#I have had this FUCKING vision in my head and it gives me the power to wake up in the morning. xD

[iamthepulta]

so disappointed my poll didn't tell me to make my sleep schedule worse lol

ended up hopefully-fixing it by getting home from work and doing nothing but writing for like four hours and I'm going to rotate my laundry now and go to bed

3. Liztlie AU Chapter 23 is SO CLOSE. I have about three scenes left. It will be a monster chapter though, depending how much the edits add to it, I might split what I've written into 2 chapters. Looks like 19k rn.

4. I might continue writing straight into current Chapter 24. Probably won't, because I have the patience of a 8 wk old Border Collie, but the narrative should flow directly from one chapter to the other rn.

[writing-fanics]

don’t mess with the devil

Part ii

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: angst: mentions of death: death?]

Your movements became sluggish. The wound on your side bleeding more and more with each movement, and swing of your angelic weapon. “Can’t even hold a weapon.” Adam mocked, as she glared at him. Already tired and she looked down at her wound. “Who would’ve thought a fucking human, making a deal with the devil.”

“Was it for dick? It was for dick wasn’t it?” Adam laughed, and mocked. You let out a battle cry flying towards him.

You screamed in pain, as the yellow light shot right through your wing. Your wings started going weak, as you struggled to keep up with Adam’s attacks. He laughed and cackled, taking enjoyment in your struggle.

“Where’s your little boyfriend huh?” He mocked, as more and more yellow shots kept hitting your body. Until you could barely keep your body up, “awe, is he not coming to scared to show his fa-”a fist punched, Adam in the face. Causing him to let go of your chin, but you didn’t fall instead.

A pair of familiar arms held you, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t be here sooner,” said Lucifer, as he nuzzled his head against his partner. Then lifted his head and glared at Adam, eyes fuming with rage.

“Sorry, for being so stubborn.” You mumbled, knowing this was the reason he didn’t want you to fight. Even though, he gave you some of his powers. You were still a human. He nuzzled, his head against yours once more. “It’s okay,” He said, as he landed on the rooftop.

He handed you off to Charlie, his daughter taking your injured body into her arms. She looked down at you worriedly, as you took shallow breaths. Your face battered cuts and bruises covered your face, and your right eye was swollen. Landing on the rooftop, walking towards Adam.

“Huh? Okay? Seriously?” Adam panted, as he stood up slowly. “How many of you freaks do I have to fight?!” He shouted, glaring at them.

Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, as he walked towards Adam. “Oh, I’m the only one that matters.” said Lucifer, as he looked up at Adam angrily.

“See, you messed with my daughter and my partner.” his eyes burning with rage. “and now I’m toning to fuck you!” he shouted, and everyone went silent as they stared at him dumbfounded.

Charlie leaned over, “It’s fuck you up dad?” Charlie whispered, and he looked confused as he raised his eyebrow, “Wait what did I say?” He said, and then Adam flew towards him sending them both into a wall. But Lucifer transformed into a white snake.

You could barely keep your eyes open, as the pain became worse. You didn’t know how much blood you were losing, but knew it was a lot. You were just a mere human, a human who fell in love with the king of hell. Him inevitably giving you some of his power in an act of love.

Your memories of how you ended up in Hell, a blur. You still figuring out a way to at least see your family again. But now that seemed to be in vain. You wondered if this was how it was going to end for you. You wondered, what would happen to you a human dying in hell?

Would you be dead forever no second life? Or would you just enter purgatory?

“So, this is what you’ve been up to since Eden?” said Lucifer, taunting him.

“Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy.” He said, as he taunted Adam.

Adam laughs, as he grabbed Lucifer by the tail. “You judgin’ me?” He shouted angrily, as he tried to throw him. But he transformed again, this time into a duck. “You’re the most hated being in all of creation.” Adam shouted, angrily looking at him.

“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer.” said Lucifer, as he made a V shape with his fingers and dragged it downward from his mouth.

“or the second.” He said looking Adam straight in the face, “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.” He said, as he backed away making a thrusting motion with his hips. Adam lunched at him, and Lucifer transformed into a horse. Kicking him around, “I’ll fuckin’ end you!!” Adam shouted.

Your vision started to blur, as you leaned your head against the wall You didn’t want to die not like this, not without seeing your parents again. Wondering if they’re worried about their missing child, who they haven’t seen in almost a year.

You’ve been stuck in Hell for that long. Lucifer and You, still figuring out a way to get you back. But you always promised that you’d stay in Hell with him, and visit your friends and family once in a while.

Maybe this was to be your fate, dying in Hell. Where would your soul go? You couldn’t imagine the heartbreak your death would bring to both, Charlie and Lucifer. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them cry, you’ve grown to love them so much. Seeing Charlie as a child of your own.

Lucifer your partner. The best thing to ever come out of being trapped in Hell. He was so kind and caring, when he found out about your situation. Wanting to help you anyway he could, which led him to falling in love. How his heart swelled whenever you smiled at him, turning his cheeks red.

How seeing you cry made his heartache, knowing you missed your family and friends back on earth. How when that ‘Red Bastard’ at the Hazbin Hotel, took your hand and kissed him while staring mockingly at Lucifer. Boiled his blood.

A smiled grew across your lips, as you grew tired. You were too tired to even notice the beam of light, heading straight towards the hotel. Towards you. Everything went dark.

Y/n?

Y/n?

Y/n!

who’s calling my name?

[logansdoll]

thank you

you never thought you'd be murdered in the middle of an alley... but you also never thought you'd be saved by a man with knives in his fists so... yeah.

CW: suggestive, profanity, the dude that attacks you is clinically insane, Logan's a little socially awkward, your power is kinda bad but kinda good, etc.

It was amazing how quick your day could go from fantastic, to an absolute, fucking shit storm.

Waking up that morning, as you went through your morning routine, something in the air just told you that everything was going to go right.

Your curls turned out perfect after your nightly twist, your makeup flawless, accentuating your natural beauty, and your breakfast sandwich tasted especially delicious.

That, along with the relatively quiet day at the hospital, left you leaving work with a certain pep in your step that made you feel like you could take on anything.

So not once did you plan to end up in the middle of a dark alleyway, and not once did you plan to stand off with a shady, seemingly dangerous, man because of it.

You were too lost in the music of your earphones to notice you had taken a wrong turn, a rookie mistake to make so late at night.

A mistake you were currently cursing yourself for.

"Look," you started, hands up and voice calm in an attempt to placate the irritated man. "I didn't mean to walk over here. I'm just trying to get home."

Slowly, he stalked closer, stance low and beady eyes staring at you in a way that made your stomach drop, and blood run cold.

'Shit.'

"Please... I don't want any trouble," you continued, taking a few steps back, "Just let me pass."

He tutted in response, wagging his finger as a sadistic grin slowly rose to his lips, "People who trespass on my territory gotta pay a toll, sweetheart," he licked his teeth, words slurring together, "and I can see you got more than enough..."

Shamelessly, his eyes dragged over your body, the surface of your skin erupting with a feel of grime and dirt.

You'd need a serious shower when you got home.

If you made it home...

As he drew closer, your hand discreetly slid into your jean jacket pocket, latching onto the cool, metal handle of your switchblade.

You were hoping to de-escalate the situation, but with the way things were looking, you knew you'd probably have to fight your way out.

"I'm only gonna ask one more time," you warned, your tone curt as your expression sharpened into a glare. "Let me go."

Without warning, he let out a manic shout, charging for you at full force.

You let out a shriek of surprise, quickly moving out the way before he could tackle you, whipping your blade out your pocket and flicking it open in one fluid motion.

Quickly, he turned around, expression furious as he ran again, hands out in an attempt to grab you.

And as you tried to dodge, he managed to latch onto the back of your scrub, roughly throwing you to the ground with a grunt.

"Fuck!" you spat, head throbbing as you attempted to sit up, your chest pounding as he grabbed your ankles and dragged you closer.

Fear struck your heart like a freight train, and in a bout of panic, you swung your knife, plunging it into the closest thing you could reach.

He let out a roar of pain, dropping your ankles as he nursed his injured foot, and the handle sticking out of it would've been funny were it not for the dire situation.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, stumbling towards your purse which laid on the ground not too far away.

But the man took notice, his foot becoming a thing of the past as he chased you again, scooping up a large shard of broken glass as he ran.

"Get away!" you cried, hugging your purse into your chest as his charge backed you into a corner, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall.

Horrible visions of your fate flashed through your mind as he approached, images of your lifeless body plastered on the nightly news, or your smiling picture on a missing persons poster.

What a fabulous time for your power to chime in...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, when a loud shink and a pained grunt cut through the air.

Forcing your eyes back open, they landed on a figure, who stood over the dead body of your attacker.

The way the man laid, and the way he was injured, made it look as if he was mauled by some sort of animal.

'Holy shit...'

Pulling yourself back to reality, you realized the figure was now standing right in front of you.

He held his hand out for you to take, sharp, brown eyes flicking between you expectantly.

Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his appearance.

With his broad chest and strong jaw, you'd think he'd be on the cover of Sexy Bikers weekly, arms and legs thick with muscle under his leather jacket and blue jeans.

Your eyes met in an instant, an electric buzz shooting up your spine at his features.

From what you could see through the darkness, they were sharp, but strong and hard, handsome in their own rugged way.

His lips pulled taut in a line as he stared back, brows furrowing while his eyes flicked around you, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction.

Slowly, you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up to your feet.

"Thank you," you exhaled, shoulders dropping as relief finally sank in your shoulders. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come when you did..."

His arms came back to his sides, tiredly, as he awkwardly cleared his throat.

As if he didn't expect you to actually talk to him...

"What're you doin' walkin' by yourself so late?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble. "You got a death wish?"

The sound ignited something in you, a sudden flood of warmth rushing to your stomach, your reply nearly dying in your throat.

"I just got off from work... I wasn't paying attention and turned the wrong corner," you explained, choppily, the embarrassment of your mistake setting in.

It was a stupid one.

Especially for someone who's mutation gave her the ability to see the future.

Or variations of it, at least.

"You got a way to get home?" he asked, resting a hand on his hips.

His arms flexed with the motion, his bicep straining against the jacket sleeve, your eyes drawn to it almost instantly.

You'd never seen a man as handsome as him before, and while you felt bad for gawking, you were more concerned by the flurry of feelings swirling in your chest.

"Cab," you blurted, snapping yourself out of it, "I can hail a cab."

He nodded, smoothly and, to your surprise, silently, stepping to the side and out of your way.

You were ready to head back toward the street, when you suddenly remembered something.

"My purse—" Jittery, the man nervously shoved it into your arms, averting his eyes from your thankful expression.

Your gorgeous, thankful expression.

God, he didn't understand what such a beautiful woman like you was doing in a place like this.

"I found it on the ground over there," he cleared his throat once again, shifting his weight on his feet, "I put your knife back in, too. You might wanna wash it—"

Without warning, you pulled him into a hug, nearly sending his heart into a frenzy.

He kept his hands up, quite confused and unsure of what to do, especially since your impossibly soft cheek was pressed against his chest.

"Thank you... really," you smiled, warmly, as you looked up at him.

God, he was handsome.

Though, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.

"It was nothin'," he assured, awkwardly, as you backed out.

"I don't suppose I could learn your name, could I?" you asked, a small smile rising to your lips at his social graces.

It was adorable.

Someone so big and strong being so nervous.

Instantly, he tensed, completely taken aback by your bold comment.

Maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn your tone made it sound like you were flirting with—

"Logan," he blurted, stiffly.

You grinned, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, "(y/n)."

Slowly, you started toward the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes following you intently, "Well, Logan, I hope we meet again... Then I'll pay you back."

"Not necessary," he assured, shaking his head.

You paused your walk for a moment, turning to glance at him with a devilish glint in your eye.

"We meet again... I'll have something for you," you promised, crossing your fingers.

A shiver rolled down his spine at your words, and you continued on your merry way, exiting the alley and hailing a nearby cab.

Once he was sure you were gone, he let out a loud sigh, allowing his shoulders to sink and a tired hand to run through his hair.

You were something...

