#and thank you to the kind soul who wrote a step by step instruction on how respond

[the-xolotl]

Worshiping At His Feet

Alastor x fem!Reader

⟢ a/n: i actually wrote half of this about 2-3 weeks ago and kinda left it to collect dust ^^, but here it is !! for my oral fixation bitches <33 i was listening to Rule 34 by Fish in a Birdcage and it was the perfect inspiration tee-hee.

summary: i don't have a quirky summary this time; you suck Al's dick lol

⟢ CW: service sub reader, cock worship (m receiving), no use of y/n, terms of endearment, praise, throat fucking, erotic asphyxiation, subspace, cumming untouched, leg/shoe humping, Al’s dick is like 9" in this one besties, reader w a long tongue.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT. Thank you~

Alastor’s eyes raked over your trembling form kneeling before him with amusement and curiosity. The Radio Demon currently had you sitting on your thighs, bare from head to toe save for the green-glowing collar around your neck and the chain he currently has curled around his hand. Yet, your trembles weren’t from fear nor were you cold. No, the smell of arousal that tickled his nose is proof enough to let him know you’re the furthest thing from scared. There isn’t a sign of embarrassment or even shyness on your body as his red ruby eyes bore over every inch of your skin.

If anything, you sit with poise and elegance. Perfectly submitting to your figurative and literal place beneath him and wearing it with a straight back and puffed chest hints of pride in your position. You were writhing with anticipation; your little trembles came from the sheer excitement. You reminded him of an excited puppy, wiggling in delight, waiting to eat out of their master’s hand. Alastor couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased with this little display of obedience and devotion.

He has given you simple instructions: Strip, kneel, stay, sit still. Do not speak unless spoken to. And to your credit, you are doing just that. The twitches and shakes of arousal were somewhat out of your control. He knew you couldn’t help being a bitch in heat in his presence. Even still, you weren’t sitting still like he ordered. Your big eyes fixated on his own, waiting for your next instructions.

“Darling, what were your orders?” his velvety voice crooned, the radio filter crackling with his tone’s low notes.

You felt your eyebrow twitch and your heart pound against your ribcage. The Radio Demon doesn’t have you repeat instructions unless you missed a step or didn’t follow them correctly. Alastor is gracious enough to give you a singular chance at correcting yourself before punishment is dished out. “Strip, kneel, stay, sit still. Do not speak unless spoken to,” speaking with an even tone, struggling to keep your voice from trembling. He gave your collar a light tug, just enough to remove slack. You audibly swallowed, feeling your chest tighten at the pull of your very soul.

“Good pet,” he purred, “So fix it.” That’s all he offered. Leaving you confused, the words echoed repeatedly in your head, trying to find the mistake. Alastor’s smile grew impossibly big as the lost expression edged into your face. He was already kind enough to give you a hint. It’s your job now to figure it out. He had time.

Meanwhile, you readjusted yourself, planting your weight further into your calves and placing your palms at ease over your thighs. You had the urge to run a thumb along your flesh soothingly, feeling your thighs shaking, so you did. And that’s when it clicked. Sit still.

You stop immediately, your body going rigid, and flick your gaze to Alastor again, who has an approving glint in his eyes. The corner of your lips twitches upwards, and your heart flutters again, this time at his silent approval.

“That’s it. Good job,” Alastor praised extending his hand towards you. You lean in immediately resting your cheek on his palm, relishing in the warmth of his captivating touch. “Come closer, dear. You’re allowed to rest your hands on my lap.”

Alastor uncrossed his legs to allow you to slot yourself between them. Still knelt, you didn’t hesitate to let your hands come up to his legs. Your hands glided across his clothed thighs with a feather-light touch before they settled at the apex of them resting them there. With his hand still on your cheek, he tilted your head back, “You’re going to service me now. I’m going to use your mouth, and you’re going to let me,” his thumb ran over your bottom lip, “Understand, little one?”

Alastor saw your eyes light up like stars; he chuckled at you. “Yes, Sir,” you responded already with a breathy voice.

“Take me out.” He ordered. Wordlessly, you look up at him again once his pants have been undone, asking for permission. He lifted his hips, allowing you to drag his pants and underwear down to pool at his ankles. Now, with his half-hard shaft resting on his hip, your mouth watered. Lust flowed through your veins like a good liquor, slowly warming you. You couldn’t help but lick your lips and bite down on your bottom lip.

Your pheromones came off you in waves, permeating the air around you both. Alastor has a sensitive nose. While he wouldn’t admit it, your arousal alone had already caused a reaction in his body. His idea was to have you work him hard, but your eager responses had already done half the job for you.

The hand on your cheek came to grab hold of the back of your head, bringing your face centimeters from his hardening cock. You could see the bead of pre-cum already forming at the tip. Making your breath hitch and swallow back a needy noise.

“Use your tongue to get me hard, pretty pet,” he instructed, “Go slow, and don’t use your hands until I let you.” You nodded, your tongue already lolling out to drag the wet muscle across the entirety of his length; tongue swirling around the tip before wrapping itself around half his cock. You used your long tongue to your advantage, using it to stroke him in long, languid pumps. Alastor sighed a hum as you worked him and your lips sucked harder on the tip before taking him further in.

Just as instructed, you went slowly. You found a pace at which you bob your head up and down taking another inch at each downward suck. Alastor rewarded you by running his long fingers through your hair and audibly low moans of your name, his grip on the chain tightening when he felt his tip hit the back of your throat. You moaned then already feeling your mouth so full but still having at least half his dick to fit down your waiting throat. Without skipping a beat you sank your lips further on his shaft without breaking eye contact. The vibration sends a delightful shiver up Alastor’s back earning you a quiet good girl.

“So eager aren’t we, love?” he twitches in your mouth, “You look so pretty with those lips stretched around me like that,” Alastor can make sinful words sound so pretty with the way he coos down at you with his transatlantic accent. The praise makes your thighs clench tightly together, your fingers digging into the meat of his thighs to resist the urge to touch yourself. This makes Alastor chuckle and use the side of his foot to tap your knees to separate them. A little whine is muffled by his length being stuffed in your mouth but you look at him pleadingly. A smug expression crosses his features as he brings a leg between yours pressing the back of his shoe against your dripping sex. “Grind. If you need touch that badly this is all you’re getting until you’ve made me cum.”

Your back arches and cheeks become increasingly hotter as the blush reaches your ears. It’s a humiliating act to dirty his shoes in such a way, yet, your hips immediately rock down bumping his leg and holding on even tighter to him. Your concentration wanes on your main task becoming sloppier, and more messy with drool dripping from the corners of your back and down the rest of his cock that isn't already inside your mouth. Moans become louder and more frequent even as your throat becomes more occupied the bigger he swelled. The smallest mercy you’re granted is your lack of a gag reflex allowing you to take him deeper with better ease but that’s being challenged by the way his cock is obstructing your breathing while Alastor is digging the top of his shoe into your puffy clit.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes struggling to keep up, vision going in and out. Both from the tears and the lack of air going into your head. But you are so set on being a good girl, you could never disappoint your master. The deer demon could see your struggle but said nothing, delighting himself in watching your eyes roll back and eyelids drooping, your grip is also beginning to slack. Alastor laughed pulling you off his cock by the phantom collar and holding your face to make you look directly at him, “Breathe; take a deep breath, my dear. You can’t pass out yet,” he said as he tapped your cheek lightly and wiped the saliva off your mouth. “Such a mess and we’ve only just gotten started.”

There are dark spots in your vision and you’re fighting to blink them away taking sharp breaths through your nose. Your mind feels foggy and a little airy already and there’s a slight ringing in your ears. “That’s it, my love, stay with me,” a warm hand delicately cradled your cheek brushing a thumb over your bottom lip, “Such good girl for me.” It tickled your insides every time he spoke to you with such softness with the undertones of condescension, it brought a smile to your face to hear his acclamation of your work.

“I’ll allow you a break, use your hands,” his hand leaves your face to help you bring your trembling fingers around his pulsing hardness. He guided your hands up and down his shaft, “You know how to please me, don’t you pretty girl?” he tapped the back of his shoe against your folds again sending a jolt through your entire body making your hips buck.

“Yes, Sir, everything— anything— for you,” you pant out through little keens. So eager for your Master, the owner of your heart, mind, and soul. You were surrendered to this demon with every fiber of your being. There isn't an inch of you that doesn't belong to him. With a pleased grin he lets go of your hands allowing you to keep going on your own, your strokes remain long and languid and you can't help but let your eyes fall to watch your hands that can barely wrap around them go up and down. Alastor hisses as you tease and press into the tip to collect the bead of pre-cum that formed.

"Be careful what you wish for, little love," voice dropping ever lower to a more sensual tone, radio filter straining and crackling, "You might just get what you ask for and not realize it's more than you've bargained for." The devil danced in his eyes as he spoke leaning down to meet your gaze, your breath hitched but a mischievous grin tugged your lips to match his own.

"I can take it," you whisper, eye flicking down to his lips momentarily, "And if I can't, make me," your confidence excited him, made him crave you in sensual ways as much as you craved him. He stole your lips in an intense kiss, and your lips collided when he tugged you forward by the collar. He devours your lips like he is going to eat you whole. Your hands sped up on his cock making him moan into the kiss, noises are more than happy to swallow down greedily. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth exploring it, rubbing and pushing against your wet muscle in a sinful dance. It made you mewl back into his mouth melting into his lips.

"Let's test your resolve then, shall we?" he pulled away breathlessly, a string of saliva still connecting your lips. Your head is still reeling and you barely notice the tentacles that wrap around your thighs and bring both of your hands behind your back, he removes his leg from between your legs and stands up from his chair. You look up at Alastor with falling tears already rolling down your cheeks. "Open up, ma chère," you obey without a second thought, tongue lolling out. Alastor drags his thick cock over your open lips, rubbing up and down over your warm tongue then lightly tapping his cock over your face teasingly. You pull against your restraints already missing your hands over his body.

"Beg," he orders still teasing your mouth. His smile turned right down devilish hearing moan just from his words.

"Please, Master? I need your cock in my mouth, I want it so bad," big doe eyes looked at him with tears, "Let me have your cock down my pretty throat," you say with desperation batting your lashes and opening your mouth wider. "I'll be a good girl, I promise. Let me service you. I want to make you feel good," you lean to press your cheek against his pelvis cock hanging right in front of you but didn't dare lick or kiss just yet, not before giving you explicit permission.

Without another word, he cradles your face letting go of the chain, collar disappearing completely when he did so, and shoving his cock into your mouth in one go. He groaned demonically when your throat constricted around him. There's still a good inch or two of him you hadn't managed to fit in yet, "Make me, you said, mon ange?" your eyes widen from both fear and excitement. Adrenaline pumped rapidly through your veins as you held his gaze, heart beat like a drum against your ribcage in anticipation. Alastor almost looked apologetic as he pulled out to the tip slowly, teasingly then held both sides of your head to thrust into your mouth. Radio static buzzes through the air and his eyes flash radio dials.

"Ḿ̶̛̲̩͓̤̗̘͒͊̌e̷̟̼̳̼̭̿̾͋͒̐̿͌r̵̥͔͈͉̤͝d̴̯̞̙͚͆͗̈̋̔͘̕e̴̥͉̦̒̓͒̇̊̒͜͝ͅ," he cursed quietly, one hand tightening on your hair making you wince. The first thrust is nearly successful and he holds you there for a few long moments letting you adjust. One of his hands slides down to press the bulge that his cock is making in your throat and gently caressing it. He's so fucking big in your mouth and so long you doubted you'd be able to take all of him. More tears stream down your face quickly running out of air as he holds you down. "So close, almost there, my dear. L̸͕̔e̷̦̕t̸̮̏'̴̹͝s̵̠͂ ̴͜͠t̴̙͗r̴̘̽ÿ̶͙́ ̷̱̆ȁ̵̭g̷̨̈́a̷̧̎i̵̝̐ñ̴̻." Once again he pulled out but didn't give you time to breathe barely sneaking in one deep gasp.

He thrusts harshly into the heat of your mouth, pushing your head down in the process this time. You yelp and moan as your nose graces the tuff or coarse hair at the base of his length, writhing and squirming Alastor bows and arches his back over you, "So t̸̜͐ĭ̴̹g̶̹͌h̶̯͐t̴̟͝ ̸͔̏ã̶͍n̶̥̑d̸̢̈ ̴̦͑ẉ̷̐a̷̢̛r̵̼͆m̸̧̾, you're perfect." his voice is rough and the radio filter keeps switching in and out. The radio demon sets a brutal pace fucking into you, "Keep those pretty lips open, dear." Alastor gives you no mercy not letting you breathe between thrusts. Soon you're feeling woozy, your jaw slacking allowing Alastor to slide in and out more easily.

"That's it, you're mine. Aren't you, sweet thing? All mine," words coming out between pants and moans, "Let go, forget everything outside of these four walls and sounder to me, my dear." Your moans die at your throat completely muffled by this cock. As the seconds pass you feel less and less present laying yourself at his hands. No more coherent thoughts form in your brain, he relishes the way your body shakes and how your eyes roll back every time he bottoms out. You can tell the lack of air is getting to you; you feel faint, your jaw hurts, your chest feels tight, and your knees are possibly bruising but all your thoughts are of Alastor and the way he's ravishing you. How much do you enjoy being used as his little cock-sleeve. You gladly take anything he gives you with no questions asked, and he knows that too.

He only slows down when he feels his orgasm build and coil, so he removes himself from your mouth. You gasp so desperately that you're wheezing to let air into your burning lungs. Shadows dance across the walls and floor seemly also pleased with your performance. "Such a good girl, you know how to please your master." There's adoration behind those words and you feel elated. A rush of euphoria zooms across your body, and whines bubble up in your chest but only come out as broken sobs.

"You've trained me so well, Sir, only for you," your voice is scratchy and barely audible from the abuse to your vocal cords yet you still have stamina to keep going. Deposite the fact that there’s a buzzing in your head and the ringing in your ears has only gotten louder and you’re incapable of thinking outside of sucking off Alastor you’re ready to swallow him down again. Even through the ache that has settled in your body from being forced into a single position for such a long time you’re impatiently waiting to get face fucked again. Your cheeks sting slightly from the tears too, as a few more stays roll down the redden skin.

“You want more, don’t you?” Alastor pets the top of your hair softly, you nod tiredly. “You deserve a reward for such a wonderful performance, come here sweetheart,” his tentacles release their hold on you finally letting you touch him again. Immediately your hand comes up to grab a hold of his hips caressing and appreciating the soft short fur. Alastor guided his cock back into your waiting mouth immediately sinking in with a moan of your name. You brace yourself with hands on his thighs for his brutal pace and relaxing your jaw as much as you can for him. Just being used for his own pleasure brought you to such heights of ecstasy you’re able to get off in it, he didn’t even need to touch you.

The familiar coil in your abdomen tightens as the sounds pour off his lips and his fat cock slides in and out of your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin and nice pressing against his pelvis. “So close, darling, you’ll get your reward soon,” his radio filter glitches out. Once again his shadows grow taller, antlers extend and his smile strains as he takes harsh breaths in through his nose. He moans loudly through gritted teeth, thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier. It’s hard to say if you’re still breathing properly by the time you feel Alastor’s warm cum pouring into your throat. Alastor with his hand cradling the back of your head pushes himself all the way inside your mouth as he fills you up. Your whole body twitches and you choke a moan when your orgasm hit you right after his. Your juices make a puddle on the floor and cover your thighs.

He’s still coming but you’ve run out of breath before he pulls out, your vision blacks out and your limp body slumps against his legs. Alastor picks you up bridal style and pressures you close to him, still catching his breath. “You did so good my doe, so perfect,” he whispered next to your ear and murmuring small apologies for overexerting you. He’d worry about the mess on the floor later, so he carried you to the bathroom on the other side of his bedroom, nudging the ajar door open. Without letting you out of his embrace he lets water run into the bath, littering your cheek and forehead with kisses while waiting for the tub to fill up.

It’s not long after that you finally come back to, slowly, groggily and already in the warm water while Alastor has your back resting against his chest. You slowly blink the drowsiness from your eyes, too tired to move your body, you accept the fact you probably blacked out, it’s not the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Alastor asked softly, arms sliding under the wanted to wrap around your middle. He rested shit chin on your shoulder snuggling closer to you. Endearing how gentle he is after sex; the harder he is on you the sweeter the aftercare.

“My jaw aches, my knees hurt,” your voice comes out huskier than usual, “My voice is going to be fucked for a few days. But… I’m more than satisfied,” you turn your head to lay a sweet kiss on his lips. “Let’s get washed up so we can go to bed. I’m exhausted after our little tryst,” you giggle pressing your forehead to his, he chuckles along with you sharing a little intimate moment and a few more kisses before actually getting clean and stepping out of the shower to retire to bed, nice and warm cuddled and tangled up in each other as lovers do.

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[not-blonde-barbie]

Your blog honestly give me life! The tags are amazing too! What fics are your most recommended right now?

Hi! Oh, thank you so much! I'm still figuring out exactly what I’m doing here so it's so nice to hear that you're enjoying it! Those are my most recent favorites (in a no particular order and I’m sure I’m forgetting someone anyway!) all those writers don’t need presentation and are so incredibly and genuinely talented! I highly suggest checking out all their phenomenal works!

Literally everything by @animmortalist who is so talented! For some works read carefully the tags because she treats a series of delicate subjects but in my humble opinion she does it in an exceptional way! If you enjoy angst, complex character, unexpected pairing (Rock Bottom and Love is the best thing we do feature some amazing Clurphy!), and amazing stories as setting those could be the works you're looking for!

If you're a fan of comfort/hurt go for the amazing stories of @jasperjoordan! Iva is an incredible writer! You'll cry and suffer but it will be definitely worth it! Once again be mindful of the tags for sensible subjects, but the way she touches them is really remarkable! If you enjoy pain (the good kind!), deep characters, and emotional rollercoaster she has your back!

If you love kid fics, fluff, and romance with a bit of angst and hotness give a shoot to the Rom-Com series and other incredible stories by @nakey-cats-take-bathsss! All her stories are so brilliant! If you're having a bad day the cuteness in them will make it better for sure!

EVERYTHING from @burninghoneyatdusk the author is absolutely incredible! From the world-building to the characters everything is so perfect! The stories are so original and interesting (and often feature all my favorite tropes!) you'll feel immediately involved in them and they will blow you away! I absolutely adore them all! If you're in for an emotional crazy ride those stories are definitely something you could enjoy!

The Buoyant Heart by @excuseyouclarke  is so engaging! The story is built amazingly, every chapter leaves me like “Wait, what? And now?” and definitely super excited for more! The author is so great! I also highly recommend Dysfunctional families (and other reasons to keep secrets) that’s just so funny and wholesome and just utterly amazing! And Red Sky At Night! I just started it and still have to finish but definitely recommended!

Finding North and For Blue Skies by @kombellarke I'm catching up on the other works of this amazing author but those two already own my heart! The chemistry between Bellarke is described so well that will be impossible not to fall in love with those two! All the emotions, the stories' settings are just so good and the writing so stunning, love those stories so much!

Moved By You by @dayo488 now not only this story features Grounder!Bellamy (that is one of my favorite things of all time!) but also serves found family excellence, an incredible story and don’t let me start on the absolutely stunning writing! The author is truly amazing and this story is an absolutely gem!

Paint me in trust by @pawprinterfanfic this story is absolute perfection! And it’s not only the Harry Potter lover in me talking! The author is so crazy talented they took a well-known universe and still manage to create something so original and unique! The story and the characters' dynamics are just so great! And the writing absolutely gorgeous!

I've Learned in Love and Death We Don't Decide by @grumpybell the angst/comfort, the fluff this story really has everything and I loved it so much! The author is so amazing! The story is so beautiful, the writing absolutely flawless and the characters' dynamics so interesting! Absolutely adored it and I’m planning on catching up on the author’s other works!

Say my name (wear it out like a sweater) by @talistheintrovert, once again my heart is weak for Grounder!Bellamy but add badass leader Clarke, a baby, and an arranged marriage and here we have this absolute gem! Loving this story so so so much! From the world-building to the characters' interaction and the flawless writing this story is just wonderful and the author so great and talented!

Totally everything by @carrieeve I still have to catch up on the most recent works but everything the author writes is pure gold! The writing is so amazing and engaging and the stories so original! Absolutely love them all!

Again everything by @changingthefairy-tale Canon? Modern? Whatever you’re looking for you will probably find it here and you’ll be in for an incredible ride! The author is an incredible writer and all her stories are so beautiful, engaging, and utterly great!

Once again everything by @eyessharpweaponshot just the talent! All stories are so interesting, beautiful, original, and engaging, they really have everything! You’ll be in for an incredible emotional rollercoaster!

A special mention to There’s a Serpent Lying Deep Down in These Still Waters by @shaeheda, I still have to read it but I’m already utterly in love with the premise so I can only imagine how incredible this story is and can’t wait to have the time to finally read it!

Skate the line with me (let's fall in love) by andromedabennet on AO3 I absolutely love ice skating and this story is so great! The slow-burning, the tension, the setting, and last but not last the great writing make this story so amazing!

