#I ought to get caught up one of these days

[tc-doherty]

Counting, did you guys know I've written 28 novels!! wow!!!

And only like. 5 of them have ever been read by someone else lmao

not counting new drafts, of course, although I do completely rewrite every book for every draft. Counting those would bring it somewhere around 60

well anyway. that's kind of cool!

[moon-my-beloved]

neighbors (tf141 x fem! reader)

Introduction: the universe is never on your side.

wake up, go to work, eat, read, and go to sleep.

that had been your routine for the last couple months ever since you moved in to your new place. your new home.

it really didn’t bother you at all. the solitude, the quietness, the undeniable lack of socialization you had, it was okay with you even if might have looked like the most miserable life to others.

it was a great place to the say the least. your last resort to finally getting the fuck out of the apartment you had shared with your now ex-roommate. you couldn’t bare living there another day hearing her constant sexual acts with every guy she brought in like they were some kind of rabid animals. gross.

there was really no need to say goodbye either. jumping out of your bed in excitement when you got the message from the real estate agent that the place was ready for you to move in.

finally, finally after so many years of busting your ass and saving just enough, you had your own place. not hesitating to pack your things that same day and shove everything into your old but still functional car.

you were free.

the moving was tedious and exhausting, working your muscles out when your furniture finally arrived and giving an awkward smile to your next door neighbor which you later got to find out that her name was charlotte, but insisted on you calling her just auntie lottie. she was a nice old lady, mid 70s who frequently brought you some of her delicious homemade baking with every new recipe she came across. who were you to reject free food?

auntie lottie was probably the only person you had actually talk to ever since moving in, occasionally sitting on her porch just to chat or helping her out with her garden at times.

it was one friday afternoon where the weather was a bit too cold to sit outside and found yourself sitting on auntie lotties couch as she talked about her children, grandchildren, or just the latest gossip. you were more on the listening end of the spectrum, at times putting in your two cents when she asked of your families whereabouts and pointed out ‘how such a young lady shouldn’t be living by herself! you ought to have a husband by now.’

you knew she didn’t mean it with bad intentions but it made your cheeks heat up in embarrassment with the reminder that you were truly utterly unsuccessful when it came to relationships. sure, you had your fair share of partners and they never lasted longer than a few months before they were heading out the door when they realized your lack of intimacy.

it just never felt right and you really couldn’t blame them, despite it leaving an ache in your chest. you really don’t quite remember how the topic of conversation was brought up but she had mentioned that your other neighbors just across from you would be here soon.

“really? I thought no one lived there..” furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as you brought the cup of tea up to your lips. it had been empty ever since you got here. no visible cars or sign of life making itself known for you to determine if someone actually lived there. you just figured it was empty.

“they’re an odd bunch but they’re sweet and handsome. most of the time they’re gone. no worries though, I’ll introduce you to them, dear.” you really weren’t fond of that idea and by the way her eyes wrinkled with that sly look she gave you, a worried chuckle made its way past your lips.

“sure, that would be nice.”

true to her word, they arrived the very next day.

the engine of a black SUV waking you up from your three-hour nap that had your joints popping back in place after stretching your limbs out of their locked positions with how long you had been lying down on the couch.

that wasn’t really what caught your attention though, fighting off the idea of just going back to sleep before your ears caught on the multitude of voices from outside. reluctantly, you get yourself out from the confines of your soft blanket and sit up on your knees to open one of the blinds with your fingers.

your eyes widened at the sight before you. four big men, all of them carrying a variety of duffle bags make their way out of the car. some of them stretching after what you presume a long drive.

you can’t quite get a good look at them but you could tell they were all pretty good-looking even from the distance. starting with the one who probably had better hair days with the way his mohawk was a total mess, leaning against the tallest man you have ever seen as he rubs the sleep off his eyes. skull mask doesn’t seem to be bothered by the shorter man’s tactics. an arm wrapped around his waist to keep him from falling face first on the pavement as they make their way to the front door.

flicking your eyes towards the other side of the car, you zero in on probably the most gorgeous guy you have ever seen. he wears a cap, the UK flag displayed on it and you almost gasp when he turns just enough for you to see how smooth his skin looks. totally not jealous. the last of the group finally gets out from the drivers seat. he looks older than the other three but his stance screams authority and respect once he adjusts himself. these were the neighbors lottie was talking about?

but before you could ponder the fact that you were living across four big scary men, mutton chops turns around towards your direction and makes eye contact with you.

you flinch away from the window a little too hard, tumbling your way over the couch and down onto the floor.

“shit!” you quickly cover your mouth, lying on the ground in defeat and your pride more broken than it already is for at least a few minutes before you slowly get yourself up and warily open the blinds again only to find that they had already headed inside.

letting out a small sigh of relief, you sit down on the cold floor. tilting your head back to rest against the cushion of your couch as you beg to any god out there that they didn’t catch you basically eyeing them down.

auntie lottie will definitely hear about this on your next ‘girls night’.

a/n: this is me forgiving myself after not uploading something for 2-3 months.? I’m sorry ;-;

[nicksolemnlyswears]

STAY WITH US

this oneshot can be read as a standalone.

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME (PT. 2 HELAENA'S TURN)

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader x helaena targaryen

word count: ~2.7k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of death of a child, mentions of blood, light cursing

a/n: so i lied, so sorry, my apologies, remember how i said i wanted this part to be smut? well it didn't happen. in the end it didn't seem right because these oneshots originated form a place of care and comfort [not horniness like usual]

that being said i am open to doing a series of small oneshots based on their relationship that are more spicy because regardless it lives rent free on my brain and i'd love to share the pervertedness they'd get up to. also i've never written a threesome and that seems like a good writing exercise.

hope you like this oneshot. it's really sweet and when i was thinking of what else to do with them it simply clicked. my only wish is for it to have the same comfort provoking feeling as the other two. while this little series was written as a way for me to feel better about these characters it makes me happy to know it served the same purpose for a lot of you guys. also this was my first time writing for HoTD and you're all so nice ;) THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE.

enjoy!

Without Jaehaerys by her side, his twin sister Jaehaera must adjust to being alone. Her lifelong playmate is gone, and now she ought to find her place as an only child.

The silver-haired girl restlessly jumps through different activities, searching for the one that will entertain her long enough without company. It is difficult because each time she successfully gets distracted, she turns to catch her brother's attention, only to find he's no longer there.

Queen Helaena watches her as she stitches together a new embroidery piece for a dress. The Queen spent her days with both her children, but now that one of them is gone, she spends nearly every waking moment with her daughter. Observing. Protecting. Alert.

"The three-headed dragon shall rise once more," Helaena mumbles under her breath. The maids ignore her mumblings. The Queen's words don't make sense half the time.

A squeal of delight from her daughter prompts the needle to pierce Helaena's finger and a bead of blood forms at the pad of it. Looking up, she finds you picking up Jaehaera and kissing her chubby cheeks. The girl is enamored by her cousin and the attention you provide.

"Good morrow, 'Laena," you brightly greet her, setting down Jaehaera and sitting by her on the floor. "Have you broken fast yet?"

Helaena places a hand in yours as a greeting and nods kindly, assuring you she's been eating all her meals. At times, her appetite turns into nausea as glimpses of her dead son invade her senses, but she tries fighting through it.

She closes her eyes and thinks of anything else—primarily you. You who distract her and treat her with such care without judgment of her eccentricities. It's odd how she's caught herself multiple times seeking your approval.

As Helaena returns to her stitching, Jaehaera bounces over and falls into your arms. "I wish for my hair to be like yours."

"Allow me, Princess," Jaehaera's nursemaid intervenes. She does not wish to be seen as lazy and incapable of her job to care for the children.

The small Princess holds tightly onto you, hiding her face on your chest as she settles on your lap. "No, I want my cousin to do it. She's a Princess, and I want Princess's hair."

You giggle at her words and gesture to the nursemaid that it's alright. "Come on, sweet girl, sit," you coo, positioning her in front of you.

One of the maids hands you a hairbrush, and you begin your work. As a Princess, your hair is mostly styled by your maids, but every lady should know how to style it appropriately.

"You're such a pretty girl, Jaehaera. Did you know that?" You talk to distract her from squirming too much. She's an impatient little thing, like her father.

Jaehaera giggles sound throughout the room. She hasn't laughed like that since her brother died. It brings a sad smile to Helaena's lips.

"You're prettier," Jaehaera whispers bashfully, her cheeks a healthy hue of pink.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're much more beautiful. Do you know why?"

Jaehaera shakes her head, causing you to hold tightly onto the intricate plaits you're weaving in her hair. You inadvertently smile at her benightedness.

"Because you look just like your mummy, and she's very beautiful, and she's a Queen," you gasp lightly, creating a tone of excitement in your voice.

Although she's kept her nose down while stitching, Helaena's cheeks burn just as brightly as her daughters. Your words continue to flatter her. You have a way with words that can make even the most ordinary of townsfolk feel special.

With a small, excited gasp, Jaehaera asks, "Will I be Queen one day?"

"There's always a possibility," you hum, pining the remaining plait into her hair. It is hard to explain the complexities of succession and legacy to a child when there is a current war debating that same subject. "All done, go over to the mirror."

"She adores you," Helaena sighs as she watches her daughter fawn over her new hairstyle.

"And I, her. She's the sweetest girl ever."

Helaena turns to look at you and sees the soft smile gracing your lips. Your eyes then catch hers, and your smile broadens. It makes her wonder what her life would be like if you were not around. How would she have dealt with her emotions?

"I must go, but can you come to my bedchambers tonight? There is a matter I must discuss with you," Helaena says timidly, casting aside her embroidery.

"As you wish, my Queen." You can't fault her for preferring to speak in the depth of the night when the castle sleeps, and there are no wandering eyes to pass judgment.

It gives Helaena whiplash when you effortlessly switch from calling her name to calling her 'my Queen.' She rather enjoys both terms, especially when you call her yours.

Helaena bids you farewell with a kiss on the cheek, blissfully unaware of its effect on you. Such displays of affection are not rare in court, but lately, their significance has changed for you, as Helaena has never been one to indulge in court etiquette when it involves physical touch.

When the sun has disappeared over the horizon, and the castle has quieted down, you make your way to the Queen's bed chambers.

You have always been inclined to stay in the shadows, where it's safe. You are a sheep amongst a den of wolves, and if you draw too much attention to yourself, danger will follow.

You have failed so far, considering you enjoy the company of the King and Queen. Grief unexpectedly brought you together and made your bond steadfast, but wherever Aegon and Helaena go, watchful gazes follow, thus making you part of the spectacle as well.

Otto and Alicent Hightower are taking the reins of this unnecessary war, but you feel safe under Aegon's and Helaena's careful watch. You believe they will protect you from any danger coming from within the castle walls, at the very least.

You're doing your mother a great disservice as you strengthen the bond of the King and Queen. The ache of losing a child will forever remain in their hearts, and waves of pain continue to crash, but that thick fog of grief that was cast upon them has slowly started to lift, thanks to you.

Pushing open the door to Helaena's bedchambers, you step into the room. It's well into the night, and the candlelight illuminates the room. You stumble over your steps when you notice Aegon and Helaena standing close together as if they were about to kiss.

"My apologies, your graces. I believed the Queen to be alone," you bow your head, red painting your cheeks. It's a gesture that originates from embarrassment rather than submissiveness.

"Do not apologize. We wished to speak to you," Aegon speaks, beckoning you deeper into the room.

He offers you a goblet of wine, which you accept gracefully to alleviate the dizzying wave of nerves you're feeling. You've never been alone with Aegon and Helaena. People have always been around, and up to a fortnight ago, they barely spoke to one another.

The ruling couple sought your counsel regarding their marriage, recognizing you as an intermediary. You offered your advice to the best of your abilities, considering you have yet to marry.

With time and encouragement, they reached out to each other for comfort. Piece by piece, they were able to speak and share the emotions that troubled them. Nonetheless, they kept you closer than ever.

You're the calm amidst the storm.

You take a drink of the sweet wine to busy yourself. Helaena and Aegon stand side by side, his hand on the small of her back as Helaena plays with her fingers. They're backlit by the fire burning by the fireplace. It casts a warm glow over their figures, making the situation seem much more intimate. You're certainly intruding.

"We wish to thank you for everything you've done for us recently," Helaena breaks the creeping silence. She's just as nervous as you are, if not more.

"Helaena and I have been thinking about how to repay you for your generosity," Aegon continues, staring intently back at you to gauge your reaction to his words. He's afraid of reading you wrong and fucking things up—like he usually does.

You instantly shake your head, "As I said before, there is no need-"

Helaena's following words cause silence to befall as you stare back at them in surprise. A sort of surprise they cannot read. "We wish to wed you," Helaena blurts nervously, her fingers twisting together.

This is not a moment to speak in riddles. Helaena is fully aware of the situation before her and wishes nothing more than for you to stay by their side, no matter the cost.

For once in her life, she hasn't felt lonely in the castle. She has an ally she can trust and confide in.

You've been the subject of Aegon and Helaena's conversations for numerous nights. At first, it was difficult to understand that they both held deep affection towards you while caring for each other. They debated for a long time about what to do about it and they agreed on one thing wholeheartedly—you only deserved the best.

Then, it came to Aegon.

He's named after Aegon' The Conqueror' Targaryen. The King took over the seven kingdoms with his sister wives by his side.

A simple Valyrian tradition would solve their dilemma while strengthening his claim to the throne. It's poetic, a part of history being re-enacted.

"Pardon?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You stare back at them with wide eyes as they jump from Aegon to Helaena and back to Aegon.

The goblet in your hand lightly shakes along with your hand. You place it on a nearby table, afraid of spilling it. Surely, you misheard.

"Our affection grows greater day by day. More than we ever thought possible," Helaena confesses, desperately reaching for your hand.

Your gaze falls on Aegon to seek his opinion, and he nods in agreement. There is not much to say. You have proved yourself valuable to them in a way that is much too important. You serve to keep them sane and emotionally stable. A feat no one has cared to accomplish before.

You do not use Aegon as a puppet or manipulate him to achieve sinister goals on behalf of his name, much like the rest of the court does. Those people only care for power, even if they break Aegon piece by piece. They destroy him while you take the time to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

"Such drastic actions must not be taken. I merely offered you comfort when you needed it because I care for you both," you stutter, pressing a hand to your forehead. All of a sudden, the room is warm, and a layer of perspiration forms on the back of your neck.

