#I couldn't have gotten as far as I have without his help and his patience. sitting next to me for hours trying to help me on jobs

[chqnified]

Forget loosing friends or breakups. Ever lost a colleague?

[animeyanderelover]

Anon: Could I request Yandere Sebastian Michaelis, Ciel Phantomhive, Alois Trancy, Claude Faustus and Ash Landers with a reader who's a young widow/widower who refuses to entertain any thoughts of having another romantic relationship with someone out of a desire to spend the rest of their life as their late spouse's wife/husband.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, delusional thoughts, paranoia, manipulation, blackmailing, gaslighting, threats, arranged marriage, abduction

My one and only partner

Ciel Phantomhive

☕ It's such a tragic event, isn't it? Losing the spouse you adored and loved so much. Yes, life can certainly be cruel. The young Earl gives you his condolences, although more out of an act of formal courtesy than genuine compassion and sympathy for your loss. Your spouse has been an unpleasant thorn in his eye for a while now and if it wouldn't have been for their sudden death, he would have ended up manipulating and sabotaging the relationship himself. With them out of the picture without his doing though, Ciel sees a chance. Your talk about never wanting another relationship again is initially not something he takes serious. You're hurt and shocked, you'll get eventually over it. In the meantime Ciel plays the role of the supporting and kind friend who helps you and overlooks how you're doing. If you're struggling in life due to the loss of your lover, he'll financially support you.

☕ The Earl of Phantomhive stays patient with you for a couple of months where he subtly brings up the idea of you marrying again in some discussions he has with you yet you never hesitate in your answer that you'll never take another spouse. Slowly you wear his patience down though as the seasons pass by and your way of thinking doesn't change. Ciel eventually has to acknowledge that you might just be more serious with your decision than he initially anticipated and your sheer dedication to your late spouse elicits a spark of annoyed envy out of him. It's disrespectful to think in such a condescending way of your dead spouse but Ciel just can't see why you'd love them so much and deny yourself the chance to marry a more suitable person. The more suitable person of course being him. Nothing is fully confirmed just yet though so Ciel continues for now with what he's been doing so far, feigning to be your concerned friend whilst subtly courting you.

☕ As another couple of months pass by and you still don't change your mind, Ciel has to resort to more manipulation and sabotage. A pity, he was hoping to win your heart the more gentlemanly way. He decides to break off the engagement with Lizzy sooner than initially planned and paints himself to be quite shaken by those events. He does it in a way that doesn't damage his relationship with the Midford family though as they're important allies to him. He hopes to gain your sympathy by acting like it hits him harder than anticipated. Additionally he forces you into situations where you have to rely on him more in attempts to earn your gratitude and trust. Those are ways to blackmail you without you really knowing as he still hopes that you'll stop your childish behavior by pushing you. If none of those work though, he sees himself forced to arrange an engagement between you two. It would truly be a pity though if you'd leave him no other choice but to reveal his cold and possessive persone though, wouldn't you agree?

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛ Sebastian puts his best act out to appear compassionate over your loss but his black heart couldn't care less in reality. Instead the early death of your spouse is merely a problem less for him as they dared to touch and take something that belongs to the demon and the demon alone only. He would have gotten rid of them himself but life was this time faster than him apparently. Despite his clear apathy, he still feigns concern and sympathy to gain your trust and even your reliance as Sebastian can't help but see the current situation you're in as a good opportunity to claim your heart which was meant to belong to him in the first place. Emotionally you're very vulnerable right now after all and even if he isn't thrilled by the fact that you waste so much thoughts and tears on this good-for-nothing spouse of yours, it's an ideal chance to grow closer to you and show you that you have a far better option right in front of you. Him.

🐈‍⬛ Sebastian prides himself in showing off his skills and abilities in front of you whilst taking care of you. He helps you in whatever ways he can, always pays you a visit and sees how you're doing. He does some of the chores for you when you're busy and even cooks and bakes for you when he has the time. He's aware of your antics of not wanting to marry ever again but he doesn't take you seriously. No, instead he almost finds your childish determination amusing as he does not believe you to stay true to your decision. Sebastian is far too confident in himself to feel intimidated or insecure. He's swayed many with his looks and his charm. If at all, he views this all as a little challenge. Amuse him a bit if you can, he has all the time in the world. You manage to stay loyal to your decision and the first couple of months, this actually excites the demon. You aren't as easily swayed and he enjoys that you're a harder challenge. That'll make it all the more rewarding when you give in after all.

🐈‍⬛ Apparently the demon has severely underestimated your loyalty and love for your dead spouse as you keep on denying him and his attempts to court you. What was once amusement and fun slowly turns into bitterness and annoyance, black feelings Sebastian has rarely experienced against someone, especially against a dead human. In all possible ways you could compare your deceased spouse to him, Sebastian is better in every way so why would you cling so desperately to someone who is already dead. As a demon, Sebastian will never be able to understand your strong devotion as you're his mate and shouldn't cling to the memories of a dead human. His comments become snarky and passive-aggressive whenever you talk about your dead spouse as he doesn't want to hear you speaking of them in such a wistful manner. You make him slowly lose his patience, an achievement near impossible. He might just come clear with his feelings at one point, giving you the last opportunity to accept him. "No" is not an option for you though.

Alois Trancy

👅 Alois should learn to read the room as he gives his darling an emotional response only a heartless asshole would show. The aristocrat is gleeful with the news of the unexpected death of your spouse. He has despised them with every fibre of his being simply for being married to you and being your spouse by law, a spot that should belong to him. They were in his way and if they wouldn't have died so suddenly, Alois would have ordered their death himself. Their death is in his mind like a sign from above, a sign that should tell you that they weren't meant for you. He has such a hard time hiding his sadistic grin and at least acting like he feels sorry as he just feels giddiness rushing through his blood. Finally! Now he can have you all for himself without their disgusting arse anywhere near you. He might just visit their grave out of pure spite, mocking them and laughing at them. They got what they deserved for taking you.

👅 No sense for boundaries and personal space, Alois just acts like an immature and spoiled brat, which he really just is at the end of the day. He's clingy because now there is no spouse of yours around which disgusts him and tempts him to just strangle them for doing as much as touching you. No, instead he's celebrating your new freedom and that you two can now finally be together as he showers you with presents and invites you multiple times a week over to his mansion. He's giddy, joyful and touchy with you as he doesn't even consider the fact that you want to grieve, don't want to hang around him or even start a relationship with him right away. Instead he instantly assumes that you'll accept him and are even happy that your deceased spouse is now gone. That makes him immensely confused when you stop him and tell him firmly that you have no interest in him or anyone.

👅 He's not believing you or at least doesn't want to believe you. Why are you still hung up on that rat? They were only in the way! He should have been your lawful husband from the very start! The brat in him emerges and starts shouting and crying, blames you for being so stupid to choose the wrong person in the first place when you should have just waited for him to come along. Aloid doesn't want to understand and neither will he ever understand, too gone in his head with his pretty fantasy of you two being meant to be together. So he doesn't take your words seriously, refuses that you mean it. Such devotion should only be for him, you can't possibly really feel so strongly about them...right? He rejects that idea of your heart forever belonging to them violently but he grows undeniably more paranoid with the thought constantly present at the back of his mind. You're the one who has the wrong idea here! Alois genuinely believes that you just need some convincing to see that you were wrong, although that means in normal words an abduction and isolation.

Claude Faustus

🕷️ His facial expression remains cold and apathetic, only the slight hint of a smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips when he hears about the news. What a stroke of luck that is, he doesn't have to bother with this little insect after all. Claude would have a 100% taken care of them himself but that isn't needed because their own stupidity was the death of them. Claude is rather content for the first time in a long while as his mood hasn't been the best ever since he found out that his mate had already been claimed by another human. He hides his smugness about their death in front of you though, sane enough to understand that he'd only earn your ire otherwise. Besides that though, he'll keep his emotionless face though because it is hard faking sympathy and sorrow for someone who has only been a hindrance in his eyes from the very first moment.

🕷️ Claude is merciless as he instantly starts erasing traces of their existence. He tidies your house up to get rid of their stench clinging to every material until his own smell is dominating the house and throws photos and everything else out. The last part he does without your knowledge since you cherish every reminder of your late spouse. It's pathetic and annoying to see you breaking down when you can't find pictures and, worst of all, your own wedding ring anymore. You sob and cry and he can only look at you with cold eyes, doing his best to hide an annoyed sneer. That dead human is barely worth anything besides a mediocre meal in his eyes so why are you so affected? You have him and that's all you'll ever need. Your talk of never wanting another romantic relationship only serves to fuel his annoyance but ultimately he brushes it off as you being dramatically emotional.

🕷️ Claude is rather full of himself after all, is confident that he can charm you and make you forget all about your spouse in no time. His patience is not as good as Sebastian's is though so he grows soon tired of your naive fantasy to live and die as your late spouse's partner. Even the mere mention of their name causes his chest to fill with barely hidden annoyance, his words cold and sharp when he speaks about them. He's just done with you and your stubbornness of clinging to someone who is already buried six feet underneath. He is the one you should choose, not some pathetic and undeserving human. You're his mate after all! His! That's the point where Claude starts using his powers to sabotage you, scare you, torture you mentally a bit to force you into co-dependency. If you still refuse to accept him, deny him what is rightfully his, he'll have no mercy whatsoever. He'll reveal himself to you and will take you for himself just like his instincts demand him to do. Don't worry, you'll forget soon all about your former lover.

Ash Landers

▫️ Ash has been agonizing himself over that spouse of yours since the first day he found you. Marriage is sacred, a bond special yet for you to give your vow to such a vile human. No one is worthy of you in this city, not even in the entire world. It isn't your fault though as Ash believes that it was your spouse who forced you, abused your kindness and love. Oh, he would have loved to remove that stain himself but perhaps this was divine punishment from heaven. It is a heavy weight less on his shoulders for him now that that vermin is gone, although your safety is still plenty enough to give him multiple heart attacks. You're far from safe after all as you still live in a society with rotten individuals, you're the only pure and untainted flower left. So Ash just has to act and so something before they'll devour you, tear you apart.

▫️ In all his paranoia and panic he only notices after the abduction that you're busily grieving over the death of your husband. Personally, he wouldn't even spare them a single thought and they're especially unworthy of your thoughts and feelings. He's sensitive when it involves you so your tears and your sorrow crush his heart as he enters multiple frenzies, blames your deceased spouse. How could anyone dare to sadden you and be the source of your anguish and tears? Ash tries everything to help you with your pain, has multiple meltdowns whenever he catches the sight of your tears or senses the emotional agony you're in. Parts of him die again and again as he already seems to fail in his role as a guardian angel and it eventually reaches the level where he kneels in front of you with tears streaming down his face, begging you to tell him what he should do to ease your pain.

▫️ He finds out from you that you've decided to never have another romantic relationship so that you can spendthe rest of your life as you're spouse's lawful partner. Initially he has no real problems with that. Sure, he still thinks that such vermin is deserving of such sheer dedication and loyalty from you but that just shows why you're such a pure creature in the first place. No one is worthy of you anyways so the concept of you refusing to love anyone else, or let anyone abuse you again as Ash thinks of it, should be reassuring and it is a little bit for a while. At least until Ash discovers that what he thought were sincere intentions to protect you like any guardian angel should have turned into feelings of longing and desire. Emotions he shouldn't feel towards you as not even he sees himself as deserving of your heart. Yet now the knowledge that you won't even consider falling in love again to waste your precious love on your dead spouse pains him only more but he forbids himself to ever let you find out about his feelings, no matter how many times he has to punish himself. Only your love could save him now.

[unreliablesnake]

Hold on tight (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: You keep your end of the deal and return to Paris to visit Vincent.

Note: I'm not happy with this. / previously on... / The title comes from this song. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warnings: smut(ish)

“It's been more than half a year,” Winston noted one night when you couldn't sleep and decided to join him in the bar. “The Marquis is already looking for you.”

“I know.”

He was right. Rumor had been flying around that he was paying some people to come to the Continental just to check on you in these past months. And all along, Winston did his best to shield you, keep you away from having to face the possibility of meeting him again. But lately things had gotten worse, you knew it.

“You know,” you began once you took a sip of your drink, “I thought time and distance would help me. That I would feel better. That I wouldn't feel the need to be near him. But it's not working, I still want him,” you explained sadly.

“Then go and meet him,” he offered the solution as if it was that easy.

Because it wasn't easy. You were fighting your emotions so hard for a long time, but that emptiness from being away from him just kept crawling back. “And if he somehow convinces me to stay with him?” you asked since it was a possibility. You might get weak and stay if he asked.

“Is that what you're afraid of?” Nodding, you leaned back in the chair and crossed your legs. “He's a bad man. We're not saints either, but at least we follow the rules.”

“How is this supposed to help me? I already knew he's a jerk.”

Winston let out a heartfelt laugh. “What if he can change for the better because of you? What if he would change if that was the price of being with you?”

“I'm not so sure about that.”

“I am,” came his reply that took you off guard. You gave him a questioning look then waited for the explanation. “He's been sending you handwritten letters, and tries to call you almost daily… This man is in love, sweetheart. Who knows how far he would be willing to go to get you.”

You shrugged. “Maybe he will kidnap me again.”

“That didn't work out the first time,” Winston pointed out.

“True.”

“Also, he's not known for his patience, yet he's been waiting long months for you to keep your end of the deal.”

He was right again. Vincent was surprisingly patient with you, he didn't start harassing you through his men, instead he kept his distance and kept an eye on you without saying a word. And while you didn't even want to think about it, Winston pointed out this difference.

The man who was so used to getting whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted it was waiting patiently for a woman. He could have gone out to pick up someone else, but no, according to rumors he was waiting for you. It was hard to decide whether it was flattering or terrifying.

Your boss let out a sigh as he glanced down at the notebook on the table in front of him. “You should go to Paris. However long it takes,” he added before you could say you didn't want to be away from this place in case he needed your help.

He didn't even have to look up to know you were about to object. But you kept your mouth shut, and so you ended up buying a ticket and packing your suitcase in the following hours. “I'm an idiot for doing this,” you told yourself as you collected some items from the bathroom.

Thirteen hours later you once again landed in Paris, although this time you were on your own. Or so you thought. At the airport you were greeted by a man Vincent sent there to pick you up and take you to him. You followed him without asking questions, knowing full well it would be futile to resist and insist on traveling on your own to the hotel where you reserved a room for yourself.

Unlike the last time, the mansion didn't look cold and threatening. No, it was warm and welcoming, a place where you could feel safe right away. Safe. With him. You didn't think these two things would ever be connected by the same sentence. While you'd been here the last time, you were always on the edge, feeling like you didn't belong.

But now? Now you had a feeling you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

A staff member came to help you with your luggage, assuring you that they would take it straight to your room, while a woman came to accompany you to the room Vincent was in at the moment. Your eyes scanned the paintings on the walls as you passed by, the familiar sight making you feel at home.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” you suddenly heard the familiar voice say. You looked up and noticed him standing in the hallway, hands folded behind his back as he watched you. He sounded unsure, a quite shocking experience compared to the authoritative Vincent you had met the last time.

You waited until the woman was told to leave and the two of you were left alone before you said anything. “Me too,” you replied quietly. “But someone convinced me to come here and keep my end of the deal.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened and you wondered what made him do it. Was it because you said you were only here because of that deal? It could be the reason.

“I’m glad I’m here,” you added, surprising yourself with this sentence.

Because if you wanted to be honest, you were glad to be in Paris again. To be with him. All those months of thinking about him while your brain tried to warn you forget him had its toll on you. You were tired and doubted your feelings all the time. But now that you were here with him, you began to see clearly.

This man had managed to get under your skin despite being a kidnapper, planting the seeds in your brain that then turned you into this mess eventually. But it worked. You were here, you were yearning for his touch, and you had to fight your instincts to keep your distance for now.

Let's see what he does. You shouldn't throw yourself at him as if he had done nothing wrong. Having a spine is a good thing.

“I got your room ready,” he spoke up again, sounding surprisingly awkward. “I thought you might want to get some rest first. I have a dinner reservation, but if you'd rather stay here, I can have something made for us.”

“We can go out, I guess,” you replied as you nervously swept a strand of hair behind your ear.

Vincent nodded. For a few moments you both stood there in silence, but then he cleared his throat, excused himself, and went back into the room he had previously emerged from. After letting out a long sigh of relief, you headed towards your room, ready to get some well-deserved sleep.

A few hours later you put on a nice dress and did your makeup properly, ready to head out with him for the evening. Because you were sure it wasn't just a dinner he was planning for the two of you. A play? An opera? Maybe a museum? Whatever it would be, you wouldn't object.

As it turned out, you knew him perfectly well, because you were right about his plans. He was hesitant the whole time, as if he wasn't sure how to approach you anymore, but he managed to stay in charge, and that was a good thing.

Because you were too focused on your own needs, on his beautiful green eyes, on his lips, and on his suit. It was just too much to handle, and when you were in the back of the car on the way back to his home, you slowly reached out to take his hand.