The Void Between Us by bardicMutterings on AO3 setting on the Ark, enemies to lovers with an arranged marriage in the mix, do I need to say anything else? This story is absolutely so great! I love how the author is building the Bellarke relationship and the whole setting is so good!

In The Hall Of The Mountain King by winterseasalt on AO3 is just two chapters in but already SO good! The story is so original, the premise super interesting and the writing great! Definitely worth checking!

How You Remind Me by eirallina on AO3 this story is SO good! Modern AU featuring actors!Bellarke serving enemies to lover in a great slow-burn way! And extra points for the Harry Potter references!

Until now I took for granted that you were asking for Bellarke related works but if by any chance you love/like/enjoy Memori you can’t miss out on the incredible works by @mobi-on-a-mission and @queenemori they’re both SO talented and all their stories are absolutely AMAZING!

Those are my most recent recommendations, please let me know if you find something that catches your attention! And if not I highly recommend to check out @bellarkefic-for-blm here on Tumblr, a group of the most ICONIC writers/content creators come together for a great cause and will make sure to make the fic of your dreams come true for a donation (no matter what amount!) in support of the BLM movement!

[rodeo-clowns]

Hi! I’m so happy your writing for Sarah Sanderson! Do you think you can write a thing about Sarah falling in love with the female reader… who’s apart of Becca’s friend group? Thank you!! :)

She's My Witch

Sarah Sanderson x fem!reader

A/N: Ty for requesting this, I hope it was to your satisfaction! I had to age up the character to 20 bc Becca and her friends are all 16 and I don’t think Sarah Sanderson should see 16-year-olds romantically even if she's from the 1600s. Sorry if this seems to drag on and if some things are exact to what happened, wrote this on my lunch break and I have a bad memory.  Also sorry this took so long my computer stopped working for a bit.

Word Count: This is 993 words, my biggest fanfic yet!

Warnings: Kissing, mentions of smut but nothing actually happens in the text, unproofread writing.

It was Halloween again, your favorite time of year. Not just because it was one of your best friend's birthdays, but because it meant that you could dress as spookily as you wanted and no one could say a thing, especially since you lived in Salem, Massachusetts. At this very moment, you were in Olde Salem Magic Shoppe looking for new crystals to buy when Becca and Izzy came into the shop. 

“Hey, guys!” You shouted, walking over to hug the birthday girl. You gave her a tight squeeze but noticed that she had a sad look on her face. “Oh no,” you said, turning to Izzy, “is she still upset over Cassie’s party?” Izzy looked at you with a look that said “duh!”

“We both are,” she sighed. 

“And so should you!” Becca said. You sighed, bringing them both in for a tight side hug. 

“Listen, guys…These kinds of things just happen, just wait until the party is over and she’ll realize that it was pointless to spend Halloween without you two.” You said, attempting to reassure them. That just made them look even more depressed. You sighed, “listen, I have to go feed my cats but I’ll be sure to stop by the woods just in time for our little yearly ritual!” That made them seem happy, knowing that you were still there for them. 

~That same night - the forbidden forest ~

You, Becca, and Izzy were sat in a triangle around a black candle. The full moon was out and you were starting to feel weirded out by the woods. You watch Becca light the candle and together, the three of you recite your usual birthday ritual. Once it's done you zone out, trying to not feel creeped out by being in the woods at night. You can hear Becca and Izzy bickering, something about the candle not blowing out. 

“Excuse me?” You say, “what do you mean the candle’s not blowing out just pour water on it!” Becca follows your instruction, pouring water on the unusual candle before it lights back up, leaving the three of you afraid. You blow it out quickly and begin packing up. The three of you walk a decent few steps before you hear beautiful singing. You start to run and before you know it, you run into three women. Becca and Izzy scream, but you stay mesmerized by the beautiful blonde woman on the left. Suddenly, you realize just who the three of you have run into.

“Holy shit!” You say. “It’s the Sanderson Sisters!

“Yeah, we gathered that!” Yelled Becca, slowly backing away, taking her hand in yours before sprinting away. You didn't make it very far before the sisters showed up in front of the three of you again. Already, they deduced that Becca and Izzy were teens, dismissing you. Well, not all of them dismissed you. The pretty blonde woman kept making eyes at you and even if she was kinda threatening to eat literal children's souls at the moment, you couldn't stop making them back.

You followed the girls as they lead the witches to the local Walgreens, tricking them into believing that skincare products were potions, watching as they gobbled them up. Eventually, they discovered that the three of you were lying and began chasing you around the Walgreens. You managed to escape without any of them noticing when suddenly a beautiful voice whispered in your ear, “where do you think you’re going?” You jumped. It was the blonde Sanderson sister! You recognized her as Sarah from all of your history lessons. 

“Uhh…Nowhere?” You said. She looked at you with a face of disbelief. You sighed.

“Look, please, just… don’t…harm my friends, I just wanna go home.” You said honestly. She looked at you with a teasing look. 

“I don't want your friends,” she said with a breathy tone, leaning in to whisper in your ear again “I want you.” She said, pulling back, smiling at you with a toothy grin. 

“M-Me?” You gasped. “Why?” You questioned. 

“You’re so beautiful why wouldn’t I want you?” She said like it was obvious. You blushed. 

“Wow uhh..Okay then,” you said, grabbing her hand. “You can come with me back to my place.” She seemed elated at that answer. 

“Oh we are going to have so so much fun!” she squealed, pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed back, the two of you entering a make-out session in the middle of the street. When you finally needed some air, you pulled back, smiling at her. 

“Come on.” You said. 

~The next morning~

You and Sarah spent the night together and falling absolutely in love with one another. At the end of the night, you ended up sleeping with each other, the two of you delighting in the bliss of being so close to someone so close to your heart. When you awoke the next day, she was gone. You got up sad and walked to Gilbert’s shop to start your shift. When you reached the door, it was unlocked. You shrugged and walked in to find Gilbert, Becca, Cassie, her boyfriend, and Izzy together standing there looking at you with expressions that read “What the actual fuck!” Confused, you shut the door behind you. “What?” You said, concerned that no one was speaking. Gilbert began to talk but Becca swiftly interrupted him. 

“Could you explain why when we did a summoning spell to bring Sarah Sanderson to the woods she arrived NAKED WHILE HOLDING HER CLOTHES TO HERSELF!?” she yelled. Your eyes widened comically. 

“I-I can explain I-” you stuttered, trying to think of a reasonable explanation when Gilbert began laughing, which prompted you to laugh as well. The girls looked horrified but you couldn't stop thinking of the beautiful blonde woman you spent the night with while crying laughing. You would never really forget her, even if you knew she was gone for good, your beautiful Sarah Sanderson. 

[duskholland]

Ritual || Boxer!Tom Smut

boxer!tom x reader — smut.

summary ↠ with the championship fight less than two weeks away, tom adopts a series of frustrating pre-match rituals.... based off the request ↠ ‘boxer!tom refuses to have sex for two weeks before a big match then he wins a belt and becomes the top boxer and his s/o patches him up like she does after every match, but it quickly turns into really intense victory sex with dom!tom’ I changed a couple bits but this is pretty much the same :)) warnings ↠ this gets very, very smutty. for that reason, 18+ pls !! extended nsfw warnings are beneath the cut but this spirals into v intense smut. so just. watch out pls. word count ↠ 8k a/n ↠ I almost died when I wrote this. truly. I felt a piece of my soul leave my body. sheeeesh. anyway uh... this was a lot of fun to write! I found out so many fun facts about sports psychology whilst researching this, so thanks boxer!tom for enlightening me on the fun world of pre-match-rituals. enjoy!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

extended nsfw warnings: fem masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), mentions of vibrating egg, edging and denial, dirty talk, reader definitely has a pain kink (...): biting, spanking + hair pulling, face-fucking, dom!tom, rough sex™️, shower shenanigans, doggy-style, unprotected sex — please wrap before you tap if you do this irl thank you very very much !!

*:·ﾟ✧Ritual ✧·ﾟ:*

Thump. Smack. Thump.

Tom’s fists rain down over the punching bag, and there’s a metallic clicking sound as the object goes spinning in the air. You watch as he pirouettes around the bag, dodging its movements between swings, getting in hit after hit after hit. He slowly works his way around the object, his face screwed into an expression of empowered determination as he alternates which bright red glove he uses to pound against the fabric.

You sigh, loudly, the sound dying in the near-empty gym. There’s just something about Tom in the days preceding a fight that makes you squirm.

He’s different. Still the man you know and love so effortlessly, but heightened in the most attractive ways. His senses pull sharper, his jaw carrying a firm line to it, his eyes like roaring fires. As Tom pounds his fists against the bag, his sweaty brown curls stick to the top of his forehead, contrasting the bright pink tones staining his cheeks. You watch the muscles in his arms tense and flex, pale skin on display due to the tight black vest that clings tightly to his torso. You know if he turned around properly, you’d be able to make out the sunken lines of his abs, packed rigidly with muscle.

You bite your lower lip, stifling a moan. You find Tom attractive enough under normal conditions, let alone when he’s like this: eyes glowing with determination, body burning with passion as he takes swing after swing at the punching bag like he’s got a personal vendetta against it.

“Having fun?”

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to look at Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s sports psychologist. A frown instantly springs out across your mouth, and you reach up to begrudgingly take the bottle of water he offers you.

“I hate you,” you grunt. You sit up a little straighter before leaning back against the wall. You’re waiting for Tom to finish his workout, sitting on one of the benches in the gym. You’d started out the session sparring together, but you’d called quits after twenty minutes against him. Unlike Tom, you don’t have the biggest fight of your career in two weeks—and, honestly, you enjoy watching him like this more than you enjoy trying to keep up with him in the ring.

Harrison frowns as he drops to sit beside you, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m wounded, love,” he says, smirking at you. “What have I done this time?”

You roll your eyes. “You know exactly what you’ve done, Haz.”

Harrison raises an eyebrow, tutting. “You know this is for the best, Y/N.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Fuck the best.”

When Harrison had joined Tom’s team at the start of the season, he’d come boasting all the new sciences of a young university graduate. He’d suggested Tom adopt a series of rituals to help him focus before a big match—small things, initially, like taking cold showers and limiting the time he spends on his phone. Yet, as the competition has progressed and Tom has risen further and further up the ranks, the rituals have grown more intense, more focused. It’s reached the point that now, two weeks before the big match, Tom has reached his final form. As instructed, he visits the sauna every other day, receives daily massages from the most esteemed sports therapists in Europe, drinks multiple cups of pure, fresh herbal tea a day. There are no distractions—his phone is permanently on silent, he’s cut out naps, he’s eliminated music. No distractions, no impurities, no sex.

No sex, because according to Harrison, nothing gets adrenaline rushing and frustration festering like an extended period of denial. No sex, which is a problem, for you, because Tom has never looked as fit as he does now, launching himself at the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. His biceps flex and bulge and you have to cross your legs as you tighten your grip on the water bottle.

“He’ll win,” Harrison mutters, lowly. You glance towards him, taking in the sight of the older man with his face doused in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “He’s good. Got the best form I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his voice, glancing at you shrewdly. “Don’t distract him, alright? He’s on fire.”

You grumble something incoherent beneath your breath before sighing and sitting up straighter.

“It’s fucked that you get to decide when I get laid, Haz. You know that, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, cheeks blushing a light pink. “Uh, well, I didn’t actually know that he’d go through with that part of it,” Harrison admits. “But if it works, don’t knock it. He wants to win.”

You sit back, resting your shoulders against the wall as you groan. “I want him to win, too,” you say. You look down at your fingers, playing with some of the rings sitting behind your knuckles. “I think it’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

Both of you look back at Tom, who’s ditched the gloves. You watch him talk with his coach, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he nods, looking focused as he listens to the pointers and tips. You release a relieved sigh as Tom’s coach pats him on the back and walks off, leaving Tom to pick up his towel and his bottle before sauntering over to you and Harrison.

“Hi.” Tom tosses his stuff onto the bench before reaching for your hands. He pulls you up easily and quickly, causing you to squeal as you find yourself in his arms. He’s hot, his entire body flushed with the sweaty, adrenaline-filled afterglow of a good, long workout, and you laugh as he dives down to kiss your neck, soft curls tickling you. “Missed you, darling.”

He works his way up your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your chin, and then, finally, your mouth. It’s light, but then you push against him eagerly and wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan happily as you enjoy the feeling of Tom, his skin warm and flushed, his pulse vibrating against you, and his mouth, coming over yours again and again.

“I’m right here,” Harrison mutters, speaking up from behind you. You groan, give Tom a final kiss, and then begrudgingly pull back.

“Sorry,” you call out, stepping closer to Tom as you turn your head to look at Harrison. Tom’s arms come around your waist, and he holds you nearer, humming as he presses his face into your shoulder. “You can always leave.”

Harrison rolls his eyes as he flips you off, causing Tom to chuckle.

“Y/N,” Tom mumbles, voice fond. “Harrison can stay if he wants to stay. I was thinking we could all go get dinner or something.”

To your relief, Harrison is quick to shake his head. He pulls on his jacket as he looks between you and Tom, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as they twinkle with amusement.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave you both alone. I think Y/N’s had enough of me, anyway.” He’s teasing, and you all know it, but you still throw out an easing pout as you shrug.

“Night, Haz,” you say, leaning further into Tom, who echoes your sentiments. As soon as Harrison’s gone, Tom spins you in his arms, his brown eyes bright and glowing with adoration. He kisses you again, and you sigh as you melt further into him, the spark in the pit of your stomach roaring back to life as Tom’s tongue teases your lower lip.

“Come shower with me,” Tom murmurs, hands roaming your back. He pecks the side of your mouth a few times as you hum.

“I can’t,” you find yourself saying, though it pains you considerably. Tom abruptly stops his kisses.

“Why not?” He pouts, pulling back to stare at you. He looks a little bit like an injured puppy, eyes wide with hurt. He squeezes your waist for emphasis.

“We’re in the two-week window, Tom,” you remind him. You reach up, lightly cupping his very hot, very sweaty face, in your palm. “You know we can’t.”

He groans, then dramatically lets his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you let him pout and rub his back.

“I love you,” he says, after a moment. He pulls back, kissing your neck briefly before sighing. “Thanks for putting up with this.”

“It’s okay.” You bite your lip, tilting your head to the side as you examine him carefully. “It’s kind of hot. You get so frustrated.”

Tom just narrows his eyes, staring at you with an expression mixed between amusement and frustration.

“Go on, champ,” you say, pushing his shoulder gently. “Go shower so we can go home, yeah?”

Tom begrudgingly steps back, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he’s going to try and change your mind again, but he doesn’t. As much as you know he wants to drag you into a steamy cubicle, his desire to win his match is stronger.

“Be back soon, darling,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

———

The days burn by slowly.

About a week in, you find yourself snapping. You always try to adopt pseudo-chastity with Tom, feeling a little guilty every time you sneak your hand between your legs and chase the highs he can only dream about finding. Yet, you end up reaching breaking point and giving in to temptation one evening, alone in your flat. Tom’s out late at the gym, at the point in the regime where he’s spending most of his days hauled up in the large building, and you just can’t help yourself: you’re so horny.

If you asked him to get you off, you know he’d agree, never wanting to deny you anything. Tom loves you, loves watching you fall apart for him, loves the power trip that comes with knowing your pleasure is in his hands, but you’d just feel too mean. His refusal to have sex in the lead up is as much psychological as it is anything else—you know he finds energy in the ritual, finds aggressive, fiery hormones in the fourteen days of denial. You’d never want to put him in the position where he got tempted to break, no matter how badly you want to cum.

So, you decide to take care of your ache yourself. Or, at least, you try to.

You start off strong. Teasing yourself over your panties, drawing your fingers over the front of your covered sex. You let your eyes flutter shut as you think about Tom, recounting some of the last few sessions you’ve witnessed at the gym. You think about him, his biceps flexing and curling, the subtle curves of his long, slender fingers, his mouth. His features blur, and you find yourself moaning as you dip your fingers beneath the soft cotton and start to stroke your folds. You circle your clit for a while before dipping down to your entrance, touching the pool of your arousal and groaning as you wet your fingers. As your arousal starts to build, you tease your clit, accompanying the action with your other hand after a while. It feels good—so, so good—as you tease your g-spot with your fingers, keeping your thumb on your clit, edging, and edging, and edging, and—

You can’t cum.

A frown settles on your face as you start to grow frustrated. You try to change things up, slowing your movements, letting the high ebb away before trying again. Instead of reaching climax like you crave, you find yourself resting on the edge instead. You’re aroused, your cunt throbbing, your clit tingling, but you can’t quite get there. It’s frustrating.

You’re so caught up in your irritation that you miss the loud slam of the front door, too absorbed in the sounds of your wetness to hear Tom’s yell of greeting. Your eyes are shut as your boyfriend enters the bedroom. You’re not aware he’s home until you hear him tutting, his voice stacked full of amusement and lust. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself looking at him, wide-eyed like a deer stuck in the headlight.

“T-Tom,” you whimper, your movements stilling. You have your legs spread wide open, two fingers buried in your heat, your other hand draped over your bud. A shy smile finds its way across your lips as you batter your eyelashes at him, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your boyfriend, drowning in a black hoodie and tight blue denim jeans. His hair lies in fresh, air-dried curls, his eyes dark pools of lust. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tom repeats, imitating your tone. He pushes himself away from the bedroom wall, walking towards you like a lion stalking his prey. You whimper when he reaches down to touch your leg, sliding his hand over your shin teasingly. His eyes glint as he hears you, gaze fixed on the spot between your legs where your hands have stilled. “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, darling,” he teases, smirking. “Keep going. Just because I can’t have fun, doesn’t mean you should have to suffer too.”

You bite your lip, recognising all too well the teasing glint in his eye.

“I can’t,” you admit, shifting around on the mattress as Tom kneels on the end of the bed. Both of his hands are on your legs now, slowly, teasingly, dragging his touch up your shins. Your breath hitches as he slowly works his way up, dipping his head so he’s able to kiss each of your knees, his lips warm and tender.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

He’s lying down, settled between your legs, slowly kissing up the inside of one of your thighs. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close to your centre.

“Can’t get there,” you mutter, slowly pulling both of your hands away from your mound, leaving you exposed. Tom leans up, raising his eyebrows until you offer him the fingers you’d had buried inside your entrance. He hums as he sucks on your fingers, the sight of him making you moan softly. “I get so close, but I can’t get over the edge.”

Tom licks at the tips of your fingers before releasing them, smirking slowly. “What a shame,” he drawls, sounding the opposite. Both of his hands go to the soft sides of your thighs, and you let him pry your legs apart. He’s so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your bud, your folds, your entrance. “Looks like neither of us can cum this week, hmm?”

Before you can reply, Tom drops his head and buries it between your legs. You cry out, sensitive from your edging, your clit throbbing as you feel his tongue, warm and wet, circling the bud. His hands push your hips back down, holding you firmly in place as he moans, drawing his mouth all over your sex.

“Stay still, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick. He glances up at you, a wild look in his eyes. “Be a good girl and let me have a little taste.”  

Your eyes roll back, and you try to lie as still as possible. Tom’s fingers slip into your cunt, exploring your passage, curling up against your g-spot as you whimper.

“So good,” you moan, already feeling your climax twitching in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands goes down to grab at his hair, digging into his curls and keeping his face exactly where you need it, and the other fists the sheets. Your chest rises and falls, your heavy pants mixing with the sounds of Tom’s fingers, fucking your wet heat, and his tongue, teasing the life out of your tender clit. “Please, please.”

“Hmm, you don’t want to cum, do you?” Tom’s words are coupled with a gradual slow in his pace, and you feel your orgasm drifting away as he stills his fingers. He laps over your clit a final time before sitting up a little straighter, looking at you straight on as his chin glistens. “If I don’t get to cum, it doesn't seem fair that you do either, does it?”

His voice is hypnotising, and when his free hand goes to rub warm circles on your inner thigh, you find yourself nodding, transfixed.

“I- I guess.”

Tom smirks, dropping his lips so he can kiss your clit, lightly.

“Are you going to wait for me, sweetheart?” He asks, pink lips puffy and inflamed.

You bite your lip. “Tom,” you whimper, frowning when he lets his fingers pull away from your heat. You watch as he licks his digits clean, still with that wide, confident smirk on his face.

“Hm?” Tom kisses your thigh. “I can make you cum, if you really want to, darling. Just thought it might be nice to do this together.” He rolls both of his hands over your legs, battering his eyelashes at you. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while. Just think about how good it’ll be to wait until next Saturday.” He pushes himself up your body, anchoring himself with a strong arm either side of your head as he suspends himself above you. Tom kisses you, roughly, but only for a moment, letting your lips pull apart when he feels you trying to slip your tongue into his mouth. “Let’s do this together, yeah?”

You hum, thinking on it for a moment, but the scent of his cologne and his fresh shampoo scramble your mind. You find yourself nodding, distracted by the glint in his eyes.

“Okay,” you agree, rolling your eyes when he grins. “We’ll do it together.”

“Good girl.” Tom kisses you, grinning against your lips. “This is going to be fun.”

