#And show it where it belongs growls. I do it love it when you provoke me I do love to showing what happens to bad lil fucking girls

[your-fuccked-up-dad-volume100]

Dragging you home after our night out and fucking railing into you because you looked at that guy for more than 3 seconds, and I have to remind you that you belong to me🔪

[revelboo]

I just finished reading the latest starscream chapter, and all I can think its the MC going "boys boys, you are both pretty, you don't need to fight over me." It's just something funny that popped in my head

I love the writing, it's fantastic, it saves me from during dead hours at work

Everything is Alright Pt 45

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Fully aware of how much his presence is aggravating Soundwave, Starscream props his chin on a fist, wings flared out as far as he can to take up as much space as possible. And he smiles. As amusing as it is to antagonize the communication’s officer, the fact that the other mech has his servos curled around you, your little hands on him is driving Starscream crazy. Making it hard to be still and not just lunge to get to you, because you belong with him. Only him. The sight of you being held by someone else is clawing through his spark.

• Soundwave is making that low, rumbling noise that puts you in mind of a giant, powered on speaker humming through you where his servos are touching you. He’s angry, you realize in surprise. He’s always so in control, so this little show of temper locks your breath in your lungs. Swallowing, you glance from him to Starscream, seeing that sly smirk on your Seeker’s face. The same smile he has whenever he talks about himself, sure and cocky. Deliberately needling Soundwave for some reason. Was he that worried about you or just jealous of the other mech? You’re betting on the latter, knowing how unpredictable he can be when provoked. Especially as you notice the faint tremor of his wings and your heart aches for him. He’s on edge, more upset than he’s letting on.

• Servos flexing as your worried thoughts spill through him, he wants to pull you closer. Soothe away that anxiety beginning to build inside you, but knows trying to do so will only tip Starscream over the edge. As calm as the Seeker is pretending to be, it’s too easy to pick up on that growing instability quickly approaching a boiling point. To realize that any wrong move and the Seeker might lash out to try and take you. And end up hurting you in the process without meaning to. Venting softly, Soundwave picks you up and turns to gently set you on your feet on the floor, reluctantly nudging you toward the Seeker with a servo. You look back at him over your shoulder, your expression easing some. Understanding. “Go, little one,” he says, spark aching. Wanting to pull you back to him. To safety.

• As soon as you’re on the ground, Starscream goes still. Not even looking at Soundwave as you walk to him, head tipping up to smile at him. “Come,” he growls, kneeling to offer you a hand. Satisfaction warming him as you settle yourself in his palm willingly. Lifting you to cradle to his chassis where you belong, he finally lifts his optics to smirk at the communications officer, but Soundwave is watching you. He won, but it doesn’t quite feel like a victory somehow. “Let’s go home.”

• Why does leaving Soundwave hurt? Feel so much like leaving a part of yourself behind? Starscream’s servos tighten around you, warm as he presses you against him so you can feel the thrum of his spark. That sensation calming you as you let your cheek rest against him, because this feeling is home, not his quarters. But Soundwave feels this way, too. Not quite the same, but something you need just as bad. Missing one when you’re with the other. Always torn between them.

• Tension draining away with the feel of you in his servos, he lifts you higher to brush his lips against your shoulder and cheek. Sees your eyes widen in surprise as you lay a little hand on his chin, your face reddening. But not protesting the contact. Not trying to push him away. Tempting him to demand more when you’re both safely inside his quarters. Replace the scent on you with his, feel you in his arms. He can push just a bit, a taste, a touch, won’t ruin anything between you. He needs to believe that. Needs more.

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[tth-pdf]

Burning for love; JJK [03]

Contents: Smut, little bit of dirty talk, supernatural themes, romance, fluff, unedited.

Pairing: Werewolf!alpha!jungkook x omega!reader

Summary: A handsome man is hunting you in the dreams world, making every day more difficult to repress the need to come find him in the middle of the night to submit yourself to his every wish.

Requests: ON

A/N: Hello angels, sorry for the LONG wait, was so busy with school and depressing myself, but here it is, I tried to do my best and please also remember that English is not my first language be kind (😩), sorry for any grammar mistake, enjoy it and take care besties! 💖

Jungkook was insatiable, he just couldn’t seem to get enough of you, he has already fuck you senseless on the kitchen counter, the sofa, the living room floor, the restroom sink, simply everywhere, but he seem to want more and more and more, he wanted so much that you could hardly believe it.

Right now you were waking up, feeling incredibly good, feeling like everything was fine, but those emotions were gone as soon as common sense started to come back to you. Yesterday, Jungkook’s hands everywhere, that incredible first orgasm, but the one who made it happen… His scent, his bright eyes, strong arms making you feel like you can do it all, but above all the interest he had in you, what makes you feel on cloud nine it’s the way he seemed to be mesmerized by your expressions and sounds, knowing right where to touch without a doubt. Almost every space in your skin was painted by the ferocity with which he seems to love you, that marks on your skin being the carnal representation of your wonderful night but insecurities started to rise right at this moment, your mother will be mad, she will yell at you that in the pack were more suitable omegas for alpha Jungkook, the nasty glances and the possibility that some of the females in the pack may try to take what is yours, damn, the mere thought of it makes your eyes turn bright red provoked by the sudden rage coursing through your body. Immediately sensing the unpleasant feelings in you Jungkook comes out of the bathroom, wet hair and drops of water running down his body, making your mouth water, so just like magic your body and inner wolf instruct you to crawl to the end of the bed and touch him, to offer yourself to him, second thoughts completely forgotten by now so you follow your instincts and touch and admire from his hard abdomen to caressing his broad shoulders and just show him that look in your eyes, the one he knows like the back of his hand consequence of all the hours spent admiring and getting to know your body.

“Little girl woke up hungry?”

A hand of his goes to your waist and the other caress your cheek and just like fire can light up the darkest place your senses explode inside of you and once again everything feels a hundred times more, all the textures around you, you can hear the sounds of children and women playing in the distance, even the steps of the smallest animal but his deep chuckle brings you to him again and you feel like melting. Even kneeling at the edge of the bed he is much taller than you, (like a shelter for the most difficult moments in life), warm and golden skin beneath your fingertips and the delicious beating of his heart calming all your nerves and insecurities.

You look right back at him with the same intensity, different shades of golden dancing in your eyes while his are different shades of deep purple, the connection between both of you more palpable than never, trying not to break the eye contact you turn your face to his nearest scent gland, which means is his wrist, basking yourself in his delicious aroma.

“I see what you are at puppy, but I’m afraid that I can only deal with you once before I leave”

His last words hit you hard making you feel like drowning and desperate from one moment to another.

“Are you leaving?, I thought that this days… Were for us”

He can see your teary eyes making him wish he had never said that, breaking his heart a little.

“Don’t be like that baby, I will make sure to end that meeting as soon as I can to come back to your arms but you will have to be a good girl and wait here”

You know he is in a hurry but you can not help but want submit to his wonderful hands and simply seduce him to have him eating out of the palm of your hand, have him only for yourself and memorize all his features.

“You promised it, you said you were going to make me a priority always, you lied to me”

You weren’t usually like this, but when he is around your common sense flies out of the window, so while you're throwing a tantrum and moving uncontrollably under his body he grows impatient and his alpha instincts kick in, putting with undeniably force both your wrists above your head and growls, the signal he’s giving you to submit, the air in the bedroom changing its way.

“Pretty girls know how to wait and to obey their alphas, I already told you I was sorry puppy and remember that I don’t fucking owe apologies to anyone, if I knew this wasn’t important I would have told them to fuck up, you should know your place baby, but good news for you, I’m feeling like even though you have been a little bit of a bad girl you deserve to remember me all over this pretty skin while I’m gone, isn’t that what my puppy wanted, huh?”

He manhandles you until you’re comfortably seated en his strong tights, holding his gaze you can see all the things he wants you to know, all that shit that cannot be said, all the things that are not expressed in a good way by putting them into words, so instead you will use your bond and body.

“Sit on my dick slow baby, make it hurt so you have something to remember, get yourself full of my pups”

And you do as you are told, you slip right where you belong to, starting to bounce yourself slow and hard but even though it feels like heaven you feel like you’re going to die because he doesn’t touch you, he is just watching.

“Touch me please or I’m going to hit you hard”

He laughs but you know he's holding back the urge to order you around.

“I love when my little girl turns all bossy”

You wiggle your hips not exactly knowing where to look but what makes you let out a loud moan of his name is the way he thrusts his incredible hips harder than you had planned, tip of his touching the spongy spot that makes you meet god in person.

“If I’m not gonna have you for a while at least show me that fierce side of you one more time baby, gods above, look at you, bouncing tits and pretty face with an even prettier voice filling my ears of pretty sounds, fuck puppy, turn around and see yourself on the mirror”

You tell him to wait a second because you want to remember him like this, beneath your body and that playful smirk but when you do turn a little your face to see the image that bites back at you is incredible, you even smile don’t exactly recognizing you but looking damn hot on top of your man. You can’t with the feelings so the first thing that comes to your mind is to grab a hold of some of his beautiful locks of hair and tug hard, enough for him to gain some more lustful rage and suddenly slam you in the mirror that both of you were looking a moment ago with such excitement, what brings you back to reality of the pleasure that does nothing but increase is the manly hand grabbing at your jaw, making it open slightly, enough for him to spit on it. And you fucking love it.

“That’s a good mate baby, swallow it all and show me”

All this time he hasn’t stopped that sinful hips of his so at this time it’s starting to hurt and you begin to loose all your grips but you now that he will catch you anyways.

All you are feeling is incredible, you fell full, satisfied. Your throat feels hoarse but it doesn’t matter as you held gazes once again, but it’s the whole moment, your own bubble. Watching his pretty eyes you realize that you have won in live, entirely.

“You don’t have a fucking idea of how bad I want to mount you everywhere until I know you are really pregnant, hell baby I love you so fucking much”

He is right in front of your face, both of your moths open but your not kissing, now he’s the one grabbing your hair into a fist but he can do whatever he wants with you right now and all you will say is thank you.

You’re both touching the finish lines and it’s then that you wonder if this is how it will always be, hot, sweaty and just incredible.

He kiss you right at the final, where both of you have reached the peak, smiling at each other like fools but entirely living the dream.

[...]

You know that Jungkook told you to not leave the room until he was back but you were really hungry and needing some fresh air, so knowing that maybe everyone was serving him in that meeting you dared to head for the nearest kitchen to just grab something and come back. You are happy when no one approach you on the way, focusing on the task to make you a quick drink and cut up some fruit.

You feel happy and complete, at ease with the environment despite missing your alpha a bit, but your clothes and body still smell like him so that’s something for now. That’s the same reason why you don’t hear the pretty and stealthy she-wolf approaching the kitchen, watching you closely.

“It stinks in here, you must have had a very good night young lady”

You jump a little because you are not supposed to see anybody in the sensitive state in which you now find yourself.

“Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to be here”

You murmured your words shyly so low that if it were not for the incredible senses of the lycanthrope body, the girl would have miss it.

She chuckles lightly and by her smell you know that she is a rare breed of a female alpha, but right now every smell its simply too much, almost unpleasant.

“No worries baby, no one else is here but me”

She is a little intimidating to be honest and It’s evident that she knows clearly what to do to get what she wants.

“I should… Probably go”

You try to rush towards the exit in order to feel protected inside the four walls where everything smells like Jungkook but just as you are about to walk through the door the pretty girl grabs you a little hard enough to make you let out a whimper. And it’s that exact moment that lets you know that something is awfully wrong, that you should have never left the room.

“Where are you going?, let me talk to you for a moment, I never had the pleasure of knowing you formally”

You know that she can her your heart beating uncontrollably and smell the fear mixed with nerves.

“Don’t be scared pretty thing just wanted to chat with you”

There’s something strange in her, something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“This shouldn’t be happening, I’m sorry but I really should get back to-”

While interrupting you she is also forcing you to sit on the small benches that are situated in the kitchen only to bring you to a full state of discomfort and nervousness.

“Is Jungkook really into you honey?”

The sudden questions makes you blink twice and hold a breath, this seems like a pointless conversation, she didn’t even try to do some more small talk .

“Pardon…?”

“Oh my, was I too direct?”

You still don’t see the clarity of the conversation because to your eyes she looks like a lunatic, asking questions about of nowhere.

“Honey, it’s just… Have you never heard what is whispered around the pack, about him and the pretty girl of the Kim pack or even worse… The boy with the deadly beauty from the Park family”

You do have heard the rumors, they were too strong when you were younger and more naive.

“I’m afraid that… I can’t help you with anything, I should really go…”

She puts his body in front of yours so that both of her arms are locked on the wall behind you, blocking any way out.

“Damn, just listen to me for a fucking second, I thought that you knew what was best for you”

You sit still because her harsh words came out more like an alpha command and you just couldn’t fight your true nature.

“Good girl”

You would never imagined that such a mundane phrase would disgust you so much.

“I know you don’t like me wolfie but I have been very well aware of the second thoughts that run at full speed in your little head about the bond that you share with that man”

if you had one wish, you would ask to disappear from this awful situation, if only you had listened to your alpha…

“I don’t understand what you want from me, please just let me go, I’m not going to tell Jungkook”

The female alpha just laughs a little, like you have said to her the funniest thing ever.

“He and I are at the same rank honey and of course you will not tell him anything, I have something that might interest you.”

Your posture is defensive but when she says that she backs a little and you take the opportunity to relax only little bit, a new look of curiosity in your angelic and innocent features.

“I don’t want to upset you honey but look at yourself for a second and tell me if you see yourself as the perfect representation of a good mate for someone like him”

She can easily see the insecurity cross your features because if anything has been bothering you since you found out about the bond it is that.

“I have the perfect solution to all of your concerns baby, there’s someone far more suited to take your place. Look at your neck, he hasn’t even marked you, but really, don’t worry and don’t overthink it, he will be in good hands. I know someone who can make the arrangements, all safe and of course you will be having a far more suited alpha”

It’s really stupid, but you actually think about it, as if all the previous moments with him didn't matter. At the end of the day all you're looking for is his well-being and happiness, isn't it?

People are going to talk, that's for sure, but you could assure him better commentaries and a better future, even if it's not by your side, but what will happen with the few moments that both of you have shared?

“In case you were wondering… No, you will not remember, everything will be gone as soon as the bond is broken. Just think about it for a second, remember all your insecurities and the bad feelings while being his mate, that must be annoying, let yourself be happy, both of you”

You are deep in your thoughts so you miss the way her canines grow in size and that dangerous gleam in her eyes.

“I… I’ll do it”

Call yourself a fool, but that tempting offer was enough for you to maybe, just maybe get yourself a better life, but above all a better life and opportunities for him… Or at least that was what your insecure brain thought.

Tag list: @min-nicoleee, @in-a-way-that-i-should-not, @imluckybitches, @teresaisla, @anachikartadze, @jeonwiixard, @seagulljjk

Nexts update: ?

All rights reserved.

[rumblelibrary]

Now that you are writing requests, I think it's only fair I send you a few after some of the ones you have sent me 😌 as you've said you were the original anon who requested Laszlo x Sapiosexual partner headcanons from me, I'm curious to see how you would write it. Take it in any direction you want to 😘

Thinking Alike [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Reader]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Mention of physical violence, mild stalking, smut (yup, there it is!)

Author’s note: My first smut, something easy breezy to begin with. Laszlo is an awkward mess and I love him.

It was embarrassing for Laszlo at first, to admit a weakness, so bluntly. Such a vile thing to do for a man like him.He tried reasoning through it more and more, lonely men went often to prostitutes, John himself did and with the extraordinary result not be devoured by syphilis or other diseases.He didn’t hurt himself nor others in the process.

The first time he met you it was by accident, he was invited by one of his former patients to visit her at her university, nothing unusual, he remembered her well: Julia, shy, small, bent down and backwards by a family that abused her very being, that abused her mind, development and growth.But to see her now a young woman, studying literature at university, thriving in her life and taking her own choices, she even started an internship with Sara, that was something that made a man like Laszlo proud of his job.

Briefly: that day was a success for him: from the meeting to the lunch they shared, she showed in every given moment how she treasured everything she learned at the Institute and, even though hard times were not over, she felt like she was able to face them.Then Julia asked him to join her to listen to a lecture, assuring he would love it so he obliged as it wouldn’t be too bad to feel like a student again and maybe spark some new interest in him.So he did, he sat down and leaned his back on the seat, the soft scent of the woody desks and chairs taking over his nostrils. He remembered how he was at that age, hungry, unnecessary aggressive and lonely. He smiled to himself at the memory.Poor John, still there to look after him and trying to give him a minimum of social skills.

Then the room fell into silence as you walked inside, your choice of clothing a white shirt and a burgundy skirt, a pocket watch on your side. A simple style, you wish good morning to the class and don’t indulge too much into talk.And there is where the unexpected happened.You open up simply, a picture, a quote. The description of man as William Blake: poet, engraver, prophet.To transcribe your words would be similar to the conflict of any man that ever found himself in the duty of writing, or better, transcribing a sacred text.The way you spoke, the way you held everybody’s attention, the way you moved back and forth or wrote on the chalkboard. The passion surging by your words digging into his flesh and bones, every cell into his body surging into an agonising desire to hear more. The way your words balanced, how you managed to go from interesting facts to more detailed ones, from hard critical informations to conceptual ideas.That was the beginning of something new, his brain wasn’t able to move past the thought of you. Literature wasn’t his field, but he felt like you were the spring of all truths. So it begun. He brought the books, he came to the lessons. He thrived in every stolen moment he got with you, he sulked when somebody caught your attention, even more if it was to make some silly comment or question, he adored the way  your hands traced shapes into the air symmetrically, it triggered him to wonder if you ever studied dancing, the pose of your fingers always so balanced. He learned every micro habit you had: the way you always looked at your pocket watch when it was almost half time throughout the lesson, how you changed pin in your hair every day, the way you tucked your reading glasses in your shirt only to then look for those when in need to read. His favourite moments were the ones when everybody was leaving the class and he could see you relax on the chair, gift little smiles around as you collected our belongings. Your presence was by now his safe place, those two hours he spent a the university were the only moments he felt free, even if unseen.

Until the day he was getting into the class to find it empty and you alone there.“Regular students got a card saying the lesson today was cancelled” you said and his heart sunk into his chest “I would be mad to have someone sneaking in my classroom, but I had the feeling to have seen you before”

He gulped down as you were so close by now, he could guess your favourite perfume.You handed him a book, his book with his picture inside followed by his name in cursive letters.

“What does an alienist says about my course?”

“I say, your dialectic is what many of my patients would need in order to survive”You were surprised, eyebrows raising and a slight tilt of the head, you expected to find him guilty and ashamed, surely he was, but that answer was bold.

“And you? Do you find solace in my dialectics?” He took a moment before staring up at you, you didn’t realised how tall he was by seeing him always sat in the back, but you noticed him at every lesson. How couldn’t you?An handsome, elegant grown man hiding among those twenty something, the walking stick giving away always his calculated late entrance in class, his eyes always on you digging holes.

“Constantly”His answer surprised you, you expected to confront him and send him away and now you’re torn between the feeling of cradling him in your arms and, what? “I could forgive you for a lunch” He smiles, his eyes shining “I know the perfect place”

That lunch became one of many lunches.Every time you had lesson he would wait for you and you’d share a meal.To open up to him felt almost too easy, but he was an alienist, that was his job. He also opened up with you, you shared books, and interests and long chats. He wrote you cards and you wrote back to him, he sent you his articles and you sent him yours. He asked for books to introduce children to literature and you visited the Institute helping him in the task in exchange of some entry level books about psychology. Lunches became dinners, long walks became longer, soft smiles became him offering you his arm to walk together. You were starting to develop some tenderness for him, you always wondered what he was thinking and what he would opinion over this or that, you craved to confront your opinions and Laszlo wasn’t feeling any less drawn to it.It was beginning to become difficult when you started to visit him in his dreams, he would dream of you in ways he didn’t dare to speak up about. Only the way you talked when you grew passionate about something gave him a sense of tension, a deep desire going through him as he touched his thigh with his sweaty palm to ground himself. You felt like he was growing distant, unaware of how he was growing somehow closer. Closer to the point he couldn’t resist you anymore, hide behind simple touches of courtesy, to feel your hand only when gloved, stare at every little stand of hair move unruly on your neck while you spoke so highly of any topic. It was unexpected the time, while sharing some impressions on a recent article, he put his  hand flat over the page and leaned in capturing your lips in a sudden but awaited kiss. You kissed him back realising how such a simple gesture meant so much to you. Your hand followed up resting on top of his still hiding the page from you. His lips soft, his beard tickling you lightly as your eyes shone.When he pulled back, only because in need to breathe not else, he looked at you but you smiled at him brushing your nose lightly against his making him break into a smile.  The happiest smile.

“Do you even realise how foolish is that?”

“Are you calling me a fool?” He growled at you. Yes, he followed a potential murderer across the city, got himself beat up, but he was alive and now he got more informations.

“I dare to say I am, loud and clear Laszlo”He frowned deeply, you calling him a fool?

“Take it back”

“No” “I said” he grunted as he breathed heavily through his nostrils  “Take it back” You never saw him this mad but you didn’t oblige his request, he made you sick worry and hid all this madness of crime cases from you through all this time, not even once he mentioned this …what? A hobby? Desire for adrenaline? “A man that doesn’t stand up to his own truths is a fool to me” you said coldly “all this time spent to talk about nonsense and you’re working on solving crimes? Who is the man that I know then? Does he exists only when Dr Kreizler is without a case? There’s even a real interest in what you ever said to me? Or you just needed a distraction?”

“Don’t you dare to contradict me, I am no liar”You smirked, by now he was close, almost threatening even if you know well he wouldn’t ever hurt you. “Then what are you?” He froze, his eyebrows furrowed, what should he tell you? That he loved the way your brain worked? That every time you bounced ideas back and forth he felt aroused? That you provoked in him a thirst for more, more knowledge, more passion, more life. You let out a breathy chuckle as he didn’t answer now, you were sad and disappointed. You indeed believed you had found your match and not another double faced man.You picked your coat and left his office even if your heart was shattering on the inside and begging you not to leave like that.You spent two weeks apart, two weeks in which his spot in the classroom was empty, both of you ate alone, walked alone, lived alone. An emptiness that was so heavy it felt like the sky would break under the weight of it. But he couldn’t think of you, the case was on, the victims were falling one after the other, and yet he couldn’t think clearly. Before just thinking of how you’d think helped him, but what about now? He couldn’t reach for you. You were right, he hid part of himself to you and he couldn’t ask you to risk your life or spend nights and days exploring the dark sides of human nature, even though your sensibilities and introspection would have made you the most valuable asset in any research. He locked himself in his office getting high on tea and pacing the room back and forth talking out loud trying to gain back the process you two formed together, the chemistry, the balance of thoughts. Until your voice reached to him. “What if it is not anger the motif?”You leaned against the doorframe staring at him, you gave up your anger.  You were there for him. He stared at you like he wondered if you’re even real. “How did you come in?” “I said I was from Miss Howard” “So you can also lie” You chuckled “Only for a good purpose” You moved inside closing the door behind you as you took off your coat and hat, you moved closer to him offering him your hand, palm up.He stared at your eyes, there wasn’t much to add.He put the eraser in your hand as you cancelled the chalkboard from all his previous work. What happened next was pure magic, clarity spreading through the space, every fact double checked by the two of  you as now the facts spread in order, clear, in a linear way, nothing was left to causality.You two closing each other’s sentences, you handing him books and him handing others back to you, papers, scattered pencils.Even you wearing his glasses by accident and handing those back as you reached for your own.It was a frenzy, a dance, a song. “So if this is a scheme…” you begin “…the killer will strike again on Friday” he concludes. You stare at him, a big smile creeps over your lips wide, you can save a life, it is only Monday now.He leans in holding onto your hadn’t with his left hand, but you’re just mimicking him as your lips collide. “How can you be like this? How can you be so perfect?” He groans against your lips not able to part from yours but to praise you. “We are” you correct him “we are perfect, together” he nodded slowly as you were completely right. He let you pull him on the sofa where he slept so many nights when he was too tired to go back home, a very cold and empty home. He took his time, he stood in front of you undoing those clothes he so carefully studied during your lessons almost to the point to know each item of your wardrobe. As you undressed him you realised how you never minded his arm or to help him undo his shirt, you found it poetic, you always found beauty in him, you saw it like a punishment due to something more special given to him.The poet Homer had to be blind in order to sing the war of Troy, Laszlo had to lose an arm to be able to see through others. So there you were, completely deprived of your clothing as he still conserved his bottom half, staring at each other’s eyes before he leaned his forehead against yours, shifting angle then to meet your lips with his. “Don’t, I waited enough” you whispered to him as his left hand between your legs to caress your folds with his fingers triggering a shiver down your spine. “I am the doctor here” he murmured as his fingers moved so smoothly over your slit gathering some wetness and spreading it together before pushing a finger inside you.