He looked surprised, but he wrapped his fingers around your hand, then raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on it. “I really missed you, my love,” he said.

“Don't think that kidnapping me all those months ago is completely forgiven. But in all honesty, I missed you too. I really did,” you added with a smile before resting your head on his shoulder.

In the next two days, Vincent made sure you felt comfortable in his company. He was nice, and sweet, and things eventually got as intimate as they used to be. You found yourself in his bedroom after a wonderful afternoon in the Louvre, your body pressed to the wall as his lips traced your skin.

He explored your body like this was the first time he had seen it without clothes, and he kept you from moving around, pinning you down to make sure you didn't start removing his clothes. No, he wanted to take his time with you, driving you crazy by not giving you exactly what you wanted.

But a sick part of you loved every second of it, it craved the physical pain not being able to touch him caused. Because you wanted to lay your hands on his body, feeling the smooth skin under your fingertips before moving down to tease his cock.

Vincent could tell you were silently suffering by now, so he kept praising you, even as he got on top of you in bed and leaned down to kiss your collarbone before slowly moving up to your neck. This is when you began to beg him to fuck you, to skip this stupid teasing and finally give you what you needed so badly.

“Would it be weird if I told you I loved you?” you asked him while you were lying in bed together, both of you on the brink of falling asleep.

He let out a quiet, uncharacteristic laugh, then kissed your forehead. “I feel the same way, mon amour,” he told you. “What do you think about staying here for a while? For a few months, maybe.”

You let out a sigh as you thought about his suggestion. Winston had told you to stay as long as you had to, but did you really want to leave him alone for that long? “That's a lot of time, Vincent, I'm not sure. I have responsibilities back home,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.

“Don't you want to be with me?”

“Why don't you come to New York for a week or two? I could show you around,” you offered with a laugh.

He watched you silently for a while, carefully thinking about this idea. Sure, after what had happened the last time he was there, it was understandable if he was a little hesitant.

Maybe it wouldn't be weird to stay in France after all. After leaning over to give him a soft kiss, you rested your forehead against his. “Okay, fine, I'll stay here.”

Little did you know at the time that you wouldn't stay for just a couple of months. You stayed here for good, eventually marrying the man who had almost destroyed your life at one point.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Movin’ Mountains

Chapter 7: The Line

* Pairing: Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, subtle mention of a sex dream, and morning shenanigans between our favorite couple, but fairly tame though

* Word count: 3,099ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant and @lexixstewart for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! It's a little slow-moving, and kind of filler-y, but kind of necessary for Stella's development.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all my readers! Let’s close out this year, and bring in fresh and new opportunities and good health, wealth, and abundance in 2025! 💛

Stella hopped out of the trailer hearing everyone’s boot steps disappear towards the cab of the truck. Shutting the door tightly and making sure the latch was tight, she trudged to the back door on the driver’s side with a sigh. She wished she’d brought her earphones. Adjusting her glasses, she heaved the door open, keeping her gaze low.

She could feel everyone’s curious eyes on her as she leveled herself out to the best of her ability. Her patience was already thin from having to leave Kayce this morning. He looked so damn good and she could have stayed and been consumed by him if responsibility hadn’t made her stop him. Then the mess with Mia and Hotshot, making her feel like she was giving up on him. She wasn’t sure how long her calm demeanor would hold out today.

She looked up and caught Mia and Jimmy staring at her. Feeling a warm sensation on her cheeks under their gaze, she forced the blush from creeping up her face. She reached above her head and pulled herself into the backseat of Rip’s truck, plopping into the seat with a sigh.

Mia leaned over, invading Stella’s personal space. She shoved her phone in Stella’s face. “What do you wanna listen to? These two are boring and lame and want silence for hours.”

Stella shifted her back against the door, putting space between her and the other brunette woman. In all honesty, Stella didn’t hate Mia. But Mia’s loud, invasive personality grated on Stella’s nerves. She couldn’t help but think the boisterous swagger was to cover up some insecurity of hers.

Stella was happy that Jimmy was happy – but the way Mia treated him, often made Stella side eye her. She couldn’t figure out if Mia had an ulterior motive for being with Jimmy, or if she was just being overprotective.

Stella wanted to try and extend an olive branch, but she knew Mia would take an inch and run a mile if she wasn’t careful. Rip’s stern look in the rearview silenced any type of nicety Stella was going to lead with. Stella knew he was still irritated by Mia's presence. It didn't help matters that Stella ran late this morning either. His glare was a passive reminder that everyone was toeing a fine line today. She thought she better let Mia down easy.

“Normally, I’d like some tunes,” Stella could feel the heat from Rip’s stare, and hoped he’d wait to hear what she had to say, “but I’d rather listen to the air conditioner right now, Mia.”

Mia’s shoulders dropped. She pouted, sinking back into her corner of the truck like a petulant child. She muttered under her breath, but loud enough for all of them to hear, about them being boring as hell. Jimmy shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at his girlfriend’s behavior. They’d all seen Rip, who wasn’t much of a people person, lose his temper enough to know Mia was dangerously close to the edge.

Stella couldn’t help but to chuckle. “My boyfriend’s 10 year old behaves better than that, girl.” An uncertain air consumed the men in the cab of the truck with her open admittance of possession over Kayce. It was almost like they forgot that Stella and Kayce were a real thing now. She smirked fondly at the men. She knew how hard it was because she took quite a while to get used to saying it out loud too.

Mia crossed her arms and mind wandered to Stella and Kayce. Their teamwork effortless, almost choreographed – the way they balanced the workload, both emotional and physical, captivated her. Kayce a strong leader and Stella one in her own right, but both together an unstoppable force. Mia knew they would take over this ranch one day. That’s what she longed for with Jimmy. A relationship that was steady as a rock and effortlessly adaptable to anything that came their way.

Mia ignored Stella, making Stella sigh and relax back against her window. She closed her eyes, trying to steal a few minutes of shut eye. After all, Kayce had her up very early this morning long before the start of his day. ‘Damn rancher’s hours,’ a soft smile spread across her cheeks as her mind floated back to him and the sleepy romp he greeted her with this morning.

Stella was rudely woken by the sound of Mia shuffling around and loudly singing to herself. She fixed her glasses, and glanced around the truck. Rip’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, which Stella was sure was to keep from reaching back and strangling Mia. Jimmy shifted in his seat, making Stella wonder if his back was bothering him, and Mia rocked back and forth lost in her out of tune country song.

Straightening up in her seat, Mia looked over at her with a smirk. “You havin’ a good dream over there?”

Stella breathed in deeply and stretched. She huffed out, dropping her arms and took a glance out the windows. From their immediate surroundings, she could tell they were close to their destination. Her brain finally kicked in and she remembered Mia asked her a question. “Actually, yes. I was.”

“So when you mumbled Kayce,” Mia started but she stopped short with Stella’s fiery eye contact.

“You’re damn straight.” Stella refused to let Mia embarrass her in front of the guys. “I was dreaming about this morning.” Groans echoed from the front seat, making Stella grin.

“Alright that’s enough of that,” Rip interrupted. “We’re here.”

The truck rumbled up along the outer fence for the arena. The crunching of the gravel driveway was loud as the heavy trailer came to a stop next to the arena fence. Stella, Jimmy, and Mia watched as the cowboys came into view. A chute opened with a clang and a horse bucked around the arena, doing everything in its power to get the rider off of him. They watched in awe as the cowboy held on tight and didn’t give up until the pickup men came to get him.

Mia jumped out of the truck slamming the door. She stepped forward and opened Jimmy’s door for him. Rip remained in the truck with Stella. She stayed quiet, observed the grouchy foreman.

He let out a loud breath, closing his eyes and dropping his head back against the headrest. “Ahh, thank god. Silence.”

Stella giggled quietly at his dramatics. “She’s entirely bad, Rip.” The irritable cowboy glared at her in the rear view mirror. A laugh escaped her. “I know, I know. She’s not your usual stoic cowboy.”

“It’s not that, Stella.”

Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “Then what is it?”

“The bunkhouse has turned into a fuckin’ frat house.” He shook his head, “I don’t know when it happened, but it needs to be nipped.”

“There’s been a lot goin’ on, and the bunkhouse wasn’t exactly top priority. We’ll get it back together. Maybe I can figure somethin’ out,” Stella shrugged.

Rip nodded. “Today though, I’m havin’ you do the talking.” Stella’s eyes bugged out of her head. Rip smirked, “oh don’t give me that, you know these guys just as well as I do. It’s your turn to take the lead.”

Stella scratched her head and breathed out harshly. It was now or never because soon she would be expected to do these things without Rip’s supervision. She blew out a breath and opened the door, sliding out of the back of the truck.

Jimmy and Mia stood by the back of the trailer, waiting for direction from Rip. They were surprised when they witnessed the hardened cowboy stay in the truck. Stella walked up to the outer arena fence and saw that Sid Steiner was strutting his way over.

Stella waved out a hand to the man as she heard Mia exclaim about who he was in the background. “Hey Sid!”

Sid ducked his head in a polite greeting. “Howdy, Miss Stella! What can I do for ya?”

“Rip should have called you,” she glanced back at the truck, “but we have a gelding we thought you might get some fun out of. I don’t have enough time to work with him as much as he needs, even though it pains me to give ‘im up.”

“Oh, he’s a rough one, huh?”

“Yeah, even Kayce won’t touch him. And Rip doesn’t have the patience for him any more.”

Sid made a face at that admission. Rip, he knew had a short rope for that kind of thing. But Kayce would normally work with any freight train that came his way. In Sid’s opinion, that kid was born to break colts.

Stella cleared her throat, interrupting his thoughts. “Where do you want him?”

“Drop him off in the arena. We'll see what he can do.” Sid began to turn around but stopped himself. “What’s his name?”

Stella grinned at Sid’s memory. He knew she liked the respect of knowing a horse’s name and using it. “Hotshot.” Stella jogged to the truck and leaned in the passenger window to give Rip direction. “Back ‘im up to the arena,” she tapped the window and backed up, giving Rip room to maneuver the truck around.

“Jimmy, Mia!” The couple’s heads turned on a swivel to Stella. She waved her hand in the direction of the truck and trailer. “Help them get Hotshot in the arena.” Mia stared at her, but Jimmy left her standing there open mouthed. Since he had better knowledge of Stella’s new role, he knew to just go with her flow instead of questioning it.

As Jimmy came up beside her, Stella spun on her heel and matched his pace. She hollered over her shoulder, “move it Mia! If you hold your mouth open anymore, you’re gonna catch flies. Let’s go!”

Mia sputtered but her feet started to move, catching up to her boyfriend and Stella quickly. The three of them, plus the help of a few of Sid’s guys, made quick work of getting Hotshot out of the trailer, strapped up, and into the chute. The gelding snorted in anger, pawing at the ground.

Stella patted the gelding’s shoulder. “You got this, boy.” The foursome climbed their way behind the chute to watch Hotshot’s ride. Stella could hear Rip talking to Jimmy about the difference between rodeo on the weekends, show rodeo, and business rodeo.

Sid’s son Rocker, who couldn’t be older than 15, strutted up to the group of adults. He nodded to Stella, who he’d met a few times before, and climbed over the fence to mount up on Hotshot. Stella smirked at Rocker’s determination. She knew he would one day rule the business rodeo world.

She glanced over at Jimmy, who watched the whole scene with wide eyed wonder. He glanced at Stella and admitted, “that kid is 1000 percent cooler than me.”

Stella chuckled and leaned toward him and Mia. “He’s been riding things that have tried to buck him off since he was barely walkin’. Honestly? He’s cooler than all of us,” she looked back to the arena with a laugh.

Sid mounted his horse after getting Rocker ready. “You ready,” he asked his son. Rocker gave a curt nod, laid back on Hotshot, and put himself in position to ride.

With another assertive nod saying he was ready to go, Sid’s men popped open the chute. Hotshot and Rocker took off. Hotshot bounced and flung himself hard. He was doing everything he could to get Sid’s son off his back. He spun this way and that, kicking every which way, but Rocker stuck to Hotshot’s back like glue.

Stella had never seen the gelding that angry. Yes, she’d been thrown. She’d witnessed Rip, Jimmy, and Kayce get flung like ragdolls by Hotshot as well. Never this hard though. Next to her, Jimmy stood up to watch the show in front of him. Rocker started to slip off the side of the gelding, but righted himself quickly. Everyone in the crowd of people was hollering at the teenager to keep fighting.

Sid and the other pickup men came up on both sides of Hotshot to pull Rocker off and get him to safety. Stella heard Jimmy whisper in amazement to himself. She stood next to him and watched as Sid made over to them. Leaning on the fence, she called out to Sid. “So what do ya think?”

“I mean, he bucks pretty good Miss Stella, but he’s not competition material.” Sid leaned on his saddle horn. “I’ll give you a couple grand for him, but that’s because it’s you and Rip.”

Stella thought about it, and looked at Rip nearby listening. Rip just shrugged at her, forcing her to figure it out on her own. He wouldn’t be around forever to give her all the answers. Sella thought maybe she could convince John to keep him on the feed bill if she could get Hotshot to mind his manners? Stella didn’t want to give up on him. She shook her head and faced Sid. “I appreciate that, but John wants him off the feed bill. If he won’t be any good to you, I don’t wanna dump him on yours.”

“Tell ya what? We could keep ‘im for a little while, run him until he don’t feel like buckin’ anymore, if that’ll help?”

“Nah, I’ll make it work. I think I have an idea. Thanks though, Sid.”

“Anytime, Stella,” he smiled at her as she walked away. Sid looked at Rip and waved, “see ya later, man!”

Mia grabbed Stella’s attention, “he didn’t want the horse?”

“Didn’t buck hard enough,” Stella clenched her fists as she explained while continuing to walk by the woman. “C’mon, we gotta get him back in the trailer.” Mia stood, following after Stella.

The women hopped down off the chute loading zone, and Mia jogged ahead to open the trailer. Stella went and got Hotshot from one of Sid’s cowboys. Giving the gelding a pat on the neck, she whispered to him, “it’s okay boy. We’ll get you right.” Stella led him over to the trailer and loaded him up.

She heard Rip call out for Jimmy as she stepped out. She waved to the door, silently directing Mia to close it up as she listened to Rip subtly explain to Jimmy why he shouldn’t rodeo anymore. Especially after his last incident.

“Is this you telling me I shouldn’t rodeo?” Jimmy asked.

“No, Jimmy this is me telling you why you shouldn’t.” Rip cleared his throat. “What you do with the information I give you is up to you, but I want you to think long and hard about it.” He clapped Jimmy’s shoulder, “let’s go.”

Jimmy glanced at Stella sullenly. She smiled sadly at him. Knowing how excited he was when he found something he was good at in this lifestyle, her heart bled for him, understanding that they were slowly convincing him to stop what he loved.

Jimmy moved past her and Stella reached out to grab his arm. “I’m sorry, Jaybird. We’ll figure somethin’ out.”

“Yeah, Stella. Me too,” he muttered and kept going to the cab of the truck. Stella dropped her hand in disappointment, and joined the group in the vehicle.

They headed on down the road back to the Yellowstone. Inside the truck was quiet. Everyone seemed to be locked into their own worlds. Some despondent, some resentful, some overthinking.

Stella’s mind worked overtime, trying to come up with a solution that worked for both Hotshot and Jimmy. She had a possible idea, but she would need to talk to Rip and Kayce before she got Jimmy’s hopes up.

Jimmy stared out the window watching the Montana landscape fly by them. He understood Rip and Stella’s intentions for telling him to stop rodeoing. He knew they cared and were telling him they didn’t want to see him die. But he finally found something that he was good at and it was being ripped away from him.

Mia pouted against the window. She’d heard the conversation between Rip and Jimmy. She thought Jimmy should be able to do whatever he wants with his free time. She couldn’t believe that Stella and Rip were trying to convince him to stop. He was good with broncos and he could make a lot of money. He could make a life for himself, outside of the ranch.

A loud pop and Rip letting out a string of curses pulled everyone out of their thoughts. Stella heard Hotshot squeal in displeasure. The truck vibrated and shook back and forth. Looking around the truck, everyone was holding on to their respective oh shit handles and Rip navigated the truck to the side of the road.

“Damn who dropped a quarter in the magic fingers truck,” Stella joked as the vehicle came to a stop.

“Shut the fuck up, Stella!” Rip screamed. He huffed and puffed with rage as he jumped out to check the tires.

Stella’s lips pursed together, agitated at Rip’s lack of humor, but also understood she was on the thin ice of his temper and it was about to break. Jimmy and Mia stared at her slack jawed. It wasn’t everyday that Rip lost his cool on Stella. Everyone knew that.

Her lips smacked together and said, “y’all stay here. I’m gonna go help him.”

“You think you should after that? I wouldn’t.” Mia crossed her arms indignantly.

Stella rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mia. I know how to deal with pissy pants,” she shoved open the door and hopped out. Marching to the bed of the truck she could hear Rip fighting with a tire on the trailer. She stopped at the bed and grabbed the tire iron and the jack.

