Put a color in my ask box, and I'll answer the corresponding question. Please ask me only one at a time. đ
If you'd like me to ask you a question in return from this list, add a âď¸.
đ Green: Do you ever feel inspired by and/or jealous of other people's writing?
âĽď¸ Red: Do you ever feel anxious or scared while writing? If so, why?
đ Blue: What inspires you to finish writing a fanfic, and what makes you quit writing one at any stage in the process?
đ Purple: Name one song you're listening to while writing your next/current fanfic. How or why does it help the writing process?
đ§Ą Orange: When in the day do you typically write?
𩷠Pink: Do you find a certain character (or characters) easy to write? More difficult -- and if so, do you avoid writing that character (or those characters) when possible?
đ¤ Black: Do you think about your story when you're not physically writing it? Does it help with plotting scenes, character arcs, etc.?
đ Yellow: Do you ever alter, highlight, or de-emphasize certain canonical traits in a character? If so, why and describe how.
đ¤ White: What's a fanfic scenario or idea you'd like someone else to write so that you can read it?
đ¤ Brown: How did you decide to write (or why are you writing) a certain fanfic? (Asker, feel free to choose a specific story you're curious about. You can also let the answerer choose the story.)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
older lotr illustrations sometimes depict ĂŠowyn wearing ridiculously small armour. apart from the problem general sexualisation of the only female character (who really does anything), thereâs another hilarious thought:
ĂŠowyn pretended to be dernhelm, a man. to fit in, she must have worn menâs armor. so the armor in the illustrations is normal for rohirrim.
therefore, all the rohirrim rode to war just like that:
thereâs a thundering sound in the distance as the rohirrim ride into war but rather than hoofbeats itâs the collective sound of all their cheeks clapping
Frank Frazetta was the reason He-Man was designed like that; the producers conduct a study to see what art appeal the most to children, and Frankâs work came out on top in popularity. So everyone in He-Man is dressed the way they are directly because of Frazetta.
Ah, it has been too long since I have seen the no pants post on my dash. And yes, this is a rare case where it wasnât some sexist nonsense but an egalitarian No Pants Agenda.
I canât remember now if it was Frank Frazetta and his Mrs. who used their own bodies for character models or if that was Boris and Mrs. Vallejo. Both pairs were ripped, though.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.
I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)
I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.
I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.
I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.
I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.
I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.
I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.
I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.
one of my twitter friends recently said that if she could order up a fic it would be a story written by someone who has only ever read the classics, 1.5 star trek novelizations, and their mother's romance novels from 1970, written about two people are so out of their minds horny for each other it causes them to make the absolute worst choices anyone's ever made.
and i almost lost my mind laughing because i do know exactly what she means. there is a weird vibe i can sometimes sense within the first few paragraphs a fic that really bums me out. it's almost like i can tell the author is thinking way too much about what i'm thinking about their id and it's suddenly like we're all suddenly wondering how riding a bicycle works when we're mid-ride. when you start worrying too much audience interpretation or how a fic is going to do or play or ugh marketability, it genuinely adds some weird self-conscious distance to whatever you're doing. and it's the pits from the reader side because it removes so much horniness from your story even if the idea you have is genuinely good! i know this is not a niche complaint--you find it literally everywhere as every sector of the creative internet gets #content-ed and people can't escape the stats of how any given creative outlet does.
but god there's literally nothing better than sitting down and reading some freaknasty person's art where they do not give a single shit if you like it. they had something to say and my god they were gonna say it. i've accidentally acquired so many kinks by clicking on a story where someone took me on the most insane ride of my life and i thrilled about it. i don't wanna read about polite normal regular love. i don't wanna read about people using therapy-speak on each other. i wanna read about two people feeling the biggest craziest feelings of their entire life and they cannot do anything about it except bang it out. what else are we doing here? if they're not fucking down an entire house, well jed i don't even wanna read it.
#strongly considering a second completely detached from the main acct ao3 acct#bc i know several of you offline and if i reveal too much about my personal kinks#i will straight up die
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Iâve been thinking⌠since I have over 100 followers that Iâm pretty sure arenât porn blogs and I have a lot of RPers that follow me, maybe I should offer to promote some blogs? there are some decent stories out there that people are doing that Iâm not involved in. So if you want a promo, or have someone you want me to point out, my inbox is open. Same for fanart blogs. I spend enough time yelling about the porn bots, I want to give some attention to the community instead.Â
Ambrollins, angry/rough sex, established relationship. Crossposted to Ao3 and elsewhere.
He couldnât even remember what they were fighting about, not really. Something stupid had set him off, he was sleep deprived and stressed out, and Seth was definitely feeling the strain of distance in their relationship as well. So all day things had just been⌠bad. Not bad, not really, but both men were on edge and snappish.
Things came to a head shortly after dinner. Something about dishes or leftovers or⌠something. Someone not doing something the ârightâ way, someone throwing around âYou always â â swiftly followed by âYou never â â and the next thing Dean knew, he was strangling a dish towel and vaguely imagining it was Sethâs throat he was wringing.
He knew he wasnât really mad at Seth about it, that it was just the buildup of the last few months leaking out. He also knew he should probably just man up and apologize, take one for the team, try and smooth over the situation. But he was stubborn as fuck sometimes, and he really wanted Seth to be the one to apologize this time.