“I also am” you whispered back, voice shaking, even if a doctorate in literature doesn’t give you much of a position in this moment while standing helpless with him fingering you so nicely. “I know, it makes you even more beautiful” he assures to you digging his head in the crook of your neck nipping and sucking over your skin slowly adding another finger.You whined not able to move away from his fingers teasing your insides, and yet not what you were looking for. You pared your lips in a silent moan as he shook your hips making you grind slowly following his touch “I don’t want to play Laszlo” you begged “we have all the time to fool around, I missed you too much” “You can’t always use your words to boss me around like this” He smirked as he pulled his fingers slowly out of you, too slowly for your taste, he did it like you had all the time in this word, his fingers brushing over you inside, slowly slipping out covered in your wetness only to trace your clit with their tips.

He pulled back sitting down on the couch like a king on his throne, parted legs and back slightly slouched, while staring at your naked form in front of him moving his left hand to undo his pants as you approached. “You’re a vision”His whisper slowly pulling you in when you straddled him once his erection sprung free slowly guiding him to brush against your entrance. You looked up at him gulping softly before lowering yourself onto him. You stared at him as his eyes fluttered closer and you shook your hips a little trying to reach for the most comfortable position, he was thick stretching you deliciously and that little hint of pain only making it feel more complete, more needed, meant to be. A moan leaving your lips as you gasped for air, his weak right hand moving to rest on your thigh.You observed him as the desire was clouding your usual reasonable and efficient brain, his left hand grasping your hips when you begun moving on top of him. The pace erratic at first before the instinct kicked in, no more witty remarks needed here, you couldn’t make up your mind now.He groaned, his soft gasps and growls being the best sounds along with your moans, two reasonable intellectuals now lost into the simplest and most natural of the acts.Your hips yanked and lost control for a moment as his hand moved to touch your clit “So sensitive” he cooed, you were a mess of feelings, his head bowing down over your chest grasping your nipple between his lips. He teased and sucked, making all his fantasies real, finally touching and feeling you, your shivers due to him, your pleasure and pain completely in his hands.You gasped as he sucked too hard, he seemed to know you more than he knew himself and maybe it was true. He spent so much time watching you, studying you, indulging in every little reaction you had. His eyes dropped down between your joined bodies, he was mesmerised by the shapes your hips were tracing, just enjoying the view of himself sinking inside you filling you up completely, your wetness so evident making the whole process terrifically easy.

“You’re close” he sentenced “you’re so close” If you weren’t close you’d be after he said you were, like he decided it.His left hand leaving your clit as he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you down over him. Now it was up to him as your mobility was restricted, he begun moving his hips up holding you down, he kept going so hard slamming inside you as he held you still with just that arm, the pleasure that his ruthless moves caused to you doing the rest. You couldn’t hold back any more, your moans getting lost into throaty sounds as your orgasm washed over you. 

But he wasn’t done, he kept going as you rode down your orgasm until he tugged you down one last time filling your body, a little yelp of pleasure leaving your lips as you got so full of him and your eyes fluttered lightly because of such a raw basic feeling, that fullness that was proper of a basic instinct you felt rooted into you. If you were reasonable and aware you’d be worrying about things like consequences and having to talk about the future. But you weren’t any close to it.You rested against him gathering air back in your lungs as he moved his hand on your lower back  slowly moving it up and down, his right hand’s thumb brushing over that same thigh in the smaller and sweetest gesture of attention. You shifted slightly after few moments to look at him slowly touching over his cheek with your fingertips. “Truth for the wise, beauty for the heart” He said, paraphrasing Friedrich Von Schiller, an author you used a lot in your lectures. “Truth for the wise, beauty for the heart” you repeated. That little motto became your code, the way you reminded each other the duality you were blessed with: your bright minds and your unfiltered passion. And you’d use it from time to time. You’d write it to each other’s notes. It was your “I love you” before the love word was even pronounced.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra Let me know if you want to get added <3

[entishramblings]

The Essence of Arda [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: whoA okay so this fic took me on a whole ass adventure. I kinda just let the story go where it wanted to and ya know I’m kinda happy with how it turned out. Also, “(h/c)” means hair color...there is something I included but I wanted to make sure you guys could still see yourself as the character so yeah! Another also...I’m sorry....this was requested literally so long ago.

Request: @sokkasdarling — heyhey im gonna request smth cus i LOVE U AND UR WRITING HHHH okay so how about a jealous legolas fic where he thinks the reader and aragorn have a lil thing going on but they're just really great friends and she actually likes legolas very much?? please and thank you<3333

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) and Legolas’s paths cross in an unexpected way and the two develop feelings for each other. However, Legolas is unsure and gets jealous bc of the way Aragorn and (Y/N) interact.

Word Count: 3,661 (sorry I got a little carried away)

Warnings: angst, fluff, cuteness, jealousy, the tiniest amount of nudity

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Legolas had met many wandering souls throughout his travels of middle earth—weathered, withered, and warped humans in particular, for the elements and loneliness seemed to affect them more so. Elves, on the other hand, were bound to nature. It was where their hearts rested and their spirits thrived; therefore, the desperation of the empty lands of Arda did not affect him. However, that didn’t mean he did not wish for company. So, on that account, Legolas made his way north towards the Dundain, in hopes to see his good friend Aragorn once more.

It was there, in the northern wilderness, where he met the most riveting and thought-provoking individual. The intriguing nature that compelled his attention was that she was so unlike the other humans he ventured upon, specifically because she wasn’t exactly human.

The first time he had met (Y/N) was when her sharp canine teeth were at his throat.

A (h/c) she-wolf had launched herself at him with an unhinged jaw and barring teeth. The nimble creature had been so swift that he, even as an elf, did not have time to react. The wolf had pinned him down with a viscous expression—laughing at his surprise. Legolas was only quick enough to pull a knife from his belt once he was already knocked down upon the mud. However, he hesitated just before he was going to strike the blade into the beasts’ belly.

As intimidated as he was, something in those vibrant earthy eyes made him halt. Was it the deep churning of the sea? The fresh breath of the sky? The moisture of the leaves? The pooling of sun-kissed honey? The thickness of clay-like soil? Legolas was unsure why exactly, but those eyes reflected the essence of Arda—they reflected it right back into his soul. And here was his miscalculation, for the natural instincts of a wolf would not suspend for its prey—well, not without a familiar voice calling out....?

“(Y/N), NO!”

The creature froze. She reluctantly backed off of his form but she did not let her guard down. Instead, she circled him with those same barring teeth and low growls.

Legolas inhaled a deep breath of cold air as he tried to re-center himself, for it was not often an elf got knocked on their ass and enthralled so deep in a beauty.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and focused in on his elvish senses—feeling every nerve in his body scream out to be alert.

Legolas’s ears picked up the first indication—the speaker.

A sound of rough, ragged panting carried through the breeze as his gaze whispered upon the being who had previously hollered—a worn down Ranger.

A small grin crossed the elf’s face. Aragon stood before Legolas, with hands on his knees, sucking in deep breathes. An entirely human action. The Ranger clearly had a hard time keeping up with the canine creature—which he surprisingly seemed to be acquainted with.

“Legolas, by the Valar, I didn’t know you were traveling through these parts,” He exclaimed.

The elf chuckled as he stood, brushing dirt off his palms.

“Well, I suppose I am lucky for she listens to you well,” He nodding at the wolf for reference.

The Ranger shook his head and let out an amused laugh. “She never listens to a thing I say. So, you are lucky, indeed.”

The wolf released a snort-like sound as if she was retorting to his words.

The Ranger rolled his eyes before speaking to Legolas again, “Let me show you to where we are camped. A hot meal will be waiting.”

Legolas smiled softly, “Thank you, Mellon Nin (my friend).”

The group—consisting of man, elf, and wolf—traveled through the woodland tundra with small conversation between the two who could speak. They shared their recent adventures and current news across the lands until they come upon a handful of Rangers around a blazing fire. They were clad in similar attire as Aragorn, being worn leather boots and thick fraying fabrics. Each of them had the same haunted expressions as many people Legolas had met, yet nothing like the joyful grin that pulled slightly at Aragorn’s lips.

The Ranger introduced each of his companions to the elf as he settled down upon a log. Legolas did the same, allowing himself to become enthralled by the brilliant flames. The she-wolf left his thoughts.

As the moon rose high and stars stretched across the sky, the rangers began to settle for the evening. It was then when the elf ducked away to relieve himself.

He made his way through the twisting trees in silence for he enjoyed listening to the sounds of night’s nature. But the normal chirps and hoots was not what met his ears; rather it was snapping bones and ripping skin, small groans and weak whimpers—it was pain.

Legolas narrowed his eyes and crept forward cautiously, fearful of what he might find.

The sounds let him towards a rather large bolder that was impeded in the ground and covered in thick moss. He was startled as he laid a hand on the cold stone, for a leg protruded upon the side—a leg belonging to the canine species.

It bended and it snapped, morphing into one of human nature—much like his own. It then disappeared behind the rock once more. He could not hold back the gasp that left his lips for witnessing such a thing was—shocking, confusing, terrifying. It was unnatural, but then again, what was ever natural within the lands of Arda?

Legolas’s attention was drawn upwards as a naked figure shakily stood before him.

She stood straight, with impeccable posture, and a head held high; but that is not what claimed his consciousness. It was that vibrant gaze, burning angry holes into him.

She spoke sharply, “Well, are you going to pass me my clothing?”

Instead of responding or making any motion, he froze as if he was deer hiding from the predator once more. His blue orbs locked onto hers, for he dared not let his gaze wander.

Dreadful silence hung in their air as he processed that the person before him indeed was a wolf moments before—the wolf.

However, that antagonizing absence of sound was disrupted when life was breathed back into him and he could finally move his lips. Though it came out as a whisper, for elves were conservative creatures and such a sight had caught him off guard, it still came out nonetheless.

“You are—are not entirely human.” He stated with an expression that seeped curiousness and inquiry.

“Though, currently, I am shaped like one. So, as you are in my way, I will ask you once again to pass me my clothing.” She reiterated.

Legolas’s brows pulled together and his lips mumbled her words back to her as he searched his mind for the meaning. He twisted around and around until a pile of dark fabrics caught his eye. He grasped them gently and passed it over the boulder between them into her calloused hands.

He turned so his back was facing her. His anxiety and awkwardness reverberated off of every word that non-consensually tumbled from his lips. “You are a shifter then—able to alter your form? A wolf....so I suppose it was you who almost tore my throat out.” He paused before recalling her name, “(Y/N).” He should have stopped there if he could, but alas, he couldn’t. “I have only ever met one other like you. His name was Beorn—a great black bear he was—“

She interrupted him, “Most elves I come across are not so verbal. Though, Strider had mentioned you before, Legolas. A strange fellow you are indeed.”

A small grin of embarrassment flickered across his face, not that she could see. “He called me strange?”

A laugh, sounding of blades of grass rubbing together against the wind, struck the air. (Y/N) spoke, “For an elf he had said. But truly, he was too generous with those extra words.”

Legolas tilted his head at that for it seemed to be an insult; but before he could decide on such a matter, she called out to him again—this time fully clothed and ten feet in front of him.

“Are you coming?”

He quickly scampered after her.

As he and (Y/N) entered the area, Aragorn, who still sat by the fire, glanced up with a shimmer in his eye.

Legolas gridded his teeth and sat down next to the man. In a voice as low and quiet as he could muster, he spoke to the Ranger. “Why didn’t you tell me she was the wolf?”

Aragorn smirked in amusement before whispering back, “I figured you would eventually come to that conclusion and by your expression it was not of the best experiences.”

Legolas shot his friend a glare, but that only made the Ranger grin more.

Luckily for the elf, (Y/N) interrupted the moment. “Strider, did you save me some stew? I’m starved.”

The man passed a bowl to her as he spoke, “You know I always do, (Y/N).”

She smiled gratefully.

The Ranger stood and made his way to his bedroll, clapping the elf on the shoulder as he went.

Legolas took notice of the interaction between the two and turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him.

Once he was sure Aragorn was out of ear shot, he spoke quite bluntly, “You and Strider....are you—“

She snorted, “No, no. His heart lies in Rivendell.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow, “And yours?”

(Y/N) shrugged and glanced up at the scenery around them. “Here. In the lands of middle earth.”

The elf tilted his head, examining her again.

She stopped her chewing and sent him an accusatory look. “What?”

Legolas smiled softly, “I sense that shifters are much like elves in that regard—bound to nature and tethered in the sky.”

She raised a brow, “And what makes you think that?”

He chuckled lightly at her bold fierceness, “Your eyes. I can see the essence of Arda in them.”

(Y/N) shook her head in amusement, “Elves and their poetry.” She paused, taking a moment to think. “Although what you say is true, it is within that where I think we differ. You elves are laced up spiritually whereas shifters are tied animalisticly.” When the elf did not respond she continued, “You care for morals, I care to survive.”

Legolas nodded in understanding, “Yet we both appreciate the beauty of it.”

The corner of her lip pulled upwards and she shook her head in agreement.

......

As time went on and the small group traveled, the female shifter and the elf became great friends—bonding over their infinity with nature. The two had split off from the rangers for a little while because (Y/N) wanted to see the forest of Greenwood and examine what seemed to be haunting it. However, after approximately two moon cycles, they met with Aragorn once more. He was not with his previous companions though, so it was only the three of them.

The months had gotten colder and they traveled upon open plains so (Y/N) stayed in her wolf form. It was easier for the time being. And it was in this shape that she came bounding towards the ranger that she had not seen in a while.

She jumped up upon him, knocking him to the ground as she had once done to Legolas. She plastered wet slobbery licks upon his face as his chest rumbled with laughter.

The elf could not help but feel a pang of jealous encase his heart. He had grown to develop feelings for the shifter as they had grown close over their journey. 

Just as he felt bound to nature, he felt bound to her.

So he stood, with a fire burning in his heart, as he watched (Y/N) give canine affection to his human friend.

As the days continued on, Legolas’s irritation grew. (Y/N) strayed closer to Aragorn’s side—rubbing her face against his leg and pawing at his feet in attempt to trip him.

Of course, Aragorn could pick up on the elf’s mood and angry looks. He had thought Legolas was aware of his lover in Rivendell, but perhaps not. The Ranger had wanted to find a moment alone with the elf so he could assure him of the sibling-like relationship between him and the shifter; but with open freezing lands like this, there was no privacy.

The small trio had settled upon large rocks for the night as that was the only shelter available. They lit a brilliant fire in attempt to starve off the nipping wind, but it only did so much.

Aragorn, wrapped in blankets, had fallen asleep quite quickly; whereas Legolas sat brooding, leaning against a boulder.

It was a moment before he noticed those curious eyes on him. They twinkled with the emotions of Arda, searching his soul. With a tilted head, the wolf approached him slowly.

She crawled forward, so close that her wet nose was inches from his own. She resting one large paw upon his thigh but her weight did not hurt him.

Legolas did not move because he was taken by surprise. (Y/N), as partially human, did understand boundaries; yet, she did not seem to care about them in this instance. Instead, she studied him—up close.

The elf knew that she was searching him for answers given she had noticed his mood as well. However, Legolas did not wish to give any. Therefore, he held his porcelain elf features strong, not bending to her intimidation. He starred right back at her. Though this time, his eyes were filled with anger and frustration—and (Y/N) could tell.

Legolas was upset with her for she blatantly gave Aragorn affections.

Could she not see his heart?

He had said he would not bend to her will and intimidation. He had decided he would be cold towards her. He had made a choice—a choice that he could not uphold as he gazed into her soft eyes of nature.

Slowly, he raised a gentle hand. He brought it close to her face. When she did not pull away, he cupped the canine’s features.

To his disbelief, (Y/N) completed an action he had never seen her do before—even with Aragorn. She leaned into his touch.

Legolas’s lips parted as the moment encapsulated his mind.

He let his hand fall slowly and (Y/N) leaped off his lap. But she did not scamper off in a different direction. Instead, she ducked into his side and curled up against him. She let her head rest on his lap.

Cautiously, Legolas began to stroke her soft, (h/c) fur. He let the short strands slip through his fingers, lulling her to sleep.

.....

When Legolas woke, (Y/N) was not in his sights. He sent a confused expression towards Aragorn who was tending to the dwindling flames.

“She will be back,” the Ranger stated simply.

The elf stood and walked towards Aragorn. “Where did she go?”

The ranger shrugged while biting back a smile.

Legolas frowned at his playful expression, “I know you know something, Aragorn.”

The man raised his brows. “I woke sometime in the night. You and (Y/N) seemed quite close.” He paused, the tone of his voice changing, “You know, she never lets anyone touch her like that.”

“Never have you....?” Legolas let his sentence trail off as the ranger shook his head.

Aragorn spoke again, “My heart rests with another.”

Their conversation was cut short by a feminine voice. “Have either of you seen my cloak?”

Legolas’s head snapped in the direction of the sound for it had been long since (Y/N) was in her human form.

The shifter stood before them shivering slightly in her clothes. They were clearly not fit for the freezing air as the fabric was thin—so thin that her the curve of her breasts and nipples was easily seen.

Legolas adverted his eyes and instantly began to ruffle through his bag as he spoke with concern in his tone. “(Y/N), why have you shifted to your human form? Did you not say it was safer for you to travel through this weather as a wolf?”

She sighed, “It is harder to communicate in my animal form.”

Both of the men knew what she was alluding to.

Legolas cleared his throat and pulled out a couple fabrics from his bag. “I have been carrying your cloak.” He moved towards her as he continued speaking. “Wear this as well. It is an elvish tunic weaved from my homeland; it will keep you warm.”

“Legolas, you don’t ha—“

He shook his head, “Please, I insist.”

(Y/N) reluctantly took it and pulled the fabric over her head. She frowned as she handled the wrap around ties, not quite able to figure out how they were supposed to lay.

The elf smiled softly, “Here, let me.”

Ever so gently he took the extra fabric in his hands and begun to weave it around her form. He tied the delicate cloths in a simple knot before moving to fasten her cloak under her chin.

“Thank you, Legolas.”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “It is no problem.”

He turned to gather his belongings as they were to continue their way through Arda. However, as he did so, Aragorn shot him an amused playful look. The elf sent him a sharp glare in retribution.

.....

Within a couple days, a winter storm hit the group. Luckily, they were not far from a human town which they gratefully took refuge in. Of course, as they busted into the inn, many weird looks were thrown their direction. It was not often this area was crossed by elves and rangers—and skin changers, but they were unaware of (Y/N)’s less than human nature.

They each paid for a room and took time to settle into the warmth.

Legolas rested on the edge of the cot, fiddling with one of his blades. He had let his thoughts wander to a place he had been avoiding. A bond with nature was one thing he knew deep within his soul, but a bond with another was something untouched and left uncovered. Of course he had had acquaintances with friends and family; however, the bond he was debating over was one with a lover. He knew where his heart craved to be, yet he was unsure how to proceed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the frame of his open door.

Legolas looked up to see (Y/N). She was wearing fresh clothing, likely washed and pressed by a maid. All the filth and grim had been scrubbed from her skin and her wet hair was pulled into a tight braid.

“(Y/N),” he stated simply. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head as she stepped into his room, “Well, not entirely.”

Legolas frowned at that comment.

The shifter walked closer until she stood only a foot from the elf.

He looked up into her vibrant eyes with question.

(Y/N) cleared her throat as she gently placed something soft and neatly folded into his hands. “Thank you for lending me your extra tunic.”

He smiled softly at her, “Won’t you need it again when we depart? The weather isn’t getting warmer anytime soon.”

A light chuckle rumbled in her chest and she shook her head in response.

Legolas placed the fabric next to him and looked up at her again. He did not notice he was staring until she whispered his name.

“Legolas, why do you do that?”

He tilted his head trying to hid his embarrassment, “What do you mean?”

Her teeth scraped her bottom lip, “Why do you look at me like that?”

The elf adverted his gaze, “My apologizes. I did not mean to offend you—“

(Y/N) interrupted him, “It is not an offense.” She sighed before speaking again. “You look at me like you marvel at nature—as if I am something so breath taking.”

“You are.” He frowned, “Do you not think so of yourself?”

The woman did not say a word; instead, she shifted her vision to the floor.

Legolas reached outwards and took her hand in his own. “You are breath taking, (Y/N)—even more so than nature.”

She shook her head, “I—I don’t understand.”

Legolas could not hold back any longer. He knew he needed to explain what he meant but no words could formulate such a thing. Therefore, he gave into his impulses and did the only thing he could think of to demonstrate it. The elf pulled her into him and grasped her cheeks with his hands. Legolas drew her face downward and smashed his lips against hers. When she did not reiterate any action he instantly pulled away. Had he taken a step too far?

“Legolas,” she breathed out in a whisper.

“I...I am sorry...I didn’t—“

She shook her head and clasped his cheeks, bringing his mouth to hers once again. Their lips moved together like the rhythmic dance of the wind—swirling and intertwining with eagerness. Legolas could taste the essence of Arda upon her lips—the sweet honey from east of the Anduin, the fresh berries from the region of Eriador, the bitter nuts from the mountains of Angmar. (Y/N) moved her body in-between his legs, but she decided that that was not close enough. So, she lifted herself into his lap, letting his calloused hands encircle her waist and hold her steady. She could feel the warmth of sparking fires, the comfort of soft wool, the shield of shelter from harsh winds. Legolas laid down upon the bed, pulling her form with him. He could hear the pounding of her heart and the gasps of her breath. Every sound she made did not escape him, it fueled him. (Y/N) tangled her fingers in his blonde locks and smiled against his lips for she recognized every aspect of nature within the elf, for it was in her too. It was the essence of Arda.

.....

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back @mylittle-escapingdreams @arandomfandomblog @moriamithril

[multiplefandomfics]

Finally

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: smut, Sargent kink, metal arm kink, slight dub-con,

Words: 2087

I had worked at Stark Industries since I left college. I was really good with computers and technology in general. Hence the scholarship to MIT. Tony Stark had found me there personally to recruit. I had been working there ever since.

Tony was a little eccentric… okay a lot but he was nice enough and payed very well. He even took me with him to the Avengers tower and later to the compound after the tower was destroyed, to work alongside him and Bruce Banner. It was magical.

After I helped them a lot fighting Thors’ handsome brother Loki in the battle of New York I officially became an honorary Avenger and moved into the compound. It was so surreal. Breakfast with Captain America, training with Black Widow and giving Thor and insight into popculture from earth. I loved the life at the compound.

One evening I went on a girls night out with Natasha, Wanda and Pepper. We dressed up and they put a shit ton of make up on my face. To me I looked ridiculous but the male population at home seemed to like it. Th guys shamelessly ogled me. They didn’t see me like that very often. I didn’t really care about any of their stares. Only one certain dark haired beauty constantly made me blush when he checked me out. I had a thing for Bucky since I moved here. I was so embarrassed because I thought he’d never want me like that. I was not skinny like Nat or Wanda nor did I have their charm. I was a total geek which I had no problem with but Bucky was drop-dead gorgeous. Why should he ever be interested in me? I never told anyone of my crush not even Nat and she had grown to be my best friend in the whole world. We arrived at the club at around 10.30 pm and it wasn’t too full yet so we sat at the bar and raised our blood alcohol level. After two beers and four shots I started to loosen up and grabbed both girls hands to go dancing. The mood was hot we danced closely and carefree. Celebrating our day off from saving the world.