———

If you’d thought the sex ban was difficult to cope with in the first week, it only gets harder in the second. After giving Tom the green light to have his way with you, he seems to channel all his frustration into you—or, more specifically, into making you as frustrated as possible. He teases you, makes you squirm, beg, cry, letting his mouth wander over your sex or his fingers explore you, any time, any place he feels like it. He never allows you to roll over your edge, just watches, usually smirking, as you try to convince him to let you climax, only to kiss you, softly, and pull away each time.

It happens in the locker room—he pushes you up against the metallic lockers and slips his fingers into you, whispering gentle words with sinful intent.

“Gonna stay quiet for me, darling? Cunt feels so desperate... So tight, so hot. Fucking snug around my fingers, aren’t you? Shh… I know, I know. Feels good for you too, doesn’t it?”

In the showers, when you’re both hot and steamy—Tom drops to his knees and slings one of your thighs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face into your heat.

“Wish I could taste this pussy for the rest of my life, love. Tastes like paradise.”

It even happens in the gym, when he pushes a vibrating egg into you and enjoys teasing you, never warning you before he ups the pace of the bullet, watching with that signature mischievousness on his face.

“Don’t get all shy now, love… I can see the way you’re squirming for me. Bet you’re making a mess in those panties, hmm? Yeah… You can’t hide from me.”

It drives you crazy—beyond crazy. If you thought you’d been mad at Harrison before, you’re practically incandescent with rage by the time fight night comes around.

As your frayed arousal combines with the nerves of the big night, you find yourself alone with Tom, half an hour before the most important match of his career. Your priorities have shifted, your mood sobered by the situation.

“Visualise it,” you murmur, voice soft. You roll your hands over Tom’s shoulders. “Think about how good it’ll feel to hold that belt in your hands.”

Tom hums. He’s sitting on one of the hard wooden benches in the locker room. You’re kneeling behind him, occasionally dropping your lips to kiss the top of his head. After months of supporting him before a fight, you know exactly what he needs: you, touching him, grounding him. He doesn’t like distractions so near to the fight, which is why he has his eyes closed. Whenever he opens them, it’s only to look at the bright red gloves settled in his lap. You know that he appreciates you, even when he’s unable to vocalise it, too lost in his thoughts.

“You’ve trained your whole life for this moment, Tom. You deserve it.”

It’s a mantra. Harrison had taught it to you. Small words of affirmation, repeated softly over the lead-up, speaking them into existence. Tom hums, listening intently.

“You’re going to win,” you speak, your own eyes shut. You focus on the feeling of his shoulders, packed firm with muscles between your hands. “You’re going to win, and then you’re going to fuck me.”

Tom shifts, his posture straightening a little, and your eyes widen as you realise you’ve let your inner thoughts interrupt the ritual.

“I don’t think that’s on Harrison’s script, darling,” he mutters, voice amused.

You reach forward, drawing one of your hands over his forehead. Your fingers play with his hair, and you scrunch up your nose as you chastise yourself for your deviation.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Just fucking horny. Your fault.”

“Mm, sorry.” Tom grunts when you pull on his hair a little harder, and you repeat the action. “Fuck, love.” He groans louder and tilts his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his neck. “Give me a hickey?”

You oblige, dipping your head so you can rest your lips on his neck. “Where?” You ghost your lips over varying points on his skin, teasing him with light nibbles.

“There,” Tom mutters. One glance at his face confirms he’s still got his eyes shut. When you give in to his desire and start to suck a deep hickey to his skin, he grunts and reaches up to grab at your hands, squeezing your fingers roughly. “Shit.”

“There you go,” you say, voice soft as you pull back.

“Thanks, love,” Tom mutters. “Want to wear it in the ring. Good luck charm.”

You bite your lip, your centre throbbing as you listen to him. You kiss the mark, stained dark against his skin.

“You’ve got this, Tom,” you whisper, redirecting your lips to his ear. His neck prickles with goosebumps when you kiss his earlobe, softly. “You’re going to win, then you’re going to come back, and we’ll celebrate together. Okay?”

Tom’s still holding your hands, firm and eager, and you smile against his neck when he squeezes them.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll win. I’ll do it for you.”

You kiss the back of his head, his soft curls gentle against your cheeks.

“Love you, champ.”

He coaxes one of your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palm.

“Love you too, darling.”

———

The atmosphere sharpens when Tom gets out to the ring.

It’s a big match. The press is here, the fight streamed live to thousands of people across the world. As Tom strides into the ring to take on his opponent, you settle at the side of it, looking up through the ropes with Harrison by your side.

Tom starts off strong—a few hard jabs here, some quick punches there. He dodges and rolls, his bright red gloves raining down over his opponent. Yet, both Tom and his rival are the best of their class, so it’s a nail-biting half-hour spent with your fingers crossed, eyes trained on your boyfriend as he throws everything he has into the ring.

When they break halfway through the match for a few minutes of respite, you’re quick to slip up into the ring and assist Tom’s trainer as they patch up his injured hand. Tom doesn’t say anything, his teeth frozen in the hard white mouth guard, but he squeezes your hand before you step out again, and you know he’s still in there.

The second half only gets more intense—both of them knowing how close the match is, and adjusting accordingly. Tom and his opponent are more reckless, more brutal, and you watch your boyfriend take risks he’d promised to never try to take. It leaves you an anxious mess, but you can’t help but watch him in awe.

Tom’s time in the ring is a performance, beautifully violent, elegantly composed. Spit sprays, sweat drips, blood rolls. He’s loud—very vocal, his sounds almost brutish. His eyes glint black, brown curls stiff with sweat, face on fire. You find it incredibly attractive to watch him in his element, not just because he physically looks incredible, but also because he’s so utterly committed to his trade that everything else fades away. His passion burns, scorches the ground, ripples over his opponent, and in the end, Tom rises, and his rival sinks.

It’s close, and though you have the suspicion that your boyfriend might have snagged it, you hold your breath until it’s confirmed. Your grip on Harrison’s hand is so tight that he curses, but you don’t release it until the MC yells Tom’s name as champion and thrusts his arm triumphantly into the air.

The arena explodes. Your ears ring as you clap and cheer, tears of pride pooling in your eyes. The first thing Tom does is turn around, looking at you with an expression of elated shock on his face. Then, after accepting the belt and speaking a few hurried words of thanks into the microphone of the leading journalist, he comes straight to you.

“Tom!” You exclaim, shaking from emotion. It’s a blend of adrenaline, pride and nerves, cooling your body, making you quiver. Tom reaches down from the ring and grabs both of your hands, jerking you up to him. You dodge past the ropes, almost tripping in his haste, but he grabs you.

Still with the bright stage lights blinding the ring, Tom sweeps you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hot hands burning into your waist. You release a loud noise of surprise, taken entirely off-guard but rolling with the punches. Tom pushes you back against the ropes of the ring as your hands curl into his sweaty hair, and your brief hope that they’ve stopped broadcasting live is set aside as Tom comes closer, caging you in with his buff arms. It’s messy and dirty, his tongue twisting against yours, lips firm, intense, but it’s everything. As you let go of the tension you’d been harbouring all evening, another very prominent emotion burns to the surface: arousal.

“I fucking did it,” Tom breathes finally, forehead pushed to yours. He sounds so proud of himself that it makes you smile, tears reappearing in your eyes as you nod.

“You did,” you confirm. You pull on his hair and push him back so you’re able to see his eyes, dark and hungry. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you again, with so much intensity it knocks your breath from your lungs. When he pulls back, he uses one very hot hand to cup your cheek, holding you tightly.

“I have to do some interview shit,” Tom says, grimacing. He tilts his head at the championship belt, which now lies on the floor of the ring, discarded. He’s smirking as he brings his gaze back to you. “Meet me in the locker room? Ten minutes.”

You nod.

“Don’t be late.”

———

You wait for Tom in the team’s locker room, taking the time to lock all of the side doors that lead out from the room. His team has been around the two of you for long enough to know that it’s best to give you a wide berth in the few hours after Tom’s won a match, but you can never be too sure. Once you’re finished with that, you go to the liberty of pulling off your shoes, your jumper, and all the jewellery you’d put on for the night.

Then, you wait.

You wait, and you think about how magnificent Tom had looked as he’d fought, arms flexing, jaw set firm in a focused grimace. You rewatch the scenes of him thrusting the belt into the air, yelling elatedly. You think about how fucking mad he’s made you feel over the last two weeks, edging you and denying you, over and over again. It feels as though you’ve been permanently aroused for seven days straight, and now is no exception: just from spending all evening ogling him, you can feel your arousal wetting the front of your panties.

“Fuck,” Tom exclaims, suddenly bursting into the locker room. You turn around to watch him sling the championship belt over his shoulder as he hurries to flick the lock on the main door, knowing the routine as well as you. When he gets it, he turns and stalks over to you, picking up into a jog. “That took so fucking long,” he groans. He throws the belt away and pulls you from the bench, pushing you until your back bumps up against one of the metal lockers. Tom grins, his nose pressing to yours as he smothers you, hands back on your hips, forehead to yours, breath spreading over your face. “Couldn’t wait to get back here and see you.”

You draw your hands over his back, feeling his muscles tense and flex.

“Just see me?” You ask, ghosting your lips over his.

Tom tightens his grip on your waist. “No,” he mutters darkly. He kisses you, only for a second, but very hard. “Couldn’t wait to get back here, rip your clothes off, and finally give you everything you deserve.”

“Everything I deserve?” You raise your eyebrows, running your hands lower. “I think you deserve more, baby.” You smirk against his lips. “You just won the biggest fight of your life.”

“That’s true…” Tom steps back, only for a moment, and you watch as he reaches beneath the waistband of his gym shorts and grunts. A second later, he pulls out the hard protective cup that shields his lower half from injury in the ring, and he groans, loudly, his forehead pressing to yours. “I’m so fucking hard, darling,” he whines. He steps closer, and you feel him, stiff as a rod, pressing into your thigh. “Need to get it out of me.”

You nod, your head moving back as Tom runs a hand over your throat and tilts it to the side. His lips attack your neck, biting hard kisses to the side of your throat that make you moan, your pulse feeling strong between your legs.

“Shit,” you curse. “Get in the shower.”

Tom sucks a harsh hickey just below your ear before pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows. “The shower, eh?”

“Yeah.” You step out of his hold and start to tear off your clothes, your skin rippling with heat. “Gonna suck you off.” You fling your t-shirt to the ground and roll down your jeans, watching as Tom does the same. “Then… Then, you can fuck me… Shit, I’m definitely going to need you to fuck me.” You throw your bra aside and then push down your panties, the waistband rolling in on itself due to your speed. “I’m so wet, Tom.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Tom says, eyes taking in your bare form. “Been dreaming about feeling you again, love.” He finally pulls down his boxers, and his hard cock springs out. “Two weeks is far too long. Get over here.”

Tom grabs your hand and tugs you into one of the wide shower cubicles. Both of you curse as he turns the valve and the water comes out freezing cold, but the stark contrast to the raging fire burning up your insides is nice.

You kiss him for a while, as the two of you get soapy and Tom washes away the grime. His skin is soft beneath your hands and the noises he makes as you massage his dodgy shoulder would be erotic enough without the presence of his cock, hard and leaking precum, resting between your thighs. You make out for a while, savouring every moment and enjoying the fact you’re now able to kiss him for longer than two seconds without worrying about exciting him too much. It’s still just as intense as before, but less hurried, and more passionate—Tom’s fingers pushing your damp hair out of your face, water droplets rolling down your figures. To be so bare in front of him and have him so ravenous for you makes you want him more than anything.

“Get back,” you murmur, pushing his shoulders. Tom obeys, his body pressing against the yellow tiled wall. You run a trail of kisses down his torso, paying attention to both of his pecs before his abs, then his v-line. Your knees bend, and you kneel on the floor, kissing up his thighs briefly before finally taking him in hand.

“Fuck-” Tom yells. His hands wind into your hair, flat palms grasping at your skull when you drag your tongue over his tip. “Been so long, love, I won’t last long at all.”

You hum as you tenderly lick over his head, absorbing his salty precum and moaning at the taste. “I know,” you say, your hand slowly tugging his length. You give his tip a chaste kiss as you blink up at him, smiling innocently. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to cum down my throat.” Very slowly, you envelop his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head gently. You pull back after only a few moments, needing to add, “Want you to fuck my face, Tom.”

Your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your cheek, his voice strained from the way your hand is pumping his lower shaft. “Are you sure? Might not be gentle.”

“Yeah.” You nod your head too. “Want it rough. ‘M so fucking horny, and so are you. Want you to make my throat ache tomorrow.”

Tom curses, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so sexy,” he whines, slapping your cheek gently. “Thank you.”

You consider telling him that it’s almost as much for you as it is for him, but then you decide that the sight of his cock, flushed red, leaking precum, is your number one priority. So, you loosen your hand on his member and remove it completely, then soften your jaw and start to take him in your mouth, deep-throating him like you’ve ached to do for two weeks.

Tom’s fast to use his leverage on your head, guiding you with shaking hands. Both of you know that all you have to do to tap out is press his thigh, so you let him use you however he needs. Tears pool in your eyes as he fucks your mouth hard, his tip hitting the end of your throat until you gag. The lewd sounds mix with the pounding of the shower against the tiles and Tom’s grumbled groans that spiral up into the air.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, voice raspy and light. “So good, sweetheart, fuck. Such a pretty mouth. Feels so bloody good.” He breaks off for a moment, and you feel him shifting around on the wall, indicating he’s near his peak. “So messy too, fuck. Missed this. Watching you on your knees, gagging on my cock.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you deeper, groaning loudly as he does so. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Gonna cum all down your throat. Shit, shit-”

Tom stops moving your head as he yelps, one of his hands curling into a fist and hitting back against the wall as he cums suddenly. You swallow around him, pulling up until your lips are at his tip, and your hand goes up to pump the rest of him through his orgasm. His entire body shakes, releasing the pent-up frustration that comes with so long in denial, and you take joy in the light whimpers he deposits into the air as you suck on his tip, cleaning him up.

“Holy…” Tom grabs your hair and pulls you back up, slumping against you instead of the wall as he pants. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulls back to look at you, his thumb coming up to play with the beads of his cum that stain the corner of your mouth. “Made a mess,” he coos, pushing his seed onto your tongue. You grin as you suck his thumb further into your mouth, delighting as he curses. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart. You really are.”

You release his finger with a pop, shrugging. “How was that?”

Tom groans again, the sound almost orgasmic. “So good,” he mumbles. “Been so long, darling. So, so long.” He kisses your face, dusting your cheeks in light, loving kisses. When he pulls back, his eyes are a little darker. “Bet you’d like to chase that high too, wouldn’t you?” He accompanies his words with a sly hand, slipping down between your legs. When he feels your slick, so pronounced it’s coating your inner thighs, he tuts, smirking. “All this for me?”

You nod, whining breathlessly as he slips two fingers up to toy with your bud. You feel like a livewire—strung out and pulsing, white-hot. Unlike him, you’ve had some stimulation over the last two weeks. Just, you’ve also been cruelly pulled away from the edge, every single time.

“Just for you,” you agree. Your face drops forward, and you find yourself biting Tom’s broad shoulder as he curls two fingers into you with ease.

“You’re so hot in here,” he mutters, “and so wet, too. Fuck, love. You’re dripping down my hand.” When he angles his digits up to caress your g-spot, he strikes it immediately, and you moan noisily. “There you go, baby. Shh. It’s okay.” Tom fucks your tight heat, gradually unravelling you. “I’ve got you.”

Your moans come out strangled, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your high builds quickly. It won’t take much to push you over the edge, and as much as it pains you—

“I don’t want to cum on your hand, Tom,” you manage, your voice betraying you by splitting into a whimper. “Want to cum on your cock.”

Tom slows his fingers, but he keeps thrusting them into you, just too slowly for you to peak. You groan, your centre pulsing as he keeps you burning near the edge, his lips on your neck again. He gently kisses up to your ear, mouth feather-light.

“Are you sure?” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Feels like you want to cum.” When Tom adds his other hand, two fingers gently stroking your tender bud, your knees almost give out. “Can feel you clenching around me, Y/N, naughty girl.” He kisses just below your ear. “If you want something, you know how you need to ask for it.”

You’re all over the place, your eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out over your forehead, your cunt clenching and releasing every other second. You’re so close you can almost taste it, but you try to exercise self-control.

“Please, Tom.” It takes everything in you, but you manage to stand up straighter again, looking at him straight-on. His eyes dance dark with power and lust, his smirk unmoving as he thrusts his fingers a little faster. “W-Want you to fuck me. Been waiting so long, don’t want to fall apart if it isn’t with you behind me. Please, please, please, please-”

He cuts you off with a hard kiss, and finally, Tom pulls his hands away. He runs them both through the stream of water before reaching back to clumsily turn off the valve.

“I fucking love you,” he tells you. “Couldn’t deny you anything. Not really.” Tom takes your hand. “C’mere.”

Tom carefully pulls you over to one of the wooden benches. After draping a towel over the wooden slats, he pushes you down onto your hands and knees, his fingers spreading your legs. You whimper as you feel his cock, hard again, refracted in the interlude he’d constructed with his hands working you into insanity. Your knuckles clench around the slabs of wood, and despite already feeling the ache in your knees, it only spurs you on. You love the pain, love the visible, throbbing reminders of Tom, and he knows it just as much as you do.

“Look so pretty like this, darling,” Tom says, voice drifting through the air. Both of his hands go to your ass, roughly massaging your skin until his right hand slaps down across you, stinging bright hot. He repeats the action when you moan loudly, the slapping sound ringing out through the air. Each time his hand falls over you, you only grow hotter. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered in water from the shower, you’re burning up. “G’nna let me take you like this, eh? Fuck this tight little pussy, like I know you’ve been dreaming of.”

When Tom lines his tip up with your entrance, you find yourself clinging to the edge of the bench with your fingers.

“Yes,” you beg, backing up against him. You feel like you might dissolve into a mess of arousal, tears, and desperation if he doesn’t satisfy you soon. “Please.”

Tom runs a hand up your back, fingers drifting over the line of your spine. He drops his lips and kisses the lower part of your back, so delicately it makes you quiver.

“Okay,” he says. “G’nna give it to you good.”

He enters you quickly and easily, and you almost lose it from the first thrust alone. You’re so slick that Tom’s swift in pulling back and then slamming back into you, his hands holding your hips back and in place as your arms wobble and your figure loses control. You drop your head between your arms, the blood rushing to your skull and making you feel light-headed as he rocks into you, over and over again, giving you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Tom,” you gasp, your breaths heavy and inconsistent. It feels indescribable—the final denouement of your time apart. Each drag of his cock through your heat has you reeling, your walls quivering and clenching and trying desperately to keep him in, keep him nudging your g-spot, stimulating your passage. You’re moaning louder than you’ve ever moaned before, the coil in your stomach building and building without warning or direction.

Behind you, Tom seems to be enjoying it just as much as you. His libido strong and healthy and his body pumped full of pre-match adrenaline that it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he’s being so hard and purposeful in his movements. His groans are like music to your ears, small grunts of affirmation that he too has missed the paradise that unfolds when you join together.

“So fucking tight, angel,” he rasps, again letting his hand fall over your ass. He soothes the skin with his palm, and then he repeats the action two more times. “Feel you clenching me every time I do that.” He pinches your hip with his other hand, and you find yourself biting your forearm, embarrassed by how loud you think you’d moan if you were able to. “You love it rough like this, don’t you, darling? Mm… I know you do.”

It’s a dizzying blur of skin on skin for a while, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge on multiple occasions. It’s as if your body is holding back though, waiting on Tom to near it too before you’re able to fully let go. Almost sensing this, he reaches down and shoves his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging you up until your back is pressed against his front. The angle pushes him deeper, and your eyes flood with tears as you find yourself unable to comprehend just how good it feels.

“Y’like that?” He rasps. Tom drags a hand down to your clit, able to access it better now that he’s holding you so much closer. His pace is slower, but he’s going forcefully, his head hitting your g-spot every time. “Fuck, darling, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.”

You whimper, your chest heaving.

“Yeah,” you moan. His name pours from your lips like a prayer, rising in desperation as you slip back down, hands grabbing at the slats of the bench as you hold on for dear life. “Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Come on,” Tom urges. “Do it. I want to feel you squeezing my cock so tight, like you always do. Always makes me lose it, doesn’t it, love? Shit, you’re so perfect. Go on. I’ve got you. Get my cock nice and wet, and I’ll fill you up. You’d like that, eh? Feeling me cumming inside this pretty pussy? Come on. You know what you have to do.”

It slams into you, pouring down over you in waves that submerge you entirely. You feel boneless but also rigid at the same time, your jaw slack as your vision blurs. Pleasure ripples out from your centre, dousing your aching cunt in relief that feels so sweet, only growing richer and more fulfilling when you hear Tom grunt and feel his cock pulse in you. You come together, bodies moving in sync, perfectly, despite the time apart, and it’s so good that it takes you out of it completely.

You’re so absorbed in your climax that you end up drifting, opening your eyes a few moments later only to find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the bright white lines of the locker room ceiling. Your eyes blur with tears, but just for a moment, because then Tom’s palm swims into vision, drifting above your head until he finds the right angle that blocks out the light.

“Hey, darling,” he coos. He brings one of your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Are you okay? Lost you for a second.”

A very lazy, content smile finds your lips.