âWhy donât you come over here and do something about it, then?â Sethâs voice was taunting from across the room, and all over again Dean wanted to punch that smug look off his face.
âMaybe I fucking will, Seth. What then? You gonna bust my arm all over again?â
A look flashed across Sethâs face, and Dean knew that they probably both felt the exact same way. He crossed the room in one long step, crowding Seth back into the wall, carefully not touching him but getting as close as he could. He knew his eyes were narrowed in anger, could feel the heat on his cheeks.
Seth opened his mouth to say something, head ducking, backing down just a little. Dean suspected he was going to de-escalate because Dean had brought up his arm, but he needed to bleed off the adrenaline of his anger and he had very few outlets to do that with only one arm. âDonât. Donât say a fucking thing, Seth.â He swiftly closed the space between them by pulling Sethâs face to his and kissing him, hard.
There was nothing soft or gentle about this. This was a continuation of the battle between them, Dean demanding in the kiss, aggressive, tongue pushing its way into Sethâs mouth. Seth responded after the briefest of hesitations, getting with the program and returning the favor, tongue sweeping into Deanâs mouth the second there was an opportunity.
Dean was startled as he felt Sethâs hands drop to his waist, then spin him and shove him all the way back into the wall with enough force to rattle the picture hung there. His lips broke away, huffing out a soft laugh, a challenge in his eyes. Heâd been careful in positioning himself so that Seth could get away if he was actually angry enough that he didnât want to play this game, but Seth had used that hint of separation to his own advantage. âThat all you got, Rollins?â His voice was pure bratty Ambrose underlaid with the heat of desire ripping through him.
âFuck you, Ambrose.â Sethâs voice was a mockery of Deanâs tone, leaving Dean with his lips twisted in something half-smirk and half-sneer.
âNah, the plan is to fuck you.â Dean pushed forward off the wall at the same time his hand slid into the back of Sethâs sweatpants, boldly palming Sethâs ass and making him take half a step back. He took advantage of the distraction, his good hand grabbing Seth by the forearm tightly and dragging him in the direction of the bedroom, not a word being spoken.
The second they crossed the threshold, he was back on Seth; this time he was the one pivoting the other man into the wall with a loud bang. He would have worried about being too rough had Seth not immediately surged forward to pull Deanâs face to him, kissing him urgently. He barely bit back a groan at how needy Seth was, even as he refused to give an inch. Had he both functioning arms, he would be picking Seth up right about now and literally throwing him on the bed, but in the meantime, he resorted to breaking the embrace for the barest of seconds to sweep the dresser clear of hairbrushes and product and whatever else was on there. He dimly registered the crash of a glass hitting the floor in the chaos, but he couldnât even pretend to care in the moment. All that mattered was getting Seth perched up on the edge of the dresser, where Dean could leverage the situation to his advantage again.
He tugged Sethâs arm, and Seth allowed himself to be manipulated onto the dresser and leaned back into the mirror. Dean pushed his way between Sethâs thighs, his good hand finding its way onto Sethâs throat, not restricting airflow, just pushing his head back to show off the long line of his throat. They made eye contact, that alone sending new waves of heat through Dean. He leaned into his boyfriendâs space, immediately latching onto his throat and sucking hard. Seth made a strangled sound deep in his throat, the hand not supporting his weight grasping at Deanâs side, fingers knotting in Deanâs shirt.
Dean laid in a vicious bite to Sethâs trapezius muscle, finally making Seth cry out. The mark Dean had left on Sethâs throat was a horrifying shade of purple already, and this bite almost broke the skin. He was pretty sure he had some bruising on his own back from being slammed into the wall, and he suspected Seth would have the same. They would both look like theyâd been in a fight tomorrow. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror â his eyes were fever-bright, a feral grin on his face. He looked crazy and felt barely in control, but the look he was getting from Seth was pure hunger and lust.
Good.
Dean cocked his head to the side and took in Seth for a brief moment. He leaned back in and tore Sethâs shirt right off him. It was just an old plain t-shirt, so Dean thought he could get away with it. He was right â all he got was a sharp inhale from Seth, no complaints. His eyes flicked back to Sethâs face, getting lost in the dark pools of Sethâs eyes. Sethâs pupils were completely blown; his breathing fast. He was clearly enjoying this side of Dean, the one that was rough and demanding.
Double good.
âWas in the way,â Dean muttered, voice gravelly as he leaned in to latch onto one of Sethâs nipples, teeth scraping across the tip before he sucked hard. He had a mouth like a Hoover when he wanted to, and he did tonight. Seth yelped, fingers grasping at Deanâs hair, pulling it a little. Dean pulled off with an obscene slurping sound, smirking up at Seth. âThat all ya got? Pull harder if you want more, babe.â
In response, Seth wound a lock around his fingers and yanked. âLike this? This get the message across?â There was a snarl on Sethâs face too. âDonât care about the shirt. I think it was yours.â He laughed hoarsely.