Rip kicked violently at the tire and cussed as Stella sidled up behind him. “You might need these, cactus jack.” He leaned a hand against the trailer wall and let out a heavy sigh. “Here, you take the jack and raise it up some,” Stella directed. “I’ll get the lugs off.” Rip grabbed the jack from her and the pair silently got to work.

Jimmy and Mia watched from the inside of the truck. They both decided it was safer to be there than out there with the explosive lead wrangler. Mia cracked a joke about how Rip was one angry man.

45 minutes later they were back on the road. Stella was a little sweaty, but she could deal with it. She silently pleaded with Mia and Jimmy to stay quiet the rest of the ride home.

[strawberryfairi]

A Sensual Surprise 🩵

Satoru Gojo X Black Fem Reader smut🤎💦 (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾‍♀️)

It's four in the morning and you're long gone fast asleep in bed, having drifted off to sleep hours and hours ago.

The place is quiet, not a single sound in your apartment except for the soft, minor key ambient music playing from your Macbook on the dresser a few feet from your bed.

It's a fairly new discovery for you, ambient music. The ethereal eleven hour long youtube video with visuals of space and surreal looking art of planets showed from the dimmed down laptop screen. It was the perfect way to help you get a full nights sleep, especially during times like these when Satoru is off somewhere being a hero.

Sometimes it's a few days, others it's weeks, and then the worst ones of all...when he's gone for a month or more.

It's been eight weeks since Satoru had to leave for Europe, Austria to be exact. You'd never been, yet you always hear folks saying how it's so beautiful, and so of course you were excited and suggested to come along with him this time. But Satoru's protective over you, and always thinks realistically.

"You know that's not a good idea. I can't be worried about your safety while I'm working." He'd said, his tone dead serious yet soft.

"I know..." You sighed with a disappointed frown, feeling your heart sink to your feet.

"Just stay home, baby. I'll come back." He hummed, lifting your chin up and leaning down to plant a little kiss on your lips.

You don't get to really talk to him much during these times when he's working from far away, the time zones and overall busyness making it nearly impossible to communicate for longer than a few short texts back and forth, or a couple minutes phone call.

At this point you felt you were basically in a long distance relationship, but you love Satoru, so you're always faithful and wait for him to come back home with as much patience as you can muster.

Tonight though, your wait would soon be over. Satoru had been planning his surprise for you days before he'd get on his flight back to Japan, and now he could finally execute it in real time.

He eased his way into the apartment, shutting the front door quietly and making his way to the bedroom. One by one he sheds off his clothes and sets down the bags on bags of random gifts and trinkets he got for you while in Austria.

He couldn't help the wide, loving smile that made it's way across his lips as he watched your sleeping form on the queen sized bed. His heart was so warmed, he found you just so damn cute with your relaxing music on to help you sleep without him.

You were laying on your back, wearing your light blue, satin bonnet with a cute bow that he picked out for you himself a few months ago at the quaint new beauty supply store you'd tried out. He knew you always wore that one specifically whenever he was away. He made a mental note to steal it and wear it himself tomorrow when you finally take it off just to mess with you and make you laugh.

He eagerly pulls the sheets and comforter from the foot of the bed, untucking it as he sneaks underneath. You've always been an extremely light sleeper, hearing every single little noise, so over time he's gotten his technique together so he doesn't prematurely wake you up and scare you.

He gets to around your pretty thighs, slowly opening your legs so he could rest himself right in between. He pauses, feeling you slightly stir and try to reposition your legs how you had them before, yet stop when your body gives up.

"Don't wake up, baby..." He coos barely above a whisper, using all his might not to rush into his plan.

You're wearing your usual sleep attire, nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties. He'd prefer it if you skipped on the panties as it would make what he's about to do easier, but he can work with it.

Satoru shifts your legs over his broad, muscular shoulders, licking his lips excitedly as he goes to slowly shift your cute, black panties to the side. You stir again, this time a bit more than before, but by now he doesn't really care too much. His warm lips graze and brush against your soft, smooth thighs, basking in the feeling of your skin against his once again.

He plants the most gentlest kisses up each leg, up and up until he reaches his most precious treasure.

All it took was one kiss against your clit to wake you, jumping slightly as your hands fly downwards to his head underneath the covers. You let out a noise of shock and confusion, your mind feeling disoriented since you were so abruptly ripped out of your sleep.

Satoru continues on anyways as if nothing even happened, stroking your thighs with his hands as he gives a long, slow lick between your folds. A blend between a gasp and moan breaks past your lips, eyes widening as you rip the blankets away.

You're speechless, only able to look down in astonishment. Blue eyes meet your pretty dark brown ones, a light chuckle vibrating against your pussy.

"S-Satoru..?" You mutter breathily, your voice a bit raspy and weak.

"Mhmm." He moans back, running circles around your clit with his tongue. You wanted to talk more, tell him you're so glad he's back, and that you missed him so much, but the way he's eating you out so slowly and passionately is making your head spin even more than it already was.

"Mmmmm." You moan lowly, taking your hands and placing them in his soft, white hair. The once ethereal music-filled bedroom now became a cacophony of lewd moans, panting, and the sloppy wet sounds of his tongue lapping against your needy pussy.

"You missed me, baby?" He purrs between licks, looking deep into your eyes.

"Mhmm! S-so much." You moan airily, beginning to tug onto his hair.

His tongue moved faster, skillfully attempting to bury itself inside your little hole, then flicking and swirling around your clit.

"Ooooooh", You throw your head back in ecstasy, "Don't stop, don't stop!"

Your legs start to shake, quickly becoming overwhelmed as you reach what would be your first orgasm of the night.

"Cum on my tongue, princess." He commands lowly. Your back arches off the bed, eyes squeezing shut. You do exactly as he says, clenching your thighs around his face as you cum right on his eager tongue. Satoru laps up every last bit of your (what he believes strongly is) honey-like cum, not letting a single drop of nectar go to waste.

You pant heavily, trying to come down from the high he granted you yet his tongue keeps going, not even bothering to slow down a little bit.

It was then that you immediately realize it was definitely going to be a long night, and you didn't mind in the slightest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mmmm, I missed my tight little pussy so much." He moans lowly, rolling his hips into you harder.

You'd lost count how many times he'd made you cum at this point, you were a hot mess, legs held open wide by his large hands as he pounds into you. The way his hips snap into yours makes you see stars, eyes rolling back as your pussy keeps tightly squeezing his dick.

"I-I can't....baby!" You whimper, trying to tell him you were tapping out. To be honest, you'd tapped out waaaay long ago while he was still just eating you out, but he didn't care.

Satoru was focused, set on a mission to beat his pretty pussy up all night into the morning, making you cum as many times as he sees fit. You love the way he looks on top of you, so damn sexy with his hair sticking to his skin, and those big muscles you love tensing and releasing with every stroke.

"You're doin' so good taking this dick, baby. Creamin' all over me..." He coos into your ear, keeping his strokes hard and deep. His right hand releases your leg, placing itself right on your neck and choking you just the way he knows you like it. Your body shakes violently underneath him, about to cum again just from the sound of his voice and his hand around your throat.

"Oh my god! I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" You announce frantically, digging your nails roughly into his back as your walls flutter, granting him yet another sweet orgasm.

"Fuuuck babygirl. You look so pretty cumming all over me like that."

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Y'all this idea hit me literally out of nowhere and I JUST HAD to get to typin'!!!

[royaltyoon]

HEYyy since you're back yoon :) (welcome back btw) I really enjoyed your escape room headcanons. It was fun!! Can I request for part 2? With any characters you would like

Thank you anon!! It's so good to be back (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

HEADCANONS

Escape room headcanons

[A/N]

I was planning on writing another part of this so it works out for the best, thanks anon.

This was SO fun to write lol

Johan

He's not the brightest in the bunch and nor did he want to be here

So you can't really blame his lack of interest.

He just wanted to, in his words, "get it over with"

But what he didn't make up for in brains or the patience, he made up for in luck.

Ik Johan is never lucky in the ptj verse so just please, let him have this.

It was by fluke at first, when he accidentally pressed a switch on the TV to display the next puzzle.

In all honesty, he just wanted to see if it worked so he could make use of the time he was forced to spend locked in a room, against his will.

It happened the second time when he was looking at the bookshelf, picking out random books.

Looking to see if anything in there was exciting enough for him, when suddenly a piece of paper fell from one of the books .

And there was a riddle on it.

It was suspicious at this point, you looked at him sceptically but he just shrugged with an innocent look.

"how the hell are you doing it!?" You asked in surprise. It could've been a coincidence the first two times. But after the third?? After the FORTH?? it didn't seem like a coincidence anymore

"I don't know!" He flailed his arm around a little stressing his point that he indeed had no idea of what was happening.

"Stand in the corner, don't do anything. I want to solve atleast one puzzle before we escape." You seethed at him.

He quietly followed your orders and leaned against the wall. But, oh?

He felt a small push on his back, he leaned off and looked back at the wall. Seeing a 3d version of the world map. And a small compartment which was definitely not there before.

"umm, we're looking for a key, right?" He asked to your back as you were busy looking for clues in the show piece. "Yeah, why?" You answered without looking back.

"uh, I think I found it."

You whipped your head in his direction faster than sound, he just stood there pointing at the small compartment. "There's a key in here."

You were not happy to have gotten out without solving even a single puzzle

"sir, you both have the record for the fastest escape." The employee said.

That did little to help your mood

"But we have got to disqualify you, for you skipped a puzzle before escaping the room."

Yeah that sounded more appropriate for the day you're having.

All in all? You were never doing an escape room with Johan again.

Eli

Eli never had a normal childhood, far from it actually

So it was no wonder he never knew any games to play, well except for hide-n-seek

But that game was far from normal too (iykyk)

Eli, to say the least, was excited

Even before entering the room, you could see it in his eyes. He was looking forward to it.

And he got to work the very first second.

He was determined to waste not even one second

It wasn't easy, but you both were making your way through it fairly well

You made sure not to do much, just give few insights and few leads you had so he would do most of it

He opted to take hints on the clues even you couldn't figure out

And it was made known to you there were a limited three hints only after you both used up the three hints

It forced you both to stare at the room with an empty gaze looking around to figure something out

And it wasn't going well, so Eli decided to take things in his hand

"ma'am." He spoke slightly louder, looking at the camera. "May we have an extra clue?" And he smiled, crinkling the side of his eyes. He looked as if an angel landed on earth, like heaven cleared the skies just to shine a beam of light on him.

Eli jang may not be a good hairdresser

He may not be the best student

He may not even be good at an escape room

But something Eli jang was good at? It was using his pretty privileges.

You rolled your eyes discreetly knowing what he was doing. "O-oh." The voice stumbled a little. "But three is the limit, sir." It only caused Eli to display a sickeningly sweet frown on his sickeningly pretty face. "The last one was a pretty obvious clue, we could've solved it even without. Don't you think so too?"

You could tell the employee melted at his smile. "Y-youre right." she stuttered before giving you the clue.

Eli just grinned shrugging his shoulders after noticing your glare. "Thank you, you're such a sweetheart." He spoke in a honey tone looking back at the camera and ended it off with a wink.

You heard a dreamy sigh from the speakers which just make Eli look proud of himself.

After that, the rest was pretty much smooth sailing.

Though, the employee didn't miss her chance to ask for his number and he replied like he always did.

The iconic, 'Im sorry I use a pager.'

And she looked absolutely devastated on hearing that

Yujin

It was your idea, not his

But it felt like your presence was absolutely not needed in this situation

You felt more useless than the g in lasagna.

You were sure it'd probably helped yujin more if you weren't there.

The only one who could relate to you in that situation were the hints

The hints that didn't even need to be used, just like someone else you could think of.

It's not like you didn't try

It wasn't even the fact that he restricted you in any way

But the second, the second you receive a puzzle. It's already solved.

It felt like magic, that was the only explanation you could think of

There was no way he'd know the answer before the gears in your head even started working

Or the only other reason would be:

"you've come here before, haven't you?"

He looks up from the sliding puzzle he was working on. "Huh?"

"How else do you know everything, there's no way you could actually be that smart." You sounded exasperated and it was heard in your voice.

He turned his attention back to the puzzle, "I have no idea what you're tal- OH!, it's says Denmark on here." He says completing yet another puzzle

Wow what a complete shocker

"There's a world map behind you, press Denmark and see if anything shows up." He said pointing behind your shoulder.

Uhhhh...

Where was Denmark again?

It was as if he read your mind and silently came up behind you "here." And pressed the small button on what you would've guessed was Denmark.

And it was. It opened a small compartment which held the key to the door. He completed the entire escape room on his own.

Wow what a complete shocker pt.2

GUESS WHAT?

Apparently he held the record for finishing it the fastest.

Wow what a complete shocker pt.3

But it was after this some guy named 'johan seong'

But the employees let y'all know he was disqualified so technically yujin has the record.

Here's part 1

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Sam Uley x Leah Clearwater || Addicted To You~ 18+

Word Count: 7,227 words

Genre: Pure smut so Adults ONLY, if you're a kid do not interact.

Scenario: Continuation of the first previous stories. Leah takes the time to claim Sam as her very own once more and Sam is more than happy to take everything she gives him.

Thank you again for commissioning me my dear! @infinitelystoic1996 I know it took a bit longer this time but as I've mentioned I've very much appreciated your patience with me! I hope you enjoy your story and you know I love hearing your thoughts and reviews.

💗

~

She can't help it anymore.

The thoughts that keeps coming to her whenever she thinks about everything; the emotions, the kisses, the love that she had always wanted from him… it all plagued her and her mind heavily.

Sam was so cute, so happy now that they had gotten back to better terms and though they've talked about it many times now in order to vent out everything, Leah had found herself craving something from him and considering how peppy he is these days she's sure she can get it with no problem and no hassle…

It wasn't until he came over after a hunt, checking in on her again for what seemed to be the millionth time now that she had come to a conclusion.

She caught his scent the second he stepped onto the porch. She's been doing better, healing beautifully with the care of her clan and most importantly him. Sam had cut ties with Emily, he's told her so many times and even now Leah hardly even caught the other woman's scent around him, just only after they'd have meetings with the clan.. scent being linked to proximity. She trusts him, of course she does but Leah can't help the remaining emotions she has even though she's trying to contain them as best as she can.

To explain, she's been feeling a bit more territorial over him… ‘a bit' being understatement… wanting to take hold of him and pin him down beneath herself so he had nowhere else to run. Embarrassingly enough it gets to the point now where she's dreaming about it, waking up in a pool of sweat and hungry for him. Sam has made a couple moves now, brushing his lips against her throat when they hugged or taking the time to rub his scent over her things… he even touches her, gripping her hips with his hands, rubbing her back and venturing lower, even hugging her just so much closer when they cuddled. Sam was taking his time with her and whether the reasons were because he was gauging her reactions or simply teasing her Leah didn't know and couldn't care as time came and passed.

She decided that she would also take her time, play into his actions; touching him, caressing him, kissing him in all the ways she knew made him shiver without going so far.

And finally Sam has seemed to break in that very moment.

Coming to her like some needy puppy as she sits delicately on the bed, a leg crossed over the other as she leisurely lounges.

“What's wrong honey? Something's bothering you?” She starts off, her eyes lidded as he stands against the closed door, his chest rising and falling in a way that was more than normal. He definitely seems bothered… there's a bit of a shadow casted over his eyes thanks to the little light they shared with the grace of the nearly full moon outside. Her curtains are wide open, the luminescent light rolling over her smooth skin in a way that actually made her look edible to him.

She knows what she's doing.

She always does, and oh Sam can't help but give in.

“Kneel for me Sam.” Leah suddenly hums and before Sam can even bother to think of arguing he finds himself practically leaping to get to his knees before her, scrambling to get on his knees like a good boy… eyes sparkling and seeing her dad ask the evil ploThe grin that graces her lips at the sight is enough to make heat stir in his gut and carefully he stalks forward.

It's a lively night, the crickets chirping and owls hooting and in this room with just the two of them the energy seems to add a air of need, of desperation. There's a particular shadow that runs along the floor just a few feet before her and Leah can't tell if it's her own thirst for him or if his form seems to shift and then corrects like she thinks it does. It's like he's just barely containing the beast inside of him, that wolf that she loved and cared for just as much as she did for him naturally. It's alluring, the thought that he really is this eager for her… that no one else could make him react like this.

Well… almost no one.

It's a sudden thought though one that manages to piss her off nonetheless.

The last thing she wants to do is think about that, that woman who had took her place in her departure.. and yes, Sam had come back, had even spent the time fighting to get Leah back… Leah still found herself thinking of certain things like if he did these things for her and if he hadn't would he if he was given the chance? It's rather annoying and as Sam makes it to her heels, sitting on his knees and moving his hands to trail over her hips, Leah moves a hand and gently pets his hair. He hums at the touch, his mouth moving in to lay kisses over the top of his soft thighs only to groan when she takes the time to grip his hair a moment after. Her nails lightly scrape his scalp sending shivers rushing up his spine and this time he looks up to her, his eyes shining as he looks at her with such intensity that Leah feels her stomach do a flip right after.