One conversation and he already knew you were going to be trouble, the smell of your perfume and the warmth of your smile already plaguing his mind.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before turning to walk out the alley.

But just as he stepped forward, he felt something under his foot, lifting it to reveal a necklace.

You must've lost it in the melee...

Carefully, he picked it up off the ground, placing it in his pocket before walking out the backstreet.

The next time he saw you... he'd have something for you, too.

[r3ynah]

I just like the idea of Red hood having a medic, that always finds him whenever and wherever.

Like my boy danny, can and will go to different measures, so he can just find the boss of the crime alley alive and well.

Getting hurt? No you aren't, patched him up and forcefully tucked him into bed with a kiss, Getting depressed? No you aren't, Wrapped him in a blanket and just let him read his novels all day and feeding him, Getting kidnap? No you aren't, Cue the corrupted video of Danny breaking in the kidnapper's lair and just freeing Red hood, No blood was shed that night, well not from Red hood that is.

Danny was something else Red hood will tell you if you ever bring up his Medic into a conversation, he would stare at the man with heart eyes as he accompanied him to do random check ups on people under Red hood's care in his civilian persona. Danny may seem weak and brittle but he can give a punch if he really wanted to, He was mysterious but at the same time so open.

Danny was prideful as he wore the medal of being the only one that knows Red hood's real apartment, and the only one that could break in and enter without getting his presence known, just to make sure the crime lord was sleeping and eating properly.

Red hood practically made a joke out of this and would always tell everyone that his medic will be mad, if he isn't in bed by curfew, and he needed to be back at his house by 10:00 sharp or he'll get dragged and thrown, who knew the all so scary crime lord had a bedtime, criminals and civilians often leave him be when the clock strikes 9:50 pm afraid of enraging the meta medic.

__

"I am telling you B, I can't do that right now, its almost my curfew." Red hood sighed in frustration, he was currently standing in the middle of the bat cave, ready to run if batman tried to talk again.

"This is an important, case Hood, and it requires your participation" Batman stood still, face devoid of any emotions " Afterall it has something to do, with crime alley, there has been a meta spotted, and its creating havoc all around the place."

Jason, blinked, blinked twice, then thrice

"Is that it?"

"Jason, can't you see that this person's dangerous, they had already committed several crimes of arson, assault, and destruction of property, this person is abusing it's powers."

"No im not." An offended voice, called out from the side. all head turned towards the source of the voice, only to be greeted by 6'1 tall boy, who had black hair and blue eyes, and looked just round in his younger adult years. "In my defense they deserved it, won't give me a discount when i literally had a coupon." he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Who are you?" Batman asked, his guard up "And how did you get in here?"

"Red hood's medic and the meta you've labeling as dangerous, nice to meet you, and it wasn't that hard to spot this lair if you have x-ray vision" Danny greeted happily offering a handshake, which the dark knight didn't take, Danny retreated his hand in awkward silence.

"That was so sad" Jason cackled, as he pointed at Danny who gave him the middle finger.

"Shut, Its 10:30 pm, your bedtime was like 15 minutes ago, you don't get to talk until you're taller than me." Danny pointed at him.

"Fucking funny, im laughing" Sarcasm was laced in Jason's tone as he glared at Danny, before giving a sigh. "10:30 already shit, time does fly fast, when you're fighting a man in a furry costume" Red hood stated, as he walked towards Danny who only rolled his eyes.

"Bye B, i hope to not see you anytime this week or the next week." He nonchalantly waved bye to the older male, while walking towards his medic.

he turned his head to meet Danny's gaze, then smacked his arm making the man stumble. "Come on, now boss man do your thing"

Danny gave him, a glare before shoving him playfully, he then turned to look at empty air and practically ripped out a dimensional portal out of it, and pushed Jason in it who tripped.

"Bye Mr.Batman, it was nice meeting you" Danny bid farewell as he closed the portal on the Man who looked like he can use a break.

[ratmonky]

Business Strategy

warnings: manipulation

word count: 1k

ao3 link

Some people needed attention, some people needed love and Gods needed to be worshipped. 

"You have been trending on almost every visual media and as a podcast topic. How does it feel to be worshipped by everyone?"

Everyone but you.

You look down at him as you sit on your desk with your legs crossed, an unnoticeable smile on your lips. The tip of his cock is glistening with precum that drips on the polished floor. He is impatiently rubbing himself while staring up at you, eyes like a puppy's, begging for you to continue.

"Good work today, John," you praise him, your smile getting wider as his hand around his hand gets faster. "If you manage to spend a single day without any casualties I might even pat your head and rest it on my lap."

He nods with his eyes wide, staring at your bottom as his mouth opens. You don’t scold or comment on him for using his X-ray vision. He has been working hard lately to make you so proud. Precious John. He wakes up every day to make his pretty boss happy and sits by her desk like an obedient dog, waiting to be rewarded.

His gloved hand moves hastily around his cock, it makes a squeaky sound with each stroke. It brings you out of your thoughts.

You continue to smile, watching him pathetically jerk off on another work day after giving his report of the day. You wonder what he is thinking about right now. A scenario where he sucks on your tits while he has his head on your lap and lets you jerk him off? Or getting fed up with your strange power over him and bending you over the desk right now? He would rip your tights and pull up your skirt, humping you aimlessly until his cock finally slid inside. Wouldn't that feel good? You wonder if he had it in him to even pull something risky like that but he would never risk upsetting you. 

Good little John. 

Begging to be yours.

You decide you want to reward him after the intense feeling of heat building inside your core, making your legs tremble and pussy leak. 

"I'll let you do whatever," you say softly, lifting his chin with the front part of your heels. His eyes are on you, clouded from lust. "Just tell me what you want, John." 

There is a smile on his face. "I want to eat your pussy," he says after clearing his throat. Nonetheless, his tone is pathetic and desperate, he cannot hide the excited expression on his face like he has been waiting for this moment all his life.

With grace, you spread your legs and let him rip your tights in the middle. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk and slides your panties to the side. He doesn't bother lifting your skirt and shoves his face in your crotch while proceeding to pump his cock.

The feeling of his hot and wet tongue against your folds feels heavenly after a long day of work. You tilt your head up and close your eyes to focus on how he moves his tongue. He kisses your pussy slowly, nose touching your clit. He slides his tongue inside you in an attempt to taste you and quickly decides against it to focus on pleasing you. His hand on your thigh squeezes the flesh and he tries to imagine how your ass would feel like on his cock when you finally would let him fuck you. He moves to your clit, lapping at your sweet spot and drawing tight circles that get smaller and smaller. 

You don’t want to admit it but it feels so good, you try to curl your toes but you don’t have enough space in your heels to do so, you let your legs rest on his shoulders. He keeps moving in a way that mimics fucking you and you find yourself imagining going against your own rule and letting him ravish you like he has been always dreaming about. 

As he gets close to his orgasm he loses the rhythm of his tongue and basically moves his head up and down as if he were nodding with his tongue rubbing wildly against your pussy. Your hands grip the desk harder and you let out a quiet moan. He laps at your cunt like a fucking dog and it just works. You feel the rush of an orgasm wash over you and your legs shake as he groans and cums with you. He groans and goes frigid for a second before letting himself sit on the floor to rest. 

There is a short moment before you jump down from the desk to fix your clothing and he follows your lead and gets up to fix himself as you return to your seat this time. 

"I expect another great day from you tomorrow, John," you say while starting to type on the keyboard of your laptop. 

"Yes, sure," he chuckles. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Night," you correct him, his smile disappears as you inform him about tomorrow. "I'll be taking care of A-Train in the morning. Noir has a short meeting with me in the afternoon and well, Deep has been waiting for weeks to have a meeting, I'll take him in the evening."

He frowns, his eyes losing any sign of life in them.

You sigh and roll your eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow night at my house, hmm?" You watch another grin creep up on his face, "Don't get any ideas unless you plan to do something that'll raise our profits by 30%."

He grins all the same, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then." Then he leaves unwillingly because he knows you're having a meeting with sponsors in an hour. 

The next day, you wake up to the news of Homelander selling his official Vought merch in front of the tower and giving interviews about his new show that will air only on Vought+.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (4/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The boy's death had devastated her.

Even though it was a strange child to her, in addition from a family she despised, it was still small and innocent – she had seen Prince Jaehaerys accompanied by servants escorting him to his morning classes when she herself had gone out to meet his uncle, to practice on Vhagar the commands as she did every day.

Knowing that her father had done this made her feel a partial sense of guilt for what had happened, though she did not understand why.

Was it because she was born of his poisoned seed?

That a part of him lived inside her?

She knew it was revenge for Lucerys' death, but after all, the little prince had nothing to do with it.

The death of an innocent being always hurt the most.

She watched his funeral procession from outside the windows of the Red Keep, from her prison that was her small chamber, thinking of her one-eyed cousin.

Were you with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to?

With your second mummy?

She didn't know why his lowered head, his face and big eye filled with tears of shame made her feel sympathy towards him.

However, the death of King's son made her reflect on her own life and what she had experienced in it.

She realised that she had lived for years as if in lethargy, spending her time riding horses and hunting, even though in the midst of her family, in fact always remaining alone.

She realised that she had never even kissed a man.

She had never experienced a touch that was tender, that was pleasurable, that made her feel safe.

She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.

Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.

From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.

She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.

She couldn't try to seduce him directly, offer to spend the night in his bed – he would send her away immediately, furious, knowing what she wanted to do and how she hoped to achieve it.

She had to show him what he could have, while at the same time not offering it to him herself.

She had to make him desire whatever she was in his mind.

"I want to ask you something, cousin." She muttered, standing over him with a jug of wine, wondering what she was doing. "And I know you won't like it."

She saw him freeze, looking ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He sneered, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet without even bestowing a single glance on her.

His vision was hazy, his mind dulled by the wine.

He was weak, vulnerable, heartbroken by what had happened to his nephew, sunk in guilt.

This was her chance.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly, and he sighed heavily, impatient, setting his cup down on the table.

"What do you want?"

She licked her lower lip, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest, cold sweat trickling down her back.

He would fall into a fury or fuck her, there was no other option left.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered.

She saw that he froze motionless, his healthy eye open wide in shock.

Oh gods.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked coldly, annoyed, however it was not as aggressive a response as she had expected.

He himself didn't know what he thought of it, she thought.

Good.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said with a certainty that surprised her, recognising that her directness was due to the fact that she was partly telling the truth.

He was silent for a long time, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his finger in some involuntary reflex began to tap against the table top.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force."

There it is.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said without stammering, his grin turned towards her making her feel an uncomfortable shiver.

"It will."

Finding a willing person turned out not to be too difficult: she simply lied to the man she found handsome that the prince liked to look at such things and that it was his idea.

What could he do to her for those words even if he found out about it?

Were they not partly true?

Her whole body quivered in excitement and disbelief as, lying beneath Tyland Lannister's servant, she heard his lazy footsteps, felt his gaze on them, the fiery, thirsty lips of her lover pressed against hers.

It was a surprisingly wet and slick experience, not as pleasurable as she had imagined, however, it was not all that bad.

She swallowed hard, hearing her cousin sit down in a chair in the distance, and flinched when the man's hand suddenly clamped down on her breast, causing an unpleasant chill to pass through her.

"– no –" She whispered, tightening her hand on his wrist. "– not yet –"

She exhaled quietly, closing her eyes as she felt him take his hand away, trailing it instead around her waist, trying to feel what she had felt when her cousin had leaned over her face after she had fainted.

Serve me well and I will reward you.

When the time comes.

She felt it, that wonderful pulsing between her thighs, and sighed, opening her eyelids, involuntarily glancing at him. Her breath froze in her throat, her womanhood swelled all over as she met his gaze, dark and hot, his legs crossed, his head cocked in curiosity.

She gasped, feeling a squeeze in her throat and a cold shudder when the boy's body suddenly pressed her against the bed, constricting her space, making her fingers tighten on the back of his tunic in terror.

Is this how it should be?

Should she be so afraid, feel so cornered?