Aegon grunts and approaches you, cupping your face in his palms, "That is precisely why we wish to do this. You have cared for us like no one has before, including ourselves. You planted yourself in our souls, and now we cannot let you go lest we go insane. If you do not feel the same, say it, but do not lie to us."

His tone is firm, yet he cannot disguise the pleading behind it. He's never wanted something as much as he wants you.

"I-" Your palms ghost over the top of his.

It is all too much. The prospect of being wed looms over your head like a threat. Otto Hightower will have no qualms about using your lack of a husband as a war strategy. It should not be his decision in the first place, but it is out of your hands as you're considered a prisoner to him.

You would be a liar if you said you did not reciprocate their feelings. They've been present for a while now, it is why comforting them comes so easily to you. Seeing them hurt only pains you.

With this new opportunity, you will no longer be used. You will not be sold to some old lord in the countryside for the gain of a few hundred men. You would be protected.

Most importantly, you will marry a man and a woman who love you. Yes, they are broken, but with you by their side, they will thrive and rise to the occasion.

Aegon's lilac eyes beg you to accept their proposal. "I feel emotions I thought impossible. They are confusing and overwhelming, but they are real," you admit.

Relief floods over Aegon, and he can't help but release a sigh of relief. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a silent thank you to the old gods and the new.

"Will you become our wife? Our lifelong companion?" Helaena asks, coming up behind you. You feel her breath on your neck as she leans her head on your shoulder.

One word is enough to respond. One simple word will change your life. For good or bad is to be determined.

"Yes," you breathe, reaching for her hand. The smile on Aegon's lips and Helaena's giggles in your ear make it all worth it.

Aegon needed to do things right so no one could argue against your union. He contacted the Septon himself, and only a day later, after his proposal, the Valyrian ceremony took place.

He clearly instructed his guard and the Septon that they must not tell anyone, or there would be consequences.

The ceremony is quick and private amongst the gardens of the Red Keep. You wear the traditional red and gold robes and headpieces that match Aegon's.

A red dragon decorates the front of your garb, matching Helaena's golden one on her dress. She stands to the side with a faint smile, Jaehaera clinging to her dress.

Aegon carefully cuts your lip with the dragon glass. As blood surges to the surface, he presses his thumb to the cut and later spreads it across your skin. You repeat the same on his lips, staring apologetically back at him, yet the burning pain does not compare to the pain he's felt before. It's almost pleasurable as he takes in the symbolism of the gesture.

Cutting your palms, you let the blood that will bind you together for eternity fall onto the goblet. You lock eyes with Aegon as you take a drink from it, passing it to him a moment later.

He was not raised surrounded by Targaryen customs, but he has a new deep appreciation for them. The ceremony is deeply intimate as they share the blood that will mark them as one.

With a couple of final words, the Septon concludes the ceremony and with the knowledge that you are entirely theirs, Aegon crashes his lips against yours.

Aegon stayed firm in his words. He did not wish to sully your name, so he waited until the moment was right. The reward is much too sweet.

It is the first time you've shared a kiss with Aegon, and it is unlike anything you've felt before. In the past, you've snuck kisses in dark corners of the Red Keep, but none have ever kissed you with the intensity Aegon has to offer.

Helaena approaches your tangled embrace, and as you resurface for a breath, she presses her much more delicate lips on yours. The kiss is so different yet the same simultaneously. The intent behind it is identical while the pace is slower and sultrier.

Yours and Aegon’s blood coats her lips and it’s as if she also partook on the ceremony. Your heart beats intensely inside your chest but you’re happy.

Finally, you three are bonded, destined to stay together for eternity.

Jaehaerys will forever be missed. His life has become a mystery; Aegon and Helaena will never see it fulfilled. But in this tragedy, the gods were kind to Aegon and Helaena and provided a new person to love, cherish, and join their family.

were you expecting a good old throuple situation? eh, eh (pretend i'm wiggling my eyebrows and nudging your side with my elbow). im just saying she's perfect for their little dysfunctional family and the drama it will create with the Hightowers and Targaryens? immaculate.

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and gushing about hel and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

[naburi]

HAVE YOU DONE IT BEFORE?

HUH YUNJIN X READER

FT. LE SSERAFIM, NEW JEANS MINJI AND AESPA GISELLE

TAGS: VIRGIN, SIZE KINK, MOUTH CUM, CREAMPIE

3K WORDS

College is a different world. Girls celebrate when they take someone’s virginity. Body counts became a social status. The campus finds out that one of the freshmen in the basketball team is still a virgin. Yunjin, a popular sophomore, takes this as a challenge. On Halloween night, she sought to have your first time.

“How can I get the basketball team’s attention?” Yunjin is laying on a bed with her friends, brainstorming what costume they will wear at the Halloween party. “Let’s wear some Jerseys!” Kazuha sits up, surprised herself that she came up with that idea. “That’s not a costume,” chaewon interrupted. “It doesn’t matter, what jersey will we wear?” Yunjin is excited with the idea.

All heads are turned when Yunjin and her group sets foot in the Halloween party. For this year’s Halloween. It will be celebrated in one of the frat houses. It is a big house, and selected people can go to a few rooms to have “privacy.” They don’t need to look for the basketball team as they are the loudest and the most chaotic boys on the campus. They are seated in the lounge area of the house surrounded by girls who're also shooting their shots.

“The fuck?” Yunjin blurted when a girl who was dressed in a punk princess costume bumped into her. Minji, a freshman who looks too young to be in college, apologizes quickly. She’s looking around her friends who left her to be with some boys. “Watch where you’re going! Gosh,” Yunjin let it go just because she doesn’t want her mood to get ruined.

The girls walk up in front of the players, wanting to get noticed. A senior saw the girls wearing Lakers jerseys. “Lakers! Lakers!” The team erupted in a chant. “Do you know the lakers?” Another senior asks the girls. “Tell us about them for tonight” Yunjin rebutted with a smile. Kazuha’s plan of wearing a basketball jersey just worked. Now all she needs to do is to have private time with the freshman.

She’s looking around to find the Freshman as he only saw him in pictures. The freshman is in the corner in between some sophomore’s players. Yunjin’s eyes widened when she noticed that the freshman was bigger than some players. The freshman has been recruited in the basketball team based on physical aspect alone. You are the back up center of the team as they ought to develop your skill set with his 4 year tenure in college.

You are taller and bigger than anyone your age, that’s why you grew up being an outcast as everyone feels intimidated by your sheer size. This hinders your social skills, thus being shy around people. Yunjin pauses for a second, thinking if she still will pursue you. She is not a stranger to taking big cocks but your body tells you that you might have the biggest cock she will ever see.

Chaewon notices the brunette girl’s hesitation. “Can you imagine how popular you might get by taking the virginity of the biggest guy on the campus?” The short-haired girl said. She might not be able to walk properly for a few days but the fame she will have is enough for her to continue on her pursuit. “Hey, big boy~” Yunjin said to you as she sat on your lap. “Damn you got this boy!”, “don’t let us down big boy!” The basketball team cheered in excitement as one of their freshmen just got a chick for tonight.

“H-hi,” you said awkwardly as Yunjin was sitting on your right thigh. The brunette smiles as she thought it would be easy to get you tonight. “I heard a lot of things about you,” She said while holding the guy’s arms, gently feeling his muscles. You took a big gulp as this is the first time girls advance on you like this. “I heard you were strong…” she continued as her fingers ran all over the guy's arms. “I heard rumors on how strong you are!” Your teammate said. Yunjin’s friends are now in between the players.

But one girl has caught Yunjin's attention, she has long pink hair and is wearing a Spider-Man costume. One of the senior players has his arms around the girl as they are obviously flirting with each other. The girl looks familiar but she doesn’t know her name. She has seen her a few times in the hallway before, concluding that the girl is also a sophomore like her.

“Lift her up!” Your teammate shouts. “Lift her up, lift her up!” The rest of the team chant in unison. You look at Yunjin waiting for a response. She just smiles at you before whispering: “lift me up like a trophy.” The way she said it turns you on. For a brief moment, you forgot how socially awkward you are. You put your hands on her armpit as you lift Yunjin before standing up. Yunjin is surprised at how easy it is for you to lift her. She felt something… knowing that you can just toss her around like a rag doll. Pools of fantasies flash on her mind.

The team erupts with the display of your strength. The pink haired girl has been also lifted up in the air by the player she’s flirting with. Yunjin felt annoyed as she doesn’t like sharing the spotlight with another girl. Giselle doesn’t care about what’s happening around her. All she cares about is that getting lifted in the air might be the last straw. She wraps her legs around the basketball player and hugs him into a kiss.

The basketball team and the crowd pause for a moment before the crowds erupt in a roar. They are all shook by the sudden show of affection between the two. The crowd continues to cheer as Giselle has been put on top of the guy's shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. She carries Giselle upstairs to get a room of themselves.

“You should also get a room!”, “carry her as well!” Your teammate said excited for you to bag the brunette. Yunjin see’s this perfect opportunity and took it. “Yes! Let’s get to know more about each other upstairs!” She said giggling but her eyes were hinting at something else. This makes you nervous but you don't want to disappoint Yunjin. You pick her up by the waist and legs, carrying him upstairs like a princess.

“Have you done it before?” Yunjin asked as if she didn't know the answer. “D-done what before?” You know what she’s insinuating but you don’t know how to answer her. You can lie and tell that you have an experience but she may sense your inexperience or you can just tell the truth but you thought this will turn her off. “Hmm, let’s ask a different question, have you kissed a girl before?”

“Y-Yes,” you said feeling guilty. You have been kissed on the lips by your highschool classmate before. “No no, I feel jealous,” Yunjin pouts, her face looking sad. Yunjin doesn’t really care about it, she is just acting jealous to get a reaction from you. Not knowing what to do, you try to explain yourself to her. “Can you kiss me as well?” Yunjin said hoping she can start the action by making out with you.

Agreeing with her, Yunjin sits on top of you again. She puts her two arms around your neck. You can’t look her in the eye as you don’t know exactly how to kiss a girl. “It’s okay, just close your eyes, let me kiss you,” she assures you. You close your eyes waiting for her lips, she closes the distance between your lips before giving you a peck in the lips. You thought that’s it and tried to open your eyes but you felt another kiss from her. The kiss lasted longer in your lips, and you felt her tongue trying to go inside your mouth.

Her kiss becomes more passionate and now her tongue is being persistent in entering your mouth. You feel your cock twitch as it gets harder. Yunjin notices this too as she felt your buldge. She smiles as she knows that what she’s doing is working. She continues to kiss you with now holding your face, she tries to make it as passionate as she can. She’s initiating a make out session with you.

Opening your mouth, trying to kiss her back. Her tongue finally enters your mouth as it’s inviting your tongue for a torrid kissing. This is your first time having a make out session, you try to follow her rhythm as you move your tongue but Yunjin just kisses you deeper, having her tongue exploring your mouth. Your kissing has now become a sloppy one. Mouths are wetting as you’re sharing saliva, Yunjin finally pulls back to take a breath.

Yunjin heard a loud bang that came from the opposite room but she didn’t mind it. Giselle got pinned against the wall in the other room. “Let me see your cock,” the brunette said. You froze for a moment, you don’t want to but you don’t want to turn her down as well. Yunjin continues as she didn’t receive any disapproval from you. She kneels to pull your pants down to your feet. She got shine on how big it really is.

She is expecting you to have a big cock based on your height and body but your cock is more massive than expected. It has a grit as big as your forearm. Yunjin gulps in nervousness, she is in too deep now to go back. She spits on your cock multiple times before smearing it all over your cock. She’s trying to lubricate your cock to make it easy sucking it.

You moan just by her touch, your cock is being touched by a girl for the first time. Yunjin finds it cute that you’re already moaning, she strokes your cock faster to elicit more moans from you, she doesn't get disappointed. The brunette is now looking at the thick tip of your cock, thinking if she can take it. “Imagine how popular you will get,” are the words that ring on her mind before putting your cock in her mouth.

With just your tip, Yunjin's mouth is already stretched. You’re looking at her intensely, this is the first time you've had a blowjob, you don’t want to miss any details of it. The girl got motivated by your enthusiasm. She tries to lower her face, to have more of your cock. She’s halfway through your shaft but she finally gag. Your huge cock is too much for her mouth. Her cheeks are filled up by the girth of your cock. Your dick could compete with the biggest dicks on porn sites even Yunjin knows that.

She looks back at you with helplessness written on her face. She can’t take more of it. She pulls her head up to take a needed break. Tears are forming on her eyes as she coughs. The brunette looks defeated. She worries that if the campus finds out she can’t take your cock, she might lose her popular status. She gathers herself, ties her hair up and puts your cock on her mouth again.

Yunjin tries different approaches to swallow your whole cock. First, she tried to go as slow as possible, she wanted to make herself get used to the size of your cock. This doesn’t add inches on how much of your cock she can take. Second, she tried to go fast, her head bobbing faster on your cock. With this method, she forced herself to take more than just of your massive cock. This also feels good to you, her tight mouth is sucking you over and over again.

“Mhmm! WTF?!” Yunjin was surprised by your sudden release. You don’t know how to hold it yet and she’s sucking you too good. This made the girl pull away. Her mouth is full of your load, some of it drools down on her face. She thought that she should have anticipated that you will cum fast because you’re still inexperienced. Yunjin doesn’t want to spit it out, she opens her mouth to show you the amount of cum you released on her, she puts her tongue out to show more of it before finally swallowing it.

“Ha Ha, did I suck you that good? Tell everyone I give the best head!” Yunjin hysterically laughs, she might not be able to deepthroat your whole cock, she takes your orgasm as a victory. She strokes your cock again, surprised as you didn’t lose any hardness after you just released. Yunjin hands look way too small when holding your massive cock. Even when she holds it with two hands, it will only cover a half of your cock.

The brunette stands up to remove her jeans, she makes sure to turn her back against yours to give you a good view of her ass. She pulls down her underwear, bending down as she lowers it. Yunjin has a well shaped ass. You were surprised that she has a nice ass in her petite build. The girl sits on your lap again. She sits directly on top of your cock, you can feel her wet slit grinding against your cock as Yunjin tries to tease you before taking your virginity.

