#but a couple of sharp's eggs

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

The Massage

When Aesop Sharp returns home to find his fiancée in bed with aching muscles from a long day of work, he's quick to offer his help. However, the situation takes a much more intimate turn, leaving both of them enjoying far more than just a little relief.

Big thanks to my dear friends @tea-withjamandbread and @dzajna for bearing with me while I wrote this beast, and providing their feedback and advice ❤️

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN

[FULL NSFW PICTURE]

The Massage (9.8k)

tw: age difference (reader is an adult and has been for quite some time now), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex, might be cheesy

Aesop Sharp sighed with relief as he pulled off his coat and blazer, depositing both on the hanger by the door before freeing his feet and calves from the heavy leather boots, replacing them with the soft slippers he wore in the house. 

He knew his beloved was home, since the messenger bag she carried to work lay upon the bench in the cloakroom, but he currently couldn't hear a sound which would hint as to where she was. Perhaps she was out in the garden, he thought, she did like to rest there for a bit when she came home. Before beginning his search for his young fiancée, Aesop headed off into the ground floor bathroom in order to wash his hands and refresh himself a little.

Once there, he cast a quick cleaning charm on his clothes, swiftly ridding them of any traces of sweat or remains of any fumes from the potions brewed during his classes today that might've lingered. He splashed cool water on his face and let it air-dry. A few droplets still cooled him where they clung to his beard as he ran his fingers through his hair. Once he deemed himself presentable enough, he exited the bathroom and made his way through the dining room into the winter garden, and then out into the garden after putting on his outside shoes once more.

It was quite a nice afternoon, the air cool and crisp. The earth smelled of rain, the last remains of winter fading away and making way for spring to come. The sky was rather grey and sunless, but Aesop's mood was not at all soured by that. No, he instead inhaled more of the earthy scent, letting his eyes glide over the sizable garden. It looked quite different than it had when he still lived here by himself. There were more flowers in the flowerbeds, a little fire pit was added for the two of them to warm up on cool evenings spent outside, and a small shed was built to house his beloved’s owl. 

Aesop made his way around the house, only to discover his wife-to-be was nowhere to be seen. He went back inside, mindful not to make a mess with his damp and slightly muddy shoes. It wasn't too cold outside, but he nevertheless shivered a bit when the warmth of the dining room enveloped him once more.

"(F/N)? Are you home, love?" He called out softly, off-handedly making the kettle float from its place on the stove to the tap, filling itself up with water before going back to its original place, so that they could share a cup of tea once he found her.

"Here," came muffled from above him. The professor smiled and unhurriedly made his way upstairs, ascending the steps with an easy step. He had to admit he felt quite appreciative of the work he and his beloved did in the house since she officially moved in with him. The house was never once uncomfortable, of course, but following the lack of fairer sex in the home, not to mention the depression that settled over him after Ashley's death, the house grew a little... empty. Most of the original furniture from when he was a child remained there, but without loving care, the paint faded and chipped, the wood surfaces lost their shine, and some articles of furniture grew desperately outdated. 

When he still lived by himself and mostly just for himself, Aesop hardly cared. The few visits he had, mainly just from his mother, Dinah and Abraham, never once commented on the state of his home, and he was quite happy about it. However, when the young woman he couldn't wait to marry came to live with him, it was like he saw just how metaphorically grey the home had become. It didn't go well with the radiance of his sweetheart, of their love, and maybe of Aesop himself these days. 

So they made the acceptable investment of one shilling for a large muggle catalogue of furniture and got to work. Aesop had smiled to himself then - maybe he'd tell Matilda of this endeavour of theirs. After all, a lot of transfiguration had been involved. Maybe she could make a similar exercise for her students - this was definitely more useful than turning a porcupine into a pincushion, at least in his opinion. Not that he'd tell her that... It took more than a week, mostly because they both had full time occupations after all, and when he and (F/N) were finally done, they were more than a little glad the next day was a Sunday, their magical cores feeling drained. However, it really felt worth it. 

The house was once more perfectly warm and cosy, just like it was when Aesop had been a small boy, and then later when he and Dinah lived together. It once more held that comforting scent he could never quite put his finger on, and he felt the wear and tear of his teaching job melt away into comfort. The colours of fabrics, be it the sofas and armchairs, rugs, or perhaps some tapestry, were vibrant and warm, the wood of the tables, bookcases, and the wardrobes in the hallway once more shone and glistened with novelty. The rooms which were empty for long years, including Aesop's own childhood bedroom, became comfortable looking guest rooms for the time being. At least so until Aesop and (F/N) fully joined their hands in holy matrimony and embraced the idea of procreation. Aesop never once stopped feeling at home in the large house, but the way things were now, he felt genuinely happy every time he stepped over the threshold.