"– slow down –" She heard his voice, deep and displeased – her lover looked at him, surprised, panting heavily.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated with a kind of threat in his voice from which her lips parted in disbelief, some sense of gratitude and warmth spread through her heart, a pleasant stickiness sweeping from between her thighs down her buttocks.

He was protecting her, she thought, feeling the situation begin to slip out of her control.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Make me feel safe, she thought pleadingly, but no words left her lips.

Shame overwhelmed her.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed the boy, her eyes grew big as she stared at him in disbelief – his nostrils twitched in excited breath, the corner of his mouth lifted in a dangerous smirk.

A sigh left her throat as the servant lifted her skirt and smallclothes, her gaze fixed on her cousin's face as his hand found her leaking, fleshy womanhood.

She moaned.

However, after a moment she flinched and swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers touch a very tender, sensitive spot, giving her pleasure and pain at the same time, not knowing what she herself felt, tears burning under her eyelids.

Why did it feel like this?

Why couldn't she enjoy it, why was she losing focus?

"– step back, boy –" She heard his voice, and then noticed that he moved towards them, startling her and him – she rose up on her elbows, panting heavily as he pulled her forward, sitting behind her back, pulling her close, his legs on either side of her body.

His arms embraced her lightly, his hand tilting her head back, allowing her to spread out comfortably while not taking away her sense of security.

She swallowed hard, feeling something long and hard pulsate behind her, pressing against her buttocks.

Good gods.

She gasped as she felt him press his nose against her hot cheek, his thumb running over her jaw as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, exposing her bare thighs.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over the skin of her face, making her feel a simultaneous shudder of pleasure and terror shake her, his hand trailing down the exposed skin of her thigh.

Lick her?

What did he mean by that?

What purpose did it serve?

"– what? –" She mumbled, terrified, involuntarily reaching back with her hand, clamping it over his long white hair, wanting to pull away, hitting his hard body again.

She had nowhere to run.

"– easy – let me take care of this –" He whispered in her ear, making her moan stuck in her throat, her nipples became hard at his words, her throbbing walls clenching around nothing.

Let me take care of this.

He knew.

He knew what she craved.

She stifled a breath as the man obediently leaned between her thighs, a terrified, pathetic, surprised moan escaping her throat when she felt something warm and sticky slip between her tight, swollen slit.

His tongue.

She clenched her hand harder in his white hair, feeling her cousin's hand slide down her leg, to the very spot her lover had touched earlier – this time, however, she didn't feel the unpleasant pain as his fingertips merely circled around her oversensitive little bud, causing her to leak, stimulated from the inside and outside.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled in despair as she tried to pull away from him, never having experienced a similar sensation before, he, however, held her in an iron grip, his free hand sliding from her face under the material of her gown, to her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said matter-of-factly in a way that sent a shiver through her – she tilted her head back, feeling the servant's tongue accelerate, forcing its way again and again deep inside her hot, throbbing cunt.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she sought refuge, not knowing what to do with the waves of tickling pleasure and tension that were rising in her body, so she turned her face towards him and he leaned in, letting their foreheads touch.

For some reason she wanted to cry.

He was so close.

The gentle touch of his hand between her thighs, his thumb teasing lazily her hard nipple, his hot breath on her face, his embrace was too familiar, too safe.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He breathed out encouragingly, and she shuddered all over in his arms, feeling her lover's tongue hit the sweet spot inside her again and again, her and her cousin's hips beginning to rub against each other, his manhood unashamedly hard and swollen.

If only you were my little sister.

I want this, she thought.

I want to be what you want me to be.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, sinking his fingers into the throbbing folds of her moist womanhood, weeping with desire, teasing with lazy, slow circles her little bud.

She felt tears under her eyelids as she shook her head.

She didn't know.

She didn't know what her father would say to this sight.

He wasn't there for her.

He hadn't protected her.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He exhaled and she shook her head, moaning from exertion, feeling something approaching, the tingling tension between her thighs unbearable, her breath heavy and hitched, droplets of sweat running down her skin.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't take it any longer, and then she was shaken by a pleasure foreign and overpowering, hot and sweet, flowing in waves through her whole body, her lips, her nipples, her fingertips, her silken walls clenching around nothing.

For a moment she heard or saw nothing, heard his soothing whisper, his warm breath enveloping her face, his hands closed over her womanhood and over her breasts just continued to press against her skin, allowing her to calm down.

"You may leave. If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out." She heard his cold voice, but knew it wasn't meant for her – the man lying between her thighs had risen and simply stepped off the bed, leaving them alone, and she sighed loudly, as if she had just accomplished some extraordinary, demanding feat.

She didn't know why she had sought refuge in his embrace, why she had turned in his arms and snuggled into his body, burying her face in his neck, why she had felt nothing but peace as one of his hands lay on her back while the other slowly stroked her hair.

One by one tears ran down her cheeks, shame, relief and sadness spilling over her heart, making her only able to lie down and breathe. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, the warmth of his body that pulsed almost imperceptibly, his manhood pushing against her stomach, his hands trailing gently over her body.

She thought that he was certainly proud of himself, but she decided that it didn't matter.

She needed his arms, she needed to hide, to disappear, to melt into him as one, not to think, not to feel, not to exist.

She fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was late afternoon – there was no one in the chamber but her, however, she knew it was not a dream.

Her bedding was soaked with his scent.

She wasn't sure who had benefited from what had happened. She decided, however, surprised by this discovery, that she did not regret it and did not intend to think about it again.

It had never happened.

As he had ordered, she was already ready before dawn, waiting for him in the courtyard in her riding attire, his mother, clearly displeased with his idea, tried to stop him, to his apparent annoyance.

"You cannot leave the Red Keep without Vhagar. Who will protect us?" She asked, and her son rolled his eyes, impatient, licking his lower lip.

"I leave you in the care of Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. May my brother be of some use for once. With the help of the gods, we will return in about four days with a new dragon on our side." He said and stepped around her, mounting his horse and nodding at her to do the same.

When they reached Vhagar's lair, the dragoness raised lazily her large head, looking at them curiously – having seen her almost every day, she had already become accustomed to her presence and scent, remaining calm.

"Come." He said, and she moved to follow him, seeing that he had taken in his hands some of the bags his horse had been carrying on its back earlier.

She walked behind him, never coming this close to her, watching as the prince tied the grey bags to the ropes hanging from the saddle.

"What are you waiting for? Climb up." He said, glancing at her impatiently, and she nodded, surprised by his directness.

They both had no intention of showing that what had happened had affected them in any way.

Being with him meant a constant battle for dominance.

So be it, she thought and glanced up, sighing quietly.

She was afraid that Vhagar would not be happy that someone other than her rider was trying to climb onto her back, she, however, merely tilted her head towards her and watched her, not moving from her place.

"Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī." Her cousin reassured her as she, panting heavily, climbed with great difficulty over one of the ropes to her very back and sat down in the large leather saddle.

She blinked as her cousin appeared at her side shortly afterwards, as if covering the same distance hadn't caused him any trouble, and sat behind her, pulling the bags up, using the ropes so that they weren't hanging down.

She grunted, leaning forward, hugging the front of the saddle, feeling him all too clearly, his body pressed against her buttocks and back. She shuddered as he slipped his hands under her shoulders, grabbed a couple of the front ropes and called out loudly.

"Sōvēs!"

She squealed, terrified, hugging the saddle as the dragoness suddenly rose up on her paws, moving forward with a loud thump, and closed her eyes as she spread her great wings and flapped them, struggling to slowly lift herself into the air.

She had never experienced something so terrifying and liberating at the same time.

It wasn't until Vhagar had stabilised her flight and was gliding through the heavens that she dared to open her eyes – she froze in awe, seeing clouds all around her, doing what other people could only dream of.

Indeed, there was something wonderful about it, she thought with delight.

In the freedom that flight in the skies offered.

She leaned against the front of the saddle, simply looking ahead with a smile, watching the sun rise in the distance. She drew in a loud breath, feeling her heart beat harder as his cheek pressed against hers, apparently resting in this position.

She felt his erection pushing against her buttocks again, but neither of them spoke.

It was just a man's natural reaction to a woman's closeness, nothing more, she thought.

She knew he was playing with her – she knew he already understood what she wanted.

What she needed.

Tenderness.

Care.

Shelter.

This was why he nuzzled his nose into her cheek, why he persisted in this position: he wanted to break her, wanted her to love what he could be for her.

She felt tears under her eyelids, her eyebrows arching in pain knowing that it was all just a lie.

Her father would never come back for her, and even if he did, it would only be for the sake of the dragon, if she could tame it.

But not for her.

She was of no value to either of them.

As they landed with a thud on the ground in the middle of a wasteland full of hills, evening was approaching. It was only when she opened her eyes, horrified by how intense the landing itself had been, that she realised that her cousin had not chosen this place without reason.

He must have noticed from above what she could see clearly now – vast expanses of black, scorched earth with dozens of animal skeletons.

She shuddered as she heard her cousin untie the bags they had taken with them, letting them fall to the ground, and after a moment he slid down the rope to the bottom, landing lightly on the ground himself.

"Come here."

She made big eyes, feeling that this height terrified her. She swallowed hard, turning her back, grabbing the line and squealed as she suddenly slid down it with far too much speed, thinking she was just going to kill herself.

She gasped as she felt someone's arms soften her fall, supporting her, his impatient sigh told her it was not a graceful jump.

"Get yourself together. We're going to recon. It's fresh tracks, it must not be far." He said, and she nodded, feeling her legs grow all stiff from the long hours of travelling in the saddle.

Her cousin looked around, as if trying to remember this place and how they were supposed to get back here, then moved ahead quickly, making her have to almost run after him.

"When we find it. What should I do? Approach it right away?" She exhaled, following him step by step.

"Mmm. No, you'd better not do anything rash. No sudden movements. You can't make a mistake." He said coldly, and she swallowed hard, thinking in the back of her mind that it was easy for him to say.

However, despite all the absurdity of the situation, she felt excitement.

If she succeeded, she would return to King's Landing on the back of her own dragon.

They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.

He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.

"We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction." He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.

She had an advantage over him here, she thought.

She knew these places, she knew these people.

So why didn't she feel the need to run away?

When they returned to Vhagar's liege, darkness surrounded them. Her cousin had picked up a few long, thick branches on the way, and when they sat down on the grass he laid them down and lit a fire using a flint he had taken from one of his bags.

She did not ask his permission, which did not escape his notice as she untied one of them and began rummaging through it.

"What are you doing?" He asked matter-of-factly, adding wood to the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you take for us as nourishment?" She answered with a question to a question, causing him to merely turn his face away from her, trying to control himself for sure and not hurt her with his own hands.

"Bread and smoked meat." He said, and she sighed, pulling out a waterskin with spring water, drinking a few deep sips from it.

"If I had known that this would be our sustenance for the next few days, I would have asked you to bring a bow with us and I would have provided our meal myself." She said regretfully, and his face turned abruptly towards her.

"You don't need to eat. You will survive on water alone until our return to King's Landing." He hissed, meeting her tired, weary gaze.

"I have cooked many times while hunting with my uncle. It's a useful skill." She replied, pulling a woollen blanket from the pouch with which she covered herself.

Although Vhagar lay beside them, they were high between the hills where a strong, chilly wind was blowing.

She knew the night would be difficult.

Her cousin no longer spoke to her, gazing into the flames as if he could see something in them, his past or his future, his silhouette sitting on the Iron Throne or his fall from the heavens.

Finally, he lay down on the uncomfortably hard ground, placing one of his bags under his head, covering himself with the other blanket, and turned his back to her.

They couldn't sleep too close to Vhagar, for there was a risk that she would simply crush them by turning in her sleep. Therefore, they had to lie at a great distance from her, and their only source of heat was the fire.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think as her teeth began to chatter, her body trembling, her hands clenched into fists with each stronger gust of wind.

If this kept up, they'd both wake up with a fever.

"I'm cold." She said.

Silence.

A long one.

"I'm really cold. Aren't you?" She mumbled, guessing that he was suffering as much as she was, but would sooner die than admit it.

Targaryens and their fucking pride.