Dean groaned even as he smiled up at Seth. âNow youâre getting it.â His voice had gone breathless, and he could see a calculating look on Sethâs face. Sure enough, Seth pulled even harder, and the sound Dean made was definitely not pain, but a combination of moan and want and something resembling a cat in heat. He wasnât proud of it, but the look that crossed Sethâs face and the smirk on his lips made Dean ignore it in favor of pulling free and biting at Sethâs chest. He heard Sethâs sharp inhale as his fingers tried to get back into Deanâs hair, but Deanâs hand slid down Sethâs abs to tug at the drawstring of Sethâs pants, distracting Seth long enough for Dean to shift his weight and pull Seth back off the dresser.
âOn your knees.â It was clearly an order, one Dean wasnât sure Seth would obey, but a heartbeat later Seth sank to his knees on the floor. Dark eyes flicked up to meet blue, a challenge in them, but Dean knew heâd already won this one. Sethâs sweat pants werenât able to hide a damn thing, and they both knew it was in both of their best interests for Seth to play along, the sooner the better judging by the tenting in Sethâs pants.
Deanâs hands fumbled at the button of his jeans, a little shaky from the adrenaline singing through him. Seth batted his hands away and popped the button, yanking the jeans down none too gently. Dean settled back on his heels, standing almost at parade rest before reaching out and fisting the bun in Sethâs hair, pulling Sethâs face into his boxer-covered crotch. Seth braced his hands against Deanâs thighs before breathing in deeply, the barest hint of a shiver visible across his shoulders.
âUh-uh, hands behind your back. You know what to do.â Deanâs voice was thick with want, barely above a whisper, but still sounding totally in control. Seth flicked his eyes up to Deanâs face for an instant before crossing his wrists behind his back and nuzzling in, trailing his nose against the barely covered bulge in front of him. Dean fought to keep from hissing in a breath, keeping his hand steady in Sethâs hair as the younger man teased him to full hardness, lips tracing out the line of Deanâs cock and mouthing over his balls.
Seth looked up through lowered lashes as he bit the waistband of Deanâs boxers and dragged them down with his teeth just low enough to free his cock. Dean couldnât suppress the shiver down his spine at that, not even caring that Seth also caught it and smiled smugly before running a teasing tongue up Deanâs length. âDonât get cocky,â Dean said, as he finished pulling down his boxers with his bad hand. He took hold of his cock and tapped it gently against Sethâs lips until the younger man opened his mouth to take in as much as he could in one smooth move. âThatâs it. Take all of it.â Dean held Sethâs head in place, not letting him pull back until Dean felt him start to choke a little. He let Seth ease off for a second to breathe, then tightened his fingers in Sethâs hair again and urged him into a fast pace. Not really sucking, but tongue lashing across the underside of his cock as the warm, wet heat surrounded it, fingers pressing the back of Sethâs head to keep him on pace until he started gagging.
He gave him another rest to breathe, watching saliva drip from Sethâs lips as his chest heaved, trying to get air in. As soon as Sethâs breathing eased, Dean pushed Sethâs head back down, moving him at an even faster pace. It was a rare thing that Dean would use Seth this way; generally he preferred things slower, to savor the moment, and this much this fast would lead to a sooner end than he wanted if he kept it up. He pulled Seth by the hair until Seth fully swallowed his cock, pinning him in place, nose pressed against Deanâs belly. He felt Sethâs throat spasm around him, finally relenting and letting him pull off. He had a moment of wondering if it was too much before he felt Seth shift restlessly under his hand and he looked further down and saw the beginning of a wet spot on Sethâs sweatpants. âLike that, donât you.â It wasnât a question, but even now Dean couldnât shut off his filthy mouth. âLike it when I use you. Got you hard and leaking for me already.â
When Seth didnât respond to him, he tightened his hand and gave his head a sharp tug, pulling him back down. This time he set a slower pace, letting Seth do some real work with his tongue, getting some real suction going. He couldnât bite back the moan this time. He knew this was going to have to stop, soon, so he clenched his fist again and dragged Sethâs head back and forth along his cock at a rapid pace before pulling him all the way off. He was forceful enough it unbalanced Seth, who had to put a hand down.
They looked at each other for a beat, eyes like smoldering coal and glacial ice meeting, all that emotion simmering barely beneath the surface. âGet up. Pants off.â Deanâs voice was so hoarse that it sounded like he was the one who had been deep-throating his boyfriend, not the other way around.
He was gratified to see that Seth didnât hesitate. Whatever they were feeling, horny was winning out in a big way. His own anger toward Seth had simmered way down, but he was still furious at his circumstances. It was probably a bad thing that heâd let it get to this point, but he would probably be ready to talk about his feelings in the next day or so, assuming Seth was as forgiving as he hoped.
Seth turned around without needing to be told. Dean stepped up behind him, hands coming up to caress his chest before raking nails down it, drawing a hiss from Seth. ââM not going easy on you, pretty boy,â Dean whispered into Sethâs ear.
âDonât expect you to. Donât want you to either.â Sethâs voice was rough but far more composed than Dean wanted. It was only a quick step to the bedside table to grab the lube before he was back in place behind his boyfriend, forcefully bending him over. He ran hands all over Sethâs ass, roughly spreading the cheeks, fingers digging in as he massaged it. He would always take time to appreciate it when he had this view. âYou just gonna look or are you gonna do something with my ass?â Sethâs voice was taunting.