Finally, Aesop opened the door to his and (F/N)'s bedroom - it had more Ravenclaw colours than he'd personally seek out normally, but the end result certainly made for a very comfortable space. His beloved certainly seemed to think so, given she was lying on the spacious bed on her stomach, her arms idly by her sides and her face buried into the pillow. Aesop grinned, as he looked around. He could see the woman's outer, slightly dirt-stained clothing hanging from one of the chairs in the room. 

He chuckled to himself and slowly walked to her side of the bed. Noiselessly, he kneeled on the floor, his face close to her head. Feeling his presence, his fiancée's head finally turned, and a pair of large tired eyes met his own. 

"Hello," she murmured hoarsely, but nevertheless offered her lips to him. Aesop didn't waste a single second, he chased her mouth in a long, sweet kiss, his right hand gently stroking the woman's back and waist. 

"How was your day, my sweet?" Aesop asked, though he could very much see her day had been difficult and strenuous. She merely groaned in return, and stayed silent for a few minutes, during which Aesop continued to stroke her back and shoulders gently. "Well," she spoke finally, "if you ever feel like trying to subdue a frightened unicorn stallion without using a light stupefy at first, I can tell you it's not a good idea... I took some Skele-Gro and Wiggenweld, of course, so I can proudly say my arm and my ribs are, once more, fully intact, but my muscles are still killing me..."

A small click left the professor's lips, his concern for his sweetheart's well being obvious. Nevertheless, he didn't say anything for several moments. But then: "Do you think you could lift your arms for me, my dear? I want to try and help you..." She observed him with a curious expression, but did as she was told, seemingly with great difficulty. 

Aesop's large warm hands slipped under the hem of her blouse and pulled her chemise out of her drawers. He then carefully slid the soft materials up her body, over her head, and off her arms. He took in the sight she made momentarily - her hair was spread around her head like a halo, and her soft breasts were squished against the mattress in a rather lovely fashion. However, he shook his head then - now was the time to make his sweetheart feel better. His hand once more glided over the pale expanse of her back before it retracted and the professor made way to his side of the bed. After safely placing his wand upon his bedside table, he reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a small glass jar containing dark pink ointment. 

He rolled up his shirt sleeves, and, without further ado, climbed atop the bed, and then carefully straddled his sweetheart's body, until he was partially sitting on her pert bottom. She huffed a little when she felt the extra weight on her bum, though it was not so much a huff of pain or discomfort, as it was one of confusion. "What are you up to, Ace?" she questioned, struggling to turn her head further to be able to look at him. Aesop only smiled: "Just wait. I promise it'll feel nice."

He took the cork out of the jar, and reached two fingers inside. It was one of his experimental brews, back when he was still looking for a cure for his leg. This particular ointment made muscles loosen up, and gave off a very pleasant warmth when rubbed into the skin. Which is exactly what Aesop did, once he deemed the amount of ointment on his fingers acceptable. 

It was cool upon the young woman's skin at first, and she hissed at the feeling. However, less than a minute later, she was pretty much melting under Aesop's strong and steady hands. The professor himself was very careful in his application of the ointment at first, but grew a little firmer once he felt the kinks in his fiancée's back begin to loosen up. Soon he was fully massaging her slight shoulders and back, and thirstily drank in the sweet sounds that left her lips, as well as the flush that coloured her cheeks. 

His movements caused his whole body to rock against her slowly, but he barely paid any mind to the pleasant friction of the soft flesh of her behind against his stiffening shaft. That is, until he felt the young woman purposefully roll her hips in a way that made the sensations way more pronounced. Aesop stilled in his movements, his breathing considerably heavier than it had been a few minutes ago.

"Sweetheart," he said gently, "as much as I’d like to, the last thing I want to do is hurt you more than you're already hurting..." The young woman groaned softly and further wiggled her bottom to the best of her abilities, given the fact Aesop was still partially sitting upon it. "It does not hurt that bad anymore..." she tried to protest, "besides, we can go really slow..."

Aesop couldn't hold back a small chuckle as he stared at his fiancée’s back in awe.

He lowered his upper body until his mouth was right next to her ear, his hands bracing his weight on each side of her head: "Really slow, hm?" he purred, making her shiver slightly. He rocked his hips against her a few times, slowly and passionately. 

"This slow?" he asked, his voice growing lower. (F/N) didn't answer. Aesop then raised himself somewhat, and when he was positive he wouldn't lose his balance and collapse directly onto her, his hands left their previous position and closed around her hips instead, pulling them up from the bed. His own then ground into her, hard and excruciatingly slow, making the woman hyper aware that he was rock hard now: "or even slower, like so?"