She stood up and walked a few steps with her blanket towards him, causing him to have exactly the reaction she wanted – he raised himself on his elbow and looked towards her, his jaw clenched in frustration.

"You have no shame."

"I don't care about shame. I'm supposed to die in dragon fire, not from the cold." She said and lay down beside him, slipping under his blanket, covering them with the other to create a thicker layer to protect them from the cold.

He slumped to the ground, letting the air out loudly, looking up at the stars as if he had given up. She embraced him, but not because she sought safety in his arms, but because he was a source of warmth that she wanted to cling to at all costs, hugging her face to his chest.

They stayed like that in silence, not moving – at first his whole body was tense, as if he thought that what she had done was just an excuse for her to slip her hand under his breeches and shamelessly try to seduce him – he relaxed, however, when he realised that all she really wanted was to lie in the warmth, and since he himself apparently felt better, also warmed by her presence, he said nothing more.

"What did you feel when you tamed Vhagar?" She whispered, looking ahead at the outline of the hills and mountains around them, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks.

She was sure he wouldn't answer and felt herself begin to slowly fall asleep when she heard his quiet voice.

"Relief."

She blinked, surprised, not expecting him to put it this way.

Relief.

"Why?" She dared to ask further, still not looking at him, his heart hidden beneath the material of his tunic and cloak hit hard.

"I gave my family a reason to be proud." He explained, a note of bitterness in his words, as if something in that memory was painful to him.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking with disappointment that she had never been anyone's pride.

Nothing she did mattered – not really.

She felt a single, lone tear run down her cheek onto the material of his leather coat and inhaled loudly, saying nothing more.

She shuddered, pulled out of her reverie when he slided his arm out from between their bodies – she froze when she felt him embrace her, cuddling her into his body, his fingers running through her soft hair as his cheek rested against her forehead.

She snuggled into him, into the merciless substitute of a protector he was to her, feeling the warmth in her chest as he let her face sink into his neck.

She knew that a part of him sympathised with her – she knew that, like her, he understood that in a day or two she might die for his cause, and so in some twisted definition of duty he tried to give her what she had craved all her life as a consolation prize for what she might lose.

It was so pathetic that she clenched her eyes shut and let heavy tears of shame run down her cheeks, her breath hitched and heavy, filled with pain.

She let him do this, let him take advantage of her desperation, the fact that she wanted so much to satisfy his vanity, because of how unavailable he reminded her of her father – by satisfying him, in her mind she was satisfying the man on whose lap she had sat as a small child, imagining that he had given her a second chance.

He created a lie for her to be able to endure what he was condemning her to.

"If you succeed. If you tame a dragon." He whispered, and she froze, feeling that he was about to reveal something vital to her, some secret he had never told anyone. "I will treat you like my little sister. I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side."

She shook her head, thinking how cruel he was, knowing exactly what to say, what to do to break her heart, to bend her to his will, to make sure she never betrayed him.

She cried out helplessly as he hugged her tighter to his body, as he cupped her cheek in his broad palm, rough from wielding his sword, and pressed his forehead against hers in a gesture that was too intimate, too tender, too sweet.

"I will protect you."

[clipartdinosaur]

Griddlehark Fics

I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!

(♥︎ = favorite!)

Short (<15k):

"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)

The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”

"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)

Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.

"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)

One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.

"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)

Oh my god they were roommates...

"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)

She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.

"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)

Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.

"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)

Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).

"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)

Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.

"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎

“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”

"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)

Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.

"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)

"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."

"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)

It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else.  “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand. 

"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)

In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.

"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)

"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."

"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]

It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.

"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)

In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).

"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎

“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”

"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.

"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)

"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?

"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)

Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.

"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎

God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.

"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)

The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.

"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)

Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.

"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)

Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.

"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)

Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.

"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)

Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?

"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎

“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”

"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)

The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?

"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎

Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]

"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)

Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.

"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎

Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]

"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)

Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.

"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)

"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]

"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)

Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]

"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)

What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.

"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎

Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.

"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)

Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.

"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)

You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.

"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)

Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.

"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)

Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.

Medium (15-30k)

"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)

"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.

"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎

When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.

"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎

Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.

"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)

Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.

"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]

After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.

"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎

“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]

"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎

Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.

"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)

[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]

"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)

“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)

Long(>30k):

"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)

Harrow has a decision to make.

"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)

All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.

"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎

It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)

Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.

"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)

Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.

"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.

Ongoing:

"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s

"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)

ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library

TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.

"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)

After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.

"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)

John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.

PWP (basically):

"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎

“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.

"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎

"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.

"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)

“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.

"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)

“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.

"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎

Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.

"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.

"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)

Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”

[formulawolff]

v. heat of the moment - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing, some mentions of misogyny, a physical altercation, slight physical injury, teasing, banter, YEARNING, there is lots of yearning, toto wanting to rail the absolute shit out of you, power imbalances, age gap, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“you ready?” 

james peers down, towering over the car as the pit crew flurries around, prepping for the race. 

you shrug, flipping your visor, “is it too patriotic of me to say that i was born ready?” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“well i’ll do you one better,” the team principal leans over the car, slapping your helmet a couple of times, “go get ‘em tiger.” 

“way to hype me up.” 

“i think another podium is in the cards,” james’ face hardens, the intensity of the race setting in, “you think you could get us on the podium again?” 

“i don’t know about first. they don’t refer to max as the dutch assassin for nothing,” at least you were realistic, “but i think i could place second or third.” 

“i think we should aim for first.” 

underneath the helmet, the corners of your lips curl into a grin, “i think so too.” 

“i believe in you,” james’ hand finds yours, shaking it, “we all believe in you.” 

the authenticity of his statement sends a slight wave of distress washing over you. 

ever since the night in jeddah, your loyalty was beginning to shift. 

you were starting to seriously consider toto’s offer. 

although you made the verbal commitment to james that you would remain with williams until 2026, a certain team principal was starting to tug at your heartstrings. of course, this team principal didn’t have to try very hard. 

even the slightest smile was enough to send you spiraling. 

the turmoil was enough to keep you up at night, tossing and turning. there was really no legitimate reason you could give james on your departure, other than it was your teenage dream to drive for mercedes. 

you would have to lie through your teeth and attempt to put on this facade that you had always wanted to be with mercedes. you just happened to settle for williams. 

fuck, that really made you the asshole. 

now, here you were. 

day-dreaming about a certain team principal, completely on autopilot. 

yet, that quickly faded as you glance up, watching as the lights blink, that green hue gleaming in the sunlight. 

it was go time. 

now or never. 

the roar of the engines is nearly deafening as it fills the track, blood roaring in your ears as you step on the gas.

for the australian grand prix, you were fifth on the grid. it wasn’t a terrible spot, as you had the opportunity to overtake a few places, which would earn you a podium. 

behind you, was george russell from mercedes, lewis hamilton in seventh. ahead were max, sergio, charles, and carlos. 

overtaking the ferrari boys would be a challenge, but you were more than willing to accept it. if you were able to just overtake carlos, you would be content with fourth. 

even if you weren’t on the podium, those points would be significant. 

closing in on carlos, adrenaline pumped in your veins as your sucked in a breath, james voice flooding your ears on the radio. 

“you got this. go for it.” 

the moment you’re about to step on the gas, a horrendous scraping noise sounds to your left. 

george made contact with your car, sending the two of you flying towards the tarmac. you skid along, bracing for impact as you barrel towards the wall. 

although it was merely seconds, it felt like eternity. 

for a moment, your field of vision goes black. 

yet, you blink, the sun so vivid as it shines through your visor. shaking your head, you groan as you clamber out of the car, scrambling to your feet. 

swiveling your helmet, you make out george. 

that’s when everything started to become tinged with a crimson hue. 

“you bastard!” 

“oh?” george taunts you, “this was my fault?” 

“of course it fucking was!” you march over to the british driver, “learn how to fucking drive the damn car!” 

“learn how to overtake somebody else and we would have never had this fucking problem!” george retaliates, his voice raising with every word. 

you just scoff, deciding to let it go. 

accidents happen. unfortunately for you, it was just part of the job. it may have cost you a podium, gave your car significant damage, and ruined your day, but you had to let it go. it was just a bad day at the office. 

well, more like a fucking awful shit day at the office.

as you suck in a breath, strolling away from george, he decides to goad you on even further, giving one final retort. 

“you should have stuck to nascar! maybe then it would have been easier for you to navigate a bloody track!” 

you stop in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder. 

“what did you just fucking say?” 

“you heard me,” george folds his arms over his chest, “you should have stuck to fucking nascar. maybe then that thick skull of yours would have been able to navigate the track! it’s pretty bloody simple you know, just a few left turns!” 

that was the moment when everything truly went dark. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“do you know how much today cost us?” 

james is to your right, massaging his temples. however, you can’t quite decipher the emotions plastered across his features.

was he disappointed? furious? you couldn’t tell. 

alex is across from you, chewing on a thumbnail, “i mean, things could have been worse.” 

“we literally had to pry her off of him,” james exhales, groaning slightly, “it’s a mess. that’s what it is. a fucking mess.” 

“i think you guys are forgetting he started it,” you mumble, pressing an ice pack to your jaw, “he told me i should’ve stuck to nascar. i mean, what would you have done in that moment?” 

“walked away? called him a twat or something?” james shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, “you know i adore you, but you really fucked us over today. my driver getting into a physical altercation with another team was the last thing on my agenda today. yeah, the accident was bad, but that… that was awful.” 

“hey,” alex puts his hands up, “at least i didn’t crash my car.” 

“fuck off,” you shoot him a glare, “also, i wouldn’t call that an accident. it was more like a little skirmish.” 

“you beating his ass wasn’t,” alex points out, his tone laced with a tease, “i gotta admit, that was pretty entertaining to watch.” 

“i taught that bitch one thing today. and it’s that you don’t mess with texas,” a laugh bubbles up in your throat, earning a chuckle from alex in response. 

“what am i going to do with you two?” although he tries to remain stern, you can see a hint of a smile on james’ face. 

“i think i deserve some rest,” raising your arms above your head, you use your hands as a cushion, leaning backwards, “i put in a lot of work today.” 

“yeah,” alex nods, “a lot of work beating that brit’s ass.” 

“do you think he’s scared of me?” 

“i think everyone is,” alex rolls his eyes playfully, “if i was max verstappen, i would be shaking in my boots right now.” 

“okay, okay,” james interjects, “enough from you both. we can discuss this further tomorrow. i’m exhausted.” 

“you weren’t even the one throwing the punches!” alex tosses his hands up in the air, “if anyone if exhausted, it’s probably our wwe superstar over here!” 

“go,” james waves a hand at the two of you, “like i said, we’ll talk more tomorrow. i have to do damage control for the rest of the night. probably well into tomorrow too.” 

“i am sorry,” you clear your throat, rising to your feet. you make eye contact with alex, who is still bearing a mischievous grin, “i guess that australian heat just got to me.” 

“i cannot take you two seriously right now,” james sighs, “go. get some rest.” 

unlike james’ dismissal, you did not have to be told that twice. 

after george’s snide remarks, you caved under the heat of the moment. with emotions running high, you sprung forward at the british driver, shoving him a couple of times. he goaded you on, taunting you to “actually do something about it.” 

of course, you actually did something about it. 

what could you say? it was the american way. 

there was no way in hell you were going to let him off the hook. especially after he demanded that you “go back to nascar.” those comments were completely unnecessary and uncalled for. anyone could admit that. 

so, in response, you knocked him to the ground, throwing a few good punches in before a safety crew member pried you off of him. 

the little “skirmish” with the mercedes driver had taken the formula one world by storm. 

all over social media, there were mixed reactions. many of the comments praised you for not taking anyone’s shit. the others blasted your character, questioning if women truly belonged in formula one if they “let their emotions get the best of them.” 

numerous fans called for your resignation from williams driving, claiming that you had no right to be behind the wheel of a car. 

the fia claimed they would be launching an investigation to determine if there were to be punishments for both drivers. mercedes put out a statement that they would be “thoroughly addressing the incident that occurred with one of their drivers.” 

meanwhile, williams racing had yet to comment on the matter, remaining silent. 

personally, you felt that the sheer embarrassment from your outburst was enough. you would be the topic of discussion for weeks. your personality, likeness, and every somewhat terrible thing you had ever done would be dissected throughout reddit forums, through tik toks, and through instagram posts. 

surely the fia would remain merciful, but you had your doubts. 

pulling up the hood on your sweatshirt, you make your way in the direction of your motorhome. 

at least that would provide you a space away from all of the chaos that ensued after the race. 

in your pocket, your phone buzzes. 

reluctantly, you fish it out, anticipating your name to be headlining yet another article. instead, it’s a message from mr. wolff.

i’m on my way over. be there in five. 

oh fuck.

toto wolff was the last person you wanted to see. 

especially after today. 

flinging open the door, you trudge into the space, dumping your belongings on the counter. making your way to your room, you flop on the bed, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. 

not even a minute later, you hear a familiar voice filling the motorhome. 