âIâm gonna do something, all right.â Dean punctuated his words with a harsh slap, his own hand stinging and a glowing red mark springing up on the olive skin. Seth barely stifled a gasp, making Dean smirk. He only had one hand to work with, so he couldnât really go to town, but he did manage to lay in a few nice hand prints with some successive swats. Each strike pulling a breathy moan out of Seth, heat rushing to the surface of Sethâs skin as it reddened under Deanâs ministrations.
From the corner of his eye, Dean saw Seth blindly reaching out for the edge of the bed to brace himself. âNah. Grab your ankles instead.â
âReally? Why?â Dean could hear the eyeroll in Sethâs voice.
âI want you totally at my mercy.â Something in his tone made Seth go quiet and comply, spreading his legs a little wider and assuming the position as ordered. It was a hell of a sight, one that always made Dean pause. The trust, the vulnerability to be in a position like this, was breathtaking. Not to mention it was hot as hell. He ran a teasing finger over the curve of Sethâs ass before the quiet snick of the lid of the bottle of lube broke the silence. He saw Seth take a deep breath at the sound, something that brought a smile to his own face, even as the anticipation ramped up.
Even with the way need was burning through him, he didnât rush the next step, taking Seth in one slow glide until he was deep inside, fingers tight on Sethâs hips. He paused for a second, flexing as he made sure he was balls-deep, then withdrew almost all the way before slamming back in with enough force he could hear Seth exhale all his breath.
He set up a brutal pace, the next thrusts fast but shallow, waiting for Seth to relax all the way. He couldnât see his face, but the stifled curses he was hearing gave him an almost smug feeling. Once the curses subsided into broken moans, he reached up and raked nails down Sethâs back, making him arch upward. Dean grabbed his shoulder, using it as leverage to slam in and out even harder.
The sounds of skin slapping and moaning filled the room. Dean could see beads of sweat breaking out across Sethâs back, could feel sweat beading across his own brow as he fucked Seth hard and deep, his good hand tight on Sethâs shoulder. He was gritting his teeth, his thighs burning with the effort he was putting into the powerful thrusts he was using.
âThis what you wanted? Fucking you so hard you wonât be able to sit comfortably for days.â He pulled Seth back into a bowed position, letting Seth grip Deanâs good arm with one of his behind his back, his other hand threaded into Sethâs hair, extending the line of his throat. âTell me how much you love it. How much you love my cock in your ass.â
âI⌠fuck. I love it. Feeling you so deep. Shit, Dean.â Dean felt Sethâs other hand bracing against his thigh, nails digging in. âFeels good. S-so good.â
âNo one will ever fuck you as good as I do. Never has, never will.â A cocky tone crept into Deanâs voice after hearing how breathless and lost in pleasure Seth sounded.
âNo one else ever has. And no one else but you ever will fuck me.â Seth was starting to sound desperate, pulling back against the hand in Deanâs hair, trying to get to a better angle for himself.
âDamn straight. This ass is mine. Forever and always.â He let go of Sethâs hair, letting his boyfriend get to a deeper curve in his back. This time he didnât stop Seth from bracing against the edge of the bed, instead using it to his advantage to press down on Sethâs lower back, feeling it the moment he started hitting Sethâs prostate as Seth jerked hard.
âOh, oh, fuck, there, donât stop, baby.â Seth was mostly muttering to himself, but the words went straight to Deanâs ego. And his inner bastard.
He wasnât in any mood to let this end soon, so when he saw Seth reaching for his dick, he pulled Sethâs hands behind his back, not letting him touch himself. âYour dick belongs to me too. No touching.â
A low whine exited Seth, followed by a string of curse words. Seth started working his hips backward, trying for more stimulation. âFuck⌠fuck you, Dean.â
âTold you, Iâm fucking you tonight.â Dean uttered a low laugh before Seth wrenched an arm free.
âTwo can play at being bossy, asshole.â Seth reached back to pinch Deanâs thigh, hard enough it startled Dean into dropping his other arm. He shifted but didnât completely pull away. âIâm done playing your game tonight, so if you want to get off, itâs my turn.â
Dean cocked his head for an instant as he thought. His own rage had long subsided into something more manageable, so he was willing to compromise. âWhat are your terms?â
âI want you flat on your back on the bed. Iâm gonna take what I need from you now that youâve had your fun.â
Dean slowly slid out and before Seth could stalk away, he turned him and captured his lips in a blistering kiss. He could even taste how angry Seth still was, and it sent a shiver through him.
It was Sethâs turn to have a low, dangerous voice, and damn if it wasnât sexy as hell. âThought I said on the bed, Dean.â
A half-smile ghosted across Deanâs lips as he answered, his tone faintly mocking. âYes, sir.â
He gently climbed onto the bed as directed, somewhat surprised when Seth followed but knelt astride Deanâs chest. âSuck my dick, Dean.â
Deanâs smile fully bloomed at that. He didnât often say it out loud, but he absolutely loved giving Seth head. He would do it all day if he could. The moans Seth made were his favorite sound in the world, something he could never get enough of.
He tried not to appear too eager as he tilted his head forward to take the tip into his mouth, savoring the taste, the texture, even the musky smell. He barely held back a moan as Seth shifted forward to slide himself more fully into Deanâs mouth. He relaxed his throat to let Seth dictate the pace, letting Seth fuck his throat slowly.