“Can I ask you something my love?” Leah says softly, her own eyes twinkling as they look at each other and Sam nods, the blush on his cheeks growing as he lowers his gaze again, listening yes but he can't resist opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out to turn his kisses at her toes into his tongue licking a stripe up her inner thigh.

“You can ask me anything Leah..” he replies, his voice low and heavy as he leers closer and closer to the space between her thighs with a clear goal in mind.

She grins and gives his hair a tug, just as his nose brushes her clothed sex. So close and yet so, so far…

“Will you strip for me and perhaps show me your belly?” She hums, giggling at the way his eyebrows seem to shoot up at the words and the way she says them. He physically looks surprised but that blush still lingers and as her eyes take a moment to venture down his body she can notice the bump in his pants and Leah can't resist the temptation that leads her to letting go of his hair only to lift a foot and place it in his lap.

Sam noticeably sucks in a breath, his eyes lidded as his breath rises and falls. He spreads his legs some more, placing his hands a bit behind him, leaning back on them while his breath grows heavier. It's cute and Leah blushes as he seems to press against her foot. She can feel him hardening as he rocks against her and she can see his neediness as well as the way his nipples seem to harden a bit as if seeking for attention as well.

She's pretty sure she's just awakened something in both of them that neither of them had previously been aware of.

Of course there had been moments that lingered in her memories, times where he'd have his moments of submitting under her hand and now that Leah thought about it those times always seemed to leave a burning hunger in her gut.

How many people got to see Sam like this? Quite literally on his knees while rocking desperately for friction that they got to provide… She was special, she held a privilege that no one else did and she'd be damned to share such with anyone else.

She'll admit it.

She was so fucking annoyed with Emily.

But maybe she should take the time to let him know that as well, let it burn into his heart and brain so that he'd never question it again. As cute as he looked right now, panting while she rubs him up and down and with care, Leah couldn't afford to reward him without making sure he learned this lesson.

She pulls her foot away and crawls back onto the bed to make room for him with no comments and as if he was an actual dog on a leash he eagerly seemed to follow her movements, clambering onto the bed and taking this brief moment to strike and lead the positioning. He groans lowly, moving in and lips running up her legs in sweet and passionate kisses… up her hips which made her shiver and bite her lip, past her soft and warm belly, over her kiss sensitive chest, along her throat and finally to the her lips and Leah had to admit that her head was definitely spinning by the time his lips smashed into her own. It was hard to resist, hard to fight against and for a moment she let Sam get on top, grappling and gripping her thighs and then pushing them up. The feeling of his hot bulge pressed snug against her excited and clothed cunt was enough to make Leah moan, her head falling back and her lips leaving his as she shudders and Sam doesn't waste a beat in pressing his lips against her jawline, kissing and nipping her skin until he reaches her collarbone.

His lips are hot against her skin, his mouth opening so he can nibble at her skin and trail his tongue over it.

He's hungry, desperate and the way his hips ruts into hers leaves her breathless and Leah has to pace herself though it's so hard.

“S-Sam..” she gasps and he continues, loving what he's hearing. There's a moment where he seems to just not be able to help himself, panting as he rolls his hips against her's and holds her legs open as he does so.

The only way she manages to stop him is by gripping his shoulders with her hands, her warm palms gripping at his body and then one moving up to lace into his hair and give it a sharp tug. It makes Sam jolt and he feels himself groan breathlessly as many sensations run through him in a blur. Even so, he gives Leah another rough grind and Leah twitches, both under him and from what he can tell between her legs as well. He could nearly feel everything, and with how hard he already was all Sam could manage to think of now is tearing off the last garments covering their bodies and sink his cock in as deep as it would go in her. Which was pretty fucking deep last time he checked but maybe he could use a reminder. Maybe she could as well?

Just the thought makes him even hotter; only Leah can get him this riled up… and Sam is happy with it being her of all people.

“H-Heel!” She squeaks, one particular rut making her toes curl and hips buck as she can't help herself, mind numbing pleasure making the edge of her vision blur as she moans under him.

Sam growls and it's a sound that makes her tremble, it's only now that she realizes that she's pushed him into a more natural state of thinking, something primal to what they were. Sam was usually so tame, so neat and professional so to have him here and hardly able to control himself as he pinned her under him makes Leah far more excited than she previously thought. She already knew what it was, that emotion running through him that simply made him want to mount her and make her sing all sorts of beautiful tunes and though it was always just a bit surprising when it jumped out Leah always loved it.

It was the only time she actually got a chance at attempting to tame him and oh how that makes her heart jump to her throat as a blush colors her warm cheeks.

It's takes everything in her not to fold now, to tell him she wanted him but no, not yet, she had plans for them.

With a groan Leah squirms and of course flipping the leader of the pack on his back was already a challenge normally but Leah manages to do so easily, running her nails down the nape of his throat just the way he likes it and as Sam lowers his guard, rolling his head back Leah takes her chance. She runs her free hand up his chest and decides to pinch one of Sam's nipples and it's enough to make his breath hitch and his mouth fall open and quickly Leah surges forward, using all of her power to push him back and quickly clamber on top before Sam could even gather himself, head spinning as his back meets the blankets and pillows. It takes a few seconds but he soon feels Leah gracefully settle in his lap, sitting directly against his clothed bulge and a small grin on her pretty lips. Her eyes connect with his and Leah grins just a bit more, a cheeky gaze in her eyes as she slowly leans down and decides to stick her cute, pink tongue out and drag it along his throat, humming as Sam grunts.

He shudders under her, his hands thinking to move just a second too late as Leah trails her hands along his arms and to his wrists to pin them and Sam doesn't even attempt a struggle the second they give him a gentle squeeze.

“Oh look at you~” Leah hums from her position above him, pulling her tongue back to then brush her cheek against his firm and warm chest as she runs gentle circles against his chest.

“You're so cute, so hot… so desperate laying under me like this.” She coos like a siren singing to him and Sam falls directly into her symphony.

His chest is rising and falling and he knows just how hard he is by the way Leah feels against him. Every inch of her feels warm, hot, against him and Sam wanted to touch her again but he knows better even though it is tempting.

“Careful…” Sam breathes and it makes Leah bite her bottom lip as she looks him in his eyes.

“You know how these things usually go~...” he hums lowly, his eyes dark and sharp, a familiar gaze she's seen on him many times before and used when it came to hunting with the pack. That sharp gaze that in the cases that he waited for the prey, watched in the shadows until the perfect moment hit where his eyes would connect with theirs before he rushed out with infamous speed… that gaze that always seemed to a rise out of her when he did chase down their meals and effectively killed them before looking back at her as if asking if she was proud of him.

And of course she always was.

She wants to challenge him, wants to see Sam crumble under her touch and she was going to get just that, one way or another.

She sat so prettily above him, her face turning smug as she continued to pin his hands down before giving her hips which sat directly against his own shifts, rolling, grinding now. She remembers just moments ago how he had her pinned, rutting against her like he was going to die if he didn't and Leah was still wet, very much so; wet, desperate, and dripping with desire. She rolls her hips; once, twice… before purring and leaning down to press another kiss to his lips which Sam eagerly chased after like a man dying of dehydration would chase after the smallest drip of water just to satisfy…

Though instead Leah wasn't just a water drop but a whole oasis to Sam.

So plentiful and flourishing that Sam believed she could even put the lights of Heaven to shame.

He wants to grab her, to take hold of those teasing hips and grab make and get a real feel of her but he knows what she's doing, knows what she's playing at and Sam loves it. Loves the way his heart is banging around in his chest, the way his cock is pressed against his boxers and straining them, the way that her hips gyrate against him. He moans against her lips and Leah blushes as she hears the sound that she held so dear. She loves knowing that he's enjoying his time with her, loves knowing he likes being under her and she was going to get so much more out of him. She needed to see her lover break before her very eyes and so Leah kisses his lips, slowly, passionately as she continues to wiggle her hips. Her lips gentle at first, her hands moving so her fingers could lace with his own as she held them, her body mushed against his own in a way that allowed her to literally feel his heart racing in his chest while her's seemed to match up with it.

Leah would never get tired of this, of being against him and having his lips against her own and shes so eager.

There's just so many things she wants to do to him, mark him in every way possible so no one stepped over any of her boundaries again. It did stop her from going to Emily personally like she's debated many times before…

“So cocky; I both hate and love that about you my love.” She purrs, slowly pulling back until she could rest both of her palms on his chest with a smile on those lips of hers. “thing is I'm enjoying taking my time, watching you as you crumble beneath my very own hands…” she cooes, her voice ringing in his ears and Sam groans again just listening. He really could listen to her talk all day. He loved her and that voice of hers so much that at times when Sam got lost in his thoughts of the future he'd find himself enjoying thoughts like listening to her and falling asleep to her rambles, or bathing with her while she sings for them, even the way she'd sound up on greeting him once they both woke up next to each other. Sam was so smitten, Emily didn't dare enter his brain not once since he trapped himself in this room and that's just the way he wanted it.

A part of him wanted to feel guilty to Emily but a bigger part of him felt so much relief having Leah like this, having her still so madly in love with him that instead of growing weak against his idiotic emotions she grows stronger, ready to steal him back.

“Then again… I'm sure anyone's hands would do yes?” She asks after a moment, her eyes darkening as she continues to sit above him and immediately after the question leaves her beautiful lips Sam perks at them, his eyes widening at such an accusation. He fumbles to reply, opening his mouth just to quickly snap shut once more as Leah moves and trails her nails down his stomach which feels just a bit too amazing… the feeling like that of pleasure just teasing him enough to leave his surroundings spinning in his head. He felt so warm, felt as though he could smell, could taste every hormone that filled the air and he struggled to find his voice as his mouth fell open in heavy panting.

He knows exactly what she's doing.

“No.” He breathes, arching as she moves to rub his belly, hips rolling.

“No?” She says incredulously though he immediately knows she's playing with him and much like a muskrat in the jaws of a carnivore he feels caged under that response.

“No, what?” She cooes, grinning down at him and admiring her work.

Sam groans in arousal and frustration, both irritated and hard and it takes everything in him to be good just as she ordered him to even though the wolf within him was practically losing its mind. How could it not? It would be wrong not to be all pent up and whiny and Sam soaks it in like a wet sponge, consuming the energy that came from himself and showing it outwardly to her with little to no shame.

He knows what she wants.

“It can't be just anyone it has to be you Leah…” he whines out and it's a noise that scratches Leah like scratching a cat's ears. Soothes that itch in her brain that so desperately wanted to hear him admit it, admit that he wanted her and only her. Sam was a mess, shivering under her, grunting and arching as she continues to play and tease his body, saying the filthiest of things to him in the sweetest of ways and it excited him to the point where Sam was sure his cock would rip at the seams of his boxers at any moment.

Leah hums, contemplating and Sam growls again, bucking his hips and making her moan in the sweetest of ways.

He could easily try and flip her and if he succeeded like he knew he very much could, he could lead this but he so desperately wants to be a good boy for her. To prove to her once again that he could be one and that he could follow these fairly simple orders.

“Please…” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as an attempt to focus but it hardly helped considering even with his eyes closed he could still see her; in hardly anything at all and bouncing above him in the lewdest of ways with that devious smirk on her lips that he do readily wanted to kiss and suck and bite…

“Please, pleasepleaseplease..” Sam groans, his cock so eager, so excited as she seemed to play his body like a fiddle, like it was her own that she'd explored many, many times before already. To be honest, it was her own and she'd prove it. She'd make a mess out of him.

She seems to match up with his words too, rolling her hips firmly with each breathless beg until Sam looked like he might just lose it altogether. Never once had he's been broken down like this and by anyone else but her. He knew she probably wouldn't believe it but Emily wasn't like her, not in any way… no one was like Leah and he had spent many years learning such a lesson just to still have to be taught and oh did he want to learn…

He loved these moments with her, doing things with her and exploring the most unknown but tempting things together. Sam never begged, pleaded but for her he would.

As the leader he never had to but now here and stuck under Leah's warm body, she gyrated against him…her body slipping against his, her hands moving to free Sam’s wrists just to cup his cheeks instead, moaning lowly as their lips eagerly pressed against each other.

They are both passionate but there's an extra heat in Sam tonight, one that leaves him kissing her like he worried they'd never kiss again. They hold each other close; one kiss turning into several in no time at all. Her tongue slips out before trailing over his lip and Sam opens with nothing but another heated groan. When her tongue slides against his she shudders and they are so entangled in just a matter of seconds that before even she knew it Leah was having to pull back after a while and pant. She'll never forget such a taste, and by the wild look in his eyes she's sure he won't either and she can't help but smirk at the way he's looking at her as if the kiss sent him into what seemed to be a dream.

“Fine.” She hums softly as she pulls away from the kiss for a moment, leaning to kiss the tip of his nose instead before smirking.

“I'm in charge though~ you'll be a good boy won't you Sam? You'll behave and do everything I say right?” She says and her tone is just barely tipping into playfulness and similarly the tone reminds him of someone impersonating a certain wolf leader…

She's used such a voice on him before. Usually when he said something unintentionally funny that would make her snort or send her into a fit of giggles especially when he knew she was doing so because of him. He can't bother to even think about scolding her which is what he'd usually do even when her antics were rather humorous. He groans, far too excited to continue to act like he's not willing to agree to anything and everything just to have her right now and as her hips continue to bounce Sam was more ready than ever to toss the white flag.

“Okay… Please Leah…” he breathes.

And as Leah grins smugly… continuing to roll her hips, biting down in her bottom lip as she actively watches as Sam loses it. He twitches, snarling under his breath and it drives her wild.

“You're in charge.. please Leah, please baby? Please let me fuck you.. let me cum deep in your pu-” he speaks and his eyes are so bright, hips rutting up against her and Leah moans, her breath hitching just hearing him say that while they moved against each other. He usually is so collected but seeing him like this, so broken and just barely keeping himself together has Leah so fucking wet that it's actually insane…

Sam can smell it so heavily too which definitely doesn't help him or calm him down in the slightest, the smell of her excitement soaking her cunt is driving him all over the walls of this room. He's a mess, nipples just as hard as his cock is in his boxers right now as sweat prickles at his skin. He rolls his head back. He's literally losing his fucking mind.

Being like this with her was like being in the morning when the sun hadn't yet came up but was getting to its positioning in the sky…morning fog clouding up the forest, the scent of raindew heavy in his nose and Sam was lost in the feeling of her just as he tended to be lost in the feeling of something so trivial, so natural..

He's completely lost in the touch.

He needs her so much, too much. He's trying to keep it together, he wants to be good but he also just wants to roll them over… to tear off the remaining fabric from their bodies and slip into her cunt and make it squirt… make it speak as he has his fun with her, with taking her on the best of rides as well I'm the process. He wanted to hear it, wanted to savor the sound of it and her cries and moans and if she allowed it he'd love to do so in a way that even those across seas could possibly hear her.

He whimpers.

Brokenly.

He's overwhelmed, and honestly it really is his fault. He's so desperate that he's willing to do anything, everything, whatever she wants. As good as this all feels he's trembling, shaking… the overwhelming need to do something but while he's trying to hold back makes him want to she'd just a few tears… To sob and honestly he feels close to it. And Leah loves the sight, she enjoys that face he's making.. enjoying the way his body twitches and feels under her and she is tempted… very much so if she can push him into fully breaking but… she takes mercy. A bit of some as she grins wickedly.

He's so cute.

She loves the fact that he's so needy and Leah wants to be nice, even though she loves the way he's arching and the way his eyes squeeze shut, wet with tears… she'll be nice. For now and only because she needs it just as badly as he does.

She pants, she loves this.

Loves every second of it.

Leah finally seems to have mercy, pulling her hands from him to take the time to reach back and run one through her hair. She lets out a ragged breath and Sam quickly finds himself moving his own hands to finally grip at her hips holding her firmly, so much so that he can't help but growl lowly and drags his claws slowly over her skin before moving to drag down her panties.

Leah gasps, her breath catching in her throat before coming out in a long groan.

She needs it just as bad as him.

Leah looks down over him again, her eyes hungry… and Sam feels his heart racing in her chest as they look at each other and it's clear both of them need it. Sam continues to drag her panties down until the fabric slips down her smooth skin revealing her plush ass and apparently he does it at just the right time because she mewls slowly as her bare cunt finds itself now against his clothed cock. Quickly Sam continues rather upset he's the one now holding them up and as Leah scoots around and lifts herself for a moment to stand on the mattress to give him room Sam literally tears the offending garments off his body. It's sudden and the sound of ripping fabric makes her eyes widen but then she watches the way his hard cock bounces out and Leah can't help the way her face turns red at the sight.

It's sticky, glistening with precum while also being rock hard and clearly excited and Leah can't stop herself from running one of her own hands down her frame and giving her cunt a rub, fingers sliding over her hard clit and folds and with her standing Sam is allowed to watch every moment of her playing with her pussy as she stands over his body. He's entranced and Sam feels one of his hands moved, itching to do something… anything to settle the burning flame in his gut.