“Yeah,” you say sluggishly. You ache all over, but it feels incredible. You’re buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a session like this—after you’ve let him dismantle you completely. “Are you okay?”

Tom nods, his wet hair flying everywhere. “Fantastic,” he confirms. He glances down your figure, then offers you a soft smile. “I’m going to take you home, run you a really, really nice bath, and then we’re going to cuddle.” He drops your hand and instead cups your face in his palm. You nuzzle into it. His eyes are so soft as he gazes at you tenderly. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. I love you.”

You smile softly. “Love you too.”

Tom leans over you and kisses your lips, very gently, before shifting his mouth all over the rest of your face. He goes from one cheek, over to your forehead, down your nose, to the other, before circling back to your mouth. By the time he reaches there, your smile has grown to a grin, and you feel grounded enough to reach up and loop your fingers into his hair.

“Thank you,” he says, speaking earnestly, “for always being here for me. For supporting me, and putting up with all my crazy ideas, and being incredible, always. You are my inspiration, and I love you more than anything.”

You feel your heart throb in your chest, and you have to focus really hard on stopping the swell of emotion from leaving through your tired eyes.

“Any time,” you say, nodding to emphasise your point. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you might need, I’ll do it.”

Tom’s warm brown eyes meet with yours, and the smile on his face shows no sign of leaving.

“All I need is you,” he says. His lips come down to yours, softly, just resting there. “All I’ll ever need is you.”

—

———

:)) I rlly like this tbh. I hope you do too !

please let me know what you thought by hitting up my askbox or dropping a comment/rb...? thank you thank you!

masterlist and taglist can be found in my pinned post :D

[watchmegetobsessed]

ANOTHER TITLE

a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader

word count: 1.8k

This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.

Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.

Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.

Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.

“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”

He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.

Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.

“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”

He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.

“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”

Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.

You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.

As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.

“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”

“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.

Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.

“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.

At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.

Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.

Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!

“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.

“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.

You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.

“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”

He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.

Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.

“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.

“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.

“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.

“Which one?”

“Love of my life.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[anthemxix]

I had an angsty interesting idea and thought you’d maybe like to hear it (since you’re a fan of Wars and Time bonding)

Time and Warriors get separated from the group and are fighting a big ol’ horde of monsters when Time gets hit hard. Like, he-needs-a-fairy-NOW hard. And Wars knows he can’t protect Time while fighting off all these monsters, he’s horribly outnumbered without him, he needs help, he needs more power-

Then he remembers the Fierce Diety mask.

anon, thank you for thinking of me!! i do adore these two bonding! <3 hope you enjoy this little thing i wrote~ uwu

The realization that this ragtag monster horde was capable of implementing a coordinated battle plan carries myriad unsettling implications, but Warriors puts all that aside for later consideration. Right now, he’s rather more preoccupied with his other realization: he and Time are kind of fucked.

Separated from the other heroes by the latest portal (and maybe that was all part of the enemies’ strategy, too?), Time and Warriors are severely outnumbered, two to two dozen. The only reason they haven't lost already is because they've managed to stay back-to-back, fighting together fluidly, watching each other's blind spots. Everything they're doing is purely defensive, purely reactionary, and their stamina is quickly getting whittled away by endless waves of brutal attacks.

And maybe their draining stamina is why there's a slip-up. Warriors hopes that's why there's a slip-up, because he can't bear the idea that his carelessness caused whatever just happened behind him to make Time shout in agony.

Warriors whirls around just as Time crumples to his knees. He steps in front of the Old Man in time to block the heavy stroke of a darknut's broadsword. The blunt impact forces him back half a foot. He grits his teeth and smashes his shield into the darknut's helmet as it winds up for another strike. Armor rattling, the monster stumbles back, briefly stunned.

Swinging around, Warriors throws out his shield against the thrust of a lizalfos' spear, but both weapon and shield collide instead with a translucent blue wall that materializes between them. Sapphire-colored and diamond-shaped, the sudden barrier surprises Warriors for a second before he remembers a child casting the same spell on battlefields some years ago.

"Can't hold it for long," Time says, voice strained, as he presses one hand against his side. Warriors drops down next to him, ignoring the sounds of baffled and angry monsters pounding on the barrier encasing them, and pulls Time's hand away to reveal a terribly deep gash.

Time coughs, and a trail of blood mars his chin. Cursing, Warriors carelessly rips a swatch from his scarf and stuffs it into the wound in the hopes of slowing the bleeding.

"Give it to me," he blurts before he knows what he's saying. His conscious mind takes a moment to catch up to his mouth, but then he feels it. Beneath the clean, blessed magic that Time exudes beats the pulse of something darker, something that wormed into Warriors’ mind without him even noticing.

Suddenly, Warriors knows with certainty how this fight is going to end. He reaches for Time's satchel without awaiting an answer. The Old Man clamps a surprisingly firm hand onto Warriors' wrist.

"No," he says, the tremble in his voice belying the sternness of his tone. "I won't allow it."

The magic, which feels like frenzy barely contained, wraps more securely around Warriors' heart. He wonders how it leaked into him without his consent, how it made him its pawn before he even considered using the mask.

"It's our only choice." Warriors drapes his other hand on top of Time's. The barrier around them flickers, disappearing for half an instant.

Time retrieves the mask from his bag without looking, like he knows exactly where it is. In the open, the mask's alluring magic is more potent. It feels like chaos masquerading as calm, like a threat camouflaged as salvation.

"I could do it," Time weakly offers, even as more blood beads on his lips, as more color drains from his wan face, as resignation clouds his eye.

When Warriors' fingers graze the mask's smooth wood, a shock runs along his spine, prickles the hair on his arms and the back of his neck. The faded red and blue lines that mirror Time's remind him that dabbling with something this powerful has irreversible consequences. In an odd moment of detached lucidity, Warriors recognizes that after he puts on this mask, his life is never going to be the same.

But as he takes the cursed object, he looks down at Time's weeping gash, poorly plugged by blood-drenched scraps of scarf, and feels at peace with his decision.

"I'll be fine, Sprite," he says. "Just promise me you'll be fine, too."

As Time's spell withers and the blue diamond barrier shatters, Warriors puts on the mask.

He's dropped into an abyss that somehow feels both bottomless and claustrophobic. He can't see or hear or touch any more, can't feel his body or what he's doing; he's confined to his mind, condemned to an inky, oceanic emptiness that is filling up with poisonous magic. The deity's overwhelming presence invades more and more of Warriors' mental space, grappling for control.

And it hurts. It's agonizing, the way the subjugating magic bleeds into his every crevice, sunders him at his seams. Peels him apart layer by layer. Breaks him down to his basest pieces. Divides. Consumes.

Rational thought disappears; his darkness is lit only by instinct now, and his instinct tells him to fight. So Warriors resists. As puny and piteous a creature as he is compared to the deity's wrath, he resists, struggling to retain a foothold in his own mind.

And just as abruptly as this hellish internal fight begins, it ends. Full consciousness slams back into Warriors with merciless force. The world seems like a hazy mess of colors and light that he can't decipher. His body feels foreign, and he can't distinguish, spatially, where he is, what he's doing. He thinks he's standing--no, he's falling--

Warriors tumbles back into something solid. Someone solid, who secures their arms around his middle and lowers him to the ground. Dizzy and muddled, he squints up at the concerned face hovering above him. Twilight. The Rancher's mouth is moving, but the words are distant and incomprehensible.

Simply holding his head up is a strain, and Warriors lets himself go limp in Twilight's arms. Through blurry vision, he can see the signs of a massacre: the decimated remains of all those monsters, strewn around the battlefield. He vaguely registers Twilight's fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse, and Twilight's hands running along his limbs, his torso, feeling for injuries.

There's a swirl of red and pink in his periphery. Legend, not bothering to conceal his concern, appears on one side of him. He's speaking, too, and though the words sound a bit clearer than before, Warriors still doesn't understand. Exhausted, he doesn't worry about it, and lets his eyes slip closed.

Twilight and Legend's conversation drones over his head as comforting white noise, and the Rancher's steady breaths begin to lull him to sleep. Then something tugs at his hand, and he pries his eyes open, annoyed, to see Legend trying to take the mask from him.

Warriors blinks down at the cursed item, surprised to see it still clasped in his fist, his unyielding fingers coiled through the eye holes.

"Let go of this damn thing, Pretty Boy," Legend says when he sees Warriors' eyes are open. The Captain can't decide if Legend's voice is actually quiet or if it still sounds weirdly far away. Regardless, he loosens his hold and watches Legend take the mask, grimace at it with a mix of revulsion and anger, and artlessly toss it out of view.

"Captain?"

Turning his heavy head, Warriors finds Wind kneeling at his other side. His expression is all unrefined concern, the watery eyes and exaggerated compassion of a child. Warriors wants to comfort him, but he can hardly move at the moment. He supposes speaking is out of the question, too.

"Are you okay?" the Sailor asks, taking up Warriors' hand in both his own.

Getting no reply, Wind glances between Twilight and Legend. "Why isn't he saying anything? He's okay, isn't he?"

"I'm sure he's fine," Twilight replies. It's a stilted, rote response that holds little conviction. Warriors thinks that should bother him, but he's too tired to care.

"What about those?" Wind says, nodding towards Warriors.

On reflex, Twilight brushes his fingers against the Captain's cheek, looking sadly at whatever is there. "The magic imprinted on him, but he wasn't changed for long. The marks will fade."

Marks? Warriors tunes out the rest of the conversation, trying to deduce what marks they're referring to--until he pictures the red and blue lines tattooed onto--

Time. Warriors twitches, wanting to sit up, wanting to ask after the Old Man. Legend puts a steadying hand on his shoulder, instructs him not to move. Still, he swivels his head around, trying to squint through the still-indistinct mass of shapes and lights that make up the world beyond his little sphere.

Finally, he sees, past Wind, the rest of their troupe. As Warriors is with Twilight, Time is reclined against Sky, with Four and Wild on either side of him. Hyrule is bent over him, hands aglow with golden healing magic that surges into the dangerous wound on Time's side.

Warriors tries to focus on the Old Man's face, and his eyes finally adjust enough that he can see Time, grim and weary, looking straight back at him. He looks sad, Warriors thinks. Sympathetic. Pitying.

It's off-putting, and Warriors looks away. He closes his eyes again and sinks back into Twilight, deciding for now that he'll pretend this is a nightmare, and soon, he'll wake up somewhere else with his soul and mind intact. Yes, he thinks, he’ll let himself pretend for a little while.

[licuadora-nasir]

Could you write something like that: at first Mathieu wants to Lance train Erika but then he becomes jelaous of Erika because they're spending time together and having fun. (Mathieu's in love with Erika and Lance's in love with Erika too, sooo... love triangle). You can change something if you want

Heeeello! Thanks for the ask! I wrote your petition in headcanons cause I thought it would be easier to attend every aspect that I thought it might be interesting regarding the possible love triangle between those two.

I hope you like it!

HC about Mathieu&Lance love triangle under the cut

Mathieu was excited that Lance would spend more time training him, but what he didn't expect was that sometimes it would get... Boring.

Yes, the boy admired the dragon a big deal, but they didn't have much in common, and Lance was never too eager on chit-chatting nor a great conversationalist.

So, during one lunch, he tried to convince Erika to join him in his instruction with the obsidian's leader.

At first, she was iffy; one thing was seeing Lance every day, watching him fighting, instructing his subordinates, and the other was spending time with him wilfully, dodging his hits, throwing blows at him.

All of those things reminded her about other times. Times when she had to face not gentle hits of his superior but the wrath of a desperate man who didn't know how to stop.

Despite it, she agreed to join Mathieu. It would do her good to both move her muscles and overcome her fears.

Besides, it wasn't like Lance was a brute anymore or anything.

So, when Erika decided to join his friend in his lessons, Mathieu's heart pounced in joy; the girl he had a tiny crush on -which anyone knew, of course- would spend more time with him.

And he was right! The training which was instructive though earnest and sometimes even boring turned into something entertaining and fruitful.

Both humans supported each other and worked together to learn as much as they could from their mentor.

Struggling when Lance instructed strenuous tasks to them, chortling every time Erika lost balance and fell on her ass, reassuring her whether she wasn't able to summon their powers properly, laughing when Mathieu unsuccessfully tried to do something staggering and failed on his tracks...

But they weren't the only ones who found those hours entertaining, Mathieu noticed that Lance's eyes danced in silent amusement now and then.

Amusement and maybe something more. Something that couldn't place yet.

Driven by curiosity, he put aside the warm feelings that the aengel provoked in him to try and figure out what was going on with Lance.

Mathieu may seem simple-minded and lackadaisical, but back on earth, he used to watch. To observe other people while he isolated himself on his thoughts, on his dreams.

Having no friends accustomed him to it.

It took him less than anyone would expect to unravel the feeling that hid in the dragon's windows soul.

At first, he thought it'd be guilt, considering his past with her, maybe even admiration. But after monitoring every word, noticing his stares, his soft, calculated gestures around her... Mathieu saw through him, comprehending that what Lance felt toward Erika wasn't mere appreciation but something more. Love.

And maybe, that realization that came accompanied by a spark of jealousy, was the trigger that made the young man aware that he had fallen for his friend as well.

The difference was that the human's personality could easily mask those well-hidden feelings, mistaken by kindness or friendliness. So masked that Lance, Erika and not even Koori —his best friend—had noticed.

For some days, Mathieu thought about letting Lance warm his way to Erika. The man must have suffered a great deal through his life and some happiness would do good to his life but... It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair to him nor Lance. He doubted the dragon would thank him if he found out that he stepped aside. And a tiny little part of him thought that he deserved to love her. That he also deserved to be happy.

A silent, unknown competition began.

Mathieu decided that he wouldn't be pushy, but if Lance took a step, he would take another.

If Lance complimented her, Mathieu would smile at Erika and cheer her, or make her giggle.

Until one day, Lance, that had slowly picked up traces of suspicions, noticed what his human pupil was up to.

It didn't happen during an illuminating event but thanks to a small, simple gesture.

Both men were to pick the woman's training bag after she suddenly had been summoned by Huang Hua when their hands barged into each other.

Hands gripped in the bag's handle, Lance slowly raised his head to lock his eyes into Mathieu's. And he confirmed everything he needed to know, fitting the pieces together.

For an instant, they both stood still, without muttering any sound.

And when Lance was standing with the bag in his hands, the human refused to let go of the handle.

The dragon had thought about that possibility many times, and the conclusion was always the same: If Mathieu held those feelings for her, he would step aside. He wasn't worthy of Erika, and either way, the young man was probably a better match for her.

But after that gesture, that defiance... Something burned inside of him again. A well-known feeling that he buried years ago.

Something selfish, competitive and maybe even greedy.

He had lived all his life fighting. Fighting for the things he wanted, he longed. Things he had to see achieved, completed. And it didn't feel right to give up against someone willing to put up a fight.

It would be pathetic to disparage that fighting spirit that has accompanied him all of his life.

Therefore, he would play that game Mathieu had been playing these last weeks.

Only to see who would claim the right of being at her side.

Do you have any requests? Feel free to stop by my ask box! But first, please read this.

[bl--ankhaeji]

Picture Perfect

Pairing ~ Johnny x reader 

Genre ~ Smut,,some fluff but mostly smut 

Warning ~ uhh unprotected sex,,creampie,,very vulgar probably the most i’ve been with a smut so far,,a sprinkle of degradation and praise here and there,,

A/N ~ I wrote this in a couple of hours after inspiration struck,,uhh if you ask me this probably the most graphic smut i’ve written so far,,i really should be focusing on finishing my other shit that I already started but what can ya do 🤷🏽‍♀️,,sorry to the people who are waiting on me to finish shit

W.Count ~ 2.2k

Pulling into the driveway you see the car’s headlights illuminate the quaint house. It’s as if you can feel your heart about to leap out of your chest, the anxiety from meeting his parents for the first time is almost overwhelming. That’s when you feel his hand grab yours tightening his grip a silent way of reassuring you that everything will be fine. “Babe, calm down I can practically hear the alarms going off in your head. Everything will be fine, I promise they’ll love you almost as much as I do.” his hand squeezes yours once more before you see the door to the house open a small kind looking Asian woman sticking her head to see who is outside. 

“It's time.” you think to yourself taking in and releasing a deep breath. You see out of the corner of your eye your boyfriend of 2 years stepping out of the car, making his way to your side. The crisp night air that hits your exposed skin brings a chill before you see his hand reach into the car and his loving gaze sets on you. You both make your way to the still open door hand in hand and it’s like your soul leaves your body as the older woman takes you into her arms immediately. 

“Y/n, oh my gosh it’s so nice to finally meet the girl I can’t stop hearing about.” You feel safe and at home in her loving arms and suddenly you’re not so scared anymore. She loosens her grip on your body standing back a little to survey your face. “You’re just as beautiful as I’ve been told.” she says and the smile on her face anything but malicious. 

“Wow mom I can’t believe you just skipped over me like that. It’s not like I’m your son or anything.” you can practically hear the eye roll in his words as they leave his mouth. 

“Ohhh my John-ah you know I love you my big baby.” and you feel the warmth from Johnny’s mom’s hug evaporate as she wraps her arms around her son. “Oh my god why are we still outside. Come in, come in.” 

Inside you meet Johnny’s father and the apparent creator of coffee. Having to stifle a laugh when you are reminded of the time Johnny told you about that. Safe to say after meeting both of his parents you come to the conclusion that you had no reason to believe they wouldn’t like you. Throughout the night you even believed at some points Johnny’s parents were more excited to see you than their own son. Which also did not go unnoticed by Johnny who made sure to voice his discontent. 

“Babe I told you, you didn’t have anything to worry about.” You both were on the way back to your shared apartment. It being late and the exhaustion that came from stressing over meeting Johnny’s parents made you pretty tired. “They loved you, I think even more than me.” he quips, his jovial laugh filling the expanse of the car.

“Yea, your mom wouldn’t stop complimenting me, I was starting to get flustered. At least now I can see where you get all of your charisma.” you chuckle placing your hand on his that sat on top of the gear shifter.

A pout makes its way onto his handsome face as you notice yourselves about to pull into your apartment complex, “I was a little salty to see my mom take my job for the night. I didn’t get to flirt with you nearly as much as I would’ve liked.” Squeezing his hand you reach into your purse grabbing the keys to the door. 

“It’s ok, you have me for the rest of your life so you can make it up to me.” you say not fully hearing what you just implied, but Johnny heard you, loud and clear. Making your way into your apartment you instantly kick off your shoes at the door, happy that you can finally change into something more comfortable. 

You and Johnny both walk into your bedroom Johnny making his way to the bathroom whilst you stand in front of your vanity taking off the clothes and jewelry you had put on for tonight. After stripping down to nothing but your bra and panties you’re in the process of taking off your necklace when Johnny walks out of the bathroom in nothing but his underwear. “God Bless Calvin Klein.” you think as he walks across the room to the closet as if it was nothing, and it usually is but tonight it wasn’t. 

You lower your upper half onto your forearms, bent over the vanity, “My, what a,” you gesture to his lower regions, “Nice sized bulge you have there.” looking into his eyes through the mirror with hopefully all the lust you currently feel. Johnny stops mid stride and looks at you, his face twisted in confusion before he sees the look in your eyes and you watch as a cocky smirk makes its way onto his face.

“Why thank you, I work it out to make sure that when it grows it’s all nice and strong.” The words fall from his lips like its second nature, playing along with what you started. You step closer to male, so close that you can feel his body heat radiate from his skin. 

“You wouldn’t mind if I,” Leaning towards his ear you make sure to lower your voice to the most seductive tone you can imagine , “Take a look.”  the breath from your words ghost over his ear and you slowly run your tongue up the expanse of his outer ear before landing a kiss on his neck. 

You can feel the low rumble in his chest before you hear it. His hands grip your sides before they make their way to your shoulders and he makes you stand face to face with him, “Be my guest.”  

Your body lowers itself before you can even realize what’s happening. Once on your knees you pull Johnny’s underwear down in one fell swoop. “You have one, lovely cock here if I do say so myself.” you drag on,“I have the burning urge to put it in my mouth,” licking your lips you look at the man standing over you, “Can I?” 

A grin etches itself onto Johnny’s face and you can see in his eyes that he is having too much fun with this. “Well that is why I work it out ma’am so please do.” Johnny’s words are like fine wine and they are most definitely getting you drunk. You take the hardening cock into your hands guiding it into your mouth. Even when not at full mass Johnny still has a monster of a dick and you feel that at times like these when he stretched your mouth to its limit. Working your tongue down his cock you make sure to not leave one spot untouched. 

Your hands find a home on his thighs gripping to steady yourself. Knowing Johnny’s cock like the back of your hand you instantly flick one of his sweet spots under the head. You can feel the wetness building up in your panties and when you massage Johnny’s balls pulling a delicious groan from him you feel like you can’t get any wetter. “Shit miss, you sure know how to suck cock. I think it’s my lucky day to have stumbled upon a slut like you, huh?” He caresses the bulge in your cheek from his dick. 

All you can give is a Mhmm taking him deeper into your mouth whilst sucking harder you hear him moan and his hand travels from your cheek to your throat cupping it where his dick bulges. “Fuck, you love my dick in your throat huh? You were so hungry for cock that you have to ask the first man you see if you could suck it.” He takes you off of his dick as you watch the line of saliva connecting you and the head of his dick. 