The girl squats up while reaching your cock, it aligns it to her slit. You already moan as your tip enters her pussy. This made her laugh for a bit, Yunjin tries to hide the fact that she’s nervous. The girl lowers herself slowly, you can feel her tight slit hugging your cock. Just by taking the tip and some of your shaft, Yunjin struggles to sit deeper as she is already stretched out. The girl doesn’t like being in a vulnerable position, she doesn’t want you to think that she’s weak because she can’t take your cock.

she lets out a war cry before carelessly sitting deep on your cock. This made the two of you moan loudly. Yunjin is stretched out more than even, she moans in pain as your massive cock is stretching her walls to the fullest. You moan loud as this is the first time you felt your cock being inside of a pussy. Her walls are tight and warm, it’s hugging your cock like it wants you to cum already. Even with her desperate attempt, Yunjin hasn't fully sat on your cock as a whole. She just just sits on it more than how deep she deepthroat you.

The brunette is contented by this, she can just make an excuse that no girl can take your cock as a whole and this is the deepest anyone can get. Yunjin is holding on your chest as she tries to pull herself up. This made the two of you moan again loudly. Yunjin feels her walls are collapsing as your massive cock is going out of her. This sensation feels too good for you. Yunjin doesn’t care anymore. She repeatedly sits on your cock. Not caring about how painful it is.

Yunjin looks determined, she looks you directly in the eyes with glimpses of hatred. She hates how massive your cock. Yunjin keeps moaning as she continues to sit on your cock. She removed the Lakers jersey as she felt her body heating up. Yunjin's boobs are in front of you. She has small but well shaped boobs that perfectly compliments her frame. She reached for your two hands to put in her boobs.

She feels your cock twitch as you hold her boobs, Yunjin smirks for a bit, even though she's struggling with your cock. She still has full control of the situation. You grab her boobs, squeezing them gently. Yunjin unlocks her bra and removes it to give you a better view of how perfect her body is. She is a confident woman, she knows that one of her strengths is her sexy petite body. She holds your fingers trying to teach you to pinch and play with her perky boobs.

The brunette who’s on top of you knows moves faster. It doesn’t hurt her as much anymore as she gets used to your girth. She tried to go deeper but her human body really has a limit. Yunjin knows find her rhythm, you are are speechless on how good this feels, paired up the sight of a orange haired chick who’s fucking herself in your cock while her boobs is on your hands.

The girl felt your cock twitching inside her. “Cum inside me, tell everyone that I have the best pussy!” Yunjin says loudly. She picks up her pace and guides your hand to her waist to help her get stabilized. Yunjin moans as this feels good now for her too. Your cock twitches more signaling you’re about to cum. Yunjin sits on your cock as deep as possible. She let out a loud moan as your massive cock stretches her slit more. Loads of your hot cum fill her slits. Yunjin feels your cock released more inside her as you cum as much as the first one.

Yunjin tiredly lay down beside you, her slit looks like a mess, her slit is still stretched wide open as loads of cum keep flowing out of her. She made it, she finally took the most massive cock in the campus. She took the biggest freshman’s virginity. Yunjin smiles while her eyes are still closed due to how tired she is. She is already basking on this achievement. Yunjin plans to lay down for a while before going back to the party downstairs. She felt that you already stand up

“Wait for me,” Yunjin said while still catching her breath. She wants everyone to know that you did it with her. She looks confused as you are now standing on the edge of the bed. The brunette’s eyes widen when you pull her close to you. Holding her legs up with your both arms. Yunjin looks horrified when you align your cock on her slit.

[my-castles-crumbling]

teatime - December 22nd - Black brothers, mentions of jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 417

Regulus had always had trouble using his voice.

Perhaps it was because Sirius was always louder. He practically insisted on being heard, so Regulus just...allowed it. Why bother, really? Plus, if Sirius wanted to be the one always getting into trouble, who was Regulus to stop him?

Or...perhaps it was because he had more of a sense of self-preservation. He knew, mostly from watching Sirius, what the consequences were for speaking up. He'd have to be stupid to say something. It was smart, to keep quiet, right?

But as he grew older and stopped listening to his parents' skewed view of things, he realized that Sirius's wasn't loud just to be loud. Sirius was loud because he chose to be. Both because he couldn't stand the oppressive environment of their family home and because he was protecting Regulus.

And still, Regulus stayed quiet. And he hated himself for it. It made him feel sick, knowing he was turning a blind eye to the way his parents acted. Knowing that he acted like he supported it, sometimes.

Until one day, he'd had enough.

They were at teatime, and as usual, Sirius was being berated for being a disappointment. But beratement was turning to yelling and anger, and wands were being drawn. And usually, at this point, Regulus would have excused himself. But he thought of who he wanted to be. Both for Sirius, and for another boy, far away, sharing a much more pleasant meal with his own family.

"...a plague on this family!" Orion was screaming, want pointed at Sirius's heart as the sixteen-year-old laughed quietly. "We ought to make you feel the pain you've caused us!"

"Go ahead, Father! Won't change who I am! Or do you think you can curse the good out of me?" Sirius retorted snidely, eyes wild.

But as Orion raised his wand and opened his mouth, Regulus blurted out, "I'm dating James Potter!"

And suddenly, things were so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop.

Walburga spoke first, slowly turning to her younger son. "Regulus, don't joke about such things," she said dismissively.

"I'm not joking," he said, his entire body shaking. He caught Sirius's eye, and the other boy sent him a shocked-but-proud expression. He tilted his head up defiantly and said, "Will you curse me too, then, Mother?"

And, an hour later, as he and Sirius showed up at the door of the Potter Manor with a small bag, disowned and parent-less, he'd never felt better about himself.

[hihomeghere]

Dreams | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 1.1k Summary : Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you Warnings/tags : Cursing, fluff, mention of infidelity, just Arthur being a sweet guy <3

He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts, because all they are just dreams. They’re never going to become a reality. Not when they’re constantly on the move, running from place to place. He sees the way it affects Jack, poor kid, not knowing what the hell is going on. And his daddy doesn’t exactly help him understand. 

He can’t even say he would be a better father, he wasn’t before. 

Hell you two ain’t even married yet, and he’s not that much of a fool. Not anymore. His regret for not marrying Eliza weighs heavily on him most days, even if he didn’t love her in that way. Now you on the other hand, he loves you more than anything. More than this stupid gang, more than life itself. He would happily lay down his life if he knew you would be happy, safe. 

When these thoughts enter his head, he can’t say. His days sort of blend together, making it hard to pinpoint. Although seeing you interact with Jack doesn’t help. 

You are so sweet, so motherly, hell you even mother the younger folks in the gang. Soft touches, kind words, but internally strong. You have all the qualities he finds attractive in a woman. Somehow you fell for him just as hard as he fell for you. 

But he ain’t a fool, he knows this ain’t the right time or place. So instead he writes down all these dreams in his journal, his safe place. The place where he can say anything without being judged. He dreams of little girls, he didn’t know how to interact with Isaac. Too afraid of being his own father. Girls seem less daunting, and a little you would be perfect. He already has one angel, what’s one more?

He comes up with the name while north of Brandywine Drop. The bright purple flowers caught his eye just off the trail.

Violet.

Violet Beatrice Morgan.

His heart sings, scribbling the name down in the margins of his journal. He finds himself writing VM in his journal, smiling foolishly to himself. It’s beautiful, his precious flower. 

It’s not like you meant to snoop. You were looking for Arthur, since he was nowhere to be found. You entered his tent, which in reality wasn’t much of a tent at all, finding his journal open. You walked over to it, looking over the worn page. There were the normal doodles he drew, along with his flowing hand writing. But one thing stood out to you, a pair of initials circled by hearts. VM.

You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t think of anyone you knew with the initials VM. Those definitely weren’t your initials either. 

With your curiosity peaked you flipped through a couple more pages. VM was written everywhere, along with those damn little hearts. 

You felt that little green monster grow inside you the further you looked into his journal. Biting your cheek so hard you could taste blood. It did nothing to quench the fire inside of you. 

“Darlin?” Arthur called walking into the so-called tent. You dropped the journal back onto the table, turning to face him. “There you are.” He grinned walking towards you.

“Here I am.” You said forcing a smile.

“Hosea said you were looking for me.” He said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Anything you need?”

“Must have forgot.” You said with a noncommittal shrug, “I ought to get back to work.” You nod walking past him. Arthur furrowed his brow at your attitude. Did he say something to offend you?

Then his eyes fall onto his open journal. His stomach drops at the sight. Jesus, you saw. You saw all of it. You were probably thinking the worst, seeing the initial surrounded by hearts. How was he gonna fix this?

You stomped off to the edge of camp, trying to wrack your brain as to who this VM could be. And why was Arthur drawing hearts beside the initials? Maybe you had this all wrong, Arthur would never do anything to hurt you. He was a good man, a man you could trust. Wasn't he?

“Y/n!” He called trailing behind you, a crestfallen expression on his face. You stopped at the tree lining, biting your lip as you turned to face him. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I-“ He sighed looking down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a low curse. 

“Who is she?” You asked clenching your jaw. He furrowed his brows looking up at you.

“What?” He asked, his hands settling on his hips.

“VM, the girl you keep drawing hearts around. Who is she?” You were blunt, something he loved so much. Always telling it like it is, never leaving him to guess your feelings. A small smile spread on his face, which only made you more mad. “Seriously, you think this is funny?” You hissed, taking a step towards him. Arthur only had one choice, to tell you the truth. 

“Violet.” He said softly, reaching for you. “Violet Morgan.” You let him wrap his hand around your forearm, pulling you close to his chest.

“Who is Violet Morgan?” You asked, swallowing thickly. He sighed, looking off to the side, wetting his lips.

“She’s uh-“ He shook his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “She’s not exactly real, not yet at least.” He said. 

You shook your head, brows knitted together, “Not real? The hell you mean, not real?”

“I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck looking down, “It’s uh- shit.”

“Spit it out Morgan.” You huff throwing your arms up. 

“I thought of a name,” He explained, “A name for a girl if we- if we have one some day.” He said with a shrug, his cheeks flushed, almost as though he had been in a scuffle. 

Oh.

If we have one some day. 

“Oh Arthur.” You said softly, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling suddenly very foolish for doubting your man. “That's so sweet.” You took a step forward, tilting his face up to look at you. 

“Yeah?” He asked, looping his fingers in his gun belt. 

“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding. “Jesus you had me scared you were gonna tell me you found someone else.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Never. There ain’t no one else in this goddamn world that could replace you.” He said his hand reached up to cup your face. “You’re uh- you’re it for me darlin.” His bright blue eyes peered into yours, love and affection pouring out in his expression. 

“When we have our girl.” You said brushing away a stray strand of honey brown hair, “Violet will be a perfect name.” He grinned, wrapping a hand around your waist.

“Guess it’s settled then.” He said as he leaned down to press his lips against yours.

[ikinremu]

I don’t know if your still doing story rqs or not but I would love a possessive!tommy shelby x innocent!reader.

idea: thomas saw a guy flirting with reader but was to innocent to know it, or notice it—reader does know about sex and other shit, just didn’t really understand it.

Hi anon! Tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy! Also, just to let everyone know that if you have requested, I will be working on it I’m just working through a lot of requests atm so bear with me!! <3

My Property

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: Innocence, Virgin!reader, Fingering, Unprotected sex, P in V, Multiple orgasms, Praise, Possessive/jealousy, Praise, Cream Pie

"What can I getcha, miss?" Came the low, hoarse voice of the bartender, burnt cigarette faltering in his mouth.

"An Old Fashioned, please." You smiled politely, shuffling a little atop the rickety old stood, resting your hands upon the bar's scuffed surface.

The man returned the smile, accompanied by a nod of understanding. His gaze seemed to linger on your face for a moment, fingers swiping the cigarette from between his lips. His eyes never once faltered from your own as his mouth puffed out a cloud of foggy smoke, and he stubbed it out on a nearby ashtray accordingly.

"Rough day?" He inquired, the broad span of his back facing you as he reached over the bar's vast array of contents, seizing whichever components he needed.

"Not particularly, no." You smiled.

"Just figured somethin' had to bring a beautiful woman like you 'ere." He spun to face you once more, laying all intent to the way he studied your expression. He leant forward quite the distance, pouring out your requested drink, gaze never leaving yours.

His words caught you rather off guard, making you stumble over your own slightly, "Oh- um, just fancied a drink, I suppose."

At that, he slid the glass into your open hands, "Here you are."

"Thank you." You gave a honey-like smile, raising the glass to your lips.

As you did so, the man turned once more, slotting the previously retrieved bottles back into their correct places. Glass clinked together, and one particularly large bottle slipped from the shelf, just barely saved from smashing by his splayed hands.

He let out an exhale of relief as he seized the bottle, assuring it remained firmly in place this time.

"That's not like me." He chuckled to himself, pivoting back round in your direction, "I'm usually good with my hands."

He followed the sentence with an obnoxiously bold wink, which you unknowingly ignored, allowing it to fly right by.

There was a moment of drawn out silence as you nodded politely in response, "Well I'd hope so in a job like this."

His brows creased ever so slightly, and he cleared his throat once more.

"Guess I must've been.. distracted." He accentuated the very last word, wetting his lips. You felt his eyes roam over your entirety, lingering over your chest specifically.

With a small nod, you indulged in another sip from your drink, brows furrowed slightly. You could feel his gaze trained upon your mouth as your lips met the top of the glass.

It only then became apparent that you ought to return to your table - you'd become entirely too caught up with polite conversation.

"I best get back." You smiled, hand cupping your beverage as you shuffled atop your barstool. 

His disappointment was blatant, "Leavin' so soon?"

Your gaze spun back to the table you'd been at until only recently. John and Arthur were cackling about God knows what, and Tommy sat beside, smirking, although it appeared he was a little more focused on yourself than the accompaniment of his chortling brothers.

"Ah, I see." He observed, voice a low rumble as your swivelled back toward him, "They seem like they're coping." He chuckled, "Maybe I can convince you to ditch them for the night, hm?"

"No need for that." Tommy's voice cut through like a blade from behind you, making you jump out of your skin for a brief moment. He stepped close beside you, the scrutiny of his stare channelled upon nothing but the bartender.

An obvious, frustrated exhale escaped the man, "I think the lady can make up her own mind, don't you?"

From the very corner of your eye, you observed the tight tick of his jaw.