Leah forbids the action, moving back to sit on top of him once more but inside of simply straddling him she kneels, one hand rubbing her cunt as her juices soaked her fingers while the other moves to grip his cock. Sam squeezes his eyes shut again, his thighs twitching and his mind falling apart and he'll admit never did he feel so weak, needy and useless except when Leah had him and so with actions like these of course it felt like his world was crumbling in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Look at me Sam.” She purrs, voice as smooth as butter and as sweet as honey and Sam knows he's broken but he forces his eyes to open. They are lidded and as Leah squats over him he feels his eyebrows furrow. He feels so close… as if he could cum just from the sight of her holding her wet pussy open above him but he has to hold on, has to keep it together even though being like this with her was like throwing his body in a swirling pool of aphrodisiacs. It's when her cunt finally touches the head of his cock when Sam whimpers again, biting his lip hard as he tries to patiently wait and Leah seems to notice, giving her hips a playful little wiggle before sinking down and when the head of his cock slips pass her entrance Leah moans, her mouth falling open and her own eyebrows furrowing. Sam's toes curl and he lets out the most delicious of whines and even though he wants to just slam himself in the rest of the way he lets her take her time sliding down his cock, inch by inch until she full of him, her mouth panting and eyes deep red as she stabilizes herself by placing her hands on his chest once more.

It's so good. Sam's nails are digging tightly into her skin now and hard enough to leave indents as if after everything he's terrified of her pulling away now that he was submerged and fully so in her warm, fleshy, throbbing wet walls.

Leah sits there for a while and no, Sam doesn't want to rush her but he growls as they sit there, breath ragged and eyes crazed and just as he gets ready to break and say something… she raises her hips before slamming them back down, his cock slowly being freed except for the tip which she hugs just as it seems like his cock is going to slip out of her and Sam whimpers, biting his tongue, begging her with breathless pleas to not pull away, to leave him here stranded and he's so grateful when she slams back down, sitting until he's completely balls deep again. She moans loudly, his cock just teasing at that sweet spot located deep in her and as she shudders and shivers, twitching in every way against and around him Sam lets out a loud guttural sound being connected to her, rolling his hips firmly and holding her tight as his cock jumps and twitches inside of her.

“Oh fuck Sam..” she says now being the one who whimpers and she rolls her hips hard, grinding and savoring the way his cock presses against her fleshy tunnel before she raises her hips again though this time she lowers back down quicker than she had previously and Sam gasps at the feeling and in no time Leah seems to set the perfect pattern. She ruts and bounces, his cock glistening with their mixed fluids and their breathes mingle and fill the room in a mix of growls, moans and whines from each of them.

Just like that, all control seems to be snatched from the room.

Sam thrusts from his position on the bed and as he holds her hips he can hear just how sloppy he's making her, can feel her hot juices dripping onto his skin like molten lava burning through him and he doesn't dare stop, not now and not ever. The sounds are vile, unholy… any attempt at keeping quiet before had been long forgotten as Sam pounds her pussy with no mercy, fucking her so hard and so fucking good that Sam finds that he really is the one in control even while she's on top of him though…it's was only right.

As if he's taking it out on her Sam grows tougher with her body, fucking her until Leah can't help but pull her hands away to cup her breast, playing with her hard nipples with the most beautifully lustful face he's ever seen in his life. She tweaks them, pinches them and Sam surges forward without thought of he watches for a while, his breath ragged before he wraps his lips around one of those taunting nipples and making Leah arch and moan loudly, and as Sam wastes no time taking advantage of her fumble he leans up, hands wrapping around her lower back and hugging her so closely. Her hands move from her breasts to give him more room in order to kiss, bite and suck on her chest as much as he liked and instead move to wrap around his shoulders again, nails running down his back while her other hand tangles in his hair and it only spurs the alpha male on. Sam continues to pummel her insides, fucking her open until there seemed to but not one single thing he hasn't touched with his cock and until Leah was the one begging.

“S-Sam! Sam oh God Sam… oh fuck!” She gasps and compared to how neat she usually looks it is clear that he has in fact managed to return the favor… the passion, the love, the dominance that she so desperately craved every waking moment of her life and like he promised he would from the moment the first laid eyes on each other. Her cries, her sobs of pleasure had him close before he knew it… his cock threatening to spill, to burst like a wet balloon right into her just to claim her like he always did.

He enjoys listening to her noises just as she did with his own and his punishable pace seems to show exactly how much he liked it, his cock ramming into those sweet bundle of nerves that always seem to make her lose her mind and just as expected she jerks and keens at the feeling of the pleasure, the heat that came from them being so close and needy. She never wants to pull away and it's clear that as she thinks those things Sam can hear them too, grunting and hissing as her added thoughts of how perfect he felt drives him over the edge. The way she tells him to keep going, to fuck her harder, to slow down a bit when he seems to speed up too quickly too suddenly pushes him over that edge. The one that he's been teased of so relentlessly ever since the beginning of this moment between them and Sam lets out a shout, gripping and holding her and making sure he was completely inside before his cock twitched heavily and then squirted with hot and thick semen that makes Leah cry out loud as his orgasm pushes her towards her own and the second his cum shot into her her pussy twitched violently and then she was coming too.

It's so ground breaking, the way the orgasm ripples through each of them as if tearing through the very seams of their persons and Leah grips, folding under the pressure as overstimulation settled in her bones from the impact all on its own.

Sam continues to buck, balls slapping against Leah's ass as he snarls and cucks her until he's sure he's split everything in her and then they slow down, their hips rutting and bucking slower and slower until all they can do is pant heavily. Leah puts her hands on each side of Sam's head again while the man continues to hold her, her eyes heavily lidded as she tries to gather her breath, her cheeks still red while her cunt can't help the way it spasms around his softening cock. Sam slowly opened his eyes which had fallen shut without him even realizing it. His chest rises and falls heavily as he moves his gaze up, looking up to Leah in those eyes of hers that he loved so, so much.

They look at each other for a while, her eyes staring into his own as if she was truly hypnotized by him, sweat on her skin and her cheeks so beautifully red and they both seem to move at the same time after a moment without either of them thinking and the second her lips met his Sam felt his eyes flutter shut again. He groans, arms around her and holding her close, hands tracing and running over her warm and now wet skin and Leah moans in return as she clings to him equally as hard as he was to her. They can't seem to help themselves, both breathless and tired from such a rough and intense round, yes but they seem to kiss each other as if they both feared it'd be their last. Leah's lips are so soft, so addicting to Sam and he just wants to kiss her to the end of time.. until nothing else remains but him and her.

He can't even remember how they had gotten like this, tangled up in each other's hands, arms and lips but he doesn't care either. What he does remember is that he definitely fell in love with Leah and that he very much still was so. He hates the fact that he's put her through so much and over something he had originally felt he had no control in but the longer he stayed with Leah, his mate, and loved her in each and every possible way that she deserves then he believed she could fix him like she's done many times before and many different cases now. That she could completely wipe Emily and the memories that came with her from his mind altogether and that's all he wanted because there was only room for one girl in his mind and currently she was in his lap, smooching him so lovingly while she cockwarmed him in her love tunnel.

Sam finds that every time they get like this he actually feels full, as if nothing else could possibly make his life any better than it was when she was in his arms and when he was in hers. Even outside of the sex he finds it; finds that he doesn't enjoy watching someone like he does with Leah or being around them consistently like he does with her. Never before has he managed to grasp the concept of mates until she crossed his path and ever since they first met Sam had never been the same, as if her mere presence had been enough to tear the ground from under his feet from the very moment they took notice of each other.

No one was like her and even when he was with Emily that's all he could think about… Leah and how much he missed her, how the only real reason he was wasting time with Emily in any way was because Leah had taken that time to leave him and remind him of one of the most important lessons in their clan. The one that was based on loyalty and truth and Sam had to admit it was a good refresher. An amazing reminder that Leah was his and he was Leah's for a reason.

“You're mine forever Sam…” she breathes, panting against his lips as she holds him.

“That I am. Yours forever and always Leah…” he replies, rubbing her back soothingly now as they and their bodies calmed down a bit and Leah gives him a cheeky grin as she hears him say that.

“That's a good boy Sam~” she teases lightly, giggling when he seems to huff in light hearted annoyance; her giggles turning into full laughter as he now moves to roll them over again, kissing her face, then her cheeks and down to her throat so he could lazily run his lips over her throat before pulling away again moments later, smiling as she weakly giggled now.

“Leah..” he hums and she purrs in response.

“Yes Sam?~” She replies, curious to see what he'd say next and as Sam smiles at her Leah finds herself returning the look.

“Please shut up...” He says and she can see that playfully irked look on his face and upon doing so she bursts into another fit of laughter and Sam groans, shaking his head a little as he can't help but laugh with her.

He really does love her so much.

[chocobo-latte]

"You've Always Been My Home"

Having a family of his own had never really occurred to Kenma before. The thought of caring for children was nerve-racking; anxiety-inducing even. They screamed and cried, and they got snot and candy on everything which included gaming systems and Kenma did NOT have the patience to keep that from happening. It wasn't that he disliked dirt and messes, he just didn't want his gaming equipment ruined.

Plus, he wasn't even the parenting type. He spent all his time gaming or working, went to bed at ungodly hours, and didn't do anything that would cause him to unnecessarily use his limited amount of energy.

That, however, changed when Kuroo came back into his life. It'd been three years since he'd seen his best friend, the older male having moved away when he started college. They'd kept in touch via texting and phone calls, but then they'd both gotten busy, and the texts and calls had started happening less and less. So Kuroo showing up at his door with a fourteen-month-old in his arms had been unexpected, to say the least.

They'd needed a place to stay and how could Kenma say no? He had been his best friend after all. Kuroo had told him that he'd tried Akaashi and Bokuto, but they had their hands full with their three kids, two of which were under the age of one.

So they began staying with him, moving into the extra room in his apartment. And weirdly, things were fine, much to Kenma's surprise. The first few days his anxiety had been on high alert, but after seeing how calm and well-behaved Akane was, he'd begun to relax. She did from time to time, reach for his Switch or his Playstation controller, but her hands were never usually sticky or wet with drool when she did, and if they were, Kuroo would stop her and wipe her hands first. He'd tell her "you can't touch those with dirty hands,' and soon she was going up to him when they needed to be wiped.

That had definitely helped Kenma relax even more.

Kuroo promised they would be out of his hair soon, but that had been six months ago. He kept saying the same thing about once a week. He didn't leave. Didn't make a move to do so. Kenma wasn't sure why he was so eager to find a place. It couldn't be too hard for him to find a place, he knew he made good money. He couldn't find himself caring. Kuroo could stay as long as he wanted.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was glad that Kuroo seemed to be putting off leaving. He knew he wouldn't be able to live without him AGAIN. And he and Akane had begun to bond, much to the blond's surprise. They'd shockingly become close, Kenma thinking of her as his own child. Thought of all three of them as a family. He wouldn't be able to live without her either. And he knew if Kuroo moved, things may end up like they had last time; losing touch, never speaking again. So he kept silent.

He kept silent until a month later. Kuroo had given him the same 'promise' once again and Kenma's curiosity had got the better of him. So he asked, "Are you just saying that or do you mean it?" That had come out a lot harsher than he'd meant it and he didn't miss the way Kuroo winced.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you've been saying the same thing at least once a week for eight months, but you never make an attempt to leave." Kuroo opened his mouth to respond, but Kenma quickly stopped him by beginning to speak again, "It's not that I don't want you here, I do. I love having you and Akane around, but I just don't know what YOU want. You say one thing, but then do the opposite."

"Have you considered there may be a reason?" At Kenma's blank face, he continued, "I can't stand the thought of losing you again, Kenma. Do you know how miserable I was when we weren't talking? Or that I was so far from you to begin with? Nothing ever felt right without you. Nothing. But now…being here with you, everything just feels right again. Maybe that’s why I keep putting off moving out."

"You were miserable without me?"

"That’s what you focus on? Yes, Kenma, I was miserable without you. Wherever I was I never felt comfortable or happy. The only bit of happiness I felt these past few years was when Akane was born. But everything else? No. None of it made me happy and it was because I wasn't with you."

Kenma gulped, mouth having gone dry. "So…what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I love you Kenma and I've loved you for so fucking long. And I don't want to be without you anymore. I keep putting off moving out because this is my home, you're my home. You've always been my home…"

Kenma didn't even let him say another word. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down so that he could press his lips to his.

"Then stay. Don't ever leave me again."

[rourkeoriain]

The gorgeous girl who had spent the entirety of her first ten minutes in the tiny Edinburg pub being accosted by a toothless would-be thug gave herself away with her kindness and her patience more than her wide doe eyes and air of soft innocence. The Scottish underworld was ugly. Far too ugly for something as beautiful as her.

The only thing worse than being in the wrong place of the wrong part of town at the wrong time of night was not knowing who you were there with. The pretty stranger would find that out quickly if Rourke had enough sense to mind his own business. But when the thug put his hand on the woman after she tried to move away, the young O'Riain lost his senses completely.

"If you want to keep that hand, I suggest you remove it."

Both sets of eyes blinked at him and he tried not to linger on the stranger's pretty hazel. He leveled a hard stare to the goon, daring him to protest.

"What." The guy snorted, mocking. "You gonna cut it off?"

The thug rolled his eyes and Rourke felt that O'Riain switch flip deep down inside. In the next breath he put his pistol on the bar top between them and squared his shoulders. "I've done a lot worse for a lot less." He wasn't typically the bragging type but it was nothing but truth that he'd gotten to where he was the hard way, in the gutters doing the Family's dirtiest work. "Wanna try me?"

The guy muttered and mumbled, cursing the O'Riain name as he finally backed off and threatening something about how he also had powerful friends.

"Are you alright?" Rourke motioned to the bartender to refill the woman's drink and leave the bottle on the bar.

"He said that being a guest of the O'Riains made me valuable." The woman stared into the reflections of the dim bar lights on the shining bar surface as she talked. "He called me an asset." She swallowed audibly and Rourke sighed. Of course she was a guest.

"I don't know how you wandered here, miss but I'm going to have to take you back." Rourke drained his glass and slid a stack of bills, far more than what they'd dranks worth, across to the man behind the bar with a respectful nod as he pulled his tight leather bomber back on and shrugged his shoulders to adjust the fit. His fingers idly played with the zipper as he tried not to startle the girl but also resolved not to linger. "S'not safe outside the estate for guests of the Family this time a'night."

"I don't want to go back to the estate." Kate blurted without meaning to, then awkwardly adjusted her hair behind her ear and tried again. "I just wanted to see the lower town. After such a long flight I couldn't stand be cooped up again."

Their eyes met. Rourke studied the almost shifting colors in her hazel eyes. He tried not to trace the gentle slope of her nose or the full curve of her lips. Gods she was lovely.

Rourke checked his watch with a huff, shrugged and then held out a hand. "My name is Rourke O'Riain, by the way. And there's only one place I can guarantee your safety that we could go."

–

Edinburgh didn't have the world class high rises of modernity, all steel and glass. But the rest of the world didn't have Edinburgh's history either.

"No freaking way." Kate, as he'd finally learned, seemed to love the land as much as he did. She had her face pressed to the glass of his absurdly tiny sports car the entire drive up the Scottish coast to Castle Rock, the city's oldest and highest point. "You live here?"

"I have holdings." Rourke replied, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as they idled, waiting for the massive iron gate tucked into one crook of the mountainside foothill slowly opened. "Family stuff."

He hoped that would suffice but couldn't help his little sigh. It was all a bit strange and he wasn't sure Skye would love her guest at one of their safe houses but at least he wouldn't have to explain away a firefight or get stuck burying more bodies any sooner than necessary.

"It's just for the night." Rourke's eyes were soft, softer than Kate expected even in the low light. It was all so much. They pulled into a spacious garage but Rourke motioned for Kate to sit tight until the massive steel doors sealed behind them. "Sorry about that." Rourke cleared his throat and swung open the driver's side door. He was at Kate's side just as she reached for the handle. "Protocol. We can go in now."

What seemed like a dark cavern slowly illuminated, as if the building itself had sensed their entrance and welcomed them with a soft warm glow. "There's more beds than you can imagine and the fridge and cellars are always full. You're welcome to help yourself to anything." Rourke stripped his jacket, leaving him in a tight white tee and tighter dark denim with pristine black leather boots. "Any guest of the family is family. If there's anything you need-"

"Anything I need?" Kate looked at Rourke like he'd grown another head. "You saved my life and brought me here and you're asking me if there's anything I need."

Rourke laughed, a warm sound that vibrated his chest. They both liked it. "Should I demand payment instead?"

He was joking, or at least he thought he was but the way her dark hair caught the moonlight streaming in through the sitting room's wide windows made his breath hitch.

"It'd be more reasonable than just this." Kate wrapped her arms around herself, clearly beginning to feel out of place and self conscious.