Johnny pulls you up and gives your face a once over, no doubt he’s looking at your swollen lips envisioning them still around cock. He picks you up sitting you on top of your vanity, his forehead rests on yours, “I have to get a taste of you.” he all but forces out of his mouth. 

Your hands make their way to his shoulders gripping them in desperation, “No, w-we can do that later. But now I just want you to fuck me, please.” you speak, lips grazing against his. Johnny takes a rough kiss from your lips pulling your underwear down and taking your bra off. He slides a finger into your dripping hole before working in two more. A moan drips off of your lips like honey followed by a whine, frustrated that it’s his fingers and not something else. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get my dick in here.” and although his mouth said one thing his actions said another, removing his fingers he grabs his cock rubbing it up and down your slit before positioning it at your entrance, but instead of pushing in fully he only pushes the tip in before taking it back out again. He keeps doing that, making you restless. 

“Sir, mmm please. Stick it in, please.” your legs wrap around his waist as your hips start moving trying to figure out any way it can get his cock in your cunt. He lowers his head to your neck, biting and sucking fully knowing of the marks that’ll be left behind. Against your neck you feel his tongue lick under your jawbone. 

“Mmm at least this slut knows how to beg. Maybe I’ll grant your wish but I’ll need clearer instructions first, what exactly do you want me to do.” His warm breath ghosts across your skin and you have to find every bit of patience in you. 

“I want your cock.” 

“That’s good baby now tell me where.” All the while he never stops rubbing the tip of his dick up and down your slit and slightly pushing it into your wet cavern. 

“F-fuck in,” taking a deep breath only being able to focus on the movement of his cock your mind goes blank, “Uh-uh fuck, I want your cock in mmm in my dirty cunt.” 

“Ohh I like the way you worded that. You do have a dirty cunt don’t you baby, just letting whoever wherever use it. I could make you my personal cock sleeve and you wouldn’t mind would you?” You probably resemble a bobble head the way you vigorously nod your head. A chuckle leaves his lips and he delivers a cool kiss to your neck, “That’s my little cocksleeve.” 

Like an itch being scratched you feel him push his way into your wet snatch as a moan involuntarily leaves your body and you feel him groan into your neck. His hips snap into yours at a steady pace as he delivers slow deep thrusts. “Damn, you’re like a vice. Gripping me and sucking me in,” he moves his face to be level with yours. A cocky smirk sits on his lips as he looks into your eyes, “Best damn cocksleeve out there.” 

His thrusts speed up, reaching deeper every time he enters. Your moans quickly turn into babbles as he moves his hand to your clit rubbing it just the way you like. “Look at you, barely able to form coherent words just from my cock, and to think earlier tonight you portrayed the picture perfect image of a sweet girl to my parents. When in reality you’re just a picture perfect cock hungry slut.” Dropping the role he had taken on his words continue, “But no you’re not just any cock hungry slut, you’re my cock hungry slut aren’t you baby.” his unoccupied hand comes up to wrap around your throat applying just enough pressure to cut off your airways as he lays another kiss this time on your cheek. 

“You’re my good little cocksleeve aren’t you?” your eyes practically roll into the bad of your head as all of the sensations come together at once, overwhelming you pushing you to the brink. You didn’t even feel your orgasmn coming, it just took over you by storm. Your body convulses and you’re so focused on the pleasure of your lower region that you don’t even feel the tears roll down your cheeks Johnny lovingly kissing the salty beads of water away. “That’s it baby, cum for me. You’re doing so good.” 

“Shit, you’re so tight. I-I’m about to cum.” He alerts you of his impending orgasmn, “Take it baby, take my cum.” His arm comes up to the wall behind you supporting himself as his sentence is punctuated with a moan as he forcefully cums in you creating another mini orgasm to kick off for you. You both revel in post coiatal bliss as Johnny lets you down, and your legs almost instantly give out having been turned to jello. You walk against the wall in order to make it to the bathroom so you can pee.         

Walking back in you see that Johnny has moved towards the bed the post nut clarity still in the forefront of his mind. You crawl under the covers and onto Johnny. You almost doze off to sleep until you hear his voice, “You want to get married?”.

[elliestormfound]

Demon Jaskier Demon Jaskier Demon Jaskier Dem-

Dear anon, thank you for your ask! I’m not sure if you just wanted to share your excitement about the thought of demon!Jaskier, but I accidentally wrote a fic  about it... :D

this is a bit sexier than my usual fics, but nothing too graphic, but definitely +18

CW: talk about sex and a bit of sexy kissing time in the end

read on ao3

---------

“Tell me your name,” Geralt demanded in a dangerously calm voice. 

The witcher could smell a whiff of burnt flesh from where his silver blade pressed against the delicate skin of the demon’s throat, hard enough to dent but not pierce it. He knew the true name of the demon could have power over them but he was under no illusion that the demon would offer it that easily. 

And the fucking demon had the audacity to smile at him.

Geralt increased the pressure of his sword tip slightly.

“Whoa, careful,” the demon said, “can’t answer your question if you cut my throat.”

But Geralt did not move, eyeing the demon closely. Two twisted horns protruded from tousled brown hair and uncannily intensive blue eyes looked back at him. The demon had some kind of otherworldly...beauty to him. But otherwise he looked almost human. 

“You can call me...” the demon began, looking away from the witcher, eyes searching the ground. A moment later he smiled back up at Geralt, “Jaskier.”

A single eyebrow raised, the witcher snorted, “buttercup?” With this sort of fake name Geralt would not be able to banish this cheeky bastard.

The demon - Jaskier - just grinned at him. Geralt nearly rolled his eyes, but he schooled his face back into a blank expression. 

“What do you want?” he asked through gritted teeth, remembering why he was here: not to chat with the demon about his choice of fake names but to find out what he had done to the village women and how to reverse it before sending him back to whatever hell dimension he had crawled out of. 

“What have you done to the women?”

Jaskier grinned lewdly and winked.

“You are sleeping with those women,” Geralt growled, no more confirmation needed, “did you also impregnate them?”

The witcher knew that some demons did that. Their offspring from human women could help anchor them to this realm, giving them easy access. 

“Imp...of course I’m not impregnating them,” Jaskier said indignantly, and as an afterthought adding a moment later, “I am not ready to be a father.”

Geralt growled, “don’t joke with me.”

“I’m not joking,” Jaskier said, holding up his hands, “the women didn’t summon me to impregnate them.”

“The women summoned you?” Geralt asked, unbelieving, searching Jaskier’s face for any signs of lying and finding none. But that didn’t mean much with a demon.

“Of course they summoned me,” Jaskier said, “why else would I be in this tiny village in the middle of nowhere?”

Good point, Geralt thought but didn’t say it out loud. 

Instead he asked, “why did they summon you?” 

The demon tried to laugh, but it quickly turned into coughing. “I’ll tell you, when you remove this from my throat,” he said, pointing at the sword, “talking like this is rather unpleasant.”

“You seem to talk just fine,” Geralt mumbled, but moved the blade a few centimeters away, still close enough to keep the demon in place, but not touching his skin anymore.

Jaskier exhaled and smiled at Geralt. 

Carefully rubbing his burned skin at the throat, he said, “thank you, my dear witcher.”

Geralt growled, “now tell me why the women summoned you.” He wanted to see where this was going. 

But of course did the demon not answer him directly. How he hated demons. 

“Do you know what kind of demon I am, witcher?” he asked in a velvety soft voice. 

Geralt looked him up and down.

“The alderman said you are a demon of adultery and that you make the women frigid.”

The demon laughed hollowly. “Yes, of course the old fucker said that,” Jaskier replied after a moment, sounding amused and pissed off at the same time.

“You can probably find me in the bestiary of yours,” he said, gesturing vaguely at Geralt, “under L: ‘demon of lust’.” 

Geralt just lifted a brow, “yes, I know about your funny little bestiaries,” Jaskier went on,” you aren’t the first witcher I’ve met.” His unearthly blue eyes sparkled and he winked at Geralt. The fucker actually winked at him.

“Come to the point,” he growled, silver sword still pointed at his throat.

Jaskier laughed again as if they were having a casual chat amongst friends and not an interrogation at swordpoint. And of course - the demon did not ‘come to the point’. The bastard really liked to hear himself talk.

“One of the women found a text with instructions how to summon me and she and a few of her friends made a nice little ritual and poof - here I was. They snatched me right out of a delightful little orgy in Novigrad...”

Geralt lifted his brows and tilted his head slightly.

“These lovely women, my dear witcher, summoned me,” Jaskier said, lifting his index finger in emphasis, “because their useless husbands do not satisfy them.”

Geralt huffed and asked with a smirk, “so that is what they wanted you to do? Satisfy them?”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, smiling, “they wanted me to fuck them silly, introduce them to the wonders of the orgasm. And that is what I did.” He had a dreamy look on his face, eyes glazed over as if he was thinking back to said fucking. 

After a moment he shook his head, focusing on Geralt again and continued, “I also showed them how to…” he wiggled his fingers, “pleasure themselves. I don’t plan to stay longer than strictly necessary and didn’t want to leave them….wanting.”

“So you fucked them and showed them how to...masturbate?” This was getting more and more ridiculous.

“Yes, most of these poor women never really touched themself,” Jaskier said, shaking his head, and with audible anger in his voice he continued, “this bastard of a priest told them that their hands would fall off if they touched their own body in that way, that only their husbands were allowed to touch them ’down there’.” The demon pointed towards his own crotch as he said the last two words. 

“The alderman - do you know what his wife told me?” the demon went on, head tilted and watching Geralt closely, “she told me that when her husband fucks her, it feels like he is just using her body to pleasure himself and that he is convinced that women are simply not able to get any pleasure from sex.” Jaskier shook his head.

“But don’t get me wrong,” he continued, “their husbands are not all bad. A bit more marital communication, actually listening to their wives and chasing away the dreadful priest and most of them can be happy in bed together…”

“And what did those women give you for...your services?” Geralt asked a moment later. 

The demon furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Demons usually demand payment from their… victims,” Geralt clarified. 

The demon put his hands on his hips and opened his mouth, blinking a few times before he said, “victims? They summoned me, if anyone is the victim here, it’s me!”

Geralt huffed and said, “did you get their souls? Ten years of their lives? Their firstborn?”

Jaskier shook his head. “Why would I want that? I got amazing sex and I got to show them how to satiate their own lust. There is nothing more to want.”

They both whipped their heads to the side as they heard hurried footsteps rushing through the forest towards them. A moment later they saw the figure of a woman and a moment after they heard her screaming, “stop, master witcher, don’t hurt him.”

Geralt still pointed the sword at Jaskier’s throat when the woman came to a halt next to them, breathing heavily. Three deep in- and exhales later she raised herself to her full height, looked Geralt firm in the eyes and said, “please don’t kill him, he did not hurt any of us.” The woman laid her hand on Jaskier’s shoulder who grinned at her.

“Hello, Kasia,” he said in his velvety voice and the woman smiled back brightly.

Geralt coughed to get their attention back. 

“Are you one of the women from the village?” he asked, pointing in the general direction of said village. 

“Yes!” she replied, still a bit out of breath, “I sneaked out of the house as I heard Lukas, my husband, talk to our neighbor about hiring a witcher to kill him.”

She tried to squeeze herself between Jaskier and the blade, but the demon carefully grabbed her arm to stop her. 

“Do you believe me now, witcher?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt shook his head, more to clear his thoughts and school his features back to an unreadable expression than to deny what Jaskier had asked. 

“He did not hurt you?” Geralt asked the woman, “did not do anything against your will?” 

“No,” Kasia said urgently, “he only did what we asked him to do and it was really...hmmm….nice,” she ended in a dreamy voice. 

Geralt watched Jaskier closely for another moment longer before he slowly lowered his sword and took a few steps back. Kasia exhaled loudly and hugged the demon. Jaskier patted her on the back and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle.

“Okay, I will head back before Lukas will notice I’m gone,” she said. With a bow to Geralt she made her way back towards the village. 

Geralt sheathed his sword and he and Jaskier stood silent for a while, eyeing each other.

Geralt was the first one to break the silence.

“Is that your true form?” he asked. A lot of demons were able to shapeshift and it would explain why the few men who had a glimpse of the demon had given him wildly contradictory descriptions.

“I can take many forms,” Jaskier said, stretching his arms wide, “I shape my appearance to the pleasure of my partner. I can be a man, a woman and anyone in between or outside of that…”

He was smiling softly at Geralt and continued, “for some of the women here it was quite unexpected to find out that they weren’t actually interested in men...And one woman wasn’t interested in sex at all. We had a lovely evening, drank a bottle of wine and played gwent.”

“So this is the form your last partner desired? This Kasia?” Geralt asked after a moment, still eyeing him closely. Now that he was standing a few steps away he had a better view of the demon. His pale cheeks were flushed a shade of pink that matched his plush lips. And he either had the darkest lashes Geralt had ever seen or he used kohl to highlight their unearthly blue color. His black shirt clung tightly to his broad shoulders, dark chest hair peeking out the loosely laced front and his high waisted trousers accentuating his slim waist.

“No, darling,” Jaskier said, licking his lips and taking a step towards him, “this form is all for you.” He was moving his hands up and down his body in a presentation. Geralt didn’t know why his heartbeat suddenly picked up and his hands got clammy. 

“You’ve got good taste, I must admit,” Jaskier said, slowly turning around and swinging his hips. 

“What…?” Geralt asked. He had a hard time keeping his pupils from dilating. As Jaskier turned Geralt could see that the high waisted trousers not only accentuated his waist but also his round…

“Are you enjoying what you see, witcher?” Jaskier purred.

Geralt coughed and blinked before regaining his composure. Jaskier just smirked and took another step towards the witcher.

“So the alderman will not pay you,” Jaskier said suddenly. Geralt hummed in confirmation. Jaskier licked his lips and Geralt’s eyes followed the tip of his tongue. 

He shook his head and growled but made no attempt to step away, “are you using your powers on me?” 

Jaskier shook his head, “that is not how I work, darling, I cannot force anyone to do anything they don’t want to.”

A heartbeat later he stood only a breath away from Geralt.

“What I can do is offer something you desire. But it is completely your choice if you take it.”

“And,” Geralt asked in a hoarse voice, “what do you want?”

Jaskier smiled, looking hungrily at Geralt’s lips.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wouldn't want you.”

The demon lifted his hand slowly, stroked a rogue strand of his white hair behind Geralt’s ear and said softly, “so what do you say?”

Geralt swallowed, still not moving away. He could feel Jaskier’s breath on his face, so close was the demon. 

“You could have overpowered me at any time, couldn’t you?” Geralt asked, “even with my silver sword at your throat?”

Jaskier just smiled and nodded.

“Why didn’t you?” Geralt asked, breathless.

“Because you like to be in control, don’t you?” the demon purred, his index finger stroking down Geralt’s chest.

And with a motion too quick even for Geralt, Jaskier had stepped behind him, captured both of his wrists in his surprisingly strong hands and pushed Geralt's chest against a tree, holding him securely in place. Geralt wiggled around but found that the demon was surprisingly strong. But somehow he wasn’t afraid. 

Jaskier’s grip was firm but gentle.

“But sometimes,” he whispered in Geralt’s ear, tickling the sensitive skin there with his hot breath, “it is nice to let go and let someone else take over, isn’t it?”

Geralt shuddered and leaned back into Jaskier’s warm body. 

“So you want to play with me, witcher?” Jaskier breathed against his ear.

“Yes,” Geralt said before he felt hot lips pressed to his neck kissing a trail from his ear to his shoulder.

A heartbeat later his breath caught in his throat as he felt Jaskier open his mouth to press sharp canines against the soft skin of his neck, hard enough to dent but not pierce it and he groaned. 

-------

Tag list:

@jaskierswolf @geraskier-trashh @hailhailsatan @panerato @marvagon @x-anxious @moonysourenza @kaktusbambus @wildonewrites @dapandapod

let me know if I should put you on or remove you from my tag list :)

(I have the feeling I forgot someone who had asked me to be tagged, if that is so, please let me know that I can add you again, sorry!)

[sibsteria]

all the angels [cast & angels & chuck]

prompts: ''run away with me''

summary: [bare with me, this is a long summary and concept] throughout the decades, y/n and the angels lived in harmony, her being the only being with powers on par with chuck. an immortal life with your angels sounds good, doesn't it? something goes wrong and y/n gets projected into the world of the spn actors. she had never met god, despite being made for the angels because of him. the thing is, she doesn't remember anything of her life with the angels and this messes with reality. the world of reality, along with y/n, are all magically convinced she has always been in their universe as a fellow cast mate. what happens when most of her favourite angels and a certain hellish man team up to collect her in the middle of a con?

characters: Rob Benedict, Richard Speight Jr, Mark Pellegrino, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Sebastian Roche, Chuck Shurley, Gabriel, Castiel, Lucifer, Balthazar, Crowley

warnings: I dreamt something along the lines of this and it's just pure crack, I apologise, fluff, angst, everyone is single because it gets weird. I wrote this at 4am :/

---

''So let's talk about Y/n's character! She hasn't been explained too much but we know her backstory.'' Wow, thank you, Mark Sheppard.

''Well, I'm pretty sure the fans already know.'' I shrug, but a glare from the man before me makes me roll my eyes.

''Come on, don't leave them in the dust, also sharing a name with your character is weird right?'' He teases me, I resist the urge to walk over and playfully slap him.

''Fine. She was created by God to please the angels in whatever way they needed, with her consent obviously. She creates a connection with Gabriel and their connection become the focus of her life, until she meets Crowley-'' I look over at Sheppard and paint a fake scowl on my face, sending the audience into light laughter. ''-who is also vying for her attention, but as you all know, she had been killed off at the end of the last season. Y'all didn't see that blinding golden light and her disappearing act?'' I raise my eyebrow at the crowd. They murmur amongst themselves.

''Are you sure she was killed off?'' Richard snickers from next to me. ''What if her dear Gabe just snapped her away for some-'' He wags his eyebrows to out fans. ''-angel on paragon action.''

''It's literally in the script shut up- or you know, believe this idiot.'' I smile, showing I meant no offense

''Scripts change! You know that!'' Misha reasons, aggressively.

''I suppose so.'' Leaving audiences in an unsolved mystery is the fun of cons.

---

Sitting in the green room, it's sweaty and warm after the panel. We are instantly greeted by our colleagues awaiting their next instructions such as Mark Pellegrino, Sebastian Roche and Rob Benedict.

''Welcome back, you little bastards.'' Sebastian's voice rings throughout the room, I groan, faceplanting onto the couch where Rob sat, fiddling with an acoustic guitar.

We sat, talked, ate, I napped, yknow the usual.

---

''So, do you think they will bring you back for the next season?'' Misha asks, I bite my lip and answer him.

''I have no idea, no one has said anything so maybe not. I'll be joining our widdle Kings of Con if not.'' I give a baby voice when talking about the couple that is R2.

''Hey!'' Rob's voice wavers in his distinct little way.

''Rude of you to call me little.'' Richard winks and I shoot gag at him, he feigns a frown.

''In other news-'' Mark Pellegrino's cut-in is interrupted by a blinding golden light, surrounding the room. I grip onto Rob's arm as the ground begins to shake, burring my head into his chest, I cover my eyes from the light. He holds me back just as tight, hiding in the comfort of my shoulder. One of many weird, intimate moments with him that makes people believe we are together.

A loud, pitched, sound rattles around us. A few of us scream in pain but I just whimper and move closer into Rob.

Suddenly, everything stops and stills.

I can't force myself to move.

''What the fuck?!'' I hear Misha, making me not want to move even more.

''Ha! Look, she's cuddling you. Awe.'' I hear Richard's voice, but it wasn't him, it didn't sound like him. I pull myself away from Rob's chest and look at the scene unfolding.

'What the fuck?'' I whisper, repeating Collins' earlier comment. Stood here, a few feet in front of us are Gabriel, Balthazar, Castiel, Crowley, Lucifer and Chuck. Did I miss something?

''Not happy to see us, darlin'?'' Gabriel smirks, a foot of his approaches me, I look at them in confusion and shock.

''W-What's going on?'' That is the first time I have ever heard Pellegrino stutter.

''We should probably talk...'' Chuck wavers his hands to us all, motioning us to listen to him.

''So, uh, Y/n here? She's our Y/n, from our reality and we kinda want her back.'' Gabriel shuffles his weight between each of his feet, I'm in too much terror to even speak, so is everyone else.

''You hear him, dickbags? We want her back.'' Lucifer crosses his arms, staring dead into Pellegrino's soul, presumably to make him uncomfortable.

''I don't understand-'' I stop myself, leaving it at that.

''Wait, do you not remember?'' Gabriel looks at me, broken eyes reflect his inside pain.

''Of course she doesn't, you bollock! Can't you see the look on her face?'' Crowley rolls his eyes but for some reason I can sense his true sadness.

''I will explain, better.'' Castiel takes a step towards me. ''You are Y/n Divine, our Divine, your the celestial from our existence. Your our...?'' He struggles to find the words, Balthazar answers for him. Not the lot of explaining I need there, Cas.

''Our collective soulmate, so to speak.'' He nods.