She groaned again, her hands that were previously just lying idly by her sides now gripping at the sheets in obvious need. "A-Ace, please... Please, stop teasing, I really want this. I want you... And besides, you know nothing makes sore muscles relax quite as much as some nice lovemaking..." Once again, the professor snickered, even lower than before, still grinding his clothed erection against her. "You Ravenclaws," he said softly, "finding logic in everything... Very well then. But you'll tell me the moment something hurts too much, alright?"

The young woman strained her head, and actually braced her own hands next to her in order to raise herself up slightly and look at him better. She indeed seemed much less miserable than she did when he originally walked in, and instead now looked like a woman starved. 

Oh, how could he ever resist her? Without another word, Aesop once more lowered himself, but this time to connect their mouths in a hot, passionate kiss. 

One of his hands gently wrapped around her throat, neither pushing nor squeezing, simply holding her there, enjoying the feeling of her quickened heartbeat below his fingertips as well as the knowledge of how entirely she trusted him. His hips kept rutting against her more rhythmically now, and it made him release small short hums of desire into their kiss, his tongue cheekily prodding and teasing at her own, only to dart back so that he could gently nip at her lower lip. 

Her own hand stopped pawing at the now rather ruffled sheets around her, and instead moved down to stroke his knee, which was about the only part of him she could reach without too much discomfort. Well, that just wouldn’t do, Aesop decided. But still, he gently ended the kiss, and motioned for his beloved to lower herself down again. Once she did, he covered her body with his own, his chest flush against her warm back, and his lips bestowing butterfly kisses against the nape of her neck and all the way to her ear. 

“Are you completely certain?” he asked once more, but the grin that appeared on her face revealed her mind was quite made up. “Unless you plan to literally bend me in half, or restrain me into some extra ridiculous position, it is my firm belief that I’ll be just fine,” she replied, looking at him through her eyelashes, “but even if you do, I will survive. I took a day off tomorrow - well, not accurate - Ellie made me take the day off. She said I either stay home, or I’d be cleaning undersides of Flobberworms tomorrow, because she’s not letting me get trampled over twice in two days.” 

“Hm, remind me to send her flowers,” Aesop murmured, only just resisting the urge to ask whether his fiancée ever thought about a different occupation. It was a silly thought, of course. She loved her job and was completely brilliant at it, and the last thing Aesop wanted was to limit her in any way, but any man who loved his woman half like Aesop loved (F/N) would have very much preferred knowing his beloved was safe. 

He shook his head. Though there have been, and will undoubtedly be scuffs and scratches, and bruises and pulled muscles, (F/N) was a tough woman. Not two armoured mountain trolls and countless goblins attacking at once were able to put her down when she was just a student, and he doubted one stupid horned horse could do the job now that she was a bit older and much more experienced. 

“Aesop,” she said with a small hint of impatience, but mostly a healthy dose of teasing, “should I feel offended you’ve still got enough blood in your brain to think despite me trying to do my best here to make it all go someplace entirely else?”

Aesop’s quiet laughter rang through the room. His arms pushed until they were tightly nestled under and around her waist, and his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. She too released a little giggle, with Aesop unsure whether it was because of the combined sensation of the small scratch of his beard and the tickle of his hair on her soft skin, or just him showering her with his affections like this.

When she wiggled her bum again, Aesop was reminded of his desire, and found he had not wilted in the slightest during his brief moment of thinking. Carefully, he rolled to the side, ridding her of his weight on her back. No sooner than he’d done so did he move to turn her to face him, and their lips connected in another heated kiss. Thin fingers slipped into his hair, and one of her long legs found its rightful place over his hip. The warm skin of her bare upper body pressed against his own chest, and he was hyper aware of her softness and the gentle curves of her bosom despite the offensive fabric of his own garment separating them still.

As if on cue his fiancée pulled back slightly, her nose still gently bumping into his own. “Like always,” she whispered, and Aesop hungrily drank in the hotness of her breath, “you are wearing way too many clothes, Ace.”

The professor was very nearly ready to grab his wand from the nightstand and wave it in the air to immediately rid them of the remainder of their clothes, but at the same time didn’t for the world want this ever increasing thrum of arousal and anticipation to end. 

The act of lovemaking itself was always lovely; both of them always went above and beyond to ensure their partner reached their peak in the most pleasurable way possible. However, Aesop knew they were also united in their enjoyment of foreplay, in the intimacy of once more, like so many times before, succumbing to one another’s embrace, to their most natural form, the sweetness of the other’s lips, and then finally the joy of their bodies uniting into one.