His eyes drifted closed, and he gave up on holding back the moans once Seth fisted both hands into Deanâs hair. Seth wasnât the only one who got something out of being used, and Dean was enjoying the whole process of Seth thrusting slow and deep into his mouth. He worked his throat, swallowing around Sethâs cock, loving the sounds he was able to wring out of him. Panting breaths, moans, cursing under his breath. And all Dean had to do was swallow, work his tongue a little, and try to breathe on occasion. Sethâs knees bracketed his shoulders, so he couldnât even try to use his hands if he wanted to.
And that was something else too. Restrained without restraints. When Seth let go of his hair with one hand, he let out a whine of displeasure. Seth picked up on it, of course. âYou like that? Me controlling you like this?â Dean couldnât help the way his dick twitched traitorously, showing Seth exactly how much Dean was liking it. âFuck, thatâs hot. Shit. I canât keep this up, and I want to cum with your dick in me.â
Dean coughed as Seth rolled off him, trying to adjust to the air flowing freely again, his eyes watering and the taste of copper in his mouth. He supposed heâd split his lip at some point but hadnât even noticed it. He licked the faint trace of blood off his lip as he watched Seth straddle his thighs, making eye contact as he slowly sank down onto Deanâs cock again.
The tight heat surrounding him made him throw his head back against the pillows. âShit. So tight.â His voice was completely wrecked, so hoarse it was just barely audible. He bit at his own lip to stifle a groan, pulling fresh blood to the surface.
His hands found their way to Sethâs hips, encouraging him to move harder, and Seth slapped them away. âItâs my show now. Hands off.â Having eased his way with a few shallow strokes, Seth started riding Dean in earnest. He was angled forward, hands pressed to Deanâs chest, hips rolling for maximum depth and grinding down every time their flesh met. The friction was delicious, but not nearly enough for Dean, but he supposed that was the point. Had he the ability, he would be planning exactly how he was going to roll them and take control back, but he really was at Sethâs mercy now.
He gave Seth a slow smile, before crossing his arms behind his head. âOkay. Go ahead, use me.â Inside it was killing him to not be able to touch, tease, help build Sethâs pleasure, but on the other hand, if Seth wanted to be left to it Dean was going to give him exactly what he asked for.
âFuck. If I didnât like this so much youâd be left high and dry for that,â Seth snapped as he crashed down even harder on Deanâs cock, hard enough that it stole the breath from Deanâs lungs. âAlways have to know better. Gotta play the smug asshole. Canât be fucking open and honest and ââ
âHey.â Dean reached out and tugged Seth down into a kiss. He was gratified to hear Seth make a small noise of pleasure at the change in angle, or perhaps just enjoying Dean shutting him up by attempting to get his tongue as far as possible down Sethâs throat. He threaded fingers into Sethâs hair, thoroughly mussing the remnants of the bun it had been in, as Seth rebalanced himself to brace on his forearms. Sethâs hips stuttered to a slow grind, the sweat between them acting as a lubricant to allow his dick to slide in the tiny space between their bellies.
As their lips finally parted for air, Dean whispered, âIâm sorry.â He peppered Sethâs lips and jaw with kisses, murmuring apologies in between them. He slid a hand in between them, searching out a hardened nub, squeezing and rolling it as best he could between his fingers, feeling Seth arch into his touch.
âStop.â It was the faintest of whispers, but Dean immediately stilled, eyes searching Sethâs face. âI donât want you sweet. Iâm still mad at you and then you go and get nice and ââ
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Seth back down for another kiss, this time anything but gentle. Teeth clicking with force, biting on Sethâs lip with enough force to open a small cut. He sucked at it, smearing more of the crimson across their lips, tasting the tang of blood. He heard Sethâs sharp inhale, followed by Seth rising back to his knees.
He was absolutely gorgeous, kneeling astride Deanâs hips, eyes closed and head thrown back as he started riding Dean hard. He was rising up as high as he could, maximizing the length of the stroke and bottoming out hard. The slap of skin on skin echoed through the room. The circular grind of Sethâs hips before rising back up made Deanâs eyes roll back in his head and curses fall from his lips. He watched Seth run fingers across his own chest, pinching at a nipple, so Dean reached down and started to slowly stroke Sethâs cock, trying to find a rhythm that would work with the frantic pace Seth was riding him.
He quickly gave up on it, instead spitting in his palm in place of lube, loosely closing his fist around Seth and letting his natural movement take over. âThatâs it, babe. Fuck my hand. I want you to cum all over me.â There was only so long he could last with this kind of movement, and he would be damned if he was the first one over the edge.
His words only spurred Seth to move faster, moaning out on every glide of his hips. âShit. Gonna give you what you want. Cum all over you."
âYeah? Good. I want you to. Wanna see you lose all control, you fall apart so beautifully for me every time.â He thrust up as much as he could, meeting Sethâs downward stroke with force, hearing Seth whimper every time. âFuck. Iâm gonna meet you there, okay? Cum for me, babe.â
Seth was seemingly beyond words, giving a jerky nod as Dean flexed the fingers of his bad hand tight on Sethâs hip, urging him back down once, twice, three times, then things went white for a second and he moaned out as he shot his release deep into Seth.
