#and it cuts straight to him writing She’s Lost Control

[callsignrooroo]

You Never Left Me

A/N: Eeee! Here it is y’all! So excited to for this be out there. This was my first time writing straight smut, so I hope I did it justice!

Minors and ageless blogs do not interact!

A big thank you to @hederasgarden for being my beta for a large portion of this fic!

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Parent loss, p in v sex, AFAB reader, mentioned birth control, unsafe sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), dirty talk. I think that’s it, if anyone sees anything else please feel to dm me!

Coming back home always felt heavy. It had been five long years since you lost everything you knew, including your parents, to a tornado that happened faster than you could blink. Five long years since the last time you saw your one that got away– Tyler Owens. 

Blinking dust out of your eyes, you jumped out of your truck. You were right down the road from the motel where you were staying and had stopped to get some snacks for the morning. You had to be at the bank first thing and knew you wouldn't have time for breakfast. Just as you were walking up to the gas station door, it burst open and before you could get out of the way, you knocked into two figures. 

“Lily, you dumbass, I told you to slow down,” Boone snapped. 

“Oh shut it, it’s not like you are in any less rush, you're just as much a sucker for Tyler's cooking as the rest of us,” Lily grumbled. 

All three of you stopped in your tracks as you made eye contact.

“Shit”, you said.

“Shit,” Lily and Boone echoed simultaneously. 

You heard someone grumble from behind your two friends, and you quickly stepped out of the way, pulling them both with you. 

“So, uh, I thought you guys were in Enid,” you said awkwardly. 

Boone started sputtering and Lily cut him off. “Boone, you're going to catch flies. And, you, after five years of not seeing each other in person, that’s all you have to say,” she exclaimed. 

You cast your eyes downward.

Boone, however, finally seemed to get his tongue in working order. “Does Tyler know you're here?” he questioned. 

Your eyes snapped back up at the mention of his name. “No,” you emphasized.

Boone got a distinct look of disapproval on his face, and Lily looked at you like she knew something you didn’t. 

“Oh, this is going to end well,” Boone said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

Lily shoved him and he huffed. “You have to tell him,” she said, her eyes on yours.

This was precisely what you were afraid of and exactly why you planned your trip around their posted schedule on  YouTube. You weren’t sure you'd ever be ready to deal with him, not after you left.  “No, I don’t. I’m leaving in two days, and as much as I wish I could stay,” 

Boone scoffed, and Lily shoved him again, 

“I have work to get back to,” you explained. 

Lily crossed her arms and her expression shifted to hard determination. “If you don’t tell him, I will,” she stated simply. You blinked hard, and even Boone looked surprised by her boldness. 

“Lily, please, nothing good will come out of this,” you begged. 

The black-haired girl shook her head. “I mean it, he deserves to know,” she said seriously.

You felt tears prick your eyes. “Lily, please, I can't do this now, it’s been too long,” you pleaded. 

Her dark eyes softened and she reached for your hand. “Trust me, he needs to know,” she assured. Your eyes flicked to Boone’s and you could tell he agreed. 

“Fine, I’ll tell him,” you relented. 

“You promise,” she questioned, eyebrows raised. 

“I promise.”

She smiled brightly and pulled you into a hug. “Good. Text me before your flight and we can all get breakfast before you leave,” she chirped. 

You glanced at Boone, and before you could open your mouth, he hugged you and squeezed you tight. “You better text us,” he said into your hair. 

You smiled. “I promise.”. 

Lily looked at her phone and cursed. “Shit, we have to go, Tyler needed the milk to finish the food.” Boone rolled his eyes and grabbed the keys from her.

You shook your head as you walked into the gas station.

Later that night, you stared at Tyler’s contact photo. It was an old one, a picture of him right off a bull, smiling wide, before his injury. You watched the blinking cursor, waiting for some grand thought to strike you on how to tell him you were home. Eventually, you sighed and turned the lamp off.

~~

You closed your eyes as you leaned against your motel door. The morning had been long, and all you wanted to do was sleep. The bankers had been patient with you when they explained where the money in the found account had come from. You were thankful they didn't make things awkward when you started to cry when they explained the money was from a fund your parents set up as a child. You were wiped emotionally, but you knew if you didn't keep your promise to Lily, she would tell Tyler you were in town herself, and you knew that wasn't the right way for him to find out. 

Your phone dinged, and you glanced at it.

From: Lillypad :): We all just left, now’s your chance babes :*

A second later, another text came through. 

From: Booney: he never stopped

You blinked as you stared at the text. Never stopped what? Caring? Missing you the same primal way you missed him? Hating you for leaving him behind after flying out of town like a bat out of hell? You weren't sure, but you knew it was time to find out. 

You slipped out of the dress you wore to the bank and slipped into a tank top, your favorite pair of jeans, and your worn boots. It was now or never. 

To: Lilypad :): He’s still at his mama’s house?

From: Lilypad :): Like he’d ever leave

You felt your heart rate increase as the house came into view. You had so many memories of this place. Memories of the four of you piled up in the living room as kids, memories of you and Tyler sitting on the roof talking about going to college, memories of hugging him as he sobbed when his mama died, and then him holding you in his strong arms after your parents funeral. You shook your head to clear your thoughts, but the one you never stopped thinking of popped into your head instead. 

 The last memory you had of Tyler and this house was five years ago, on the day you left for Texas, and how you swore you saw tears in his green eyes as you drove away from the porch you had both sat on together so many times. You glanced in the visor mirror and realized your eyes were damp. You swiped at them before stepping out of your truck. When Tyler didn't immediately materialize on the front porch, you realized he must be at the back of the house on the sun porch. You took one last deep breath before taking your boots off at the door. You walked in, and a wave of nostalgia hit you as you spotted the magazines by the kitchen sink. You slowly crept through the house, memory after memory hitting you, until you reached the doorway of the sunroom. 

The second your eyes landed on him, it felt like a piece of your heart clicked back into place, and you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be. Thoughts of Texas were forgotten, and you just took him in. He looked good, even better than you remembered. He had a pencil in his mouth, and his brows were creased as he stared at his computer. You stood there and just took in the sight of him until eventually, he looked up.

He blinked several times before getting to his feet. He stood there for several long moments before crossing the room in a few quick steps to stand in front of you. He went to reach for you and then stopped himself. “Are you real?” he whispered into the silence. 

“Hi Tyer,” you murmured. The second his name left your lips, he was pulling you into a crushing hug. You immediately relaxed into his arms, overwhelmed by the feeling of his solid chest against yours and the smell of him; fresh laundry, wind, and something that was so intrinsically Tyler, you could never pinpoint it. 

“You’re here,”  he breathed into your hair. 

You nodded as best as you could pressed so close. “I’m home,” you said, voice laced with double meaning. 

“How? Why? Hey, look at me,” he said gently when you looked down at your feet. 

He hooked his thumb on your chin and brought your head up so you could look up into his eyes. “The bank,” you explained lowly.  He gazed into your eyes, patiently waiting. “The bank found an account, and I had to come sign for it,” you told him. 

“Your parents?” he questioned softly. 

When you didn't answer, he just continued staring into your eyes. He moved closer to you and caressed his thumb over your cheek. “You are one of the strongest people I know,” he said, voice laced with awe. 

You shook your head, temporarily dislodging his fingers from your face.  “I’m not,” you uttered. 

He brought his other hand up to your face and cradled your face. “You are,” he admired. 

You felt moisture gather in your eyes. “How can you say that, I left,” you sniffed. 

He shook his head and brushed a thumb over your cheekbone. “But you came back,” he muttered. The to me went without saying. 

“Tyler,” you said softly, letting yourself trail off.

“You came back,” he emphasized.

“I wasn’t going to,” you whispered.

You felt him flinch. “I wasn’t going to say anything to anyone, and I thought y’all were in Enid wrangling tornados, but then I saw Lily and Boone, and then Lily said if I didn’t tell you, she’d tell you herself, and I knew that wasn’t the right way to find out, so I came here to see you,” you said in a rush.

He glanced away from you, your face still in his hands, before looking back down at you, and you could see the moisture in his eyes. 

“You weren’t going to tell me you were home?” he asked. 

You couldn’t bear to look at the heartbreak in his green eyes, so you broke out of his embrace and sat on the worn sofa in front of the window. “I didn’t know how and wasn’t sure if you still…” you trailed off again. 

He gingerly sat near to you, close enough that your thighs were touching. “If I still what, sweetheart?” he asked as he leaned closer. 

You shrugged, and you both sat in silence for a few moments. “Boone said you never stopped,” you said quietly.

He moved even closer, tugging your legs so they lay over his lap.  “Did he elaborate?” he pressed. 

You shook your head and looked back into his eyes. Just then, you saw all of him. The softness he held for you, how he was letting himself be vulnerable, and the love he felt for you all shining through his eyes. 

“He didn’t have to,” you admitted. 

“Darlin, I know you know,” he said. “All those nights we watched the sky, and all the days spent in this very room, you have to know,” he said. 

You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again and leaning closer so your foreheads were touching, leaving you practically sitting in his lap. “Of course I did, I’ve always known Tyler since we were kids,” you said emphatically. He let out a shuddery breath but you continued. “But then I lost everything, and it felt like everything changed, and I had to get out, to get away from the grief. I know now, I left you but you never left me.” You had tears running down your face, but Tyler wiped them away with his thumb. 

“Can I kiss you?” he questioned, his lips millimeters from yours. 

Instead of replying, you leaned forward to close the minuscule gap. He groaned into your mouth and you wrapped your arms around his neck. When the two of you had to part for air, Tyler immediately ducked down to suck on your neck. 

“Tyler, the marks,” you said weakly. 

“Yeah baby, I bet you’re gonna wear them like a trophy,” he hummed against your throat. You moaned and pulled him back up to your lips by his hair, and he groaned into your mouth. “That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he mumbled. You moaned again when he gently bit your lip, his tongue quickly coming behind to soothe it. “Tell me this is okay; tell me I can show you how much I’ve always loved you,” he begged.

“Show me, please. Show me, Ty,” you said softly.

He went back to your neck, peppering you with small kisses and intermittent sucks.

“Tyler, I need more,” you whined. 

“More,” he wondered. 

“Please Tyler, don't tease,” you begged, tugging at his hair. He shifted you so you were straddling his sweatpant-clad thigh, and smirked when you moaned at the friction. 

“Fuck,��� you whimpered. 

“Is that what you needed darlin’?” he teased. 

You bit your lip and brought your hand down to cup him through his sweatpants and he groaned, his forehead coming to rest against yours. 

“Is that what you needed, darlin’?” you parroted, eyebrow raised. 

“Oh you little-,” he cut himself off by rolling you both over so you were caged underneath him, quickly adjusting so his knee was connected to your core. 

“Sweetheart, I’ve waited too damn long for this for us to tease each other,” he confessed as he kissed down your neck. 

“Why don’t you do something about it then cowboy?” you asked, smirking. 

“There’s that fire,” he chuckled. He sat up on his legs, pulling you with him, and in one fluid motion, he had your tank top on the floor. He attached his lips to your newly revealed collarbone, one-handedly unlipped your bra, and added that to the quickly growing pile of clothes. You kicked your boots off and turned back to find him staring.

You shivered under his stare. “Your turn cowboy,” you told him, tugging on his shirt. 

In one move his shirt was on the ground, and he was pressed up against your bare chest. 

“Kiss me, please Tyler,” you pled. 

He kissed both of your cheeks before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You moaned as you pressed down against his thigh harder, slowly starting to grind yourself down. A second later he was kissing his way down your chest, stopping to circle his tongue against your left nipple, and then the right one, before going back to suck the left one into his mouth. 

You moaned in pleasure and your hand shot up to grip his hair, causing him to moan against your skin. “Fuck,” you cursed, arching your back as he gently bit down. He crept lower, kissing along your stomach as he went. He kissed along the edge of your jeans and raised a hand to undo the button. He let his head fall back down and leaned in, slowly bringing down the zipper with his teeth. 

“Tyler, holy fuck,” you groaned. You could practically feel his smirk against your thigh.

 “Yeah? I thought you might like that,” he chuckled. 

He peeled your jeans off and then stood up. When you looked at him with confusion, his smoldering eyes softened. “Sweetheart, as long as I've waited for this, you can bet that sweet ass of yours that the first time I get inside you will not be on a couch. 

You giggled as he pulled you up into his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around his muscular hips. You buried your face in his neck as he carried you the short distance to his room, sucking and biting your marks into his perfect skin. 

You whimpered at the loss of contact as he lowered you to the bed. He kissed you softly, and you sighed happily as his tongue brushed against yours. He brushed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, and to your stomach. He rubbed your clit through your panties, and you arched into his touch. “How long has it been, sweetheart,” he questioned with a kiss to your hip bone. 

“Too long,” you panted. 

A moan broke out of your throat when he sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh. 

“Tyler, please, I need you,” you begged brokenly. He hummed again as he hooked his fingers on the sides of your panties, slowly peeling them down your legs, leaving wet kisses as he went. 

“Fuck honey, look at you,” he said in awe. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said.

You groaned and threw an arm over your red cheeks.

“Nuh huh,” Tyler admonished. “Let me see all of you. I’ve waited so long for this, sweet girl,” he said as he slid his fingers over your slicked entrance. 

“Shit, Ty,” you breathed. 

“There we go,” he said, his eyes alight, “let me hear you.”

He dipped his middle finger inside you, gathering your wetness, before he got down on his stomach. He slid his finger in and out, his mouth just a breath away from where you needed him the most. 

“I thought you said no teasing,” you whined as you moved to tug him where you needed him. Before you could, he licked a stripe right through your core. “Fuck,” you yelped.

He didn't say another word, just clamped his large hands around your thighs and licked at you like a man starved. 

“Ty, Ty, Ty,” you chanted. 

He mumbled something against you, and you groaned at the vibrations. 

He pulled away just long enough to suck in a deep breath and murmur, “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.” before attaching his lips to your clit. He eased a finger inside of you, and then moments later, he added another. 

“Ty, fuck, please, I'm ready, I need you,” you sobbed. He withdrew his fingers and crawled back up to pull you in for a kiss. 

You both simultaneously groaned at the taste of you on your tongues. 

He pressed himself against your dripping core, and you gasped into his mouth. Even through his sweatpants, you could tell he was big. 

“Darlin’,” he started, hissing when you pushed your hips down onto him, “I want this just as bad, but I’ll let you know when you can take me,” he finished. 

You ground down on him again, and he hissed through his teeth. “Tyler Owens, if you don't finish what you started in the next five seconds, I'm going to leave and finish it myself,” you threatened. You both knew it was an empty threat; you wanted each other too badly and had waited too long to call it quits now, but the empty threat seemed to put him into overdrive. He peeled his sweatpants off and went back down to suck at your clit. 

“How about this honey? Give me one, and I’ll fill you up like you need,” he bargained. Before you could respond, he was face-first into your pussy, two fingers curling just right. 

“Fuck,” you screamed. 

He pulled away to watch your face, his fingers never stopping. “That’s it, darlin’, come for me, come for me, and I’ll give you my cock,” he crooned at you.

Your arm shot out, and your nails dug into his bicep as you screamed out your orgasm. Before the after-shocks even subsided, Tyler was kissing you hard as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You both groaned when he finally sunk into you. “Fuck darlin’, if you keep squeezin’ me like that, this is going to be over faster than we both want,” he cursed from above you. 

“Fuck Ty, I can't help it,” you whined. It didn't take long for you to adjust, and before you knew it, you were begging again. “Ty, move,” you begged. He started slow, building up a rhythm, and before long, he was letting out small groans in time to his thrusts.

The two of you fell into a breathless rhythm of give-and-take, sweat shining on Tyler's temple and your hair like a halo around your head. 

On a specific stroke, your eyes rolled back into your head. You shouted and dug your heels into his back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you squealed. 

“Yeah, right there, honey. Did I find your sweet spot,” he crooned. 

You clenched down, and he cursed. “Don't stop, Ty,” you cried. Your whole body felt lit up from the inside out. 

He pulled almost all the way out and swiftly pushed back in. Your bodies moved in tandem, a give and take until all you could do was grip his sweat-slicked bicep and hold on. 

“Fuck, I'm close, sweetheart. Give me one more, one more. Let me see you come undone for me,” he moaned. 

He reached down to rub your clit, and your back arched, your whole body like a live wire.

“Fuck, fuck, where,” he stammered. 

“Inside, fuck Tyler, please, give it to me. I’ve got an implant. Give it to me, baby,” you chanted. 

He groaned and fell forward to rest his head on your shoulder as he came. You both lay there for several moments, breathing harshly into each other's ears. 

Eventually, Tyler pulled you close and gently pulled out, shushing you gently as you whined. “I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he told you. You smiled to yourself and sunk deeper into the mattress. A second later, Tyler exited the in-suite bathroom and gently wiped you off with a warm washcloth. When he was done, he threw it in the hamper, crawled behind you, and spooned you close. He kissed your head and sighed in contentment. You both lay there in silence for a while, soaking up each other's warmth and drawing random patterns onto each other’s skin.

After a while, you pipped up. “I have to go back to Texas.” Tyler’s whole body tensed, but before he could say anything, you rolled over to face him and silenced him with a kiss. “I have a job to quit and a lease to break,” you told him gently, smiling. 

He grinned at you. “I think I know a place you can stay at so last minute,” he told you before leaning in for a kiss.

[httpkaulitz]

Can you be my pretty toy?

PAIRINGS: Bill x Female reader

CONTENT: Smut

SYNOPSIS: Bill breaks a promise and you decide to teach him a lesson.

WARNINGS: sub!bill, dom!reader, handjob, overstimulation.

A/N: First time writing sub Bill because I love it but I don't really write it 😋

“I’m so sorry, my love.” Bill hissed, his face turned towards you with a pleading look.

You could feel his body trembling against yours. The heated skin of his back against your chest, his hair sticky with sweat sticking to the skin of your shoulder.

You two had been like this for at least ten minutes now. He apologized to you repeatedly while you stroked his dick with your hand in a firm grip, but at an agonizingly slow speed.