''Yeah, that's who I am in Supernatural but- this isn't the show, this is reality. I gotta be dreaming, oh my God-'' Chuck interferes (doesn't he always).

''That's me.'' The nervous laugh from the bearded almighty almost makes me laugh, almost, but the situation was too real for it. ''Would it help if I...showed you?'' He says, unsure of his choice of words.

For some reason, I pour my trust into him, and walk towards the clone of my almost boyfriend, I wished.

''Mind if I show all of you?'' Chuck asks, before ignoring some of the 'no's in the room and he snaps, bringing us into a dream state.

Scenes flow through our brains, ones that weren't in the show

---

Dressed in a white kaftan with golden afflictions, there was Y/n, lay in the greenest of grass. And next to her? Gabriel the Archangel. Almost in a Bella-Edward meadow position, the two looked into each other, reading one another's soul.

''Run away with me.'' Gabriel whispers, lighter than air.

''What?'' She snaps out of her dreamy daze.

''Let's leave, you don't need any other angel that isn't me.'' This breaks her heart, although Gabriel was her favourite and the one she had a special connection with, she had a duty to remain near the other angels.

''I want to-'' Gabe's heart lifts but sank soon after. ''-but you know I can't. I wasn't created to defy my purpose, I would cease to exist if I did.'' A tear rolls down her cheek, the light from the fading sun rested gracefully on her skin.

''I know. Oh, what was I thinking? My father will come after us and- I would rather now think about what he would do to us, to you.'' He looks away from her to relish in his pain.

''Don't be like that, my little Aurelian enchanter-'' She mentions the colour of his golden wings, which lay across the ground behind him, a beautiful sight. ''-the time will come where no angel needs me, then I can devote myself to you, only you.'' She mumbles, pressing a sure kiss to the peak of his nose. He huffs in a peaceful array of emotion.

''At least you don't kiss any other of my brothers or estranged family.'' He nudges back at her, nose to nose.

---

''That was sickening to watch.'' Pellegrino chuckles into the dark abyss of our voices, unable to see each other but still recognising each other within the blindness.

''Shall I show you another one?'' A rhetorical question from the Lord from above, as he whisks us into another memory.

---

She sat on a bench, clad in elegancy, the world was still new and beaming. New angels were being created, not all of them needed a divine celestial to aid them, so she spent her days watching the creations live. The bees harvesting pollen from the flowers was one of her favourite sights.

She felt an angelic presence appear next to her, but a new one, an unknown one.

''Who might you be?'' She asks, not tearing her eyes away from the fuzz of a creature.

''I am Castiel.'' Short and stat, seems like the kind of being he was, without a vessel he could be read more easily.

''No vessel yet, I assume?'' She looks towards the beam of light beside her.

''No, not yet. I hardly think there's a need for such a thing.'' His voice was the most beautiful she had heard, of all the angels, no vessel and no front made him so much more enticing.

''Well, nice to meet you. You're wings...they're black? Pretty though, new as well.'' She smiled at Castiel, his aura positively increased, the interaction helping them both. Just a simple amount of time in company can help an angel.

''Thank you.''

---

''So that's Castiel?'' Misha seems uneasy.

''Would you like to see the encounter between her and his vessel?''

---

She sat, with Balthazar, just grooming his beautiful wings. An act she did for her most favourite angels.

''Have you seen Castiel's vessel?'' He smiles up at her, in his own vessel.

''Not yet but I am excited though, from the comments I'm hearing, he is a most handsome fellow.'' She brushes past a certain spot, making Bal shiver in delight, not in a sexual manner.

''Ugh, like you don't find yourself infatuated with my golden winged brother already, don't go falling for another one.'' He groans in disgust, she laughs, melodically.

''I can promise you, I won't.'' That was a future lie.

''Hello, Y/n.'' A new voice from behind her, sensing the energy, she knew it was Cas.

A wide grin stretches across her features, ''Castiel!'' She shouts, whipping round to face the angel in his new restrictions. ''My, my, good choice, my angel.'' A nickname specifically reserved for the defying being.

''I would say 'thank you', but it would be a most similar and repetitive interaction.'' She sighs in relaxation, reliving her first encounter with Castiel.

''You are always welcome, you're one of my favourites.'' She boops his nose, squeaking 'boop' at the same time, Cas cocks his head in confusion.

''Boop?'' He questions her, she shrugs her shoulders.

''You're cute, so I booped you.'' She giggles, Castiel couldn't refuse the stutter in his 'emotions' as she spoke.

''Okay.''

---

I heard Mark Sheppard's voice throughout the void, ''YoU'rE cUtE, sO i BoOpEd YoU!'' His badgering voice pointing fun at me.

''Shut up.'' I mumble.

---

It was beautiful, the winding waterfall gushing down the rocks, watching it flow. She sat, in deep thought, things between Lucifer and Michael were getting tense, she was scared for the future.

''You don't need to worry about us, my little cherub.'' Lucifer's voice mixed eloquently with the sound of the waves slowly connecting the lake below.

''It's part of my job, I couldn't help it if I tried.'' She shrugged, she stared at the water, taking in the fresh air.

''I know that things aren't simple, they never will be, just know you will always have me. I have never spoken to anyone in such a tone before, you should be honoured, little one.'' This made her accumulate, she leaned back into hold, he was a median temperature. It was nice.

''My Lucifer.'' She grinned in thought. ''You always have been the most intriguing, I will never give up on you, I promise you that.'' She craned her neck to look at the blonde, before pressing the smallest of kisses to his jaw. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so honest with himself, and she wouldn't again for some time.

---

''My dear, this is too dangerous. You are not a warrior, you are a healer and an abettor. I can't let you, I'm sorry.'' Crowley's gruff rumble soaked the thin air, she wanted to fight for her angels- with her angels. She held the power, but not the will.

''I was made for this moment, this is my purpose, I have to do something.'' She pleads, tears stinging her eyes.

''Listen to me, darling, they need you alive more than you're help. Listen to what I'm saying, although I am nonpartisan, I can't remain unbiased. I fear that my little, fascination with you is what keeps you safe. The angels may not love it, but it keeps you safe whilst they handle their own. They want you safe, so that is what I will do.'' His short monologue seemed to flip something within Y/n, she stayed silent for a moment, reeling in thought. Hearing his repetition of the word safe just made her wish the same for her angels.

''I-I guess you're right. I don't want anything to happen to them, you remember last time, when it all-'' She couldn't bring herself to continue, relishing in the agony of remembering when Lucifer was cast.

''Yes, my dear, and you nearly got caught in the crossfire. It can't happen again, there is no other being like you and there never will be. The stories are that God nearly killed himself trying to create you, you are everything he wanted humanity to be.'' She smiled at this, he was trying to cheer her up with a bit of complimenting. ''Even if you are stubborn.'' She slapped his chest, as a farce and let out a small cachinnate.

---

Everyone was silent, things started to get heavy on thought and reason. No one could think of a word to say.

''One more for good measure, then we will asses you, Y/n.'' Uh, what does that mean?

---

The quiet air that surrounded the two was comforting and safe, content and peaceful. Y/n and Gabriel sat opposite one another, his wings lay in her lap as she did what she does best. Her hands traced up the outer lining of his wings, from top to bottom, before moving in the the inner feathers. She rolled a collection of feathers between her fingers each time she moving a few inches down, softly and gently. Working out the stress and the tightness that wound itself within them, he holds onto her knee, using it as a gripping post every once in a while. It wasn't a pain thing though, it was quite the opposite, the gratification and the bliss he was receiving from such a special moment was intense.

''I don't know why, I think your wings are my favourite.'' She hums out, brushing out the feathers she had been fixing in a swoop from the height of his wing and downwards, before moving on to the next section.

''Oh, really?'' Gabriel couldn't resist the playful tone residing in his comment, but that was what Y/n loved, he wasn't afraid to tease her.

''Without a doubt, they're mesmerising. Such a beautiful colour, and shape. They suit you so well.'' Slowly, she leans forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, before gently pulling herself back.

''Come on, sweetheart! You can do better than that-'' His voice is cut off by a staggering gasp as she unwinds a knot in his feather,  gripping her knee tight, he swoons.

She doesn't say a word, yet she picks up her head again, craning towards the angel's face. While continuing to brush out his ailerons of flight, she kisses him again, direct and strong. She moves against his lips with such care but much passion, Gabriel couldn't resist the slip of his tongue to her, she wasn't in any way complaining.

---

''Okay, that was upsetting to watch.'' Richard grumbles, we find ourselves back inside the green room, standing in front of us remain Chuck and Gabriel.

''You're telling me.'' I let a slanted expression reach my face.

''You mean you still don't remember?'' Gabriel's frown tugs at my heart, I feel something for him, but not as immense as what we have been watching.

''I have something that might work, but it might...do something?'' Chuck gives out a nervous chuckle, small and barely there.

''Do it, I need her back, I don't care about the consequences unless it hurts her.'' The strain and torment in his intonation is dismal.

''It won't hurt her, but it might- never mind, if it happens then it happens, if it doesn't then you will be happy you didn't know.'' Chuck walks towards me with purpose and I cower back slightly, a stern alarm on my face.

''W-Woah there, what are you doing?'' I reach out my hands in a 'stop' motion, he grabs hold of them.

''Bringing back your memory, I need you to focus on the moments you just watched, think about how you felt during them.'' I thought back, I felt as if I was the girl in the grass, and in heaven and the girl who loved the angels. I revelled in the select memories, the beautiful memories. ''Good, carry on thinking about them and how you felt.''

I felt a warmth surge through my hands, as they remained connected to Chuck's.

''It's working.'' I peek open my eyes and look down at our hands. Mine are white and hold a holy glow, my eyes widen as I look at the magic.

''This is you?'' I ask, Chuck shakes his head.

''It's you, well, it's us. You have your own powers, but this kind can only be used when I am touching you. You know you have angelic advantages, from the show?'' He explains in a way I understand, I nod. ''D-Do you want to remember this world? Along with your true one?'' I bit my lip before answering.

''I would, some people I can't let go.'' I look towards Rob, who stood off towards the side, the group of my colleagues still in shock of the situation, some whispering to each other.

''I see. Are you ready?'' The heat is getting more intense in my hands, a burning hot white light shines from then.

''I think so.''

''I need to warn you, you may not like what could happen next.'' He unclasps our hands before reaching up to sandwich my head between them. It wasn't painful, it was peculiar, my body went numb. This took around a minute before he took his hands of me.

My mind and his instantly travelled to a secluded world. It was barren and empty, but beautiful, Red sand and burnt skies surrounded me, small oasis' patched around. The sun was in a constant set, never going up nor down.

''Where are we?'' I asked Chuck, he was dressed in a white pant and shirt, I looked down towards myself. I was enclosed by a gorgeous lengthy white garment, a golden sash across my waist.

''We're in your head. How are you feeling?'' I smile.

''Like myself, thanks Chuck, nice to meet you by the way- can't believe I haven't said that yet, after all Gabe has told me.''

''Um, okay, this is going to be awkward to ask. What do you feel? When you look at me, that is.''

''Hm...'' I look into his soft eyes. I felt as if I belonged there, like it was home. My whole existence within his soul.

''That's- not good.'' He must have read me, because I didn't say that out loud. I widen my eyes, starting to panic. ''I-I mean, it could be? It depends how you feel on the matter.'' He tries to soothe me.

''Explain.'' Was all I said.

''We- well. I've linked us, not on purpose. You're life's fulfilment is with me now, along with the angels. I'm not your creator anymore, I'm your equal. Yet you are not light nor dark, your the meld of both, a mediator if you will. The love for the angels, can be found within myself now. I'm sorry, I never thought it would actually happen.'' I'm guessing this is the first time he has ever apologised, I don't know how but- I feel like I know everything about him. The almost humanitarian way he dabbles jn his powers is confronting.

''Yes, that's another edge you have, you know everything about me now, you know who I am and what I've done.'' He looks ashamed and off to the side.

''You may not be proud of who you are, but I am-'' I hold his hand and turn his head with my other. ''You're the creator, just because you have done bad things, does not mean you're a bad person.'' I feel like I've known him my whole life, I technically have. He remains silent.

''We will have our time, go seem them. If you ever need to see me and I'm not around, think of this place and I'll meet you here, no matter how far apart we are.'' He extracts us from the sanctuary.

I'm back in my own body, looking around at the awkward faces of my peers. We must have been stood, staring into space for some time.

''Hey-''I turn to Gabe as he speaks, walking towards him before I stop dead in my tracks. I swiftly run back to Chuck, slamming my lips against his, I feel my heart stutter in the shock of my own actions. He kisses me back with much more passion, before I pull away. I look at Rob, his mouth his hung open, using my power I look into his head.

He's shocked and- jealous. He thinks it's invigorating to see a version of himself kiss you. Realising he could've admitted his feelings to you, perhaps you wouldn't have gone back to them.

''Well- okay, that's new.'' Gabriel mutters, his voice cracks in the middle of his speech.

I turn and run towards Gabe.

''Don't worry, you're still my favourite.'' He yanks me into a hug, pulling me into a compact hug, I wrap my legs around his waist.

He whispers some enochian into my ear, I bite my lip and smile. Along the lines of 'should I book the hotel now or later?'.

''You know full well we don't need to do that.'' I couldn't help but tease him back, he sighs in content, happy to have us back.

''I'm- confused, what the fuck is going on?'' Sebastian calls.

''If you want, you can make them forget, Y/n.'' Chuck announces, a valley of yelling and protests wash over me from the Supernatural cast.

''Can I? It could be for the best...'' I trail off, the cast look at me with hurt in their eyes, I decide to communicate with Rob through his head.

'Rob' He looks around, alarmed. 'I'm in your mind, don't panic'

'How could you? I know you aren't meant to be here but please don't make me forget you' I could hear the pain within him.

'I won't completely, you'll know me, but not as who I am. You will know me as your colleague and friend, I'll visit you'

'I love you, I'm sorry I never said it' I heard his heart shatter.

'I love you too, maybe we can develop something in the future' Maybe I was asking too much of myself, maybe not.

''You ready to go back?'' Chuck waltzes toward me and Gabriel. ''Other angels want to see you, I can hear them, it's rather annoying.'' I smile at the thought of seeing them all again, this time knowing who they are to me.

''I think so.'' I turn back to say my goodbyes.

''Misha, you are one of the most genuine and kind people this Earth can offer, I'm so happy I met you.'' I move forward to hug him, channelling my power, as soon as I leave this plane it will activate- leaving them in the state they were before.

''Mr. Sheppard, you smarmy bastard, never change. The world couldn't take it. I'll see you soon.'' I step forward to hug him.

''My, my, Pellegrino, a tear? Not going soft on me, are you?'' He shakes his head, rolling his eyes at me. ''I'll miss you and your karaoke.'' I hug him, he holds on a little longer, refusing to let me go. I look at him with sad eyes, before turning to Sebastian.

''You and your attitude Roche, you're such a light person, you'll see me again and I promise you that. Keep up the humour, you're not yourself without it.'' I hug him, ejecting a powerful wave.

''Richard, I will admit you are my best friend, even when you're trying to sleep with everything that walks. Take care of Robbie for me, I won't be too long before my next visit, so hold on.'' I grip him in my arms, pulling gently on his beard as we part, before getting mockingly swatted away.

I couldn't sat goodbye to Rob, looking at his disheartened face. ''R-Robbie-'' I tried not to cry, saying goodbye to so many friends is breaking me.

''I can't explain how much you mean to me, I love you, in every way you can imagine. I love you all.'' I hug Rob, not wanting to let go.

''Please don't go.'' His whimper makes me finally let out tears.

''I need to. I promise I'll return.'' I think about my next action, before deciding on it.

'Pull away if you don't want this.' I say to him, his head is swimming with agony.

Kissing him, very lightly, I feel tears mix on my lips. I pull away before I get too attached.

''Gonna miss you, so much.'' He whispers to me, clutching my shirt in his hands.

''I have to go, bye Benedict, till we meet again.'' I try to spin a comedic affect into my words, stepping away from my best friends.

Chuck holds out his hands, Gabriel and I connect to them. I shut my eyes, I can't face what I'm leaving behind. I feel a golden illumination against my shut eyelids.

It's not forever, but I will miss them.

[sweetestlamb]

No Limits

Summary: Today's episode but minus the lies and with extra sexual tension but it gets resolved, somewhat.

Author's note: Today's episode called me a 🤡 too so in between writing my update for BMTL I wrote this drabble to ease my pain I love that the show keeps teasing us I really do it's delicious but I just wanted them to kiss sooooo badly today so here we go! I could keep going if people like 👀👀👀

P.s. Can an Italian tell me what exactly Vinny said to her in episode 3? Netflix says it was stupid idiot but that's stupida idiota and that doesn't sound like what he said to her in the clip. Help a writer out 🥺

She doesn't know if her father would be proud of her, or what she's been doing after turning away from Babel and reforming into a "good guy", it's borderline sanctimonious to consider herself a hero when she had spent most of the night torturing people. The ominous sound of toxic gas flooding the car still swooshes in her head, there was a moment when she'd truly considered going through with it.

Committing murder.

And he hadn't moved a single muscle to stop her, hadn't even uttered her name to pull her back in on the straight and narrow path to righteousness. In the end that had been enough to stop her, he trusted her enough to make the right decision. Every fiber of her being wanted to snuff out their lives the same way they had done to those innocent suffering families, but it was a line she couldn't return from. She should save it for a special occasion, they weren't worth tainting her soul. But there was someone else who was, Babo.

When the opportunity came, she wouldn't hesitate. Her father would have to look away because she wouldn't be stopping that time.

Before she realizes it they are outside her house, her late father's house and he's telling her good night. She'd ran out of excuses to keep sleeping at his apartment. Wanting to see him first thing when she woke up wasn't a reason she could say out loud to him, at least not sober. She was no longer scared of bumps in the night, being alone seemed more terrifying now.

"Drink with me." She whispers instead, falling back on a tried and true plan. They have become regular drinking buddies, using alcohol to cope and detach from the heinous things they see and do daily.

He looks over at her, wistful and searching before nodding solemnly. He unbuckles his belt and slides out of the car, though it is marginal she can see the hesitation in his movement and the night catches up with her. The blood is soaked into the pristine white of his collar, she recalls the hollow feeling in her chest when he didn't answer her calls and she was left with her torturous imagination. His possible death making desperate tears fall despite promising herself she wouldn't cry again.

She makes her way to the bathroom as soon as she enters the eerily quiet space, noticing the way Vincenzo peeks around the corner always on guard and she's thankful for his presence. With him, she's safe.

Pulling open her medicine cabinet she collects packets of gauze, a small bottle of antiseptic alcohol and a bandage, holding the small bundle in her arms before walking back to the living room. She finds him staring at the embarrassing photos of herself that her father had hung on the walls, she couldn't bring herself to take them down. There was so little of her father left.

"Don't let the hair fool you, I was still a heartbreaker back then. I had boys chasing after me." She lies with a smile and when he turns to look at her with those huge eyes she pauses mid step, his eyes survey her face in a distracting sweep before he smirks and walks away.

Maybe summer has come early, that would explain the sudden overwhelming heat that curls around her.

Shaking herself from her daze she calls out to him, "Hey! Come here before you bleed to death. I don't want the mafia coming after me."

The look on his face is his patent I'm going to refuse because I'm a pouty baby look and she intercepts it as she has become custom to doing, grabbing his hand and yanking him over to the kitchen table. For someone so intelligent he still hasn't learned that his refusals are futile around her.

"I'm fine. It's a shallow wound, it'll stop on its own." He argues and she wonders how many other times he has simply left a wound to fester and painfully heal on its own, was that his penance?

She shakes her head, "Why suffer when I can help you? Stop being so stubborn you're reminding me of a certain patient who you love scolding." He grows chillingly still at her words, and again a thought tingles in her mind that there's something she's missing but she presses it aside and pushes him down into the seat.

He doesn't put up a fight, going a little too easily.

"Open your shirt."

He stares at a point on the wall across the room, not responding to her command at all at first and then he looks up at her with dark eyes. She swallows deeply, raising a single brow.

When he continues to look at her without obeying her instructions she grows impatient, repeating herself, "Come on open your shirt I need to clean the wound."

Still he doesn't react and she carelessly tosses the supplies on the table, reaching out with steady fingers to unbutton his starched white shirt. He discarded the jacket earlier, so there are less layers obstructing her way. His face is unreadable as she grabs the smooth button and slips it through the hole, she gets two buttons undone before reaching the center of his chest and as if jolting back to life he suddenly grabs her hand halting her movement.

She stares at him in question, hands still on the button before he sighs at her, "I can do it myself." There's a tightness in his jaw that she can't explain and she has to stomp out the desire to run a finger across that sharp jawline.

"Okay. You do it."

Looking away she tries to give him some space but the sounds of him undressing capture her full attention and she feels her eyes shifting back captivated by the fluid motion of those dangerous hands. Knowing what they are capable of does nothing to douse the fire under her skin. Frustratedly he has a thin white shirt under the dress shirt and she can only faintly see his toned body through the material. She stares harder willing herself to develop x-ray vision, unfortunately those powers do no manifest.

"Surely I don't need to get shirtless right?" He inquires with a smug air and she glares at him, they've been playing this game for a while now. Longer than two adults should be as far as she's concerned.