Rourke couldn't begin to imagine how strange her last 24 hours must have been. "I'll make you a deal, Katie." His blue eyes twinkled with the nickname. "I've decided that the cost of my saving your life should be a single kiss." He smiled at the shock in her eyes and the smile grew when she didn't immediately back down. "It's just a game. You don't owe me anything, Ka-"

"Okay." She blurted. "Okay. I'll do it." Her smile was small but she felt emboldened. "It's just a kiss, right."

"One kiss," he assured her.

Kate stepped closer, smiled and closed her eyes. What the hell, right.

Rourke smiled, tucked a lock of soft hair behind her ear, and dropped to his knees in front of her.

He chuckled as her eyes flew open and one of her soft hands found his shoulder. "Rourke- What?"

"Katie." Hed still stop if she wanted him to. He was pretty sure he'd do anything she wanted him to. But he bunched up her skirt in his hands and smiled up at her because he just had to try. "I never said where."

[awynter]

Seeing him writhe beneath her touch was intoxicating in a way that made a wave of shame wash over her. This was far from ladylike. This was far from the respectable, subservient woman she had learned to be over the last ten years. But it felt so natural. She wanted to please him, wanted him to want her with every fiber of his being, the way she wanted him.

Was this what it felt like for George the first time he'd showed her what to do? The intense rush of excitement and shameless lack of self-awareness that came with the territory? She didn't dare assume that Ben had encountered many moments like this, but even she was surprised by his surprise. Was she being too forward? Was she behaving too wantonly? She didn't want him to think badly of her, not now, and yet she couldn't help but think this is what men wanted. Surely, it's what he wanted, too.

His words elicit a soft chuckle as she shook her head. “Believe me, Benjamin Tallmadge, I have other plans for those infernal quips of yours. This, though, is for my own enjoyment." For a moment, the light dampened in her eyes and a flash of concern crossed her features. "I can stop, if you wish."

His body's reaction was enough of an answer for her and she bit the inside of her cheek to quell the growing grin. The last thing she wanted was to be too daring or too obnoxious, and yet she couldn't help but tease him, even in moments of pure intimacy. Some things would never change, she supposed.

"No, a truly cruel and diabolical woman would stop, collect her clothes, and go home." Slowly, she began to move her hand again, pausing every few strokes to tease him further. "Luckily for you, I fully intend to finish what I started. I'm just not in any rush." Anne narrowed her eyes as she asked, "Are you?"

Her eyes widened for a split second before her lips pulled into an amused grin. Most of their relationship--or all of it, really-- had been centered around talking, and teasing, and joking. The fact that they had finally gotten to a point of comfortability, to a point where they didn't need words to express their emotions and desires was arousing in its own way.

“Where?” She raised her eyes to meet his as she kept her question short and straight to the point. His thumb brushed across her lip and she sighed. It was startling how badly she wanted him, how desperately her body yearned to take him inside and make him hers. Parting her lips, she gently took his finger into her mouth, the corners twitching upwards as she lightly sucked on the tip of his thumb. After his skin was sufficiently coated in a light layer of saliva, she pulled away and prodded again. “Where do you want my mouth? You have to tell me, or show me.”

Although he had suggested that she stopped talking, Anne wasn't sure how she was supposed to continue her acts of seduction without teasing him in a verbal way. She knew she was pretty, but she'd always been more confident in her wit. After all, Anne was pretty confident it was her wit that had bonded them in the first place--that, and her incessant desire to fluster him. Sure, she knew what she could do with her body to make him relax, and what she could do to his, but she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to know that he wanted it, that she wasn't overstepping their boundaries.

“Here?" Turning her cheek, she pressed a soft kiss to the pulse of his wrist, a strikingly innocent gesture compared to her other, more lascivious acts. "Or here?" With her free hand, she lightly grazed the skin of his thigh again, fighting to maintain an even expression as her heart raced. It was a testament to her patience, she thought, that she wasn't climbing atop him and smothering him with her own kisses.

"...Or maybe," With painstaking slowness, she leaned her head down lower again, whispering the word against the sensitive skin of his erection as she fluttered her lashes. "Here?”

Benjamin wasn't accustomed to being in such a position -- both literally and figuratively -- and gaping back at Anne in shock, he tried not to succumb to the sting of guilt at seeing her on her knees.

No, no, he wished to tell her, you don't have to...

But then her fated, "I want to," echoed back in his head, ringing with a firm insistence that was as arousing as it was endearing. Although his initial instinct was to ask why she would wish to degrade herself by being on her knees, he knew the answer because he, himself, would gladly lay himself at her feet, should it mean pleasing her. Benjamin only wished to see Anne happy -- he loved her -- so by that same school of thought, could it not be possible that she wished to do the same for him for that exact reason?

Without warning, Anne lowered and pressed the wet warmth of her mouth against his thigh, causing him to twitch and subconsciously buck his hips. He wanted more of it, but rather than fist a handful of her hair, he grabbed the edges of his chair and exhaled, his chest quivering once she pressed an accompanying kiss to his other leg.

"God," he whispered, shaking. "Is this because of all my infernal quips? Are you intentionally provoking me?"

In truth, he was shocked he could even speak at this point.

Anne's expression turned sly with faux innocence. “Do you want me to stop?”

Benjamin scoffed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip once she bloody well stopped stroking his hardness. Writhing with impatience, he arched up with the hopes of getting her to keep gliding her touch along his length, his breath taut and fitful in his lungs as he swallowed. "Anne Wynter -- Shawcross? -- you are a cruel and diabolical woman."

With a pleased little smirk, she leaned down and pressed a kiss against his tip, a jolt searing through him and causing Benjamin to gasp and flinch in his chair.

“Just tell me what you want and I'll do it. I'm yours.”

Panting, he peered back at her through heavy-lidded eyes and smiled, the expression awed and incredulous. "I...I think I'd like you to stop talking, for one," he teased. As if soothing any potential insult, he reached up and cupped her cheek with his palm, lightly grazing his thumb along her full, sensual bottom lip.

Eyes bright, he shyly confessed, "I'd like...I-I want..." I need "...your mouth." Blushing fiercely at such an admission, he swallowed, and his throat bobbed low as they locked eyes. "And then I want you...just you, and whatever else you wish to give."

[dominantslasherking]

Heyy! Hope you doing good. Okey what about a reader with Hannibal Lecter who is his patient who have anger issues, and Hannibal is helping him building some patience with cockwarming.

(sorry if is confusing but is kinda difficult to put the thought into words with english not being my first lenguage)

Hannibal Lecter with Dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+.

Throwing your head back, you let out a huff of anger, as you waited for your physicist to be done with his current client so he then could move on to you. Sure you were early, but you couldn't help it, if you didn't come here you were probably going to burst out in anger, and tear apart your house.

Your nails slowly began to scratch against the waiting chair, evidently making marks.

You watched with relief as the short man came out, finally done with his session. You have been seeing Dr. Lecter for a while now, maybe about a month? To be honest, it was the best process you had gotten so far with a psychiatrist.

"Dr. Lecter." Your voice echoed out, as he was quick and formal with greeting you. "Hello, Mr. L/n, please come in." Hannibal offered his hand for you to take, taking it quickly, as he guided you inside, Your gaze stuck on him.

Sitting down you leaned into the chair, uncomfortably squirming as Hannibal stared you down. "Your impatience turned to anger really fast, didn't it? While you were waiting." Hannibal spoke, as you simply nodded not surprised at how he read you so well.

You let a sigh escape your mouth while speaking, "Well, many things urk me and make me angry, it's just too hard not to lash out or anything." You lulled out, your sharp gaze landing on Hannibal.

"I see, amongst these things, is waiting, the most aggravating?" Hannibal smirked already knowing the answer but it was confirmed as you bobbed your head up and down.

Hannibal's gaze drifted off you for a second, as he gave a gentle smile and spoke, "I have the perfect solution,"

<<>>>><<<>>>><<<>>><<>>><<<>>><<>>><<>>><>>><>>><>>>

A hot and deep breath of air left your mouth, your hands placed on Hannibal's waist, as you gulped down on your saliva, trying not to thrust harshly.

Your hard cock laid firmly still inside Hannibal's tight and puckered hole. Hannibal sat on top of you neatly resting on your lap, as he had a book in his hand.

"I just--" Your hands squeezed Hannibal's waist, not enough to injure or harm him however you were running rather thin with patience. You wanted to prod your cock deep inside his warm, and tight hole so bad.

Hannibal slightly moved his body, to get more comfortable as a groan passed your lips, as you eagerly thrust with slight anger at him not moving. As you were about to thrust once again, Hannibal firmly put pressure on your thighs and lower body, for you to not thrust.

"It's, rather rude to dig inside me without my permission after all I am just trying to help you." Hannibal's stern voice coldly rang into your ears, as his head was lifted up from his book, as he spoke.

"Mm~Sorryyymmm~" Your voice slurred out, as you tried to relax your body, however, your hard cock did not go down even for a second, as Hannibal's wall squeezed your cock harshly. It seemed he purposely tightened his hole, to get you even more riled to see if you would thrust.

"Focus on your breathing, when you get angry like this, try to clear your mind." Hannibal slowly spoke out to you, noticing how harshly you were breathing from the anger of not being able to wait.

You started to intently listen to your breath, trying to clear your mind, however, it was not easy because Hannibal constantly tightening his puckering hole.

The next few minutes, of you doing this repeatedly, Hannibal finally gave you permission to thrust every few minutes, but you had to be gentle or he would up the time of how long you needed to wait until you could thrust.

realizing how much the thrusts were just making you sexually frustrated, you finally caved in, and just let Hannibal sit on your cock, without you complaining or eagerly wanting to thrust inside him.

[jackson--t]

How to take care of your drunk Alfie

Part 2, kind of. Drunk Tommy is here.

Tommy took a hard drag on his cigarette, and with an annoyed roll of his eyes tugged on Alfie's hoodie; he at least managed to stop Alfie from running into the street, and pulled the much heavier man back onto the sidewalk.

"Alfie, damn it. Enough is enough!" Tommy snarled, heartbeat already at 180 for what felt like the tenth time that day. Alfie snorted softly; he ran with a slightly uncertain motion through his beard, swaying slightly before joining Tommy and putting his heavy arm around his shoulders. Tommy exhaled softly. Not far now, he thought, and pulled the collar of his jacket higher.

"What's enough?" Alfie replied with a low grunt, his eyes more poorly fixed on Tommy.

"Your behavior. I'd have liked it better if we'd taken a cab."

"Why a bloody cab, Tommy? The world, eh, the world is out here, and the moon is fucking shining...somewhere… and I don't fancy blowing twenty bucks up some bloke's arse. Huh?"

"It's taken us twenty minutes to do this piece now. It usually takes us five.", Tommy remarked, raising his eyebrows as Alfie narrowed his eyes slightly and seemed to be thinking hard. His heavy body swayed again, and Tommy had to put his arm on Alfie's stomach, for support, to keep him from stumbling again.

"Five. How, Tommy, how do you think of five...and why the fuck twenty?"

"Alfie...you tripped twice, tried to pee in a bush once, and threatened to beat a squirrel."

"No, I would fucking never do that."

Tommy snorted in annoyance. He pushed Alfie further, who was already trying to stop again, and pulled him along with him. They weren't far from home now, and Tommy just wanted to go to bed.

Alfie drank very rarely, less often than he did, certainly. But when he did drink, he always drank too much, and was not quite as accurate in his estimation of his abilities. Most of the time, Tommy made sure Alfie didn't drink too much, and occasionally sneaked him a glass of water - but today, somehow, he hadn't been able to. Ada had distracted him, Polly, the family.

"We'll be there in a minute. And then you'll go to bed first," Tommy said quietly, already rummaging in his jacket pocket with an awkward movement to find the key; which wasn't easy, because Alfie stopped again.

"I don't wanna go to bed yet! Are you crazy... We'll make something to eat. I could make soup, huh? Could I?" Alfie said blithely, raising his eyebrows as Tommy eyed him with an annoyed look. He laughed softly as Tommy pushed him on wordlessly.

Cooking, so-so. Alfie certainly wouldn't be able to do that in this condition, like anything else. It would be a miracle if Tommy could hoist him up the stairs without Alfie making an avalanche of it or crushing him. The last few times he had only gotten him upstairs to bed with extreme patience and half a tantrum, where Alfie had fallen asleep after two minutes, snoring so loudly that Tommy had been unable to sleep.

They reached the front door. Tommy had to put the key in twice because Alfie kept trying to take it away from him; when the two of them were finally in the hallway and Tommy closed the door behind them, Alfie wrapped an arm around him again, pulling him closer.

"Or, we'll go to bed, and I'll fuck you really fucking hard, Tommy. Good idea, innit? I love it when you're pissed off. Fuck, it makes me bloody hot," Alfie purred, slurring slightly, and took Tommy's chin somewhat awkwardly between his thumb and forefinger to look at him. Tommy returned the look, and despite his inner annoyance, couldn't help grinning.

"If you make it up those stairs on your own, I'll be extra hot for you," Tommy muttered, and Alfie grinned widely.

"Nothing easier than that." he said, and put the first foot on the stairs, jacket on and all. Tommy exhaled deeply and stared at the ceiling. This could be a long night.

It was going to be fifteen minutes that it took them to get up those few stairs. Tommy was on the verge of a nervous breakdown because every two seconds Alfie would stop at a different picture on the wall, telling him the story behind it, all of which Tommy already knew by heart. He had to pull hard on Alfie's hoodie twice to keep from losing his balance and falling down the stairs; once the seams had almost cracked, and Tommy had gotten hot and cold at the same time. He didn't need a workout, ever. Alfie was more than any sport or boot camp rolled into one.

When he finally hoisted the big, heavy man into the bedroom, Alfie yanked him along, and Tommy sat down on his lap with a slight bite on his lower lip while Alfie lay with his back on the bed.

"You, Tommy?"

"What."

"Do you actually know how good it is...that we're...this...well, what we're in, and Cyril, and everything...that this, and I really mean it, is totally fucking good?" Alfie murmured. He had his eyes fixed on Tommy's face, which probably looked like it was after the war, as many times as he had run his hand through his hair; still on the stairs he had smoked a cigarette because he had had to listen to the story of the Jewel trade for the hundredth time. It was worse than any meeting. But sometimes, sometimes there were beautiful and honest words in Alfie that he only said when he was drunk. Like the ones he was trying to babble now.

"It would be far more wonderful right now if you hadn't been drinking so much."

"Hmm... Tommy, do you think Fynn is taking good care of the dog?"

"Of course."

"Tommy...don't you...don't you think it's time...to take it a step forward?"

Tommy froze. His fingers, which had just been stroking Alfie's chest, paused at the small letters on the hoodie, and he looked at Alfie with slightly parted lips.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly, feeling exactly how his heart beat more violently. He had wanted a lot, and some for a long time. Alfie and he had been together for a long time now, and still Alfie hadn't asked him. Not that Tommy ever wanted anything like that... But somehow, as soon as the subject came up, he got nervous inside. Excited. He swallowed slightly, and tapped Alfie lightly against the cheek, who was already dozing off slightly again.

"What kind of next step, Alfie?"

"Well..." Alfie muttered; he grinned briefly, then suddenly pulled Tommy closer to him by the hips, and with a sudden movement turned them both so that Alfie was lying on top of Tommy, breathless, while Tommy looked at him with slightly flushed cheeks. Fortunately, Alfie didn't see this in his frenzy, because Tommy would never give him that satisfaction. It was enough for Alfie to know what he could do to him when he was sober.

"Alfie!"

Alfie stopped Tommy's words with a soft, breathless kiss that sent a pure tingle through Tommy's stomach; he exhaled slightly as Alfie's lips parted and looked questioningly at his boyfriend from below.

"On to bed, of course. You thought otherwise, kid?" Alfie grunted.

Tommy tried to hide his tight-lipped, stupid disappointment; his eyes passed over Alfie's face briefly, then his eyebrows drew together, and he pushed Alfie off him. The big man rolled to the side, laughing softly, but Tommy turned his back on him. He didn't care if he slept in his clothes - only he was guaranteed not to hear another word from Alfie that night.

Alfie, on the other hand, put his warm arms around Tommy from behind, and just a second later Tommy felt the pleasant warmth of Alfie against his back, and the way he breathed softly against the skin on his neck. And even though he smelled more like gin than his aftershave, Tommy still loved it, even if he remained lying provocatively turned away.

"Tommy...?"

Tommy pressed his lips tightly together and snuggled closer to Alfie; but he didn't answer.

"I love you.", Alfie mumbled slightly sleepily into his neck, and Tommy had to smile slightly despite his inward anger. "I love you too," he whispered, closing his eyes.

It took a moment for Alfie's breathing to quieten; then he suddenly murmured a soft "Soon…" in his ear, and heat just shot through Tommy's body. He felt Alfie's arms wrap tighter around him, and how after a few minutes he was snoring lightly again.

Alfie Solomons and his damn timing. Tommy groaned in annoyance and patted his pillow, knowing full well he certainly wouldn't be able to sleep with that thought in his head.