“I won’t do it again, I promise.” He looked away from you, embarrassed at how desperate and pathetic his voice sounded.

“Oh I know you won’t do it again.” You whispered, your tone almost too sweet for someone who was punishing him.

Bill squirmed a little more, desperate as he realized you were nowhere near done with him. He knew very well that you were more than irritated that he disobeyed you.

“It wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t help it.” He whimpered as he gripped the sheets. His thighs trembled every time the soft palm of your hands passed over the head of his dick.

Bill was terribly aroused, to the point of pain.

He looked back at you, his pink lips parted and the black makeup running down his eyes. He seemed almost desperate as he spoke. “I couldn’t ignore her.”

“You couldn’t?” You asked firmly, staring at him. As if he didn’t have the strength to maintain eye contact with you, he looked away.

When he didn’t answer you, you asked again, this time louder. “You couldn’t? Why? Is she special now?”

Bill lets out a sound that’s somewhere between frustration and disappointment when you let go of his cock. Your hand goes straight to his jaw, squeezing it enough to squeeze his pink cheeks. You turn his face, making him look at you again.

“What’s wrong? Did you lost your tongue?” Unable to speak, he just shook his head.

His beautiful brown eyes shine with unshed tears. He knows he shouldn’t touch himself, but he wants to so badly that he has to grip the sheets so his hands don’t fly towards his dick.

You release his jaw and wait patiently for him to respond and after a few seconds he does. “I tried to ignore her, I swear, but she kept coming back every time she saw me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he flinched a little more.

“She works with me-” He started to say but you cut him off.

“And what? You don’t have to be friends because of that.” Your hand went back to his cock, but this time you jerked him off fast and precise, just the way you knew he liked.

Bill pressed his lips together trying not to moan so desperately. His hips jerked upwards on their own even though he tried to control it.

“I’m not a bad girlfriend.” You said as you watched him squirm under your touch. His normally pale skin was now pink and sweaty. “I don’t mind when you purposely flirt with your fans, I mean, they deserve some attention.”

“Please… please let me-” The sentence dies in his mouth as you do an especially quick up and down motion a few more times before pulling your hand away from his cock.

Bill whimpers in frustration and need. You smile as his cock twitches and his legs shake involuntarily.

Even though he hasn’t managed to cum yet, he feels on edge, so stimulated that he would do anything to get his release.

“Do you really think you can cum after what you did?” You knew Bill was too kind to ignore anyone, but he had promised and still broke a promise.

You were furious when you saw him talking to her. Smiling as she threw herself on him. You never liked the way she looked at him. As if she didn't care that he was taken, as if she could have a chance with him.

"Please forgive me. I swear I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it." Bill sounded like a criminal desperate to be absolved of his crime.

He leaned towards you, pleading eyes staring at your lips. He had always been sensitive to touch and you could only imagine how needy he was right now.

“Did I say you could move?” You grabbed him by the neck, pulling him back into his place.

“I’m sorry.”

Completely ignoring his apology you asked. “Are you really sorry or do you just want me to touch you?”

The hand that was on his neck moved down his torso, caressing the sweaty and sensitive skin.

“N-no, I’m really sorry.” Bill stammered as he watched your hand slowly move down his body, but away from where he really wanted you to touch.

“So if I left you here alone like this you wouldn’t care?” You could almost see the gears in his mind working to find the right answer.

“Please don’t…touch me, please.” He was close to begging desperately over and over if that was what he needed to do.

You smiled, a mischievous smile before dragging your hand back to his dick.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Bill said again and again. Relieved that you were touching him again.

You snaked your other arm around him to keep him still in place as your hand moved up and down his cock frantically.

Bill threw his head back on your shoulder, moaning and shaking under your touch.

“Please let me-” it was more than clear what he wanted.

“Let it go, my pretty boy.” You whispered sweetly in his ear and smiled as you watched him come undone in your hands.

His once tense body now relaxed against yours. Your hand slowed to a stop.

Bill looked at you smiling, he looked tired as if he had run a marathon. He was ready to cuddle into you, but your hand attacked him again.

Your touch, so skillful and insistent, was guiding him to painful overstimulation. Bill opened his mouth to scream but you pulled him close and silenced him with an eager kiss that was quickly reciprocated.

You couldn't deny that it was intoxicating to have someone so desperate under your touch.

His head was spinning, his eyes rolling back with the mixture of pleasure and pain as his body shook.

He whimpered, looking down at where your hand was incessantly moving up and down his cock.

"Please, liebe, it hurts." He whispered between breathless moans.

"What's wrong, darling? I'm just doing what you asked so desperately." You said with feigned innocence.

He looked like an expensive painting, messy and incredibly pretty. His makeup was completely smeared, his skin flushed and his normally spiky hair was down and sweaty. You could see the drool running down his face as he moaned nonstop.

His body shook violently and you knew he was cumming again even though there was nothing left of him now.

“I can’t… not anymore, please.” He begged, his legs automatically closing.

He didn’t know how many times he had cum, 5? 7? He lost count, his body was on the edge and he felt like he might pass out from so much stimulation.

“Just one more time, honey, now be a good boy and spread your legs.” You said as you brushed away the strands of hair that were stuck to his face.

Even though his body was determined to disobey, Bill obeyed your command in the same instant.

You stroked the head of his cock knowing how sensitive he was. Every sigh and moan that left him was a reward as you moved your hand, the soothing touch doing nothing to really calm him down.

You had no desire to stop, but by the way he was now almost coming apart in your arms you knew you had to. You watched him cum for the last time, shaking and writhing as tears wet his handsome face.

“Shhh, it’s over. You did great, baby.” You whispered to him as you hugged him and kissed the top of his head. You got ready to get up and get him some water and clean up the mess you made, but Bill held you in place.

“Stay here with me, please.” He says in a sleepy voice. His whole body relaxes in your arms now that he knows you’re not mad at him anymore. You just go back to holding him knowing he’ll soon fall asleep in your arms.

[notjustjavierpena]

The Making of Ellie - Part I: Baby-Making

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down. 

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them. 

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets. 

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness. 

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello. 

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too. 

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.” 

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.  

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles. 

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could. 

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips. 

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask. 

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable. 

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter. 

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.” 

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in. 

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.” 

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text. 

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now. 

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues. 

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims. 

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.” 

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal. 

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you. 

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right. 

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right. 

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life. 

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.” 

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved. 

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed. 

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before. 

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become. 

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more. 

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again. 

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.” 

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly. 

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you. 

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy. 

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place. 

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat. 

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come. 

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body. 

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.” 

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil. 

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you. 

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees. 

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms. 

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his. 

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry. 

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back. 

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out. 

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs. 

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.” 

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step. 

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again. 

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it. 

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

.

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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[buttercandy16]

Mine to Covet

(Dark!ReverendMotherJessica x Female!Reader)

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: An unfortunate fate where your lover's mother wants to have you all to herself, and she's willing to do anything.

Warning(s): Dark fanfiction, Smut, Yandere, Dub-Con, etc.

A/N: I do love my yandere. Another anon also asked for a yandere/kidnapping fic and I'll probably write that one next. Also, English is not my first language so please don't come after me due to my grammar. Enjoy!

Gimme me more requests!! Please!

-_-_-

JESSICA’S POV

As a Bene Gesserit, I possess supreme levels of discipline, including complete control over my emotions and urges. So how is it that I can feel my blood boil in anger and taste the bitterness of envy violate my tongue as I watch my own son woo the woman he claims as his? Why do I feel the strong urge to cut off his hand the moment it touched yours?

At first, I was confused by this foreign feeling, so I grew angry with myself. I didn’t understand what it was.

It first occurred when Paul, my only son, introduced you to me. A Fremen girl he has grown to fancy. I remembered how he gushed over you, clearly seeking his mother’s approval, my approval. But no words from his lips reached my interest for I had my focus solely on the divine creature presented to me. With a barely concealed amusement, I observed your fidgeting form battling the urge to look me straight in the eyes, it was clear to me that you were nervous, the reason may be from knowing that I am the Reverend Mother or maybe because it is I who birthed the Lisan al Gaib or simply because I am Paul’s mother, it mattered not to me. What mattered was the pleasant feeling that I get from your presence alone. Such a strange girl… However, my amusement ended swiftly when Paul held your hand in his. My breath hitched and my once relaxed hand turned to a fist as my vision started to bleed red.

What is happening to me?! Why do I feel this way?! I remembered muttering inside my head. I felt as if I was no longer in control of my own body. Fear clawed against my skin and with great haste, I silently spoke the litany of fear to calm myself. Careful not to expose the battle within to anyone present. Unfortunately, I find myself feeling the same way right now.

Not long after realization struck me like a ton of bricks. The dreadful realization that I simply covet you…the girl whom my son is in love with. I want you as much as he does… maybe even more so.

I blame my late Duke’s death for having these thoughts. Perhaps it is caused by the sudden loss of the man I loved that pushed me into having these strong urges towards you. Maybe I see him in you and I'm feeling lonely. Or maybe I’m just truly damaged and deranged that my head is now filled with such corrupted thoughts. I am desiring something or rather someone I can’t have.

But you will have her… she is yours… the voices in my head whisper.

“No, she’s with Paul… She belongs to my son,” I whisper back as I look at you longingly while hiding in the shadows.

She belongs to no one else but yours… Yours to love… yours to keep… yours to defile… yours to consume…

“Stop it… You have no idea what you’re saying. I cannot hurt Paul like that,” I weakly argue back as my eyes start to water with tears. I love my son dearly and because of that, I will fight hard against the voices… against my feelings. But deep inside I know I’m fighting a losing battle… I know that I have already lost.

_-_-_

Time passed and bit by bit my resolve crumbled and the thoughts of my son turned into nothing. Now, all I can think of is you… and the millions of other ways I can have you.

She is yours…

Claim her…

She is yours…

Claim her….

Eyes dark with lust and pure deranged obsession I look at you once more while hidden in the shadows as I whisper to myself, “She is mine and I will claim her.”

-_-_-

Y/N POV

"You're so beautiful, " Paul whispered in my ear, making me smile.

We've been sitting out here for some time now. Watching as the sun sets for the night.

"We better go inside, Paul. It's no longer safe to stay out at this hour"

Paul nodded in agreement before he pulled me up with him and we started to walk inside.

"Oh, I almost forgot. My mother wants to see you," I stopped when I heard what he said.

"Why?" I asked, trying to remain calm as much as possible.

Truth be told. Paul's mother, the Reverend Mother, scares me. She’s a Bene Gesserit, she walks in the shadows. No one truly knows what goes on in her mind. All I know is there’s something strong about her presence, but something that felt forbidden and so wrong. She is beautiful as much as she’s dangerous.

In simple terms, I don’t trust her.

"Don't worry, she just wants to talk," he gave me a reassuring smile before leaving me in front of the Reverend Mother's tent.

After taking a deep breath I made my presence known by going inside. My eyes wandered all over the unique decor of the Reverend Mother’s tent until it settled on the middle where there’s a small table with two cups filled with some kind of tea.

“Hello little one,” a sultry voice whispered suddenly into my ear, breaking me out of my thoughts and making me turn to see the Reverend Mother invading my personal space so sensually from behind.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she continued with a chuckle.

“No need to ask for forgiveness, Reverend Mother. You didn’t” I lied, trying to remain calm as I felt my cheeks heat up from our proximity. “Paul said that you asked to see me.”

“I did,” Her eyes were on me, filled with intent that I failed to decipher. She brushed her fingertips across my shoulder, causing goosebumps to run along my skin before she motioned for me to sit on the carpeted ground right next to the small table.

After I complied she walked towards me and immediately joined me by sitting close to my side, our clothed thighs lightly brushing against each other.

“Have some tea, I have it specially prepared for us,” she said while gesturing for me to take it, there's a challenging glint in her eyes, daring me to refuse.

With no intention to displease my lover’s mother, I complied and took a little sip. The moment it met my tongue I was surprised to find it very cooling.

“This is good”

“Yes, simple but very soothing. But, you must drink deeply for the full effect,” she said with amusement dripping from her voice.

Without any second thoughts, I did what I was told, and the Reverend Mother seemed satisfied with this as I can see it in her smile. Soon I was holding an empty cup. I had drained it and yet, I’m still thirsty.

“Would you like some more?” she asked.

“Y-yes, If it’s not much of a bother, Reverend Mother,” I replied, self-consciously rubbing the fabric over my hips.

“Not at all, and please... Call me Jessica” she replied, her eyes glinting with something dark as she carefully replenished my cup.

 “As you wish, Jessica. May I know why I'm being summoned?” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest as our gazes met before I took a generous sip from my drink. There was something undeniably alluring about her, something that both scared and excited me.

The weight of her eyes on me feels invasive like she could see through my cracks and discover all of my weaknesses. She’s watching me as if I’m her prey.

“You must understand, Y/N, I’m a determined woman. Whenever I have an agenda I’ll make sure to do everything in my power to achieve it. Whatever means necessary.” She muttered, leaning in close to my ear. Her warm breath sent shivers down my spine.

“Did Paul touch you yet?” Her tone was casual with her sudden question, but her eyes were anything but. 

“Wh-what?,” I stuttered, feeling my cheeks flush not believing what I was hearing right now.

“Have you given yourself to my son, sexually?” she leaned in closer to me.

“Uh, n-no,” I stammered, my body trembling like a leaf.

“Are you being truthful with me?” she purred, her fingertips ghosting lightly along my exposed neck. It was such a simple yet surprisingly intimate gesture that it made me feel like the tent suddenly caught fire from how hot it was.

I shakily nodded while she only looked at me with satisfaction.

“Have you taken his gift of water yet? Or yours to him?” she asked, scooting closer. Her smell was intoxicating and it made my head spin.

“N-no…not yet. He wants to wait until we are to be married.”

The Reverend Mother snickered under her breath and continued. “I raised that boy and taught him everything I know so he’ll rise and fulfill his destiny one day. But now, I’m starting to have second thoughts. It seems to me he’s just as weak as his father. A beautiful morsel such as yourself standing so willingly at the palm of his hand and yet he never thought about fully claiming you as his. So sure that you’ll stay right where you are. I guess he never thought about someone stealing you away. Such a huge mistake on his part but a blessing for me.” she said with a wicked grin, her delicate fingers tracing slow circles on my forearm as if she were teasing me.

But before I could respond, I noticed that the tent was becoming increasingly warm. Worse, I was finding my body uncomfortably warm. My face was becoming flushed and I was panting. My suit was becoming very confining. How odd, I thought. I grew up wearing this suit, but now I desire nothing more than to get them off.

My eyes landed on my now empty cup next to the Reverend Mother’s. That’s when I realized that she’d never touched her cup, not even a single drop.

She followed my gaze to her cup before catching mine. Slightly tilting her head, she then smiled knowingly.

“I-I need to leave” I croaked back, fear creeping into my bones as alarm bells started ringing in my head. 

But when I was about to stand up, I was immediately met with a sudden dizziness making me sit back down ungracefully.

It felt like my innards were being replaced by some kind of emptiness. I tried to stand again, desperate to leave the tent. I swayed just for a moment before the Reverend Mother caught me and pushed me down with my back against the carpet, a soft gasp of surprise leaving my lips.

She didn’t waste any time as she got on top of me and pinned my hands above my head in a tight grip, sharp nails digging against my skin but not breaking.

The Reverend Mother’s face was close to mine as she intently stared into my fear-filled eyes.

“Oh, no little girl. You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered above me.

Her face was blank from any emotion, but her eyes said it all.

“Did you poison me?” I whimpered. Her grip on my wrist tightened more than before, making me yelp in pain as she cut off the circulation of my blood.

“Of course not, I would never harm you without reason. Only to ensure your utmost obedience. The tea is for making you more pliant, not to kill.” she purred, leaning in close enough that our lips almost brushed. Her warm breath mingled with mine.

“What do y-you want from me?” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

She smiled maliciously at me before she started speaking.

“Isn’t it obvious, dear one? I want you.” one of her hands left my wrist and slowly traced my face with her fingers before she continued, “From the moment we met I already felt a certain pull towards you. I didn’t fully realize what it was until much later. Deep down I know you feel the same. That’s the reason why you went with Paul so that you could be closer to me.”

She’s starting to sound and look very much deranged. To my complete horror, she seems to believe her words to be true.

No…This can’t be happening. Paul… I’m with Paul!

I shook my head no but that was not what she was looking for. I yelped in pain from the sudden sting of her slap against my now-reddened cheek.

“Do not lie to me.” Her tone was assertive as she spoke every word.

“I’m not.” I cried weakly.

Another slap and tears started to run down my cheeks.

She leaned down and her warm wet tongue immediately tasted my despair with delight written all over her face. 

“I don’t like hurting you. But know that I will when I deem it necessary. So you better give me the answer that I want, little girl. Don’t test my patience. Try again.”

I only shook my head once more, refusing to back down. This made her chuckle

”Such a stubborn girl. I’ll enjoy breaking and reshaping you into my good little girl.” she whispered next to my ear.

Is she for real? My mouth fell open as I struggled to say anything. Suddenly I heard footsteps outside the tent.

“Mother, is Y/N still with you?”

Hearing Paul’s voice almost made me tear up with joy thinking that this would all come to an end. But when I looked at the Reverend Mother it seemed like I was dead wrong. Instead of seeing a look of panic, she gave me a wicked grin.

“She is… come inside, my son. I want to show you something.”

Paul entered the tent and suddenly froze where he stood when his eyes landed on us. The woman he sires pinned underneath his own mother’s body.

“Wh-what is going on here?” Paul asked as he looked at us confused.

“Paul, help me, please. Your mother has lost her mind” I pleaded as he went closer.

“Mother! Get off her ri–”

“SILENCE!” Paul’s words were cut off as I saw his mouth shut in command. His eyes were immediately filled with betrayal and hurt when he realized that his mother used the voice on him. But his mother did not care at all, “Kneel and do not move” she commanded his son once more.