“I have the biggest on him you know?” I slurred. “On who?” Wanda screamed over the music. “Bucky of course.” I explained as if that had been obvious. Nat opened her mouth as if to say something else but I interrupted her: “Oh my god! That’s our jam!” I almost wooed. That was the end of the conversation.

Suddenly I felt someone solid press against me from behind. I didn’t know who it was and I couldn’t turn around. Panic filled I looked at the girls when I felt the guy behind me kiss my shoulder blade. Pepper just smiled at me and Nat and Wanda had a look on their face like “go and get some girl”. So I let myself flow with it. They would have rescued me if something wasn’t right with him. At the end of the song he whipped me around and I was staring in the eyes of no other than Bucky Barnes himself. I must have had an obviously shocked expression on my face which made him smirk. “Hey doll!” he whispered in my ear. Doll? Was he serious? My panties were soaked immediately. In an instant I was sober again. He stared intensely at me with those big puppy dog eyes and I wanted to melt. “Wanna dance doll?” I just nodded still unable to form proper words. We started dancing to the rather slow song coming out of the speakers. It really helped me relax into him and before long I had my arms loosely around his neck and our faces were inches apart. The girls had vanished with knowing looks on their faces. “Wanna get out of here? it’s so loud. I’d like to talk.” he suddenly whisper yelled in my ear. “Sure!” I said confidently I really wanted to have a normal conversation plus I needed some water. He took my hand and pulled me away from the dance floor. But before we could completely leave another guy I had never seen before grabbed my ass harshly and slurred “Fine piece of as ya go there. Wanna go some where for a quicky?” I was disgusted but before I could say a word Bucky was in front of me. Between the asshole and me. I didn’t take Bucky for a macho but he flexed his muscles and you could smell testosterone in that moment. He even showed his metal arm that I thought was sexy as hell but normally he hid it from the world as a bad memory to his former hydra days but to ensure my safety he did anything. The problem was that the guy was really fucking drunk and didn’t even notice the threat in form of 260lb Bucky Barnes in front of him. He just pushed further: “Hey shithead let me to her she ain’t yours you just met her tonight.” it was so creepy that the drunk had observed me all night. “She is more mine than she’ll ever be yours.” Bucky gritted out through his teeth. It was so cute of him to defend me. So 40s actually. “You wanna fight? let’s do this.” the madmen provoked. If glances could kill the man would have been long dead. “Buck come on let’s go. You don’t need to do this.” I convinced him. He was mature enough to let it go and turned around to leave but the drunk couldn’t let it go and punched Bucky square across the face. I just sighed and rolled my eyes at the guy as Bucky lunched at him and threw a punch back. At least he used his right hand not the metal one or the mans head would have been bashed in. Immediately security came rushing towards us and friendly asked Bucky and me to go before they called an ambulance for the man on the floor. So we left, grabbed a cab and drove back to the compound. “You alright?” he asked me in the car. “Yeah. It was a little strange though. Thanks for saving me.” “Anyone would have done the same.” he replied and blushed a bit. “No they wouldn’t have. You’re a true gentleman Bucky Barnes. I appreciate your help.” I said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Which seemed PG-13 if you considered the way we had danced earlier. “Can I kiss you properly?” he asked shyly. “If you want to.” I was a little shy now myself. He did what he had asked for and took my face into his hands and pressed his lips to mine. His hands stood in stark contrast to each other. One smooth and warm and the other cold and hard. I could hear the whirring sound of the metal plates shifting in his left one. I really had a kink for that thing. The kiss got more and more heated until we arrived. I threw some bills at the driver and we made our way inside and to my room. It was the last on the left at the upper floor. The moment the door behind us closed his hands were on my hips again. He grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head “No panties doll? Naughty girl!” he observed. He dragged the middle finger of his flesh hand through my folds and groaned at the wetness gathering there. “All for me baby?” “Yes Sargent all for you!” I tried to get him to pleasure me finally. He growled deeply in his throat and pushed me back on the bed. “I want you to sit on my face doll.” oh god I wanted that too. I had thought of him between my legs more than once but the real deal was so much better than I could have ever imagined. He laid on his back and I straddled his face. It was so strange that he was still fully clothed but I wasn’t gonna object then. I flung my bra across the room and touched my breasts as he pulled me down on his mouth and dove right in. The first contact of his tongue on my clit was like heaven. His strong hands on my thighs controlled my moving. Before long I was squirming like a fish in a net. This made him see that I was really close but I couldn’t form words to tell him. As he pushed one of his metal fingers inside my slick channel my orgasm broke over me. I gushed over his face and he was happy to lap everything up. He was still pumping his fingers inside me and holding me with the other arm even though I was very oversensitive after the intense orgasm I had just had. “Stop Bucky please. It’s too much.” I whined and he let me go as I fell to the mattress next to him. “that was just.. wow.” I panted and he licked his lips smiling. “You smell and taste fantastic doll so thanks to you too.” Soon I was eager again and grabbed for his clothes “You’re wearing too much sarge.” I said seductively. He let me undress him and then he was in an instant on top of me. Attacking my neck with kisses and nips that would turn into lovebites eventually. But I couldn’t care less. I wanted everyone to see who I belonged to from then on. “You ready?” he was as impatient as I was and I nodded. So he started to push past my barrier. I moaned in pain and pleasure “You’re so big sarge. Feels so good.” I moaned loudly. I couldn’t and I didn’t want to hold the noise back. He grunted in restrain. Bucky didn’t wanna hurt me so he went very slowly but at one point it was just too slow so I pushed my heels into his ass to draw him deeper. He got the hint and started moving faster and faster it was heaven. He hit my g-spot dead on. His length reached depths I never knew a man could reach. The pain and pleasure I felt when he hit my cervix was enough to push me into an amazing second orgasm. I clenched around him and that made his movements stutter. He suddenly pulled out of me and came all over my breast and stomach. It was sticky but oh so hot. He panted loudly and laid next to me on his back for a minute before getting up and taking a wet wash cloth out of the on suite bathroom to clean me up. I thanked him for it and felt my eyelids getting heavy. “So you mine now doll?” he suddenly asked into the silence. “I always was.” I answered truthfully and kissed him one last time. He smiled satisfied. “Good night.” I said before I finally drifted off.

The next morning I awoke with a slight hangover and a sore feeling between my legs. Slowly memories from last night came flooding back. I felt happier than I had ever been. Bucky was still snoring next to me so I got up silently, grabbed some comfy clothes and ventured towards the kitchen. I was so hungry after the events of the night before. I met Natasha and Wanda there drinking coffee and talking until they noticed me in Bucky boxer shorts and a t-shirt. “Mornin’” I grumbled because I knew I was in for a hell of a conversation. “So you and Bucky caused some trouble last night at the club.” Wanda remarked. “Yeah and then you were gone so fast we couldn’t even wish good night.” Nat chimed in. “I assume you did it last night. So how was it?” she added. “A lady enjoys and remains silent.” I winked at them. Suddenly I felt Buckys’ familiar hands on my hips and he murmured a “good morning doll.” in my ear. I smiled and bid him good morning as well. I just ignored the girls. Then a happy Steve came rushing through the door. “Mornin everyone. Did you all sleep well?” then his eyes fell on Bucky and me in close embrace and he just threw his hands in the air and called out “Finally!”

[sinner-as-saint]

hi bubba, remember that massimo torricelli edit? i was wondering if you could so something similar with bucky, or mob seb you choose so reader is mobs ex and they meet at a club and he sees her with some guy and gets jelly and pulls her to a private room and ... well you know what to do ;)

'Feel It' by Michele you mean? Oufff... Anyway, here we go

Oh, love me a classic mob!seb

Okay so, you're at a club with some friends, and the guy you've been talking to since you and Seb broke up - for a couple of weeks now

And the last person you expect to see at the club is the devil himself - Sebastian.

Standing there, with his hands in his pocket and his guards surrounding him.

Anger all over his face as he sees another guy's arms around you

You send him a smirk and look away, pretending he isn't there full on staring at you and sending death glares to your new 'boyfriend'

A few drinks later, you realize one of your girlfriends is nowhere to be seen so you go look for her

But you don't know where the bathroom exactly is so you get kinda lost

And before you know it, Seb's right in front of you.

"Are you lost babygirl?" he asks, smirking while he looks at you.

"Oh screw you." You groan and try to walk away but he grabs your hand and pulls you into him

"Where are you going? Huh? Back to that piece of shit you came with?" he asked, disgusted when he mentioned the guy he saw you with, trying his best to contain his jealousy

"Why do you care? You're the one who asked me to leave, remember?" you spat back and he pulled you closer

"Watch your tone. Don't provoke me." he said, sternly.

You sassed back, "Or what?"

"Or I'm gonna fuck you while he watches and show him that you belong to me." he said it so effortlessly

You scoff and try to leave but he tightens his grip around your waist

He dips his head into your neck and kisses you gently, inhaling your scent which he had missed so much.

"Tell me you don't miss me." he mumbled, daring you to agree while he nibbled on your skin; making you moan shamelessly

"I don't miss you." you lied, while tilting your head so he could have more access to your skin.

He chuckled. "Tell me you don't want me right now. Babygirl, look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me to fuck you."

You couldn't lie this time, you could never resist him for long anyways.

He slips his hand under your dress and slips his fingers past your underwear and toys with your clit; smearing your wetness around.

He chuckled again when you instinctively roll your hips against his hand.

"Your body is betraying you, baby."

Seb ends up dragging you to one of the private rooms at the back of the club

And neither of you can keep your hands to yourselves once you are past the doors.

"Fuck, I missed you so much." he mumbled breathlessly against your lips while he undressed you eagerly

You threw your head back and moaned when he slipped his fingers inside you; stroking your walls gently and making you whine his name in pleasure

"That's right, only I can do this to you." he whispered against your skin as he removed his fingers from you and cupped your core, "You're mine." he growled in your ear

Maybe he'd push you down on your knees and hold your face gently. "You've been bad, babygirl. You better make it up to me." he whispered and undid his pants.

You lower his underwear and take his erected cock in your mouth hungrily.

He groaned as you slowly dragged your tongue over his slit, stroking his cock with your hand while you teased his tip with your mouth

You took as much of him as you could; your tongue stroking along the length of his cock

You bobbed your head around him, hollowing your cheeks and making him groan every time you ran your tongue across his tip

He pulled away right before he came, because your mouth felt too good and he wanted to fuck you properly and remind you that you belonged to him.

"Come here." he pulled you up and held your jaw in his hand, parting your lips and kissing your open mouth while he walked the two of you towards the couch

He pushed you down and climbed on top of you, wrapping his hand gently around your throat.

"Seems I need to remind you that you're mine, huh?"

OH but would he be rough and wild, because he just needs to get all that anger and jealousy out of his system.

He'd spread your legs apart and push into you, and watching you whine under him

You pull him closer by the back of his neck for a messy kiss while he speeds up into you

He'd groan against your lips, mumbling about how good you feel around him

You could only whimper and mewl under him; his body moving against yours so perfectly that it turned your head into a foggy mess

He'd speed up again, making you squirm and moan louder.

Maybe he'd even alternate between fucking you, and pulling out to lean down and eat you out before pushing into you and fucking you again.

He'd make you lose your mind

And you'd soon feel the pressure in between your hips getting too much to bear, so you let go

Coming undone hard and violently around him, holding his shoulders for dear life

He moaned out loud and finished right after you, leaning down to kiss you so he could keep quiet and not make too much noise while he came

Panting and hearts racing; you two stayed there, him unmoving in your arms. His heavy body on top of yours, while he kissed your neck to calm you down

"Dump that idiot. And come back home with me. It's not the same without you." he mumbled against your skin after some time, and pulled away to see your reaction.

You caressed his cheek and nodded. "But you have quite a lot to make up for as well." you smirked.

He sighed "I know, I'm sorry baby. Just come home." he leaned in to kiss you, now content that his girl was back with him.

a/n: i never wanted mob!seb so bad before

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 17)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 16.1

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: You couldn't save everyone and it was a decision to sacrifice yourself for the betterment of a family you've began to hold dear. Your existence in the continent continues to confuse everyone, including you and Geralt himself.

Warnings: Blood? Poor Jaskier. Cusses. Implied rape from fuckin' assholes. No more glitters and rainbows. Bloedzuiger from the games? Gifs of Geralt with jet black eyes? I mean..why? shouldn’t it not be a warning? Heh.

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Anybody missed me?! Heehee! Now, I fookin miss Geralt and Midget together. Damn it. *sits in a corner and cries* I can’t believe I’ve surpassed my own curse where I only reach up to 5 chapters then keep a story unfinished due to lack of inspo and will. 😭😂 (Update has been earlier due to my uncle’s birthday tomorrow and I might not be able to use my laptop. Hehehe) We’re in the middle of the whole fic, bb’s. This is where everything’s going to happen now. Probably might earn some temple scratching somehow. Hehehe. 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB!  

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. (Credits to bi-jaskier and others who deserves credit for the gifs)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

7 BILLION PEOPLE IN EARTH. YOUR DIMENSION. There was a myth that seven people might look exactly like you out of the billion that were born. Though, being identical was a once in a blue moon circumstance that held no support or proof that it happened.

Twins even had their own genetic differences, their DNA's were not even the same or even mutually identical to one another.

But, you were transported into another dimension that you didn't know about and based on their conversation and how you've perceived from what they were saying is that you have already been in their hands when it never even happened from the start.

They sounded like they've already seen you somewhere when they haven't at all.

Chevaliers circled around you with their swords sheathed from where it rightfully belongs. They've had a malicious glint in their eyes, dangerous and full of spite. Disgust even included in their humanized souls---if they were even still human. They were looking as if you were an oddball. Judgemental to the fullest; vaguely telling that you were considered as a freak for being the witcher's woman.

Forest green eyes scanned yours, listless but an anomalous situation from the group of uncharitable gallants who seemed to have similar odious characteristics. This cavalier stood out rather than the rest because his eyes held sympathy and not hostility. He was gracile, the same body built as Jaskier. But, wearing no armor just like the vampire you loathed the most. Other than a brown doublet which matches his chocolate colored hair.

He crouched before you, thoroughly scrutinizing your face under his gaze; finding something distinctive or common with the lass that they have captured three days ago, "Wasn't she the one we captured, Ty? That thief named Savia?" his tone held curiosity and astonishment when he saw the exact same face of the woman.

There was no differences except from the aura he could feel. You had her face, voice and body structure. Entirely the same for his wits to disfunction from what he has witnessed.

The scrubbing echo of gravel, dirt and leather made you turn your head to where it was. Tybalt. The fucking vampire who stabbed you on the hip and tried to sell those women away. He was there, right in front of you; grinning like a mad man like he has caught a mouse in the cage, entirely anticipating this moment to capture you once again with purposes you didn't know yet.

Kolby was nowhere to be found. After trying to protect you from the hands of Tybalt, your Hirikka was pushed back by the vampire and his strength, making you screech as Kolby loudly whimpered and growled when he'd stumbled; his back flat from the far distance before skedaddling off through the woods. The simple escape back to where he belonged pinched a your heart because he had already been a part of what made you happy with your stay in their dimension.

You didn't expect his leave to be so early; in the midst of being captured by the hands of real life monsters.

If people were scared of monsters in this world you were currently in, then they should think twice because the cruel form of life in every damn world was the humanity it thrives in; continuing to become cruel, vicious, evil and cunning because people lived to strive more with greed surging through their veins as their own demons try to conquer.

Humanity was everyone's main enemy and not their monsters.

Tybalt gave you a subtle tilt of his head, his grin utterly sinister; those teeth of his never showing the fangs that you have seen back at the marketplace when he was trying to provoke Geralt as he was butchering off his knightly minions.

The break of dawn was coming to a start. Peachy orange glow of the sun hiding began to rest beneath the mountains and clouds that looked the same back in earth. Its glow have made everything more frightening while you were surrounded by a bunch of armored men and a vampire who obviously had strength and skills to kill you in a blink of an eye.

Geralt never scared you because his heart was good. No doubt about that because he had offer you his house from the first day you've met, even treating your wounds and saving you from an Alghoul who wanted to eat your insides. But, Tybalt was different. He didn't appear to be like a person to trust even the slightest except if you were a princess in the castle.

He had his hands on his hips, eyes digging to examine your face. The way he stood held power and cruelty as he clicked his tongue, "S'not the feisty one. I know this maiden's scent. She's the real one, aren't ye', you wench?"

Tybalt abruptly crouched down in front of you, his fingers speedily grabbing onto your roots and turning them in an aching posture that had you growling, teeth barred from the feral reaction. The wrinkles of his nose shown when he defiled your space, abrasing the column of your neck that ignited an intense shiver from the disgust as you cowered away and struggled against his hold.

You've heard Jaskier's footing come to a stand, his doublet spilled with his own blood. Hair all wild and facial expression livid for their sudden visit. The golden, sharp dagger tightened around his fist as he marched heavy steps towards the higher vampire.

But, his assault came to a stop when one cavalier shielded him before he could have Tybalt within reach, strongly punching him in the gut that made him stumble to the ground in less than a second. Jaskier sputtered out droplets of blood, a pointed sword punctuating the tip on his jugular.

Jaskier's pained moans made you snarl right back at the queen's right hand man which made him instinctively tut, "But, the fragrance has a distinctive scent to it now---I don't even know what's runnin' inside the mind of this whore anymore," Pause. Tybalt huffed, scoffing with a grin as he interrogated, "---What did the witcher do to ye'?"

You could feel his terrible breath on your face. His hold unwavering from the resolute strength that he had when you lowly grated through clenched teeth, your eyes screaming elfish because of how you were trying to dillydally in hopes of seeing a white haired witcher to come running towards you with his horse. But, considering how he was probably out to hunt a monster, he was probably busy and distracted. So, expecting the worst was better than awaiting for a moment that will never come.

"Me." you fooled around despite being in the vampire's hold, "---He's doing me. I've waited for the time to say that if someone ever asks me what my lover does---so, worth it, Leonidas."

From your foolish response, Tybalt sneered before nodding off towards the paladins who surrounded both you and Jaskier; sharing an understanding to do what is needed and before you could even turn your head back to check on Jaskier, they were already beating him down to pulp. You've heard more grunts from the twink of a toubadour which made your eyesight go foggy from being hopeless and such a waste to live in their world where you had no magic to keep everyone out of danger, "No! Don't hurt him!" you shrieked out loud, the gallants never ceasing despite of your pleads.

More blood dripped out of the side of Jaskier's lip as he took another strong blow on the gut; making his body jerk that laid from the outstretched land of the meadow. You've uttered one loud scream to catch their attention, noticing the other gallant that you noticed to be standing on a corner was just watching everything unfold like he didn't want to be involved with their horseshit.

"I swear to God, he's a weakling! Stop!---please, stop! You'll have your witcher! I'll give you your witcher just stop!"

With one signal of his head, the cavaliers stopped their battering. Jaskier feebly straightened his limbs over the short grass, coughing out more blood from their corporal punishments, grumbling out a grouse from your choice of words in which you described him with, "Shit. Rat. I've stabbed three knights in the neck for you."

If Jaskier didn't acknowledge that fact and the risk which he has given to keep you alive, you wouldn't have noticed three dead bodies laying on the farthest end of the meadow where the forest began to meet its field.

You've harshly turned your head back to Tybalt, wanting to spit on his face for being one of the best imbecile in their world but decided against it to not irritate him further until Geralt was around. His eyes were livid, staring back at you and in your peripheral vision, you've seen the back door of your house slightly ajar, a slip of a pair of the prettiest blue eyes hidden behind the hatch that made you swallow from the consternation of Cirilla being found and taken with you.

If one person was needed for capture, it should be you; not the princess. If one was to leave their world, it must be you because you didn't belong to their dimension from the start.

One cavalier took his mask off, shaking his head for his black, medium length hair to fall down his neck as he curiously crouched beside you and Tybalt. Features telling you that he was stupefied from what he was seeing with his fixated gaze on your face, "There's a whole lotta' crazy we got here in the continent! The Butcher of Blaviken created bloodbath for this maiden?"

Though, astonishment isn't the only sensation he was feeling when you've felt his fingers graze upon the lines of your ear; seeming to be bawdy and suggestive from the sudden touch and you couldn't help but wrest away from his reach. Howbeit, Tybalt's hand that was yanking on your head made it difficult to.

"Though, this harlot is less feisty than the other! I would rather much have her for tonight,"

The knight's sentence was sheared off when he was strongly pushed by the shoulder from the vampire; his fingers pulling away from outlining your lips with his fingers as he fell on his ass flat on the ground. You've been pulled by the hair to stand, making you pant harsh breaths from how painful it was feeling. Hands were trying to wrench his fingers from your head but his hold was too tight for you to tweak away.

"Ingrith wants her untouched just like the other," Tybalt droned as he pulled you close to him, seeming to be tall as Geralt. His height being an advantage over your small form as he dragged you anywhere he wanted. The knight who was pushed to the ground grunted from how he was assaulted, scowling from Tybalt's shoving as he cackled in a shady manner when he heard the latter set boundaries from their current captive.

"Ye' know ye' shouldn't fuck with a witcher's tart, Allard."

"I would! The weccan' wouldn't mind, does he?" the disgusting cavalier brought his feet to a stand, dusting the grass from his flat derriere as he looked back at Tybalt with a slight tilt of his head; the longer his gaze holds, it turns even more disgusting as he looked like he was undressing you with those dark hues of his, they were the type of stomach-churning that can make you sick in no time, "Oh, she's probably a fuckin' freak like him, lad." the latter stated as a matter of fact, smirking in between his words as he nonchalantly continued.

"---Where's the freak?"

They were making your blood boil by how you could hear they were treating him. Has it been always like this in his world? ergo, he was living a life where people see him ghostly rather than a gifted human as he was seen in your eyes. You couldn't help but sarcastically giggle from their rude speech, "He has a name and it's Geralt. Don't disrespect him like that when you're actually the real freak, Edward." pause. "---You fuckers are worse than any other human." before you can even think twice, spit drizzled on Tybalt's face when you've fumed and barked back, "---More evil than the devil himself and I pray for each and one of you to go to fucking hell,"

"The devil don't exist here, ye' foolish cunt!"

Without any delay or second thoughts, a deafening sound of a slap has rumbled; it was a saddle-sore, the strong smack lingering longer on your cheek as excruciating as it can get. He probably used a little bit of his inhumane strength because of how you've descended down the ground; the side of your head hitting as your whole body fell. Your palms flat on the terra firma, receiving bruises on the edge of your lips because of how you've nosedived in it.

"Rat---!" Jaskier shouted from the background before you've heard the gallants haul him down to kick his face hard.

The asshole squat down to where you were stumbled down, his face showing no pity from what he'd done; slapping you on the face like you deserve it from being all talk and no help, "I suppose ye' don't know where he is. Fair enough then! Let's give er' a lil' bit of a chase---" pause. "---He must try and serve his purpose to the land of Kaedwen other than being a freak of a mutant and slaughtering monsters for coins,”

You spat out the metallic taste of your blood that went inside your mouth, shifting your eyes to where he was bent. You've placed your fingers on your side, gesturing towards the princess who seemed to be shaking and panicking from inside the house, seeing silver clasped around her hands as she was contemplating how to defend you both from the gallants. She had the sword that her and Geralt uses whenever they were trying to train; the weapon which has been in your hands as well.

But, you subtly gestured for her to stand down and hide. It won't be such a nice sight if she did want to help.

"You sound like the castle's loyal pet. Hilarious."

The whole scenario was a fight or flight, and the logical part of your brain screams to cooperate with what they wanted before anything ends up more badly than it can ever get. You lifted yourself off the ground, sitting on the floor while you give Tybalt the death glare as he grinned because he knew the action he did was a trigger for you to comply.

"Where's the other girl?" he chuckled, watching your fists tightened to your sides when you were on your feet. A bloody, deep gash on your cheek when some stone has scratched it and also from Tybalt's whack.

"Don't even think about it, you asshole." you immediately hissed when you knew he was talking about Cirilla. The latter also stood on his feet, tall and confident that his plans were going on the right path today.

"What? She yer' daughter? aren't ye' a child?"