âFuck, baby. Feels good.â Dean opened his eyes when he heard Seth whisper, seeing Sethâs eyes closed, head thrown back, still riding him as Deanâs cock continued to dribble out spurts of cum.
âYou feel good. So good, so tight around me. Fucking gorgeous, best thing Iâve ever done was get with you. Come on, show me how good I make you feel. Come on, Seth, cum for me. Cover my chest and belly with your load. Paint me up real good.â Dean tightened up his hold on Sethâs cock as he kept talking dirty to his lover.
âFuck, fuck, yes, babyâŚâ Suddenly Seth gasped and tensed up as his climax crested, reaching down with his own hand to help Dean milk out his release. And it was a hell of a sight. Spurts shot out, covering Dean all the way up to his chin with milky fluid, stream after stream of it. Seth slowly sank back down one last time, balancing his weight on Deanâs hips, legs a little shaky.
âIâd make a joke about you being pent up but I know exactly when you got off last and it was a few hours ago,â Dean said with a smirk. âHell of a fucking load. Glad I didnât volunteer to take that in the face, I woulda drowned.â
âDonât be fucking cute. Iâm still mad.â Sethâs tone wasnât angry any more though, more tired than anything. âYou arenât the only one who hates that you arenât on the road. But donât take it out on me, Dean.â
Dean swallowed. âI know. Iâm sorry. I⌠I shouldnât have snapped.â He winced as Seth none too gently climbed off him, coming up to sit leaned against the pillows beside him. âI really am sorry. I know Iâve been on edge for a couple weeks now, Iâm justâŚâ He sighed again, not wanting to really talk about it but knowing he had to say something.
âI know youâre sorry. Iâm sorry too. I knew I was pushing your buttons butâŚâ He trailed off, looking away.
Dean sighed as he leaned over the edge of the bed, fishing the remnants of the shirt Seth had been wearing off the floor and using it to clean the worst of the mess off himself before silently offering it to Seth.
Sethâs voice was distant as he pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. âItâs hard. I miss you, but I donât want to worry you so I try to play down how much itâs killing me to be away from you. Because I remember what itâs like to be the one at home. How alone you feel.â
Dean swallowed hard. âI donât even have any friends to spend time with, not since moving in here.â His voice was barely a whisper. âIâm not complaining, Iâm happy to be here, to be with you and to have your rehab team working with me, but I get so lonely sometimes, locked up in my own head and⌠I donât have any outlets. I canât do shit with this arm. And⌠itâs not going well. The rehab. Itâs not healing. Not just healing slow, the surgical repair⌠itâs not healing. There was a lot of atrophy and the repair⌠they might need to redo it.â
Seth turned to face him. âDean. How long have you known?â
âI got a call yesterday. I forgot to tell you, we were going out for dinner and I wanted to wait until we were home and I forgot. Then I didnât know how to tell you. I didnât want to ruin your days off, and â â
âYour health is more important than me having carefree days at home. You know that, right?â
âYeah, but â â
âNo but. Itâs more important. You let me lean on you all the time. I have big shoulders, you should try leaning on me some time.â
âI hate beingâŚâ
âVulnerable? I know. You donât hide that very well.â Seth leaned over to put his head on Deanâs shoulder.
Dean wrapped an arm around Sethâs shoulders. âIâm sorry. I shouldnât have snapped at you. Shouldnât have taken out all that stress and frustration and anger and whatever else I have rattling around in my head on you.â
âMaybe I knew what I was doing. Maybe I was trying to poke the bear a little. You were so on edge and I wanted you to get some of it out.â He still wouldnât let Dean turn his face to look at him.
âMaybe youâre a little shit. But I get it. I⌠just⌠Iâm not used to people taking care of me, you know?â
âMmm. It makes it hard. You pull away when you know Iâm trying to.â
âDo I? I⌠I didnât know.â
âYou do. You deflect. Make everything a joke. Or turn it into something else. You have to be really sick or exhausted or else you fight it. And I like taking care of you, just because I want to. Why else do I cook? Itâs one of the only ways you let me.â
âIâm sorry, babe. I really am.â
âI know you are. I also know you donât mean to be like that. Communication isnât something either of us is good at.â Seth finally turned to look at Dean. âBut itâs worth working on. Making ourselves uncomfortable. Youâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to me.â
âYouâre worth everything. I donât know what I would do if I had to be going through this alone.â
Seth leaned in, placing a soft kiss on the corner of Deanâs lips. âIâm glad you donât have to. Iâm happy that I can help you, repay some of what you did for me last year. You just have to let me help, okay?â
Dean nodded. âI will. Promise.â
âGood.â Seth resettled, head lower on Deanâs shoulder, tucking himself into Deanâs side. âI love you too.â
Dean pressed a kiss into Sethâs hair. âBabe?â Seth made a questioning sound in reply. âFor the record, if you want it rough, you donât have to piss me off like that. Just ask.â He could even hear the grin in his own voice.
âFuck you, Dean.â
âThought you just did. But if you want round two, it can be arrangedâŚâ He just laughed as Seth bounced a pillow off his head.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Why is it that instead of writing the story I have to for my fic exchange my brain keeps coming up with other stuff? I have an almost finished Mox/Jimmy Jacobs piece that i procrastinated with last week, and today the Ambrollins fireman/teacher coming out au story I've been noodling on has bloomed in my head. Why???