"Listen, darlin, if you want a good time you know where to find me."  He bargained on.

Irritation painted Tommy's face - although you couldn't quite resolve the puzzle as to why he was so agitated by the man offering you company; he seemed nice enough.

He was practically glaring at the bartender by now, his eyes struggling to leave as he nodded in the loose direction away from the counter, signalling the pair of you should make your way back.

As you hopped off the rickety, wooden stool, your eyes travelled back and forth between the two men, "Uh, thank you for the company." You offered a sweet - more so polite - smile, followed shortly by yourself and Tommy heading back.

"I think we should leave." He spoke, monotone as ever, "Arthur and John will be fine."

It was as though he knew you'd ask of them.

It wasn't particularly late, however you didn't fancy bargaining and in all honesty, you had no problem with leaving early.

Tommy's hand planted suddenly upon the small of your back, guiding the pair of you to exit out into the cool evening air.

A chill whisked over your face as you walked, "I don't understand why you're so upset."

"I'm not upset." He exhaled as the both of you ambled into the familiar, locked door of the betting office.

"Well, judging by the way you're jamming that poor key into the lock, I'd say otherwise." You mumbled, stood uncomfortably beside him, watching as he forced the key over until the lock finally clicked, turning it and shoving the door open, "You looked like you wanted to throttle that bartender."

He let out a scoff,  raising a brow a little as he turned to face you specifically, shutting the door the very moment you strode inside.

"I thought he seemed nice.." You uttered, accompanied by a genuine sense of confusion, "Friendly."

Tommy's eyes flickered across your face, from feature to feature; practically drinking you in, "You weren't gonna entertain the bastard, were you?"

You simply furrowed a brow, "What do you mean?"

He wet his lips, another blatant sigh escaping him, "Clearly thinks he was in with a chance, I don't want you doin' something you'll come to regret, eh?"

Somehow, his words were rather sudden to your ears, and it was a secret to no one that you were confused.

"He was gonna use you to get off, we both know you deserve more than that, don't you?" He leaned in a little as the words floated from his lips, the heat of his breath caressing your skin.

Your breath caught in your throat, hitching at the utter proximity of it all, and his hand found your waist suddenly. You were stunned, losing a single, soft gasp upon the feeling of the possessive squeeze he offered.

"Tell me you want this." His mouth mumbled, a mere inch from your ear.

An ambush of butterflies fluttered through your stomach, and you just couldn't deny his words, "..I want this."

"That's right, my fuckin' girl." Tommy grumbled, snaking a callous hand beneath your skirt, sliding slowly up your thigh, "Mine to touch, eh?"

A shiver coursed down your spine; intoxicated by the way he looked at you with such possession. Greedily, his fingers splayed over your thigh, inching nearer and nearer to the place you were most sensitive.

Your teeth sunk into the pillow of your bottom lip as one single, gentle finger brushed over your silken underwear.

"Acting so innocent, but you're fucking soaked." Tommy chuckled, beginning to trace subtle circles around your clit through the material, "Needy, eh?"

The way his fingers moved felt unbelievable, like nothing you'd ever experienced before. It was entirely new, and you didn't want it to end.

As though reacting to the unfamiliar sensations, your back hollowed an arch from the door, drenched cunt pressing against the motions of his hand, drawing a chuckle from his lips.

"Feels good, hm?" He taunted, lips curving into a prideful smirk as his digits crept beneath your underwear, hooking the silk hand and tugging it aside quickly.

A loud, breathy sound left your mouth as his fingertips came in contact with your bare, sensitive pussy.

"You want more, love?" He raised a brow, aware and deliberate of the question he knew the answer to, the strain of his own arousal increasing as he watched the way your face twisted in pleasure.

You nodded, "Mhm."

Tommy trailed his touch down your soaked cunt, pulling yet another gasp from your lips as he slipped one finger between your folds. You cursed under your breath, unable to resist as he slid a single, skilful finger inside you.

He watched your eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed and pouring heavy breaths. Your cunt twitched around him as he so slowly slipped another finger beside the first.

"That's it, fucking feel it, eh?" He whispered, voice low and raspy.

Easing in, Tommy began to move his grouped digits inside you, reaching a spot so sensitive it was made simply impossible to restrain your whine.

"Oh fuck.."

"Look at that sweet little cunt squeezing my fingers.." He breathed, "Mine."

Your arousal further soaked his hand as his fingers thrust at a tortuous pace, finally beginning to quicken, gaze focused solely on yours; the way in which you reacted.

The warm, though rough, pad of his thumb pressed itself to the swell of your clit, toying with the pressure as his digits moved faster, curling and pumping in and out in a way that had your chest heaving.

"Please.." You murmured. You weren't at all accustomed to this new feeling, rather like a knot building in your stomach.

"I know, love," Tommy encouraged, "You like the way my fingers fuck that tight little cunt, hm?" He smiled, only further fuelled by the sight of you losing composure at his touch, "Come for me."

His words snapped the tightly-wound knot in your stomach, and a wave of intense pleasure stormed  your entirety - no trace of mercy.

Tommy's hand didn't halt, maintaining his pace as you came undone, guiding you through the release.

Your thighs trembled desperately around him, the feeling dying down, an air of euphoria about you.

Slipping his fingers from the heat of your pussy, he pressed his forehead against your own, eyes flickering and locking onto yours. Finally, his mouth connected with yours, lips soft and warm - enticing your body to the feel of his as he deepened the kiss. His hands gripped at your waist, stumbling back without shattering the embrace, the pair of you shuffling into the centre of the betting office.

The kiss grew hungrier by the second, his tongue gliding between your lips, he assisted you in perching atop his - usefully - wellkept desk. His hand snaked a path between your weakened thighs, parting them.

As you moved your mouth desperately against his, you felt the movements of his dark, certainly costly trousers being unclasped, followed immediately by the sound of fabric crumpling. He tore back from the kiss, breathing ever so heavily as he wrapped his fist tightly around his cock, throbbing against his palm.

"Going to let me ruin that sweet fucking cunt, aren't you?" He grumbled, to which you gave a delicate nod.  "Ready?"

The subject of your gaze switched, roaming downward to the sight. Tommy's large, veiny hand grasping his erection. To say you couldn't quite process it would be a vast understatement.

"Yes." You nodded, fingertips digging firmly into the desk as he stood before you. He lined up the thick, pulsing head of his cock with your sopping entrance, one hand planted loosely to the small of your back.

With a low, hoarse sounding groan, he slid inside the warmth of your cunt. At a volume you hadn't yet reached, you gasped, adjusting to the feel of him inside you, a sharp moan rolling off your tongue.

"Fucking hell," He exhaled, "You feel incredible."

His cock twitched within you, your hands instinctively flying to the broad of his back for support. Tommy pulled his hips back, then forward, thrusting so very slowly into you as floods of soft whimpers fled your throat.

"You're mine, eh?" He groaned, controlling his hips at a divine pace, "And I take care of what belongs to me."

Clutching helplessly onto his waist-coat clad shoulders, your breaths grew shallower and far more frantic as he picked up the pace. The desk wavered beneath your bodies, suffering from the impact of the pair of you working with one and other.

"My property." He whispered, bare hips bucking hungrily against yours, as though a craving overcame him. "No one touches my property."

A shiver shot down your spine, pussy squeezing greedily at his length, his cock reaching perfectly deep.

"Fuck.." You practically heaved out, unable to prevent your whimpers as his tip struck repeatedly against your g-spot.

"That's it." Tommy praised, bright eyes rolling back for the span of one brief moment as he slammed his hips against yours, "You take my cock so well.."

Your cunt soaked his cock further as it stroked back and forth at a fulfilling pace, room swarmed with the sound of skin colliding and frantic breathing.

The thick, pulsing head of his cock struck repeatedly against your g-spot as his pace fell sloppier, clearly losing composure as you squeezed him.

"Fuck.." He grumbled, "So good."

Fingertips digging into his lower back, you felt Tommy tremor beneath your touch, his hips bucking with far less control. Once more, his fingers crept toward the heat of your pussy, pressing the perfect level of pressure to your clit.

A newly familiar sensation began to build in your stomach, bringing your teeth to bite down on your lower lip; overwhelmed by the combined feelings of Tommy’s thrusts working with his fingers to bring you closer to a second release.

“Shit,” He groaned, “Gonna fill up that sweet fuckin’ cunt, hm?”

“So good.. Please..” You practically babbled out, mouth falling open with a breathy moan.

Abruptly, the very same tidal wave of pleasure washed over your body, although far more intense this time. Your soaked, overstimulated cunt twitched around his deep, pulsing cock.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, jolting his hips at a divine pace as he fucked you through the release, feeling your nails push down against his waist-coat.

Eyelids fluttering over his eyes, Tommy slipped a raspy, broken groan. A spurt of warmth filled you suddenly, pooling within your drenched pussy as he breathed heavily. The pair of you struggled to catch your breath.

He stroked one warm, callous palm over your cheek ever so softly, though contrasted with possession, “Mine to ruin, eh?”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! As I said, I’m working through a lot of requests so thank you for your patience if you’ve sent one in <3

[shadowtriovibes]

it's a sign of the times

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."

the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.

You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.

Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.

You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.

You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).

It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.

“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”

“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.

“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.

You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”

“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”

“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.

“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”

You scoff. Unbelievable.

“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.

You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.

“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.

Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.

“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”

“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.

“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”

“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.

Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.

Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.

“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”

“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”

You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.

One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910

We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.

Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.

Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.

Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.

“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.

“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”

Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.

“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”

“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

“What is it?” you breathe.

“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”

The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.

“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”

“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.

Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”

“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”

Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.

“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”

“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”

“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”

But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.

That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.

Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.

“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”

“Who?” Ominis asks.

“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”

“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”

You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.

Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

At once, the three of you freeze.

“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”

“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”

Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.

Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.

Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.

“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”

“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.

“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.

“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”

“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”

You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.

“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”

“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”

“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.

“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”

You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.

“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.

“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”

Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”

“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”

Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”

“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”

Well, that certainly clears things up.

Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.

You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.

“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”

You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.

“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”

“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”

“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”

“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”

“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”

Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.

“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”

Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”

“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.

“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”

“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”

“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”

You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”

“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.

“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”

“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”

“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”

Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”

You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.

The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.

You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.

“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.

“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”

You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”

He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”

“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”

He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.

Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.

“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”

“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”

You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”

You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”

Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.

“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”

---

[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]

[wegc]

omg thots on 3some w 3racha in the studio….???🫣 w the door unlocked..???? eek!!!

first thought is that a 3some with 3racha is genuinely a fucking dream because HELLO!!! two super fucking buff men fucking the shit out of you and one insatiable, greedy, pussy drunk brat sloppily kissing you all over? give it to me NOW!

i can just envision being caught by changbin and jisung when you and chan are making out on the studio couch, you perched securely on his lap with two firm hands groping your ass. chan usually locks the door, but this time he was careless, and perhaps he wanted changbin and jisung to witness how he gets to have you, all desperate and out of breath after he catches them staring at you far too many times.

when poor jisung opens the door, he can’t help the flush of his face and the overwhelming sensation of his cock stirring in his sweatpants because you look so fuckable, and your ass looks so soft, and god—would you grind your cunt like that above him?

changbin wants to reprimand chan; as their hyung, he should’ve been more cautious, more responsible—they produce music here every day and now the pair of you are moments from fucking each other right on the studio couch? but he doesn't say anything. how can he when his throat becomes drier than it has ever become? how can he say anything when he’s dreamt of you in this situation for so long? and when chan finally looks over and shyly laughs before beckoning him to take you next, how can he say no when he’s fisted his cock to this very scenario?

changbin would be rough and fast, pounding you from behind, slapping your ass, and yanking your hair, almost punishing you for being such a whore—for being so keen to endure three cocks one after the other. he prays to whatever deity out there that he earns the chance of doing this again because he needs to fuck your ass; that ought to teach you a lesson! if you wanna get fucked so bad, take all three of them at once!

“god—you’re fucking insatiable, aren’t you? you’d bend over for some dick anywhere, huh?”

and chan, who landed the two of you in this predicament in the first place, calls you his greedy little thing. he’d be temperate compared to the other two, cooing and laughing breathlessly in your face, peppering you with lingering, sloppy kisses and urging you to jerk hannie off as he takes care of you.

“you like that, pretty? yeah, i know baby—you gonna cry? feels that good? can’t go a day without being filled up, hm? i’ll give it to you.”

and jisung, dirty little jisung who wants it messy—who yearns to spit in your mouth and have you choke and gag on his sore, thick cock as you’re getting fucked. jisung, who smears your mascara down your flushed cheeks and ensures you leave stains of your lipstick on his dick—he needs you to be a fucking mess.

“always so proper around everyone else—stupid slut for us though, yeah? tell me you like being used like this—nothing but a hole for us, yeah?"

or, perhaps one day, you'll make a mess out of him too. jisung wants nothing more than for you to spit in his face and slap him around. leave bruised, splotchy marks on his chest! call him your stupid fucking slut! bully him for being so desperate to eat you out! tug on his hair every time he becomes all fuzzy when he's eating you out! his eye will roll back, i promise.

either way, when they're not playing with you in the meanwhile, chan and changbin will be fisting their aching, overstimulated cocks, engraving this memory in their minds eternally to preserve it for masturbation fuel later!!!

[rainydayathogwarts]

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone - Sirius Black

"Hey I ought to leave the young thing alone, but ain't no sunshine when she's gone."

warnings: smut, age gap 1.2k wc

Sirius hadn't been the one to make the first move. That was his excuse for all the disapproving glances Remus shot his way. Young, and high enough of authority to encourage Fred and George's antics in a way that was discouraged by the other adults in the house, everyone saw you as a trouble maker seductress who would only cause turmoil in Sirius's life. But despite this, Sirius was a goner the instant you sent him a flirtatious smile, cornering him in the kitchen of his own house.

Being one of the youngest high ranking aurors at the ministry of magic, your name had quickly been brought up in a meeting at the order of the phoenix, the team desperately needing an inside link. Chasing you down wasn't difficult, and nor was recruiting you. You'd shared all the beliefs order members had, and were attending meetings from the very start, providing the others with information that was impressive for an agent in her early 20's.

