs, nimble fingers caressing the contours of his hipbones. He sighs in placid submission, as they slide between the mattress and his buttocks, and without so much as a struggle — none at all, lets you push his undergarment down his legs, blissful to the puffs of heated breath warming his cock, already twitching against the chilly air.
He keeps his eyes closed, pretending he is still asleep when he is already wide awake behind the shuttered lids. But, he is fooling no one — his hardon has already given him away, straining to attention of its own volition, waking up and keening to your slow, caring strokes as you rub him to a full, stiff mast.
Leto feels your lips rain kisses upon his slit, soft and soothing like the pitter-patters that rouse the pleasant smell of petrichor right outside the window — before your mouth closes over the tip, your quiet hums crooning deliciously around his girth, like you have just sampled the best foods the Caladanian chefs have to offer for the Duke’s favourite concubine — favourite lover.
His eyes peel open, heavy-lidded as they rake down the salacious dip along your spine — oh, what a lovely sight to wake up to.
He would gladly give in to whatever ailments that weaken his every sense, rid of his dominion of the Atreides armada, and render himself but a mere soldier on the brink of death — if this is what awaits him on the other side.
He basks at the sight of your plump arsecheeks moving in front of his face, brushing teasingly against the tip of his nose, riling him up to cup a feel, to touch you.
Go on, my dear Duke, you know you want to — you want him to.
So, he obeys — large hands gliding up your thighs to the globes of your cheeks, kneading lightly, firmly. You arch into his welcoming touch, pressing your crotch flush against his sternum, as you moan around him — a ricocheting effect that pulls a strangled gasp from his lungs, granting you full permission to pick up speed, to shove a few more inches of his cock into your mouth.
His eyes roll back, chin tipped skyward and nostrils flaring to grasp at the alluring scent of your sex. He can smell you now, beckoning him with a mouthwatering aroma that reminds him of seasalt but which he knows tastes like warm, sweet honey — greater than the coveted spice melange that rules kingdoms and peoples.
The mere thought of your slick hitting his tongue, it’s enough to elicit a ravenous groan from his chest, his fingers digging into your plush skin — clawing for more.
Leto hears you — gagging sloppily, so beautifully around his cock, as his fat, aching tip thrusts deeper into the heated cavern of your mouth. Your tongue is like soft satin, cushioning the base of his veined shaft. Your jaw like desperate shackles, squeezing him so lovingly when it hits the back of your throat — drawing from you a melodious choral that shoots sparks down to his belly, wringing fresh spurts of pre-cum down your throat.
Your one hand pumps affirmative strokes along the rigid length in gratitude — thankful for what he has gifted you. The other, expert fingers fondle the robust orbs, as you suckle him like the most devout, so very eager to please your Duke — your master.
Your tongue swirls in hefty stripes, stretching along his weeping cock. Your cunt grinds against his broad chest, heaving to the rhythm of his heartbeat — stealing for yourself whatever friction you need to dance to his song.
You whimper, when his hand drifts between the buried alcove of your thighs. And right there at the apex, his thumb traces reverence along your sensitive nub — softly, so terribly soft.
He feels you gush around his fingers, and with your silky smooth release, he smears coaxing circles around your clit, kindling a guttural purr against his stomach, where he feels your heart thrums with wanting ache — practically begging for the affirmation only he can provide to satiate you, make you feel seen.
Leto likes it when you beg. You rarely do that in court. You never ask for more than what you think you deserve, so stoically demure as your footsteps thread down the vaulted halls. Even when they carry you past the heavy doors into his chamber, where you look after him so diligently — in bed, in sickness and in health.
But, when you do beg, he can’t help but offer you in kind what he thinks you deserve for your loyal and honourable service — everything. He would’ve given you the world if he could. He would’ve married you tomorrow, made you his Duchess if the Mentat calculations proclaim you compatible. He would’ve loved you with his whole heart until the day he dies even if they don’t.
Alas. This is all he can give you — his fingers digging into your skin, prying open your arsecheeks for the glorious sight of your cunt, blossoming pink like the first springtime bloom in the courtyards of Castle Caladan; throbbing right in front of his eyes — calling out to him to touch you there.
So, he obliges — touches you where it hurts, eases two fingers into your puckered hole until the web of his palm kisses your lips, scissoring to spread you out like a sumptuous feast waiting to be devoured.
Your slick trickles down his wrist, your hearty moan resonates around his cock, squeezing a stringy groan from deep within him, as his eyes flutter shut to savour everything that you have to give him.
The wet, hot sludge of your pussy, dying embers rekindled around his drenched digits. And when they crook at that devastating spot inside you, massaging billowing circles with just a smidge of pressure, he feels your thighs tense up as you squirt so desperately to his come hither.
And the sound you make — mewling with your mouth so full of him, it’s ethereal music his Warmaster can never pluck from the strings of his baliset, talented as he is with the instrument.
It makes Leto want you more, frenzied fingers biting into the meat of your calves to pull you closer, until your knees are digging into his shoulders. His growing beard rutting abrasion against your inner thighs, his growling mouth finally coming in contact with your clit — he goes in for the kill.
You release his cock, crying out in sweet surprise, when his tongue nudges into you, lapping at your bundle of nerves without any ducal decorum. His large hand presses upon the small of your back, to hold you in place, pull your arched form into his labouring mouth.