"I'm no child, you fucker! Stop dissing my height like this!---and yes. My daughter. She's my daughter, so don't even think about it!"

Surprisingly, there was no tears seen in your face. They didn't deserve your tears. These people needed to rot in hell, you mindlessly thought to yourself and irritatingly bit on the insides of your cheeks which slightly drew blood from how angered you were. Peering up at the man who was giving you an obvious snicker because he could read that you were succumbing from how they've caught you in hindsight and in a weak position.

The lion cub of Cintra stood behind the doorway, crying her eyes out from how impotent she was because of how everyone wanted her to stay back. Cirilla knows she could help but people who surrounded her wanted not to use her powers as she has yet to learn and control. Hence, she couldn't do anything but watch another person in her life be in a snare or better yet, drown to die in this person's own blood.

So far, hearing those words hurt her heart because she couldn't do anything when you were unconditionally risking your life for her not to be involved because that's what it's supposed to be.

To you, she was being treated more than she can ever expect; the title of a daughter that she didn't knew she missed to need, a mother despite of being not connected through bloodline. But, a woman who would care for her well-being just like how her grandparents did loved her.

Consider herself lucky even though how unfortunate her life began. She received a father and a mother that will risk everything just for her to be safe and she knew she was crying right now because she cared for you; she was concerned like how a daughter would.

Your jaw tightened because you wanted to bash their skulls over and over again until they were dead. They probably was from how you've intellectually murdered them inside your mind since the moment they arrived. You irately peered up at Tybalt, your forehead tightly creased, mouth in a tight frown as you gave him a death stare.

"You want Geralt of Rivia right? then, take me. He'll come after if you take me, just don't kill Jaskier and my daughter."

Jaskier hurriedly shook his head and audibly muttered out his negations to himself from what you had in mind. You were surrendering yourself to them. The bard promised to the witcher not leave your side as much as he would do, but his family was prevailed over the count of cavaliers who came; thinking Geralt was probably there to fight with. But, no. The opposed held a number and Jaskier wasn't mutated nor skilled to know any form of magic for defense.

He knew today will be a loss and after hearing your next words, the humble toubadour knew that you've risked your life again for the betterment of their kingdom and theirs.

"Tell Geralt I seriously need some saving---and I promise this will be the last time I'm needing him again," you forced a smile, looking at the bard with your vermillion all drenched in claret red liquid while trying to send off the meaning that you would be okay while you were away with them.

Nevertheless, he never heard the fast, anxious beating of your heart for what will welcome you to wherever they decide to put you in.

Rough hands shoved you forward, making you look away from Jaskier as you began to take grudging steps to where Tybalt's horse awaits, the image of your smile falling was the last that Jaskier can remember before you left, "---Also, tell him I have a very important secret to say so he better hurry up!"

Scattered skeletons were buried beneath the dank ground of the gloomy swamps. Nightfall has taken its course when Geralt arrived; surprising to say that he arrived earlier than he expected to. Some trees were dead while the others have been cut-off by their limbs from inexplainable reasons. From monsters who probably lived in the area and based on how the moon aligned, it was already midnight; close to morning.

The witcher was wounded. Abnormally drained and in fatigue from using his little spells to slaughter the Bloedzuiger; his arm, back and torso currently in pain due to its acidic blood that splattered him, slightly ruining the body of his armor and the under shirt he wore.

Geralt has used Aard and Igni to fight off the beast and his energy spiked low to the point that he could sleep standing on the ground. But, the idea of his family alone made him push the plan aside because his family was more important than his life.

The latter even took a faster route to arrive and slaughter the beast earlier than his estimated days.

He was just beyond drained and parched tonight.

Long, begrudging sighs left his lips. His hair was sticking all over, eyes still black from the potion he drank, clothes all wet from being shoved under the water and a face too grubby that also held burnt patches that will surely heal in no time. Though, some will probably earn him a scar or two. He was stalking towards his horse, his silver sword that was used for monsters on one hand when the witcher has heard a tiny step of footing that broke a twig, making him slightly turn his head to the quiet noise he heard.

This intruder took more cautious steps closer and he wanted to curse out loud for all the interruptions that made his life more complicated than it already is.

Human. Geralt knew it was human. This person even had a scent to it. She was a woman who had a strong floral fragrance; rose and earthy.

"You shouldn't be here," he lackadaisically declared to no one in particular as he sighed for the hundredth time this day. Heedful of the woman hiding behind a dead tree as he strolled to where Roach waited, ignoring her as he strolled.

Thus, the woman was strong enough to acknowledge a witcher in his full form as she decided to walk towards him, talking in pure fascination to have seen one in the flesh.

"A Witcher. I've heard tales of your kind. Though, I’ve heard new wicked bavardage from town that this particular beast has slayed my own kind for the sake of saving one. Wouldn’t it be wiser to choose the lesser evil or the greater good?" she scoffed before continuing, “---aren’t you quite miserly to have done such thing by killing less or maybe more than a dozen and salvaging yours?”

Geralt dropped the loot that he has ransacked from the monster, dropping them inside his leather bag with a scowl. This woman's tone of voice perking his ears that made him cease his packing.

"You were never just a mere epic," she sarcastically laughed in spite. The timbre of her voice thoroughly distinctive and familiar for Geralt to be incorrect. He gave her a sharp side-eye, his eyes jet black when his mind went in befuddlement after recognizing a face that he managed to memorize since the moment that this certain woman came in his life.

"You're the witcher they're finding. The butcher! You were the reason I was taken! Feckin' Geralt of Rivia, aye!"

She was you.

A face that always keeps his mind going in haywires. Features that can be considered as a strong weakness for the witcher because of how he'd easily let his guard down with just a glimpse of a face that could ruin his resistance over having another woman be prone of peril in his dangerous, hindering life.

Even only hours of being away from you; half a day to be precised. With just by seeing her face tempted him to reach out for what he longed for; to touch the face of the woman who'd felt deep sensations for him---accepting of what he actually was with no judgement in her mind. The ache and worry in his chest was not helping how he yearned to never leave you alone in the first place.

He couldn't help but take a step close to the woman who also had the same height as you. His obsidian eyes staring straight into her soul like he'd seen the devil and he was happy to worship; jaw tight as his lips came with a lour.

Geralt looked utterly monstrous for a person who wasn't used to seeing his kind.

"Midget?"

The woman instinctively took a step back despite of how she was running her mouth a while ago; fear shutting her confidence that she could confront him for bothering a life she also dreaded to live in. Her eyes filled with horror and disgust in which Geralt clearly has seen without the use of his doubled up heightened senses.

She was not his tiny mortal. This woman in front of him was beyond different. The real you wouldn't look at him in sheer revulsion; no profound emotion in those eyes that he was used to seeing.

She had her brows in a tight twist, sending him a nasty glare that got him humming out in distaste from an attitude he wasn't use to seeing with a face like yours, "I'm not a fucking midget! What a shitty name you've got me! Doesn't sound too nice to hear too! Ya' fuckin' brought me ill-fate!"

Geralt was quick to turn around his heel. Brooding once again from the bafflement that got him thinking again. Why did you have a person who looked exactly like you in their world?

"You're not her." he stated as a matter of fact, sounding confident with his assumptions because the witcher knows he is right. Geralt walked over to his horse, huffing out a breath off his nose from sheer displeasure as he heard the woman jogging to where he wanted to go.

"Apparently not. You're mistaking me with another unfortunate little lady then!"

"Who are you?" Geralt didn't bother to give her a glance no matter how he wanted to relieve the longingness to see your face; to know that you were safe in their home with Jaskier and Cirilla, hoping that everybody was protected and safe from anyone.

But, this woman with him was not you. He needed to remember that.

She tightly crossed her arms on her chest, eyeing the brooding man as sharply as the woman could with her maroon colored cloak strapped around her shoulders, the hood off when she'd arrived to have seen him, "The name's Savia, witcher."

"Why are you here?" he timidly grumbled, his silver sword in a scabbard after the fight. Roach neighed aloud, huffing out a breath when Savia was an arm close to her, acting like she didn't like her.

Geralt couldn't help but raise a brow from his horse's sudden actions, bringing up a hand to shush her with his fingers brushing along her mane.

Savia can't help but take a cautious step back at that; his horse's reaction making her feel unwelcome and unwanted by the pair. Though, her blabber mouth couldn't help but run on and on, being all chatty when she was in the verge of being chased down by gallants. Savia knew she could outrun them like she wasn't even being pursued from the start because she has been doing this for years; stealing lots of valuable things then never being found after as she can always escape from the brutal hands of lords, inn keepers, and a whole lotta' more.

"I've escaped! Stolen goods from the castle? Their riches? Serves them right for keeping me in prison! Oh! I could steal yer' coins too, if you want. But, now I shan't retrieve them after telling all my plans! I'm no fool! I'm a skilled thief. Sounds professional, isn't it?"

She couldn't help but giggle, utterly blowing with the wind from the occupation she had; confident regardless of how unseemly her job was to live. Though, Geralt didn't give any negative reactions because he was the last person to judge someone who had an indecent job just to live in their world.

He kills and hunts monsters for a living. It doesn't sound too appealing for a normal human, correct? Hence, he wasn't in the position to criticize a thief especially when this poacher looks entirely like you.

"---I've killed some knights out there just to escape, ye' know? Maybe a bunch! Ye’ can still count em with your fingers!" the witcher ceased ferreting around in his bag when he'd finally given her his attention. The color of his eyes subsiding and turning back to its normal hue. Gold in the middle of the night like star light illuminating her gloom and it made Savia stare at him in awe because of how he typically looked like without the potion and all.

Well, hearing the gossips about him from the women in the brothels and men who shared their wicked tales were really true because the witcher who stood before her right now was a complete knockout who had a terrifying shadow he left behind.

Savia couldn't help but pout her lips inquisitively, catching sight of his amber heavily examining her face with a gist of feeling that she couldn't recognize because of how she has never receive nor experienced the look of love. But, the woman was sure he was only blinded by the fact that the face she had held whatever he holds dear; a person he had in mind that he swore to protect, desire and care for.

Savia has never seen a witcher look considerate and warmhearted. The opposite of what people claimed his kind to be. He was the butcher of Blaviken. Perhaps, she have been a witness of his character changing with one simple cast of a face he claimed to be important.

She knew that midget was too significant to him when his face turned back to normal, stretched in a way that has him looking anxious, bothered and utterly worried from the words he heard.

"I'm wondering how I've been involved by a witcher I never seen or met. They were weird! Got me bruises because I never knew where you were and I couldn't tell where ye' live!" pause. Savia's lips emitted an awkward scoff, "---Those fucking gallants did a number on me for days that I have been imprisoned. They were thinking you would go and save me---oh, shiver me timbers! No obsidian--golden eyed witcher would save me from my demise!"

Geralt torpidly blinked back at her, his forehead tightly creasing; trying to deliberate what was happening. His thoughts immediately skipping to bad ideas and outcomes because of the fact that you had someone looking like yourself.

"They were shitty and off one's rocker! Especially that sorceress because she wanted to cast me under her spell, trying to get me examined because I didn't belong to their world---wondering if I had some sort of magic in me for her to possess. She was batshite crazy!"

He couldn't help but irritatingly shut his eyes, mutely giving himself a talk while he kept his mouth shut; not risking to be heard nor is this woman close enough for her to know what's inside his thoughts. Geralt chose to stay silent, breathing down long heavy inhales and exhales from the drawbacks that suddenly occurred.

Here was destiny starting again.

Savia loudly huffed before him, raising a cocky brow when she hadn't heard that deep, gravelly voice that sounded unfamiliar from the ones she has always been hearing, "Are witcha's always this silent? I've been doing all the talking! It's like you're a mute!"

The Witcher heard footfalls coming from a distance. Two gallants. It was only a pair for now and if the woman didn't took her flight before the entire horsemen arrives, she would be taken again and be behind bars in the fortress of Kaedwen.

Would he save the thief who made everything more complicated by looking exactly like you? Creating a mishap by stealing jewelry from the queen?

Everything he thought about would result in an intense migraine because Geralt know you'll be accused of a crime that was never done by his midget. Therefore, taking you in for captive would end up being like hitting two birds in one stone; they get to have him running off to where the castle is and also have the accused thief who didn't need no convincing because of how Savia showed up in their lives; ruining yours.

"Fuck. Why did you need to show up now and complicate things---even had to fucking steal ornaments from the queen with a face who is utmost valuable to me."

The frustrated question was sent to Savia who stepped back from the latter; his teeth suddenly barred and feral, sharply staring down at her. Totally irritated by what she'd done. Geralt heard metal being dragged out of its scabbard and it took him one turn of his head to be welcomed by two knights who was ready to pounce on him by seeing what he was.

One of his monikers slipped out of their tongues with such disgust and a hitch of their breath. There was no use for killing cavaliers tonight because this woman hardly have been involved in his life, yet he would still save because of having a weakness that seemed unfair for her to have.

Geralt raised his hand towards the taller knight who opened its mouth to shout at his fellow horsemen who held their torches from a far distance when suddenly a string of glowing, white line shot through his head; casting Axii for the men to take despite of how the witcher was feeling low with his energy that has been used prior to hours before they arrived.

It was a simple magical sign where it compromises hypnotic effect; it can be used to calm down people or animals, manipulate their minds or be used to hex enemies. A triangular white symbol surrounded the string of line which paved its way towards their heads; passing through both as they were momentarily stunned, acting as if they were puppets and Geralt had the strings.

Thus, after a while; Savia was astonished to see both armored men attacking each other like they were in a battleground and they were both forgotten.

Yet, it wouldn't last long.

"Witcher! What did you feckin’ do?!" she squeaked, heart beat racing from the adrenaline rush.

Geralt had not taken a second before jumping on his horse, gripping onto her reigns and pulling to turn her around, quickly nudging her to gallop towards the path back to where he could go home.

He needed to come back home. The heavy and worried feeling inside his chest wasn't just the result of overthinking. Geralt knows that there was something happening now and it wasn't good. He needed to know if you were safe, all in complete set of limbs when he sees you, if ever he could even get to again because the dreaded feeling was rising higher in such a toxic amount that would make him blame himself when you're gone.

Geralt couldn't even think straight for even contemplating about the idea that you were gone and out of his reach.

"Leave before they actually kill you. It can only last for seconds due to the energy left in me,"

He'd run off before Savia can even acknowledge his kindness. The Butcher of Blaviken has helped her escape. He wasn't a murderer nor did he hurt her.

"Geralt of Rivia, right?!" she yelled out to no one in particular after watching Geralt leave with his horse. The simple yell has caught the attention of more gallants, seeing the flames of their torches walking their way through the forest and through the swamps that got her zipping her mouth shut. Those two hypnotized gallants falling on the swamps behind her from beating each other to death.

Savia couldn't help but hum in interest, whisper-yelling her next words as if the witcher can hear her amongst his troubled heart.

"---Thank you for letting me escape! you're helpful after all!"

Geralt please axii my puxii LMAO. FEEDBACKS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! (Strikethough over the tags mean I couldn’t find your blog, bb’s.)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a--1--1--3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex​, @britty443, 

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​, @crazybutconfidentaf​

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​, @silverkitten547​

[zettasserda]

How the Mighty Fall (in love) - (1/2)

Poppy x MC

words: 1,662

rating: m (swearing)

a/n: alright so as i’ve said in the sneak peak, i’m not a writer and when i do write, it’s rarely so bear with me. i had this idea concept of a confrontation between poppy and mc that happens in the bathroom while mc is being already late to kingsley’s class and poppy wants to have some fun with her. 

i hope ya’ll enjoy

Sitting on the toilet and doing her thing, Bea looks around searching for any trace of vandalism. A graffiti here, a renaissance inspired dick drawing there and maybe even a letter plus another letter carved into the wooden bathroom stall - the ultimate modern symbol of love. All of the artistic things she had easily found in at her previous college and grown to love.

She zones back in as she hears someone enter the bathroom, stopping at the sink. Realizing she was done with her thing, she dresses back up and pushes the door open, exiting the stall.

And the person that stands in front of the mirror like on a fucking fashion show, is none other than the Bloody Mary herself. It makes Bea suppresses a shudder, as she approaches the sink.

"I wouldn't want to inhale radioactive particles emerging from your way, villager." Poppy states not even bothering to look at the other girl as she puts her fabulous cherry lip gloss on. Bea rolls her eyes at that, but moves to the next sink in the row. She does a small curtsy in Poppy's direction, which makes the blonde glance annoyingly at the girl's reflection in the mirror.

"Weren't those outlawed in the eighties for being totally lame? I mean, your whole look is so depressing. I may actually be dead right now." The Queen B points the tip of her lip gloss at the new girl's brown sneakers as she gestures at them.

Bea lets out a low hum of disappointment as she turns the faucet on and starts washing her hands, but doesn't ever bother to glance at the blonde.

Her lack of response brought a certain amount of impatience and displeasure on the shorter girl's face, as she taps her foot a few times disapprovingly against the bathroom floor. She checks herself out in the mirror as she starts speaking again.

"Everything about you screams pig mud. It's exhausting to look at you." Poppy pushes, continuing to delicately trace her lips using her favorite beauty weapon. Bea sighs as she finally gives in and pleases the girl with a remark and a question of her own.

"Do you ever get tired tearing other people down?" She prompts the blonde.

"No, not really." Poppy answers nonchalantly as she finally finishes putting her lip gloss on, not before letting out a small pop. There is a short-lived silence between them, until surprisingly Bea cuts the haunting but weirdly satisfying tension first.

"What, no oompa loompas in their Loubuttons following your spoiled ass around today?" Bea throws a curious glance over at the Queen B, wiping her hands with a paper towel nearby.

Poppy glares at the taller's girl reflection on the mirror, shoving the lip gloss in her handbag more hastily than intended. God, this woman infuriated her. Realizing that silence was her only answer, Bea continues pushing and the roles reverse, as they always do. She thrives on testing the other girl, knowing she is the only one who can put her back where she belongs. And it is beautiful and freeing - a great revelation in Bea's life.

"Are they finally aware of the fact that you sleep in a casket and live off the blood of villagers?

She smirks at the blonde after disposing the used paper towel in a trash can, never letting her gaze wander off of the other girl. Bea expects an answer - no, not an answer, more of a snarl, an animalistic growl. She certainly had a lot of training from all that yelling at the poor maids.

"Or maybe they're still chained up at the wall in your hidden dungeon." The new girl folds her arms over her chest as turns to fully face Poppy, lifting her left brow, "When do you take them out for a quick walk?"

This gets her attention, as Poppy turns almost too quickly around to finally lock eyes with Bea.

"Don't be jealous at the fact that I actually do have friends here. And your only known way of making them is snorkeling with Becky the cow in vicious, underhanded local gossip and rolling around in mud." She belts it out like a song and Bea lets herself chuckle at that, because how can she not at the bratty girl?

But the bratty girl doesn't plan on stopping there.

"Also that lame version of Janelle Monae girlfriend of yours is gonna drag your rep down like an anchor to the depths of Freaksville." Bea's sudden smug smile turned cold stare can cut Poppy's petite figure in half, as the blonde only snickers at that motion.

"I mean, how damaged does a girl have to be, to be into someone as annoying as you, Fetus Face." She snorts as she concludes her voiced thoughts.

This fucking girl, both of them think at the same time.

Bea continues staring at her as if she was analyzing a brilliant cut diamond, until she opens her mouth.

"Oh wow, pretty little liar isn't even aware of the fact that her minions don't see her as anything more than a self-proclaimed magnet for popularity and reputation based on levels of fear factor." Bea uncrosses her arms and starts waving her hands in the air as if she was demonstrating a rather unknown history fact to her class. Across from her, Poppy furrows her eyebrows down so hard luckily they don't combust on the girl's face right there.

"What the fuck are you babbling about, treasure trail? They're my friends, they listen to me, they care-" She tries to simultaneously stop Newbie from saying whatever next she had planned and anger-management her way through the girl's sarcastic tone and elaboration.

This time, Newbie doesn't plan on stopping herself.

"Do they really listen to you? Maybe your wallet more? Or maybe you offer some weird sexual fantasies equal to dark fetishes of a sloppy divorced businessman in exchange for a rank level up." She moves a step towards Poppy, who doesn't back down yet, even if she probably wants to vomit at the already close proximity between the two of them. Bea continues pushing, "Maybe the possibility of you throwing a hissy fit when it doesn't go your way which results in somehow expelling innocent students and your so called friends, lingers in their mind every time they look at you, Tinkerbitch."

Poppy seems distraugh as she looks at the brunette hesitantly.

Struck a nerve.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Lumps." She says finally through gritted teeth, after finishing stabbing Newbie with a stiletto in her mind.

Bea decides to do the ultimate move and get up all in the other girl's face as she moves yet another step forward. Now she is standing in front of her, the edges and tips of their clothes almost touching. Their faces inches away as they share the same breath, making Poppy's worst nightmare come true. And Bea's reveling in the feeling.

"Did I struck I nerve? Because make no mistake, Legally Blonde. Every time you open your bitchy mouth to shit on someone for no reason at all except your own dissatisfaction and low self-esteem, you take one step closer to everyone seeing that you are actually pathetic."

Bea doesn't smirk or smile this time after ending her sentence. She gazes down at the girl in front of her with a more sad kind of look. It's pity and Poppy can smell it, making her lower lip tremble in rage.

It takes all of mother nature's willpower and strength not the end the pig girl right in that moment, to take her by her disgusting lice infested curly brown hair and completely destroy her in the academy's meticulously clean bathroom. What a sad death that would be though. For the bathroom's tiles surface, not for the pigsty standing in front of her.

"First of all, your hideous sneakers are provoking me." She composes herself after snapping out of her thoughts, but doesn't back away, "Second, your mustache is thicker than Borat's", she throws a glance at the taller girl' lips and lingers a bit longer than intended before quickly looking up at Bea's eyes again, "so you might want to do something about that." She smiles proudly, thinking of how spot on that reference was on and Bea rolls her eyes at that.

"And third," the blonde continues, "you fucking rustic scarecrow, ship yourself back to Losertown or whatever sad country you came from. You don't know me and you don't know what you're talking about."

Bea doesn't say anything at that. Poppy celebrates her victory.

The taller girl stays mute as she just looks at her curiously for a bit, which unsettles Poppy as her stomach drops a little. Any kind. Then Bea does something that probably almost no one at Belvoire Academy dared to. She glances at the blonde strand of hair on Poppy's forehead that moved there while she was going all berserk with her speech. She casually grabs it between her fingers and softly tucks it behind the blonde's ear.

Poppy blushes uncontrollably at the action as they lock their gaze once again.

"Let me write you a reality check, Ritchy Bitch. Your two apostles? They don't give a fuck about you. Honestly, no one at this academy does." She ends it with a shrug and Poppy hisses, "You don't fucking know anything, you filthy skank." She almost spits at the brunette in front of her, boiling with frustration.

"Do you really think the foundation of a relationship is based on fear and disrespect? How fucking dense can you be?"

"I don't give a fuck about your free lessons on ho-" A hand covers her mouth suddenly which startles Poppy, but keeps her in her place as intended. Dark brown eyes appear even more closer than they were before, as Bea's face was inches apart from the blonde's own.

"I'm talking, shut up." Bea orders and Poppy complies.

—— —— —— —— ——

tagging people that wanted to be tagged and shamelessly tagging those who i think might enjoy this fic:

@uhh-the-green-thing @origmansello​ @ save-me-the-last-dance @ ognenniyvolk @ imdreamingof-you @ nias-missellarious @ uselesslesbianfr @ jkeiontheworks  @somewillwin @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @captain-hanadeleine @simpforpoppy @poppysmc

also happy queen b day!

[melodypond-thewomanwhomarriedme]

Hiiii, I can’t decide if I need this to be mattex or River/Docotr but #11 and #35 🥺

#35: “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”/Mattex

They’re playing a game. Matt quite likes this game, though he would never admit it to Alex. She delights in making him furious by flirting with everyone and strutting around with her hips swaying side to side and making him salivate from across the room. 

The game started last month. Alex was trying her best to make Matt jealous and it worked - she paid dearly for her cheek and disobedience when he took her back to his flat. Sometimes he can still see the very faint imprint of his hands on her arse, something that never fails to arouse him.