“don’t tell me you’re hiding from — oh, there you are.” 

“i don’t want to talk about it.” 

“i think we should.” 

his tone is far different than you anticipated. you expected him to be furious, dropping the offer entirely. 

rather, his words are quiet, laced with a softness as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing a tender hand on your back. 

“rough day, huh?” 

“rough is not even the word to describe the absolute shitshow that was today,” your head is still buried in the pillow, your voice muffled, “you have no idea how disappointed i am in myself.” 

“i’m sure,” toto inhales sharply, “i hope you know that what occurred today does not change anything. actually, it’s convinced me that you deserve that mercedes seat even more than i initially thought.” 

“toto,” you lift your head up, “i literally physically assaulted another driver. a driver who happens to belong on your team. i don’t deserve that seat.” 

“well it simply proved to me that you’re more than willing to stand up for what you believe in,” he counters, that gentleness dissolving into firmness, “you don’t take anyone’s shit. i need that energy brought into mercedes.”

“i think if you gave me that seat, george would actually shit himself.”

“don’t fret baby,” a hand finds your hair, fingers smoothing out some strands, “i would be your mediator.”

“are you sure you still want to offer me that seat? do you know how much the media is going to ridicule you?”

“i think i have been ridiculed enough in my time at mercedes,” he shrugs, “what’s a little bit more? if it means i have you, nothing else will matter.”

shifting your weight, you sit up, scooting over a little so that you could be next to toto. leaning your head on his shoulder, you nuzzled into his dress shirt, his arm instinctively wrapping around your frame, “today just fucking sucked.”

“i can only imagine baby,” light kisses pepper your temple, trailing all over the bridge of your nose and the apples of your cheeks, “i could help take your mind off things.”

“i’m sure you could,” your heart skips a beat as his hand squeezes your thigh, “i wish you could just make it all go away.”

“i could definitely do that, sweet girl,” his hand inches further and further up your thigh, fingers tracing circles, “you want me to take care of you?”

yet, as his mouth hovers around your ear, a flash of pain seeps into your skull, causing you to wince. 

“fuck.”

“what’s wrong?” 

“my head hurts,” you whimper, “after i hit the wall, i think i may have passed out for a second. everything went black, i couldn’t see anything.”

“and you didn’t have a medic clear you?” toto presses, and you can’t help but notice the inflections of worry, “baby, you should have had someone look at you.”

“i was more focused on other things,” you mumble, the pain beginning to increase, “fuck.”

“you’re probably just a little banged up from the crash. if your symptoms continue through the morning, we’ll get you checked out.”

“we?”

“well,” he pauses, biting his tongue, “i would say i would take you to our medic, but i think that would raise some eyebrows. make sure you see someone, okay?”

before you know it, toto is to his feet, towering over you on the edge of the bed, “where are your pajamas?”

“you don’t have to–”

"i want to,” he interrupts, “let me help, okay? you don’t have to do everything yourself, you know that?”

“but i’m used to–”

“and i need you to know that while i’m here, you do not have to worry about that anymore. i’m going to take care you. anything that you need, you’ll get,” he brushes a lock of hair away from your forehead. 

you melt, nearly collapsing under his touch as he caresses your cheek. wrapping your arms around his thigh, you nuzzle into his hip. 

meanwhile, the team principal is about to crumple to his knees at the sight of you. fuck, you were so cute. why were you so goddamn cute?

even after assaulting one of his drivers, you were still pretty damn cute. he was not lying when he said it made you more attractive. 

he needed someone to be that passionate about their team, their driving, and their beliefs. he needed someone who could take a stand against another driver without backing down. he needed someone who didn’t give a fuck. 

he needed you. 

fuck, he needed you. 

in the moments the two of you were apart, he could barely process his thoughts. you were consuming his mind whole. he clung to your words, your voice, so sweet and soft, flooding his ears when you weren’t around. he found himself checking his phone more frequently, in attempts to see if you had responded. 

lately, it seemed every time he thought about racing, his mind brought him to you. 

he was addicted to you. 

“how about some head?” 

your inquiry takes him by surprise, his jaw clenching, heart racing, “oh? does my baby need some?”

“it may help ease my headache,” you glance upwards, the team principal fighting back a groan as filthy fantasies begin to creep into his thoughts. 

the sight of you looking up at him like that? with those lashes framing those stunning eyes? with your lips looking oh so plush? 

fuck, toto felt his knees nearly buckle.

there was no denying he wanted you. he craved you. often.

he desperately ached to feel you, to know what you felt like as he made you his. he yearned to feel that perfect pussy on his tongue as you bucked your hips, crying out for more. he wanted more than anything, to hear you beg. you probably looked oh so pretty when you begged. 

that night in jeddah, you were so fucking wet. you had nearly coated his fingers with it all. and it was all for him? 

“toto,” the way his name fell from your lips was like heaven itself, “will you stay tonight?”

“of course,” he nods, his voice nearly faltering as your hand massages his thigh, “f-fuck.”

“what?” you coo, meeting his gaze once more, “what is it, baby?”

baby. 

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. 

the buzz of a phone in his pocket startles you, earning a flinch. as it rings, the team principal lets out a string of curses, and you infer it was more than likely german. bringing the phone to his ear, he takes a step back, strolling over to the corner of the room. 

sighing, you roll on your side, back facing the team principal. 

the call was only about a minute, yet felt like an eternity.

“don’t tell me you’re pouting over there.”

“maybe i am.”

the bed dips underneath his weight, your heart fluttering as you feel his presence. the team principal is on top of you now, pinning you to the bed. 

“well quit it.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @nebarious @whoisss @kravitzwhore @prettiest-at-the-party

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ WOW, ALL FOR ME, BABE?❞

— minors dni, recording, sending nudes, mentions of blowjob (flashback) fem! masturbation, implied blackmail?

the sweet tranquility of your study session is interrupted by what was supposed to be a phone on do not disturb.

‘vrrrrrr!’

traces of light shine onto the desk, prompting you to turn the device face up and give in to a little distraction. a groan leaves you immediately at the sight of “suguru ‼️🖤” —a name you did not set willingly— popping up on your screen.

suguru‼️🖤: send satoru a nude or smthg

your brows knit together, befuddlement dragging across your features. you’re holding the power button when three more texts show up.

suguru‼️🖤: he’s stuck with his dad or whatever, surprise him

suguru‼️🖤: if not i can send this instead…?

suguru‼️🖤: 1 attachment

sighing in defeat, muscle memory fills in your password, and you head to the messages only to immediately be met with a thumbnail of your crying face, stuffed full of geto’s cock. memories of the occasion come tumbling back, a night geto visited your room out of boredom and had you suck him off for hours under the threat of destroying a project worth a huge chunk of a class’s grade, something you absolutely couldn’t afford to fail. pulling your hair, fingering your pussy, fucking your face and, most notably, making you denounce gojo in between gags and feeble cries.

‘tell me how good you feel’ his soft voice murmurs into your ears. ‘so much better than with satoru, right?’

and you nod, you have to, unless you want geto to deny you another orgasm. ‘y-yes, ge-, suguru, you’re so much better, i promise.’

gojo would, without question, spend an entire night destroying all 3 holes in your body if he even caught a glimpse of that video, and so you set your books to the side, pulling your shorts down silky, plush thighs, and angle the camera in a way to get a good pic of your cunt. you have the unfortunate expertise of sending gojo nudes before, so you know exactly what he likes.

it only takes a few minutes of rubbing over your clit through your panties before you’re soaking wet, thoughts of porcelain white hair, strong, muscled arms, and a familiar grin dancing around the edges of your mind even though you’d prefer to think of anything else. finger trembling over the screen, you hit what you assume is the white button for a photo, phone still upright in your grasp as your fingers tease into your dripping hole. one, two are all you can manage before it becomes too much.

‘satoru..!’, you mewl into your pillow as an orgasm quakes down your spine.

you barely look at the screen as you send him the picture, huffing and panting and blinking away the blurriness of your vision. after a few moments to recollect yourself, you sit upright preparing to go clean up in the bathroom, before a set of buzzes grabs your attention.

SATORU💙💙: WOW ALL FOR ME BABE??

you start to shake your head at the overreaction to some quick photo of your pussy, before noticing the large play button over what you’ve sent. your heart plummets, because surely you did not just bless gojo of all people with a video of you moaning for him, but his next texts confirm your suspicions.

SATORU💙💙: fuck that’s so hot i love when you say my name

SATORU💙💙: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU TOMORROW PRINCESS 👀👀

tagz: @anthoosies look babes 👀

[thatdeadaquarius]

Topic: Genshin impact.

au: Sagau.

idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like

Zhongli: “I will have order!”

reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”

Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0

So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!

“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”

Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️

Stars: bro idek

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO

so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)

so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,

u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)

then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more

and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???

ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running

it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)

it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor

and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-

dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities

u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-

oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,

and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)

by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit

at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,

and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???

a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-

and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao

right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along

(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)

u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,

and u just,

walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,

that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-

Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀

U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??

u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army

(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)

meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is

it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light

u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh

tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀

…

(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,

she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)

☆

well that was, something. 😃🫠

sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)

i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭

</3

on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃

have a good week guys!

Safe Travels Lil Car,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

If ur tag doesnt work, pls check ur settings to see if ur a "searchable blog"!! Its not the same as the Ai selling data thing.

[macfrog]

hanging on the telephone a sex on fire one shot

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: your boss picks a convenient time to ask for a favor.

warnings: age gap eat my fuckin shorts (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalance of power dynamic, joel likes (semi) public sex again!, softdom!joel, fingering, unprotected piv, daddy kink, praise kink, cursing. takes place somewhere between state-of-the-art and mile high.

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💚

“Sh– Fuck – Shit –”

“So goddamn tight, baby, she’s so –” he pinches your hip with his left hand, presses harder on your clit with his right thumb, “– she’s so fuckin’ tight for me.”

“Daddy, I’m…I’m gonna c…Oh, shit, I'm...”

Joel tips his head back, two beats of cocky laughter pushing from his chest. Even with your vision quickly blurring, your eyes rolling shut, you can still see the way his jaw flexes with it, the way his Adam’s apple bobs. Can hear the curve of the words, shaped by the smirk on his lips.

“You gonna come, baby? That what you’re tryna tell me?”

Your hips circle, body clenching around three thick fingers. “M-hm,” you force through gritted teeth.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he growls, feeling your little cunt squeezing down to his knuckles. “That two now, or three?”

“Th-three.”

“Three,” he whispers, though you know he already fucking knew. He just wanted you to admit it. Wanted to watch as your lips twisted around an answer, struggled through your orgasm quickly approaching. “’n how long have we been alone?”

Your head tilts onto your shoulder, hands reaching down to clutch around his big wrist. You grip onto the strap of his watch, the cold glass face shocking your burning skin.

Joel laughs again, a hot breath of air across your lips, but he doesn’t slow the snap of his fingers, the circles of his thumb. He takes your jaw in his free hand and turns your ear to his lips, whispering, “Asked you a question, baby girl.”

“F-uh-ck,” you whine, hips beginning to give. “I don’t know, Daddy, I don’t –”

His teeth nip at your lobe, lips press into the skin under your ear. A low rumble, wet on your skin when he murmurs, “Ain’t even been ten minutes.”