The first time you'd spoken to Sirius alone, you were inevitably nervous, accidentally hitting your hip against the corner of the table as you went to put your mug in the sink. He had amusedly asked if you were okay, a hand coming up to rest on the small of your back. That made you panic even more, eyes scanning the close proximity between you, and you nodded, scratching the nape of your neck shyly. "I'm Sirius, by the way." You'd shaken the hand he offered, introducing yourself to the man. And apparently, after that interaction you hadn't found him nearly as scary, waiting for meetings to be over so you could speak to the older man, catching up with him about life.

You realised after a while that you always had so much more to say about your day, having come straight to the manor from work, still wearing your heels and uncomfortably tight blouse that always had the top button open, but made you look absolutely incredible. Meanwhile, Sirius will have been at the manor all day, only interacting with people who came in and out of the house, otherwise spending his days alone. He knew he should have turned down your offer. The chance of him getting caught was just too high, but you insisted. "It's not a far walk from here, and your animagus form can disguise you perfectly."

It was the first breath of fresh air Sirius had gotten since he escaped, and he felt himself look at you in admiration the whole way to your apartment. He wondered how you walked in those heels. Marvelled at how you weren't cold in those thin tights and skirt that was just a tad bit too short to wear to work but long enough for you to get away with. When you finally turned the key into the entrance door of your building, letting Sirius into the apartment complex, he was able to see the mischievous smile on your face. He didn't what what overtook him, but he was aimlessly following you up to your apartment, and accepting the glass of wine you offered him.

"To your first adventure as a free man, Sirius Black." His gaze stuck to you, staring as you took a sip from your glass. Time slowed as a drop of wine slipped between your lips and the glass, landing on your crisp white blouse. His jaw went slack when you gasped, fingers immediately flying to unbutton your blouse, revealing your chest to him for a quick second before you were rushing to your kitchen sink and ridding your top from its red stain. Sirius downed his glass of wine before putting it down, taking three long strides to stand by you at the sink. You sighed, spinning around to face him, a wild glint in your eyes when you saw him struggle to keep his eyes levelled with yours. You pulled him closer to you by his sweater, letting him stumble closer to you. Leaning forward, your lips found his in a kiss, which was quickly sped up by Sirius, hands finding your hips to press your body against his. His beard scratched your chin lightly as he deepened the kiss, tongue battling with yours over dominance which he effortlessly won over.

Almost fourteen years without kissing someone does something to a man, you thought, when he had you pressed tightly against your mattress, thrusting into you from the back so harshly that you were sure the bed would break. Your moans serenaded him, encouraging him to quicken his pace until he physically couldn't hold himself back anymore. His orgasm hitting him faster than he would have liked, Sirius laid back on the bed next to you, apologising profusely. "It's been so long." He cried, accepting the kisses you pressed onto his jaw, an arm wrapped around your waist, as though to keep you from leaving him. But with the way you threw a leg over his thighs, pulling your body on top of his, it was clear you weren't done with him yet.

Sirius groped your tits, nipples grazing his chest while you continued to suck hickeys onto his neck, one hand stroking his cock for him to get hard again. When you felt him hardening, you were quick to sink down onto him, bouncing on top of him whilst he cursed, eyes glued to your figure. You put your hands on his chest to support you, caressing his tatted skin while he began regaining his senses, a hand coming up to touch your pussy, rubbing circles on your clit. You moaned, thighs beginning to burn as you resorted to grinding down onto Sirius's cock instead of bouncing. "I got you, sweetheart." He mumbled, bucking his hips up to help roll you over, making your cry out at the sudden pain from his harsh thrust.

Sirius began thrusting into you again with a steady pace, one hand playing with your clit as he leaned over you, catching your lips in another kiss. His chains dangled over your chest, jingling with each thrust Sirius pushed into you, panting into the kiss. He switched to press kisses to your neck instead, his pace slowing when you wrapped your legs around his torso, pushing his cock deeper into you. You whined, pushing your chest up into his as you threw your head back, nails dragging down his back in pleasure. "Please" You muttered, making Sirius press harder against your clit as his thrusts slowed down, not wanting to disappoint you again. He felt your cunt clamp down around his cock as you came, moaning loudly.

Sirius's thrusts slowed, and he pulled out of you, not wanting to overstimulate you. "Shit!" He cried when your hand chased his cock, wrapping around it to jerk him off, making him cum for the second time that night. He slumped against the bed, inhaling your scent mixed with the smell of sex, and shut his eyes for the night. Next time, you're not even going to have to invite him over before he'll be pouncing on you, fingers crossing to not get caught bending you over in the living room at Grimmauld pace.

[fandomlit]

the right to jealousy (draco malfoy x reader)

requested by anon "Hiii if it's not too late I saw you were looking for Harry potter requests!! If you write for Draco please do prompts 1, 31, 36, and 20 where he's jealous but doesn't want to admit it to reader and then just kisses her? If you don't write for Draco just ignore.. thank if you do!"

warning swearing, aggressive verbal argument

o hey i do writing prompts,, those used in this imagine will be in bold

gif cred belongs to @draco-fuckingmalfoy

"where have you been?"

you jumped, not expecting to hear a voice so late at night when entering the slytherin common room. placing a hand on your heart, you looked around with an annoyed expression to see draco malfoy sitting in one of the chairs, not even looking at you.

"why do you care?" you sighed, not forgetting how he had brushed you off earlier that day when you tried to talk to him in potions. draco had been rather crass with you lately; ignoring you in lessons, seemingly fuming every time he caught your eye, and making sneering comments at you when you managed to get him to say something. you were getting fed up with it; a week of sass from the guy you were crushing on had you grumpy in every lesson.

he finally looked up at you from the paper he'd been reading, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "i am a prefect, you know."

you rolled your eyes. "how could i ever forget.." you started to make your way to the girls dormitories when you heard his footsteps approaching behind you.

"i asked where you've been."

you turned around to find him much closer than you'd expected, his jaw clenched and his expression positively livid. if you weren't so mad and confused with him, you would've found his anger achingly attractive. "what do you care, draco? you seem to take no interest in where i am any other hour of the day!"

"i don't care!" he spoke defiantly, but his own fury betrayed him. "i couldn't care less if you were out there with potter or whoever the hell in the middle of the night. but as your prefect, i ought to know!"

you blinked in surprise at the accusation of you being with someone. "what does it matter if i was with someone not, draco? do you just think of me as some common lass who sneaks out to get her-" the realization dawned on you mid sentence, and you watched carefully as draco's jaw clenched, as if he were biting back another shout amidst your working mind. "are you jealous?"

"oh come on, i see the way you've been looking at him," draco accused, dodging your question. "looking at him like everyone else does--like potter owns the castle and everyone in it. like he's some hero to our ranks. and i've seen the way he's been looking at you, too." before you could ask what the could possibly mean, he crossed his arms again and spat, "so was it him that was worth sneaking out for?"

you scoffed at him, shaking your head. "you're mad! you're deluding yourself into thinking i was out with someone because you're looking for something to be upset about!"

"i've said it once and i'll say it again: i don't care."

"everything about you right now screams otherwise," you scoffed again.

"just tell me who you were with and this is all over!" he spat, opening his arms in a frustrated manner. "i am a prefect, y/n, you have to tell me."

"get a new excuse!" you demanded. he just glared at you and you glared right back into his darkened grey eyes. you let your words ring for a moment before you asked again with less ferocity, "draco, are you jealous?"

"you're slow today," he spoke quickly and ferociously, taking your face in his hands and practically crushing your lips to his. despite the quickness and pent up aggression in the kiss, it was desperately satisfying to let go of the argument to throw your arms around his shoulders, letting days worth of tension melt into his mouth.

after a few quick, hot moments, the kisses turned slower and longer as the anger that began the exchange simmered, and all that was left was the passion that underlined everything between the two of you. when you both pulled apart, draco surged forward one last time for a long, hard kiss before he finally opened his eyes. you were slower to open yours as he dragged his hands your arms to slip to your waist, his face still only a mere inch from yours.

"better than whoever you were with?" he asked lowly, giving you a cocky half-smirk despite his hot breaths still hitting your lips.

you rolled your eyes but your former anger didn't resurface. "considering i was just at a private astronomy lesson with professor sinistra, definitely." the admission made him close his eyes for a moment. "yeah, feel a little stupid now?"

"no," he was quick to answer, grey gaze immediately locking with yours again. "now that you're mine.." you raised your eyebrows at him but didn't interrupt, "i have the right to feel whatever the hell kind of jealousy i want."

"so you admit it, then?"

[heich0e]

"i won't be able to see you for a while."

the tokyo streets slip past outside your window, but your eyes aren't quite following the scenery. you feel a little dizzy thanks to the wine satoru kept pouring over dinner—filling only your glass, as usual. it was a vintage you could never have dreamed you'd get the chance to taste only a few short months ago; a luxury so distant that you'd never once even thought about what it might be like to try. now it lingers on your tongue, stains your lips slightly, feels familiar in ways you still struggle to reckon with.

you tilt your face towards the man sitting beside you in the back of the car that's taking you home.

"a while?" you ask him curiously, though that's perhaps not the most important query.

satoru hums, smiling a little to himself as his fingers press against the pulse point on your wrist. he's been toying with your hand ever since you left the restaurant, but you've hardly paid it any notice.

satoru's touch used to be limited to the spectacle. his hands only reaching out for you when someone was there to witness it. at one time, satoru would have changed cars before his driver took you home. at one time, he would have dropped your hand the moment the door shut behind you. but he doesn't now.

you've grown strangely used to this, too.

"are you going away for work again?" you ask him when he offers no further elaboration. it's not that you're particularly concerned with where he's going, or why, or for how long. satoru's life always has been, and always will be, solely his own. you're no more his keeper than you are his true fiancée—and the funds that will be deposited into your bank account by the time you make it home this evening are testament to that truth.

but you ask because it feels like the natural thing to do.

though very little about anything you do with satoru ought to be considered natural.

"no," the blonde answers, with that troublesome lilt of mirth in his voice that always seems to precede something unpleasant. you don't ask any more questions in an attempt to ward it off.

soon you reach your destination, the rest of the car ride spent in silence after your brief but relatively benign exchange earlier in the drive. you glance out through the window towards your apartment—a building so utterly unremarkable that the sumptuous interior of the restaurant you visited that evening feels palatial by comparison.

satoru's not allowed to walk you to your door anymore. his harsh, obnoxiously unfiltered criticism of your building—of your home—each time he so much as caught a glimpse of the interior had grown so grating, you'd barred him from entering any further than the entrance to the lobby.

instead, his assistant nanami is the one who silently escorts you to your unit door each night, at satoru's unyielding insistence. he'd been surprisingly terse about it when you'd initially attempted to dissuade him, reminding him (more than once) that you make the walk to your own door every day alone and have thus far lived to tell the tale. but the options he firmly presented in reply—the only two you knew you had to choose from—were either to be escorted by nanami, or let him walk you there himself. you knew that there would be no reasoning with him otherwise, sensed it in the way he held you so fixedly in his stare that day, so you chose nanami.

now each night after satoru accompanies you on the ride home after your engagements, his stoic, well-mannered assistant dips in a polite bow at your door and wishes you goodnight before departing once he knows you've made it safely inside.

behind the wheel up front, nanami slips out from his seat, exiting the vehicle and coming around to your door to open it and let you out. the door cracks open as he pulls the handle, but all of the sudden it comes clacking closed again.

satoru is leaning over you—his weight, his warmth, the sheer breadth of him a little staggering from this close up, especially so unexpectedly—holding the door firmly shut by the handle. he stares at you down the bridge of his nose, unblinking.

"i'll see you... when i see you," you breathe out, surprisingly meek, as you sit frozen in your seat beneath him.

satoru says nothing, just watches you curiously. there's a glimmer of something that swims behind his eyes—that look he gets where you can't help but be reminded of a child playing with a new toy—that makes you shift nervously.

"you really don't want to know?" he asks you, and he's so close you can almost taste the words on his lips.

this is too near, even by his peculiar standards. satoru's hand is still wrapped tightly around the door handle to keep it closed. his body pinning you into the corner of the backseat.

you can't help but feel on edge when you're trapped like this with nowhere else to go.

"know what?" you ask him. your head is still spinning from the wine, but it's almost worse now. maybe it's only just really beginning to hit your bloodstream.

"where i'm going," satoru goads, "how long i'll be gone."

you swallow thickly. "that's none of my business."

"of course it is," satoru replies, feigning hurt. "we're engaged. it's a fiancés right to know where their partner is and what they're doing, any time they'd like."

your brow pinches in confusion. you have no interest in knowing those kinds of things, much less feel any right to know them, given the circumstances. your bewilderment leaves you at a loss for words.

"my rut's coming, you see," satoru explains, his lashes fluttering softly as he says it. it wouldn't feel so strange if his lip weren't curling up in a smirk all the while. "so for the next week or so i'll be... indisposed."

your mouth feels dry.

"oh," you manage to say, though it's not really anything at all.

one of satoru's brows quirks curiously at the sound.

"it wouldn't normally be an issue," he continues, though you didn't ask him to. "but this will be my first rut i've spent alone since i presented, so i'm not sure how long it will last."

your lips part in shock.

"alone?" you sound every bit as astonished—as scandalized—as you feel. an alpha of satoru's rank spending his rut alone is unheard of. "what about the omega servic—"

"i would never pay for those kinds of services."

satoru's tone is uncharacteristically cold as he dismisses the mere notion of it. even as a beta, you know that omega services are perfectly legal, and are strictly regulated nowadays—but upon further reflection, you're not all that surprised by his seeming revulsion towards the idea. a family as powerful as the gojo clan likely has their own reserve of omegas, each one of the highest pedigree, to attend to the needs of their unmated alphas. hell, the most eligible omegas in the country would willingly accompany him if he were to ask. you avert your gaze under his cold stare, you feel a bit silly for even suggesting—

"i have no interest bringing any omega into my bed."

your eyes snap up to meet his.

that little glimmer is still there, behind the impossibly clear blue of his eyes.

"will you take suppressants?" you find yourself asking next. still meek.

satoru's face screws up in disgust.

"that garbage is toxic," he sniffs indignantly. "snake oil like that wouldn't work on me anyway."

you remember learning about this in health class as a teen. remember how shocked you were to learn that the efficacy of suppressants decreases depending on how strongly someone's secondary gender characteristics present. it's always felt a bit backwards to you—shouldn't the strongest, least-controllable members of the population be the ones there's the most interest in subduing?

and an alpha as high ranking, as dominant, as satoru is every bit the example.