In lieu of responding she picks up a fluffy cotton ball and saturates it in alcohol before dabbing at the blood on the nape of his neck, as she swipes higher he hisses at the sting and she remembers what her father would do for her when she was young and had scraped her knee. Leaning over his shoulder she puckers her lips and blows, cooling the burn.

She continues this until the cotton is soaked from the dried blood and alcohol and blowing one final time she draws back, this time she feels smugness simmering in her belly. His eyes are blown and pointedly looking away from her, she notices his tight knuckle grip on the seat of the chair as well.

"I'm all done." She announces moving away walking to the small garbage in the corner of the room. His breaths are loud in the quiet of the room, her heart echoes in tandem. Taking a deep breath she speaks without turning around, "You remember where the clothes are right? Get changed so we can drink."

She moves to the fridge to take out the platters of food they had purchased at the market earlier and the bottles of makgeolli, it was that kind of night.

He looks soft and harmless when he comes back out in a large knit sweater, without gel his hair flops across his smooth forehead and she's still not used to this sight, there's a level of domesticity that she's never had with another person. A man.

"I'll go change too." She whispers sidestepping around him, her hands brushing against his.

It's easy to get lost in their escape, slamming back gulp after gulp of the strong cloudy rice wine until her thoughts start to blur and she doesn't know what she's saying out loud and what's only privy to her brain.

When she hears herself monologuing her thoughts as she had ran into his arms in the underpass all she can do is scream internally, she can blame the alcohol but only for lowering her inhibitions really, it hadn't manifested the thoughts.

He looks stricken and oddly amused by her musings until she tells him to get up. That smile is wiped clean off his handsome face.

"I need to test it. Come on stand up." His reluctance is noted but unable to deny her once more he stands, a long suffering look on his face.

She tells him her plan, it sounds crazy even to her but for some reason he doesn't refuse or question her at all. Agreeing to all her stipulations and she's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not an Italian stallion.

Ten seconds.

That should be enough to hold her over tonight after he leaves her alone. If she can't lay beside him she needs a tiny piece of him.

Taking a running start she dashes across the small distance, slamming into his hard chest enjoying the juxtaposition of his solid body through the soft sweater. He smells amazing, even without his clothes that expensive cologne still lingers on his skin and she nuzzles into his shoulder. Curling her arm around his body she drags him tighter against her chest, her nipples pebbling with the close contact.

It's been longer than ten seconds and she knows she should stop.

But she really really doesn't want to.

Twisting onto his other side she prepares to let go, already regretting it but her sober thoughts are now pushing to the surface and she realizes what this looks like. Peering up at his face she expects to see that unreadable face again, he's annoyingly good at hiding his true emotions it makes her second this all the time.

Her insides churn when she sees the very face she expected. So she detaches and takes a step back prepared to dismiss this whole ordeal, the words denying her feelings for him already on her tongue when the biting sound of wood scraping against the floor fills the room. Jumping a little at the noise she glances over to the direction of the sound and sees his hands holding the chair in a punishing grip. He immediately releases the object at her glance but it's too late, she's already connected the pieces.

"You're holding back." She confidently states stepping back into the space she'd only just abandoned.

She doesn't ask why, that much is all too obvious.

I didn't want you to get hurt.

Being with him will put her in danger she's seen enough mafia movies to know that friends and love ones are always the first to be taken as leverage. So he'd decided all on his own that this, couldn't be and she was better off without him.

"Stupid idiot." She tries her best to repeat those explosive words with the same emphasis he's used when he had spat her in face not too long ago, watching with satisfaction as surprise shrouds his face as the Italian glides off her tongue. She'd been practicing for a while now, mostly curses words.

Fanculo, was still a favorite. What a fun way to say fuck.

She doesn't give him a chance to question her sudden switch in languages, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer, even more so than the hug they'd just shared.

"We're supposed to share everything, even passion." She boldly declares watching with fascination as he still tries to hold on to his semblance of control, the chair squeaks loudly under his hold and she lunges forward putting them both out of their misery.

It feels like coming home.

If your home was a sauna built on an active volcano.

Unlike their hug earlier this time there's no hesitation as soon as her lips touch his liquor moist ones he's already opening up and devouring her tongue. His immediate response makes her hungry for more, peeling his lips open with her teeth she sucks the remnants of the wine from his mouth, eagerly lapping and searching for more. He grunts at the rough treatment but doesn't back off, rather he sinks those capable hands into the depths of her hair caressing her scalp as he tugs at her head, tilting her to the right and moving instantly to the left slotting them even closer together.

The sound of their kissing is messy and loud, echoing in the still of the night.

She breaks apart with sloppy pop, gasping for air and his flushed red face greets her looking every bit as wrecked as she feels.

"Already regretting it?" He teases with an edge that's a bit too real and she yanks him forward, pressing him down into the chair and crawling onto his lap, legs straddling his thighs and their cores meeting through torturous layers. She's burning hot and moist where he's aching hard and rigid.

"Regretting waiting this long." She replies in a clear challenge waiting to see what he'll do.

"We shouldn't do this, partners is enough. You're already in enough danger as is, if they find out that we're..."

He trails off unable to finish the sentence but his clenched jaw speaks volumes. She chuckles coyly from her spot in his lap.

"What? What are we doing? What do you wish we were doing Mr. Vincenzo Cassano? Fucking? " She grinds down into his groin simultaneously and instantly he grips her hips, halting her movement with a bruising hold.

"You're playing with fire." He warns her, she can hear the metallic click of his ever present lighter at his words.

She should be scared of him, he was a world apart from what she was used to even when she'd been working with Babel, manipulation and bribery those things she could do without batting an eye but murder and torture? She'd had never done anything like this before, never. Not until this Italian Korean enigma had walked into her life and shaken it up like a margarita in a mixer. Was she making the right decision? She had no idea, right and wrong had become blurred a long time ago for her. All she knew was that the idea of not kissing him for another second made her want to pull her own hair out.

"I trust you not to burn me up. Too badly."

His eyes flash dangerously at her words and this time he's the one to initiate this kiss, cupping her head gently and dragging her into a sweeter embrace, a simmering heat now licking at her skin. She moans softly as he slips a wet tongue into her mouth, stroking at her back before pushing his hands up the back of her shirt, his hands are sweltering hot on her naked skin and she arches at the rough touch. They kiss languidly breaking apart only to come back together, each kiss wetter and more mind numbing than the last. With soft suckles to her bottom lip he pulls away, she stares at his soft smile as she chases after his retreating lips. Not ready to stop yet. She won't be ready for a long time.

He glowers at her and she waits impatiently for his next move, with strong arms he lowers her onto the table dishes clanging as he shoves them to the side laying her down like she's his last meal. She expels a loud breath allowing herself to be placed on the table, gasping as he stands looming over her.

"I'm the one in the mafia so why am I terrified of you?" He whispers too honestly, looking devastated as he stares at her helplessly all too ready to bolt.

"You don't want to get hurt."

He stares at her with liquid eyes emotions all but spilled across his face, with a whimper he closes the distance between them once more with her guiding hand on his back, this time they meet in the middle surrendering to the flames.

[starshiningsirius]

Prunelle de mes yeux (Yandere Rook x Reader)

When I heard the love of my life liked poetry, 😍😳🤤.

"Oh Mon cheri,

You are the one I wish to strike by my arrow of love.

Once you were in my sight,

I became blinded by your radiance and beauty.

I want to sing my love for you to the heavens above,

So that you could hear me.

Dearest love you are the one for me,

You truly are the prunelle de mes yeux.

So, won't you please accept these gifts from me?"

As the poem came to an end her face was redder than the apple mentioned in the text. The words were sweet and heartfelt but what was unnerving was the gifts had been placed in a basket.

Quite a few of her favorite things were placed in the basket, from her favorite flowers in a bouquet, to a few of her favorite snacks. Not only that but the admirer asked to meet within the forest of Pomeifore.

So does that mean her admirer is really handsome? Only good looking people get assigned to that dorm. It's far better than having to go to Savanaclaw at least.

She's still weary about the situation at hand though, on one hand her admirer knows a bit too much about her and on the other hand it would be rude to not show up considering they did all of this. Furthermore she really was curious about who this person was. It was already a given how eloquent they were to write ths poem in cursive none the less.

A little bit of doubt sprung up in her.

"Pomeifore, how can anyone so beautiful from that dorm possibly fall for someone like me?" She voiced aloud to the slight breeze she felt.

She wonders if her admirer could see her love for the gift she was given. How unaware she was that he did see all of it a smile gracing his lips.

"Aw ma chérie, I'm flattered to hear you think I'm beautiful. Truly such an honor that is from a graceful mademoiselle as yourself. Not even the heavens above will stop me from professing my love and affection for you.'

A figure stepped from behind one of the old trees in the area surrounding Ramshackle elated to have heard her reaction to his gift. A good hunter always knew to conceal their presence from their prey.

He would have loved to hear her reaction in person, alas that isn't how he planned it though. He had to set a trap for her in order to confine her from all others.

But in due time it wouldn't be long before his prize for being so patient would arrive.

. . .

The plan was to meet as soon as it was near sunset at around dinner time as the note instructed. She wondered if her admirer had planned to eat with her in beautiful forest scenery that surrounded her. She decided to go in the end cause her conscience wouldn't let her sleep to know she didn't thank the person who went through such efforts to confess.

More and more steps she traveled deeper into the eastern forest of Pomeifore hearing few birds chirp occassionally.

'Head straight from the right side of Pomeifore castle where you'll find a forest beyond the small tower, until you come up to a flat rock. Then you'll find a sign from me there.' Simple instructions.

She saw what she believed to be the rock mentioned and stood there for a moment.

"I wonder if your already here?"

She noticed a paper sticking up from a tree settled behind the rock taped there. It was folded in half and had four words scribbled on the front.

"Prunelle de mes yeux." Was what it said.

'That same phrase.'

She opened it to find even more words scribbled inside.

"You've arrived and have yet to see me, Mon chèri.

I'm sure you're eagerly awaiting my presence, as am I with my overwhelming desire to introduce myself to your wonderfully bright e/c eyes.

But as eager as we both are all good things come to those who wait, as they say.

How about we play a little game?"

Toward the sea,

You shall go,

West from thee

Is where you'll find me.'

"West?"

She could see light trying to break through the foliage of the trees to the right of her.

"The sun sets in the west. So towards the cliffs."

As she walked past a few of the trees, she couldn't help but anticipate meeting this stranger. After crossing the threshold of forestry, she came to face with a sunset that was beautiful beyond words. She was so mesmerized that she didn't noticed the smile directed toward her.

Most definitely she didn't notice his footsteps, as silent as his true intentions.

"Enjoying the view, mon cheri?"

She jumped with a squeak in which had to pull her closer in fear of her falling.

As she looked back at her savior he found himself gazing into flustered expression, that was cute with a faint innocence and shyness that expertly glowed in Rook's green eyes.

She on the other hand noticed his hat that was about to blow off and fall into the sea. Which made her grab it before it could, slipping one of her arms out of Rook's hold. It definitely took him by surprise to see her act with care toward such an insignificant thing. His hold on her did loosen and she was able to get and face him with a reserved nature then the determination he had just saw.

"Ah, I'm such a clutz, here I wouldn't want you to lose such an important item just because you saved me."

"I'm flattered mon amour, but your far more important than some silly hat. Risking your life for something like that makes that beautiful visage shine even brighter." His bright smile definitely had her heart beating at a rabbit's pace not only that but his words weren't something you would hear from any normal student of Night Raven College.

The tone definitely matched the letters she had been sent.

"Your the person who wrote those letters."

"Dearest, prunelle de mes yeux you are indeed correct. Rook Hunt, a pleasure it is to finally meet you up close after seeing you afar." Even though she should've she didn't think too much about the last part of his statement only one phrase in particular.

"What does that mean, it is French right? You said that in your first letter, I recognize the common phrases of love but this one is more complex." As she finished her question she felt as though his happiness visibly increased.

He came a bit closer cupping her cheeks in his gloved ones, a subtle smile but with evergreen eyes that hid so much behind him.

"It means apple of my eye, I'm so glad you remembered that part." He was so close you could definitely see why his soul was chosen to be apart of Pomeifore.

Before she could take a second to admire him longer he had took her hand leading her about a few yards from where they were currently. When he moved to the side there sat a table, two chairs and plates, silverware, an appetizer and a small macaroon tower. Not to mention the small lit candle out of three in between, it was strange since the sunset provided a enough light already.

"Shall we commence our date then? How about we get to know you more personally and me the same?"

. . .

The date was enjoyable to say the least for both parties. She enjoyed his personality and theatrics while he enjoyed her company and entire being sitting across from him, listening to every word she said.

Even after the food was eaten and they stayed in each other's company. It was dark now and Rook had lit two more candles with his pen to add some extra light as he urged her to continue on with her story. The flicker flame kind of casted an eerie shadow over her companion.

Overtime she started to feel insanely sleepy. Yawning in the middle of yet another of their conversations. She apologized for the umpteenth time, as she believed it was because of her herself being tired. It was still rude of course though.

He found it cute, smirking with hidden intent as his plan was working. He was currently teaching her words in French upon asking for more terms he could teach her.

"It's okay, mon amour. You seem sleepy no? How about we get you home?"

The nickname still didn't sit in her mind in complacency causing her to blush. He had already gotten up from his place bringing along the candelabra closer to her face to extend a hand to her.

As soon as she took his hand getting up however she could her eyes automatically closing, and body shutting down. Before she could fully fall into slumber her legs were swept up into the arms of her captor who had placed the candelabra a far enough distance on the table.

Holding her in a bridal fashion Rook examined the unconscious female. As he gently caressed her lips and admired all that was before him in that moment he had her in his arms.

"Words enough aren't able to convey my love to you ma chérie for you are the prunelle de mes yeux after all, and one spell was all it took for me to be able to gain such an astonishing view of your visage." He held her delicately in his arms brushing away some of her hair on her face, gently laying her head on his chest.

"Too curious and naive for your own good, that is why I must take you away so that no one will ever taint that beauty of yours." He says with a calm smile painting his expression as he headed toward Pomeifore.

Masterlist

[cedric-stories]

Swear You’ll Never Hurt Me (Cedric x Reader)

       Warnings: Angst, talk of some verbal abuse, suggestive towards the end (but in a cute way)

           Word Count: 2,180

Reader pronouns: she/her

      Pot: Cedric had just started dating you and he noticed something weird. Every time he tries to initiate affection, you seem to not want it. One day, you come over to help him make a potion and he tries to kiss you. You backed away and when he asked what’s wrong, things are more complicated than they looked.

     So, this is a more self-healing fanfic than anything. I have some emotional issues I believe are because of things my parents had told me when I was young. I just felt like if I wrote this, it could give me come closure. My ex never quite understood my problem with affection, so I never got a loving gesture like this. I guess when you never get to have love you write a fanfic about it, lol. Okay, now into the actual story and not my sob story…

                                          Swear You’ll Never Hurt Me

         Cedric had been working on potions all day. It was one of the busiest times of year. He had recently gotten an order in from the king of about 20 different potions! While most of them were easy, there was one that needed his full attention. It required him to cast a spell on someone he was in love with. He had called his girlfriend and asked you this morning if it was okay for you to help. You happily accepted.

      It was about 2pm when he heard a knock.

“It’s me!” you shouted cheerily from behind the wood.

    Cedric got up and headed for the door when Wormwood started squawking.

Cedric signed. “Wormy, I know you can talk now, what is it?”

   Wormwood fixed his feathers and looked him strait in the eyes.

“Well, it is that woman. She’s always here.”

   Cedric’s expression turned cold. “Wormwood, if you are going to complain about her today you can kindly leave.”

The raven spread his feathers and rolled his eyes. “Gladly.”

    “Hello?” you called again.

Cedric once more turned to the door. “Coming! I’m very sorry.”

   He unlocked the door and ushered you to come in.

“Thank you so much for helping, potions like this requires a…certain person to activate.”

    You smiled shyly at the last few words, not quite understanding what he meant. “No problem, I always want to help you.

    After coming in, you put your stuff down by his table. As he began putting in items, you could smell the potion start brewing. It was a lovely smell. Something like a vanilla and mocha coffee.

    Cedric watched you place your things neatly together on top each other and he wanted to help. Walking over, he put his hand on your spine.

“Oh, god!” You barely got out between breaths.

   “I-I’m sorry, I did not mean to scare you, sweetheart.”

     You turned around to face him and flattened yourself against the wall. A look of fear and embarrassment creeped onto your face.

“I-It’s fine, I promise.”

     “Are you sure you’re okay, my dear?” Cedric asked. Things in the past like this happened between the two of you. Every time he tried to even so much as put a finger on you, you would back away or appear frightened.

“Yes, you just scared me was all.”

      After watching you for a few minutes, Cedric finally decided you were okay and headed back to the cauldron. About five minutes later, it was beginning to simmer. He bent down and smelled it with a smile.

“Alright, Y/N, I think it’s ready whenever you are.”

      Once you had gotten over to the table, you looked up at Cedric and awaited instructions. He cleared his throat and began.

           “Y/N, I will need you to stand about three feet from me, okay?”

    You nodded and started walking away from him. When you were in position, he started speaking again.

           “Now, I will need you to stand still and close your eyes. It will not hurt a bit, but it does take a minute to finish. When I am done, I will tell you.” He had his teaching voice on until he looked at your big Y/C eyes and gave a small giggle. He had almost forgotten how cute you looked. Your cheeks a light shade of pink, your nose giving a slight twitch as you smelled the potion. He just couldn’t believe he had found a person like you. You were his dream girl, his everything. The day he met you he fell in love, but he never expected you to feel the same. Now, looking at you gave him a sense of pride. You were his. You wanted to be his. The very thought of it made his heart swell.

           After taking a minute, he grabbed his wand and took a deep breath.

“Ready, Sweetheart?”

           You smiled. “Ready, Love.”

           Cedric lifted his arm to his chest and closed his eyes. He said a few words and flicked his wand. A white glow appeared on the tip of the magical instrument. The light started streaming towards you and began circling around your body. The light grew brighter and you shut your eyes tighter; trying to shut out the brightness. With a small crack, and a small jump from his girlfriend, the light stream topped into small sparkles and disappeared.

           Your boyfriend dropped his wand. “Alright, Lovely, it’s over.”

     Cedric immediately walked over to the vat of boiling liquid and placed his wand over the side. He said two words and a ray of golden sparks poured into the cauldron.

           You looked into the pot and noticed how the potion’s smell turned into pure vanilla.

“Cedric?” You asked.

           “Yes, darling?”

“What is this for?”

           Cedric brushed his hair through his bangs. “It is for the king’s friend. He is dying and the only way to save him is by giving him this. It’s a potion that is quite hard to create, if I do say so myself. It requires…” He contemplated saying it. “It requires true love to form it.”

           Your eyes stinged as they began to water. “Really?”

       “Yes, that’s why I asked you to help.” Cedric looked to his side and noticed a mug sitting on the bench next to him. “Y/N, would you mind staying for coffee?”

           “I’d love to.”

     Cedric made a pot and brought a cup back for you. The two of you sat down on the couch in the living room and began talking.

     “I-it’s been such a wonderful month, Y/N. I truly do believe I have found the one I love. Well, I know I have.” Cedric wiped a few tears from his eyes and looked into yours. Oh, how your eyes gleamed. The light coming in from the window reflected off of your skin and made you glow. He was completely fixated on your beauty.

     “Y/N,” he paused.

“Yes?”

     He hesitated a moment, “May I kiss you?”

                    You looked at him stunned. He could see the wheels turning in the back of your mind as you contemplated the idea.

                       “If it is too soon, we can always- “

           “Yes.”

                        His eyes were wide. “Yes?”

           “Yes.”

                       “Aright,” he took a breath. “Let’s give this a try, shall we?”

           You nodded.

           He started to lean towards you. His hand raised up and cupped your face and his body started to shift towards yours. He knew this was a big step for you both, so he didn’t want to mess it up. He was about to lean in when he noticed the terrified look on your face.

           “Lovely, what is wrong?” He asked again kindly, putting his fingers into your hair.

                       You just stared.

           “Y/N?”

           Tears filled your eyes, and you couldn’t help it anymore. You collapsed into your arms and started sobbing.

           “I’ll mess it up! I’ll mess it all up! Everything I have worked for with you. I’ll ruin it!”

Cedric wrapped an arm around you and rubbed your back.

“Lovely, what are you talking about?”

           You looked up at him and shifted your body away.

           “They’ve always told me I’d mess it up. I know I will mess it up. You can’t date me; you’ll never be happy!”

           “Whoever told you that?”

You locked eyes with him for a minute then broke the gaze in a flash.

      “M-my parents.” You breathed. “You see, ever since I was a little girl, they’d tell me just how wonderful I was, only to tear me down in the next sentence. They told me I’d never be enough for someone. All I’d do is treat them miserably and he’d leave. I’d end up alone with my cat. Sometimes they’d treat me like I was an uncontrollable monster. All I did was hurt people. And in the beginning, I believed they were wrong, but as I got older, I started thinking maybe it was true. Maybe, I am a monster. Now, I see it is all I am. I know this is what I’ve become. I will only destroy you. I will make your life a living hell.”