Masel Tov.

[usopp-writes]

Whitebeard pirates week - day four: Late night together

Authors note: I have so many ships for my favorite characters and this one is one of them. This little drabble isn't all about romantic love, I just couldn't help myself, as I missd writting this couple together. When inspiration hit you, you have to follow the flow.

Anyone ever tried making soup from scratch? I can tell you it takes time and patience.

@whitebeard-pirate-week

Thatch x Izo with Marco, Ace and Haruta SFW Word count: 801

Normally Thatch wouldn’t pull an all-nighter, but tonight he did, as he was making soup from scratch, which would then be frozen down for later use. He didn’t make soup during the day, there wasn’t time for it, and so he did it at night, where he had the time to keep an eye on it. It didn’t need him to watch it all the time, but leaving a stove on and then leave it, wasn’t an option. So he sat at the small table, reading or writing. The crew had started to go to bed, the silence slowly fallen upon the ship, as Thatch sat there, a cup of coffee in front of him. He would make another batch later, when he was running out of it.

He stretched and went over to the stove, stirring the bones around a little. There were eight of the largest pots on the stove (40 liters), filled with broth that later would become soup. There were three chicken, three beef and two fish broth. Sadly he didn’t have more large pots, someone destroyed the other four of them a few weeks back and he hadn’t gotten to a place where he could buy new ones, so he had to do one beef and one fish only this time. Normally he made four pots of each. It sounded like a lot, but in reality it wasn’t, considering that the crew was 1,600 men large. Not all ate soup though.

Sitting back at the table, he let his mind wander, but he didn’t get far, as he heard the door to the kitchen open. Looking up, he smiled, though did have a confused look on his face, when he saw Izo entering the kitchen. It was rare for the male to be here, less alone be out at this hour. Normally Izo would be getting ready to bed by now, if not already snuggled under the blankets, Thatch next to him. More so to see his lover with his hair down, lightly braided, though he still wore his kimono and make-up. It looked like he had begun his nightly routine, but decided not to finish.

“You know the bed gets lonely without you there, darling.” Izo said, as he closed the door behind him.

Smiling warmly, Thatch pulled out the chair next to him. Izo smiled back, sitting down next to his lover, giving Thatch a quick kiss on the cheek, before placing his head onto the cook’s shoulder. Thatch wrapped his arm around Izo, kissing his head. He was happy that Izo was here, happy to feel his warmth so close. It would be lonely in the hours waiting for the soup to cook and then pour it over in bowls that could take the heat and the cold temperature of the freezer, for then to wait for it to cool down enough to get into the freezer.

“Like it gets lonely without you here.” Thatch smiled and pulled Izo in for a long and tender kiss. They might be cheesy, but they didn’t care.

A light cough made them look up, seeing Marco at the door, casually watching the two. “If want alone time together, just say so, yoi.” The phoenix chuckled, before he walked over to fill the cup in his hand with fresh coffee.

“Marco, Izo, you’re already herer. I managed to wake up Ace, though he might just …” Haruta started, but was rudely interrupted by said firecracker.

“I might fall asleep again, but you’re not going to have a late night party without me.” The freckled male entered the kitchen behind Haruta with a pout on his lips.

Thatch laughed and rose, finding a fifth chair, while Marco grabbed some more cups. Izo went to the pantry and brought forth some booze and snacks. He knew exactly where to look for the good stuff. Thatch had a secret place in the pantry where he hid his good rum and snacks. Marco and Haruta also knew where it was, though they wouldn’t tell Ace where it was. There was a reason that there was a lock on eh door to the fridge, freezer, pantry and the storage room.

Not long after the five friends were indulged in some game, chattering, eating and drinking. Poor Ace got his face doodled on by Marco and Haruta, while Thatch and Izo used the distraction to steal a kiss from each other. When the soups were done, everyone helped Thatch with pouring them into the bowls, before another round of games started.

It wasn’t often Thatch had these all-nighters, but each one almost were the same. His brothers would always come to keep him company. He loved these nights, they were so special to him and it told him just how they loved him.

[elisethetraveller]

Thankfully, the break was not so bad that a cast was needed; the healer was unsure if she had anything useful for mixing a plaster. On the other hand, Elise had plenty of experience creating a brace out of what was on hand without compromising the brace's effectiveness. Nimble hands fished out a few straps from a drawer as she resigned herself to looking for something long enough to stabilize the entire bone. Then Viktor's deep breath caught her attention.

Turning, she could only listen as Viktor explained himself: magic and metal. There was something foreign to that, a chill alien to her magic that ran as naturally, warm and organic, in her as her own blood. The image of the smashed flowerpot made whole again flashed behind her eyes—inorganic but whole again. At some point, the piece she had collected for the brace returned to the table she had gotten them from, though her attention never wavered from him.

The implication of his words was not lost on her because there was little implication to them. Had Viktor done this himself, if he continued to do what he had done and had evidently stopped doing, the people he helped would be lost. The mage had not questioned the gravity of when he had first said he held the potential to doom his world. But there were many ways for a world to end, and few were as enticing as ending the world through healing and kindness.

"You are wiser than most." The compliment came out biting, and she cringed at her own words. Her face scrunched up as a scared hand ran through her hair, and Elise sighed, disappointed at herself. The words were genuine. The healer had far too often seen people cart around their sick and injured loved ones when she was right there. But they refused, decried, her help. And they let their loved ones die.

"That is to say, you are not wrong." This time, the words came out softer, with more kindness and patience. Would he actually listen to her? See that she wasn't evil or power-hungry? The hope felt too good to be true. It never worked out like that.

Her eyes met his, actually seeing him now, and the silver that looked back at him was soft, worn and tired, but not hostile. "I can heal him if you permit it. The blood magic will push the bone to mend as it naturally would at an...accelerated rate." She couldn't recall having ever explained this to someone. "There will be no muscle atrophy from the process, no scars or visible marks. Though Luon will probably feel hungry afterwards." The little joke hung in the air, fragile and alone. An olive branch. An attempt at moving past their fears.

 She knew things about the body that could normally only be ascertained through experimental imaging techniques found in hospitals. Like him, she was able to detect the source of the pain, though she had the words to explain what it actually was. To him, it had felt more like a bent beam, or a deviated rod. Mechanical failures, rather than human injuries. He might have become a mage, but he was born an engineer. An inventor.

 But then, she stopped, her hand pulling back from Luon in a display of caution. He knew why. He had no other reason to explain it. It was because of him. Had anyone else brought the boy, she might have been more comfortable doing what came naturally to her. In front of him, she wore a mask so obscuring that it was hard to see the kind and calm woman he had met before. Again, guilt’s sharp teeth sank into his Hexcore heart.

 He didn’t have his interpreter here. Sky was occupied with staying in the commune and providing her presence to the other members. He had no one there to guide him through the difficult interaction, but he was resolved to fixing this on his own.

 He fell quiet when she began to explain the mundane method of setting the broken bone and letting it heal on its own. The idea of forcing Luon back into immobility for weeks, after he had spent most of his life without both legs to rely on, was plainly unacceptable, especially when her talents were so readily available. His gaze lowered to the hand he held in consideration of his words.

 Before he could say them, he was hit with a question, and not an easy one, either. His shoulders tensed as he took in a deep breath through his subtly crooked nose. “I take what is broken, and it is replaced by magic and metal.” One of his hands moved to lightly brush over Luon’s uninjured, but clearly augmented leg. “But there is a price… Every time I Heal them, they lose more of themselves,” he explained, sounding like it was the first time he’d said it out loud. A pit immediately bore into his gut. “They become too close to the visions – to the future I seek to prevent. I cannot heal every wound they sustain.” Especially not the more significant ones, like broken bones or mauling flesh wounds.

 “But you…” He finally looked her in the eyes, regardless of if she met his gaze. “I have a feeling you can heal him without such a high risk,” he said in a reserved voice. “I would not wish him to needlessly suffer for weeks in recovery when your skills are within reach.” He knew how it must have sounded, to come crawling back after having forced such terrible fear into her heart. “If it is true, and there is a chance… I will not let my hurt breed more senseless pain.”

[concubuck]

((Hey y'all have another ficlet from Alastor's early days as a succubus. Why? Just because. Set in between Alastor's first attempt at having sex and the first time he has sex successfully. Warnings for mentions of alcoholism & noncon; and also mild aphobia in the sense of "these two dopes don't know what asexuality is so they're trying to compare it to medical disorders."))

✨ Alastor Visits The Doctor ✨

Alastor had detoxed from alcohol in the 1980s. Before Rosie had helped him cut himself off, he'd been living with a bottle constantly at his side and blacking out on a near-daily basis—never mind how often he was drinking himself to temporary brain death on purpose. That week of withdrawal—the week of non-stop shaking, of sleepless exhaustion, of heaving sickness, of creeping crawling hallucinations—was the worst physical agony he had ever known to that point, worse than his near-fatal bout of Spanish flu, worse even than dying.

By now, after thirty-odd years and apodiabolosis, withdrawal was a far, fuzzy memory, one Alastor recalled more as a series of vague facts than he did as something that felt like it had happened to him. But the misery, that delirious misery—he imagined it must have felt something like this endless, interminable arousal.

But unlike withdrawal, there was no promise of coming out the other end of this arousal. No light at the end of the tunnel. Just the tunnel. Dark, muffled, ever-narrowing, claustrophobic, and weighing ever heavier on his soul.

Alastor was still trying to figure out how he could verbally explain the oppressive weight of this need, when the door opened and the imp doctor walked into the examination room.

Alastor automatically hunched forward, arms crossed over his lap, trying to conceal his boner in spite of the flimsy medical gown that felt as thin as tissue paper.

The imp took one glance at Alastor, rolled his eyes, and muttered, "You couldn't have taken care of that before you got you came in?"

The mutter scattered Alastor's mental attempts to corral his suffering into a narrative. His brittle patience developed another couple of cracks. "No, doctor," he said testily, "I couldn't take care of it before I came in. That's why I'm here." 

"Hm." Clearly not satisfied with Alastor's answer, the imp tossed Alastor's medical file on the small desk in the examination room, but didn't take the chair yet. "You do realize I'm a real doctor, right? I graduated from medical school?"

Alastor blinked at him. "Yes. I do realize that," he said, speaking slowly and pointedly.

With the same slow and pointed tone, the doctor replied, "That means I'm here to offer medical care to real patients. Not to indulge... whatever the hell medical kink you've got."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I don't know what kind of doctors you've had before—if they're grateful for the break or what—but I'm getting paid to practice medicine, not to do whatever—"

Alastor laughed in disbelief, loudly, harshly, angrily. "You expect me to believe that's really a problem you deal with?! Or do you just—assume that when a succubus walks in?!" His patience snapped sharply in half. "My dear doctor, believe you me, if I could have come here without a stiff, I would have! But if I had chopped it off and left it at home I am quite afraid you'd have elected to treat my blood loss instead of the ailment I came here for! And chopping it off is the only way I could have shown up without a stiff, because it hasn't been flaccid in nearly six months! Which! Is! Why! I'm! Here! Now are you going to keep making—disgusting insinuations, or are you going to..."

Alastor didn't realize he'd gotten to his feet and advanced threateningly on the doctor during his tirade, until he had him backed against a wall and was looming over him. The doctor stared up in terror at Alastor's face... and then, slowly, his gaze rolled down to the thinly-concealed erection inches from poking him between the eyes.

Alastor spun away from the the doctor, face heating—it felt less like a blush and more like a raging fever—realized that the gap in the back of the patient gown (which he'd been unable to fit right over his wings) probably exposed his ass crack—and he ended up awkwardly shuffling sideways away from the doctor to sit on the exam table again. Look at him. What a pathetic, undignified sight he was. Half a year ago, the Radio Demon was the most feared sinner in Hell—what was he now?

"I'm sorry," Alastor muttered, hunching forward again, elbows on his knees and arms crossing in an X to shield his shame. "You understand, I'm—under a significant amount of—distress. I, uh—I don't mean to be a difficult patient." Now he was even groveling.

But what was he going to do if his outburst caused the doctor to refuse to treat him? This was the only affordable hellborn doctor within walking distance of Alastor's rental; he didn't know what he'd do if he was kicked out.

For a moment, the imp was silent; then he said awkwardly, "Yes, in fact. That really is a problem I deal with. I mean, succubi trying to..."

Alastor nodded stiffly. "I see." He wondered whether the imp had truly been solicited by kinky succubi masquerading as patients, or if Alastor was just the first one to get outraged enough to break through the doctor's assumptions. He grudgingly decided to give the imp the benefit of the doubt. He didn't have any other option. "Rest assured that regardless of what my anatomy might think, there is nothing I want less than to have sex."

"But—you can't get rid of your erection."

"Not without physically removing it," Alastor confirmed. "Such as by chopping it off. Or reconfiguring the whole thing into a vagina—but the arousal persists, that's the real problem."

The doctor ventured, "Skilled with magic?"

"Off the charts."

"Still. You shouldn't be castrating yourself without a doctor's supervision."

It was such a mild chastisement. Hellborn doctors were less easily scandalized than human ones. "Believe me when I say—" he kept his voice calm and even, "—I would not have resorted to such extreme measures if the alternative had not become psychologically unendurable."

The doctor paused, then tentatively took a seat, flipped open Alastor's medical file, and made a note. 

Alastor let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Can you orgasm?"

"Yes. It makes no difference. My arousal remains the same."

"Hm. For six months, you said?"

"Nearly," Alastor said tiredly. "Short a couple of weeks, I believe."

The imp opened his mouth, and Alastor was sure he was about to ask what had taken him so long to seek medical help. But instead, the doctor paused, and then asked: "Did you experience anything medically unusual within the month before your symptoms started? Illnesses, head injuries, unfamiliar narcotics, orgies...?"

"I." Alastor shrugged. "I became a succubus?"

The imp stared at him, then quickly flipped to consult another page of Alastor's medical file. "Oh."

That didn't sound promising. "'Oh'?"

"Sorry," the imp said, "sorry. You're, uh—you're just the first humanborn patient I've—first ex-human humanborn, I mean. Obviously I've seen humanborn sinners, but—but not..." He gestured vaguely.

Alastor's heart sank. "So, you can't—?"

"It's fine," the doctor insisted. "It's covered in medical school! You can be treated like any other succubus. Biological differences are—superficial. Aside from a few cosmetic differences..." His gaze slid up. "Are... Those are ears, then?"

"Yes." Did he think Alastor's hair looked like that on purpose? "Is that relevant to...?"

"No! Just—just wondered." The doctor cleared his throat. "Ah. So."

"So." Alastor could feel his hopes falling by the moment.

"This isn't a change so much as it is, uh... the norm for your tenure as a succubus," the doctor clarified. "Correct?"

Alastor nodded.

"I'm sure you were told that succubi's libidos are much higher than other demons? And you're basically going through a succubus's puberty on fast forward?"

Fast forward. He turned the phrase over in his head. He would have said it some other way—like an LP set to 78 rpm, maybe—but he caught the meaning; and he felt old. He nodded, "I'm aware. I was prepared for that. Which is why I didn't come in five months ago. But the adjustment period is supposed to only last two to three months, and I'm arguably worse off now than I was then. Everyone I've spoken to says this is—abnormal for a humanborn succubus. Abnormal for any succubus." His voice trembled with the effort of keeping it even, calm, collected. Clinical and detached. Like he wasn't scared out of his wits—and horny on top of that. "You have to understand, I haven't had a minute's peace in half a year. I can't sleep, I can't cook, I can't dance—I've been losing weight because I can't focus long enough to stand up and walk to the kitchen or call for delivery. I didn't venture farther than my own porch for months. I've tried everything to satiate my needs. Nothing's worked.

"What have you tried?"

Alastor hesitated, running through the list in his head, trying to figure out how to answer the question without being uncouth.

The doctor muttered, "Right. Human," and set his pen down. "Listen. I understand humans have different taboos, but I treat succubi. Hellborn ones, I mean. You could tell me, I don't know—that you've been getting off by smothering baby puppies in your asshole—and I've probably heard worse. So."

"Right," Alastor murmured. He had trouble shaking the instinct to couch his language in terms appropriate for a hypothetical listening audience, some family sitting around their living room radio receivers and ready to write station management if he said anything too uncouth. His only audience was a doctor.

A doctor who had taken one look at Alastor and assumed he'd gone through all the time, effort, and expense of dragging himself to the only hellborn doctor in this side of the city because he wanted to fuck him. So to hell with what the doctor thought of him. "I started with masturbation, obviously," he said. "Hands, inanimate objects, toys—as many shapes and materials as I could find, both manual and electric, the full spectrum of realism..."

"I'm sure you know that toys aren't usually enough for succubi?"

"Hope springs eternal." One corner of his smile quirked up sardonically. "I know, I know—I saw the 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here' sign on the way into this lousy joint."

The doctor gave him a quizzical look. "Sorry?"