There had been no recovery time between your first two orgasms. The first bled straight into the next – Joel and his fingers had drawn them from your body before the elevator had even delivered Martha to the lobby, you’re willing to bet.

She’d buttoned her coat, announced that she needed some fresh air – offered for you to join her, and then shook her head when you called back from Joel’s office that you were fine, thanks, Martha.

Maybe she’s onto the two of you. Maybe she knows all the signs of a secret work romance. Hell, maybe Joel’s done this before. You don’t fucking know.

Reason (and perhaps a smidge of desperate hope) convinces you otherwise. Still – you can’t remember the last time the woman left for lunch alone. Can’t remember the last time she gave you two peace in Joel’s office for more than ten minutes, without popping her head in to gossip or roll her eyes at the pair of you.

You hadn’t been up to anything when she was here, anyways – but it didn’t take long after hearing that sharp ding and the signature rattle of the doors announcing her departure, for Joel’s hands to find your waist.

He made some quip, like, Maybe she’s got her own secret man she’s off to see, and you hadn’t the time to come up with anything worth half a laugh before he pulled you into his lap and slipped his fingers up the inside of your thigh.

When did this become what you do, anyway, you wonder? Sneaking around behind your colleagues’ backs; feeling brave enough to slip a palm down your boss’s front and cup his fucking dick through his pants anytime he looks at you a heartbeat too long. Letting the guy spread your legs on the desk you’ve worked at for three years now; letting him kiss and lick and feast between your thighs.

When did this become normal?

He’s intoxicating. He’s all you fucking think about these days. I’m bored, tell me something funny. Can I sit here while you’re on that meeting? When can we fuck next? No one ever fucked me like you do.

“Fuck,” Joel grunts, wrist slowing as the edges of your vision blur. “Like that, baby girl?”

“Just – just like that,” you beg, hands gripping around his shoulders.

“She likes that, doesn’t she?” Joel utters, pulling you closer. “Come on, baby, give me one more.”

The world halts for a second, splits in two, and crashes back together, throwing you over the edge. You come with a pathetic whimper, folding over Joel’s body and rocking uncontrollably, gripping onto his hair to steady yourself.

His arm wraps around the small of your back, holding you down on his hand until you loosen again – his fingers soaked, glistening. He slips them out, rubbing your clit slowly with his middle finger.

“Fuck,” you breathe, reaching for his hand.

His fingers knot around yours, your release slippery and warm on his knuckles. He takes your jaw in his other hand, pulls you in, and slips his tongue across yours. Something wet and needy, something as meaningless as it is meaningful.

Something which beckons your hands to his belt, your fingers slipping behind the thick leather.

The moment is interrupted by an annoying ping from Joel’s phone discarded to the opposite side of the desk.

Blindly, still with his lips attached to yours, he reaches over and swipes it with one hand. He breaks apart the kiss to look down, blinking at the screen. “Oh, shit,” he says, flatly.

You lean over, one hand still lazily playing with his, squinting at the upside-down text thread. “What?” you ask, fiddling with the undone buttons of his shirt.

“Shit,” again, hissed and now…irritated. “Did you–? I didn’t ask you to book a table at Ricci’s, did I?”

“The Italian place?”

Joel nods, hurriedly.

You shake your head, slowly. A little confused. “Why? What’s…?”

“I’m meeting a client there this afternoon,” he mutters, shifting in his chair. The movement rocks you back and forth, but Joel keeps a hand on your hip to hold you.

A weight you know all too well brushes the inside of your thigh. You both clock it. And then you both ignore it.

“Goddamn it,” Joel groans. “There ain’t no chance that Martha…?”

Your head tilts. “You know damn well you don’t trust anyone with that shit but me. No, it’s not booked. You never asked. But it’s fine, just call ‘em. These places can always make room, Mr. Miller.”

Joel squints, jaw lifting when you drag your nose along it to kiss his neck. His rough beard scratches your nose and chin.

But he’s squinting, when you pull back. Half-turning away from you, one eye closed; mouth twisted in a dumb smirk.

“What?” you ask, frowning.

“You can’t do it for me?”

Your eyes roll. “You fucked up,” you fix the tousled strands of his hair back into place, “fix it. You’re a big boy.”

“Willing to pay you a little extra,” he offers, pulling your hips down against his crotch. “Generous amount.”

“Generous,” you echo, letting him drag your slick mess all over his black pants. Your fingers slip beneath his belt, loosening the fly of his pants.

He’s hard already – solid and heavy when your hand dips below his boxer shorts and wraps around his warm cock. Turned on just by the feeling of you around his fingers, the sight and sound of you unraveling in his lap.

He hisses quietly when you pull him free; smearing wet onto your fingers as you drag your fist up and down. And when you look back up, he’s not watching his cock in your hands. Not looking at the skin exposed by your tangled underwear, your skirt sitting almost as high as your waist.

He’s looking straight at you. Your fluttering eyelashes, your tongue dabbing at the wet forming along your bottom lip. His eyes shoot quick as lightning from one to the other. “Like playing with it, huh?” he asks quietly. “’s your favorite thing in the world.”

You grin. “Like it better when it’s…” you push yourself up, running his wide tip along the seam of your cunt, separating your folds and pausing right below your vagina, “…here.”

Joel’s hands push heavier on your hips – lowering you slowly and gently enough that you could stop him, but sure and steady enough that he knows you won’t dare to. He breaches your opening, intrusion enough to stop your breathing, and slips in.

It glides in so smoothly, so easily that you barely feel the stretch at first. Still soft and soaked from your third release, your body pulls him in – until it starts to hurt.

A tiny gasp from your lips and Joel holds his arms out, letting you clutch onto the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. “Easy, easy,” he says, holding your elbows.

It’s only been a couple times. And as good as they were, you’re still not used to him. He’s still bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before; it still hurts just a little, anytime he pushes in.

But still, you smile bracing yourself now with two palms on his chest – his hair damp with sweat in little swirls on the skin below his clavicle. “Still not – callin’ them,” you pant, taking him halfway.

Joel clicks his teeth, studying your cheeky expression. “Be a big girl ‘n do it,” he whispers, eyes following the round trail of your fingers on his sticky chest. “Do it for your daddy.”

You look up at him, smirk tugging on the corners of your lips. “’n what if Daddy doesn’t deserve it? You – shit – you fucked up,” you repeat.

Joel’s hips lift from the chair, cock slipping deeper, painfully slow as it fills you all the way. When the coarse hair at his base meets your clit, your nails digging little curved marks into his skin, he smirks. “He feel like he don’t deserve it to you?”

“No,” you gasp suddenly, eyes screwing shut, “feels – feels so good, Daddy.”

“Uhuh. You gonna call the restaurant for him?”

Another splintered breath. He’s so fucking big, so uncomfortable when you’re sat on him like this. “Yeah,” you whine, “I’ll call ‘em, Daddy, please just…please…”

His chin lifts, lids flickering over inky eyes. “Ah,” he clips, still holding you up on his cock, “no begging. Not ‘til you call.”

And he drops his hips, holding you off his length as you shakily stand. He helps tug your skirt back into place, watches as you lean over him to reach for the phone.

You do your best to sound annoyed, covering the scratch marks of desperation in your voice when you ask, “What’s the number?”

Joel reads it out, standing up, too, and you rest your elbows on the desk, cracking your neck.

Some chipper voice answers the phone, belting down the line to thank you for your call and ask what he can do for you today. He’s too fucking enthusiastic, too distracting, and only when he pauses to check the system for any free tables do you notice the weight at your ass.

The cold of his belt buckle kissing the underside of your thigh, the peeling of your skirt up, up, up. Hands massaging your ass cheeks; then one cupping between your legs to nudge your clit gently.

You jolt forward, a warped sound crying from your lips. The guy says, Pardon me, ma’am? and you stutter your way through a sentence in reply as Joel hooks your panties to the side.

“We’ve got…let’s see…” The host hums some stupid fucking tune, clicks his tongue against his teeth while you tug on the phone cord – unable to stop from stealing a glance over your shoulder and yet unwilling to give your boss the satisfaction of knowing you’re watching.

Joel pulls the belt free from its loops, drops it to the seat of his chair with a thud, and lines up right behind you.

You cover the microphone. “This what you wanted?” you hiss.

He hums. “You’re the one who bent over, darlin’.”

“Asshole.”

“Way to speak to your boss,” he grumbles, and shoves in.

“Christ,” you yelp, and the host pauses again.

“Um…We have one o’clock?” he asks, keyboard clicking in the background.

Your voice catches, body bouncing against the desk rhythmically. The wooden edge shunts roughly against your pelvis, bruises likely blooming already with the rate Joel’s going.

He bends forward, his right ear lining with the phone. “Say again?” he whispers.

“One,” you repeat.

Joel shakes his head. “Too soon. Ain’t hungry yet.”

“It’s twelve,” you mutter, teeth gritted, “you might be hungry in an hour.”

“Hm,” he considers, leaning back upright. “Maybe, long as I keep myself busy.”

He thrusts forward again, pulling you by the waist until you’re flush against his chest. His hands slip around to cup your breasts, squeezing and pinching and holding you still.

“Anything – later?” you ask down the line, switching the phone to the opposite ear to let Joel in at your neck. His teeth graze the skin, sharp pain when the blood vessels splatter streaks of crimson.

The host offers up a table at two-fifteen, which Joel seems to like the sound of, given the moan he lets free when you ask.

“Two-fifteen’s good,” you say, dropping the phone to the desk when your boss’s hand sneaks around your hip. “Joel,” you gasp, holding your voice at as low a volume as you can, “Joel, I swear to – Jesus Christ, you’re gonna –”

He’s laughing, playing with your clit as he fucks you, lips buried into the crook of your shoulder. “You my good girl?” he asks, bending your bodies forward. “Then book the goddamn table.”

“Ma’am?” the host’s asking, when you lift the phone to your ear again. “You still there?”

“Still – still here,” you breathe, flattening the whine in your voice. Joel’s starting to falter, starting to lose his rhythm. You can feel yourself beginning to tighten around him, give in to the pressure between your hips.

“What’s the name, ma’am?”

“Huh?”

Joel laughs, lips against your ear again. “Tell ‘im, pretty girl. Tell him who your daddy is.”

“My – fuck – M-Miller,” you reply, knees buckling. “Miller.”

“Alright, a table for two for…Miller…And that’s M-I-L-L–”

“–E-R, yep. Miller.”

“Good girl,” Joel pants against your temple, bristles of his beard grazing your cheek. He wraps one arm tight around your waist, clamping you against his body, the other still toying with your clit. Hips snapping roughly into yours, he whispers sharp in your ear, “I’m gonna come, darlin’, gonna fill you up real good, alright?”

“Can you wai–?”

“Alright, that’s you booked in, ma’am! We can’t wait to –”

“Great,” you choke back, falling forward with Joel at your back, “thanks. Thank you, we’ll see you – see you –”

Joel reaches over your shoulder and jams a thumb into the hook of the phone. “Fuck,” he groans, holding you steady as his cock throbs and a wet heat floods somewhere deep inside you.

The handset slips from your grasp, clattering against the desk as your body falls limp, your pussy jolting around him. His hands are the only thing keeping you steady, keeping you from melting into a puddle at his feet. A love-drunk sigh, the word Daddy spilling out into the room – the last thing before your breath cuts and he’s dragging you back down into the chair with him again.

Joel sinks back into the leather, sighing as he settles you again in his broad lap. He kisses you until you stir – lips soft against your temple, your cheek, your neck, to bring you back to him. His cock’s still stiff, half-limp and shining at the bottom of his stomach.

“’s a good girl,” he coos, letting you collapse against his chest.

Your cunt pulses, clenching around nothing; Joel’s come and yours trickling into your underwear.

“I hate you,” you whisper, playing with his hands.

“I know,” he mumbles into your skull, “bad boss.”

You breathe a laugh. “Who’s the client?”

“Mm,” Joel muses, adjusting in the chair, “nobody. Canceled on me last minute.”

He grins when you snap upright, head cocking. “Are you fucking kidding me? You just put me through all that for no goddamn reason?”