This is the third time she’s doing this, and clearly she’s pulling all the punches. Already he’s seen her touch a man’s arm, whisper in his ear and laugh that little enchanting laugh that puts everyone who hears it under her spell. The twinkle in her eye betrays the excitement she feels at what is sure to happen at the end of the night - and to be honest, he is tempted to withdraw and do nothing just to teach her a lesson. 

But he doesn’t have it in him to upset Alex like that. And really, he can’t contemplate tonight ending without fucking Alex really, really hard. 

Her colourful dress makes her stand out against the backdrop of women in skimpy clothes. Compared to the rest, a lot of her is covered but Matt can’t seem to draw his attention away from the little things - things like the dip of her collarbone, the shape of her lips, her smooth jawline and the way her dress nips at her waist and flares at her hips. He especially likes that she’s showing her legs today, something she does far too rarely for him. 

She steps even closer to the man she’s talking to and leans in close, whispering something in his ear and hitting his chest with laughter at his response. She throws her head back and the lovely shape of her neck is exposed - Matt’s head fits perfectly in that space. Just last night, he had buried his face in her neck as he fucked her through a second orgasm, biting her skin roughly. 

The marks that blossomed from that were skilfully hidden with makeup, but it gave Matt utter satisfaction knowing exactly where they were. 

The man bares his teeth at Alex; Matt feels the faint urge to growl like a predator being threatened in his own territory. He pushes himself closer to her and his slimy fingers hold her waist - but she doesn’t push him away. 

She always pushes them away.

Instead her grin grows wider and her hand falls from his chest, trailing down his stomach and to his belt, flicking the buckle lightly as she takes another sip of her drink. Her eyes are wide and twinkling in excitement, her lips curving into a smug little smile as she bites her lip in a way that she knows drives Matt absolutely wild. 

Matt can feel actual anger coursing through him as she watches her. It had always been pretend before; a show of anger to satisfy her the way she wanted. But now, as she looks at that stranger with a look supposed to be reserved only for him, he feels genuine rage and white hot jealousy clouding his head, his fingers clenched tightly around the glass he’s holding for show. 

He knows she’s doing it on purpose. He knows she’s provoking him to get the exact reaction that he’s giving but he can’t help it. No one can touch her. No one can even so much as look at her with hunger in their eyes. He is the only one of them all who gets to fuck her night after night and they can all shove it. 

And her.

That seductive, bewitching temptress. She knows exactly what she’s doing to him. She wants him to spank her - to fuck her just hard enough to hurt. He will give it to her. 

Setting his jaw in a menacing scowl, he approaches both of them. Alex’s eyes light up naturally as she sees him approach as though she hasn’t seen him for weeks. It is something they need to be able to play this game - secrecy. 

“Darling! How are you?” she says, nothing but delightful and pleasant. She reaches up to kiss his cheek and his hands stray to her arse, simply resting his hand there. “You look wonderful. Matt, this is Trevor Gaye. He’s the producer for that Netflix show everyone’s been talking about.”

“Nice to meet you,” Trevor says, holding his hand out. Matt shakes a little harder than he normally does, though everything else about him is perfectly natural. “Alex was just telling me about how she was hoping to bump into you after not seeing you for so long.”

“Was she?” Matt asks, turning to look at Alex with a smile, but his eyes were dark and dangerous. “You said you were going to call me more often, Alex. Do I need to start spanking you so you can keep your promises?”

Trevor blinked. Alex stared at Matt for a few long moments before she started laughing, hitting his arm lightly. 

“I’m sorry darling,” she says. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t been able to talk to anyone lately, really.” 

She turns to Trevor suddenly and offers him a charming smile. “Dear, could you fetch me a refill?”

Trevor, who seems too stunned by Matt’s forwardness, smiles uneasily and accepts Alex’s empty glass, excusing himself from the conversation. 

Matt turns to Alex. “I really should spank you,” he says idly, swirling his drink with a finger. “But you would like that far too much, wouldn’t you?”

He slides his finger into his mouth, licking the drink off and releasing it with a small pop. Alex watches him hungrily, her own eyes darkening - the very first sign of weakness she’s shown all evening. 

“How should I punish you?” he asks softly, studying her as he thinks about the appropriate punishment to give her. “Maybe I should tie you up, make you helpless. Give you a blindfold, perhaps, so you can’t tell when and where I’m going to touch you.”

Alex swallows but maintains eye contact, and he leans in further, just close enough to affect her but far enough that the onlookers do not suspect them being too cosy. 

“Or maybe,” he whispers, his breath warm on her skin, “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to. Make you wear it whenever you go out. Then maybe you’ll stop flirting with Trevor over there and start behaving like a good girl. Hmm? What do you think?”

She takes a few moments to answer, dazed.

“Then you’ll have to tell the whole world we’re together,” she says, smiling as though challenging him. “And you would never do that?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “I wouldn’t?” he asks, even softer. “You think I wouldn’t like the whole world to know that I fucked you so hard on the sex swing that you came all over the floor, your legs shaking?”

“Matt,” she whispers. “Trevor’s coming.”

“No. You’re coming.” he says, stern and rough. “Give him an excuse. Any excuse. We are leaving now.”

“But -”

“Now, Alex.” he says fiercely, letting his anger and impatience show. “If you’re not in the car in five minutes, I will come up here and pull you with me. Do you want to make a scene?”

“No.” she says compliantly. 

“Good girl.” he says, and he walks off.

*

It is four minutes and forty-seven seconds later that she opens the car door to the passenger seat and slides in, cheeks red and breathless. 

“Matt, I -”

But he ignores her, reaching over and pressing the lever under her seat that allows her to slide all the way back. 

“Spread your legs.” he instructs. 

She stares at him, wide-eyed. “Here?” she asks uncertainly. 

He raises an eyebrow in reply and she complies, hesitantly spreading her knees as far as she can go in the tight space.

“Move your dress.” he says, in the same commanding tone. “Pull your knickers down. I want the smell of you all over the car.”

She whimpers and does as she’s directed, taking her knickers off and giving them to him. He has to stop himself from bringing them to his nose and breathing in deeply - he has to control himself to teach her a lesson.

“You’re not allowed to put anything inside you, understand?” he says strictly to her. “Not a finger; not so much as a nail inside your cunt. Rub your clit, do whatever you need. But if I see anything enter you, you won’t be allowed to come. Understand?”

She nods. He scowls at her.

“Answer me.”

“I understand.” she whispers. 

“Good. Touch yourself,” he says, changing his tone. She obeys immediately, her fingers flying between her legs. “The faster you come, the closer you are to getting fucked. You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, please.” she answers breathlessly, her fingers already rubbing at her clit urgently.

“You like making me angry? You like it when I fuck you angry, don’t you?” he asks, his eyes fixed on her cunt and her fingers, flying desperately over her flesh. “You like it when I drive into you so deep, don’t you? You like it when you’re kneeling on the bed and I’m standing over you, my legs next to your hips and I pound into you so hard your bones shake. You like it when I come all over your pretty little face.”

“Matt,” she cries, her voice all needy and high-pitched. “Please, please touch me. Please, Matt.”

“No,” he says coldly. She shuts her eyes in despair as her fingers continue moving between her legs, her entire body moving up and down with the rhythm. “I’m teaching you a lesson and you will learn it.”

“I’m sorry.” she whispers.

“Good.” he says. Then he continues: “I think I’ll book a hotel for us tonight, hm? I feel like fucking you somewhere new. I’ll reserve a suite and I can fuck you against the wall, make sure the people next door can hear us. You like that, right? You like people hearing you come. Such a needy little slut you are, Alex.”

She whimpers again, her fingers moving faster. 

“Oh, and I’ll fuck you just the way you like,” he says softly. His eyes are still on her cunt and he’s beginning to itch himself - he wants to touch her, wants to lick and suck on her until she’s dry. “On the balcony, stark naked. One leg up on the railing as I fuck you from behind, pulling your hair so hard. Do you think anyone will see us? Or maybe I’ll give you a little lick, your legs spread around my head. Will that satisfy you?”

She’s getting even more desperate now, crying out as her fingers move forcefully along her cunt, wet and sloppy. Matt can smell the delicious scent of her - it is enough to make him salivate. He knows that he will not be able to leave this car park without tasting her at least once.

“You are going to come, Alex,” he says softly, reaching over and pushing her fingers aside. She stares, confused and wide-eyed at him, but he is unable to resist the smell of her. “Look at me.”

She looks up at him as his fingers find her cunt and enter her. making her shiver slightly. Her insides are pulsating around his fingers, desperately clenching at him. The thought of his cock inside her is enough to make him heady.

“Who do you belong to, Alex?” he asks, resting his fingers just inside her. 

“You, Matt,” she answers immediately, never breaking eye contact with him. 

“And who do you fuck?”

“You, Matt.”

“And who do you come for?” 

“You, Matt.” 

“Good girl,” he whispers, leaning over and pressing his lips to the side of her head as his fingers start moving. Her own wet fingers circle his wrist as her hips jerk off the seat, but his movements are unmerciful and unrelenting, with the sole purpose of making her come. “Come for me, my good, good girl.”

She comes instantly at his voice - his deep, seductive voice that is sex personified. His fingers are drenched and he licks them gratefully, breathing in deeply. 

“Matt,” she whispers, looking utterly debauched. Her hair is in a disarray and her dress hiked, her lovely cunt still exposed and her knickers tangled around her heels. “Matt, please?”

“Okay,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss her deeply. “Hotel?”

She nods. 

[headoverhiddles]

You're So Vain - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You wear a Rob Zombie dress to your boyfriend's double headliner concert. This article of clothing has a certain effect on him, and it’s not good.

Notes: Heaven Upside Down era! I just banged this one out fast (that's what she said) and figured it's passable enough to post. Takes place in the same timeline as "Just For Me." Enjoy the light dom/sub jealous!Manson quickie! ALSO HAVE YOU SEEN HIS NEW HAIR FROM THE OSCARS PARTY??? 

His eyes meet yours through the mirror as he shadows his eyes. You can tell immediately upon your entrance into the room that he’s not pleased, and you can’t wait to hear why this time. 

"What's that?"

You look at your boyfriend, to see where he's looking now. His eyes are on your clothing. "What do you think it is? It's a dress." 

"Don’t need your attitude. Is that really what you're wearing? For the show?"

You sigh. He always has a way of making you feel special. "Yes." You spin around in your black and red dress, adorned with symbols, splatters and big "Rob Zombie" logos on it. "I think it's perfect, since you're playing the show with Rob, Twins of Evil, yada yada." 

"I'm sure Rob’s going to love that," Manson says in a low voice, and the undertone of irritation does not go unnoticed by you. He sucks in his cheekbones to dust them with a powder puff of blue, and you dissect the darkness in his eyes. You can’t say you didn’t know this was going to happen, when you wore a dress with his co-headliner’s name all over it. You know how possessive your boyfriend can get. 

Provoking? Of course that’s not what you’re trying to do...

You smirk, walking over to smooth your hands down his chest. "Jealous?"

"I’m not jealous. But you've got his name emblazoned over your tits."

"And whose tits are they?"

"Mine."

"The correct answer there would have been "yours," but the jury will accept it."

Manson grumbles some more. "When did you even get it?" 

"I ordered it."

"With my money?"

"Look, I'm supporting my friend. He's in the band."

"In case you don't remember, Ginger was my drummer for 15 years."

"Well, he's not anymore. What do you want me to say?! I'm not gonna wear a dress with you on it! I've got you on my body every other night of the year, I don't need it tonight."

"You don't think I'm going to fuck the shit out of you tonight?" 

"Not at the rate you're going," you tease. 

“Watch yourself.”

“Make me.” It’s a clear invitation, up in the air. 

Manson looks like he's about to literally growl, but turns back to finish his makeup, sulk, and down his three "complimentary" glasses of stadium beer. It’s not worth it to start anything with you ten minutes til showtime, and you have to say, you’re disappointed he doesn’t make a sport of it. 

When your boyfriend goes out on stage first, Zombie's band comes in through the backstage, along with your best friend from when you two worked in Vegas together. "Kenny!" you grin, jumping into his arms. He picks you up in a hug, that drummer strength useful in boosting you up. 

"Ah, (y/n)! Glad you could come on this leg of the tour. I was so excited when I heard we were playing with Manson again, couldn't wait to see you."

"We're definitely meeting under calmer circumstances this time," you smile, arms wrapped around him tight.

He laughs, remembering all the backstage shenanigans from the late 90s touring days with you along for the ride. "Yeah, it's much more chill with Twiggy and Pogo gone. And Manson's toned down a little I guess."

You cock your head. "In a manner of speaking."

"It's kind of nice. It's like we've grown up, you know?"

"I don't think Manson will ever grow up," you laugh. Ginger pulls away to look at your dress, finally noticing it.

"That's super cool... what did he think of it?"

You giggle. "What do you think he thought of it?"

Ginger shakes his head, remembering the fiery look of pure rage his ex boss had given that one guy from the pit at that one concert in 1999. The guy’s never gonna change, I swear.” 

Rob comes in, punching the air. "Ready to fucking ROCK!?”

"Totally!" John calls from a distant room.

"Woah," Rob says, "You must be (y/n). Ginger's told me all about you."

"All bad?"

"Jesus, yeah. Heard about the time you got plowed on stage in '99. Typical Manson. Cool dress." Rob looks at your outfit. "Really cool. Hey, what's up with your bf?"

"What? What about him?"

"He's crashing and burning out there. Crowd's pissed, whiiiich means I'm gonna have to save the show."

"Shit..."

"Bad day?"

You sigh, and walk out to the wing. Rob's right. The crowd is practically rioting, and they're not the only ones who are pissed. Manson seems to be out of his mind, singing Kill4Me with a particularly hard edge and apparently a version that skips every third lyric. He then launches into an overly aggressive rendition of The Beautiful People.

You know exactly what this is about.

Rob jostles your shoulder as he prepares to go out, wishing you luck when you should really be the one wishing him luck. Ginger gives you a low five, and you take a deep breath as Manson comes stumbling off stage, makeup trailing down his face and neck from the water he always spits upward.

"Could you be anymore of a child about this whole thing?" you demand, crossing your arms. He points a wavering finger at you, letting the security carry him properly toward the hall.

"Don't. Even."

"Oh, don't what? Don't what? I can't wear a dress now?"

"Wear whatever the fuck you want, I don't care." Piggy D hurries between you two awkwardly to run out on stage.

"You are being such an asshole."

"Whatever. You wanna misinterpret how I... what I'm..."

"I know you, you're jealous."

He shoves the security off, coming back over. "I'm not fucking jealous."

"It's a dress. What, you think I wanna fuck Rob?!"

This time, he does growl. His tall, imposing form advances on you, and despite his debauched appearance, the intense darkness in his eyes is unmistakable for anything other than hunger. Real fear flickers through you for a split second.

"Wanna try that, little girl? Hm?" You shiver, breath quickening, but you've known your boyfriend for far too long, and you're not about to back down now. You want him hard and fast, and it’s your turn to get him back for making you wait.

"Maybe I do," you whisper defiantly. That does it. He tears the straps on your dress. You moan, letting him reach in and grab your thighs, and lift you against the wall with ease, pinning you there. 

"You want me to drag you out on that stage, and fuck you in front of the crowd again?” 

“You only teased me in front of the crowd,” you have the nerve to reply, “You never actually fucked me out there in front of anyone.” Manson holds you by the neck as he roughly marks you down your jawbone. 

“That’s because you're mine," he mutters, hurrying to get his dick out, "You're fucking mine. Only person gets to see these tits, see this pussy? Is me." He leans in to hiss: “Only one who gets to see you gush is me.” 

You can't protest, caught up in a rush of arousal as his stage pants rub dangerously close to your clit. You grind your hips forward, desperately seeking his touch. You’ve never wanted him so bad, his stupid fucking feral expression covered in pink and blue gloss driving you wild. 

"Fuck me," you gasp, not stopping to wonder if the roadies were around or minding their own business.

"Oh, I'm going to, baby," Manson whispers, finally getting himself out of his briefs, "You need to remember who you fuckin' belong to." He tugs your hair back sharply, and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You scream from the shock of it, and wetness starts to drip down your thigh.

"Ah," you hiss, pussy clenching desperately to be filled, "Do it again."

Manson bites down your flesh to the tips of your nipples, leaving pink marks across your chest. He reaches up, letting your leg fall slightly as he slips two fingers inside you. 

You gasp again, louder this time over the beat of Rob performing Superbeast, and clutch tighter to your handsy boyfriend. He comes back up to suck your neck, nipping slightly at the sensitive spots where he marked you before.

"Fuck me, come on," you chant, “Fuck me like you did that day.” He grabs you again by the neck, dragging you in for a rough, sloppy kiss. A hard pound, and your back hits the wall in rhythm with his body. He doesn't wait for you to adjust, and you both know you don't need him to. He slides in deep, with you very ready to take him, and he pulls back easily before thrusting back in harder, the weight of his body pounding against you heightening the thrusts. His belt buckle jangles with his every movement. 

"How much do you love this cock?”

“I love it, I want it--”

“Can Zombie do this?" 

"No--"

"Could he make you cum like this?"

You whine. "Only you can make me cum." 

"That's right. Don't ever forget it, or I’ll fucking remind you again." He kisses you again, all sloppy tongue, and your hair falls forward between you two as he puts every ounce of effort into bouncing you on his cock. He thrusts one more time with a low grunt, and the pain in your scalp as he tugs again sends you over the edge into a much needed climax. He freezes too, deep inside of you, and you feel him finish.

Manson lets you down, groaning as he rubs the sweat and shiny makeup off his face. Adrenaline shooting through him from both his show and the sex, he’s spoiling for a fight as was usual in these moods. He glares at a stage tech who had been coiling ropes. “Fuck you staring at?” The poor guy looks down in terror, carrying on with his job. Yep, Ginger was right, you think with a smile. He’s never gonna change. No matter how long it’s been, he’s still the same Manson you’re stuck with.  

Manson zips up his pants again and unbuttons his restricting black stage vest. Breathless and rubbing your hands around and down your boyfriend’s chest, you pout at your ruined dress in the mirror, straps dangling down your arms. 

"Look what you did to the dress, baby.”  

“Looks better this way. Now you can’t see his name, you can just see your tits,” he smiles lazily, sucking on his bottom lip lasciviously. 

“You’re a dirty old man, always looking at my tits.” 

“What am I supposed to do? They’re tits, they’re attached to your chest, and I think you’re hot.” 

You hide your flushed smile as you turn your nose up, sighing for show. “You do realize it's not normal that the best sex we have is when you're jealous."

"Since when are we normal?" He looks at you through the mirror, tired and grinning. "And I told you. I'm not fucking jealous." 

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

The Favourite of the Gods

anon requested: Hi! Could you make an imagine where the reader is ivar girlfriend or is very close to him, and instead of killing Sigurd he kills her by accident when she tries to stop him? Pleaseeee

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Warnings: bit of violence

Word count: 1,886

Length: one-shot 

A/N: I wanna thank the anon for requesting this - it sure was a fun thing to write! Already making good time of the quarantine. Stay safe and enjoy xx

Being as close to Ivar as you were had its ups and downs.

Ivar was always very kind and attentive with you. You’ve been by his side for as long as you could remember - you two always played together when you were kids. Aslaug took care of you when you were at the Great Hall, fulfilling as she could the absence of your long deceased mother - a shield-maiden, fighting side by side with Lagertha, the first wife of Ivar’s father.

Ivar and his temper weren’t strangers for you, but most of times you weren’t in his danger area - you could count on one hand the times he had been rude to you, but you were never the reason of it. Also, he had never lost his temper towards you.

How could he?, you being truly loyal to him. You were different from the other kids - you didn’t avoid him and you didn’t paid him any pity behavior. Ivar was simply a kid who couldn’t walk. What was the big deal?

It was no surprise that, as you two grew, so did your feelings for each other.

And it wasn’t a surprise that none of you had the guts to tell each other.

And everyone could see it, except both of you.

But always being by Ivar’s side had a couple of low points, the very first of them being the target of silly stupid jokes of his brothers. The worst of them was Sigurd in the first place, followed by Hvitserk and then Ubbe. In front of you Ubbe was kind, but when he was with his brothers his behavior would totally change.

You never cared about all of that, but Ivar couldn’t help himself - he always snapped at his brothers, mainly Sigurd.

People of Kattegat would always whisper about you - were you two together? How could you like Ivar, one way or another?

You didn’t care for any of it, as long as you had Ivar there with you. He was different not only from his brothers, but from all the people of Kattegat - he was extremely clever, perseverant and had the most unique humour. What the Gods took from him they gave him other things in exchange. 

It was no wonder that, when Ivar came back from Wessex without Ragnar and decided to avenge him with the Great Army, you tagged along. Not in the war, of course - you weren’t a warrior, neither a shield-maiden. You were just you, Ivar’s best friend, the daughter of the smith. Ivar’s love interest - although you didn’t know that.

The Great Army won, and the Ragnarssons were having a feast - Ivar insisted that you joined him at the table with his brothers, but you declined, claiming that only family should be there.

“You are family, Y/N,” he said.

“I mean only the Ragnarssons, Ivar,” you said in a sweet tone.

“Yeah little brother, only men here. Put her in the table with the other women, where she belongs,” Sigurd said. His comment hurt your feelings, for it was quite unnecessary.

“Come on, there is no need for that,” argued Ubbe. Ivar’s gaze was at Sigurd, his jaw clenching, his hands in fist, trying to contain his anger. You held his fist and whispered at his ear:

“It is your victory, Ivar. Do not let him ruin it. I will be fine, truly,” you gave him a soft little smile.

“You will sit at Harald’s table. That is the closest,” Ivar’s tone showed that it would be no argument over it. You nodded and sat between Harald and Halfdan.

“I guess being Ivar’s puppy does not grant you much advantages as you imagined, right?” Halfdan said.

“I am not his puppy,” you said only.

“Of course not,” it was his response.

You were used to these kind of comments, so it didn’t bother you so much.

“He might be young, but he is very much clever,” you said.

“At what point?” Harald asked figuratively.

“To all the points. He is the favourite of the Gods.”

“Favourite of the Gods?” Mocked Halfdan. “It is no wonder that the Gods have a different type of humour,” you slammed your fist at the table.

��The Gods act in the most different ways, that is for sure. But you do not, ever, should doubt of them. Ivar is the favourite of the Gods.”

“Whatever you say. We are just their toys anyway. We only fit to give them joy.”

Ivar was paying attention to what was happening at your table.

“So,” Bjorn stands up and raises his horn. “Our victory was greatly succeeded. Skål!”

Everyone raised their horns.

“Skål!” You said along.

As Bjorn sat down, Ivar began explaining he would stay, but to make use of the Great Army, and not to settle down as a farmer. Many amount of people cheered at him, including you. With an army as great as this one, who would want to stay and settle, like Ivar said? There it was a chance to attack and raid and leave being conquerors. 

As the warriors were occupied talking with themselves, cheering, it seemed to you that the Ragnarssons were having some kind of disagreement. You’ve been by their side long enough to know when the thing was beginning to get serious. Sigurd felt uncomfortable on his seat. 

“Who among you will follow me?” Ivar began again, ignoring his brothers. “Who will follow me into battle, for the love of Odin, the All-Father?!” Most of men were cheering Ivar, applauding him. You followed them into shouts. 

The discussion among the Ragnarssons took place over the table again, this time between Sigurd and Ivar. This couldn’t be a good sign - of course any discussion between these two was a bad thing, but Ivar was already pissed at Sigurd for not letting you sit with them. This could only end badly.

“We have to stick together,” Sigurd was reasoning.

“Frankly, dear Sigurd, I do not care what you say; the truth is, I would not even piss down your throat even if your lungs were on fire,” Ivar said that loud enough so everyone could hear it. You were already standing up, hands on the table, ready to take a step if needed. Everyone laughed of Ivar’s comment.