"Never mind. Maybe that's only funny to sinners." Alastor suppressed a sigh. "And then I tried tentacles—I've got an extraplanar friend—"

"Sapient?"

"Yes—distant relative of the Von Eldritches, I believe."

The doctor looked duly impressed, and it was the first thing about this entire meeting that had felt right to Alastor. He was supposed to impress people. "Those, uh... entities are supposed to be fairly effective at dispensing sexual gratification. But...?"

Alastor shook his head. "Damn thing went through one end and out the other. I had tentacles in holes I didn't even know I had. In the end it gave up in boredom and frustration." That was maybe anthropomorphizing its motives a bit too much; but Alastor couldn't think of any other explanation. It had never before given up on any of Alastor's requests.

The doctor pursed his lips as he made another note. Alastor had the sneaking suspicion that it was this that finally convinced him of the severity of Alastor's issue.

"And after that, I tried people. First prostitutes—humans, then succubi—and then..." Alastor trailed off.

"Anyone other than prostitutes?"

Alastor hesitated. "Yes."

"Old sex partners?"

"N... no. I've..." His throat went dry; he swallowed hard and attempted to sound normal, "Found people and—forced them." He'd rather have admitted to murder. 

The doctor only said, "Most succubi get better satisfaction from established lovers than from hiring prostitutes or rape."

The last word felt like a slap; the nonchalant way the doctor said it made it feel like a gentle caress of a slap, which was even worse. Alastor forced himself to keep his voice even. He didn't want to be the one of the two of them who was more disgusted by his own actions. "I'm aware. I don't have any established lovers I could have called."

"Tried any exes?"

"I have never had lovers," Alastor clarified. "I did not have sex as a human."

The imp gave him a dubious look. "You've been celibate for..." he glanced at Alastor's file, "a hundred and twenty years?"

He huffed out a sigh. "In the eighties, I received a tentative diagnosis of..." He shut his eyes for a second, trying to remember the term. "Hypoactive... sexual desire disorder?" (The imp gave a tiny nod of recognition.) "Tentative because I never bothered to pursue a full diagnosis or treatment, because I had no interest in developing an interest in sex. So, no. Before becoming a succubus, I never had sex before. I never lusted before. Not in any way I couldn't take care of with my hand in two minutes. What?"

The imp was staring at him. He quickly shook his head. "Sorry, you've—never had an interest in sex? Not even any... desires you didn't have the opportunity to fulfill? Fantasies? Paraphilic interests—unusual objects or acts that bring sexual gratification?"

Alastor shook his head impatiently. "Never. Nothing. Not anything." Were they going to get stuck on this? If this doctor got hung up on the idea of treating Alastor's alleged HSDD... Hell, if it might lead to him getting him some relief, he'd consider it. But they weren't going to get anywhere if the doctor thought Alastor was lying about his disinterest. "Are you familiar with Kinsey's studies of human sexuality? I was sorted into Category X in the fifties."

"Uh, pff—I'm not intimately familiar with Kinsey's..."

"'Equally disinterested in sexual contact with both sexes; no attraction, no desire to experience—'"

"Right. Okay, that—checks out." The imp nodded. And then went still, chewing the corner of his mouth, brow furrowed in thought.

Alastor stood the silence as long as he could (which was about ten seconds); and then he asked, "What?"

Slowly, the doctor said, "I've seen patients without naturally occurring lust before—it's pretty common in some rings, but..." He trailed off again, tapping a claw on Alastor's paperwork. "For most persistent arousal conditions in succubi, the treatment is based on figuring out what it is they crave that they're not getting, and finding a way to supply it. I'm—I don't know what the treatment is for a succubus that doesn't crave anything. If the challenge here is to satisfy a craving that doesn't exist..."

If only the sex he desired could satiate a succubus's appetite, and Alastor didn't have any desires—then was this hunger, by definition, insatiable? Alastor's blood ran cold. He had to fight to speak around the knot in his throat. "Then, is—there no treatment—?"

He would have liked if the doctor had hastened to reassure him. Instead, the doctor was silent for a long moment, like he was wondering that himself. Finally, he pulled out a fresh paper and started writing, muttering, "We'll do some blood tests—rule out the possibility that it's a hormonal issue. And I can refer you to a specialist to get a brain scan, in case there's anything up there."

"How far away is the specialist?"

"Not too far; maybe thirty minutes by bus."

Quietly, Alastor said, "I can't ride the bus like this."

The doctor stopped writing. "... I'll see if there's a closer clinic."

Alastor nodded, staring hard at the tile floor. He was afraid that if he looked up, he'd see pity in the doctor's eyes.

###

Alastor got a full physical exam. He came twice. The first time he coped with the humiliation by biting his lip and unflinchingly staring down the word Tuesday on a bland wall calendar and pretending it hadn't happened. The second time he claimed he had to make an emergency restroom run and bolted from the room, and hid there until his hitching breathing was under control and he'd stopped shaking. The imp said nothing either time. At least he'd been convinced this wasn't Alastor's kink.

And he got a full patient interview. He described his magical capabilities and how he'd been using them on his body; he described how often he switched his sexes or outright amputated his genitalia completely—it was important to know, the doctor insisted, since what bits he had affected his hormone levels. The doctor tried to criticize Alastor's drinking habits, his irregular sleep, his poor takeout-based diet, his dearth of exercise and fresh air. Each time, Alastor had to remind the doctor that in his state he couldn't sleep right, couldn't cook, couldn't go outside—and he knew, because he'd attempted all of them as distractions—and the only distraction that did help even a tiny bit was drinking. He was well aware of the consequences, he'd spent a decade at the bottom of a bottle and almost two decades sober, and he'd damn well change his drinking habits when it stopped being preferable to the alternative, thank you.

And he got his blood test. The doctor cautioned that, as much as Alastor manipulated his anatomy, it might be difficult to find anything conclusive in his hormonal results. They scheduled a follow-up blood test in a couple weeks, with strict instructions for Alastor to keep his God-given banana and coconuts exactly where they were until then, and that might give them more useful blood results.

"And you've got your referral for a brain scan," the doctor said, gesturing at the papers sitting on the examination table beside Alastor. "And for a physical therapist." (During the physical exam, he'd noted the poor control Alastor had over the wings caught awkwardly in his medical gown. The wings were the least of Alastor's concerns.) "And in case it's a psychological issue, if I can find any therapists who have treated humanborn succubi, I'll get you their information. Otherwise, I've got a list of succubi therapists you can contact."

Alastor nodded along to each statement, jaw clenched and arms crossed tightly, sitting on the examination table. He felt like he'd been stripped bare in a hailstorm: cold and exposed and raw-nerved.

"And before you come in for your next blood test, I'll look into... less common causes of persistent arousal in succubi. I've never heard of a succubus with hypoactive sexual desire—or without desires altogether—but—well, I'm sure it would present very differently in a succubus than in other demons. If it even naturally occurs in succubi at all."

As opposed to unnaturally occurring, as it had in Alastor. "You think it might be because I'm ex-human."

The imp shrugged helplessly. "Right now, we can't rule it out."

"Then there would be precedent, wouldn't there? In other ex-human succubi? Has—has that been studied anywhere, post-apodiabolosis medical conditions?"

The imp shrugged again. "Maybe. But—frankly, there probably aren't a lot of humans who don't love sex that choose to become succubi."

Alastor wanted to disagree—he'd done it for power, he imagined most other ex-humans did it for the same reason—but less than a dozen sinners a year were chosen for promotion. The infamous Radio Demon might truly have been the only human in history powerful enough for his lack of a libido to not disqualify him.

The thought that Alastor might be the first ever succubus stuck with an insatiable libido should be chilling; but over the course of his appointment and examination he'd gone numb to the mounting dread. He just nodded again.

"It's just—" Staring up at Alastor in bewilderment, the doctor said, "I don't get it. Why the hell did you decide to become a succubus if you didn't want to have sex?"

If Alastor had a nickel for every time he'd been asked that in the past few weeks. He cracked a pained smile. (Had he stopped smiling?) "It's funny, really. I thought the fact that I'd never needed sex as a human would spare as a succubus. I thought it would give me an advantage." His laugh sounded like a broadcast from somewhere far away. In his ears, it sounded like a sob.

If he didn't need the doctor's help, he would have clawed the pity out of his eyes.

The doctor dragged his gaze from Alastor and back down to his notes, like he was searching for something else he could offer. Finally, he said, "Vitamins. I'm going to prescribe you some nutritional drinks. I can't make you cook, but supplement the takeout with the nutritional drinks." He made another note and looked up again. "And... I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

Nutritional drinks. Nutritional drinks and a whole list of other doctors he had to talk to, none of whom would know what to do about his unique, one-of-a-kind insatiable libido. And that was it. Alastor couldn't remember ever needing so badly cry. He wanted to double up and wail until he hyperventilated.

He sat upright. He smiled. He said, "Let me know if you find anything new."

[ageofevermore]

Adore You

summary → in which Harry goes away for a few weeks and upon his highly anticipated arrival home your daughter doesn’t recognize him. 

word count → 1.7k

note → this was meant to be set when Harry’s in Italy, but I screwed up so he went to Miami instead. 

add yourself to my taglist 

Harry had been away for weeks, leaving you home alone with Goldie and a recently adopted goldfish named Finn. The coast of Miami was beautiful from your little corner of the world back in London but from speaking with Harry so frequently, his experience had been filled with bad luck and pissed teenagers. He had been productive in developing new business relations, but he missed you both immensely.

Goldie wasn't handling the separation well either. She had spoken to Harry on the phone nightly, but even then she was inconsolable between every nap and clung to your torso desperately. Your little daddy's girl was in desperate need of a proper cuddle, yet the man for the job was oceans away.

His flight was set to come in Monday, narrowly avoiding a wicked storm as it passed directly over London. Goldie had been reassured for weeks upon weeks that Daddy was coming home soon, but every night she pitched the same prompt that he was lost at the shops.

Her sweet worry had come from memory of a trip down to the shops a few months back with you and Gemma. She had dropped her favorite stuffed animal out of the trolley and had gone hours without saying anything, only when you got to the car did you notice the missing stuffed elephant.

You promised her night after night that Daddy wasn't lost at the shops, but every morning her little green eyes filled with tears upon his prolonged arrival home. When Monday came it would have the same reaction as Christmas, only making the wait even harder to bare.

The sun was setting overtop of London, signaling another bedtime prep filled with sniffled and mindless babbles. At almost two Goldie wasn't all the interested in talking. She could formulate coherent words and short sentences, but you and Harry knew her expressions well enough to cater without verbal assistance. Some would consider her spoiled, and you couldn't completely disagree.

Bath time had become an acoustic concert, Fine Line playing softly as yours daughters preferred lullaby. Her little green eyes were barely open as she soaked in the overpriced bath bubbles, your hand never straying far from her back in fear of her tipping over from exhaustion. When you had drained the bath water and covered her little body in Harry's sworn by lavender baby magic lotion, she was asleep against your chest in minutes. The night was stripped of routine whining and crying, and that almost made it worse.

She just couldn't understand that daddy was coming back. Three weeks was the longest she had ever gone without him, not that she would remember his absence having been a newborn, but this four week excursion was weighing on her patience.

You went to bed that night with a heavy heart, ready to have your husband home and warming the bed beside you.

-

Monday had finally come.

You had woken up that morning to Goldie. It had been months since your daughter woke up crying, startling you into consciousness. Your first instinct was to grab the baby monitor, but that had been forgotten downstairs after a fight to the wash room last night. Rushing to your toddlers aid, your baby was laying on her stomach, reaching for the two pacifiers she had dropped over the edge of her crib.

"Monkey." You cooed, catching her attention. Your palms were up towards the ceiling, ready to pick her up and hold her close. At this point you were just as desperate for Harry as she was, and cuddling with his mini-me seemed like the best coping mechanism. "I miss Daddy too." You promised her, allowing yourself to tear up briefly.

"Dada?" She pleaded, clammy hands pushed against your cheeks and squishing your lips together into a fish pout. Any other day she would have laughed at your tight featured, but her little eyes were filled with too much sadness to find humor. "'ome?"

"Yeah. Daddy's coming home." You promised, nuzzling your nose against the soft blush covering her cheeks. She didn't seem to believe your promise, not that she had in the four weeks since he left, but she laid her head down on your shoulder and let her lashes flutter anyways.

Your morning carried on as it normally did, however it was hard to push aside your desire for Harry. Breakfast had taken thirty minutes, whereas it typically took close to an hour. Goldie was fussy, you were running low on diapers, and the laundry had still yet to be done. Tasks were piling up as weeks went by without your best mate helping you along.

You had set Goldie up with some cartoons in the play space downstairs, finally getting to the cutlery keeping home in your dishwasher. It couldn't have been six minutes since you stepped away, but already had your curious toddler gotten into something. The sound of plastic hitting the wooden flooring an obvious give away to her clumsy discovery.

"Bubba." You cooed, bending down to your toddlers level when her eyes filled with tears. She had just dropped a cup of water all over herself after whining that she didn't need a lid. You couldn't find the strength to be cross with her trembling face, so you forgot about the puddle on the floor, instead cuddling the confused and frustrated mini-Styles to your chest. "A few more hours, Gold."

After you had fixed her up with Harry's new merchandise and requested princess slippers, she clung to you miserably. Her nose continued to rub against your collarbone while curious fingers shoved into your shirt and held tightly to your bra. She had been doing the same thing for months, finding comfort in being so close to you.

You had sorted through a load of laundry with her in your lap, curiously poking at the warm clothes as they came from the dryer. She had tried to help for a few minutes before tugging at your shirt, little eyes begging to nurse.

You had only just pulled your shirt back down and over your bra when the front door opened. Just over two months ago Harry had gotten the rusted hinges fixed, therefore giving him the capability of sneaking up on the two of you.

A grin broke out across your face, wanting nothing more then to rush into the arms of your husband, but having to be mindful of the fussy baby on your hip. You set Goldie down, thankful that she didn't wiggle her way back into your embrace, and turned her body towards Harry. He was dressed in your favorite grey sweatpants from Nike, and a black shirt, his worn adidas shoes loosely tied around his feet.

"Whose that, baby girl?" You cooed, brushing your fingers through her golden locks of hair. She giggled, ready to run when suddenly her face crumbled and she fell backwards into your embrace. Your brows crinkled, looking up to share a worried frown with Harry.

Goldie had never had that reaction towards her Daddy.

"Monkey," You cooed, "What's a'matter?" You picked her up, holding her tightly against your chest with panicked thoughts.

Walking her closer to Harry despite the increasing volume of her terrified sobs, your husbands heart looked like it had shattered into a million pieces. His hands, usually adorned with a multitude of rings were bare, and clammy as he wiping down the sides of his sweats. You passed the toddler off to him, wincing when she desperately grabbed a handful of your hair.

"No Mama." She cried, reaching out for you. You had seen her get worked up with strangers before, but that was always during tour when somebody would grab her from Harry after sound check. "No."

"Calm down, Petal." Harry tried to soothe the toddler, a hand pushing her face into his neck the way he knows she loves, "Just me, s'just Daddy."

You scanned Harry sadly, watching him try his hardest to calm the waterworks. Your eyes fell from his, down to the sculptured patch of light hair above his lip. Your heart hammered when you realized why your daughter was so distraught, and you giggled. She didn't recognize him, used to his bare face or occasional stubble. Stepping closer to the struggling pair, you gently grabbed one of Goldie's flailing limbs.

"Look. Hey, hey we don't hit, Indie." You reprimanded softly, bringing her little hand up to softly caress Harry's mustache, "It's just Daddy. I know, he's got that silly thing on his face, but it's just Daddy."

Harry knew you weren't fond of his mustache, you had made that very clear the minute you saw the first picture. What he hadn't prepared for though, was the possibility that his little love wouldn't recognize him. She was quite skittish, much like he was as a child, but he figured with your anxiety, he gave his little Goldie quite the fright.

"Be right back, love." Harry handed you the clingy toddler, rushing off towards your en-suite with a simple kiss to the forehead. Your eyes followed as he went, but you stayed with Goldie by the door. You figured familiarity was best right now, having never been in this position.

It was a few minutes later that Harry came back down, freshly shaven and barefoot. Goldie had calmed down since he left, but her usually bright eyes were puffy and red.

"Look at Daddy." You cooed gently, coaxing her into turning her head and looking towards the man that loved her more then anything in the world. You knew that if push came to shove Harry's first priority would be Goldie, and seeing him so distraught earlier only highlighted his complete adoration for her.

The blonde toddler in your arms squealed, whining and reaching out for Harry to hold her. You grinned widely at your husband, happy to see them both so relieved and ecstatic. Once he was close enough for Goldie to reach, she thrust herself into his arms. Her head down his chest and her hands went to wrap around his ringlets, sighing contently into his hold. Her little green eyes red, but filled with such love and admiration.

"Dada." She babbled, leaning closer to place a wet, open mouthed kiss on his collarbone. She had done the same thing nightly, and Harry hated how much he missed his slobbery kisses while in Miami.

"Yeah, Daddy's home, baby love."