“Naw,” he protests, frowning, “I thought the two of us could go.”

There’s a softness to his face which dampens the fire in your belly as quickly as it ignited. Something genuine, something honest. You know him well enough by now to tell when he’s asking something of you, and not expecting it.

You feel your cheeks heat. “To lunch? Together?”

He shrugs. “Why the hell not? We’re going to Paris together.”

You blink at him, considering it. He’s not fucking wrong, is he? That same fire strikes again – only, a little further north, a little harder to control. It tickles your lungs, shaking the breath as you suck it in. You cover yourself with a blunt, “Martha’s gonna be pissed,” laced through as easy-going a sigh as you can manage.

Joel laughs, nodding. “I am sure she’ll get over it. Quiet office for the afternoon. Paradise.”

You smile, looking down at your hands clasped around one of his. You give his knuckles a small squeeze, and mutter, “You’re paying, Miller. And I’m ordering big.”

If not for the dark beard on his cheeks, and the sudden protective movement of his hand over them – if not for the fact that you’ve never in all your time here seen it happen…you’d swear the man was blushing.

“Okay,” Joel says, cheeks lifting. “Anything you want.”

[8lyme]

Why do I have to lose you?

Logan Howlett x reader (gender unspecified)

Part 2

SUMMARY: You and Logan are being chased down by the military after a group of mutants attempted to set fire to the White House. The school instantly became a target. While trying to protect the school in a damaged X-jet, Logan decides your fate for you.

WARNINGS: Sad and a little graphic.

a/n: I am fr gonna do a pt 2 i just didnt want to make this super long like it will probably end up being also again pls give me a break i just gotta free this shit from the straight jacket it's in inside my brain

Within seconds of news footage airing, the whirring of chopper blades surrounded the school.

Since jet takeoff, Storm and Jean had jumped out to help on the ground. Both diverted most of the attacks away from the jet. You and Logan had flown over the masses of machinery that were crawling toward the school. Tanks and trucks filled with armoured soldiers and explosives gathered just outside the tree line. The explosives packed under the jet had long-since run out, hardly making a dent in the wall of troops.

The sensors in the X-jet are whirring, alarms flashing red and blaring. Almost as loud as tornado sirens. You're gripping at the controls, straining at keeping the jet level while a thruster sputters out. A lurch knocks the cabin as another sensor drums on. You pull on a lever to the side of the console in front of you as a hasty attempt to divert power back to the fizzling thruster.

"I think the jet took a hit," Logan calls out loudly over the screech of the alarms.

"No fucking shit!" You call back shakily, head pounding and heart hammering. The windshield is fogged from smoke damage and beginning to crack on the left side.

"You need to fly out of here!" Logan calls again, his voice near monotone.

"Again, no fucking shit!" You whip around to face him and use the opportunity to flip off the interior electricity. The cabin is only illuminated by the windshield, but you can't see Logan.

"We need to land" you say to the shadows of the bay. You glance around, still white-knuckling the controls before calling out "Logan?"

"Let me out" he responds, walking out from the base of the hangar. "Drop the hangar and let me jump out. I can get past the front line and set off the explosives in the trucks"

"Are you stupid? You'll plaster to the ground on impact" you tell him, turning back to the windshield in time to pull away from a stray rocket.

He comes behind you and grips onto your shoulder, forcing you to look his way again.

"Open the hanger and let me jump out" He says firmly. "And then get the hell out of here."

"I don't think you understand how physics works, Logan! I can't bring this jet more than fifteen hundred feet above the ground. You will literally splatter to the ground if you jump from that high."

His grip on your shoulder tightens, saying "I'll survive."

You pull away from him to face the console. "Have you survived a fall from this high before?" You ask over the roar of the thrusters.

"Will you listen to me?" He yells to you, taking your face in his hands. "You need to get out of here. I'll regenerate, you won't! My bones are indestructible -" And you cut him off.

"Your tendons aren't adamantium!" You yell to him, smacking his chest with the side of your hand for emphasis. "Your muscles aren't adamantium and your organs aren't adamantium! The second you jump out of this jet you will get shot out of the sky. How do you know you'll survive getting literally blown up?"

You try not to cry, sucking in a breath in an attempt to stop the stinging behind your eyes. His face is firm. He pulls the straps of your harness so you face him fully.

"You won't survive if this jet gets shot out of the fucking sky!" Logan shouts. "Open the hangar and get the hell out of here!"

"There is no reason for you to jump out of this jet, you self-sacrificial piece of shit!" You're trying to yell firmly, but your breath is shaky and your vision starts to blur. Suddenly, the spring of the chair unlocks and Logan clicks on the jet's autopilot and pushes your chair away from the console, locking it feet away from the controls.

"Logan!" You go to unlock the clasps of your harness as he pulls away from you. He must've crushed the buckles while you were fighting, because you can't unclasp yourself. Panicking, you whip around to try and face him while yanking at the harness as hard as you can.

He's walking toward the hangar while the door loudly begins to unlatch.

"Stop it!" you beg. "I am not going to scour these woods for your metal bones to put you back together and hope that you regenerate!" You begin to sob, pulling at your straps fruitlessly.

He marches back toward you, shouting "And I am not going to watch your empty casket go into the ground!" over the wind. You can see the hurt and panic on his face. He looks furious, but you know how terrified he feels. "I am not going to lose you."

The hangar is wide open now. Crackles of explosions sound off in the background.

"Why do I have to lose you?"

The furrow in his brow softens a little. He moves closer to bend and cup your cheek with his hand. You grip tightly onto his uniform as he kisses you, hoping in vain that you're strong enough to stop him.

Logan pulls away to the sound of the hangar beginning to close. He pries your fingers off him, turns away, and jogs to the lip of the closing door. You watch him leap out as the groan of the door comes to a stop.

Part 2 will be linked here!

[indulgentdaydream]

Hello luv, first of all... I LOVE NURSE!READER!!! OH god the last lines were soooooo heartwarming for my social worker heart!! LOVE LOVE IT 🩷🩷

So, may I request a Jason x reader again but with a little something... Jealous Jason because reader and Roy know each other longer than Jay and reader and then he gets all jelly and and—! Oh god I love a jealous petty man.

Missy when she fucks up the queue and queues this post for NEXT YEAR by accident 🫣🙃 NEXT YEAR?? LIKE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED LAST FRIDAY AND I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE THAT IT DIDN'T GO UP

anyways AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH your words are already heartwarming ♥️

I loveeee jealous jason imma cook this up so quick just you wait and see (i wrote this when i first made the draft and i found it funny to leave it. It’s literally been a month I’m so sorry)

I also made this into headcanons because I had a VISION and did not think to give it any justice. (koi youre seriously my number 1 supporter i hope you enjoy this garbage I just threw up, really)

Pining!Jealous!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: slight jealousy (not too overly consuming), alcohol consumption

Roy had invited Jason to hang out at the bar

Bros being bros

except...

Roy brought you along (because he KNOWS Jason has got a fat crush on you whether or not he’s told him)

(He tried to convince roy it’s not a crush, but always fails because his whole demeanour changes when you walk in the room)

examples:

he's always going to be standing beside you, consciously or not

jason isn't always a tense guy. But he for sure isn't as long as you're talking to him/looking at him/etc. (but if you put your hand on his arm/touch him in any way, it's game over)

your name is brought up, he's listening SO INTENTLY

like a dog when it hears its favourite word

Anyways

The three of you are sitting in a booth

It was originally you and roy before jason showed up, the two of you on either side

Jason shows up and just sits right next to you. No hesitation.

You and roy are laughing away, recounting stories and telling jokes.

Jason is just... really quiet

unusually quiet

He doesn’t look at you guys, rather looking out across the bar, trying to hide the fact he’s feeling this way

That he's feeling unreasonably jealous of his best friend

who literally brought you FOR JASON

He knows it’s stupid. He trusts both of you. You two are the two people he trusts the MOST

He hates that he’s like this, but he can't help it

Roy's better than him. You've known him for longer. He's making you laugh harder than Jason ever has. He's better looking, too. Older. More experienced.

His thoughts are clogging up his head. He's really not listening anymore, just holding his beer, eyes scanning the bar floor, watching the other patrons.

Then Roy is standing in front of him, saying something about using the bathroom.

He is giving a VERY pointed look at Jason.

a "make conversation with your crush or I'm shoving an arrow down your throat" kind of look

Jason felt a little stab of genuine anxiety shoot through him.

He's talked to you alone before. Many times. You two were friends, of course. He doesn't know why this is how he's feeling right now.

Then your hand is resting on his forearm.

Poor boy is still so caught up in his head he just looks down at your hand for definitely a second too long before finally meeting your gaze

Your gaze with those stupidly pretty eyes.

Then comes that horrendously pretty voice, "You alright?"

He nods. Shrugs. Like a stupid teenager who doesn't know how to handle his emotions.

He has to admit he's still a little tense about your attention being focused more on Roy. But not to you. He'd never admit it to you. You'd probably find it unattractive and then he'd really never have a chance.

“Yeah, no, im enjoying the talking. Always forget how well you and roy know each other”

“Oh yeah he just knows how to get me going. You know how he is”

Jason doesn’t know how he does it.

Like some leap of faith.

Some, jealousy super-powered leap.

He tries to be non-chalant about it.

“It’d be nice to do this again sometime. Maybe without Roy around.”

BOY'S HEART IS POUNDING

Sipping on his beer, looking down at it instead to avoid eye contact with you so he doesn't lose his cool.

Or someone show on his face that he is actually shitting bricks

You don't respond for a second and the alarm bells start going off in his head

WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY-

"It would be nice," you say, "Could we make it a date instead?"

He's smiling, turning to nod at you, "Course we can."

But his internal dialogue is just straight screaming at himself

"IDIOT YOU SHOULD'VE MADE IT OBVIOUS YOU WANTED IT TO BE A DATE IN THE FIRST PLACE"

The things jealousy will make you do

Roy comes back and sits down

Jason's into the conversation now

It doesn't really matter that Roy is still making you laugh

because he's not the one holding your hand under the table

AH I HOPE YOU LIKE -missy

I also love a jealous petty man (as long as it doesn't become toxic and he doesn't use it as an excuse to be an asshole)

[yanderemommabean]

Can we get some yandere Geto going down on a transmasc reader? Pretty please 🙏

((Hi I hope this is ok! Im not too confident but here goes nothing!))

You were so sensitive, head pressing back against the pillow, thighs shaking against your will as you were put on full display. Sugurus calloused fingers made you feel a fluttering pressure as you closed your eyes and try to process anything this gorgeous psycho was saying. 

“You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you, yet you refuse to let me service you the way you deserve. Tsk tsk tsk”  Geto clicks his tongue in disapproval, dragging his fingers up and down your folds as he wears a rather lascivious smile. “My good boy deserves praise, worship, to be given nothing but devotion, yet you starve us of that. You know I can’t let this continue, don’t you?” 

His voice dropped an octave, deep and angered “You’re slutty hole is quivering for me already. Aching and wanting. Why? Why deny yourself the pleasure we want to give you? It’s angering to think that you’ve been starved of my touch, -my love-  for so long” 

He flicks at your sensitive bud, groaning as he listens to you gasp and struggle to make a sentence. A small bubble of pleasure was forming in his stomach as he drags his thumb up and down your dewy folds, your cute dick begging to be sucked and toyed with as he made you who you were meant to be- 

His and his alone. His to toy with and take apart and to put back together. 

You whimper, barely able to form words as he cruelly begins to flick at your cock again, more wetness dripping from you as Geto presses his face into your wiry hairs and inhales, deep and guttural. Oh how dare you keep this from him? You’ll have to be properly punished once the blood flow is back into his brain and not currently making his cock a precum drooling mess. 

“W-wait no! I-I’m sorry!” You managed to garble out, but it wasn’t really any use, was it? You know Geto is a powerful man, he takes what he wants no questions asked. If he wants to toy with you…

Your body goes taught, his tongue dragging up your skin and swirling around your cock before giving it a gentle suck, making your hips raise and your voice strained. Oh holy fuck his mouth is dangerous- 

He indulges himself, tongue tracing up and down all of your folds as he watches your cock twitch and beg for attention, sliding his wet muscle inside of you as his fingers stroke you up and down, methodical and precise, as if he knew exactly how you liked it. 