I looked at her as if she lost her mind. Perhaps she did.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, little one. For it is you who made me this way” she leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried to jerk away but couldn’t. The kiss practically seared my skin like molten lava.

She pulled a dagger from under her robes and then turned towards his son, a slave to her command.

“You know very well that I love you, Paul. But unfortunately for you, my love for Y/N weighs more heavy. I won’t let you have her. She is mine…only mine. And you will watch as I claim her.” her attention then went back to me as she sliced through my stillsuit and garments beneath it. I am now completely naked to her eyes. 

My head turned to Paul and saw the same panic set in his eyes. We were both sobbing and fearful of what was to come.

She laughed maliciously and roughly gripped my chin to look at her.

“Open your mouth” my breath hitched as I felt her voice crawl its way into my head. Not a second passed and my mouth opened.

“Take the gift of my water and you shall become one with me. Take it and you will be mine…forever.” she whispered before spitting into my mouth, “Swallow” she commanded before her lips descended against mine.

Her kiss was violent, forcing her tongue past my gritted teeth.

The tongue quickly found its way around my mouth and explored every inch. In parallel to that, her hands moved around and groped my breast. She slightly massaged them and pinched the erected nipples. It was not that the events aroused me. It was the cold that made my body like that. 

The kiss ended after a while, me being out of the air while the older woman was looking crazier than before. She licked her lips another time before stripping her garments away. She moved and kneeled in front of my face, her warmth being right on top of my face. "Pleasure me, little one." She commanded using the voice commanding voice and I immediately complied.

"Yes!" She started to move her body up and down, making her juice splash on my face. "Now, get that tongue of yours at work, beautiful girl," She ordered and once again tightened the grip, forcing me to obey her order. 

I had to stick my tongue forward, forced to have a taste of the older woman. It was sweet and I couldn't stop myself from moaning from the taste of her. She also moaned at the feeling of my tongue inside her and moved faster until she cummed in my mouth. 

Just as I was about to let go of a sigh, my left leg was lifted, Jessica’s right leg sliding under it. "It is not the end yet! I still have a lot of things I want to teach your body." She pushed her hip forward, making our center meet. 

I can't help but admit that it started to feel so good, so good that I failed to notice that I was no longer under the influence of the voice.

She repeated to thrush several more times, bringing our center together and making them part, and then collide again. She started to moan once again as I did the same, her hands starting to play with my breast, enjoying every contact through my body. Until my first orgasm was ripped from me this evening, followed by the beautiful temptress who laid on top of me while catching her breath from her release. 

She looked down at me in complete amusement as I lay helplessly underneath her. 

Jessica kissed the tip of my nose before sliding her warm body over me. She then began to touch me once more, and that was when I started to squirm a little. She moved her arms around my body, rubbing it in a very erotic way. "So beautiful! I can't help but masturbate thinking about you every day. And now, you are finally mine." She put a hand on my knee and began to gently stroke my leg.

Oh no... please no more...

"P--please... I can't. It's too much" 

I struggled as I tried to pull myself away from her, but my body is still weak from the drugged tea and pleasure.

"Shhhh... I know you can. Just give me one more, little one. I just need to taste you." 

She settled herself in between my legs, parting them by force. 

She reached between my legs and pushed something. It's her finger against my clit, causing my back to arch. "Oh!" I gasped, head falling back. "Oh, oh—" 

Jessica cupped my left breast and mouthed at it, kissing and licking. I didn't know where to look but into her eyes, trying my best not to follow the sound of a silently sobbing man. 

I'm not sure what possessed me at the moment but I was suddenly desperate to taste her lips. 

"Kiss me," I begged. "Please..." 

And she did. Soft and sweet, holding me to her. Tugging my lip with her teeth and stroking my back, my butt. She took hold of my legs, cupping the underside of my knees. Bringing my legs around her waist, she rocked against me, teasing my lip with her tongue. 

I parted my lips for her, tasting her, sighing... Jolting when she tugged on my nipple. "Oh, ow, owie—, please don't—" 

I cried out with pleasure. This was so nice; it felt so good. 

She smiled at me. “You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, my beloved,” she said, reaching to touch me, pulling back the hood of my clit so she could rub me with her thumb. I shivered. “Look at this tiny clit. So fucking adorable, and all mine…” 

She proceeded to slide down my body until she was face to face with my dripping warmth. 

I gasped when she started to lick me and felt my stomach twitch, surprised and excited at Reverend Mother’s eagerness to please me. I felt her tongue trace the outline of my lower lips and shuddered. A moment later, the older woman finally slid her tongue over my clit, and that's when I felt my walls clenching in a sudden spasm, screaming in pure pleasure for the second time. Due to the intensity, I blacked out.

-_-_-

A groan left my lips when I woke up, my body deliciously sore. 

Slightly stretching, that's when I realized that I was not alone.

To my left, Paul stood looking down at me. Tears stained his cheeks, eyes full of hatred.

“P-paul… I–”

“Silence! I don’t need your excuse. You and I are over” Paul spits his words with so much anger that it hurts.

“But Paul, it was your mother’s doing… I didn’t wa–”

“SILENCE”

The command surprised me into shock. Having the Reverend Mother use the voice on me seems to hurt less than having Paul do the same thing.

“You will not speak ill of the Reverend Mother. For she is the mother of your people’s chosen and now… your intended... for you two are fully bonded as one”

Paul’s words confused me greatly. Why would he say such a thing after everything his mother did in front of him? But my thoughts were then silenced when I saw a pair of hands rest on his shoulders. The Reverend Mother’s face appeared next to his.

“That’s enough, my son. I think my beloved has heard enough. You may take your leave” she calmly whispered.

Paul did what his mother asked but not before sparing me one last glance and whispered under his breath… I’m sorry… and now completely leaving me alone with a predator hungry for my flesh.

“What have you done to him?! Did you use your voice?!” I yelled accusingly, but she only laughed at this before kneeling beside my vulnerable form.

“No, Paul is simply being a good son. I raised him well, he knows to never go against my will. I brought him into this world and gave him his birthright, he owes me as much.” She smiled devilishly.

She looked down at me with a predatory grin before slowly tilting my chin with her finger to meet her eyes. 

It was so dark and full of lust that it felt like I was about to drown in it. 

"So here's what will happen from now on, you better listen carefully because everything that is attached to your existence will be at play if I don't get what I want, understood?" I weakly nodded, no longer having the will to fight back. 

"Good girl" Jessica praised before caressing my cheek. 

"You will surrender yourself to me and in time I know that you will so willingly. The more you take the gift of my water, the stronger our bond grows. In the meantime, you will be my obedient darling girl. Whatever I say, goes. Understood?" Her grip on my chin tightened, emphasizing how serious she was. 

"Ye-yes" I stuttered through gritted teeth. 

"If you behave like a good little girl for me, I will reward you with anything you desire, but if you disobey... You will learn that I won't go easy on my punishment. Since that's all settled then, time to quench my thirst." 

"W-with what?" I fearfully asked. 

The Reverend Mother smiled at me before leaning in close, her lips almost touching mine. 

"You."

[sloppysequinz]

Not the Step-Alcoholic, but the Alcoholic who Stepped Up - Part 1

Notice: This one includes some kinks I don't normally write, so be warned. Also, it's really long and only the first of at least two parts. I'm writing this for ME.

Normally I try to write write gender neutral leads but this one is explicitly a cis woman, just so you know.

cw: fauxcest, alcoholism, piss

You and your dad had never been close. He was always kind of a distant asshole, and when your parents got divorced shortly after you left for college it was more of a relief than anything.

You would never begrudge your beloved mother's choice to leave on a world tour after that. You talked on the phone for a couple of hours before she left. She'd spent 20 years feeling pinned down and trapped, and she was making up for lost time.

You absolutely DID begrudge your father's decision to begin dating immediately after the papers were finalized. In fact, you weren't sure he waited. The girlfriend who started popping up in his facebook posts seemed way too close to him to have only been seeing each other a few weeks. This hunch of yours was backed up when your father married her before your second semester was up.

You didn't hate Angelina, or Lina as she insisted everyone call her. You hated the idea of her. Your father had managed to land a bubbly, busty younger woman, making himself a mid-life crisis stereotype. And she was appallingly young: not quite your age, but 20 years younger than your mother, so only 10 years older than you. And she was always, always drunk.

Not in a way that was extremely obvious, usually. She wasn't a stumbling, drooling, wreck. But you could tell. You could smell the booze every time she threw her arms around you. Whenever you had to spend time with her, she would gradually get louder and more flushed no matter what you were doing--she had a water bottle she liked to carry that you suspected did not contain water. But every so often, she would go overboard in a truly spectacular way. At Lina and your father's wedding, there had been an open bar at the reception. They didn't check IDs, so you had made generous use of it, but you had nothing on Lina.

For one thing, she wasn't sober when the reception started. Her extravagant bridal suite provided champagne, and she'd had a glass in hand the whole four hours she and her bridesmaids (including you) got ready. By the time the ceremony started, she was flushed and giggling, but that was easily passed off as bridal joy. Her water bottle had appeared during the photos. By the time you walked into the reception dinner, you could tell she was only walking straight by leaning against your father, who hardly looked upset to have a sloshed woman in a low cut white dress pressing her tits into his arm.

Then things really started. Celebratory champagne toasts to begin, then wine with dinner, then the dancing started and the bar opened. You managed to fade into the background with a gin and tonic in hand and enjoy getting tipsy by yourself in the corner while the adults lost control, stealing back into the crowd only when you needed a refill. Lina's friends ordered round after round of celebratory shots. Lina, slurring and leaning over the bar so far her tits practically fell out of her dress, had asked the bartender to make her a long island iced tea. She had been so impressed with the result that she ordered three more in quick succession, yelling her order louder each time. After the second one, she was grinding on your father on the dance floor like a slut. She missed the third one and knocked it onto the bar, your father had to grab the fourth one and hand it to her to make sure she had a grip on it. You'd never seen a woman behave like this in public.

Then Lina found you. "SHWEEEETIE!!" she had crooned, spotting you in your corner. She tottered and wove over to you, heels clacking unevenly across the floor. She collapsed into the chair next to you, drink in hand. Her sleeveless, short white reception dress had ridden up so you could see the edges her matching white panties. Her tits were practically jiggling over the neckline, though you thought that might be by design. There was a little bit of drool going from her chin onto her tits. She grabbed your hand clumsily and leaned in to land a wet, sloppy kiss on your cheek. She absolutely reeked of booze. She was grinning like a lunatic.

"Youuuuuu shhouldz. Call me mmom now!!" she giggled, swinging your joined hands around. You managed to stop her from knocking over your glass before dropping her hand.

"I already have a mom." you replied coldly. You wanted to get up and walk away, but you suspected she'd just follow you. You figured if she was this drunk, it would only be a few minutes before she got distracted or passed out. You would just have to suffer through it. You took a sip of your drink and prepared to ignore her. That proved impossible.

"Zheennnn calls me mommyyyyyy!!!" she cried, and threw her legs over your lap, startling you. "Yous dontsh have mommyyy do you?" With her legs sprawled over you, you could see her panties in their entirety. There was a wet spot on the white satin over her crotch. You shivered.

This was what you hated about Lina most of all. She was frighteningly, devastatingly hot. You hated that you must have inherited your taste from your dad. Everything about her made you dizzy with horniness. Her soft, thick, creamy thighs that you could now tell framed an obviously fat and unshaven cunt, dripping wet from being drunk. Her enormous, bouncing, soft tits, too soft to be augmented, just a freak of genetics. The way her ass jiggled when she walked. Her soft eyes, her long hair, her perfectly painted nails--even her drunkenness. The first time you had realized just how drunk she was, and how often, your panties had flooded. Now, with her fuckwasted slurring drunk in your lap and three gin and tonics in your belly, you were sure there was a wet spot on your panties to match hers. You had to focus, you needed out of the situation.

"I'm not a kid, Lina," you replied. You touched her thigh to try and push her legs off you, but she just whined in a way that made you freeze and pull your hand away. She smiled lazily at this.

"Ohhhhh I knowww shweetie." She replied. "You're...a...a womanz for szhure." She ran her hand over your belly and around your waist. Her clumsy touch lit a fire in your cunt. This was really, really bad, but you couldn't think of a way to leave without causing a scene. "Whant schome?" Lina asked you, holding out her drink and waggling it at you. You took the glass from her hand so she wouldn't drop it, then took a polite sip before setting it on the table. It was stronger than you expected and you grimaced, which made her laugh.

"How do you drink that stuff?" You asked. "It's vile."

"I shink itszz DELICIOUS~!" she replied. "But..." she giggled and waved you in closer, as though she wanted to share a secret. You obliged and leaned towards her. "...I fucckinnnn... looooooooves zhe tasts of boooooooze." She was trying and failing to stage whisper, but there was no one around you. She giggled and continued. "Zhe taaaste makesh me.....hornyyyy." she managed to actually whisper that last word before erupting into laughter, her soft thighs shaking against you. You could barely resist running your hands up them. She probably wouldn't remember if you did...but no good risking it.

"Scpeaknig of boooooze..." she reached for her glass, but clearly she was having a hard time. She missed by a mile. "Whooopsh!" she yelled, then laughed. "Schweetieeee when did you put thrreee glasses there?!" she asked, then laughed uproariously.

This was so funny to her that she collapsed backwards onto the next chair giggling furiously. Her barely contained tits popped out of her dress. They were even more beautiful than you had imagined, with tight pink areolas and enormous nipples. She didn't seem to notice they were on display. She slowly, clumsily, laboriously pulled herself back into a seated position using the chair and tables for support, finally and mercifully pulling her thighs out of your lap. She reached for the glass again, and missed again. It didn't seem she found it funny this time.

"Helpsh...helpsh youur mommy, schweetie?" she slurred, looking at you pitifully.

You did the only thing your horny brain would let you. You grabbed the glass and held the drink to her mouth. After a moment of drunkenly thrusting her face at the glass, her numb lips found the straw and closed around it. She drank deeply and quickly, evidently determined to finish the whole drink in one go. Her eyes went crossed as she swallowed and swallowed. As you watched your wasted drunk new 'mommy' chug booze from a straw, lips pursed and glazed eyes crossed at the effort, massive tits out and dangling in front of you, panties on display, determined to get even drunker than she already was, the bottom of your stomach tightened into a knot. It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen, and you hated that.

When the glass was finally empty, she pulled away, stared into space for a moment, then dropped her face onto the table. She grabbed her own tits and began squeezing them almost absentmindedly. "Dhazz fuggin gooooood...." she moaned, tweaking her own nipples. "Fugggg...." she trailed off into silence. Her glazed drunk eyes fluttered shut. Even with her thighs out of your lap, you could still see her panties clearly. Her legs were splayed wide and her dress was now just a ring of white fabric around her waist. As you watched, a stream of piss appeared from out of her already stained white panties, filling up the seat and running down her legs. She groaned as she pissed and squeezed her tits tighter, eyes still shut. You took that as your cue to leave.

On your way out of the reception, you managed to grab a bottle of gin from the bar while the bartender was distracted by Lina's drunk friends. You drank directly from the bottle as you walked. It was a quarter gone by the time you got back to your room, which you blessedly had to yourself. As soon as the door was shut behind you, you turned up the gin bottle and chugged. You didn't bother to get undressed, just popped your tits out of your dress and started squeezing. You knelt on the floor in the entryway and frantically pulled up your skirt to slip a hand into your panties, rubbing your soaking wet cunt and pinching your nipples as the booze hit you in a rush. You paused touching yourself only to desperately chug more booze. When the bottle was 3/4 gone, your brain was melted and you began slurring to yourself.

"Mommy....fugggg....mommy gonna....wanna cum, wanna.....make mommy cum....."

The image of your father's wife, passed out blackout drunk with her tits out in a puddle of her own piss was burned into your mind. It made your pussy burn, it made your stomach tighten, it made you desperate for a drink. And alone in your room, you gave in. You imagined getting her another drink, waking her up to pour it into her mouth, slipping your hands into her piss stained panties and sucking on her tits while she moaned and slurred incomprehensibly, helping her back to your room, staggering into the hotel elevator with her ass and tits out for the world to see, helping her collapse into your bed and plying her with more booze, touching her until she came and pissed the bed, guiding her numb drunk hands to your tits and cunt as she hovered on the edge of consciousness....

You came harder than you ever had in your fucking life. And you hated it.