"no," he sighs, and suddenly any trace of irritation or sterness dissipates as though he's released it along with his breath. his weary tone is too thickly affected to be sincere. "i'll just have to suffer through it on my own."

from the corner of your eye, you can see nanami shift where he stands and waits outside the door, and all at once you remember where you are.

you turn your body away from satoru, angling yourself (as much as you're able) towards your exit.

"well, good luck," you attempt to sound encouraging, but the words still come out slightly ill-at-ease. you reach for the door handle, hoping satoru will get the message and release it so you can take your leave. "let me know if you need anything."

satoru's hand doesn't move.

"do you really mean that?"

you flinch a little as his lips brush the shell of your ear. he's pressed up against your back now—the planes of his chest firm against your shoulder blades as he drapes himself over you.

you're frozen again, your hand still outstretched towards his at the handle—poised in midair. the lights from outside the car glint tauntingly in the diamond on your ring finger.

his breath is hot as it breaks against your throat.

your chest feels uncomfortably tight.

"would you really help me if i were to ask?"

[worriedvision]

You finally leave a toxic workplace - multiple characters

Gender neutral reader, going to do this with Wriothesley and Kinich. More of a comfort fic for myself than anything tbh lol! The jobs are more genshin related than irl tbh lmao!

-

Wriothesley:

You finally had enough of the mind-games you'd be subject to by your peers in the dress shop you worked in. Whenever you were trying to work yourself, nobody would trust you with their materials they'd bring for special commissions - your boyfriend being Wriothesley and all!

Your coworkers weren't much better, but they were different. They got worse after seeing your boyfriend come along with a packed lunch for you, which led to jealousy. How did you get such a hunk of a boyfriend that was also a doting lover? They weren't happy your romantic life was going well, but they'd put emphasis on you not being doting back - a statement they wouldn't know to be fake.

When more customers came in and everyone had to stay back, they'd hand it to you to cover for them all. Chiori, someone who ran a rival shop, walked in one day after seeing you clearly not doing well.

"Darling, you do know you don't sell bags right?" Chiori chastises, you tilting your head in confusion before gasping at the mirror Chiori holds up.

"You're worth more than your coworkers - unfortunately, the only one not seeing that is you." Chiori states. "For your sake, I'd leave this job of yours. While I don't have any openings, I'm sure there are other shops you can work in that will respect your time."

"...Thank you, Chiori." You smile weakly, feeling strangely empowered to have someone that wasn't your boyfriend telling you your own worth. "can I ask why you...?"

"Oh, your boyfriend told me he was thinking of threatening your boss with a criminal record. I figured this would get you out of a sticky mess."

"Ah, that makes sense." You chuckle. "... You're right. I'm exhausted after work, and I don't have the energy to indulge in anything. I don't get paid for overtime, and I cover for people with no thanks in return."

"Walk out with me, make a statement." Chiori nods, you agreeing as you leave your badge and apron behind, hearing the gasps from the few customers still waiting.

--

"...You finally left?" Wriothesley smiles, you nodding as you snuggle into his chest and inhale softly. He sighs, massaging the back of your head as he sits back in his chair. "Glad to hear it. You're practically working yourself to death there."

"I didn't even realise how big my eye bags were!" You laugh, Wriothesley tutting before wrapping his arms around you.

"You better enjoy some time away from work. You really ought to look after yourself, my love." Wriothesley chastises, waiting for a response before realising you were now softly snoring on his chest.

---

Kinich:

You worked as a collector of materials for people who weren't familiar with Natlan and its layout. You emphasised focus on quality and less pay, as you were new to that line of work and you had to sell yourself somehow. People knew you'd be the cheaper option, but they'd pressure you to spend excessive time and resources to get their materials collected.

Your boyfriend had given you lectures about this, but at first you thought he didn't know better than what worked for him. You knew from growing up you were to take every job you possibly could, not for your own good but rather for the good of your reputation. If you didn't grow a good reputation, you couldn't work with the decent clients.

Unfortunately, you got the horrible people that everyone else would ignore if they got the commission. They'd track your progress on the commission, keeping a close eye to make sure you weren't just getting the cheap stuff. And god forbid they caught you taking a lunch break in progress of their commission!

You actually got injured one time, and the person who commissioned you jumped out from a nearby bush.

"You aren't doing your job well enough! I specifically commissioned you out of pity, and you can't even collect this one. Simple. Request?" They tut, you trying to get your leg wedged out from between two rocks.

"The request isn't- ow - simple." You growl out.

"It really is! How else would you have accepted it with such a low reward?" The man laughs, still making no move to help you. "I won't be helping you out, it will be deducted from your paycheck otherwise!"

"...Fuck you." You grumble. "My leg is stuck between two rocks, and being the sociopath you are you're talking down to me. You specifically asked for this commissions spot." You keep going, the adrenaline from the accident leaving leading to you getting both a surge of pain and exhaustion.

"Oh, you have some balls talking to me like that. Do you know who I am?" The man laughs, pinching you to keep you awake.

Before he can continue, however, he gets yanked back with a grapple your boyfriend made. The man is shocked, and he goes to open his mouth only to see a very angry Kinich.

"We've had this problem before." He states, eyes cold as they drill into his soul. "I warned you before, but you never listen. I alerted the commissions guild of this in advance knowing something would go wrong. My partner is in agony because of you."

"I-I- can-"

"You were spying on them as well. I'm fairly certain that is also a crime - in addition to you physically abusing them." Kinich coldly continues. "Traveler, please take this man away."

The traveler does so, seemingly entirely clued in, as Kinich goes along to you.

"I'm exhausted. I want to go home." You cry, Kinich nodding before examining your leg. He grabs your leg, advising you this was going to hurt, before lifting your leg up so your ankle was at the gap before getting you free.

"This is a pretty nasty wound, you're incredibly lucky you didn't break anything." Kinich sighs, grabbing his kit to clean the wound.

"I want to sleep, is that okay?" You whimper. "You were right, people are taking advantage of me."

"Of course." Kinich nods. "I'll carry you to the tent after I patch you up. I'll stay by your side." Kinich smiles.

"Yeah, so will I!" Ajaw cackles. "Even I would take better care of you than that guy! The audacity, not even killing you to end your suffering." Ajaw ends, you and Kinich looking over confused.

"... That was surprisingly nice of you." Kinich nods. "I appreciate the sentiment, and I'm sure _ does as well."

[rinachains]

wc: 2.6k

contents: nanami x gn!reader; age gap (they're both adults); kind of a mentor/mentee relationship (but not really); reader has some unresolved issues; (sexual?) tension; seemingly one-sided crush; suggestive; MDNI

a/n: a little something while I'm working on the toji fic. the voices made me write this, I hope y'all will enjoy it. comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! divider credits: @cafekitsune

“Are you hungry?”

A shake of your head, barely noticeable. As expected, Nanami mused. He held down a loud sigh.

The lethargic state in which the mission – the whole day – had left him was wearing him down, and all he wanted to do was lie in his bed and close his eyes. But even then, sleep came hard to him; it hovered above him, a painful tease, but it never dared to give him a sweet release. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt fully rested.

“Is there something else you want?”, Nanami tried again, a swift glance towards you.

You only made a dismissive noise in response. The sound almost got drowned out by the heavy rain outside of Nanami’s car. Every hit of the rain against his windows like a punch, with vigour and frustration behind it. Nanami tried not to let his frustration show.

If there was one thing Nanami didn't lack, it was self-awareness.

He knew that in the eyes of most of his peers, he came across as stern, overly composed and perhaps a bit too serious. More than once did he hear from them that he ought to relax more and be less formal, but despite all that, they still had a certain respect (and some even admiration) for him. He was able to handle majority of his peers, albeit with a headache sometimes.

Yet he - for the life of him - couldn't figure out why you suddenly became a different person when he was near you. He caught a glimpse of how you acted around others – you were relaxed, laughed at some of the jokes that were made and could hold conversations without any problems.

So why did you act so strange around him?

Nanami would even go so far as to say that you seemed irritated by him. Sometimes he’d catch the roll of your eyes when he’d admonish you, or you'd give him a halfhearted nod when he’d share an important piece of information with you, as if you were trying to have as little conversation with him as possible. As if any interaction with him was a pain in the ass. It deepened his frown each time, the ache in his already throbbing head only getting worse.

He was used to a reaction like this towards Gojo, someone who was naturally irritating, but towards him?

Today, you went on a mission together. Initially, you were supposed to go on your own, but the higher ups decided it would be better if Nanami tagged along, in case something happened and you wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Nanami told you that he would stay out of the mission - your mission - and that he would only intervene if he thought it was necessary. Until a certain point, you believed that the mission was going well and that it would end in success for you. A way to prove yourself, to show everyone how capable you were. But then fate decided to show its twisted sense of humor today; just when you thought you had exorcised all the curses, another one suddenly came from behind you, catching you off guard. Too fast for you to react in time.

And the worst thing? Nanami had to come to your rescue, even though you nearly had it.

So now you were sitting in his car, parked in front of the apartment complex you lived in and waited. For what? You didn’t quite know. Nanami told you to wait until the rain stopped, since none of you had an umbrella with you. How considerate of him, right?

He sat next to you in the driver's seat, not a single strand of his perfectly coiffed hair out of place, not even a small stain on his clean, pressed suit.

With each passing minute, the silence between the two of you only grew more tense. Since all available managers were busy with other sorcerers, Nanami offered to use his car. He didn’t expect to do much or any work at all.

Your arms were crossed against your chest as you stared out of the window, chewing on the inside of your cheek and pointedly avoiding looking at the man next to you. You seemed uncomfortable, visibly upset, and that in return made Nanami restless; he tried to remember if he unknowingly offended you earlier. He sometimes tended to be a bit harsh, not feeling and seeing the need to sugarcoat things, but he was not someone who was reluctant to praise. So what did he do to you to make you dislike him?

He cleared his throat, one of his hands loosening his tie. It started to feel awfully tight around his neck.

"If you have a problem, you can tell me. After all, we are both adults here.”

"There's no problem," you muttered, fingers intertwined in your lap. You didn’t sound very convincing and your eyes still refused to meet his.

"Clearly there is," he said matter-of-factly, tired of beating around the bush. He wanted your honesty; he could handle it. After all, he had dealt with worse things in his life. "I may not know you that well, but I can see that something is bothering you."

Another beat of silence and Nanami considered dropping the subject and giving up. If you didn’t want to talk, then he won’t force you.

You felt like pure shit. The truth was, you definitely had a problem. With him. And even though he probably didn't mean to, he brought out the worst in you, all those ugly, desperate feelings that were buried deep inside your body. You hated the way he nagged you or made you feel stupid and fragile. You usually prided yourself on being confident and collected, but he could make you question yourself and your abilities so easily without even trying. You wanted to be independent, not have to lean on him for support; you were a strong sorcerer, for God's sake. So when he had to step in and rescue you like a damsel in distress, it did more than just irritate you. Simply put, your ego couldn't handle it. And it wasn't even his fault, the cause was entirely your own deep-seated insecurities.

He wasn't much older than you, yet he somehow made you feel like a lost child that lacked decades of experience. It annoyed you, but what annoyed you even more was the strong attraction you felt towards him.

Nanami was intimidating yet gentle, someone with good intentions, probably better than any of the other senior sorcerers you worked with.

You longed for his praise, to hear his approval and let it wrap you in a warm embrace. But you were afraid of falling for it, of becoming dependent. An addict. You could never be casual about such things, the intensity was too strong in your heart, a part of you.

The smell of his expensive cologne made your head spin, the urge to nuzzle your face against his neck and breathe in his comforting, masculine scent growing harder and harder to resist. It was like fighting a natural instinct, every fiber of your body yelling at you to give in.

But what made it even harder was the simple fact that he would never see you in that light. Nanami was too good a man, you knew it, everyone knew it. It was supposed to lessen your attraction, but somehow it made it stronger. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with you.

Averting your gaze from the window, you couldn't help but let your eyes linger on his thighs, the thickness of them stretched across the seat, muscles straining against his tight slacks. You swallowed as your mind began to wander.

You imagined his big hand, the same one he used to exorcise curses, gently caressing the nape of your neck, the other one cupping your cheek so tenderly, as if you would crack under the slightest pressure, thumb brushing under your eye. The band of his watch would dig lightly into your skin, leaving faint marks that you'd only notice later when you looked in the mirror.

The sounds he'd make, a hungry humming vibrating against your lips as his mouth would fit perfectly against yours in a desperate rhythm, as if he'd waited far too long to devour you. A choked moan as your hand pressed against his thigh to stabilize yourself, nails digging into the fat there as the muscles twitched under your burning touch. 

The deep blush that would color his cheeks, spreading across the bridge of his nose as his breath hitched. The growing bulge between his thighs that would ache and harden as you brushed your fingertips over it, his hips lifting up and chasing for more.

You wanted to see him crumble because of you, to succumb to his desires and abandon his principles. To bring all the pleasure that brew underneath his skin to a boil. But you weren't naive; you knew it would only remain a distant dream, a hidden fantasy of yours. Because it was Nanami.

"I'm just exhausted," you finally responded with a shake of your head, daring to briefly meet his piercing brown eyes, rid of his glasses. You watched how his lips pressed into a flat line, his head tilted the slightest bit. You thought the expression on his face could be concern.

"Then you should take it easy," Nanami said, so frustratingly considerate. "You may be an adult, but you're still too young to suffer all this stress."

Immediately, as if he had pressed a trigger point, a groan left your mouth at his words and your head slammed back against the car seat rather dramatically. Your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Stop treating me like an incompetent child. I can handle this perfectly fine. Seriously, you're acting as if I’ve just started as a sorcerer, even though I've been doing this for several years now."

Nanami went still and blinked. His brows furrowed, the shadows on his face darkened, and he shifted in his seat to face you properly. "I do believe you're competent. You're talented, but that doesn't mean you should disregard your own limits."

Your eyelashes fluttered and you peered at him from the corner of your half-lidded eye.

"I just want you to take me seriously."

"I do. And I don't want you to end up like me; it's my duty as your senior to make sure you have it better than I did."

"But it makes me feel like shit," you bit back, all the frustration pouring out of you like an uncontrollable body of water. You couldn't hold back anymore, the gates now opened. "You may have no ill intentions, but that doesn't mean your actions can't negatively affect me."