He plants his feet flat on the bed, angling his cock right back into your gaping mouth, silencing your outcries to smothered whimpers. His undulating hips drive himself deeper into you, filling you to the brim as the leaking head rams against the roof of your mouth, making you gag and drool down your quivering chin in a muffling mess.
Leto hums hoarsely against your cunt when your teeth drag along the veinous ridge for purchase, for any sense of control, when you’re already squirming, already unravelling to his desired device.
He knows you are close. He feels your pussy flutter at his ministrations.
He buries his nose against you, heaving in lungfuls of your tangy scent. His tongue teasing you in a quickened momentum, slurps hungrily like a man deprived of food for days.
Your hips gyrating against his chest, matching the temptuous tempo of his fingers, prodding in and out of you —
Until you clench around him. Your whole body shivering and your nails scraping at his inner thighs as you cum. His tongue flicking at your overstimulated nub still as he carries you through the storm.
You let out a long, stifled drawl around his cock, and he harmonises with you a delectable shudder that hitches in his throat, as he drinks in every drop of your honeyed offering, like sweet medicine to cure him of this insatiable disease.
Then, he pulls away just to see your pussy dribble onto his chest, painting him a lovely sheen — making him yours.
Leto’s eyes flitter shut, as he slips his anointed fingers into his mouth, revelling in the syrupy taste of you. Your heady scent assaulting his senses, making him dizzy — damn near feral.
It is enough to galvanise him, rocking into your wailing mouth with such dire urgency, as if he’s thrusting his cock into that pretty cunt he’s just fucked till kingdom come with only his mouth and fingers.
In one little moment, it feels like the fever has returned. Hellfire burns through his screaming muscles, as cold sweat licks at his pores. The pressure low in his belly coils tight —
And then he is snarling under your captive body. Balls drawing up in your loving hold, and spilling white, hot ropes down your throat, working with such deep devotion as it bobs frantically to take in every drop he has to offer.
He hisses, fingers biting crescents into your arsecheeks, when you hollow your cheeks and suckle at his reddened tip. An encore to make sure you’ve wrung him dry without a straddling drop left.
Until you have had your claim of him — all of him.
Only then, the storm clouds pass, and the rain subsides to mere whispers. His skin cools, and the thunder in his ears dwindles — and all he can hear is the steadfast sound of your heavy breathing.
Leto feels your heartbeat normalising against his abdomen, your fingertips mapping haphazard trails along his bare legs. Pathways covert even to himself, but nonetheless surefooted in finding your way to his heart.
He turns his face against your inner thigh, impressing pliant kisses to your skin, as his hand mirrors your motion. Trying so desperately to pillage his way through the shrouded labyrinth, and finally come home to where your heart lays.
His hooded eyes keep watch of you, as you drop your head and hum against his softening cock — a song that is already fading, even before he can learn the notes, memorise the words.
In knowing that, tears brim in his eyes before he can stop himself. His hand slides up your body, rubbing soothing circles up your spine; dislodges himself from under you to align his naked form against yours — from the tips of your toes, to the curves of your waists, to the rounds of your shoulders, where he brushes his lips and tries to lay his claim of you — all of you; when in truth, he has barely enough of you to hold on to from the start.
I was re-reading again my second fanfic with Adam and at first my oc is kinda too much in awe of Adam that she doesn't realise how Adam is objectifying her. Don't worry she will kick his ass later cause she isn't going to let that slide but it will be in later chapters.
Title: Everything Has a Price
Synopsis: College!AU - After Lucy Gray and Sejanus put an end to their throuple with Coriolanus Snow, they decide the best way to teach him a lesson is by fake dating each other.
Rating: T (for now)
LINK
...
sneak:
“Hey, hey, it’s me, Lucy Gray. You know I have a mind of my own. I don’t just do whatever Coryo tells me too.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“So, Coriolanus didn’t tell you to argue on his behalf?”
Sejanus paused a beat.
“That’s what I thought.” She set the strap of her purse on the bedpost nearest her. “Please, go, Sejanus. I don’t have the strength to deal with two of you today.”
“Just…give me a minute, Lucy Gray. If you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll be on my way.”
I don't make the rules. if you write a fic about Soul Survivor, this is the image you use.
That being said:
New installment to the crossroads gap-filler series. and boy-howdy do gaps get filled in this one.
did we need to fill gaps in this episode? i mean. there's some time where angel cas and demon dean are in a room and we didn't see it and like, that's enough for me.
blood roses (5005 words) by mab_morrigan
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Crowley (Supernatural), Hannah (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Demon Dean Winchester - Character
Additional Tags: Demon Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, Demon Cure used on Dean Winchester, Angelic Grace as Lube (Supernatural), Castiel's Handprint (Supernatural), Castiel's True Form (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Can See Castiel's Wings, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Explicit Consent, Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor (Supernatural)
Series: Part 3 of crossroads
Summary:
Castiel's grace is diminished and he is gravely injured when Crowley shows up just in time to save the day. Well, this specific part of the day. Castiel still has to make it to the Bunker to help Sam as he attempts to save Dean from the Mark of Cain.
Neither Castiel nor Sam are in top fighting condition, but Castiel thinks he might just be able to get the upper hand.
There's a female in the car.
Or:
Demon Dean and Castiel in the dungeon, making cake.