[thy-valhallen]

Batfam Voices as Instruments

Batfam voices as instruments bc i think of things very musically and it struck me others don't

Bruce: bass guitar. he's low and deep and when he speaks, you feel it in your eardrums, straight into your jaw. his words are like injections into your skull, feel intense and impossible to ignore-- but he has softer moments, too. quiet, gentle plucking of strings, the careful, slow strums of a man who plays only for the ears who will know what the notes will mean

Alfred: viola. slightly deeper than a violin, but mostly just warmer. a voice you hear and want to hum along to, a voice that sits in your ears before it sinks into your chest. it's gentle and sways with grace across strings and notes, it plays a harmony that supports and compliments, that is a steady through-line for everything that surrounds it

Dick: trumpet. brassy and loud and present and fuck do you KNOW when he's in the room. he's so bright and warm and MEANT to be heard. you hear him in your heart, every time he speaks, feel it deep in every vein like he's writing gospel into your DNA. and usually it's jazzy, it's excitement and riffs and improv and leaping off the page and doing cartwheels across a music staff-- but he's just as capable of whispersoft confessions of heartbreak and loss in D minor, can let loose a lament of all he's lost in an elegy of epic proportions

Barbara: harp. a challenging instrument to understand and play, and one she plays with ease. she is plucking strings with careful fingertips, strums across them all with a single hand. she's a melody that glides past your ears, a song that doesn't sink in-- if you're not paying attention to the hooks that latch into your brain. she is careful compositions and sweeping songs arranged for each audience with care. yet when she feels wrath, she shreds herself to make sure you feel it-- she takes scissors to her own strings to cut deeper than the song could alone

Jason: cello. deep and contemplative, with a sort of vibration that bites into your bones from the moment he opens his mouth. waxing poetic is his native tone, and it sounds like a bow dancing across strings and fingers traversing the frets like they were made for it, a soothing melody that could be a lullaby. when fury comes, the sound alone is so sharp where it's settled into your joints that you can't fight back; it's vicious strokes across the strings that shred the bow's hairs without care, wrath in every pull like it's a sword. he can settle into the orchestra or he can sweep them all offstage to stand alone against the conductor that dared to direct him

Cass: marimba. light and soft and so very deliberate. all those bars close together, and each hit with precision, because when Cass speaks, each sound and syllable is effort and choice and control. she is range and gentle dancing note to note and a sound that settles on your skin like a gentle rain, clinging and soft and so very present. to hear it is to hear if a storm could sing and serenaded the sky it calls home. she is echoing in an empty room until she fills it herself (i think of this specifically)

Tim: piano. it's all about the force put into it-- he can be the most careful, calculated guy in the room, playing with all the rigor and rigid professionalism of a NY Symphonic pianist. but the real Tim is the one who's fingers flutter playfully over the keys, who's voice cracks from laughter and sleep deprivation and stress, who trembles between octaves as his fingers tire but makes the leap anyway. he is clear ringing notes in a crowded room and rambling words like a glissando back and forth across the ivories, he is a song quiet enough to fall to the background but a complex and delicate tune if you care to listen

Steph: drum kit. she is all intensity and living in the moment and sharp impacts and a beat that never stops, never waits for the rest. she can get lost to the rest of the voices in a room, but you'll never shake that she's in your head, that her voice is there and present and presses against the base of your skull like it wants to worm straight in. she's rhythm and motion and changing things up just to do it; her voice hops from the snares to the bass to the snares and back to bass and never lets you think between notes, she's moving so fast, because it's all her, nothing she ever has to question, even if she makes you question with every slam on the cymbal

Damian: violin. he is careful in his every motion, ever meticulous with all he does; he lives in fear of being out of tune, of off-key notes for a long time, and so each one is practiced and known to the point of monotony. but over time, he thaws and the notes become more loose, more free-- he speaks less like his eyes are glued to the page, furiously tracking each note he'll play and more like the natural he is-- he becomes sharper in a different way than the rest of him, notes out of place that jut from the rest and it's okay that they do, a hum of songs that don't follow classic melodies and don't feel the need to. don't mistake it though-- his voice has always been as regal and pointed as the rest of him was raised to be, and his voice grabs both your ear and your eyes, dragging you to look at him, for him to be seen and noticed and given attention

Duke: saxophone. he is deep and rich and resonating. his voice is emotion and expression and honesty. his voice sits on your tongue because hearing him makes you want to speak, want to talk and chat and ramble with him, to reply to his melody with any harmony to match. he is a voice meant to be heard by many, who may not stand out in a room naturally but makes himself stand out by the passion in his voice. he is a slow, experimental hand that plays notes with hesitance until the rhythm hits him and suddenly, it's a melody of energy and power and a presence that he doesn't even know he has

[terresdebrume]

Back in late September I made a poll to know what fic I should work on, completely forgetting I was about to run headfirst into the end of year rut (plus moving plus other life projects) so I ended up predictably writing nothing of substance aside from a quick snippet in an AU that has cool aesthetic but not enough foundation to stand on its legs -_-

So, as a way to finally start working on the most popular option from that poll (aka: the one where a Catland kiss is the spark that gets Payneland started) I'm going to just write and post the first draft on Tumblr and then I'll clean it up into a more proper story for AO3. @kepodewers you asked to be tagged in case that happened so watch this space (unless you want to wait for the polished version). This is based on this prompt from @stinastar which I got somewhere around forever ago^^" I'm very sorry about the delay and the rushed format, I hope it satisfies anyway! Fair warning: it starts out pretty angsty.

ETA: Important note: Like all my first drafts this is going to be posted in several snippets! I'll be making separate posts for each I think, unless the overwhelming consensus is that people would rather have a chain of reblogs

Edwin falls through the floor.

He hasn't lost control of his corporeality since his first week back on Earth and never that badly. The thought of it would be mortifying any other day, but not today. Today, it is a relief. Today, Edwin's entire being is intent on denying his death harder than it ever has before. Blood pulses in his ears as he finally comes to a stop in the basement of their building, tears burn in his eyes and in his throat, and his heart claws at the inside of his ribs with the ferocity of a hell hound. Half-blind with tears, Edwin pulls his right foot out of the ground, spins around, and rushes to the staircase as soon as he spots it.

His feet clatter up the steps, the door bangs in his wake, and when he bursts through the front door he cannot even manage to avoid running straight through Crystal. She calls out his name and Edwin slows down, trying to decide if he can stand to speak to anyone right now—

"Edwin!"

Edwin turns around just in time to see Charles phase through the door, through Crystal—continue without even apologizing to her—and then... And then his feet turn around again, carry him across the street and into the little park there, Charles' footsteps thundering after him.

"Edwin, wait!"

Edwin ignores Charles' pleading tone. He has never done that before. Not for a case, not for a reward, not even to preserve his own existence. Nothing could have forced him to ignore Charles then, no amount of danger, no amount of torture, no amount of pain. Except, it seems, if Charles himself were the source of Edwin's distress.

"Leave me alone!" Edwin yells over his shoulder, harsher than he meant but unable to stop and soften his voice.

Charles hasn't caught up with him, Edwin knows that. He is the much faster runner of the two, especially with the novelty of needing more distance from Charles than ever before. Perhaps it is that knowledge that stops him in his tracks when he hears Charles gasp.

"Edwin," Charles tries again, but Edwin shakes his head, ignoring the jogger that goes through him with a disgruntled shiver.

"Charles, please," he pleads, "please leave me alone. I can't—"

"Edwin, please, talk to me," Charles begs.

He is standing in the middle of the street, hands up as if to calm down a distressed client. He looks so genuinely distraught, so sincerely hurt, that Edwin feels bad for the way he is acting. He wishes he could be a better person. Wishes he could be a better friend. Yet, when he tries to speak his voice comes out cold and cutting in a way he never thought he could have used against Charles.

"I fail to see what there is to say. You made it quite clear before that you were uninterested in what I had to offer. It is hardly my place to be upset about where they lay instead!"

"But you are upset," Charles replies, and the lack of denial feels like a knife going right through Edwin's chest.

"Well, Charles," he says, a sob clinging to the cold fury that laces his voice, "I think you might be able to understand why I am."

"Look, Edwin, Thomas—"

"'Thomas'?" Edwin exclaims, anger and hurt dragging his voice down, making Charles flinch. "Thom—what happened to 'That Cat King'? What happened to 'Whiskers'?"

"Edwin—"

"You know, it is your right to move on," Edwin says, pressing his hands together so hard he is half afraid to damage his nonexistent gloves. "I understand that my feelings do not entitle me to your affections, but I would have thought you would at least have had the courtesy to let me know you had figured 'the rest' out! I would have thought you would at least told me so I didn't have to find out like this!"

Edwin closes his eyes, half to avoid the look of hurt mixed with almost fear on Charles' face, half to catch the flood of tears threatening to spill on his face as he remembers. Coming through the mirror. Looking around for Charles, so eager to show him the new book he acquired. Finding him sitting on their sofa, with his hands on the Cat King's hip, his head tilted back, the long column of his throat all but offered up to the other man as he cradled Charles' face in his hands and kissed him with exactly the sort of tenderness Edwin would endure another seventy years of Hell to give Charles.

"Please," Edwin repeats, "leave me alone. At least for now."

And Charles, silent and pale, nods and turns around, and leaves Edwin alone.

[keanusbabydoll]

Please write more michael myers pics ♥️ I’m totally drooling 🤤

a/n: you ask and you shall receive!! here’s another request for our hot oldman!myers😏

paring: peepaw!myers x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, violence, murder, michael’s a warning himself, slightest degrading, spanking, rough sex, no foreplay, HUGE age gap, p in v, unprotected sex, use of y/n

wordcount: 2.4k

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in the quiet town of haddonfield, an unusual relationship unfolded between an infamous figure and a young woman who saw something different beneath his masked exterior. barely 20 year old y/n had been with michael myers for two years, in what could only be described as a twisted, dangerous kind of romance. despite the violent and cryptic nature that had carved him into a legend of fear, michael was possessive and protective in way that almost made y/n feel safe, cherished. their intimacy was intense, a secret kept tightly locked within the walls of their home, the old myers house.

one evening however, y/n craved the taste if normalcy. she'd been cooped up, living in michael's isolated world, and the memory of a carefree night out with her friends tugged at her heart. tonight, she'd decided she'd indulge. she slipped into a slinky black dress, her curves accentuated perfectly. she knew it was bold and risky, considering michael's possessiveness. yet, he wasn't home and she had no idea when he would return. this gave her just the window she needed. her friends picked her up and soon they were at a club, where the music and the neon lights drowned out any lingering apprehension about her decision.

as the hours wore on, y/n was lost in laughter and dancing, her worries about michael fading. around an hour in, she met a guy named jason. he seemed friendly, he was easy to talk to. they chatted briefly, mostly small talk, but nothing that would've even registered as interesting to her. still, as the night deepened, she started to feel an ache in her legs and feet, a tiredness settling in. it was 2 am. and y/n knew it was time to leave.

she said goodbye to her friends, intending to head home alone.

just as she was about to leave, jason offered to walk her back, but y/n declined. she knew michael’s possessiveness too well—he’d barely tolerate her with another man’s presence, let alone walking her home. but jason was persistent, smiling and saying, “it’s not safe out here for a girl alone at this time.” despite her refusals, he walked alongside her anyway.

as they neared her street, an unsettling tension built inside y/n. she’d sensed something shadowing her steps, a chill that hung in the air. she walked faster, jason following behind her, chatting casually. they were almost at her door when she heard a strange rustle, a weird sound that shouldn’t have been there.

she froze, her breath hitching. slowly, she turned, and the sight made her stomach drop.

michael stood there, his expression unreadable beneath his mask, yet his stance dripped with barely controlled rage. a bloody knife gleamed in his hand, and at his feet lay jason’s lifeless body, blood staining the pavement.

a strangled cry escaped y/n’s lips, and she turned to run. but before she could even make it to the door, michael closed the distance, grabbing her around the neck. she choked, her vision blurring as he tightened his grip, cutting off any attempt to escape. then, with a rough, forceful movement, he threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing at all.

"michael, please,” she gasped, her voice muffled. “it’s not what it looked like, I swear.”

but michael didn’t respond, didn’t even give a hint of mercy in his movements. his grip on her was brutal as he strode into their house, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. he didn’t waste time, heading straight to the kitchen before setting her down roughly on the counter. y/n‘s body trembled, her mind spinning with panic and anticipation as she saw the cold rage flicker in his eyes.

“i didn’t want him to walk me back. I tried to tell him,” she pleaded, her voice breathless.

michael remained silent, his grip digging into her waist as he leaned over her. slowly, almost torturously, he pressed closer, his eyes watching every movement she made, every breath she took. there was something terrifyingly predatory in his gaze, and y/n felt herself trapped in it. he didn’t need words to show his displeasure; the look in his eyes and the tense silence spoke volumes.

“michael…” she tried again, but he cut her off, his fingers hooking under the strap of her dress and ripping it down with a violent pull, the fabric falling away from her skin and landing in a heap on the floor.

a cruel smirk seemed to linger in his gaze as he trailed his hand over her now-bare shoulder. it stopped by her bra which he tore apart, followed by her lace panties and tossed it away.

y/n’s heart pounded, caught between fear and the twisted excitement that only michael could draw out in her. the fact that she sat there completely naked in front of his clothed form made something inside her tingle. she wanted to explain, to tell him that it had been innocent, but his cold gaze told her that he wouldn’t accept any excuses.

before she could even react michael reached around her throat again and pulled her off the counter. he immediately turned her around and pressed her upper body flush against the cold marble, her nipples hardening at the sudden cold. her brows were furrowed in fear, scared that he would do something to her. but when she hear him dropping his knife to the floor and unzipping his suit, relief washed over her.

but suddenly it went all quiet, her heart began to beat faster and faster and adrenaline was pumping through her veins.

smack.

a painful yelp escaped her mouth when she felt a stinging pain on her ass cheek. before she could even fully comprehend it the next hit came down on her already. her body surged forward and her face crunched up in discomfort. she tried to push her body up but michael instantly had his hand on her back, forcing her to stay in place and let his other hand spank her ass again.

he gave five more slaps to each cheek before he felt pleased with his work, the fire red handprints only satisfying him even more. tears were streaming down her face but the arousal that was slowly drenching the insides of her thighs betrayed her. her core was burning with desire and practically begged to be fucked.

she heard michael stepping closer to her and a quiet hum left her mouth when she felt the tip of his cock pressing directly against her soaking entrance. his hands gripped her hips harshly, almost punishing. with a swift move of his hips and his hands pulling her back against him, he entered her with ease til his hips where flush against her ass.

a cracked cry echoed in the room, her eyes were shut in pain. he was stretching her walls to their maximum, it was always painful at first when they had sex. and not to forget his length. she could feel his tip kissing her cervix in an uncomfortable way.

but this time michael wouldn’t wait a minute or two for her to get used to his size. no. she would regret what she did.

he immediately started off with a fast, bruising pace making her whine out. her nails were scraping against the counter, trying to find something to hold on to. "please slow down michael.“ she mewled, voice shaky. michael groaned out, slapping her already bruised ass, signing her that she should shut her mouth and stop complaining.

he let his hips clash rougher and quicker against her ass, here and there slapping her flesh. y/n was seeing stars, his pace too much for her and the stinging pain didn’t help much. yet, michael could make her drunk off his cock with ease. the way his tip always hit her spongy spot with the right force sent intense waves of pleasure through her body and made her almost forget about the pain.

but the force of his hips reminded her that he was still mad at her, pissed off by what he witnessed a few minutes ago. nothing stopped his uncaring pace. when he looked down to where their bodies connected, it made him pound into her heat harder, her pathetic whines now turning into moans that even pornstars would envy.

her nails scratched stronger against the marble and her eyes where tightly closed. slowly she felt the coil in her womb building up, her walls clenching around his thick cock desperately. "i‘m close.“ she squeaked out, the constant stimulation on her spot edging her closer to her release.

michaels grip harshened, digging his short nails into her flesh. "no.“ she could her hear him faintly growl out. it was rare that michal spoke, it only occurred when he was warning her or when she was hurt.

y/n‘s blood almost froze when she heard his deep, raspy voice. it was always a shock for her to hear his voice.

she felt herself getting closer and closer but with the blink of an eye, michael pulled out of her. she mewled out at the sudden emptiness and the denial of her approaching orgasm which was fading away completely. slowly, y/n turned her head to look at him with begging eyes.

he was staring down at her, head tilted and mask off.

"please michael.“ she whispered.

michael surged forward, wrapping his arms around her waist before he pulled her up and pushed her against the nearest wall. he immediately followed her, grabbing her hair, turning her head to face him. "slut.“ he muttered lowly before he smashed his lips against her pulling her into an rough yet furious kiss. she immediately responded, moving her lips in sync with his. without breaking the kiss, michael snaked a hand around her body, pushing her hips back. then, he gripped both her wrist and pulling them behind her back, holding them in place.

in a matter of seconds he entered her again, his pace just as ruthless as before. the new position made him go even deeper, reaching spots that sent shivers down her spine she didn’t even know existed. michael growled shamelessly into their kiss, showing that he enjoyed this.

one hand still held her wrists together, while the other reached around her middle, finding her clit. he rubbed fast circles on it before he pulled away again, sending a punishing slap straight to it. "fuck!“ she screamed into the kiss before she pulled away, breathing in and out heavily. her eyes searched for his and when she finally met them, all she could see was lust, the same lust that gleamed in his eyes when he satisfied his need to kill someone.

loud and sinful moans, cry’s echoed through the room and the sound of skin slapping against each others made y/n‘s brain go all fuzzy. at that point she couldn’t think straight anymore, the only thing on her mind was michael and how good he was fucking her.

again, michael let his fingers glide to her sensitive nub and flicked them rapidly on it. her knees began to buckle at the sudden stimulation, legs completely shaking.

this time she felt her orgasm approaching even faster than before, her walls clamping down on his cock, almost at the peak of her high. michael was on the verge of cumming as well, her clutching walls just adding to his pleasure.

"oh god michael, please let me cum!“ y/n spluttered out, not being able to hold it in any longer. she could feel it, it was almost there, just seconds away, when michael removed his digits once more.

"michael!!“ she cried out, tears of frustration streaming down her cheeks. she needed to cum, the denial was unbearable to take.

his thrusts got more erratic but for sure didn’t slow down, instead they became violently fast, animalistic almost. high pitched moans left y/n‘s lip as she tried to wriggle free from his grip. but michael just gripped her harder.

one more time, michael pressed his fingers to her clit and began to rub. immediately, y/n could feel her high building up in a matter of seconds. "yes! just like t-that.“ she whimpered out, desperate to cum.

michael fucked into her, chasing his own release and when he felt her walls pulsing around her, he gave in, spurting his white seed deep inside of her. a low growl left his mouth, followed by loud, sharp breaths.

michael‘s orgasm just triggered her own and finally he didn’t stop his movements, he kept assaulting her clit and with a last push of his hips y/n released on his cock with an pornographic moan. pure ecstasy rushed through her shaking body, eyes rolling to the back of her skull. he continued to fuck her through her release intensifying her pleasure to its maximum.

her head fell back against his chest, her body completely worn out, barely able to hold herself up anymore.

michael‘s hips finally came to an halt and his digits relieved her pearl. he slowly pulled out of her, making her squeak quietly. he released her wrists and took a step back, glaring down at her writhing form he caused. he almost began to smirk, almost like he was proud of himself to get you in such a state.

she was leaning her head against the wall, her hands flattened on it, trying to support herself. but she was too weak, her legs didn’t have the strength anymore. she slowly sank down to the floor, leaning against the wall. with hazy eyes she looked up to him. he looked so powerful, so intimidating.

she watched him as he pulled his suit up, closing the zip. he stood there for a few seconds, admiring his art. "i’m sorry, michael. i love you.“ she whispered, apologizing again, hoping he would forgive her.

all she got in reply was a head tilt. in situations like these she hated it that michael only talked this rarely.

but then, michael bowed down, reaching her level, before he grabbed her body, lifting her up. he carried her bridal style, slowly making his way up to their shared bedroom. a warm smile spread across her face, snuggling up against his chest. he had a strange way to show his affection, but even little things made y/n‘s warm up.

michael would always care for her. doesn’t matter what happened. something about her made him weak. she was his weakness.