“Well, maybe that is because you are not really a man, are you… Boneless?” Sigurd had a petulant tone. You had no idea what Sigurd was talking about, nor what did he meant. Ivar freezed, apparently in shock. You went around the table, ready to go up where they were. Ivar was silent while Harald and Halfdan declared their intentions, whether they’re going with Bjorn into the Mediterranean or having other business elsewhere.

Bjorn provoked Ivar about his intentions with the Great Army.

“After all, what kept the Ragnarssons together was the death of their father.”

Ivar leaned on the table, shoving away his shockness. “Who does not want to treat the army together maybe it is you, who wants to go away to sunny places! Everyone else can follow me,” you knew well enough that slightly hint that took over Ivar’s tone.

Sigurd got up, raising his voice. “I do not want to follow you, Ivar. You are crazy. You have the mind of a child,” Ivar growled. 

“And all you do is play music, Sigurd,” Ivar showed his teeth.

“I am just as much a son of Ragnar as you are.”

“I am not so sure. As far as I remember, Ragnar did not play the oud…”

Bjorn interrupted them, trying to make it stop.

“This has nothing to do with you!” Ivar’s tone was one of those, when he was about to completely lose his mind.

“That is not going to end well,” you said to yourself, preparing to climb.

“I guess it must be hard for you now that your mommy is dead, knowing she is the only one who ever loved you,” Sigurd said and, as he said it, you reached at the table.

It was no secret that Aslaug was a sensible matter to Ivar.

“Ivar,” you called him, but his movements were too fast. And you were too late.

When you were right in the line of his sight, his axe was already leaving his hand, aiming at Sigurd. But who could know that you would’ve stayed right in front of Sigurd, just seconds before the axe would hit him?

At first you felt the biggest pressure on your chest, followed by an excruciating pain. Then it was hard to breath and you felt yourself trembling. You couldn’t stop looking at Ivar.

“Stop,” you said too late. It felt like your entire body was late. You extended your arm in Ivar’s direction.

He was in shock. What had he done? When he saw you extending your arm to him he left the chair, crawling to you as you fell.

“Oh by the Gods, what have you done? What have I done? Why didn’t you stay where you were?” His voice was trembling, his eyes already soaked. His hands were caressing your loose hair and your cheeks.

“Because…” It felt impossible to talk. “Because you could not live…” You sighed. “You could not live with Sigurd’s death at your hands…”

“No, you silly woman,” he sniffed. “I could not live with your death. I cannot live without you, Y/N. I can’t,” his tears dropped at your cheeks.

“I… I did not know you would…”

“Me neither. I… I lost my shit, I am so sorry, Y/N. And once again you had to pay for it,” more tears fell.

“I only wanted…”

“To stop the argument, I know my dear, I know,” he touched your forehead with his. “I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you, and not for a second I stopped. I am so sorry, I am so sorry I could only say it now, and not sooner. What kind of a man am I?”

“You are… Ivar… the Boneless…” You made the greatest of the efforts to raise your hand and touch his lips. “I…”

“What?” He said desperate, looking for the words on your face.

“I lo…”

“Y/N? Oh no, no Y/N, just stay with me, stay with me, Y/N!”

“I love you too… my Ivar,” you shut your eyes; you couldn’t take it anymore.

Ivar couldn’t stop shouting your name, and eventually he screamed to the sky, a roar that could’ve reached Valhalla, so everyone in the whole nine worlds would know about your tragedy.

You felt your strength leaving you, your life vanishing. It was calm.

Everyone was looking astonished at Ivar and you. If it wasn’t for you, Ivar would’ve killed Sigurd. He fell on the chair, not believing for a moment how his fate changed in a matter of short seconds.

“No…” It was all what Hvitserk could manage.

Ivar again roared at the sky, and this time thunders answered him, as if Thor was hitting his Mjolnir, letting everyone know about what just happened. The sky became darker and darker until the rain came, washing your blood from the wood while Ivar stayed by your side, holding your hands.

“There it is,” said Halfdan lowly.

“What?” Asked Harald.

“Ivar the Boneless. The favourite of the Gods.”

Taglist:  @mblaqgi @akamaiden @dangerousvikings @oddsnendsfanfics @deepdarkred @irishhiggins @tinypuppysoul @kingbouji3 @i-war-s-boner @capitanostella @loothbrok @noaor @thehuntress26 @sassymcgonagal1651 @hoodirwin5 @attorneyl @collecting-stories @certainobservationwasteland @dreams-in-different-colours @3x5gurl @readsalot73 @action-adventure-and-cheesecake @titty-teetee @cutiedaij @austenkingmylady @ivarthesweetheart @golden-pickaxe @lokis-sunflower-anna @bill-istvan @cynthianokamaria @slut4hazeleyes @chinduda @hallowed-heathen @cherryblossombaby69 @paintballkid711 @bisexual-dane  @youbloodymadgenius @fuckthatfeeling @crackhead1-800

[thousandsunnywrites]

Mister Sun

⤷ ficlet

part 1 |  part 2

Ace x f!reader; romantic

⤷ synopsis: The only way to calm yourself down was by listening to Mister Sun by Barney. Sounds cute right? Don’t be a clown. This is a n g s t.

⤷ word count: 1,6k

⤷ a/n: aHHHHH heres my comeback from my hiatus 😎hope y’all liked it, i was writing when it was 4 AM and i downtripped to lots of sad songs, remembering how good and youthful life was before I became a boring old hag. das all folks, lemme know what u think as always! (((also im trying this new format just for ficlets/og works teehee)))

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“Oh mister sun, sun, mister golden sun,” Ace cooed as his rough fingers gently combed through your hair, “please shine down on me.” You shift on his lap, clearly still startled from the nightmare, but unwinding as he continues his humming while swaying lightly. 

He was so warm against the cold night.

“You feeling better?” His head lulled a bit to the side, his loud yawn permeating the night air. Guilt bloomed in your chest for waking him up in these delicate hours, but you couldn’t help but need comfort. Your late mother always sang Barney’s song to calm you when you were younger, so naturally it was the only way to unravel your nerves, despite it being a child’s song.

“Thanks for doing this, I know it’s not really your style.” You briefly apologized. He waved it off. 

“No biggie, anything for my girl.” He grinned, his toothy smile shining against the moonlit sea. Your giggle follows right after, his smiles always made you feel like everything was gonna be okay. 

“Love you babe,” you dreamily sigh, still high off broken sleep. 

“I know.”

You nestled your head on the meatiest part of his thigh, and fell asleep. When silence pervaded the air, he pulled you tight to him and closed his eyes. The tranquility of the night made you follow suit a bit after.

All things continued well, you went fishing with Ace the next morning, catching a bigger fish than him and bragging about it to Marco. 

“Cheater!” Ace kept chanting as he demanded a rematch. “You just got lucky, lemme show you how it’s really done.” Grumbling, you acquiesced to his ramblings and hooked on bait.

“Ho,ho. You’re going down, lover boy.” You bore your sole into the wood of the deck, readying yourself for battle. 

“Ready!” He counted down, “Set! Go!”

Fishing lines cast into the sea, a brief moment passing by before a fish tugs on your line first. Messily reeling it in, your feet trip over themselves, cursing as the rod slipped through your sweaty grip. Meanwhile, Ace grunted as he fought against his big catch before victoriously reeling it in. As much as you hate admitting it, you lost.

“Yeah!!” Ace rejoiced, admiring his fish, “we’re eating good tonight boys! Fire up the grills!” The resounding cheers of the crew followed after.

Moments like these, seeing everyone, especially Marco, merrily hammered with booze and seeing Ace mingling with the crowd, occasionally falling asleep, yet his smile never fading. It was moments like these that you wished never left because eventually everything becomes a distant memory.

As a little girl, you believed nightmares disappear after mom sings you to sleep. As an adult, you realized nightmares are never really gone; instead it slowly builds itself in a steady, continuous stream until it becomes real.

It became hell.

The marines took Ace. 

Whitebeard rampaged.

And one thing leads to the other, you find yourself alongside his little brother on the battlefield. Ace looked disparaged sitting atop of the execution platform, protected by the best of the best.

“Ace!” With a determined look raging through his pupils, he grit his teeth and dug his fingernails through the log he was carrying, “We’ll save you! Y/n and I, we’ll save you!” His promise rang throughout the battlefield, commencing the beginning of the end.

The battle ensues, one thing leads to another and Ace is free, running towards freedom. 

Until Akainu provokes him.

“Ha, the loser from the dead generation finally met his time.” The magma man inched closer as the flames flickered off of Ace’s body, angry.

“Take that back.” Ace growled, his white-knuckled fist engulfed in his flames. 

Akainu snickered. “In other words, he’s an eternal loser who will never surpass Roger. Making all his underlings call him ‘old man’ and ‘father’ or whatever.... he got stabbed because his stupid ‘sons’ believed every word he said.”

“The old man gave us a place where we belong,” Ace lunged forward, fist in front, swallowed with rage, “don’t make fun of the old man who saved my life!”

He dodged gracefully, turning on his heel to jab Ace in the rib. They exchange punches, the belligerent admiral having the upper hand due to Ace’s lagging and recklessness. Akainu’s eyes shifted from the fire fist to the strawhat. 

Perfect, he thought, time to end this.

He leaped in the air towards Luffy, the magma on his fist leaving a trail behind him and a smile as wide as ever. He won.

His fist never connected with the strawhat. 

It bore a hole through Ace instead.

Even better.

Overwhelming dread filled the battlefield, especially in Luffy’s unwavering faith, because holy shit you’re not supposed to see right through him. “Ace!” Marco called from the other side, soaring to his side while everyone froze in fear as they watched the events unfold. Whitebeard can only watch in lament, knowing that he did all that he could and it still wasn’t enough. Luffy promised to save him, but why does it feel like he’s the one Ace saved? 

He was there, within your reach. Why couldn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you do anything?

How could you let him die? Out of all the things you could’ve done for him, you cried.

Pathetic. 

He was right there.

You rushed into the rumbling battleground, skidding against the concrete to plant yourself next to him. Luffy’s head whipped to you, holding Ace in his shaking arms. “Y-y/n,” Luffy trembled, and the look in his eyes said it all. He’s dying.

Ace exchanged a few incoherent words with Luffy, so melancholic that he went into shock, mouth agape as his eyes rolled back into his skull.

Swapping places with Luffy, you held Ace’s head on your lap. “Hey, don’t cry,” he brushed the hair clinging to your wet face, “don’t make that face. Doesn’t look like you.” He joked as you pulled him closer to your chest with your foreheads touching and hands shaking as it was on either side of his cheeks, screaming in frustration as tears stained the ground and shamelessly dripped over his face. The warm air contrasted with the coldness of Ace’s body.

“You’re gonna be fine,” your eyes scanned for a doctor, “you’re gonna live, you’ll be fine!” You called out to the nearest medic, asking them to save him. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s already too late, not much to do!”

“Bullshit! You’re a fucking doctor right? What kind of a doctor can’t even save a man dying in front of him?” 

Scared, the poor doctor frantically skirted away, while Ace stared into your orbs, admiring them one last time. “No need to be upset,” he nuzzled his cheek against your thigh, “he can’t save me. Nobody can. My insides are fried.”

“Don’t talk like that!” If he wasn’t injured, you would’ve slapped the living shit out of him. “You’re not dying. I refuse. Get up.” 

“It’s no use.”

You heave up his weight, slinging his arm over your shoulder, only to come crashing back down. The others watched in pity because all you can do was repeatedly punch the ground in dismay like a child throwing a tantrum.

“You can make it!”

“Y/n.” 

“Luffy promised we’d save you and I intend to keep my word.”

“Y/n.”

While watching you trying to save him in vain, unconscious tears wet his cheeks as he bit his lip. It broke his soul to know that he has to leave you like this and there’s nothing he can do to help you. He wants to live. For you. But he knows better than to dream, especially in the condition he’s in. He haphazardly tapped your face with the fading strength he had. 

“Y/n, calm down. I’ll be fine. Please don’t cry. Listen to me, yeah?” 

You nodded, knowing it was a lie, but acquiescing to hear your lover. 

“God, I’m so tired Y/n.” He took a shallow breath before continuing, “I wanna sleep but I don’t wanna go.” I don’t want to leave you alone, hangs on his lips.

This was the end of the line. You knew it was. His stagnant breaths told you so.

All of your movements stop, frustration replaced with empty acceptance. Ace can’t remember you like this, you thought, it’d only be harder for him. “Go ahead,” you manage to show him a forced smile, contrasting against your red nose and puffy eyes, telling him it’s okay. It’s okay to go. He was not nearly convinced, but it was getting harder to fight the sleep overwhelming his crisp body.

“Go sleep,” you encouraged once more, “I’ll be here for you, waiting for you.” You choked on the words as his smile relaxed, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Love you, y/n.”

“I know.”

“Thank you for loving me.”

Clenching your fists, you bit the insides of your cheeks, hoping to drown out the deafening world. Everyone was screaming, but your heart screamed louder. Don’t go, your heart pleaded, I need you. Please don’t leave me. 

But you knew better, Ace would’ve wanted to know that you’d be okay without him. You had to be strong. For him.

This is all that I can do for him.

Before all life left his body, you sang to him one last time, hoping it would provide him as much comfort as it did for you.

“Oh mister sun, sun, mister golden sun. Please shine down on me.” 

The wind gushed by, taking his last breath with it. The end of the beginning was concluding, clearing a new path for a new era in its place. The war raged, filled with metal clashing and the wailing of crestfallen loved ones. 

His vivre card burned, crumbling into thin air, as if it never existed.

Please wake me up from this nightmare.

[axwalker]

The Trade 10

Synopsis:  Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But what happens when she falls for his best friend? (AU)

Pairings: DrakexMC

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. In this chapter there is mention of rape, if you get triggered by this issue, don’t hesitate to send me a message and I’ll be glad to explain what happens without reading it. A lot of angst and heartbreak

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback.  Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien JR).

To catch up: Masterlist

To my beautiful, incredible beta readers @drxkewalker @pedudley thanks for helping me with your ideas and support and reading so many snippets! Your comments always make me smile !!    @mskaneko Thank you so much for this new mood-board, I LOVE it, it’s just perfect 

Love you girls ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

I'm tagging those who asked, if you want to be added to the list, just ask :)

 @drxkewalker @pedudley @pug-bitch @burnsoslow @lauzales​ @desiree---1986​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @yukinagato2012​ @kingliam2019​ @ibldw-main​ @desiree---1986​ @debramcg1106​ @mskaneko​ @msjr0119​

After confronting her father, Alexis felt exhausted. Years of fighting him had taken a toll on her. The loss of the only man she had ever loved was the last straw in a series of tragedies that her own father had provoked, and she felt like she didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore

The worst part was to think about Drake, about his pain, the disappointment in his voice, the hateful look on his eyes. Alexis had done everything she could so he would hate her, but now that it was done, she didn’t know how she was going to actually live with it. She hated herself much more than he would never do.

Alexis heard the knocks at her door, and tried to ignore them; too tired and too sad to answer, but the tapping persisted. Finally, she went to open it, decided to chase away whoever it was.

“Max.” She sighed. “I can’t talk to anyone right now, I’m sorry.” She made an attempt to close the door, but Maxwell put his foot between it and the frame. His heart tugged seeing how destroyed she seemed, how swollen and red her eyes were.

“I’m sorry Blossom, but I really don’t think you should be alone right now. Plus, I brought my three best friends.” He grinned showing her a whiskey bottle and a plastic bag with two pints of ice cream. “Jack, Ben, and Jerry.” She smiled through her tears. “Please, Lexie, we can talk or get wasted or eat ice cream or all three, I can show you my own version of a Coke float.” He winked.

She let him in. “I really need a drink right now.”

They sat on the balcony eating ice cream and drinking silently for a while, each of them thinking about their broken heart.

“I really loved him, you know?” Max broke the silence. “I’ve had intense relationships before, but Rashad was the first one I truly loved. The worst part is that I’m pretty sure, he loved me too. And he’s ready to let all those feelings go to waste for some stupid political ambitions.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t do the same Blossom, don’t let your desire of being the First Lady stop you from loving Drake. I’ve known him since we were kids and I’ve never seen him more desperate or broken than today. He really cares for you.”

Alexis turned her head to him, anger stirring through her entire body. “My desire of being First Lady?” She laughed bitterly. “Please, Maxwell! You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She gulped her whiskey, refilled her glass, and gulped its content again.

“You’re right Lexie, I have absolutely no idea what’s going on.” He took her hand. “And for the little I heard, neither does Drake. Perhaps if you actually talked to one of us, we could understand you better.”

Maybe it was all the alcohol she had ingested but suddenly she found herself opening up to him. “I did a horrible thing in my youth, something Drake would never be able to forgive me for.” She sighed sadly. “Because of that mistake I have to protect someone and my father is taking advantage of it. If I don’t do what he says, the person I care about the most in the world will get hurt.” She gulped yet another glass and quickly refilled it again.

Max couldn’t believe his ears “Wait a minute Blossom.” He lifted his hands. “Are you being this cryptic on purpose? I don’t understand anything. What do you mean your father is taking advantage of it? I mean he’s your father, Lexie. And I can assure you there’s not much Drake wouldn’t forgive you”

“Well, this is one of those few things, Max. He hates me now, but even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to forgive this. And yes, George is my father. He’s also the most despicable man on earth. And I assure you, his threats are not empty. He wants control of Cordonia’s commerce, and nothing will stop him until he gets what he wants.”

Maxwell was starting to understand. “So he wants you to marry Liam, the next president, to help him.”

She nodded without adding anything else.

Max stood up. “I understand better why you insisted that you liked Liam when it was so obvious you were falling for Drake, and why you left him like that.” He turned around to see her crying. “Oh Blossom, you should talk to them, I promise they would try to help you, both of them.”

She looked at him terrified “No, Max! Promise you won’t tell them anything. Either of them. Please, you don’t know how much there’s on stake here. If something happens to my- ... I can’t even consider it.”

Maxwell sighed, visibly uncomfortable “Ok, Lexie. I won’t. I think it’s a horrible idea, but I won’t say anything.”

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Drake woke up feeling like crap. After getting wasted at the bar, one equally drunk Leo had taken him to his cabin, where he had slept uneasily, seeing her face every time he closed his eyes.

When he had set the meeting with Liam, Drake had planned to be honest with his best friend and tell him that he had fallen for Alexis too.  It was the first time in his life that Drake felt that kind of wild passion; of deep connection with someone, so he was determined to fight for her. But now, all the consequences of his carelessness were about to crush him. Drake had to face the fact that the sweet, passionate woman he had seen in her, simply didn’t exist. The fact that he had betrayed his best friend for someone who didn’t love him back. The fact that deep down he had always known that she was too good for someone like him, someone his own mother had abandoned. Alexis had been born to shine in Liam’s arm, to be his wife and rule beside him.

When he finally arrived at the Beaumont’s estate, Drake had made up his mind; the best thing was to let her go. Let her be happy with Liam and try to move on, even if he had no idea how he was going to be able to do that.

At Ramsford, he went directly to the brothers’ study, where he knew Liam would be working already, and entered it without knocking.

Drake immediately saw in Liam’s demeanor that that morning he wouldn’t be facing his best friend, the brother he had grown up with but the politician, the future president of the country. He wasn’t intimidated. 

“Sit, Drake, please.” Liam was comfortably seated with his elbows resting on the desk, the tips of his fingers touching. “Could you tell me where have you been these past two days? Where did you take Alexis?”

Drake looked straight at him, he wasn’t going to lie. “To my cabin near Portavira.”

Liam looked back at him coldly. “Could I ask why?”

“She had a panic attack two nights ago and needed to go away, so I took her to the only place I could think of,” Drake replied calmly, staring back at his friend.

“Was Max with you?” Liam was getting angrier at the second, the tension between the two almost brothers growing.

Drake growled. “Fuck Liam! Is this an interrogatory?” Liam seemed imperturbable, so Drake answered the question. “No, he wasn’t.”

Liam's posture remained calm, without showing all the rage he was feeling. Before asking the next question, he hesitated, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. “Did something happen between you? Did you two…” Liam swallowed, unable to complete the sentence.

Drake had never felt so guilty and stupid at the same time. “Listen, Liam, the only thing that should matter now is that she cares for you.” 

-He is not denying it- Liam thought furious.

Drake felt a, now familiar, pang in his chest. “Alexis told me she cares for you before she left with Max.” He stood up to pour himself a drink from the minibar and gulped it down.

Liam remained seated looking at the man that had been his best friend for over twenty years. He felt betrayed by him, but seeing how rattled Drake seemed, a hideous thought started creeping his mind.

“Drake,” he stood up to pour himself a scotch too, “are you in love with Alexis?”

Drake arched his brows, mockingly. “You know me better than that Li, I don’t do love. I don’t absolutely feel anything for her, but she does for you, end of the story.”

Liam thought about what he was about to say. “Alexis and I are not really together yet. However, I’m planning to talk to her today. If she accepts to be with me, I don’t want you near her.”

Drake sighed. “Li-“

Liam raised his hand interrupting him. “I don’t think you’re understanding me, Drake. I won’t care about our friendship the same way you didn’t care about it these past two days. If I see you near her, I will end you.”

Drake shook his head and spoke with a deep voice, anger in his tone.  “No, Liam, is you who doesn’t get it. I don’t care about her at all. Do whatever you fucking want.”

“It’s settled then. If she wants to, she belongs with me.” He patted Drake’s back and sat again. “Let’s forget about this and keep working on the campaign”

Drake nodded, he was going to need another whiskey.

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Alexis woke up next to Maxwell, both of them had passed out together on the balcony after the third bottle.

She looked at the time on her phone.

“Shit! I have to meet Li in thirty minutes for lunch.” She saw Maxwell looking intently at the estate’s parking. “What is it Max?”

“I don’t want to worry you Blossom, but Drake’s jeep is here.” The mere mention of his name made Alexis’s heart skip a beat but she tried to hide it.

“Well, he’s Liam’s future Chief of Staff, I imagine they have a lot of work to do. I’m sorry to chase you Max but I have to take a quick shower and prepare myself to my-” She took a deep breath, “date with Liam.”

Maxwell took her by the shoulders, “I remember what you told me last night Lexie, and I still think you should talk to both of them, or at least with Drake.”

She shook her head. “That’s never going to happen. Now if you don’t mind, I really need to take a shower.”

Thirty minutes later, Alexis was ready to go have lunch. She felt a hole in her stomach thinking that she had to feign interest in Liam, hurting him make her feel sick. At 1 p.m. sharp, the young candidate knocked at her door.

“Hi, Liam! What are you hiding there?”

He grinned giving her a beautiful bouquet of pink roses.

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” She gave him a small smile and put the roses on a vase next to her bed.

“Are you ready, Alexis?”

“I am, where are you taking me?”

He smiled fondly at her. “I prepared a little something here with Bertrand’s help.” He offered her his arm, she sighed deeply to calm her nerves and took it.    

They walked around the gardens until they finally reached a little gazebo. Bertrand and his staff had prepared a beautiful table with colorful orchids, elegant porcelain china, and crystal champagne glasses.

“Wow, this is beautiful!” Alexis felt relieved that they were hidden in the center of the gardens where they didn’t risk running into him.

“It’s all for you Alexis, you deserve the most gorgeous things in the world.” He pulled a chair so she could sit and made a gesture to call the waiter behind her.

After pouring them a couple of mimosas the waiter went looking for the appetizers giving them some minutes alone.

Alexis was feeling uneasy, so she drank her glass in almost one gulp.

“Are you alright Alexis?” He touched her hand across the table and stroked it softly.

His touch wasn’t electric as Drake’s but comforting, almost soothing, something she desperately needed.

“I’m fine Li, thank you.” Alexis gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was going to have to improve her acting skills.

“I hope you like this, there’s not a lot of good restaurants around the Beaumont’s state.”

“I think all this is lovely Li, I really do.”

The waiter came back with the appetizers and placed them in front of them.

“It smells great.” Alexis felt sick with pretending, but she forced herself to eat something.

Liam raised his glass. “What shall we toast to?”

She raised her glass as well. “To this date?”

“Perfect, for it to go great.” They clinked their glasses.

Alexis took a small bite of the salmon’s mousse in front of her. “It’s delicious”

“I’m glad you like it, you said that you liked everything, so I chose this  It’s one of my favorites”

He reached to take her hand between his again. “I would really like to get to know you better Alexis. Really know you.”