Spent tonight at the hospital, and was bored, and so I wrote this on my phone.
Dean Ambrose/Renee Young, rated 14+ for language, pretty fluffy, about 2250 words. No editing because phone. And pain. Sorry for any errors. Might clean it up before posting to Ao3. Mentions of (planned) pregnancy. No smut.
So maybe they hadnât gone about things the ânormalâ way. The ârightâ way. But fuck it, they did things their way. Getting married in the back yard, in the middle of the night, it just felt right. Hell, they were never really engaged either. Heâd brought it up a bunch of times, getting married; Renee had laughed at him, assuming it was a joke or some other nebulous maybe sometime plan. Sheâd been surprised when he actually suggested getting the marriage license in Reno, but finally understood that heâd been testing the waters for an actual proposal... only to cut him off at the knees. She didnât want a proposal. She wanted to just one day be caught in the whirlwind and go off and get married, no plan, no big deal.
God, he loved her.
And yeah, planning was not his strong suit either. He was not the most organized guy around. He lost everything, all the time. His style was minimalist by design â not because he didnât like things, but things were things that could get lost or destroyed or be too cumbersome to keep track of... so he didnât need things. On the other hand, he was excellent at keeping his mouth shut if he needed to. So he actually went out and bought a wedding set for her. Didnât tell a soul. Kept it in the bedside drawer, in the tangle of extra chargers, books he was really gonna finish one of these days, old passports, and birthday cards from Renee. She never went in that drawer, and even if she should look in, there was no way the little black box would be spotted in that mess.
Heâd planned a getaway for them, in the one week off they got a year, but then he got called back early. Renee was pissed. Understandably. It went double because they both knew without being told that he was being traded from Smackdown to Raw. They got home, and that night before bed, he pulled out the rings. Said that they tried to keep married couples together, so maybe if she started wearing this, they would move her to Raw too. Not the romantic proposal heâd thought he would make one day, but there you go. It was honest, and true, and while pragmatic it was still heartfelt. He didnât want them to be split up either, and for all his giftedness on the mic, when it came down to it often he lacked the words for what his brain and heart were shoving at him at warp speeds.
She was speechless. Finally she looked at him and said, âWhy are we waiting? Why donât we just do it tonight?â He looked at her, a million things going through his head: for all that sheâd talked about eloping he had thought she would want a real wedding; it was the middle of the night and she was in pyjamas; didnât she want her mom there? But all that came out was the truth: âI canât wait another minute to be married to you.â
So she pulled up Yelp, found someone to marry them. He called their friend who lived around the block, and within an hour they were married, and itâs amazing what can change in such a short time... because everything was different, better, more. Exhilarated and happy, even though he had to leave without her in a few short hours to go ahead to Raw.
And there was fallout from it. Kicked off Divas, on the shit list for not running it by the office. Whatever. They were the ones who wanted to put their relationship on TV, not Dean and Renee. They shouldnât get a say in things like this, but they thought they were entitled to it. He could not care less. He was over the moon happy, happier than he had ever though he could be, certainly more than he ever thought he deserved to be.
The one drawback was that they never got time for a honeymoon. He wasnât a beach guy. He was cheap by nature, even among the notoriously cheap clan of wrestlers, so the idea of paying to sleep somewhere just to lay out in sun and heat... they lived in Las Vegas. Hot and sun were plentiful, and they had a pool, so it never made sense to him. But she wanted to go away somewhere, so he got to planning. Surprised her with plane tickets and weaseled a weekend off from the office. Not like he hadnât worked more than anyone else for three years running, spent the previous summer working double shots to cover for Roman. They couldnât deny him one weekend off house shows once he put his foot down about it.
The timing was pretty good, once the day drew near. Heâd wrecked his elbow at TLC, needed some time to just rest it, and with the virus that had wiped out some of their big draws for the overseas tour he had no choice but to suck it up and work through it. So the weekend off was actually sort of for medical reasons too. At least, heâd claim that anyway. Â
TLC had brought about another change, of sorts. Heâd been banged up pretty badly, none of the tables had broken when heâd been thrown into them, and by the end of the match he was questioning his commitment to this line of work. Heâd started thinking a little more about life after wrestling. He was doing okay for himself, making decent money, he had a financial plan in place to get to a point where he could comfortably retire and not need to worry about money barring emergencies in the next decade. Â Assuming things stayed the way they were, that is. But.
People all around him were having babies. Roman had his twin boys, less than a year ago. Brie and Bryan had Birdie. Even Mike and Maryse were expecting. He knew Renee was good with kids, she was great with her little cousins, and seeing her with Make A Wish kids gave him all kinds of feelings. Ones he thought he would never have. He always thought he would be too much of a screw-up to be able to responsibly parent anyone, but he also always thought he would never be a homeowner, and he was managing that. He had a very spoiled dog, who was seeming to thrive. Hell, he even had cacti. He was almost like a full-grown adult now.