[pixeldistractions]

warnings: adult activities and conversation, pictures should be Tumblr-safe (we’ll see…), spice level 3/5 🌶️🌶️🌶️ 😇

He promised she wouldn’t hate this, so sometimes that meant he carried four jugs of water to fill the tank so she could have a luxurious hot shower. She appreciated that, and she would take care of him in return. She massaged his tired muscles, kneading all that tension, the powerful shoulders and hard-working back, and turned him into putty. Then when he was melted to her satisfaction and dozing off to sleep—she wasn’t quite done with him yet—she traced the shapes of his tattoo, spanning shoulder or shoulder.

“Did it hurt?”

“Heh, yeah. It took forever.”

“Does it still?”

“Not anymore.”

“Wait, though, it’s a compass,” she said. “But what good is a compass that you can’t see?”

He chuckled. “Didn’t think of that. Maybe it’s not for me.”

“Who’s it for then?”

“You’re the only one who sees it, so I guess it’s for you.”

“Are you saying I’m lost?”

“No. Not anymore. You have a compass now.”

She could see the corners of his lips, grinning into the pillow.

“Hmm, that’s very suave, mister.”

“We’re gonna pretend I planned it that way.”

She tugged on his body until he rolled over, so she could straddle his front instead, then she leaned down to kiss him.

The close confines of their camper called for some romantic experimentation, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Jordan thrived on variety and the millions of ways and places he could cherish her body. He spoiled her with it. In the cab of the camper, window covers on, lean the seats way way back. A blanket under the stars, rolled up together into a frenzy. Save the moans for outside, though you might scare the wildlife. That could be fun, too. In the deep woods with only the nocturnal creatures as their witness. Don’t be shy of the owls and raccoons. They don’t care, they’re naked, too. A campfire crackling. Shirts kept on, or loosened, or scrunched up in a tangle. A wool blanket draped over her back and slowly falling off with each rock and sway. November brought a harsh chill to the nights, but they were always too hot together to ever feel the cold.

Or, just as often, inside, in their bed. So they devised some tricks, battery powered fans for noise, a makeshift wall made of pallet scrap, a haphazard door cut and fit from more scraps. It closed and locked; that was all that mattered. A carefully placed toy that would rattle when little feet crept out of bed. Keep it slow and rhythmic, so so sweet. Hush now, only whispers and sighs, muffled passions, bit lips, covered moans. Don’t rock the camper.

Another experiment, one that caused some mixed anxieties but was just as exciting, they’d been talking about skin to skin. Maria had been on her new birth control for a full cycle now. She was sure it was the right one this time. Double, triple checked.

“I want to feel you,” she said, “not a rubber bag.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, very sure,” she said, sliding herself over him, up and down and around him, just waiting for the go-ahead to push him deep inside.

“I’m just saying, the last time I did this, someone got knocked up with twins.”

“I won’t get pregnant. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Wow. Okay. Yes.”

And that was all she needed.

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned.

“I’m gonna need you to last more than two minutes.”

He was already far beyond words, so she got straight to work. She moved herself on him purposefully, hitting all her right spots while keeping it slow and steady, watching his face melt with pleasure, slowing him down and trying her best to beat him to the finish line because this was going to be a race. She would win, but it might be close.

The camper rocked, for sure.

— “boxes and squares #5.1: live the fairytale” (7/10)

previously: Jordan is super careful and Maria is irresponsible

notes: this isn’t just frivolous smut, by the way. (Not that I would ever be above writing such a thing!) We are heading into some important character development in the next piece. Also not meant to be foreboding. She really did double-triple check her birth control this time! It’s like 99% effective or something…

Next -> // 5.1 start // index

[mythicamagic]

Sukuna's Roommate (a Sukuna x reader fic) Chapter Nine

The rent is cheap, that's the only reason you're moving into apartment 167 on such short notice. The rent is cheap, you remind yourself again, staring up at the four-armed monster you would be living with. (Female reader x Sukuna) Roommate AU.

Warnings: some dubcon moments and general Sukuna stuff i.e: murder. 

This chapter features smut.

Chapter One: link Ao3 here: link

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AN: Sorry for the long wait, been busy at university. This is the usual self indulgent schlock, but I'm sorry if its more messily written than usual ^^

oh and I should probably mention beforehand that no matter what Sukuna and MC get up to, she won't get pregnant. I'm not interested in writing that despite some of things mentioned here possibly being misconstrued as symptoms.

@my-anime-garden (because you mentioned you wanted to be tagged)

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~ Chapter Nine ~

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It was difficult not to feel overwhelmed in Sukuna’s presence. His skin felt blisteringly hot to the touch, warmed by the lapping steam from the hot springs. That molten flesh was everywhere. On me, under me, in me.

Despite my best intentions, I was only human. I gave myself up to control in much the same way I always had- and loathed the reaction. If I were braver, daring, perhaps I could command his attention more firmly. Admittedly, Sukuna probably wasn't the man to test out any newfound desires of domination or control at that moment.

I felt my head be tugged back- a hand gripping my hair tight. Another mouth occupied my own after just a moment. I’d never been involved in a threesome or gang bang but I imagine this must feel somewhat similar. There was just so much of him at once. So many mouths sucking, licking, kissing and biting. So many hands grabbing, kneading, stroking.

Most overwhelming of all was the stomach mouth swallowing my lower-half almost completely. I felt like a sock-puppet. Every time the thick tongue buried inside my cunt would rove or undulate- my body would jolt and sway with it, held upright by a few greedy hands tugging my hips or breasts. I’d long become an incoherent mess and lost track of the orgasms- another rocking sharply through me, my toes curling in delight as it speared straight through my spine, sending me ramrod straight. I wailed into the mouth covering mine.

“Agh! Mmphfffmmnn…”

Sukuna chuckled from where he sat beneath me, occasionally just sitting back and watching me squirm. He removed the hand-mouth from my lips, my tongue still subconsciously reaching out for it. 

“You’ve become a wreck. A nice sight. Bite-marks become you.”

Even in my dazed state, I knew to suck in as many breaths as possible, trying to recollect myself before he shoved another mouth somewhere. That thick tongue grew mercifully still inside my cunt and I couldn’t help but whimper, steadying myself on his chest.

“Was that a cry of loss? Want more already?” he teased.

“G-give me- a minute-“ I panted, touching my damp, bruised mouth. Saliva coated my chin. Fantastic. It took all my effort to refocus on the here and now. It felt important not to get swept away by my own pleasure for too long. The worry of making him bored lurked in the far corners of my blissed out mind.

Sukuna just grinned as he always did. Patronizing and entertained. He gave me a hearty pat on the ass.

“You're really giving this your best! Good job. Want a snack break?”

“…with you still…inside?” I asked weakly. He cut his eyes to the heavens and rolled his hips in answer.

“You’re lucky I’m this generous about prepping you.”

I almost asked what he was prepping me for- but luckily I hadn’t lost the full functionality of my brain yet, casting a furtive glance at the two dicks sitting snugly behind me.

Right.

I wasn't sure how he'd acquire 'snacks' without moving but he raised a clawed hand and waved it in the air. 

"Uraume."

His white haired chef appeared in an instant, standing on the sidelines of the pool. "Yes, Master Sukuna?"

I choked, eyes flying wide. With a shriek, I tried to pull myself off Sukuna and hide- but he held me effortlessly in place. 

"Bring something to snack on. Ah, and more sake- I've run low."

Uraume inclined their head, not even sparing me a glance before disappearing again.

I was quick to shove at Sukuna’s chest, snarling. "What the heck?! That was not okay!"

"Hm? You think providing snacks isn't acceptable? I guess I'll enjoy them all to myself. It's no skin off my back," Sukuna chuckled, the action sending rumbling vibrations from his chest straight down to where we were connected.

"Don't you have a shred of decency? I don't want anyone else to see me like- like this! Bad enough I'm naked, but you're still…" I blushed, covering my chest with one arm and trying to pull away again. 

A hand clapped against my ass-cheek, shoving down. I cried out as our hips locked, burying his stomach tongue uncomfortably deep. My cunt practically screamed and purred all at once, clenching with a vice-grip around him. My toes curled, breath stalling. 

"Ah-ah, so noisy," a deep voice sighed into my ear. "Don't forget your situation right now, woman. You think you're in a position to start yelling my ear off?"

There was no time to catch my breath before he was bouncing me anew on his stomach, that tongue roving and winding, curling and stretching as far as it pleased. The noises he ripped from me weren’t human. Combined with the mouths that appeared on his greedy hands to suck and bite at my breast, another lapping at my clit, I lost coherency again. 

When another wave of pleasure crashed through my frazzled, exhausted systems- the slick organ was ripped away from inside me. There was a moment of pure, unadulterated loss, and the cry that bounced off his cavernous domain shirked like a grieving woman. 

But then it was replaced with something hard. Sukuna grunted from below me. “Let’s see how you handle one.”

With one thrust- he was buried inside to the brim. My everything accepted him pathetically easily, dripping with need. I practically clung to him, sobbing with relief, cunt clamping down on him as if it wished to devour. 

“Heh- eheh-ahahaha! Look at you! Don’t you have a shred of decency? I thought you cared about having an audience, but you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

It took a moment to grasp what he was saying over the slap of our bodies meeting, my mind growing fuzzy with every jolt it sent through my body. I felt boneless. My mouth was agape though I couldn't remember opening it. Sukuna’s long fingered hand curled around my chin then, turning it so that I looked to the left. 

Sukuna’s chef had returned, balancing a tray of food and bottle of sake on one hand. If they had any interest in our rutting together like animals, they made no comment. I couldn’t bring myself to care, either. If anything, I grasped Sukuna’s shoulders and tried to weakly bounce on his lap, seeking my own pleasure again and again, building up, hitting that spot- and then falling off the precipice, only to start over due to Sukuna’s unrelenting thrusts. 

They were muttering something, having a brief conversation while we fucked, or perhaps I fucked myself stupid on his lap. It would’ve been humiliating had I any shame left. 

“Oi- open up.”

I parted my lips mindlessly, and Sukuna sat something on my tongue, only to close my mouth. I realised it was his food. Meat. Bloodied and raw. Rare steak wasn’t really to my tastes but when he commanded me to eat I did so immediately. 

“Good girl,” I thought I heard him purr. He patted my cheek. “Come on, gn- more…”

I let him feed me, feeling my cheeks grow wet. Was I crying? Why was I crying? I couldn’t understand why. Something in my stomach churned, heaving, wanting to reject the food. It stung like the dull hiss of cigarette burns. 

A hand clamped over my mouth then. Ruby red eyes glowered from beneath me within the haze of the hot-spring steam. There was a wickedness to them. A smile, and flash of sharp canines. 

“Have your fill, greedy woman. I know you’re not full yet.”

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Everything ached.

There was a test in two days that I'd set time aside to study for- but the words continually blurred on the page. The hustle and bustle of the mall felt so far away as I gazed with glassy eyes at a music shop further below my vantage point. My mind kept wandering, focusing on the burn in my thighs and deep, yearning feeling of loss somewhere in my core. It was pathetic. Beyond that deep craving though, I kept sensing something…off.

I subtly put a hand to my stomach. I'd been hungry all day but the second I'd bought a meal- queasiness rolled in my gut. I eyed the sad burger and fries sitting on their tray. Reaching for them again, I grabbed a fry and forced it past my lips, chewing with effort. The usual delicious saltiness tasted like sand. 

My phone blinked persistently, a text waiting to be answered. I knew it was Neil. Somehow he’d gotten ahold of my number. I flicked the screen mindlessly to ignore it, gazing listlessly down at the people wandering through the mall, chatting. Lovers walked arm in arm, and I observed them like they were an exhibit in an Aquarium. They were so far removed from anything I’d ever known or experienced. Soft, gentle and kindly laughing at one another. 

“The maggots up to anything interesting?”

I started, swallowing with effort. My throat burned as I squinted up at Sukuna. How had he found me so easily in the city? “What?”

He smiled in that usual self-assured way, no hint of difference in him despite how depraved we’d acted just a few days ago. I hadn’t seen him since waking up sluggishly in my room, but my body was certainly still paying the price. The only reason he’d apparently stopped at ‘one’ was because he’d had a meeting to get to, otherwise I’d have taken ‘both’ in whatever hole he’d pleased. “You seemed lost in thought while watching the spread of insects infesting the mall today. Wondered if there was anything worth looking at. Any violence worth mentioning?”

“Wh- no! Nothing. And don’t talk about humans like that around me.”

“Hm? Why not?”

“Because in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m one!”

“Nah. You might’ve been once, but then you became my pet,” Sukuna helped himself to a seat opposite me, dwarfing the poor plastic with his mass and height. His jacket hung slightly loose, exposing a bare shoulder. I tried not to stare. “Now I suppose…you’re my woman.”

I scoffed, forcing myself to eat another fry. “What happened to being your pet?”

“I fuck women, not pets.”

It took all my willpower not to roll my eyes. For a man with such a vast number of textbooks, poetry and knowledge crammed right into his home- and likely his brain- he could come out with the stupidest lines sometimes.

The seat creaked as Sukuna leaned forward, resting a thick arm on the table before me. “So, are you going to share what you were staring at?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“So snappy,” Sukuna sighed, stealing one of my fries to gesture at me with it. “You’d have thought fucking you would shake that stick up your ass enough to loosen it some.”

“Charming,” I growled, staring hard at the open pages of my book. I was unable to read a single line with him grinning ferally across from me. I slammed it shut, casting an uneasy glance at my barely touched meal. No way was I confessing what was actually bothering me. “I was looking at the music shop.”

“Does my woman have musical talents? You should play something for me sometime, if you're confident you won't offend my ears, that is.”

I could’ve told him about my lengthy past with music and how it had once been the bane of my existence. It had become something much more complicated now that I no longer played for the whims of my family. Instead, I gave a shrug. “You kind of need an instrument to play music, buddy.”

“Ah, so that’s it.”

Sukuna abruptly stood, gesturing with a single ‘come hither’ pluck of his fingers. “Come take a walk," he said, throwing his half-eaten fry back onto the table and grumbling that it 'tasted like shit.'

“Wh- where are we going? Damn it.” I quickly stood and gathered my things, stuffing them into my bag and following when Sukuna casually walked off.

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The decision to follow him felt like a poor one when he approached the very shop I'd been gazing at.

"Sukuna!" I hissed, to no avail. He strolled right in, gazing at the trumpets, guitars, drums, cellos, violins and various other instruments displayed inside. 

“Sukuna- you really don’t have to. Let’s get out of here," I touched his arm and spoke in a low voice, trying not to draw attention to us. Sukuna’s appearance didn't lend itself well to blending in though, all swagger and hard edges. As luck would have it, there was only an old man occupying the store behind the counter. 

“Not without the instrument you need. Go fetch," he pointed into the shop boredly. 

“I thought you said I wasn’t a pet anymore!”

He grinned darkly. “If you didn't bark at me like a mutt, I wouldn’t be so tempted to collar you and treat you as one.”

I growled, turning to the exit. “That’s it. I’m leaving-“

“How many years do you think the owner has left?”

That threw me off. I stopped and gave the old man a cursory glance. 

“What? Uh…I don’t know? I guess 10 to 20 at a push?”

Sukuna nodded thoughtfully. “Hm. Would be a pity if those 20 were cut short to a few minutes, wouldn’t it?" His eyes glittered like the surface of his crimson pool as they slanted down to me. "That’s how long he’s got left unless you pick up the instrument you want and bring it to me like a good girl.”

I gaped, working my mouth for a moment when no words would come. "Y-you’re impossible!” I finally burst.

“Thank you, I pride myself on being beyond human explanation. 117 seconds left.”

“Ah! Wait- wait!” panicking, I hurried toward the violin section. Sukuna's low laughter carried me all the way there, and I hurriedly scanned the selection. I wouldn't put it past Sukuna to commit daylight murder and I wasn't about to let an old man's death be on my conscience. 

I grabbed a violin at random and was about to hurry back- only to hit a solid wall. I squeaked, peeling my face away from where it had briefly been smothered in the depths of Sukuna’s chest. "W-what? You told me to hurry-?"

"Mn, but I didn't know you were into these," Sukuna plucked the violin from my hand, studying it with more care than I imagined he would. His hands smoothed over the dips and curves with a respect I hadn't thought him capable of. Careful and appreciative. "Aren't they a little awkward to just grab on the fly like that? They depend on various factors in order to be played effectively."

I paused and sized him up. For all his swagger and brutality, Sukuna sometimes spoke like this:  considerate of the proper pursuit of study. Come to think of it, he’d always give me space when I needed to cram for a college test in my room.

"Yeah, the shape of my shoulders and neck are a factor. They’d decide if this one is a good fit for me."

"Try it out."

It was impossible not to stare. Had the conversation several seconds ago not taken place? 

Sukuna ‘knocked’ on the side of my head with a rap of his knuckles. "Ohoho, are you ignoring me? Heh, that's a bold move."

"I thought you wanted me to hurry or you'd kill the owner!" Growling, I leaned away from him. 

"You really do take things too seriously. Makes you fun to rile up," he chuckled. "I’d get no enjoyment out of squishing that insect, so old and senile."

The caprice of his moods could sway so violently it was hard not to be swept away in the whiplash. After being his roommate for a little while now though (and getting to the point that I was comfortable yelling at him for leaving the toilet seat up) it allowed me to recover and shrug it off. Sukuna was weird. If he wanted me to perform like a little song-bird for him, I wouldn’t complain. 

It would be no different than the treatment I’d received from my parents anyway.