You waved a hand at him. "And then you had to save me today. I really thought I could do it for a moment, but of course I screwed up. And you had to clean up after me."

"You did not mess up," Nanami insisted stubbornly.

“Oh, c’mon,” you scowled. “I always seem to do so in your eyes.”

"I never thought of you that way," Nanami replied, the tension in his face softening. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Well," you murmured, rubbing the back of your neck. "I guess that's on me." You exhaled, head tipped back. "It's just hard, you know? To show any sign of weakness."

"But it's not weakness. You're just being human."

Then he reached his hand up, and you watched as he placed it on your shoulder, the size of his hand dwarfing it. The warmth of his careful touch made your skin tingle through your clothes, his thumb rubbing lightly against the tingling spot. In just a few seconds, you found it harder to breathe, the air too stuffy in his car, which seemed to have shrunk. 

A casual touch, you thought. Nothing special. But the way it consumed you and festered through your body was anything but casual.

"You did well today,” Nanami said pointedly, an attempt to calm and reassure you. The deep timbre of his voice crossed the small distance between you and traveled through your body, tightening the knot in your stomach. Your fingers pressed into the side of your seat. You held his piercing stare, fearing for a moment that he could read you every thought and figure you out. Your tongue poked out to wet your lips. A weak nod was all you could give him.  

He removed his hand, slowly, and for a fleeting moment you thought that his fingers lingered on you for a little too long before he resumed his former position and his hand returned to his leg.

You subtly shook your head again – clearly your exhaustion was taking over you and clouding your mind. You had to get yourself together. Maybe a short trip to Shoko would help.

"How do you deal with all this stress?" you asked, more calmly now that the cat was out of the bag.

He made a sound, a mix of a huff and a sigh. “I don’t deal with it; I’m afraid it will always accompany me.”

You hummed, tilting your head to rest on your shoulder. Your eyes flickered back to him. "Sounds exhausting. Have you tried anything to relieve the stress?"

“I don’t think there’s something that could relieve it. I guess that’s just the price I pay as a sorcerer.”

"Really?" you asked, sounding skeptical.  "Is there really nothing that would help relax your body? Take your mind off all this jujutsu stuff?"

His lips parted, words sitting right on the tip of his tongue, but they closed again. Instead, “No, I can’t really think of anything.”  

“Hmh, but that way you might die from the stress, and not because of a mission. That would be an unimpressive way to go.”

To your surprise, he let out a snort, the ghost of a thin smile forming on his face.

“You’re probably right.”

“Maybe I can help.”

He didn’t respond right away. Then, “How?”

"By locking Gojo up for a few hours. Or a few days."

The amused glint in the brown of his irises returned. He rubbed his eyes.

"I'm afraid that won't do much. Knowing him, he'd find a way to be annoying from wherever he's locked up."

You were about to reply, hoping to keep the conversation going, but then you looked outside; the rain had stopped. All that remained was the dark sky. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, hesitating.

"…I have to go now. It’s late and you probably also want to go home."

He gave you a curt nod. His eyes were now focused forward, an unreadable expression crossing his face.

You opened the door and climbed out of the seat, your feet already on the ground, before you turned your head slightly, giving Nanami a view of your side profile.

“…thank you, Nanami.” And I’m sorry, you wanted to add. But you weren’t there yet. Your stupid pride still had a firm grip on you and not even the little conversation you had could get you out of it. Perhaps you needed more time.

“Of course.”

As you closed the door and started to walk away, you didn't get to see him slump back into his seat with a heavy sigh, a hand running down his face, the tips of his ears turning a crimson color as shame coursed through his veins.

You would be the death of him, he was sure of it.

[bitter-hibiscus]

what are some of your favorite robin jason headcanons

ARGH DONT GET ME STARTED---

Commissioner Gordon isn't allowed to smoke around Robin!Jason. He WILL make puppydog eyes the entire night to try and get commish to give him one

He's the only Robin who's allowed the aud in the Batmobile because he shares Bruce's music taste

Since his room in the manor is Dick's old one, he found Dick's old Flying Graysons poster and taped it above his bed. He uses it as motivation for Robin because if Dick can still be good despite the tragedy of the Graysons then he can too

Selina is his favorite "family" member because she took him to Wildcat's boxing ring the first time they went out together AND she's the only one in that buys him batburgers

He only cooks for himself, because cooking for Bruce makes him think of Catherine's last years :)

He has a huge scar from his lip to his left eye from where Willis' wedding ring caught on his skin once

His favorite book is The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe

He spends his first two months in the manor sleeping in the closet instead of the bed

His shower in the Batcave has a bird print on the curtain (when he comes back as Red Hood, it's changed to a fox print)

Jason loves anything chocolate and hates anything strawberry EXCEPT for shortcake. Alfred makes brownies very often

Jason took a knife from the kitchen the day he moved into the manor and hid it under his pillow. Bruce knows but never asked him to give it back. Jason puts it back in the kitchen on the 3 month mark

Jason never has any money despite his allowance being hundreds of dollars because he just leaves them in his childhood friends (Max, Numbers, etc) bedrooms every time

Eddie comes over once every 2-ish months and the first time he's there and Dick comes over Dick is CONVINCED Bruce got another one. Jason runs with it and almost convinces Alfred that Eddie is his new brother

Jason has a winter version of the Robin uniform and the cape has 1) a hood and 2) fur lining. He has to replace it often because he gives it to homeless kids as a blanket more often than not. Bruce is glad to buy him new ones

If he goes to Crime Alley as a civilian, every single crook will ask him if he's "Willis' boy" because when he was still alive, Willis couldn't go more than 10 minutes without telling his coworkers about his little prince

Jason uses a leave-on conditioner for his curls that Dick recommended him. It smells like oranges, and becomes the scent that Bruce associates with him

His favorite piece of clothing is a dark red sweater with two yellow stripes that Clark sent to him for his birthday

Speaking of Clark, his Superman autograph is framed on the wall in his room

He makes friendship bracelets when he's bored!! Most of them he gives to children he rescues as Robin (it becomes Gotham Culture to compare how many Robin friendship bracelets you have. The record is 23). The ones he doesn't give to victims are usually given to Rena or Eddie (and, in one rare occasion, to Bruce. it says "Spooky." Bruce still wears it after Jason comes back)

Robin Jason looks like a doll. He has an up-tipped button nose and eyes three times the size they ought to be, big eyelashes and cupids bow lips. He looks like Sheila as Robin, and like Willis as Red Hood

He has a tattoo in the shape of a batarang on his shoulder because of Willis (which I've written about here)

Okay i just realized how long this is oh my god. I didn't even make a DENT on my Robin Jason headcanons. god help me

[darkdemeter]

MY SUMMONING

⚤ College student!Wanda Maximoff x GN/Female/Male demon Werewolf!Reader 18+ SMUT, MDNI — (gn/f/m) reader with a dick — monster fucking — female oral receiving — long demon monster tongue can do many things — unprotected p in v sex — some profanity — *cough* laundry mutt!reader — I think that's it? ✎ 4.5k Reincarnated love can be a bitch when you're stuffed into an ancient pocket dimension for thousands of years because the peasants reviled and scorned you. How you've yearned to return to her, promising that one day you shall join her side again as her faithful, shadowed acolyte. Now awoken to reunite with your master on the night where her magic is most potent to release you from your prison, you're summoned by her... but not her. No matter. A lover is a lover, and your love is eternally devoted to her. Now to consummate it at long last.

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

No. There was no way this is happening. No way! This was all meant to be some stupid little joke… 

Alright, maybe dabbling in the assortments of witchcraft and old leather-bound tomes written in an ancient language wasn’t the best of pranks to pull, but it was Halloween and Wanda wanted to have her own fun tonight. 

She doesn’t have to read the room hard to know she was practically fifth wheeling through her Halloween night. Steve and Peggy, the all-dream couple on campus, while Bucky and Nat were in the beginning prime of their relationship. Yes, both were pretty popular and many people thought their couplings adorable — if not envious of the partner — but Wanda couldn’t help but feel like an outcast all night long. She’s been following them around, attending a party or two, getting up to crazy shenanigans that ought to land them all a night behind bars until bail.

No. Wanda Maximoff, one of the brightest students in her major’s class, likes to dabble in… odd things. Peggy and Nat both knew of this certain attraction of hers, but it had been a rather closely guarded secret until now.

Breaking into the old burnt down chapel off the corner of Main Street, surrounded by the old, white picket fence, hadn’t seemed like a half-bad idea. 

All fun and games until Wanda approached the podium where a dusty casing of leather sat, singed but untouched by the long forgotten fire. The yellowed, toughened skin of parchment paper crackled and rumpled with each turn over, her green eyes almost glowing with renewed fascination. She stopped at the book’s center when something caught her attention. Her eyes slip to widen a little at the sketching of a large, looming form of a wolf creature whose entire head bears only its skull, standing on its hind legs behind the regal figure of a loosely-clad robed woman. The image itself was intimately intoxicating to look upon. Something about it was pulling her to silently read over the daggered calligraphy. The woman’s illustrated body conveys what her drawn features lack; a postured body of contentment. Security. Lustful wanting. 

And the tall creature before her stood proudly. Protectively. Equally wanting and willing. 

The soft pad of her finger runs over the drawing, stroking the blackened detailing of the fur and skull face. Blooming deep in her abandoned, she feels that awakened need that begins to throb between her thighs and forces them to push together quickly, embarrassed with a warm glow in her cheeks. 

While Peggy had urged that she leave the book and its ominous being there alone, she had been outranked by the other three who egged her on.

How could she say no? What harm could come from an obvious prop of the occult? As if a place so holy could harbour anything dangerous. With a cheeky grin, eyes slowly moving back and forth between her friends and the page she read from, she began to read aloud the incantation. 

Before the very collective eyes of four witnesses, the surrounding candles sizzled with rekindled life, a singular flame dancing on each blackened wick before it would throb dimly in their warm arousement. A copied sensation Wanda felt herself able to relate to. 

“Wanda…” Peggy whimpers, unsure. Steve only pulled her closer to him but made no intent in stopping Wanda as she continued to recite the chant. 

The old chapel is awakened with a deadly, hollow breath, howling ominously in a deep and thunderous wind that travels through the marrow of bones and tenses the muscles. The air eagerly lapped and ravished at them, as if tasting them on its non-existent tongue. 

The rattle of the ancient, relic urns chattered on their shelves beneath a baritone of a rumble that became suspiciously familiar to a growl, that of a predatory beast. Wanda’s hair whipped around to almost blinding her vision but she feels like she’s incapable to stop, that whatever force pulled her in the first place has full control over her, that even if she wanted to — and she doesn’t — she couldn’t stop. 

Not until her words and voice enunciate the final lyric of whatever summoning spell she reads. 

“Come hither, loyal acolyte, silhouette and blackened, come back to your vengeful pedestal upon the earth — I beckon you from your voided prison, answer my summoning!”

Behind the knowledge of Wanda’s awareness, the visage of an animal skull formed in a smoky apparition finally pushed her friends to flee.

“Fuck this!” Bucky shouts, pulling Natasha with him until his grip is white knuckled around her wrist. Steve mimics the action and sentiment with Peggy. Each of their screams joined the territorial growls and roars as they ran to the cellar’s exit. 

“Wait—!” Wanda’s hand stretches out, gripping for her friends pleadingly only for the cellar door to boom loudly as the doors slam to a close. 

The air feels cold around her yet so thickly laced, it shrouded her in darkness despite the many candles lit around her. Behind her, tendrils of grappling mist form into spiraling columns that wrap and weave together into a crafting tower, silent with a voice she hears as a mere whisper. Your fur manifests in this realm with a bristled motion and your ears immediately twitch, perking up at each minute breath she utters in her shell-shocked state. 

Your master.

Oh, how long it has been since you last graced her beauty, her powerful aura and taken her into your enveloping hold. For too long she has been away from you. A tiny, coiled rasp akin to a curious, predatory purr emits from the chasm of your large chest. 

Wanda’s voice feels raw, stretched thinly by the grimoire’s spell and her hand delicately moves to pet and stroke it but a figment of lithe, cold clawed fingers beat her to it. 

A gasp hiccups in her throat as her head is tilted back slowly. Her eyes meet glowing balls of flame within the hollow frame of shallow eye sockets. A chiseled and grizzly face of a skull decorated with small cracks and a gaping maw revealing the serrated blades of teeth, moistened with an oily slick from a long, black limb of a tongue. 

No way…

You make the sound of that grinding, off-note purr again, louder to reach her ears. “Milenec…”

Odd as it was to feel an inkling of acknowledgement to the term. It sounds so… endearing. Like she’s heard it before but not in this lifetime. The aspect of a time before her existence here and now is brought into question immediately. 

“Y-you can talk…” she chokes out through a whispered breath, “What are you?”

“Milenec…  it  is  me.” You let her slip from your grasp where she stumbles back, the rise of her heels clobbering against the cellar flooring like loud cracks of thunder. Your body moves unlike any natural thing on this earth. It contorts, twisting and bending in places that shouldn’t. 

You body arcs and crosses over the podium with slinking ease, the wispy nature of your fur bellows in airy streams akin to the warp of fire and your long tail follows you as a trail of smoke; your body pushed and pulled like a magnetic charge between this realm and the next, there are forces at work that attempt to banish you and hold you grounded here. 

“Don’t  you  remember  me?” 

“I don’t understand,” Wanda mutters. With a tilt of your large head that furls your ears with a flop, you speak with a guttural enunciation. “You  freed  me,  Master. For  so  long  I’ve  waited,  trapped  in  the  void. But  you  kept  your  word. You  summoned  me.”

“I-I… that was… that was just a joke, I d-didn’t mean to—”

“But  you  did.” Low and unwavering is your tone, musing to and fro within the fabrication of vocalisation. 

You stalk closer until the bony bridge of your skull bows down to meet her at eye level. “And  now  we  can  finally  be  together…”

“Properly…  consummate  our  love.” 

What?

Wanda stumbles back, nearly caving in on her heel in her blind stun but the shadowy appendage of your tail wraps her and draws her in closer so that her breasts meet the glistening grotesque of your tongue. 