      Cedric looked at you in horror. At first, he did not believe it.

“Lovely, if you do not desire to be with me, you are under no obli- “

           “Not desire? Do you know what my desires are? My desires are for you! I want you. I want you so badly. But if I let you give me love; all it’ll do is give me fulfillment. I’ll never fulfill you. All I’ll do is tear your poor soul apart. I am a being that should be hated, not loved. I do not deserve to be happy and feel a loving touch. Who am I to think I deserve love? I’m nothing.”

           Cedric had no idea what to say. You had been deeply hurt as a child. Finally, words appeared into his mind and he began to speak.

           “No, they are wrong.” He lightly grabbed your hand, and when you tried pulling away, he followed. “No one deserves to be alone. You do not deserve to be alone. You are not a monster; you are an angel. An angel that has been ripped down by people who tried to destroy you. You are worthy of love and affection, you are worthy of being cared for, and nothing would fulfill me like knowing I have fulfilled you. I want you too. I want all of you. Not just the beautiful parts, I want everything. Every ounce of you is what I crave. I love you. Do not ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Y/N, if what is holding you back is fear that I will not be happy with you, let that go. I know for a fact you are all I need.”

You looked at Cedric with a tear-stained face and felt a warmth inside you’d never felt before. For the first times ever, you felt at home with someone.

“You mean that?” You questioned.

“With my whole heart, yes.”

“I love you, Cedric.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

           Without another word, you started leaning towards him and closed your eyes. Cedric followed suit and wrapped his arm around you. You put your hand on his leg and continued moving forward. Then, you felt soft lips touching yours. It was something so gentle, something so kind, something you had never felt before. You felt safe and secure for once in your entire life, and you loved it.

           The kiss began light, but a few seconds later, the spark turned to fire. You felt his hand firmly grip your side and your arms wrapped around his neck. You began running small fingers through his thick hair. Cedric tried sliding backwards onto the couch when you pulled away.

           “Y/N, I’m sorry if I scared you. I just thought that maybe you were somehow- “

“Are you enjoying this?” You asked him bluntly, looking him in the eyes with all your emotion while your chest pounded up and down.

           Cedric’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, of course I am enjoying this. How could I not?”

“You promise? Be honest.”

           Cedric’s upper body shifted towards yours, his face only inches from yours.

“I’m enjoying this more than you could imagine.” He said, starting to blush.

           You were so close to just letting go and giving into your needs, but you still restrained yourself.

           Cedric could sense you were still trying to control your actions.

“Y/N? Please tell me what you are thin- “

           “Oh Cedric, swear you’ll never hurt me, like, on purpose. But also swear you’ll never stay with me unless you want me. Please, I beg you to swear it to me.” You finally let out.

           Cedric immediately kissed you. “I swear.”

Suddenly, you snapped. You weren’t afraid of yourself anymore. You let your lips crash hard against his and the two of you fell backwards. You ended up laying on top of the sorcerer, his arms sliding around your waist and pulling you close. You sat up slightly and looked down at his clothes.

           Tugging at the strings to his robe you looked down at him.

“My I?” You asked.

           His face turned bright red.

“I-I-yes.” He answered, coughing out a laugh. “I’d love that.” He broke eye contact and smiled sheepishly.

           “Promise?” You asked him once more, using your hand to guide his face back to your glance.

He gave another small laugh. “Yes, I just-I didn’t think you’d-well, I guess I just- “

      You cut him off with another kiss, only this time you tried opening your mouth slightly. Cedric caught on and the two of you started up again. You traced around his chest down to his waist and pulled on the strings to his robe. Once the tie came undone, you slipped your hands up his sides and pressed down onto his body. You hungerly kissed the man once more and then looked into his eyes. His expression was somewhere between shocked, dazed, and drunk.

“You know, Cedric…I think I could get used to this.”

He gave a silly smile. “I think I could too.”

The End

           Okay, author’s note: I really, really, really wanted to keep writing this last scene, but I thought I’d save some of that stuff for the next ones. 😉 I know it seems like it was cut short (that’s because it was, lol).

[painted-piggy-ships-archive]

Abigaile Dunsmoor

Jack Sparrow x Rex Lanning

Word Count: 935

Tag List: @ghostlyvenus @heartstringsymphonies @heavenshipped @the-schizotypal-cryptid

Summary: Abigaile becomes a part of the Black Pearl crew family! Aka; look I wrote something about fankids which is like once or twice a year shshshgshg Abbie is 9, and Briar is ~15.

Warnings: Abigaile’s a bit of a young thief, so there’s a scene with a shopkeep catching her, but it’s resolved. (By Rex pulling a gun on the man and Briar using excellent misdirection skills; the necklace is fake!)

The Black Pearl had been ported at Tortuga once again for supplies; but little did the crew know they were additionally going to gain another member. Months ago, Jack and Rex had picked up a young soul named Briar, who didn’t much care what they were referred to as, they just wanted work. Thus, they joined the crew of the Black Pearl, and quickly made a family out of the heads of the ship. Even now, Briar is considered Jack and Rex’s unofficial kid.

Rex was haggling with a farmer when a small figure darted past, catching their eye.

“Stop, thief!” A man bellowed after the obvious child. Rex payed no mind for the moment; after living with pirates for a while, you begin to realize the significance of choosing your battles. However, when the man snatched at the young girl, his meaty hand engulfing her arm, Rex lept to action, producing a pistol from their belt.

“Unhand the kid,” they commanded. The shopkeep scowled down at Rex, being a hulking figure in the market.

“Why should I? The little rat’s been abscondin’ with my supplies all month, and now I finally ‘ave her!”

“She’s only a child. Barely dressed, alone, hungry. Haven’t you anything better to do than harass her for making do with what she can?”

“I don’t give a bleedin’ shit about wha’’s happened to this kid, why do you?”

“Because Rex is kind, in spite of everything,” Briar’s voice interrupted as he appeared at his parental figure’s side, “here, I’ll make you a deal. You hand over the kid, and I will give you this.”

Briar thrust forward a necklace of pearls and opals; “I assure you, it will sell quite fabulously.”

The shopkeep looked down his bulbous nose at the necklace before dropping the girl to the ground and snatching it up greedily.

“Pleasure doin’ business witcha,” he sneered and turned on his heel. Briar stooped to help the girl up onto her feet.

“You alright?” He asked. In her hand was a- now crushed- piece of bread. She nodded feverishly.

“What’s your name?” Rex asked.

“Abigaile,” she responded quickly.

“Well, Abigaile, how do you feel about sailing the seas?”

“I'd do anythin' t' get out o' here, mister.”

Rex smiled knowingly.

“Do you want to come with us? Ah, where are my manners. I’m Rex, and this is my… protege, Briar. My partner owns a mighty fine ship, we could perhaps bring you somewhere safer, if you so desire.”

The young girl nodded eagerly this time.

“Oh please! Thank ye!” She quickly embraced Rex and they patted her hair gently before taking both children back to the Black Pearl.

“Gibbs, this is Abigaile, I believe she’s going to be sailing with us, at least for a little while,” Rex spoke promptly to Jack’s second in command, who looked warily at Briar and Abigaile.

“Rex... don't ye reckon one lost sprog be enough? 'n at least Briar can work,” he looked apologetically at the young girl, “Ah, no offense, lass.”

“I can work!” Abigaile stated desperately, “I can get into small spaces, and I’m quick, too!”

“And an excellent little thief, it sounds like,” Briar added, having heard the entire conversation before stepping in.

Gibbs sighed, “Well, thar's no point in arguin' wit' ye... it'll be in Jack's hands, then.”

Rex turned to Abigaile.

“Abbie, why don’t you go make yourself at home in the captain’s quarters, there should be something you can nibble on in Jack’s desk.”

Briar guided the girl to where Rex instructed, leaving the adults to ponder when Jack would be back from getting supplies… and if anything was holding him up. Gibbs glanced at his watch.

“Give 'im an hour?”

“Yes, and then I’ll go see if he’s holed up in a pub or not.”

~~~

Luckily, Rex did not end up having to drag their boyfriend out of a pub. He returned to the Pearl safe and sound, arms overflowing with fishing nets and the like.

“Jack, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Rex captured his attention immediately. In his haste to hear their words, Jack nearly dropped a heavy crate onto another pirate’s foot.

“Watch it, Jack!” He growled, but was paid no mind.

“Aye, aye, wha' be it, love?” Jack asked anxiously, flittering to his partner’s side.

“You see, I had a run-in with a young thief. Some shopkeep was threatening her, so Briar and I stepped in… needless to say, she wants, and likely needs, a way out of here, and I was wondering if you’d allow her to sail on the Pearl for a time.”

Jack pondered Rex’s request.

“I... don't suppose thar's any reason nah t', so long as she stays out o' the way 'n such,” Jack decided, rubbing his goatee thoughtfully, “where be the young lass?”

“I told her she could help herself to any food she found in the cabin as she was obviously hungry.”

“I see.”

Rex led their boyfriend back to the cabin, only to find Abigaile fast asleep in his chair. Rex clucked their tongue and removed their coat to wrap around the young girl, smiling slightly to themself.

“It’ll only be until we find land and someone who will gladly take her and care for her…” they glanced at Jack, “unless you get attached.”

“Oh, poppycock,” Jack responded, flustered at the thought of being a father figure to two potentially bright children. Rex continued to smile as they left the cabin together before placing a kiss on Jack’s tan cheek.

“I’m sure whatever happens, it’ll be a fun experience nonetheless.”

[gyllenhaalstories]

you’re doing amazing sweetie

summary: reader is an university student trying to survive the chaos that are finals. she stresses about an oral presentation and asks her boyfriend jake to watch her practice it. he rewards her good work in a very special way. 

word count: 1434

warnings: smut! like it’s straight to the point smut. oh, and mentions of anxiety!

notes: daddy!jake owns my heart and soul and i could just not resist bringing him over for this one shot. it’s been a while since i wrote smut, so bear with me. all kinds of feedback are highly appreciated! thank you so very much for reading it and i hope you appreciate it!! 

“Honey, I’m home!” A familiar voice sung as the door slammed shut. 

“Mhm.” You did not even bother giving him a full sentence. You were pacing around the living room, your laptop on the coffee table showing your aesthetically pleasing and professional looking PowerPoint presentation. Around it, and around you, there were sheets and sheets of paper, some scrunched into a ball and others scribbled on. 

“Woah, this is madness.” Jake commented when he stepped inside of the room. “Have you not taken a break since I left?” 

If you were honest, you did not notice his departure at all. All you knew was that he was off to some premiere for a movie produced by his company. It was not surprising that you did not see time flying by since you were sleep deprived and terribly anxious about this presentation. You knew your research topic by heart and spent hours building the communication, yet, every time you read it out loud, you found all of its flaws. “I don’t have time to take a break.” 

“Y/N, we went over this. You need to stop and relax. You look so tired…” He sounded very worried at the sight of your dark eyebags and of the tornado that swept all of your papers on the floor. “I have an idea.”

You raised your eyebrow and finally looked up from your notes to give him attention. He looked so handsome in his suit, you regretted not telling him when he walked out the door earlier. “I’m all ears.” You sighed. 

He grinned. “How about you pretend I’m in your class. Read your presentation to me. I can tell you what’s good and what’s bad and after this, we can share a bath and sleep.” He sat on the couch, leaning on the arm rest. “Is that a deal?”

“Deal.” 

So, you did not miss any second and started the presentation. You set the laptop in front of him, for him to follow every slide, but he did not take his eyes off of you the entire time. 

He pursed his lips and leaned on the couch, eyeing you from head to toe. He loved it when you wore his t-shirt. And your hair was messed up, but he found it cute. The way your voice shifted from exhausted to dynamic and professional made him smile. You were giving a show. 

You could not help but notice that he clearly did not follow a word of what you said, but he sat still. His tie fell between his thighs as he was slowing licking his lips, nodding to what you said from time to time. If you were not caught up in your presentation, you would think that he was undressing you in his mind. 

Which was not wrong, at all. He let his mind wander about how hot your raspy and tired voice would sound moaning his name. He thought about messing that hair of yours even more by pulling on it as he would take you over the couch, making you forget about all the stress. Jake was definitely doing more than just undressing you.

“And that is the end of my presentation!” You concluded, with a sudden and genuine excitement in your voice. You looked down at Jake, who had been biting down his lower lip so much you could see how red it got. He ran a hand through his hair as you spoke. “What do you think?”

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie.” He smiled wide at you. “There is nothing I could change.” 

“Be honest with me.” You frowned at him. 

“I am being honest. You did not look at your cue-cards once, you were structured and precise. If I was your professor, I would give you a perfect score.” Jake explained, but his voice grew lower as he continued. “Daddy is very proud of you.” 

Daddy. When he said that word, it sent a shiver all the way down to your core. You closed your legs together at the sound of his voice. 

“It’s a good thing I am not your professor, or else I would not be able to do that...” Jake pulled on your hand and brought you closer to him. He lifted your top up and started training kisses around your tummy, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. 

“What are you doing?” You questioned him, licking softly over your lips. 

“I’m rewarding my princess for her good work.” Jake now pulled on your panties and brought them all the way down to your ankles. His hands were running over your thighs, groping them and caressing them. 

“Please, Daddy, touch me.” You begged, your hand buried in his long hair. You started to believe he let it grow because he knew how much you loved stroking it. 

“Daddy’s going to show you how proud he is.” He stood up in front of you, your bodies barely touching. He cupped your face gently and pressed a loving kiss on your lips. Soon enough, he broke the kiss and lifted you up to rest you on the couch. Instinctively, your legs opened as far as you could. 

He grinned at the view of your glistening pussy as he kneeled down between your legs, which he held open with his hands when he brought his face closer to your core. 

His hot breath tickled your sensitive skin and made you whimper when he licked your slit. He kissed your clit and started sucking on it, still holding your legs open for him when he trailed more kisses on your inner thighs. “You’re so needy, aren’t you, princess? You’re happy that Daddy loved your little presentation?”

“Daddy, please, stop teasing me!” You pouted when he started kissing further away from where you needed him most. 

He brought his bearded face back in front of your pussy and finally started eating you out properly. His hair was tickling you, but his tongue was already working you out so good. Slowly, your legs closed around his face and he allowed it, wrapping his arms around them. 

“Keep going!” You encouraged him and slid your fingers through his hair, holding his face flush against your wet folds, which he licked and sucked on while making the hottest of noises.

Jake could get off just by eating you out, and the hard bulge in his suit was proving it. He did not want to let go of your legs to touch himself, preferring to bring you closer to your orgasm instead. “You’re doing amazing sweetie.” He repeated, a devilish smirk on his wet lips. He could feel how close you were, from all the moans and whimpers you let out. 

“I’m going to come!” You told him, your free hand went to squeeze your breast over his t-shirt while your other hand gripped on his hair and pulled on it slightly. 

“Come for Daddy.” He instructed, and you did. 

You came all over his mouth as he kept flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud. 

He did not let you rest from your orgasm and, instead, he plunged a finger into your tight entrance and started fucking it inside of you. 

“Daddy, oh fu-!” You could not even finish what you were saying as you caught yourself moaning even louder. You threw your head back on the couch, your legs squeezing his head and your fingers now pinching your hard nipple. 

“Want to come again?” He asked, pulling his face away from your pussy when he added a second finger, moving it in and out of you fast. Jake looked up to you and smiled again. “You look so beautiful. Come on Daddy’s fingers, now.”

This second orgasm hit you even harder. It left you panting and laughing at how loud your moans were. Your shoulders relaxed when you started calming down, a content grin spread over your face.

Jake kissed his way up to your face, even taking the time to circle your nipples with his tongue before he pressed a kiss on your lips. He loved making you taste yourself, so he replaced his mouth by his fingers, on which you sucked happily. “Daddy is so proud of you.” 

“What for?” You questioned when he pulled his fingers away, your eyes widening with confusion. 

“You took a break to enjoy your reward.” 

You smiled. “I didn’t have my bath, though!” 

“Oh, I’m not done with you, yet.” You felt his fingers teasing your entrance again. “I didn’t tell you how much I enjoyed that little Powerpoint too. You deserve a bonus for that.”

[always-there]

About a new job

Nothing beats the feeling of rampant success like being a trainee in your 30s.

I remember watching Friends when I was a teen and thinking that even though Chandler's career change so late in life was brave, it was also deeply lame. I resented his poor life choices, I felt that in his place, if I reached that age and had built a successful career, whatever it was, I'd just stick to it and make the most of what I had.

Now that I'm a couple of years older than most of the Friends cast at the time... man. I feel ya, Mr. Bing.

I have a consistent tendency to become a workaholic in no time and overwork myself to exhaustion. And with overworking and exhausting come resentment and anger towards my employer. Instead of creating boundaries or trying to solve the issue with my company, I go on until my body and brain just can't keep up with it anymore and quit out of the blue. The company, who was happily milking me to their heart's content, freaks out. They counter-offer, schedule urgency meetings with HR to talk me out of it. Because even though I'm dead inside and constantly burnt, I'm good. I'm really good at what I do, and I'm also what I usually call a working beast. Not in a hyperbolic way, in the farm-bull-pulling-a-carriage-of-debris-across-an-uphill-field way. So I invariably end up leaving in bad terms from the company, spend a month or so trying to launch my freelance career, fail at it again because my obsessive anxiety won't let me live not knowing exactly what my detailed future is gonna be in the next month, and start again at yet another company.

And here I am now. It's 7 am. I have to wake up at 6 am in winter. This is my third day and I already want to call it quits. It's winter here, so when I opened my eyes it was so damn cold and dark. Like, pitch-black night. It's 7 am and I'm working with a desk lamp on, which gives the whole apartment a look and feel of being working overtime at the eerie hours of night that does not help my overall mood.

I know, I know. I should be thankful for the blessing of having a job in this uncertain time and age, when so many are struggling to make ends meet. I am thankful. But I am also tired and in a deep no-bullshit state of mind and soul that is not convenient to start working on a new place.

What's killing me is how disorganized they are. To begin with, I started on a Thursday. Nobody said a word to me. I'm working from home for the time being, so you can imagine the feeling of WTH when you're staring at Skype on your desk, waiting for someone to remember that they have to train you. I eventually gave up. I devoted myself to reading the endless HR messages and whatever employee manuals they sent my way and then I binged a couple of episodes of Cherry Magic! on Crunchyroll.

Then someone showed up. I suspect they are my immediate boss, but who knows. I don't even have a company organization chart. They asked me to complete about 50 e-learning tutorials for a determined software, take the tests that would trigger once I watched it all, and send them the certificates of completion as proof.

I told them that in my previous job, and the job before that one, and the one before the job before that one, I used to teach advanced courses on that software for professionals. Do you really want me to do this instead of, you know, learning something more specific to my position that would allow me to be useful to you sooner?

No, do the tutorials. It will be good to review the basics.

Fine. My fighting spirit is dead anyways. I choose my battles now. My boss (I guess they are) made clear they expected the e-learning to take my whole first day, and vanished into oblivion.

So, I didn't watch the videos. I accessed the tests through a different website that gave people the chance to take them without watching that fuckload of tutorials, completed them in 15 minutes, downloaded my perfect-score certificates and devoted the rest of my working day to inking my webcomic.

Day 2 was no better at first until at some point near my lunch hour the exhausted coworker for whose immediate benefit I was hired appeared and gave me a task to complete. I won't bore you with the details, but in short, they asked me to prepare a batch of files to be sent for revision before the final delivery to the client.

I was not taught how to do it. They sent me a link to download a previous delivery to use as a reference.

I managed to complete the task, of course I did. It's what I do best, I find my way on my own under pressure and against the clock. But I'm pissed. I'm pissed because this, you don't do *this*.

I'm fine with it because I am who I am, a 30 year old with no soul, no expectations, and a ton of experience dealing with this crap.

But what if I had been a proper newbie in the industry? A junior fresh outta college, a kid on their first or second job. Do you know what kind of stress this situation would put them under? How awful it is to be treated this way?

I was in charge of training new hires before, and I took pains to make them feel safe and welcome. I would spend fucking hours burning their brains on shared-screen calls on Skype, showing them every detail. I wrote whole ass step-by-step process manuals, so simple and detailed they were annoying, so that they would know what to do even if nobody had time for them.

This neglect of trainees pisses me off. It doesn't matter that I am able to complete the task at hand, that I am able to train myself. I shouldn't have. Nobody should.

I know I say I'm dead inside a lot, and a great deal of that is thanks to years of abusive workplaces. So even though I don't give a fuck about a ton of things, unfairness triggers me. I won't have it, I don't want anyone to suffer it.

So yeah. That.

Last Friday the only coworker that speaks to me (the others won't even say good morning back to you, there's a suspicious lack of will to live in this company) called me an hour before my shift was over and rushed me through a ton of complicated processes and technical instructions and deemed me ready to undertake the next huge project that client sent, from start to finish. They would train me sometime later, they said, and I left feeling uneasy once I had completed my first hour of overtime on my second day.

I shrugged.

This place looks as toxic as it could get, but the person I am today is overflowing with nuclear waste, so I think I'm prepared to neutralize their shit with a ton of counter-not-giving-a-shit in return.

We'll see how it goes. Unlike Chandler Bing, I have no hopes here, so I think I'm better prepared to thrive.