Settling the violin against me, I took a breath. Releasing it slowly, I glided the bow over the strings, frowning softly the longer I played. 

It wasn’t long before I was setting the body down and making adjustments. 

Sukuna hovered over my shoulder. He didn’t say anything but I could feel his eyes on my hands all the same as I tightened the strings and tried again. There was something a little off about it, so I picked up the next one and found the weight and feel much more natural. 

"That one,” he said at last, with a low decisive tone. “We're taking that."

"You want to steal it?!" I squeaked, jumping to conclusions. 

He shot me a patronizing look that I was quickly becoming accustomed to. I don’t know what that said about me. "Please, I'm not that cheap. Abusing power for petty thievery might satisfy some whelps for cheap thrills, but in reality it just comes across as tacky. Like you can’t pay for your own shit,” he lifted a bored shoulder, heading toward the counter.

Strange. I never would’ve expected him to have principles, especially after the way he acted- but this was Sukuna, and I suspected most decisions came down to spur-of-the-moment deals. He just didn’t feel like stealing today.

Nonetheless, I couldn’t compute what was happening as he actually strode up to the counter and spoke with the owner of the store. I busied myself with gently plucking at some harp strings, still feeling the residue of the fries sitting heavy in my stomach. What was wrong with me today?

"Take it."

Something smooth was shoved into my hands. I quickly grabbed onto the violin case as he let go- gawking at it. Unable to help myself, I clicked open the secures and looked inside at the brand new instrument sitting inside. Polished wood elegantly carved and shaped to perfection gleamed back at me. 

“What-? You’re just going to give it to me?” I asked, looking up at him in askance. This wasn’t like him. Surely there was a catch or a longer game to play?

“Tch, well I didn’t buy it just to have it languish on the mantelpiece,” he drawled, stuffing both hands in his pockets and heading for the exit. “You can play it- so play it. Whenever I want. That’s the deal.”

“Can I play outside of the hours you’d like me to?”

“Do as you wish.”

My heart did a funny flip in my chest. I couldn’t believe it. Was Sukuna being…nice? Maybe getting laid was truly good for him. If it meant the caprice of his mood perked up like this, I could see myself trying that method again in the future. 

---------

It took a little while of walking for Sukuna to glance back at me as we strolled out of the store and back into the mall. He tsked and grinned, eyeing me strangely. “Nobody’s going to take it from you, woman. Relax the death grip.”

Only then did I notice I’d been hugging the case to me possessively like a starved orphan. Blushing and dropping my arms hastily, I walked on like a professional violin player and most definitely not a weirdo with attachment issues. 

He continued on with a mocking scoff, but I quickened my pace- hurrying to walk beside him for once. “Thank you,” I mumbled. 

“Hah? Didn’t catch that. Say again louder.”

“Your age must be catching up with you then, I’m not repeating it.”

Sukuna chuckled, flashing sharp teeth in my direction. He then stopped, attention apparently caught by something across the mall.

I turned to look, but could only locate a gang of what looked like would-be thugs. Bunch of young guys with cheap tattoos and a swagger that suggested they were trying too hard. They left the mall, one spitting on the ground in parting. 

"You know the way back from here, right? I'll meet you at our place. There's something I need to do."

"Right this second?" I pressed, puzzled. 

Sukuna's grin was more unhinged this time, wide and broad. Clamping a hard palm atop my head, he caused it to sway with the force of his pets. "I got you a nice treat. That means you should be a good girl and obey. Go straight there," he bent down close to my ear, fanning hot breath against it. "I want you to warm my cocks later, understand?"

Like a lightning bolt striking true, I was suddenly ramrod straight. Heat speared tightly through my core. Fuck. 

Red eyes glittered. Sukuna barked a laugh, the sound carrying even as he strolled away. 

I waited a moment and sucked in a hard breath, slowly releasing it. After making sure my traitorous, pathetic legs wouldn’t betray me, I shakily followed him out of the mall, intending to go home. 

The outside world was chillier than anticipated, and I tugged my coat more firmly around me, hugging the violin case close. Downtown was as busy as ever, and I hurried along, not wanting to be stopped by some of the zealous worshippers that had cropped up ever since the Shibuya Incident. 

A laugh made me stop. Sharp and distinct. I knew that laugh. I'd heard it flit through my daydreams and nightmares enough to know it instinctively. 

Turning, I found myself mindlessly following it down an alley, my steps slow and careful. The alley was small and shadowed, crammed between two shops.

A cacophony of voices and laughter reached my ears, closer now. I ducked behind a stack of crates and listened.

“We were gonna go back to the club if ya wanna join? Ya seem pretty chill,” one voice was saying.

“Yeah, come drink with us!” another joined in.

“There’s women there. Their holes might not be tight but their mouths make up for it if ya know what I mean!”

Booming laughter swallowed the alley then, and I realized without seeing them that these men must’ve been the tryhard gang I’d seen just a few moments before in the mall. 

“Heeh? Sounds pretty good.”

It was hard not to shiver. Sukuna’s baritone had dipped into something lower than the voice he typically used around me.

From the soft inhale made, I recognised the sound of a drag being taken. “Come then, let’s go! I’ll set you up with Nanako!”

“Just one second.”

“Eh?”

“Where’s this little bar you want me to follow you to?” Sukuna uttered, sounding lazy and bored. 

“Roppongi, obviously! It’s got the best bars in Tokyo!”

“Ahh I get it. I’ve been chatting to touts this entire time,” a distinct sigh doused the air. 

That was when the screams started. 

I stiffened, clamping a hand over my mouth as the noises bounced off the alley walls. Shouts from the men were drowned out but I could just barely hear them. 

“What the FUCK man?!”

“What are you doing?! Arghhhhhhh!”

Sukuna’s carefree laugh cut through the wet, snapping sounds of flesh and bone tearing. I heard something thud to the ground. “You were all holding your heads a little too high for my tastes. You even thought you could lure me to one of those sleazy bars. The type of shithole where the drink is cheap but spiked so you can drain me of cash or try to get me hooked on something, right? Tsk, so boring. You’re a waste of air. Better off in my stomach than wriggling around in broad-daylight where I can see you, Maggots!”

I began to back up then, heart racing. Through the slats in the crates I’d taken refuge behind, I made out the image of Sukuna slanting his mouth over another man’s- ripping his arms off cleanly with a casual jolt. Sukuna swallowed his horrified cries, only to back away slightly and bite down on the punk’s extended tongue as he screamed. 

He practically devoured his face. The other men still alive either watched on, helpless and frozen, or dragged their injured bodies away.

I swallowed thickly, almost choking on my own saliva- only to realize my mouth had become filled with it. My teeth ached. I suddenly had the urge to bite. To sink needy teeth down into…something. Something full and pulsing and alive.

My stomach rumbled. 

Jolting, I quickly turned and ran- fleeing from the sounds of blood-curdling madness or my own chattering, hungry teeth, I couldn’t tell. A figure took shape at the end of the alley, and I blinked the tears from my eyes enough to glimpse Uraume on my way out, who watched me pass by with a satisfied curl of their lips.

[mash-masha2011]

Chapter 1: Amnesia

So, imagine if Varian lost his memories in battle of Old Corona and went on a trip with Raps and co without knowing what he had done! That's it!

So, I kinda just scrolled Pinterest one day and saw Varian amnesia au picture. I searched everywhere and din't find any like what I wanted, so decided to write myself! That's the story! The post was drawn by @chiscribbs. So, yeah. Also, I'm new on tumblr. Just decided to write it here.

One more thing! I will update slowly. Like, last time it took me few month! Though, it was the end of the school year with all exams and all but... still it was really long. And now that I warned you, go ahead and try my au! I really hope you like it!

Giant automaton ran straight on Rapunzel. Boy inside watched with hatred on his young face how princess touched black spike looking rocks that appeared few half a year ago, but his face quickly changed to shock and maybe even fear when he saw how rocks started to glow bright blue and how Rapunzel could, somehow, control them. Varian's shock gone as fast as it came. In a second he was leading his robot to girl he hated the most that moment. He didn't care when black rocks cut off his robot's leg, neither he cared when they did the same with another leg. He could still run without legs while he still had both arms. When Rapunzel broke robots left arm machine fled a few meters before crashed down. Last thing Varian remembered was falling and pain.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Varian slowly woke up. His head hurt and his wrists were chained together. He opened his eyes as fast as he realised it and looked around. There was a lot of people, some in armour, a few others in regular clothes, most of them had swords like they were fighting and the most strange thing was every time someone looked at Varian there was a with mix of fear, disgust and hatred in their eyes directed to him. Aside from that there was a lot of metal pieces all around, strange black spikes growing from the ground and a huge hole in a huge wall.

He noticed a girl with unnaturally long blond hair - like 70 feet or something! - arguing with a big man in all black, woman a little away from them with short black hair and a man with goatee. As fast as long-haired girl noticed that he woke up she quickly came to him with worried look on her face.

"Varian! Are you okay?" She asked carefully with some strange emotions in her voice. There was worry, guilt and... fear? Why would someone fear him? 

"I think so" Varian answered slowly "My head still hurts a little, but that's fine" He answered and tilted his head in confused gesture "Do I know you?"

"Wh-what do you mean? Of course you do!" She said with round eyes and shock in voice. After a small pause she added in higher voice than before "Do you not remember me?"

"I should?"

"Yes!" She looked at him with terrified

"What's wrong, Blondie?" Goatee-man came and put his hand around girl's waist protectively "Did he tried to hurt you again?" 

Again? What does he mean 'again'? Did he already hurt her once? Is that why there was fear in her voice?

"No, Eugene, but..." Girl breathed deeply to calm down and looked at man with still round eyes  "there's a problem" 

"What's wrong?" Man looked at blonde girl 

"Varian, do you remember him?" Girl asked Varian and then looked at goatee-man again

"No..." Varian looked confused. Should he remember them? If yes, then why don't he? What happened here before he woke up? Wait. What happened before he woke up? "I don't remember anything..." Varian whispered

"What?" Eugene asked and no one was sure if it because he was shocked or because he was curious what boy said

"I don't remember anything!" Varian answer louder. His voice was high and shook as his knees and hands.

"You don't ?" Eugene looked shocked and scared but then narrowed his eyes "How do we know Stripes's not lying?"

"Eugene, calm down! We don't, but I won't leave him be thrown in dungeons if he don't even remember for what!" Girl answered. She started calm but her voice grew stronger with each word. 

"I hate to admit it but Fitzerbert is right. We can't trust him after what he did!" Short-haired girl said appearing behind blonde girl

"Cass, I know we can't, but neither can we check if he's lying or not! And I won't leave him alone!" Long-haired girl said confidently and then added guiltily "Not again..."

"Fine, but what do you suggest we do?" Black-haired girl - blonde girl called her Cass - asked clearly annoyed

"I will talk to my dad, explain him situation and..." Long-haired girl thought for a moment "ask if he could go with us on a trip!"

"No way!" Eugene said shocked, but girl already ran off

Who are they? Why am I in handcuffs? Why does this place looks like a battlefield? Who am I? Why don't I remember anything before I woke up? Who are these people in armour? Why does everyone look at me like I was the cause of this battle? Why does that girl has seventy feet of hair?

All three sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Uhh... so, who are you?" Varian broke the awkward silence. 

"I'm Eugene, Blondie is Rapunzel and this ice cold, soulless and heartless demon is Cass" Eugene said with a smirk on the last few words

"For you it's Cassandra" Cassandra said in a really cold tone

"And who is that man in all black Rapunzel went to talk to?" Varian looked at that man and back to Eugene 

"He's the King of Corona, and her father" 

"Wow! So she's a princess! Cool!" Varian's gaze fell on handcuffs and smile appeared on his face fell. After a small pause he asked "Why am I in handcuffs? Am I a criminal? Why does this place looks like a battlefield? Who were you fighting? Where you fighting me? Is that why I'm in these?" Varian started slowly but with each word he spoke faster and higher.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down!" Eugene saw boy was panicking "Breath with me! Breath in. Count to ten. Breath out. Count to eight" After Varian calmed down Eugene sighed "Lets... talk about it later, huh?"

"Then... tell me a little about myself" Varian looked at Eugene 

"So, you're Varian, you probably already know it, you're fourteen, have a pretty strange pet raccoon named Ruddiger. Speak of the devil, here he is!" Eugene gestured to a raccoon climbing Varian's shoulder "You live here- actually, no, your village evacuated due to black rocks so no, you live in Old Corona, and your dad is a village leader" was Eugene thought guiltily "And, of course, you love alchemy!"

"Wow, that's cool. Where is my dad?" 

"Uh... he... went on a... long trip and asked us to look after you!" Eugene knew it was an obvious lie but to his surprise kid believed him. 

"Okay..." Three sat in silence for few more minutes "Why is Rapunzel's hair is so long? It's like..." Varian looked at girl's hair "seventy feet long!"

"She's the embodiment of the sundrop!" Eugene sounded like Varian should know what sundrop is.

"What is 'the sundrop'?" 

"Oh my gosh!" Eugene said slowly 

"Fitzerbert" For the first time in a long time Cassandra spoke, sounding very annoyed "if he's not lying, which is unlikely, then he doesn't remember anything, so we will need to explain him sundrop, black rocks, and other magical stuff"

"There's no such thing as magic! It's just something that people can't explain yet!" Varian sounded like he was explaining the easiest thing to the dumbest kids.

Cassandra's face turned stone cold as she glared at him.

"Yeah, that's closer to Varian I knew!" Eugene laughed a little. Next second Rapunzel came with an exited smile on her face. "Hey, Blondie! How it went?"

"My dad told me Varian can come with us!" While Rapunzel saying this was full of excitement, Cassandra grimaced and rolled her eyes. "Varian, you will come with us on a journey!" 

"Hold on, Blondie, we don't even know yet if he wants to come!" Eugene reasoned her

"Right. Varian," Princess turned to Varian "do you want to come with us?"

"It's not like I have a choice, right?" Varian asked but saw expression on Rapunzel's face added "I mean, I have no memories, my dad is outside of Corona and won't be back soon and judging by Eugene saying nothing about my mom she or left me or dead so I don't have any choice!" after a small pause he asked "So where are we going?"

"Right! We are following the path of black rocks which appeared when I touched one of them!" Rapunzel said gesturing to the black spikes "Let's go! i will tell you everything!"

"Yeah, about that... I don't think I can walk in these!" Varian gestured to chains he was in

"Crap! Sorry, Kid!" Eugene quickly bend down and lock picked the cuffs on his hands and ankles in no time "Here you go!"

"Wow! That was so fast!" Varian looked absolutely shocked and awed, but Cassandra just rolled her eyes

"We have keys for this, you know?" She said flatly

"Don't mind her" Eugene whispered in boy's ear with a smirk "She's just jealous of my handsomeness!" 

"Let's go now!" Rapunzel said visibly struggling to stand in one place

"Okay, okay, Blondie, we're coming!"

When the four of thew started walking Rapunzel finally was able to let out all the energy she was holding in, which to Varian seemed like energy of a whole world.

"So, long long long long long time ago drop of sun fell from the sky. And from it grew a magic, golden, flower. It had the ability to heal the sick, and injured, turn younger and save from death. Then...

Hey! I wanted also say sorry to everyone who likes evil Frederic or Royal pain, but this time I decided he will be a bit more... kind? Understanding? And giving second chances? Bleh, when I write Frederic and kind in one sentence it's like I'm committing crime! Sorry for that, probably reading about kind Fred also wasn't best experience) 

Anyway, see you next time, love you all!

P.S. Don't forget to comment) I know I'm not the best writer ever, but... it would really make my day! Thanks!

Also I noticed that I didn't mention that this isn't a one-shot! So now I'm telling you this! It's not a one-shot! It's a multi-chapter story and I have a second chapter already written!

And also I have V's look drawn and please like it because it was hard with me being a super bad at drawing! Thanks!

[kolcheksluver]

Frank, while he doesn't seem like it, has a nightmare of Lambert killing Joey who's right in the bed next to him, sound asleep and he's extra clingy and just doesn't let her leave his sight. And kisses. Like forhead while she's still asleep to reassure and actual kisses when she's awake

NIGHTMARES — A ONE SHOT.

characters mentioned: Ana Lucia Cruz / Joey, Adam Barrett / Frank, Lambert, Abigail, Lazar, Caleb Cruz.

overview: In reality she looked up at him, drenched to the bone in blood from both Sammy and Lambert shaking and carefully reaching for the stake, and Frank would tilt his head and ask, “The fuck are you doing? Get up, we’re leaving before Fancy Nancy and her father decide to show their ugly faces,” but now Joey wasn’t looking at him. She wasn’t reaching for the stake, she wasn’t fearful that he had turned on her.

Joey wasn’t moving at all, actually.

words: 771

warnings: None just a blood mention. Sorry for the delay!! Writing under the cut per usual, enjoy.

Sleeping at night wasn’t something Frank much needed anymore. Throughout the day was another thing but at night he usually stayed awake as Joey rested, her head against his arm. He often lost feeling in it but he didn’t care. As long as she slept soundly he would be alright. Sometimes he would doze off but it was very rare. The city was loud at night and with his enhanced senses it was hard for him to fall asleep.

Frank didn’t even remember falling asleep but when he opened his eyes he was back in that damned mansion’s control room with that two - timing bastard Lambert. He had found himself thinking about that night often but not once did he turn up in his dreams. His eyes were trained not on his face but his hands which were wrapped tightly around Joey’s neck squeezing in an unrelenting grip. Her face was red as she was helplessly pawing at his arms to pull him away to no avail.

He took a deep breath as she offered a weak plea of his name which was something he thought about a lot, but it was mostly what came after. He was rooted in selfishness so why he had given up his humanity for her remained a mystery to them both but one thing was for sure; he would do it again given the chance.

“Fuck it,” he had said with a relatively straight face as if to not give away that he was plotting against him. “Bite me.”