Long and expressive, it explores the exposure of her cleavage, tasting the warm dew of her skin and a thrumming growl rattles in your ribcage like bones being shaken in a hollow encasement. 

With a quivering breath, Wanda sighs, caught in the midst of this awakened desire and her need to get away. “I’m not—Ah… who you think I am…”

Pulling away and bumping the skinless mouth of your face against her cheek, you huff. The tattered, darkened rings hidden deep within the sockets of the skull move like muscled skin. A cursed deformity? 

An indication that you were once something more? 

The visceral shade of glowing amber shines ominously bright like a flame tempered angrily.

“A  reincarn…” The words speak as an echoing drawl that overlaps together. “But  my  Milenec  all  the  same…  my  mate.”

“M-mate?” Wanda stutters and you nod with a low purr. 

Had her dabbling in magic really cost her this time? For all her friend’s pleading to reconsider her less than tame rituals and practices, she truly opened the genie bottle on this one. And that genie happened to be a mystical entity hellbent on her being someone someone it knows. A reincarnate. 

Wanda cannot exactly place it within herself, but there is a certain cadence of allure in your words. Your profession that you and her are meant to be together. She’s felt so lonely as of late after her messy breakup with her ex. Feeling unwanted and pathetically isolated, believing that nobody else wanted her because of her taboo hobbies. 

But to think that this… creature wants her. She feels like it’s a sort of lust yearning to break free of herself. That this is right. That you’re meant to be. 

Your hands move to cradle her jaw, her visage cutely small compared to your hands. Her breath comes in light pants. “May  I…  kiss  you,  Milenec?” 

When Wanda had arrived back at her dorm room, she mostly expected it to be barren of her roommate after what occurred tonight. No doubt staying with Bucky. Her plump lips still reside with this vibrating tension after the kiss you shared. It was exotically powerful, submissively contained despite the ravenous hunger she could all but feel course through your materialised body. 

The grimoire sat on her dresser, a foreboding piece of occult just laid out in the open. You advised her to take it with her.

“It  was  yours.  Take  it.”

From the vessel of her sleeping form, you emerge as the figment moving through the shadows, a tainted mass like water in oil. The native, lesser darkness submits beneath your imposing will, threatened by you. As a wayward spirit now marking your haunting claim to this new territory, you drift around your surroundings under an inquisitive note to investigate. 

Your master is… different. She must be that of a reincarn. The loss of her memories — the loss of you — and in the matter that the world has changed so much since you were last summoned to this realm. Only the telltale sign of your presence leaves your shadow out in the open view, under the protruding light of the moon painted over the wall. 

Before you, your hand muses between the phases of existence, taking care to be gentle when your claw pokes and plucks at a button eye of a stuffed toy of a bear. You recall young village girls who made their comforting friends from old straw, ragged scraps of hemp and linen thread. Witches of the craft also used similar ingredients to create dolls, giving them onto you to then find and slaughter them. Ah, those were the days you were admired as a god. A deity of the dark and the shadows, where your name was uttered on the faint whisper of fear and gasped aloud in seek of repentance. 

Then your beloved summoned you, bound you in the sustained chains of her servanthood, and despite your nature to feel angered because of your entrapment; you admired the raw power she held. Together, you both would be unstoppable. In pledge of your divine protection and loyalty, she would bed you and settle your every carnal desire. She announced her soul yours to take in exchange that you would in turn serve as her faithful acolyte, the fonted source behind her increasing magic. 

A woman after your own heart. No other witch of her time had made such an offering so appealing. Usually they slew a few mortals as a sacrifice or the odd bassinet that cradled a babe surrounded by small, dead birds; all to ask your favour and to surrender a portion of your power to make them powerful.

You’re not sure why these women thought you’d have such need for innocent, infant souls. But you made their treachery pay for their disgusting insinuation. Nor did you ever condone the contracts over the young. A foul entity of the void but one with a consciousness. That was what your true followers came to understand. 

Brought back to the present you stand before the mirror of Wanda’s vanity. Small framed adornments hang by an invisible force that you decree is faulty magic, based on how easily it wanes upon touching it with the graze of a single clawed finger. Your mistress smiles in each one, some with the company of who you presume to be her followers, and others she is alone; in wait for your shadow to loom hazily in the next frame. 

This modern age still confounds you but you will learn it. And with it, you will have all knees bend before your master. You will finally sate one another as you both promised for an eternity. Beside the vanity sits a woven basket. You come completely from the cloak of your phantomhood when the smell hits you. A strong odor exudes from it and you curiously click the lid open. The scent wafts higher, more intense and your core awakens with arousement. You can smell the intensity of her on the used clothes. The nose hole of your skulled face inhales  deeply, sharply with a wheezing crackle. Your tongue laps at the soaking patch of her recent loins, groaning at the way hunger consumes you. 

Your ears rattle with a perked flicker at the piercing chord of Wanda’s softened whine. Your head swerves to peer over your shoulder, a penetrative gaze of two smoldering fires set upon her. How beautiful she looks, the blanket pooled to her stomach, revealing the sculpt of her form, a less than orderly top clinging to her loosely and barely concealing the spill of her breasts. 

As a misted cluster of wavering smoke, you saunter towards her until you stand over her at the side of the bed. Your head cranes on a tilted axis as you examine her closely. Her brows scrunched together, troubled and her body struggles and writhes pathetically, more so as she whines and moans breathlessly under the stir of her slumber. A low rumble vibrates in the chasm of your chest that it echoes deeply. 

Her hips jerk and she lets out another pitiful sound. She’s needy…

She  yearns  for  us…

She’s  ready…

It’s  now  our  time…

With one hand you cup her at the apex between her thighs and she shivers, hips jumping forward into your palming embrace. You growl with a low-edged timbre, desire taking hold of you. You feel the cool dampness soak her panties much like the ones in the basket and her smell… it takes every single sin of yours to remember not to ravish her outright lest you tear her open. 

She continues to move against the wide spread of your hand, rubbing herself on you. Her muscles go rigged with each needy roll of her hips and her throat constricts around her mumbled phrases and wanting sounds. 

She  needs  us…

You intrude two long fingers beneath the thin fabric of her panties, your thumb having sought out her clit. You run along her folds with tantilising motion, teasing. Your master gives a low, sulky moan in turn. Her legs spread further apart to welcome you, accommodate your invading advancements and her breath quickens that her breasts become strained against her top. How you’ll tear it off her in due time. Nothing will keep you apart an longer, nothing else shall hinder you from bearing witness to her naked body pinned beneath you or when she takes her place above you; to spear herself on the throne that is your cock. She will come to remember her manners, her power and then… nothing will remain in your path. You two shall be unstoppable. 

You push the two fingering appendages past her moist folds and she gasps curtly, her spine arching beautifully from the mattress. Finally, she’s embracing that which is long overdue. Your thumb rolls her cli in slowly drawn circles, pressing with a touch of firmness to let her know your toying is an act to please. 

Her name parts through her agape lips and her dark lashes beat with a sleepy flutter, unaware completely to what transpires. 

“Milenec…” you purr. The darkened dart of your tongue slides over the maw of your bony teeth, wishful to savour her taste. You lower yourself at her side, your other hand moves up, caressing the temple of her body until it reaches the nape of her neck. Your jaw cracks and pops, a wiry whisper of breath lashes through the hollow of your throat and your tongue extends further from your mouth. Still fingering her velvety insides until she’s coating you with her arousal, her clit thrumming with a lively pulse, your tongue becomes integrated into the pleasurable mix. 

You grunt and moan with a thousand resounding echoes bouncing back and forth between the walls. You taste the sweetened dew of her skin, its slight tang of salty residue. It slides over the slim plane of her stomach, caressing the creased threshold of her legs right near her navel and then upwards. The damned fabric offends you in your aroused exploration. Your tongue slips beneath its material hem and travels between her breasts, rippling for a moment before tearing the top down its middle. Her nipples become stiff, erected by the sudden chill that riddles her skin with goosebumps. 

Her chorus of moans spurs you on. The inky tendril of your tongue glides over each breast, playful with both nipples until you leave a shiny gloss behind. It has her mewing in a way that makes your cock throb and stand between your legs. The thicker portion of your tongue slides and fondles over the curve of her breasts, its extension moving back down her body following the natural weight of her belly until your tongue prods at her clit. It’s cold to her, she lets out a shivered sigh and a softened mewl of your name. 

Along with your fingers, your tongue divides the lips of her slickened pussy apart, becoming a third instrument that strokes her from within. Her walls are hot around you and it clouds your mind with a clouded lust, her snug walls that are flushed with a velvety feel that’s moistened; a precious cove where she beckons your entreating defilement. You groan with a slurping lap in indulgence to her taste finally on your tongue. Sweetened like a honeyed wine, the taste of a feverish delight. Greedily, you sink your tongue further inside of her. 

She arches her back further and your hand supports her at the backend of her skull as she cries out your name, her breath panting and concealing that of a blissful scream. Her eyes open to the dimly lit world around her, the lamplight having flickered in warning that its lighting will expire soon the moment you laid your hands on her. Terrorised by a series of gasps and hiccuping moans, her hands fist and clench at the chilly spires of your misty fur, just thick enough to grab onto but the fainter portions slip through her hold. 

“Y–Y/n… ah—ahh! My acolyte…”

You give a mused whine at the teetering edge of her voice, a bended inflection as she now balances horribly on the verge of her own orgasm; a heavenly relief. “Right there… please, r–right there!”

Your thumb becomes aggressive on her clit and you pull her to sit up slightly. The widened base of your head forces her legs to remain open no matter how much she clenches them against you, she pulls at the mane of fur around your neck as she begs you. 

With a few more strokes of your fingers and tongue, she cums. Her body trembles violently as she’s taken by the white, hot flush that blinds her for a moment and her juices reward you; allowing you to devour it with gulping eagerness. As a last effort, your fingers work to stretch her walls out and she winces before you withdraw both appendages. 

Her chest extends with each large breath and her eyes drown with a deepened pool of lust, the sparkle of scarlet dancing within them. Her power grows with digesting effort through each powerful exchange of your sexual endeavors. Your tongue retracts slightly back down into the unknown and pitless depths of your gullet and you growl deeply. 

Wanda’s hands become fixed at your shoulders and pull at you, inviting you. With a serpentine movement, your tongue moves slowly over the mound of her clit, eliciting a sharpened gasp from Wanda. Further, it moves up her body again, wrapping as a band around her breasts and squeezing her; a mouse caught in your trap. The thinner flare of your tongue is a wonderful muscle all its own when it balances merely of its own accord before her lips, like a snake risen up for the strike. 

Just from the burning amber of your eyes she understands you want her to taste herself. Her plump lips open weakly and you push the inky, slick covered tip into her mouth. Her tongue moves forward and flicks at the slitted divide of your forked muscle; and your body ripples with an unworldly, loud hum. She will come to understand such an area is akin to the sensitive tip to your weeping cockhead.

Your cock twitches and you move until your widened gate sits between her legs. Her soft, delicate thighs are forced to rest against the strong, muscled limbs of your own, just barely meeting at level with your hips and where her awaiting cunt lines up with your cock. 

You move your tongue as a secondary thrusting muscle. Wnda moans a muffled song around it, her own tongue stroking the underbelly of the blackened length and your hips pitch forward with an eager roll. Your tip notches between the capture of her swollen pissy lips and you push forward.

Her body immediately tenses up and your hands hold tight to her wrists, ensuring her grip that claws at your remains there. You’ve never been opposed to pain mixing with pleasure. 

The pronunciation of your name vibrates through your tongue and you growl. Her walls constrict around you with that hot flushness, fluttering as she eases her body to relax. Your size is one she hasn’t experienced before, not even her ex could compare. You pick up your thrust promptly, shoving your cock in and out, in and out. When you withdraw your tongue, the coiled muscle tightening around her ribcage with each thrust you force to penetrate her deeper, she lets out a sighing moan. Her lashes beat fast and her eyes roll back, lulled by the backward crane of her head that falls back against the pillow. 

“Y-yeah, there, right there…”

“Mmm—mhph, so deep!”

How you’ve waited so long to hear her pleasure all to yourself. It’s intoxicating to be praised by your master and your pace quickens. Your hips snap faster and harder with a harshened force that rocks the bed back and forth with a grinding squeak, the headboard splintering a straight line into the wall from the pounding brunt. 

“Shit, shit— I’m gonna—ah!”

You can hear her deep within the recess of her soul. Her reincarn a physical vessel that harbours your first and only love. Your beloved mate. She sings out to you; summoning you. 

You see her within the blind of a memory, seeing the woman beneath you as you do your master. 

You see two different branches of her soul. 

And the thought that your master in this life has faced so much judgment, that her previous lover left her — not that he would have been around much longer if he’d been in the picture still. 

A new quarry to hunt once your consummation was complete. A prize to bring back to your mate. Her first sacrificial offering you’d present to appease her.

Her legs lock around your sturdy hips to drag you further inside of her, kissing the delicate plush of her cervix that has her keening, her lips parted with deep and loud moans that would disturb the neighbouring dorms for sure. 

“Milenec…,” you rattle with a purring growl, “My  Milenec…  release,  let  go.”

For a second time, Wanda bends to the bliss of her euphoria. Cumming around your cock, her walls hug you tightly and her body trembles again with a feverish tingle. It feels like her insides are boiling but her skin is plagued by the wave of coldness. 

Your ears and back with a sharp howl as your knot swells before erupting with the spurting ropes of your release, listening to the rhythmic and moistened glide of where your bodies lock together now. It’s a sound you want to hear for eternity. 

Your tongue loosens around her bust and slinks back down into your gullet, concealing its impressive length for another time. 

“I feel…” Her words come out as a faded exhale. She’s unable to find the words as she stares up at you, a hand caressing the bony curve of your jaw that pops back into place after hanging so low. 

“Whole.”

No longer will your darling master feel the shaded cloak of neglect and disregard. She will feel what it means to truly be loved. Desired. Worshipped. As your mate she falls under your protection and you will guard her fiercely. You will protect the witch who summoned you all those years ago and you shall forever pledge your service to the witch before you now.

She is one and the same. A lover is a lover even through ages past. Nothing will change the bargain you forged long ago. Not the eyes that spear her to the pyre that burned her in ages old, nor the imprisonment of the void, or even the grades she appears desperate to achieve — though you believe she should turn her studies to that of the grimoire: her true potential.

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ no note from the author