Which he should. He’s had his eyes on you for a while. He’s seen you in more ways than you could ever be aware, and he’s been driven nuts by every denial you give to his proposals and offers. 

Well, no more. Geto will have you worshiped and praised, even if he has to chain you down and let the people…have a taste themselves. And who could blame him? How you felt on his tongue, your flavor, a godly nectar he couldn’t get enough of, oh he’s going to drink his fill and then some!

You practically howled, feeling Geto hold your thighs down to get his tongue in deeper, face pressed as close as it could get as his fingers continue to stroke you, hungry and starved like he couldn't get enough. 

You go to try and bite your sleeve to silence yourself, but a harsh bite to your thigh stops you in your tracks, Getos eyes furious and feral as he catches his breath. “If you hide your heavenly melodies from me, I can assure you, you’re going to regret it. Be louder for me. Let me hear you cry as you fall apart”. 

You swallow, eyes watery as Geto continues to lap away at your cock, fingers now curling inside of you and fluttering to hit that specific ridge, causing you to yelp and tense your legs. 

You were helpless, riding the man's face and fingers desperately, unable to push away the instinct to cum, to cover his face in your mess and give the man what he wants. Fruitlessly you yank at his hair, his lips coming to suck on your cock as his fingers crook just right, causing your vision to turn white and your knuckles to clench in his hair. 

The explosion of pleasure has you panting and gasping, words failing to leave your lips as Geto slurps, sucks, and curls his fingers again and again, brutally like he’s punishing you. And in a way, he was. You have turned down every kind offer He’s given you to join his “group”. To be one of the enlightened. No more. He’ll have you with him, and he’s going to ravish you until you simply can’t leave. 

It’s hard to walk when one's legs can’t work, after all. And you’re so sensitive, it should be fun watching you come apart again and again, until you’re crying those pretty tears and can’t push him (or his love) away anymore. 

“Fuck fuck FUCK- “ you cry, that cord in your core finally snapping after a few more rough sucks, his fingers not stopping as you rock against his face and go still, shaking and gasping as the pleasure shoots through you and your eyes can’t help but roll back. 

Oh what a sight to behold. You, sweat covered and disheveled, panting and hiccuping little pleas as Geto continues to toy with you. You aren’t being fair here you know? Being this precious is dangerous with a man like him. 

You wince, a pitiful noise being made as Geto kisses up your stomach, but only moves to hold your legs open again, making sure he left another bite to your other thigh as he feels you quiver and tremble beneath him. “Atta boy. See? That wasn’t so bad now was it?” he asks, his skilled fingers coming to rub up and down your still twitching cock. “Now keep behaving. We have a long night ahead of us, I’d rather it be easy on you”

-Mommabean (I hope you like!)

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

ooh! what about vox hypnotising the reader to sign a soul contract with him? 👀

love your work :D

This is gonna be angsty, but not in the way you'd normally expect >:3

More Than Anything [Vox x Reader]

"Ẇ̸̛̞̑h̸͈̰͕͊͝y̴̪͍̠̽ won't you let me do this for you?!"

Vox glitched out as you turned away from him. The two of you had been arguing for at least an hour and his nerves had frayed thin a good while ago.

The two of you had only been dating for a couple of months when some sneaky jackass paparazzi demon snagged a picture of you two h*lding hands while on a date. The image had spread like wildfire and everyone was curious to dig up as much information on you as possible. Rumors about the legitimacy of the photo, Valentino and Vox's neverending situationship, arguments about your character, you name it. It was all anyone could talk about.

At first, you both legitimately believed things would smooth over and the public would move on to the next celebrity scandal within a short amount of time. Reality only partially heeded your predictions.

The occasional talk show would hang on to the topic and some people had ship wars about it on sinblr, but for the most part, hell had moved on. Vox's enemies, however, had not.

It was a day just like any other when it happened. You had been on your way back to your apartment after visiting Vox at his office. He'd been having a rough day and you brought him food for an impromptu lunch date to lift his spirits. You had just turned the corner to the street you lived on, the looming tower of the Vee's still watching over you from afar. Hands grabbed you from an alleyway and you didn't even have a chance to gasp, let alone scream as you struggled against the sickly-sweet-smelling cloth pressed against your face.

You kicked and screamed, but felt your body growing heavy fast. You knew how to protect yourself to an extent, but you weren't a powerful sinner, nor trained for something like this. Your vision blurred and the last thing you saw were bright cyan flashes and blood splattered across the brick walls as you slipped into darkness.

When you woke up wearing your favorite oversized hoodie in the large bed of your boyfriend. You were confused as fuck until the memory slammed back into you. You call out for Vox and hear something crash nearby and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps before he yanks open the doors to his room with a frazzled look.

At first, he'd been all over you. He'd been the one to clean the blood off of your unconscious body after he slaughtered the group of thugs in a white-hot rage. You hadn't known it, but Vox had been secretly watching you on his monitors to make sure you got home safely. He'd started doing it long before the two of you had started dating and the potential of what could have happened if he hadn't been stalking you out of the goodness of his heart chilled him to his core.

"I could've lost you," he grits out as his shaking claws dig into the sheets beneath him. You cupped his face and tried to reassure him, but he only dug his claws in deeper, shredding the fabric with fear and stress. He lets out a shaky sigh before his hand lifts to cup your own. His expression shifts as he looks up at you. "But never again."

"What do you mean?" you ask him softly as you search his eyes for the meaning behind the look he gave you.

He takes both your hands in his own, placing them on your lap. "Make a deal with me. Sign a contract. If I have control over your soul, then I'll always know where you are," he said seriously. "I'll be able to keep you safe."

You shake your head, leaning up to kiss his screen. "No, baby we've talked about this before. I know I'm not the strongest sinner, but I don't want anyone to own my soul but me. I'll get stronger and one day you won't need to worry anymore. Just give me time."

"We don't have time," Vox snapped. The vision of you passed out in the alleyway, covered in the thug's blood was ingrained in the back of his mind. It was at this moment he cursed his active imagination. All he could think of was the horrible scenarios you could be in if he didn't take action.

At first, the two of you were able to talk sweetly enough while you tried to change the other's mind. But as you kept going in circles, you both got more frustrated and it eventually blew up into the fight you were having now.

"Just ļ̷̲͊ę̸̇ț̷̭̅ ̸̖̝̠̔̋͆m̵̧̈́͋é̷̈́͜͠ͅ do this for you!" Vox screamed as he yanked you to turn and face him. His expression was distraught, his face short-circuiting from the anger and fear.

His expression crumbled as he let his head drop. "Please..."

Vox's claws twitch against your shoulders, "I'm sorry..." He mutters softly under his breath.

You look down at him and open your mouth to say something, only to gasp as red and blue fill your vision. Vox shakes as he watches your face relax, your mouth hanging open, and the reflection of his pained expression and black hypnotic spirals in your half-lidded eyes.

"But I can't lose you," he said as he trembled. "You're the only good thing I've had in hell and I can't replace you."

The room sparked with electricity and the entire tower powered down as he made you sign the deal. Your soul for his endless devotion and protection. Even if one day you discovered what he did. Even if you hated him for it. He'd be yours until the end of time.

You blink slowly, shaking your head and feeling a little fuzzy as you look down at Vox. His head was still lowered and you remembered he had just apologized to you and said he'd believe in you to get stronger. You smile softly at him and lift under the edge of his screen to make him look at you.

"Thank you for understanding," you say as you gently kiss him. "I promise, you'll have nothing to worry about. I'll get stronger and we'll be okay."

Vox sighed, looking at you with a tired, loving smile as he kissed you back. "Yeah... Everything will be just fine."

[queenof-curses]

Change my Mind

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Toji’s favorite position to have you.

Tags: Minors DNI! Cunnilingus, Sloppy, Sloppy, explicit, light ddlg

Masterlist | More Jujutsu Kaisen

—

You hated this position.

Everything about it made you feel exposed. The whole situation had you feeling folded like a pretzel. Blood rushed to your head as your body was tipped upside down. Large hands held your ass in place, your cheeks spread by calloused fingers.

Toji insisted that this was his favorite way to have you- to eat you, that is... His large tongue dipped into your folds, easily finding the little button that sets you off. The wet muscle flicked your clit eagerly, pulling soft moans from your lips.

“That’s right baby,” he goaded you. “Let me hear your sweet voice.”

His long fingers worked your hole, slowly pumping in and out of you as he lapped up your juices. Wet squelches sounded from your pussy, making you blush at the lewdness of it all. You could feel the tips of your ears burn as you responded to his actions.

“Oh- oh god Toji,” you moaned out. “Please… fuck, please…”

“Mmm” he responded, removing his fingers. “What did you need, Princess?”

The loss of fullness had you begging for him. He knew what you wanted- what you needed from him. God, the man knew how to sexually frustrate you to no end and he always used it to his advantage. Edging you until you were close- then pulling away. He loved the way you shook when your orgasm finally took you, sending electric shocks through your whole body. It made him fucking hard.

Holding your ass in his hands, he parted your cheeks, opening you wide for him. Making eye contact with you- he opens his mouth. You watch as a glob of spit falls from his mouth directly into the hole he holds open. Your cunt quivers around nothing, accepting it as if it were a gift.

You moaned at his actions- it sent your mind reeling as the blood rushed to your head and threatened your consciousness. You needed to cum now- you were tired of his teasing.

“Please make me cum Daddy… Fuck- please, I’ll do anything… please!” you begged him. Your pride was out the window as you were locked in this upside down position by a man that held the power over your orgasm.

“Alright Princess… Daddy will make you cum, just make sure you don’t hide those pretty little moans for me, yeah?” Toji asks, his grin wide.

“Please Sir… I promise,” you respond, voice barely above a whisper as you give in to your pleasures.

Toji’s hot tongue dips into your hole, slurping up the mix of his spit and your juices. He makes a point to do it loudly- showing just how eager he is for his little Princess. Gliding his tongue along your folds, it stops point blank on your clit before latching on.

The moment his lips wrap around your clit, you lose it. Thrashing against his grip he toys with you before using a hand to drive two fingers into your waiting cunt. Your walls accept him with need. You would fall over if his other hand weren’t holding you against him.

He palmed your cunt with fervor, driving his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, making sure to curl them just right inside of you. Toji loved the way you sucked him in, imagining his fat cock sinking into you instead- it made him eager to make you cream around him.

His tongue danced with your clit, sucking it with his lips as you bucked against him. Your legs thrashed around you, not knowing how to handle this much pleasure all at once. It made you crazed as your mind sought out nothing but to finish.

“Fuck Toji,” you cried out, “I’m- I’m gonna cum.”

His paced sped up, “that’s it baby… cum on my fucking face.”

And you did just that. White flashed across your vision as your eyes rolled back. Pure, hot pleasure soared through your entire body- from the tips of your toes that rested on his strong shoulders- to the top (or bottom in this position) of your head. You screamed against him, holding on to anything you could grab on to. He pulled you closer, wrapping your body in his strong arms.

Pulling you in for a passionate embrace, Toji licked at your clit as your orgasm raked through you. Your body convulsed against his as if you were possessed. You couldn’t think straight, unintelligible mumbles of “thank yous” and swears fell from your lips before your body went limp in his grasp.

Relaxing against him, it takes more than a few minutes before you could even open your eyes. Locking gazes with you, his smug facial expression makes you giggle.

“Don’t even say it,” you joke with him.

“Say what?” he asks, feigning innocence. “You came surprisingly hard for someone who, ‘hates this position.’” He repeats your earlier words in a mocking voice.

His sarcastic tone has you pushing yourself off him, rolling your eyes but still stifling giggles. As you turn to move away from him, a strong grip on your ankle has you turning back.

“I don’t think so, Princess. You have something to take care of before anything else.” He says, pointing to his very hard, very large, erection.

It was going to be a long night.

Thank you for reading! All likes and reblogs mean the most 🖤 to send a request, please submit to my ask box.