Frank could’ve winced when Lambert had let go of Joey, damn near bashing her head on the wall and she collapsed. The rest of the dream played out how the situation went down except for one variable — Joey. In reality she looked up at him, drenched to the bone in blood from both Sammy and Lambert shaking and carefully reaching for the stake, and Frank would tilt his head and ask, “The fuck are you doing? Get up, we’re leaving before Fancy Nancy and her father decide to show their ugly faces,” but now Joey wasn’t looking at him. She wasn’t reaching for the stake, she wasn’t fearful that he had turned on her.

Joey wasn’t moving at all, actually.

Frank furrowed his eyebrows and gave her leg a light kick, “Joey. Get the fuck up, we’re leaving.” No response. “We don’t have the fucking time to play possum, Joey, get up.” When she didn’t respond again he started to get a bit worried, slightly. Frank knelt down and lightly shook her. “Ana?” He reached for her head and on his hand was a fresh coat of blood that was not there prior. When the realization set in he shook his head, moving to carry her in his arms if he had to. “No, no, no .. you are not fucking dying here. Y’know how annoying it’ll be to explain why you’re so fucking bloody to a morgue?” When the door to the control room opened, that's when Frank finally woke up.

He would’ve sat upright had it not been for the weight of Joey’s head against his arm.

The weight.

The weight of Joey.

The weight of Joey’s head against his arm.

He looked over at her and in an attempt to be discreet, gently set two fingers on the pulse in her neck. It was slow but it was there. She was fine. She was alive. She was sleeping. Frank relaxed slightly but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something would happen to her, so he carefully moved Ana so that she was gently pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around her protectively, that way nobody could touch her.

Not Lambert, not angelina ballerina, and certainly not Lazar. It was just them. Joey, in his arms, Frank holding her, and Caleb in his room down the hall fast asleep. He placed a hesitant kiss to the top of his head and felt a shift in his arms.

“What’re you doing?”

Fuck, he woke her up.

“Nothin’,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “You rolled over is all.”

The state of them could have been near impossible if it were Joey who had just rolled over into his arms but she wasn’t even fully awake so he doubted she would cue in on that. “I did?”

“Yeah. Go back to sleep, Ana.”

Despite his hearing he didn’t catch what she said before she pulled the covers more over them and went back to bed. Frank took a deep breath. He was fine. She was fine. Everything was fine.

Just a stupid fucking nightmare. What was he, twelve?

[an-organism]

so on ali’s motivation for [redacted under cut]

going to dragonstone - she’s trying to end the war as bloodlessly as possible for her immediate family while she has any leverage left whatsoever. there is some triaging going on, as she’s reached the point where she doesn’t think there’s anything she can do for aemond - that’s a realization that started to creep in with luke's death, continued through rook’s rest and his ascendance to the regency, and was capped off by what she saw of his treatment of helaena in e8. from her perspective he’s clearly negligent with the lives of his siblings, if not an outright deliberate threat to them, which makes it easier for her to justify writing him off as a lost cause and prioritize the others.

over the course of s2 we’ve seen her exhaust any remaining influence she previously had over aemond, larys, criston, and the rest of the small council, so once the walls start to close in she makes a last-ditch effort with rhaenyra, who’s the one and only person with any real power on either side of the war that she might have an outside shot at dealing with (indicated in part by the surprise church date a few weeks ago). she thinks, probably correctly, that she can at least convince her to spare helaena and jaehaera, but gives a solid effort at pleading for aegon’s life as well, exaggerating his injuries, her own sway over him, and his willingness to bend the knee to downplay him as a threat.

yeah it’s probably too little too late at this point, and obviously we see that rhaenyra won’t commit to sparing aegon (after which alicent straight-up leaves without agreeing to anything else, worth noting), but what does alicent have to lose here? it’s not going to get better if she waits any longer. if rhaenyra wins on her own terms, she’ll at minimum kill aegon, and who’s to say whether she stops at him; otoh if the war drags out, that leaves aemond in power as an escalatingly loose kinslaying cannon who’s doing an even better job at endangering his siblings than rhaenyra is. this way, either rhaenyra agrees to negotiate with her and she gets something out of that, she disagrees but alicent is able to plant the idea in her head and get a better idea of what she wants, or rhaenyra kills her on the spot and none of this is her problem anymore.

for whatever reason people are set on interpreting all this as either alicent being sooo down horrendous over stupid sexy nyra she forgets what side she's on, and/or condal et al just wanting to humiliate her out of spite or something? as opposed to a genuine attempt at exercising some control over the situation she’s in that necessarily involves telling rhaenyra what she wants to hear, which fails because 1) too much has happened already and 2) rhaenyra is in a very different place than she was at their meeting in the sept, what with her new cult and hot lover and subservient cuck husband and all. but what are her other options? nobody else is listening to her.

[quaememinisse]

Careful What You Sing Ch. 2

Plot: A mermaid's song captivates the attention of an old Mayan god.

Warnings: smut, female orgasm kink, pregnancy/impregnation kink, nsfw

Themes: Romance, Smut, Non-con

Author's Note: He makes me just waterfall in my panties. I don’t understand it…I haven’t been this aggressively turned on by a villain since Loki. I feel he would be very good at sex. One has to understand different elements that they are designed for, right? Like water ;) He can fly in the air and underwater, basically, so...Something is just so hot about a guy that can make a woman cum. I’m lucky enough to have that in order to write more detail in the sex. Spent the weekend with my boyfriend, and Idk how tf I can even walk right now…

Chapter 2 of 2. Read chapter 1.

K’uk’ulkan reaches for Samara’s hip and starts to massage it. It becomes clear to her that she will not be going anywhere anytime soon. By the time K’uk’ulkan tires himself out, rolling onto his side, and clutching her around the waist, panting, she can tell that if she stands, she will hardly walk straight. The mermaiden had gone from defiantly resisting everything that is happening, to succumbing to the pleasure the god keeps giving to her. She had stopped pushing him away and let him have his way with her. Never in her life did she orgasm so much, even in her tricentennial trek. K’uk’ulkan sent her into blinding, full body paroxysms. Breathing shakily, she reminisces the moments that had passed just fifteen minutes prior…

“I can tell that you like it, my love,” K’uk’ulkan stated with a grin and satisfied laugh, “You squeeze on me inside. Your screams…you pull—” and he had been cut short by his own climax. He put her into various positions, which kept changing the way he felt inside of her. However, she always felt completely stuffed, no matter which way he moved her body. He mainly seemed to enjoy having her on her back, in positions where he could watch her face twist with pleasure when she came, pillows under her sacral space, one of her legs over his brawny shoulders, which he enjoyed holding onto while standing with her in both arms, pounding so hard that Samara had screamed several times.

When he slung her leg over his shoulder in bed and propelled between her thighs, kneeling and biting his lower lip with anticipation, she squirted. Her entire body shook and she went into what seemed like a brief seizure. K’uk’ulkan did not give her room to breathe. He had turned her onto her back almost immediately, the pillows supporting her lower body, grunting when she felt him at her entrance again, where he had promptly pushed himself inside while she was still in the throes of climax. Another orgasm built itself upon the one she was already having, as K’uk’ulkan assaulted her G spot with no remorse, using an up and down bob motion with his hips. She gazed up at him with her face twisted in pleasure, which made K’uk’ulkan hard.

Even when he turned her to face away from him, and swiftly pulled her into a kneeling position, Samara came. After the tenth orgasm in this position, he had rested on his side, taking her with him, staying snuggly fit inside her like a sword in its rightful sheath.

“Keep your leg open,” he breathed, nipping into her neck and pummeling her deep. His thick head teased her G-spot with every thrust. His shaft had become so wet with her arousal that it was very easy for K’uk’ulkan to thrust with this speed. Samara had lost control, crying out in pleasure, and her leg dipped. His large hand fit around her entire knee, his grip tightening there slightly with every orgasm. She had become putty in the god’s hands. She screamed, and the god paused to feel her clenching cunt to the fullest, keeping himself buried to prevent her wetness from forcing him out with her contractions.

“Mmmmmmm…Is that pleasure, in yaakunaj?” he asked, knowing full well that it was. She tried to look him in the eyes, and her mouth opened briefly as though she were going to say something, but instead, she moaned and her eyes rolled. He felt powerful. She was cumming so much that she stopped resisting him. Even her cunt felt to K’uk’ulkan to have given way a bit more, obediently. She was still the tightest thing he had ever been inside of, but her sloppy wetness let him in like he was diving into the ocean, embracing its power. She smelled of the sea’s sweetness, her soul a beautiful display that he wanted for himself.

“Open yourself to me, in yaakunaj,” he told her lasciviously. His words sent her over the edge and he grinned. She gripped at his chest and shoulder, clawing, pulling one of his necklaces off in her seizure.

He held her very closely to his warm body, and moaned into her flesh from behind, nipping her neck in ways that would leave bruises. He pulled out suddenly, and Samara gasped. He practically gaped her, his girth was so intense. To feel it taken away was like losing something vital. He merely wanted her on her back again. He plunged her, a breath catching in his throat. The veins in his neck showed themselves in the candle light, and Samara had seen a bead of sweat on his golden skinned forehead. She felt him fill her with his copious, thick, searing seed again, which he did very deeply each time he finished. K’uk’ulkan kept thrusting when the moment passed, not caring about the wet mess growing on the sheets, or Samara panting and sweating like she could not take another orgasm, though she would…

She fears to try to move from this bed, knowing he will more than likely make love to her again if he wakes. His breaths over the top of her head make Samara shiver slightly, some of the air passing across her bare shoulder. K’uk’ulkan’s naked body radiates warmth, however, keeping her comfortable. She contemplates getting up a while longer, beginning to waver in K’uk’ulkan’s heat. She crawls prone towards the edge of the bed slowly, gently pulling out of the god’s arms. He sighs, and she pauses. He doesn’t get up. When she finally stands, K’uk’ulkan’s ichor drips continuously down her inner thighs. She ignores the sensation, still recovering physically and mentally. Samara can still feel K’uk’ulkan’s big hands on her skin, all over her body. She was so frightened originally that she wasn’t able to fully appreciate the beauty of K’uk’ulkan’s bedchambers. She knows only that the doors have been under guard from the moment he brought her here. Had anyone heard her screaming for help? Screaming and sighing out of pleasure?

The blood rising to her cheeks, Samara is glad that she is at least alone. And then she recalls that she is not alone. K’uk’ulkan had only left her once since he took her from the shores. He had not told her where he was going, only that she was not to leave their chambers. Out of fear, she had listened, and literally sat where K’uk’ulkan had led her before leaving. This was not long before her returned and offered her the same drink she had grown to like. At least she likes something about this place. She glances over at the sleeping god and ponders how she might try to kill him for several seconds. He had absconded with her, no chance to say goodbye to her few kin. She grows weak in the knees, suddenly, hearing again the words K’uk’ulkan says to her, feeling his girth stretching her with no restraint. She finally falls to her knees, overtaken by images of her various dreams. Knowing they have not yet all come to pass, Samara shivers with what feels like anticipation now.

“In yakunaj…” K’uk’ulkan’s hands are truly there this time. He is carrying her back to their bed. It seemed he knew she was sleepwalking. Had they been together many times before, with these dreams? She begins to feel as though she knows him, as though she had always known him.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asks her, rubbing her shoulders, gradually tracing down her torso, removing her hands where she covers her naked breasts. His touch seems to put her under a spell, and now all she wants is K’uk’ulkan to be inside of her. She moans pleasurably at his fingertips deeply massaging her hips. She feels overheated, dry to the touch.

“Water,” she whispers desperately.

She knows not how long K’uk’ulkan had been keeping her in bed, only that it seemed to be days and nights. He stands and starts to walk to the large doors of their chamber. He opens them, dismissing his guards, before returning to the bed to pick Samara up. He doesn’t walk long before entering another chamber where the stone floor ends and water begins. He places Samara gently into the slightly ripping water. Her scales begin to erupt almost immediately, and her chin faces the ceiling as she screams in pain, losing her land legs. K’uk’ulkan’s hands steady her throughout the transformation, something Samara had not experienced previously. She had been unconscious when he brought her here.

            “Easy, my love,” he says, stroking her hair, having held it in the water, her ears submerged, but she can still hear him speak. She realizes he is not going to leave her side.

            “Do you hunger? Are you still thirsty?” he asks.

She wonders how long he will let her stay here. The open ocean calls her, but she remains in the same trance she had been when she first met him. His hand pauses atop her belly, which has swollen just a little bit following the return of her tail. She gasps, discovering that this change has caused the rapid progression of a new life. Had K’uk’ulkan known this would happen? Her eyes fix upon a throne, which she had been too wear to notice when she entered this room for the first time.

            “I want to be in the water.” She had not uttered much to him until now.

            “Then I will stay with you,” K’uk’ulkan remarks.

He releases her, to her surprise. She could try to swim away, but she knows it matters not to where she runs. There is an odd pull between her and his magnificence. She can’t seem to break this trancelike feeling. His chocolate gaze follows her as she swims a little bit further from him. He ventures further to join her. He seems mesmerized by her tail, staring at it through the water. She submerges herself and watches him swim overhead, gazing down at her. She longs for her legs back, suddenly, seeing the parts of him which had given her immense pleasure. But alas, her tail would strictly prevent this. She felt she was barely loose enough to accept him in her human form. There was no way she would have been able to do this in her true state. She swims towards the stone floor, knowing he will follow her. Samara pulls herself out of the water, shaking her tail.

            “It must stay wet,” he said, unsure why she would beach herself. Wet is exactly what she yearns to be. It isn’t long before he’s sitting beside her. His hands reach for her fish portion and caress the shining scales there, reaching into the water and cupping the fluid to keep dousing her tail. She drags herself towards the wall, where there are these beautiful and colorful murals, in which Samara can see K’uk’ulkan. K’uk’ulkan follows, inquiring of her. She screams, gripping his arms to brace herself for the change again. There was what appeared to be worry in the god’s eyes, however he had simply let her hold him, keep her shoulders stable, while she lost her tail. Catching her breath, she looks at him with longing, parting her fresh legs. The god took advantage of her gesture, bringing Samara’s hands to his member, which starts to harden as soon as her fingertips make contact.

[subwaysurf45]

Is there any way we can get more Drabble or stories for team Bucky? I would love to see more from them. Like if Steve has a girlfriend? Or his pov?

Team Bucky pt. 2

It's hard to leave a story with a little bit of angst so here we go, let's be friends again!

A/N: here’s part one

The moment Steve understood you and Bucky’s relationship was not too long after telling you he was warming up to the idea of this relationship. 

You were wheeled in on the stretcher, completely unconscious with burn marks on your legs. Steve just happened to be in the medical wing, talking to the receptionist Mary. His world completely stopped when you popped in from the corner of his eye, doctors pushing you extremely fast to a trauma room. One doctor stayed back and leaned over to Mary, using medical terminology and speaking fast so Steve didn’t pick up on a lot of what was happening, all he could understand was what he saw. 

Mary began to write everything, seeing Steve’s face and explaining it to him - all of it. 

The first thing Steve did was run the other way, to go find Bucky. As Steve ran down the corridor and made a right Bucky was already sprinting towards med-bay, FRIDAY most likely made an announcement in their room. 

Steve didn’t wait for Bucky to ask, “she’s unconscious but still breathing on her own,” he pivoted and ran beside Bucky, “burns on her legs as well as head trauma, she’s in room three but we can’t go in to prevent infection,” they had made it and stopped by Mary’s desk, “we have to wait at the chairs?” This question was directed at Mary. 

“Yes, can I get you guys some water?” She guided them both over. Both of them said yes and sat down, looking straight forward and not saying anything. 

The moment Steve heard a sniffle his head whipped over to see Bucky with his head almost between his knees, hands covering his entire face to stifle the cries. Hesitantly, Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s back, causing Bucky to unleash his tears and lean towards Steve. 

“We both know she’s a fighter,” Steve whispered, “you know more than anyone her grit and her ability to bounce back, alright?” his hand rubbed Bucky’s back. 

Bucky nodded and sat up, “I just-” he sighed and wiped down his face, “it feels like I’m losing everyone close to me.” 

“What?” Steve whispered. 

“I feel like I lost you as my best friend and now I’m losing my girlfriend,” Bucky cried as he looked over, “I just feel like my entire life is slipping through my fingers and I can’t make it stop.” 

Steve sighed, “Buck, listen to me.” he waited until Bucky fully looked him in the eyes, “I know you guys haven’t cared for my update with this relationship but I support it, I have seen time and time again your love for one another and I have painfully realized y/n doesn’t need protecting and she certainly doesn’t need me controlling,” they both let out a dry laugh, “part

of me was hurt I was left out of the loop but that was the initial sting, after blowing up I felt like I couldn’t find the right path to get back into your guy’s life so yeah, I pulled away and gave up on trying.” 

“I get that,” Bucky nodded along, “we were going to sit you down and explain, this was not going to be a thing where we surprise you at the wedding or with an engagement ring, y’know?” 

“Yeah,” Steve kept his hand on Bucky’s back, “I wanted y/n all to myself and when I realized I couldn’t have that I freaked out because I thought I had lost everything but I didn’t realize she was still there. For that,” Steve’s eye became glossy, “I’m sorry. For pulling away from you, for being selfish, for not taking a moment to listen, and for not trying harder to make things work.” 

Bucky smiled, “thanks, bud,” it was as sincere as Steve’s apology, “but this-”

“When y/n wakes up I want to go in there right away and say the same thing,” Steve quickly cut Bucky off, knowing what Bucky was going to say. “I know what you mean when you say you feel yourself losing everything, I feel it in this moment too and I understand. I’m not apologizing because of a dire situation but because I feel like it’s the right time so I’m taking it.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, “you can go in first, she’d be happy to see you.” 

********

Steve was slowly coming out from his sleep, he could already feel the knot in his neck from resting in the hospital chairs. Someone was clearing their throat and Steve just thought it was Bucky, it was hard for him to fall asleep in public and was probably still wide awake so Steve kept his eyes closed. 