She sighed thinking about the conversations she had had with Drake just 24 hours ago. About all the things they had shared, all the confidences and secrets. Feeling her eyes watering, she took a sip from her drink. “I’m here, Li. Ask anything you want.”

He looked straight at her eyes. “Why did you leave the party at Lythikos two days ago?”

She shook her head, unwilling to share her secret with him. “I had a difficult moment with my father, our relationship is … complicated.”

“And for that, you needed to leave two days?” Liam asked, arching his brows.

“Yes,” Alexis stated simply.

He rubbed her face with his hand. “If there’s something I can help you with, just tell me Alexis, and I will.”

“Thank you, Liam. Everything is fine.” She smiled. “This is excellent too.” Avid to change the subject, she pointed at the main course the waiter had just brought them.

“Ah! Carbonara pasta, it was my mother’s favorites. She used to cook it all the time, so it became my favorite as well.”

She reached to stroke his arm across the table. “How old were you when she…?”

“Nine, it was very hard. After her death, my father married Regina, and she is not the warmest woman in the world.”

Her heart tugged at his sadness. “I’m sorry, Li. You must have a lot of good memories of her.”

“I do. She loved to sing and play the guitar. She used to take me, Leo and Drake to these picnics and played with us. She was a great mother, I’m sad you could not meet her, she would have loved you”

-No, she would have hated me- “I’m sure I would have loved her as well”.

They spent the next hour talking about happy memories of their childhoods. Alexis was happy to hear all about Liam’s and Drake’s pranks when they were little boys. Finally, they finished their dessert.  

Liam looked tenderly at her for a long moment before he spoke. “Alexis, I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I want you to know that I am serious about this, about us. I’m a man who knows what he wants, and I want you. Desperately. You are the most beautiful, charming, fascinating woman, I have ever met and I want you in my life.”

This was it. Her future, her fate had finally caught up with her. Trying to put all memories of Drake out of her mind she smiled weakly at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Me too, Li.” He took her chin between his fingers and softly kissed her.

After a few seconds, they parted and Liam cleared his throat before speaking. “I just want to clarify something. Everything that has happened before today does not matter because we were not officially together. However, as I told you before, I am very serious about you. If you accept to be with me, nothing like that can happen again. The next time that you have a problem, you come to me and no one else.”

She didn’t know how much he knew about the two days she had spent with Drake but judging by his words much more than she thought.

“I understand, Li.” She tried to ignore her heart aching. “From now on, it’s only you and me. You don’t have to worry.”

He stood up giving her his hand so she could stand in front of him, he caressed her cheek with his thumb and kissed her passionately.

Alexis was feeling a mix of guilt and despair, it didn’t matter how much she tried, her heart, mind, and body belonged to Drake now, and she was going to condemn Liam and herself to a loveless life. She knew Liam wasn’t completely certain about her, that he was going to need some reassurance from her part.

“I trust you, love.” Liam looked at her lovingly. “In fact, I was thinking that I could introduce you as my fiancée tonight.” Alexis inhaled a deep breath, he stroke her arm gently. “I know that it’s a little early for that and that I haven’t officially proposed but I cannot think of a better way to introduce you tonight.” He leaned to kiss her. “With my choice of career, it’s where we are headed anyway. You know that darling, right?”

She nodded, trying to pass her sorrow for emotion at his words.

“Yes, of course.”

“You’re making me the happiest man in the world.” He took her hands and pressed them against his lips.

“I’m happy too, Li. Let’s go back to the state, I need to prepare for the Beaumont Bash tonight.”

He gave her his arm again and they walked back to the mansion unaware of the pair of chocolate eyes watching them from the East balcony.

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Thirty minutes before the gala Olivia knocked at Drake’s door.

When he opened it the first thing she noticed was the strong smell. The whiskey odor came as much from him as from the room itself.

“What the fuck, Drake? We have to be at the bash in 30 minutes, we’re supposed to look impeccable and you look like a Whiskey barrel just rolled over you.”

“Leave me alone Nevrakis, I’m in no mood for the gala.”

“You do not have a choice, Walker. So, go hop into the shower while I look for a proper suit. That is if I can find one that’s not stinking of whiskey. NOW”

After the shower, he came back into the room and found a blue suit on the bed. He got dressed and joined Olivia who was waiting outside.

“Care to tell me what was that pathetic pity party about?”

Drake kept on walking. “None of your business”

“Come on, Walker we are usually honest with each other, so cut the crap.”

Drake didn’t respond. His mind was full of images of Liam kissing Alexis, taking her by the arm, acting like she was his. He felt a sudden urge for whiskey that only deepened when they arrived at the gala. There they were, together. She looked stunning in a golden lamé dress and he looked like a Prince in a black tuxedo, the perfect picture of success.

Occupied with her own jealousy, Olivia took a moment to notice the change in Drake’s attitude. Drake’s fist clenched at both sides of his body and his usual sarcastic smirk had transformed into a rageful scowl addressed at his best friend. Luckily, Liam was too busy greeting his guests and holding the American woman to notice.

“Drake, for the last time. What the hell is going on?” She followed his gaze and suddenly, realization washed over her. “Oh fuck! You like that woman! That’s why you disappeared for two days at the same time as her. My staff told me that they saw you coming out of my cellar with some girl, it was her. Liam’s girl.”

He turned at her furious. “She wasn’t with Liam then.”

“Well, she sure is now” Olivia and Drake witnessed how Liam placed a kiss on Alexis' cheek and whispered something in her ear. Olivia took Drake’s arm reassuringly and walked towards the new couple.

“Come on, we are obliged to greet them. We’ll do it fast and then we’ll get wasted at the bar. Both of us”

Alexis felt his piercing chocolate eyes on her before turning her head.  Her breath hitched, her hands started to shake, and her heartbeat increased considerably, threatening to throw her heart out of her chest. She inhaled, trying her best to hide the anxiety. Liam must have seen Drake too because he immediately tightened his grip on her waist possessively.  

“Welcome to the gala, Olivia” She offered Liam her hand and he kissed it before adding coldly, “Drake.” He looked directly into Drake’s eyes. “You both know Alexis, my fiancée.”

Drake could physically feel his heart shattering at Liam’s words, but he did his best to show them a cool, aloof façade.

“I’m very happy for you both.” He addressed himself to Liam first and then added looking at Alexis, “you make a beautiful couple.” Drake took her hand as Liam had done with Olivia’s. Without taking his eyes off of hers, he turned it, brushing a small kiss on the sensitive skin in the back of her wrist. Her fragrance immediately flooded into his nostrils, intoxicating him. A furious blush colored her cheeks, and her eyes were actively avoiding his.  Alexis prayed that Liam hadn’t noticed, but he had turned his head to talk to Olivia.

“Well, we have more guests to greet, see you both at dinner.” Liam turned to Penelope and Hana who were entering the ballroom.

“Come on Walker” Olivia patted his back.“Let’s get wasted”

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Maxwell was at the door looking over the last details of the party when he witnessed the exchange between Alexis, Liam, and Drake and felt deeply sad for all of them. Maxwell didn’t fully understand Alexis’ reasons, but she had seemed so scared at the idea of anyone finding out about her father’s threat that he had made an impossible promise. However, seeing his two best friends treating each other as enemies and Alexis so utterly devastated made him make a new decision. He was going to have to break his promise.

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Liam and Alexis had the first dance of the night as it was the tradition for the honor guests at the Beaumont Gala. He was an amazing dancer and swirled her around with ease and confidence, holding her tightly against him. She tried to remain calm as long as she could but seeing Drake had deeply shaken her. She couldn’t avoid feeling insanely jealous when she saw him arrive with Olivia. Without even noticing it, her eyes looked for him all across the ballroom until she felt his gaze from the bar. Alexis locked eyes with him over Liam’s shoulder. Drake was clutching his glass, his knuckles almost white as he watched them together. His eyes didn’t leave her for one second, but she wasn’t sure what was on them, finally, he broke their eye contact, drank his glass, and left.

Drake watched Liam and Alexis slide along the room together, unable to detach his eyes off of them, feeling like a blade slowly pierced him, every time Liam whispered something on her ear or pulled her closer to his chest. Only one day before, she was completely his and now she was dancing in another man’s arms like their story hadn’t even happened. He dreaded the mixture of things dwelling in the pitch of his stomach, the intense hatred mixed with his feelings for her, stronger than ever.  As he watched her move, he realized that her eyes were looking for someone across the ballroom, and then they stopped when they locked with his own gaze. Rage flooded through his veins. How dare she taunt him like that? He didn’t know what game she was playing at, but he wasn’t going to stay to find out. He gulped what was left of his whiskey and left the room before the song was finished.

When the song was finally over, she excused herself with Liam and decided to leave the party for a few minutes. She saw a door open in the hallway and entered the room to calm down before coming back to the gala.

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Tariq watched Alexis and Liam greet their closer guests. He hadn’t forgotten about how Alexis had humiliated him at that bar a month before.

“Hi T!” Tariq turned to the beautiful woman next to him. “Do you know her?” She cocked her head towards Alexis.

Tariq arched his brows “I met that whore in a bar, she behaved like she was above me before leaving with Drake Walker, and here she’s a month later parading in Liam Rhys’ arm like she’s a fucking virgin”

A smile formed on her lips, this was going to be much easier than she thought. “You know, I might have a little idea of how you can teach her what a real man is, T.”

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Alexis entered the study so fast she didn’t realize that Drake was already there leaning his back against the wall drinking a glass of whiskey. Her heart stopped, she turned around as fast as she could to leave the room when she heard his voice.

“Are you following me, O’Brien?”

“No, I’m sorry I- I didn’t see you come in here” her soft voice made him even angrier.

He placed the glass on the desk and moved in front of the door to prevent her from leaving the room.

She took a sharp breath “Let.Me.Pass”

As much as he hated her, he wanted to be as close to her as he could. It was driving him mad.

She inhaled sharply “What do you want Drake?”

Drake took two steps in her direction making her walk backward until her back was against the wall, he placed his hand against it, trapping her, his left arm on one side of her, the wall on the other.

“What do I want?” he scoffed “What do I want?” He leaned towards her. Her heart started racing furiously, being this close to him made her feel drunk.

He looked at her intently “I want you fucking out of my head. I want you to tell me what sick game you’re playing at, because I saw you looking for me while you were dancing with your fiancé.” His face was only a few inches from her, his raspy voice in her ear had the immediate effect of goosebumps emerging all along her arms. He noticed them so he stroke one arm gently, locking his gaze on her. “I want to know why you’re trying to drive me insane.” He got closer to her, smelling her neck, almost kissing it “I can feel the effect I have on you, O’Brien.” Her breath hitched when he took her chin between his fingers “And you know what? Twenty-four hours ago, I would’ve killed for you” He got even closer to her mouth “I want you to know that I would’ve done anything to make you happy” Her smell was making him lose all self-control, he finally crashed his mouth with hers kissing her hungrily, Alexis responded to the kiss even more desperately, tugging his hair between her fingers. He stopped furiously with himself for giving in to her, so he grabbed her hands “but now? Now, I despise you, and I want you out of my life, that’s what I want.”

The contempt and hurt on his eyes were too much for her to bear. She freed herself from his grip and pushed him away. “Don’t worry, Drake. You got it. Now let me pass.”

He raised his hands mockingly taking a step backward so she could pass. “By all means, Ms. Rhys”

She left the room shutting the door angrily after her.

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He was waiting for her at their usual meeting point.

“I talked to Tariq, he was easier to convince than I thought, he will make it look like she wanted it, don’t worry”

“Are you sure? It has to be credible”

“Don’t worry, he understands. I also have a photographer in the right position. Soon, all Cordonia’s news will be talking about the new future first lady and what a whore she is, Liam will be humiliated.”

He smirked before kissing her. “That’s perfect”

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Maxwell saw Drake walking furiously towards his room

“Drake!” Maxwell ran behind him “Fuck, Drake! Stop! I need to tell you something important!”

He stopped. “What do you want Beaumont? I'm really not in the mood for your nonsense right now.”

“I know, it’s about Lexie.”

Just hearing her name hurt. “I’m not interested.”

“But, Dr-“

“Are you deaf Beaumont?? I’M.NOT.FUCKING.INTERESTED.”

Maxwell had spent his childhood being friends with Drake and his frequent outbursts; he wasn’t going to be impressed easily.

“She needs you!” He yelled back “She’s scared and desperate and needs you.”

He stopped dead in his tracks at Maxwell’s words and turned around slowly.

“What do you mean scared? Of what?”

“I don’t know. She wasn’t very expli-”

Drake sighed, annoyed “She’s messing with your head, Beaumont. It’s what she does best”

“Argh! Would you shut the fuck up and listen for one second?” He yelled.

Drake arched his brows, he wasn’t used to seeing that side of Maxwell.

“She told me that her father is threatening with… something… and because of a mistake that she made when she was younger, she has to do what he says. That’s why she’s with Liam. Believe me, Drake, I spent last night comforting her, she’s incredibly sad and desperate.”

Drake scoffed but a small part of him wondered, her father was certainly capable of doing something like that, and it would definitely explain a lot of what had happened between them.

Maxwell watched his best friend debate with himself.

“Look, she didn’t even want me to tell you, hell she begged me not to. But she was terrified, I swear Drake. Please talk to her”

Drake knew right then that he didn’t have a choice. Not really. If she was feeling scared ... terrified, he had to be there for her, he had to help her.

“I’ll talk to her Max”

Max grinned relieved. “Now?”

Drake ran a hand through his hair. “Not now, we just  fought and I’m still very drunk from the party, but tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I will make sure she’s fine.”

“Ok, buddy.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “I’ll go to sleep now and…” He patted Max on his back. “Thank you Max, you’re a good friend.”

Tariq watched from the corner he was hiding, how Drake and Maxwell say good night to each other before taking the left corridor to their rooms. When they were out of sight, he took the right side of the hall where he was told Alexis’ quarters were. He put his hand on his pocket to make sure the key to her room was still there when he felt it, he grinned to himself thinking about her all alone in her room. His night was definitely going to be unforgettable.

[rebornghostgirl]

💢💢💢💢💢!!!!!!!

Contained censored cursing. Zom!Athena Au is used. Zom!Athena is close to irl me... So i will be reacting to how I normally would and say... I say lots of bad words... Sailors seem like angels compared to me... Also bugsnaxs spoilers. Itll make sense when you read...

Zom!Athena was usually mild mannered and kind. She can usually take a lot and when provoked usually only results in a smart mouth. But not today...

It involved a failed peer review from a team of scientists rejecting her latest scientific discovery: the ecology of Never Fairies. Claiming that magical creatures "are not real".

"BULL****!" She yelled while sitting on the couch. Avery Richman leaned over right beside her.

He sighed. "Got rejected? Why would they reject that?"

"I... I... F***!" She boomed as she threw the papers across the room. It hit the wall and tumbled down unceremoniously taking down a vacation photo with it.

"F***! F***! F***! F***! F*********!" She grinded her teeth and punched her legs.

Avery hugged her not knowing what else to do. The awkward silence coupled with the fuming fat living dead girl made him just confused.

"I exist... You exist... F***ing Mickey Mouse exists!" She hissed, her southern accent coming out.

"You met my Dad, Redleaf! You took pictures with him. A tiny fairy in your hands. What more proof do they f***in' want?! Are you s***ing me?! Really, Mother f***ers'?! Are you f***in' s***in' me?!" She broke free from his embrace and angrily picked up the papers and replaced the photo back up.

She mockingly read it out loud. "Despite how well written it is, we cannot accept facts about fantastical creatures at this time. And your title of a supernatural biologist is simply made up. We recommend you put your talents into the science fiction genre."

Avery winced over the last line. "You may want to speak to a higher up about that. They may just have a hard time accepting fictional characters becoming real."

"They accepted bugsnaxs like no f***ing problem. And bugsnaxs are parasitic f***ing gremlins not beneficial helpers like never fairies. No classification, no on bothered to make a phylogenetic tree for them. Nor figure out their real origins beyond what we know. They just gave cute widdle names... F*** outta here, man."

Avery picked up his car keys and his coat as she kept fussing.

"No speciation, no word on reproduction, no evolutionary history, nothing! Just f*** all nothing! Just.. "This is a strabby!" AND?! THE F*** DOES IT DO?! And don't get me started on the Island of Chew-and-swallow!"

Avery gently held her hand and pulled her away. "Let's get some food. You haven't eaten today. How about we grab some hibachi and have a picnic, eh?"

She sighed and took a deep breath. "Aight... Ok! Let's go."

It was a lovely day to go to the park. The sun was shining, big fluffy white clouds making shapes as far as the imagination could muster, the sky was beautiful blue, bright vivid flowers, and soft grass made the scene. The couple decided to eat near a river next to a playground where kids happily screamed their heads off having fun!

Apparently, another team of scientists and their rich donors also thought it was a nice place to eat today. A young hotshot strolled over to the couple smirking.

Both Athena and Avery's eyes began to narrow.

"Hello, Dr. Richman..." He said mockingly.

Athena growled. "I am Dr. Fallington! Avery did not work for this degree, I did... I am to be called as such."

"Oh Im soooo sorry. Nice to know that the disaster of a paper you wrote was completely your own doing..."

Avery chimed in. "Young man, You better show some respect..."

"Or what, Boomer... Gonna bore me to death about trains?"

"Boomer?!" Avery gasped. "I'm not that old..." He muttered.

Athena got in front of the hotshot's face. "Listen here, you little s***... I'm five seconds away from going complete apes*** on your a** if you don't quit it. You and I both know that as more as fiction merges with reality, supernatural biology will become more and more important. So... Kindly take five steps back, turn around, and f*** off!"

She sat back down and shoved some chicken and broccoli in her mouth.

"Well..." The hotshot said. "Still... Good luck on finding anymore grants for your fanfictions. But judging on your chubby chasing sugar daddy, maybe if sell your body he'll shell out enough for you..."

In five seconds flat a 298 pound girl was on top beating the everliving s*** out this fool.

"WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" was her war cry as she tackled him to the ground. The kids stop playing and began cheering for her.

"すごいです!"

"Awesome!"

The other scientists rushing over. And Avery trying to peel her off.

"Try me again, b****! I bet you think that you can insult me! And how that s*** is cute. I'll shove your head up your a** for you! I'm sick of you b****! I'm f***ing sick of you!" She shrieked as she punched him.

Avery finally managing to wrap his arms under her shoulders and hoist her off. "Snap out of it!"

The hotshot now dishelved mess coughed.

"This is why you zombies need to go back to where you belong, in the dirt... Take your ancient husband with you."

At that remark Avery let her go. "Nevermind... Have at him..."

Everyone else did nothing as she once again released her fox frenzy of fury upon him.

When Athena was tired. She and Avery bailed the scene before the police arrived with the kids running back to play.

Athena slammer the car door shut. "Let's get the f*** outta here... I... I think I'm good for now..."

[sarah--goff]

T.D.M Chapter 16: Lenore

Jareth never seemed to learn his lesson whenever he visited the Above.

It was evident from the greying clouds and the tell-tale uprising wind that he should turn back, turn back before it was too late but he just couldn’t bear to face another evening with those insipid creatures as his only company. He shuddered. No, he would stay out tonight.

But where to, where to? The delightful question.

"Take me anywhere” he murmured to the wind, transforming into his owl form and spread his wings, riding the wind was always fun and unpredictable. Who knows the adventures he’d have this time.

He flew for a while, a long while, scanning the land below, unsure where the wind was leading him, he had found nothing that was drawing his attention.  

When he began to cross over rolling fields he was rather disappointed. Where were all the cities and busy people?

“Drat” he mumbled, the wind setting him down at last.

He folded his wings under him again, transforming back into his natural form . Well this was hardly the adventure he was hoping for.  

No, no it would not do at all.

He couldn’t be sure where exactly in the above he was, it mostly looked all the same to him.

Jareth guessed it was late summer by the lingering sun but it night time was soon to come about.

He sighed, picking himself up and spread his arms to take flight , the wind picked him up, rather forcefully and flung him upwards. Not good.

He should leave, now. Staying in the Above for those who belonged Underground had drastic consequences, like the Underground had for mortals, but he shook it off, he wouldn’t have a wasted journey.

The wind blew under him and when Jareth spotted a horizon of bright lights and tall buildings his heart leapt. Ah finally, now he was getting somewhere. He tilted himself right, to survey it, but the wind carried him in the opposite direction forcefully pushing him away.

Augh! he thought irritably.

The wind dropped him without warning. Luckily his quick reflexes allowed him to switch back and land on his feet brushing himself off.

Jareth began to feel extremely tired. A wasted journey after all.

He had meant to change into his owl form, but the weary magic had instead made him the black bird. A raven.

He could scarcely keep atop of the wind,  “what’s gotten into you!”.

Every now and then it would cut out and then start up suddenly making him queasy.

Jareth had to close his eyes for a second but misjudged and  crashing into a tree that winded him completely and knocked him out.

He was out for a while when he stirred groggily he didn’t know where he was again. He must have spelled himself out of the tree in his panic. A storm was brewing.

Lightening struck the sky.

He had to rest he had to keep out of the storm. Luckily for him he was in a populated area.

Jareth landed on the roof tops of  houses, looking for shelter in them but he could not access any, they were closed up, the curtains drawn all the lights were out, all but one opposite him.

The window was wide open , even in this pelting rain he could see right into the room . The warm of candle- light evading from it invited him in greatly, he was frozen to the bone, he needed to rest greatly before his magic short circuited and god knows what would happen.

The Goblin King hoped down as best he could with his throbbing side, managing to keep his footing even on the slippery tiles. He fluttered momentarily towards the house opposite the window within his reach.

Just as he was about to land on the tree branch that was directly outside the open window, he saw a figure’s hand reach out for the windows latch and firmly close it right before him!

No no ! He thought painstakingly as his side burned. He didn’t have much longer , he could feel himself slipping away. Jareth clumsily perched on the tree branch, through his drooping eyes he could see the candle light was still burning.

The figure must still be close by, the Goblin King found himself softly pecking at the glass of the window, just enough to get their attention. Nothing happened and Jareth used everything he could to tap louder. Nothing.

He tried again then gave up, legs giving out under him,  slouching against the window hopeless when the it was creaked open a splinter and then thrown open by the wind.

Jareth’s limp body tumbled through the window and crashed harshly onto the ledge face down.

The wind died down enough for him to catch a gasp above him .

The Goblin King dare not move, fearing he had simultaneously switched back into his male body, which mortals never had a good reaction to.

From his titled his head up enough to see a mortal girl standing above him. He guessed by her uncertain look and concern he was not his natural self and was still in his wretched form, soaking from the downpour. He groaned inwardly. This could go two ways. Neither were particularly good.

Jareth’s chest heaved up and down heavily, wincing at the intake of breath. He tried to still to avoid provoking the burning pain throughout his entire body.

He heard the window close again, muffling the raging tempest. The candle’s light had since died. Jareth depended on the moon glow to show him the girl’s lovely concerned face as she hovered over him , unsure what to do. He was slipping further, faster, downwards, his eyes were drooping as he stared back at her, she couldn’t help him.

If he was going to die here, at least it was under such a beautiful view, such a benevolent creature then he had no complaints.

He closed his eyes. The end he thought, embracing it when suddenly Jareth felt two warm hands slip under his abdomen, his limp body caressed and opened them again. The mortal wrapped a blanket of some sort around him, warming him greatly. He felt instantly better, like her very touch had restarted his heart,

“Come on, bud” she murmured to him, her light voice inviting him to stir. The pull was releasing him slightly now.

Her hands under him banished the ebbing pain, he could move his wings a little now, feeling more vigorous.

The mortal placed him down gently with the blanket over him . She was retreating.

No! Don’t leave already! he thought panic-stricken already shivering again. He was relived the watch her only cross the room to her drawers where she pulled out long drapes of woolly material, shifting them on her desk to make a circular shape.

He could vaguely make out the room , he must be in a child’s bedroom by the looks of it and he inwardly sighed. Great. She didn’t look like a child, even from his small height Jareth could see she was taller than that .