So he was starting to think about that. A baby girl with Reneeâs big doe eyes. A boy with his own dimples. Hell, he might even be open to adopting, if they wanted to, Lord knows his gene pool was questionable. Baby smiles are baby smiles, who cares what the baby looks like. Holding and cuddling a tiny person, who looks at you like you hung the moon, trusting that you will care for them... and knowing you will do anything in your power to make their lives better than your own was. Even the idea of changing diapers wasnât so gross and scary anymore.
It was Saturday night, the night before Survivor Series. He was antsy, on edge. He wanted to talk to Renee about this whole everyone-else-is-procreating situation, the feelings it was bringing up, but he didnât know how to approach it. They hadnât really ever talked about it before. Vaguely, in the distant future, maybe... but never anything concrete. He had no idea if she was ready, if she wanted to, anything. And the last thing he wanted was to come across as some entitled asshole, being all, I put a ring on it so now get with the babies. Not like he was the one who would have to change his entire life for nine months before it all changed again forever. And Renee was his whole world, his everything. If she wasnât wanting this, he didnât want her to feel at all like she couldnât say no.
He was up and down, from the chair to the bed to the desk back to the bed and back to the chair. He had his book, then was watching TV, then fiddling with Reneeâs iPad. Finally she stopped him. âWhat is wrong with you?â
âNothing.â He wouldnât make eye contact.
âWell, thatâs a load of crap. Something is bothering you.â
He sighed. âItâs not bothering me. Itâs nothing, really.â
âThen why canât you just put on We Bare Bears or something and settle down?â
âI-â He stopped. âItâs no big deal. Just thinking about something is all.â
âAbout your match? Why donât you call Seth and see what heâs thinking?â
âNo, not that. Definitely not something I wanna call Seth about, thatâs for sure.â He scuffed a toe along the carpet.
âThen what? You know you can talk to me about anything, babe.â
âI... I just been thinking. About stuff.â He was decidedly not making eye contact.
âWell thatâs certainly informative.â She got off the bed and straddled his lap on the chair, using one finger to tilt his chin up until he met her eyes. He kept trying to look away, but then his eyes would dart back to hers. Finally he sighed.
âDidnât know how to bring this up. And I donât want you to like, feel any pressure or anything. I just been thinking, I donât know... maybe... have you thought about having kids?â
She stared at him blankly for a good minute. âThatâs whatâs going on? You didnât know how to say âHey babe, howâs about I give knocking you up the old college try?ââ
A brief look of panic flitted across his face. âI didnât say I wanted to, not right now, but like, everyone I know seems to be having them, you know? And like, we havenât really talked about it, but maybe I might kind of be warming up to the idea, and I donât want you to think I expect you to have babies, especially not since weâve only been married, what six or seven months? Itâs not like I think you need to because I married you, especially since you did me the favor of marrying me, not the other way around, I ainât that dumb to think otherwise, Iâm the one who got lucky here -â
He was silenced by lips gently pressed to his, the kiss soft and sweet. âWe both got lucky. And I would never think you were that much of a Neanderthal, to just expect me to pump out babies just because we got married. I wouldnât have married you if that was something that ever crossed my mind.â
He smiled slightly. âI might have been making myself a bit of a basket case for a couple weeks over this. Had a lot of time to think about shit during those long, lonely nights in Europe.â
âWhy now though, like... this is something we should talk about for sure, but it kind of seems like itâs out of left field.â
âDunno. Thinking about what I want after wrestling. Seeing you cooing over Birdie. All the damn ultrasounds Mike is shoving in everyoneâs face. Just got on my mind I guess.â
âWait. Are you telling me that Dean Ambrose, the self-proclaimed baddest man on the planet, has baby fever?â She smiled, the teasing affectionate. âYou wanna make our belated honeymoon a babymoon, huh?â
âI wouldnât say itâs baby fever...â His tone gave away that he hadnât really ever heard the term but suspected that he did indeed have a case of it. âAnd I donât know for sure if Iâm ready, and I only want this if you do. Really. Not like I have an expiry date or anything, right? But I see pics of Roman with his boys, and see you with Birdie, and, like... I donât know.â A faint flush highlighted his cheeks. âIt gets me feeling all kinds of ways. I dunno.â He shrugged, then slid a hand over her flat stomach. âI kinda like the idea of putting a baby in here at some point. You would be gorgeous pregnant. All curves and glowing...â He smiled softly before leaning in for a kiss.
âLook at you, Mr. Smooth Talker. All flattery and cute and shit.â She returned the kiss before clasping her hands behind his head. âWell, if we wanna do this, we should figure out finances and stuff. Think about finding a doctor. And it will take a while for my birth control to wear off and all that too. So it wouldnât be for a few months at least. But if you wanna do this, Iâm down for at least talking about it and doing the legwork on it once we get home from this vacation.â
âYeah?â He couldnât hide the grin. âCan you imagine us parents? I mean, youâd be a great mom, but like, I know Iâm sometimes still a big kid.â
âThat will just make you the best dad.â She returned his grin. âHey, how about we practice getting me knocked up tonight?â
âYou really think we need the practice?â He raised an eyebrow before smirking, lifting her in place as he stood from the chair and walked to the bed. âI mean, I know practice makes perfect and all, so I guess I could always try...â
She just laughed and pulled him down with her. âNever can practice enough, baby.â