In his mind he went over what he was going to say and how, he was going to give you time to yell at him and release all the pent up anger towards him. He’d walk in slowly and quickly answer that Bucky was still outside and take a seat, he’d be calm and talk slowly. If you began to cough he’d shoot up and get a glass of water, helping you drink it and wiping your chin of anything that slipped past your lips. He’d take a deep breath and start with- 

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes.” The coughing has turned into a voice, a low voice that didn’t belong to Bucky. 

They both opened their eyes and took in how they were sleeping. Bucky’s head was resting on Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s head was resting on Bucky’s head, Steve’s arm still sitting on Bucky’s back. 

They laughed at themselves and looked forward, both letting out a noise after seeing you sitting in a wheelchair. Neither of them knew what to say, both stunned you were awake and out of bed. 

“y/n has been discharged, she needs to be wheeled back to her room.” 

Steve stood, “but she had burns on her legs, shouldn’t she stay here at least at night?” Steve looked at Bucky and saw he had the same worried expression, Bucky quickly nodded. 

“No,” the doctor said, “the burns have been wrapped and there wasn’t actually any head trauma, just some blood from someone else,” you nodded, “her heart and blood pressure is great, everything is good to go.” 

“I’ll fill out the discharge papers, you can take her back to the room,” Bucky stood and took the clipboard, he looked at you, “Steve wants to talk so I’ll give you space.” 

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, Steve saw the reassuring look Bucky gave you. You looked up at Steve and smiled, “can you take my back to my room and we can talk there?” 

“Of course,” Steve walked around and grabbed the handles, “do you want to stop by the kitchen first?” 

“No thank you,” you placed your hands in your lap as Steve wheeled you out. 

********

“-and that,” Steve said as his voice shook, “is why I am so unbelievably sorry for everything I caused you,” he wiped the tears off his face but it did nothing. He watched your lip tremble, and cried a little more when you stretched out your arms, “I’m so sorry little sis, you have no idea.” 

You nodded and cried as well, “I’m so glad we had this chat, I thought I was going to lose you and I understand everything.” 

“Even the Peggy part?” Steve pulled away, “I just don’t want you to feel that heartbreak like I did,” you nodded with a smile, “the business we’re in I mean…I just don’t want my little sister to get hurt but I know that’s so-”

He stopped when your finger touched his lips, “I understand,” you smiled, “and I forgive you.” 

“Thank God,” he whispered and fell back into the hug, holding on for dear life. “I’m never going to make that mistake again, ever.” Steve squeezed you tightly, “I’m keeping my plan to walk you down the aisle.” Both of you giggled and held each other a little tighter 

“I love you, big bro.”

“You too, little sis.”

Bucky stood quietly in the doorway, smiling to himself at the image he saw before him. It felt like the tension dissolved but most importantly a weight had been lifted off of everyone's shoulders, it felt nice to simply co-exists again. 

Main Masterlist  

Taglist: tag list:  @imtherain@jackiehollanderr@redneckstrash@tylard-blog1@readingbooksdrinkingtea@linzc-reader@hotleaf-juice@honeybunchesofbucky@sky0401@striving4averagegirl@seybox@yaszx@happyt0exist@honeybunchesofbucky@munsonettee@searchf0rtheskyline@aya-fay@emi11ie@wbyss​ 

[nkn0va]

Another OC Post

My previous post that debuted Six got very glowing reviews from @your-phantomfield. After some conversation I ended up getting another idea for a oneshot, this time also featuring one of their OCs as well with their blessing and some help. Writing motivation has unfortunately been butchered due to multiple factors but they've managed to make me really wanna do this. Hopefully this goes just as well as the last one.

Yet another long post under the cut. (Like, noticeably longer than the last one.)

Six...for lack of a better term, froze when he found out. Yet his heart was going a million miles a minute with a myriad of emotions all at once, feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest.

Hakumen...Trinity...

...Nine...

His magic reacted to his emotions, becoming unstable and chaotic just like they were right now. Almost to a dangerous degree. His arms glowed with the near overflow of power, any lesser Sage would've lost control and lead to disaster. He'd been told of the news from Valkenhayn who'd learned about it from Jubei, and with only a word of thanks for the news he teleported away, ending up somewhere in the forest outside of the Alucard Manor. The tree unfortunate enough to be next to him was the victim of his rage in the moment, receiving a punch and combined with his power, immediately froze over, the bark becoming rock solid and the leaves turning brittle like ice cubes.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who was responsible for it. He already knew even without being told. The only question was how. How the hell did he break free from the Mind Eater? Even if this was Terumi, he couldn't think of a single way he was able to break Nine of all people's spell. That didn't matter though, what was done was done. More importantly, he had some questions that needed answers, and only one person could give them to him.

With a teleport, Six was at the doorstep of a small house in the outskirts of Ishana. He didn't bother to knock, it was rather likely he was already being expected. He opened the door and the person he was looking for was expectedly there, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the center of the living room.

There sat a woman, a tad bit older than Six. Her face was largely covered in a midnight black veil that ran down the length of her body and flowed onto the floor behind her. Her aura was that of emptiness. Apathy, even. Yet beneath the facade, she was rather intrigued about how this interaction might turn out.

"You've come", she stated plainly. She'd known that he was going to, and she had a pretty good idea why. She needed no power to figure it out.

Six crossed his arms, his patience already being considerably worn. Four was no longer deserving of any formalities, as far as he was concerned. He cut straight to the chase.

"So you kept silent again. And once more other people are paying for that."

"Whatever do you speak of?"

"Don't you even think of trying to play oblivious, it's not going to save you this time." Six pointed an accusatory finger at his colleague.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re falling like flies out here as of late. One got eaten up by the Black Beast like a corn chip, Eight was killed by the weapons that were supposed to protect us, Seven’s gone AWOL, Clavis of all people dropped dead, and now…”

Six had to stop for a bit, taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep his composure. Six was only getting more exasperated the more he spoke, it was clear in his body language. He gestured around with his hands one by one as whilst listing the situation Ishana and the world at large found itself in, each movement unconsciously letting out a small gust of chilly air. His magic was starting to grow just as agitated as he was. “...Now four of the Six Heroes, two of which were among our own, are now wandering about in the Boundary who knows where… and yet again here you are, doing nothing about it.”

Under all the veils, she's smiling during the first half of Six's confrontation. He's snappy, he's interesting... until he directs the blame for all of this onto her. How childish.

"I'm a noncombatant." A simple, to the point answer, as if it absolves her of all culpability. As if somehow Six had simply forgotten that, and everything will be all right now that she's pointed out the obvious. He wasn't buying that though, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“And that’s your excuse? Your excuse to watch and let people die? Your lack of frontline capabilities and the limitations on your powers to do nothing? You couldn’t have spoken up? You simply let things start falling apart because it’s inconvenient to your abilities?” 

Before a response could be formulated, he turned his head away for a moment, scoffing. Now that the words had actually escaped his mouth he realized how redundant it sounded. “Who am I kidding, of course it is. You already let millions die with that excuse when you said nothing about the Black Beast. We let you off because your intel was useful, but now you seem to think your work is done. Now that the Beast isn't at risk of knocking on your doorstep anymore apparently you're of the idea that nothing matters."

“Was that not the state of the world at large for years, Six,” Four inquired calmly and matter-of-factly. “All that death you're so concerned about, that has simply become a way of life now. That's what happens in war. We lost Nine, but she saved countless. She's a hero. She served her role... you're just taking it personally because you wanted to fuck her."

Oh hell no.

His head dipped down, the shadow of his hat covering his face. The only thing peering from under the cloak of darkness was a single pale blue light. The fury in its brightness was clear as a winter afternoon sky, the cold aura that emanated from it contrasted with the unusual raging hot fury that gripped Six’s psyche and refused to let go. Six wasn’t like Nine, he was above raising his voice. He didn’t need to, the tone he spoke with more than conveyed his emotions. Calm, yet venomous, bitingly cold. He had more than one way of making others freeze in their tracks.

"You want to run that by me again, by chance?"

His cloak and hat fluttered in the wind. The icy, cloudy air that now permeated the room and formed crystals of ice at his feet, sending chills down Four's spine. If she couldn’t find a way out of this, her only choice left against the enraged ice-clad angel, or demon, depending on who was asked, would be to pick a god and pray. Even then, they might not be able to save her now.

The heaviness of the situation began to creep in on her, both figuratively and literally. Normally it would excite her, the entertainment a tempting prospect to play with. Though now she realized perhaps she'd extinguished that possibility now. There was no way even she could escape the fury of the Frost Angel, as some had taken to calling him. The fact she'd even gotten this far now meant she now needed a way out, lest she be extinguished as well.

Thankfully, she just happened to have the perfect ace in her sleeve.

"You think I wouldn't have seen your feelings for her by now? It's why you're acting up like this. It's quite unusual for you. You think she's dead."

The light dimmed, a good sign. "What...? What are you trying to say?"

"Did you honestly believe someone like Nine would fall victim to the Boundary? She's perfectly alive and well, just not right now."

The bright blue light narrowed, Six evidently squinting his eyes in suspicion as if she'd gone crazy. "You're telling me that someone is capable of surviving the Boundary? The place of infinite Seithr, where the Black Beast came from? That Boundary? Are you going to tell me that Terumi will come back and start a non-profit charity next?"

The clairvoyant's body racked slightly with a silent laughter, the most emotion she'd shown in a while. She couldn't lie and say that his snappiness wasn't amusing when he wasn't apparently holding back the urge to freeze her solid. "Come now, Six. Let's not be unrealistic here."

Despite the sheer amount of palpable irony, the words died in Six's throat, in contrast to the indifference Four had shown to...well, just about everything. Surviving the Boundary...was that truly possible? He did suppose if anyone was capable of it, it was Nine. And as much as he preferred not to admit, Four had yet to lead astray with her visions.

The light didn't go away completely, but it was clear her strategy was working. "...Where?"

Now this was getting interesting. Four hummed to herself in focus, peering into the future where she saw Nine again. The veils she wore hid her visions from his sight. "...About 85 years into the future, give or take. You could potentially make it there if you took your own chance in the Boundary."

Six could only fall silent. So Nine really was out there? But so far into the future. Attempting to go through the Boundary did seem like his only real chance, but that chance was so miniscule, even for him. Even if he did make it out in one piece, there was no guarantee he'd even make it to where he needs to go.

Four sensed his hesitation, capitalizing on it to shake his resolve as much as possible. "Surely you can pull this off, can't you? You're a Great Sage yourself, one of the youngest to ever do it. Such a painful loss you had to go through...Jubei came and swooped her up before you could get the chance to tell her how you feel, they get married, have a child, only for her to be taken away. Do you not see that as an injustice?"

"I-..." Six turned his head away, the feelings he'd tried to hide deep down for years at this point rising to the surface. His mind played back the promise he'd made to himself all that time ago now, when he'd become Nine's equal, when he'd finally proven himself to her and the rest of Ishana. When the hat was put on his head for the first time.

'Whatever happens, no matter what I need to do, I'll do it. I'd freeze the sun over if it meant keeping her dream alive.'

Four knew she was inside his head now. She was almost out of the woods. "If she's sent so far in time, now's your perfect chance. You can finally make up for such tragedy. You truly deserved better, Six, and you can get it. All you have to do is take that leap of faith forward. That is what people do for love, is it not?"

It didn't take long after that to figure out what she was trying to do. She'd gone into self-preservation mode. Both of them were acutely aware of their power dynamic. If Six was more of the brutish type he could easily dispatch the other Sage. Instead, he simply turned on his heel, his back facing Four now.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Four. You're in no position to lecture me on loss. You’ve never experienced it for yourself. That feeling truly only comes when what you’ve lost is something you love more than yourself. I’m rather doubtful that someone like that comes to mind for you.”

The frost and crystals that had begun to permeate the room disappeared in a flash of blue light. There was nothing more for him to say, but plenty to think about. "Next time we see each other again, you're going to pay for all the blood that rests on your hands. There's a price for every sin, sloth included."

With that final warning, he warped away. Now alone, Four allowed herself a small, yet excited smile. She could see it; he was about to do something. Jump into the cauldron? Set off to simply survive the march of time? She couldn't see it, nor what he intended to do when they met. There was only one thing she was truly sure of.

"I look forward to it...Nivalis."

~~~

The sixth of the Great Sages found himself at the Cauldron hidden deep beneath Ishana. His face had gone back to normal staring into the gateway as he pondered Four's words...and the possibility that Nine was waiting on the other side.

Could he really pull something like that off? Swim through an endless abyss full of nothing but Seithr? It sounded absolutely ludicrous, but Four had confirmed it was possible. He didn't have a reason to doubt it. She was many things, but dishonest had never been one of them for as long as he'd known her.

"I do hope you aren't thinking of actually jumping. It'd be a terrible waste to die attempting such a fool's errand."

Six's head perked up suddenly, having been shaken out of his thoughts. He'd been caught red-handed. And by a very familiar voice, no less. The girlish, posh voice was one that someone didn't simply forget.

"Surely you have much more valuable uses of your time than to stare into that old thing. Such thoughts of attempting Boundary travel in the first place should be beneath someone of your stature."

Six sighed forlornly, the whirlwind in his mind was clear as day for anyone to see. "It's Four...she told me-"

"She told you that Nine is still out there, isn't she?"

He properly turned around now to face Rachel, his eyes widened. "How did you...?"

The vampire allowed herself a small, smug giggle. "I do happen to have a few tricks of my own."

Vague as ever, he noticed. He knew it'd be a waste of time to try and get her to elaborate. He looked back between her and the Cauldron a few times before his gaze landed on her once more.

"If it's really true...then what do you think I should do?"

Rachel closed her eyes at the thought, seeming to think, or at least pretending to as her smile disappeared.

"Must you need me to tell you everything? Why you're one of the Great Sages, for crying out loud. The greatest cryomancer this world has ever seen. Surely you can figure out the answer on your own."

She stopped though for a moment, humming in thought. "...Although I suppose an emotion such as love can indeed cloud the mind. What do you currently believe to be the correct course of action?"

That stuck out to him. The feelings he had for Nine were indeed impairing his better judgment. He had Four to thank for that. He needed to take a step back and truly think about what he should do.

Terumi...the one responsible for everything. It was his fault that she, Trinity, and Hakumen were unjustly taken from him. It was him that needed to pay, however he didn't know if and when he would ever pop up again.

His mind started racing. Confronting the true culprit should be priority number one, but he didn't know where, or specifically when to start. He needed a reliable way to last long enough, but what? Rachel did have a point, his ice magic was second to none, surely he could-

That's it...

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Rachel's voice once more, apparently he'd been silent for longer than he anticipated. "Six? Earth to Six. Are you even paying attention?"

He shook his head, snapping back to reality and recollecting himself. "O-Oh, yes. Sorry, Miss Rachel."

"Perhaps by chance you were taking my words to heart and came up with the solution?"

For the first time since Nine had been banished to the Boundary, Six allowed himself a smile, though small it may have been. He nodded in confirmation. "Yes, I have."

He vanished in a flash of light as he teleported away, only to come back before Rachel could fully register that he'd left a few seconds later. In his hands was a glass ball that he held out for her to take. The ball looked and felt a bit comically large in her tiny, pale hands.

"I'm going into hiding, use that whenever you need to find me again. I'll be waiting." With that Six began making his way out of the cathedral, leaving Rachel alone with her new artifact. The magic she sensed inside had his fingerprints all over it, he definitely made it himself. For what purpose originally, she couldn't tell, but now it was for her to have.

Her bright crimson eyes peered deep into the ball, trying to look past the fog inside that was preventing the transparency it should have. It cleared up as she looked into it, showing her Six walking outside and into Ishana's town square.

So that's what it was...

~~~

There was one more person to find before he could enact his plan. He left the larger city of Ishana and into the forest surrounding the city. There wasn't much so this wouldn't be hard. After some walking, he came to a stop.

"So, how much longer do you plan on just standing there?"

A familiar figure came out from the shadows, a rather short one, though one that Six damn well knew not to take lightly, at least if it was an enemy.

"You've been gettin' better, kid. Color me impressed."

"Well, I had the privilege of learning from many of the best."

He recognized the look on Jubei's face. Behind the friendly attitude, he was just as devastated over their current circumstances as he was.

"Hey, about Nine, I..."

"Just save it, Six." Jubei's mood immediately dropped at the mention of Nine. At this point he just felt...done. Done with the loss, done with the pity, no matter how genuine it might've been.

"No, I'm not here to offer my condolences. I'm sure you already have enough of those to go around. I need to give you something."

"Give me something? What might that be?"

Six had already given his enchanted tracking ball to Rachel, so the next thing to give was a test tube with a crimson liquid inside.

"Use this when the time's right, just pour it onto the ground and it'll lead you right to me, at least when you're close enough."

"Lead to you?" The beastkin was understandably confused. "Where are you headin' off to now, kid?"

"You'll find out eventually. Rachel will know what to do. Just...promise me something. Take good care of that kid for me, alright? She's all we got left of Nine. I'd do it myself, but...it was you she chose."

He had to hold back his tongue, refraining from saying anything more out of jealousy, or perhaps even animosity. He didn't want any of the latter to be between him and Jubei. He had respect for everything he'd done, both for him and the world at large. Jealous? Well who wouldn't be jealous of the person who'd stolen the only person they'd fallen for away, but he couldn't fault Jubei for his own shortcoming of taking the leap. He turned around and started making his way back to Ishana to make the last of his preparations.

Jubei's eye widened to double its normal size as he put two and two together. He stared blankly at his comrade's back as he returned to the city, emotions inside him conflicting left and right at the revelation. A bit of shock, a lot of intrigue, a bit of concern, a bit of guilt.

"Wait, kid, I-..."

The words seemed to completely leave Jubei as Six stopped looked back at him.

"Don't feel bad about it, you just did what I couldn't do myself. All I want you to do is keep that promise."

There were so many things Jubei wanted to say. He wanted to defend himself, he wanted to console Six, perhaps apologize to him. His throat clenched up, and there was only one thing he could muster up the strength to say.

"...I promise."

"Then we're even." The Sage turned back around toward Ishana before his emotions started running too high. Before his resolve could waver. It couldn't, not now.

"Wake me when you need me."