It was only when she came back for him again, holding him close to her chest that he could see in the weak light the mortal had made him a nest. Oh no.

She was lowering him towards it, away from her warmth and breath. Jareth began to twist in her hands avoiding the blasted mockery for a bed.

“Absolutely not!” he cried in protest, but the words hadn’t left his beak he could only move it up and down to form them “do you think this is a joke? I can’t feel my blasted face!”

“Calm down- it’s just for a second!” the girl told him aiming to sooth him over before placing the Goblin king in the centre of the makeshift nest.  Jareth scowled at her.

“Would you rather be out there?” the mortal girl challenged him, scowling back.

He bit back a scoff -not that he could in this form but even so- how dare she talk down to him

On the other hand, her hands on hips, taunting eyes staring him down, her soft mouth, he couldn’t find himself disgusted but rather amused at her tempestuousness, no-nonsense attitude.

The branch smacked the window causing him to glance away from her briefly when he looked back she looked smug she had won the argument.

“Well this is as good as it gets... Back in a sec” the mortal held up her finger to the him moving to the door. “Don’t move” she commanded steeling her eyes on him.

The girl left shaking her head, presumably to find him some half-hearted excuse for food no doubt. He took this opportunity to transform back.

Jareth rose from sitting cross legged on her clothing/makeshift bed, knocking a few things over. He cracked his stiff back with a low groan but before he could take another step he was turned back, back into this humiliating, wretched bird form.

Jareth growled in frustration, it wasn’t even his favourite, his beloved benevolent snow -white owl , instead the beautiful mortal got to see him as this simpering black bird.

It worried him though, he’d never been in the Above for this long. If he couldn’t change back into his natural form, he would be stuck like this forever, at the mercy and reliance on a young mortal girl for the rest of his raven life.

His sensitive ears picked up a crash downstairs and for a moment he thought about checking on the girl until he could hear the retrieving footsteps getting closer. He quickly re-seated himself. Blast it! It looked like he would have to put up with this appearance.

“sorry about that” She re-entered the room holding something in her hands.

She sat cross legged on her own bed, the thing creaking underneath her . Could be worse, he supposed, her own bed didn’t look anymore inviting than his ‘nest’. The mortal was pouring some of the contents in the dish.

The Goblin King craned his neck to see what it was he would have to force down his throat. He needed the strength, desperately. Beggars and choosers and all that.

She smiled satisfied, “here you go” setting the dish down in front of him.

He peaked over the rim. Ugh it was a mixture of seeds and berries. That would never give him any lasting boost.

“This isn’t the Ritz you know. No worms here” she threatened which only alight his impatience further.

Jareth gagged in his mouth “Worms! I should throw you in the Bog you silly creature for denigrating the king”

It was better than nothing but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of winning him over twice and stiffly turned his nose up.

What a night this was turning into.

The human was looking away from him at the clock on the wall with a groan. He noticed the time likewise

He’d been in the Aboveground for several hours now. But there was nothing he could do until he was healed.  How long could that take? Eons if she keeps feeding me this pitiful meal.

The girl’s face softened at the sight of him, making his harshness waver for a second under her curious stare.

What are you thinking?

His heart was thudding harder as she reached out to touch him again. Jareth invited it, stilling so she could trace her soft fingers against his wings and torso. He shivered at the touch. She was smiling down at him, marvelling at him.

Jareth couldn’t resist shifting a bit under her appreciative stare. If she thought him pleasant to look upon as a dumb bird, what would she think of him as a man? He was almost tempted to find out had he been able to switch back at that very moment.

Unable to control himself he found himself bowing his head just to feel those fingers brush the crown of it. Bowing! To a mere mortal! He drank up the touch shamelessly and let out a little strangled gasp when she took him surprisingly in her arms, nest and all, to sit him in her lap.

Well now this was far more like it! He smirked wishing on every star in existence he could transform imagining the surprise on her face! The thought of her reaction made him smirk. He was well aware of the effects he had on women, particularly mortal women.

As he began to calm the wind died, a good sign that things would improve.

Jareth even nuzzled against her palm. Sleep was biting at him, calling for him, he could do so right there and then, it was the magic draining quickly, usually he could go without sleep for a day of two.

The Goblin King had never been held in such a manner he felt utterly safe in this mortal’s arms as if she could fend off any danger herself even if she was powerless and possibly trying to kill him off with the food. What the sodding hell am I even doing?

The Goblin King felt his heart wrench painfully within his chest. Not now , not now! He breathed in a short, ragged inhalation-  woozy with the overwhelming confusing emotions and the loss of magic that seeing the girl in such a state caused to churn violently within him. He could feel himself unbalancing this was not good.

Her hand met his head, simmering his overbearing panic attack bit by bit. That’s it, that’s it he cheered with relief. The air in him could flow freely now..

As if careful not to wake him, the girl shifted the nest with him inside to her nightstand. Jareth opened an eye groggily to see the mortal removing her clothing. Jareth’s eyebrows raised, he saw no reason for shame or guilt, as he looked at her with unabashed longing. Perhaps not a girl after all. What a creature, beautiful on the inside as well as out.

As if she could hear his thoughts you turned over her shoulder to him, “naughty bird” she tsked before slipping on a faded nightdress and into bed, beside him on the nightstand.

“Goodnight bird, whoever you are”

Oh if only you knew! he thought wickedly.

No more than five minutes had passed when he could hear her shallowing breathing, totally succumbed to sleep.

Jareth hopped from the scarves back over to the desk to the meagre meal you had set out before him.

He ate begrudgingly, these berries are sure to be unwashed, I’ll catch my death. Jareth the noble Goblin King, defeated by a mortal girl’s berry.

He chewed slowly. Actually…it was alright. Instead of sour, it was sweet as was the seeds. These were not natural made clearly. He gobbled it down then realised now that the hunger was fed, that was his lot for the night. He felt stronger now.

Jareth hopped onto the wooden flooring. Come on, come on he willed himself. But he wouldn’t change. Oh well.

He made his way to the vanity, even managing a flap of the wing with the help of the food. The Goblin King sighed, suddenly unable to rest. The girl were far gone into sleep now, nobody to amuse him.

He watched from behind her chest rise and fall before turning his eyes to the mortal’s full chamber. What a dismal place. He could see that even in the lack of light .

Jareth gazed at himself in the mirror with a smirk. Even in the bird form, he was a handsome devil, the poor mortal never stood a chance. His interest was sidetracked by small photograph by his head, black and white of a smiling couple, a man and a woman, arms looped around another , strangers to him, but the held some meaning to her clearly.

Jareth saw the girl’s open sketchbook, drawings of  birds. He was impressed, he squinted closer at them. They were magnificent, as real and detailed as he was. So the mortal is quite the artist.

She was becoming more curious now, what was her name? Jareth searched for something as a give-away on the desk but there was nothing in view. He’d find it out later he surmised.

The girl let out a small whimper then “no, please don’t leave!”

Jareth was frozen to the spot. Was she talking to him? When nothing more happened he fluttered from the desk to nest again to observe her.

She had her hand balled up tightly, distress across her face but her eyes were closed.

She was having a nightmare about someone or something.

His heart strings tugged a little and he softened. An idea suddenly popped into his head. Would it work?

He sat in the nest concentrating with his eyes closed. Come on…

The Goblin King felt a wave wash over him, when he opened his eyes he was in total darkness, the girl lying in the middle, still asleep. Good. He was in her mind.

Jareth looked down at himself, turning his hands over, relieved to be freed from his small feathery appearance -even if it wasn’t real.

He waved a hand, brightening the scene, he concentrated on the appearance, weaving the room into a magnificent ballroom of ice-white. He changed his outfit too, to his favoured long blue coat, blonde hair free and loose.

Jareth heard a shifting behind him. The bed was now gone.

“Excuse me” said the voice, it must be the girl, he turned to greet her with a smile but then found himself pulled from the dream sharply and opened his eyes again to be back in the mortal’s bedroom.

Drat ! He’d been close, the low magic must have worn off quickly.

The girl momentarily awoke too crying “Oh!” softly, even peering around her darkened bedroom but fell back against the pillows, asleep once more.

Hmmf.

It was no good. He needed time to heal for sure now, harnessing dreams should have been easy, if he couldn’t do that -he was in trouble.

Rest called to him. If he wanted to make it back eventually he’d have to preserve himself.

The Goblin King stuck a leg in the nest gingerly and then another and positioned himself this way and that in an attempt to get comfortable, pah! before giving into sleep.

_*_

The Goblin King woke , cursing the sun “close those drapes!” he hissed, faced down in the warmth of the bed, to the goblins that served him.

When the sun was still on his face he propped himself up ready to spell any goblin in front of him to the Bog, when he remembered where he was. Oh no… the tell-tale black feathers that he shifted brought last night flooding back.

He turned his eyes down to land them on the mortal’s sleeping form. Ah, more was coming back to him.

He remembered the way she’d held him and shivered.

Upon this thought the girl suddenly turned over with a groggy smile , catching his staring.

“Good morning, bird” the girl said through a yawn, hand under her head watching Jareth sleepily. Good morning indeed.

No longer able to settle into sleep, he watched her stretch, swinging her legs over the bed to sit at her vanity desk. He observed curiously as she plucked the small photograph of the mystery couple and kiss it. Interesting…

When she began to shift her nightdress upwards, Jareth- being the gentleman he was of course- swiftly turned his eyes away this time, protecting her dignity whilst she dressed. He heard her give a small, satisfied ‘hmmm’ , peering down at the empty dish smugly.

‘Don’t pride yourself you little minx, I was practically starving’ he mentally replied but he would have smiled if he could.

She finished dressing and he felt his stomach rumble at the sight of her re-filling the dish. Oh thank heavens. But then hurriedly made her way to the door.

Jareth was more than a bit shook at the immediate sense of overwhelming loss he felt upon seeing her back turned in retreat. No, please don’t go… Jareth found himself pleading, the girl smiled at him pityingly and a little guilty “Be back around 3, okay” the mortal promised, closing the door behind her.

He heard the front door slam too, hopping quickly to the window to see her walking down the street, rucksack over her shoulder and turn at the corner out of sight.

He sighed now what? The clock on the wall read 9:30, 3 o’clock was a long time away. He’d have to entertain himself he supposed.

Jareth ate the sweet seeds and berries, slower this time, building up the magic inside. He wouldn’t throw it away so carelessly again. He saved some for later.

In the daylight the room still managed to look wretched. He didn’t know how mortals lived like this. It could do with sprucing up. The wood underneath was causing him to lose all sensation in his backside.

Jareth made his way to the vanity again and then strolled across the carpet to perch on the think bookshelf. He cocked his head to read some of the fading titles. Grim’s fairty-tales, Alice In Wonderland, The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe.

So the mortal likes a good old fashioned fantasy stories Jareth smirked.

Though perhaps by the look of them they were not necessarily newly acquired. Quite tattered in places.

Jareth scanned some more then nearly had a heart attack bumping into a round box. The lid of the box opened slowly and began to play tinkling music. No no! He flapped about trying to shut the lid but the bloody thing wouldn’t budge, someone was bound to be alerted. It was only when he lept on the lid it closed. The music died off.

_*_

The door closed, bringing the house alive again . Jareth read the clock, it was not yet 3 o’clock but perhaps you had come a tad early. His heart leapt. His sensitive ears could pick up humming, a female voice for sure, but not yours.

The footsteps came closer and Jareth glamoured himself invisible, not all humans were keen on the idea of birds roaming their houses.

He sat on your bed plainly, awaiting to see his uninvited guest.

A woman marched through the door casting her eye around the room. She closed the window muttering something under her breath. The blonde woman hummed again, tutting at the array of colourful scarves made into his nest. She retrieved them, folding them up

Hmmm you shouldn’t be here he thought slyly at the woman’s creeping, the way she went through the girl’s possessions, turning over the ordered objects, opening and closing drawers. Who was this? Even though he was given no insight to her sneakings or her identity, her very presence irked him, the slyness of her actions. He should know, he was a master in that art.

The Goblin King could hear the muffled shout of the girl’s entry.

“Hello?” the woman didn’t seem to notice even when her footsteps where approaching.

Ah you were home.

He watched you burst in, startling the older woman who jumped to immediately plummeted into telling you off he noticed your eyes skip around the room, looking for me?

The woman continued to shout and you didn’t look the least bit fazed which clearly irritated her more, oh you wind-up .

She said something again and was given a tight smile promising to do the dishes for the insufferable woman, like you were some scullery maid pah ! Not in the least!

Jareth heard you call for him but didn’t appear until you sounded as if you had given up. He glamoured himself to the beside table, your facing lighting up when your eyes landed on him

“Clever bird”

The mortal immediately soothed her hand over him, explaining her absence not that he could concentrate with the way her fingers moved up and down his feathers. You were so careful, like he was a prized possession.

“My name is Sloane- Sloane Hazel -in case you were wondering” he caught that.

So that is her name.

She held out your hand as if for him to take . Had he been a man he would have and kissed it grandly but he could only twitch his head in acknowledgement.

Sloane Hazel. What an unusual name, fit for an unusual mortal that he had taken a shine to. ‘The little raider’. A raider indeed.

“It was my parents’ name. I guess I should probably call you something over than ‘bird’ ”. The mortal-Sloane-left his side to clear the mess that awful woman had caused.

“That woman you just saw snooping around was my aunt. My uncle isn’t home yet. My parents are dead -so I live here. With them”.

The mortal held out the photograph to him, “that’s them. It’s okay, I got eight golden years with them, that’s more than some” you tipped up a smile, clearly trying to hide the underlying pain.

The absent parents. He felt sorry for her, doomed to live with such an awful woman, the man he had not met yet though he guessed he wasn’t exactly dazzle and shine himself.

She began to talk about herself, making up his bed again which he graciously seated himself in, feeling exhausted from the use of glamour as her soft voice played on his weariness like plucking the soft strings of an instrument. He closed his eyes willing her to speak on.

She was in front of him, giggling which startled him ‘oh yes laugh at my stupid form go on’ but he wasn’t really mad. Jareth was looking at the soft pucker of her lips as she spoke “I’m going to call you, ‘Never’. Like ‘Nevermore’, right?”

“Not that I’d expect you to understand, but it’s from a poem this guy wrote about a bird like you. He was a bit mad, but then maybe I am too talking to you”

He supressed a groan Nevermore! ’Very funny’ but this interested him so she is well read too…

“Nevermore... Ooh what about More, like as in ‘Moore’, that’s a real name at least. It kind of suits you”.

“My name is Jareth and I am the Goblin King”  he wanted to say right then

“Moore it is”.

Fantastic . But he was in no place to argue

“Sloane! Why can I still see dishes?” Kari called from the bottom of the stairs. “what did I say about shoes in the house!” she sounded irritated. The mortal rolled her eyes at Jareth with a giggle.

…

It was a few days later, when the girl had tended to his every need since his arrival, showered him in adoration, he discovered he could change back to his natural form unexpectedly.

Jareth stared down at his hand, confused how he could suddenly open his palm, a pink crystal bursting from it, when a week ago he was at death’s door. It was incredible. He was getting better.

He gave an ecstatic laugh, throwing back his head. Jareth the insipid raven no longer! But…now what? Would he just leave? Like the girl wasn’t a part of his life now?

The Goblin King hesitated looked around the girl’s bedroom, the place he had called home for the time, to rest his head, his sanctuary, would he just turn his back and leave?

Of course you fool, one part of him sneered, but then the other part thought about the delight on her face when she would race home to tell him about her day, sometimes she would rehearse her lines to him and act out a few parts, to which he applauded -of course mentally- , hold him close at night, murmur him the things she couldn’t say to another. If only he could show her his real self. Well he could now...

He would give her a gift. He crushed his hands together, closing his eyes to concentrate until the bangle he’d imagined formed in his hand.

“Hey, Moore, look what I found!”

Jareth stepped out from his hiding “hello, my dear” he greeted in his honey smooth voice but forgot he was the raven again, the blasted “caaar” that came from his beak instead, grating on his ears.

“did you just make a noise?!” Your eyes light up “Where did you come from anyway?” .

Jareth climbed on your arm, holding the bracelet proudly in his beak, hoping you would take the bloody heavy thing before he dropped it altogether.  “What’s this? Can I see?”.

Sloane held it curiously for a second, admiringly even, before placing it in the nest.

Jareth bit back a growl at her obliviousness before shoving it out of the nest towards her again, hoping she would put two and two together.

The girl stared at him confused, placing it at the very end of the desk so that he had to traispe all the way there just to push it in her direction again

‘she’ll be the bloody death of me’  he thought, wheezing at his damned weakness.

“Wait” she said “is this, for me?”

Jareth let out a sigh of relief “a round of applause for Ms. Hazel!” he said sarcastically but instead again “caaar!”

She slipped it on her wrist, fitting her perfectly.

Without warning she swept Jareth up cradling him “I love it” she said to him, right in his ear that gave him goosebumps, feeling along his soft wings with the tips of her fingers, then his neck, it was enough to drive anyone mad, mortal or not.

The spell was broken when that irritating voice of her aunts called her away forcing her to leave him alone once more. No!

The door shut behind her and Jareth turned back letting out a sigh. He ran his hand across his jaw where her fingers had just been a moment ago…

He swirled his hand for a crystal , gazing in it to see where she’d gone.

“Actually, Sloane, I was wondering if you would stay home this time, you know I don’t like the house left empty…Brian and I haven’t had much time together recently. He’s been very stressed at work”

Interesting… A wave of fury swept over him, upon seeing Sloane’s hopeful face crumple with bitter disappointment. She was being let down in someway. That godforsaken woman! If he had been the one on the receiving end of that beguiling look of hers, he could have denied her nothing.

He could have denied her… nothing…

He whipped the crystal away at the spark of an idea, that solved his nagging problem.

If he couldn’t leave Sloane to rot in this awful place…Then he’d take her with him. To the Underground.

His heart leapt -why hadn’t he thought of this before!

You know why.

Jareth switched back upon hearing her ascending pounding footsteps. The door banged open, startling even him. Wrath.

Sloane threw herself on her bed, face down. She didn’t make a sound for a minute, he’d even thought she’d fallen asleep until he heard the tell-tale gasp of a sob being released. Then another and another. She was crying. Jareth’s heart broke for her. The Goblin king nudged her arm, “look upon me, my sweet”.

“Caaar”

Sloane sniffed, then sniffed again. He saw her angelic, tear-stained face, lift from the bed with a wobbling smile “iss ssnot fair, Moore”, she said hiccuping, “It’s like they dow-don’t even want to be seen with me! Imagine! Their o-own nuh-niece!”.

Sloane composed herself sluggishly, touching his bent head.

“Sometimes I think it’s easier to talk to you than to some of the people I know. Like you’re my oldest friend or something. Funny, huh? You’re lucky though, you have wings, when you’re better you can go anywhere. Where am I going? I’m going to be stuck forever. In this dismal town…” she trailed off.

It was ironically amusing. A week ago, he hadn’t realised he had neglected to possess much of a heart at all and now here he was, giving everything to her. It …was a strange realisation, to want to protect and care solely for someone other than himself. He recognised the feeling well.

Oh no this won’t do at all…He smirked, mentally at least. In a way it was a bit exhilarating, a bit juvenile but the Goblin King was fond of games.

“Sometimes I wish somebody would take me away” she murmured darkly, flickering her gaze to look directly into Jareth’s eyes “know what I mean?”.

Everything was falling into place, he could see it. He would gladly whisk her away to his land, where he would then gift her all of her dreams and cater to her every whim, where would dare to turn her away, least of all him. If she were so terribly unwanted by everyone in her life, he would be more than to relieve them of her.

She fell asleep shortly after that.

Jareth knew he had to play this whole matter very carefully and not spring too much on the girl just yet.

Blast it was freezing in here!

Sensing she was truly succumbed he quietly transformed for a moment.

He cast her a fond smile as he crossed to the window; latching it and drawing the curtains across to relieve them both of an early awakening from the sun.

He could feel his magic wearing off already, “Sleep well, sweet,” Jareth whispered, as he came to stand by Sloane’s bed, above her, he drew the blanket over her, fighting the urge to bend down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead to let her know she  was safe now, in good hands, that from here on, somebody was looking out for her.

“ For I have an idea” he murmured finishing off his thoughts before switching back under the light of the moon.

…

Jareth practiced his magic every day, showering Sloane with a treasury of jewels he’d made himself ,fit for a queen. He was definitely getting stronger.

He found he could enter her dreams fully now, he could hold her and dance with her. What joys they were even if they weren’t real. Then she’d wake up and the spell would be broken. She’d only remember fragments but they were etched in her mind somewhere. The mortals often had trouble recalling their encounters with magic, but they never left them behind. She was happy. He was glad.

One night he returned to the castle momentarily. Jareth had been hoping the underground had not fallen to pieces in his long absence and was grateful that for once everything seemed to be in order. He sunk into the armchair by the fire in his own chamber with a grateful sigh. It definitely beats a wooden nightstand.

Jareth got to work immediately. He knew exactly what had to be done.

He’d attached a tag to the book “Read me”

He’d also signed the front page in his own swirling cursive writing “For Sloane”.

Jareth leant over to place the book on her bed and entered her dream.

One day, when Jareth watched her leave as she normally did every morning from sitting on her window ledge. He was tossing a pink crystal and catching it again and again when curiosity got the better of him. He followed her journey from the house, grateful to finally feel the wind under his wings. He was careful to hide , flying above her undetected.

He waited patiently all day for Sloane, sometimes peering through windows to observe her quietly in classes until he was shooed away .

Jareth was beginning to grow tired of the lack of closeness until spotted her and another friend approaching the outdoors. His heart leapt.

They were chatting idly about something or another, every now and the Sloane said something highly amusing which made the friend burst out laughing, clutching Sloane’s arm.

He felt a stab of jealousy towards the friend, solely based on the simple fact that she was able to get so close to Sloane and have a real conversation with her, unlike his reduced state.

“Guilt tripping me to share my homework that’s new” he heard her chide and the pair laughed.

“Life saver” the friend leant in to embrace Sloane.

The same stab of jealousy struck Jareth, he involuntarily glared, the emotion so strong he accidently transformed at the exact moment the friend’s eyes fell in his direction, on him.

Uh oh.

It was too late- he’d been seen judging by the way the friend’s eyes widened at him. Sloane, however had ducked under the table and missed the whole thing.

He could hear her say something muffled and once again locked eyes on the friend who was gawping at him wordlessly. With a smirk, Jareth put his finger to his lips and disappeared from view.

He watched in his raven form from the tree nearby as the friend struggled to contain what she’d just seen , he saw the friend try and explain but by the looks of it , Sloane was hardly phased. Probably just as well.

Jareth deciding he’d seen enough for today took off to head back. He was beginning to grow tired again.

The warm of the scarf nest was calling to him , though most nights Jareth instead snuck out of the nest and hopped to Sloane’s bed to lie still against her and her own bodily warmth and subtly moved back before she woke.

When he fluttered through Sloane’s open window a warm, sharp sensation passed over him.

The sensation was so strong it knocked him into his natural form and made him double over. Jareth fell to his knees, clutching his stomach.

“Augh!” He’d never felt anything like this before. It didn’t last long, it was almost pleasant but it was strange. He could hear raised voices downstairs, by the sounds of it, the girl was in trouble for some reason or another. Again. It sounded like tonight she’d really be in for it, something special was going on apparently.

“-hould be here by now!” cried a shrill voice and Jareth groaned clutching his forehead. One thing he wasn’t going to miss when they finally left.

He picked himself up to sit on the corner of the single bed, it creaked violently. Some nights when Sloane rolled over the noise of the bed often stirred him awake irritably.

The door downstairs creaked, Sloane was home. Thank god.  Jareth listened in trying to decipher what was happening.

He waited to change back into the bloody bird form now that he was no doubt shot of magic juice by now but nothing happened.

In fact, he felt fine.

He stalked over to the vanity mirror , inspecting his eyes and then stuck out his tongue to inspect that. Everything was normal . He was healed.

He recognised her footsteps coming closer. Jareth lent casually against the desk, observing a car drive away down the street. He smiled ruefully.

“Moore?”

Jareth disappeared.