And so, quite unhurriedly, he looked deep into his beloved's eyes and pulled at his tie until it slipped from its knot and came loosely off. The single look was entirely enough to get her to understand, and she too wasn’t entirely urgent when her fingers left his hair in order to pluck his waistcoat buttons free from their holes. 

Still, their clothes soon littered the floor of their bedroom, and the two of them were left in just their drawers. A low moan was released against the young woman’s tongue as her slight hand closed around the stiff member that was tenting Aesop’s underwear, and she gave him a few gentle strokes through the thin fabric. Her mouth watered at the feel of him, the organ hot and heavy in her hand and throbbing under her attention.

However, after she pulled a few more pleasurable sighs out of him, Aesop decided that two could play that game. 

And so he let his mouth slide down slowly, kissing and biting at her neck, her pulse point and collarbones, soothing each of the harder nips with gentle licks of his tongue, his hand kneading the flesh of her pert buttocks appreciatively. And then, finally, when his lips reached her left nipple, his hand dipped in below the hem of her drawers, squeezed the soft bum, then made its way to the other side, long fingers sneaking their way towards her damp nether lips.

His beloved sighed, her head dropping to the pillow, and her hand momentarily ceasing its sweet torment of him at the sensation of the work-hardened tips of Aesop’s fingers dragging over her swelling lovebud and seam.

Quite soon however, she recovered enough to copy him. Aesop gasped lightly against the pink areola of her breast when he felt the gentle scratch of her nails drag from his belly button down through the dark hair of his happy trail, her hand soon also plunging into the tight confines of his cotton breeches to begin touching him fully.

The couple gently and unhurriedly fondled one another as much as their current position would allow them, with Aesop worrying at his fiancée’s nipples using his mouth while her free hand tugged at his hair, sending gooseflesh down his neck and back, and little electric sparks into his groin, which continued thrumming under her delicious caresses. He grinned when a particularly mean bite resulted in her hand in his hair tightening to the point of light pain, and she motioned for him to move up again. The professor did so without a word, immediately chasing her mouth in another kiss, less coordinated than the previous ones.

A smug smile spread on his face when they pulled away for breath. How he adored working her up like this - his beloved always seemed to have this detached sort of elegance about her, even after she just sent some wayward group of ruffians packing, twigs in her hair from leaping across the ground and dirt staining her cheeks. There was absolutely nothing detached about her now... Holding her gaze, he pulled his hand free from her drawers and brought it to his lips. His fingers glistened with her arousal visibly, and the professor made a show of slowly pushing each of them into his mouth to suck on them, closing his eyes and humming at her taste like she was a fine meal.

Suddenly, his teeth flashed as an idea popped to his head. The young woman gasped when she was suddenly pushed on her back and pulled lower on the bed, until Aesop was able to move to kneel behind her. His strong hands moved to once more stroke and squeeze at her soft breasts while he looked upside down on her face, his knees on each side of her head. 

“This alright?” he asked quietly, his fingertips teasing at her ribs. She needn’t ask what he had in mind exactly, knowing all too well where a position like this might go. She felt herself dampen further with anticipation. Her hands reached up, and Aesop took them in his, shuffling down a bit to be able to kiss her once more before he began his descent down her body.

This time, he only spent a short while teasing her breasts and teats with his mouth before moving lower, his tongue gliding around the pale skin of her stomach and circling her belly button. Finally he reached the hem of her drawers, and his beloved lifted her bottom off the bed a bit, so that he was able to push them down her legs. The soft fabric bunched just past her knees, and the young woman used one of her feet to take them fully off, clearing the path for Aesop and his increasingly hungrier stare.

The teacher braced himself on one hand next to her left hip, and used the free one to spread her legs further, which made his fiancée shiver at the cool air lapping at her heated skin. Bending his head down, Aesop flashed one more grin at the young woman, before he finally lowered down to bury his head between her milky thighs.

A small groan was forced out of (F/N)’s mouth when his mouth immediately found her swollen clitoris and began sucking at it fervently, his strong arms curling around her limbs to hold them perfectly in place. The very view of him from this angle was maddeningly erotic, and when she turned her head up, she found she was perfectly level with the tent in his pants. There was already a damp little spot forming where his tip was, and the young woman decided that she made him wait long enough.

The large erection bumped her nose as it sprung out from the cottony confines upon her pushing the hem down, and her mouth watered further at his heady musky scent. She turned her head further, until his dark pink glans brushed against her lips, prompting the professor to release a harsh breath against her folds. The young woman giggled even as another wave of arousal rolled through her, and proceeded to toy with the tip using her mouth, suckling on it and rolling it around, prompting more lovely reactions from the professor.

Teasing little licks soon turned into proper pleasure when Aesop began using one of his hands to gently finger his beloved, while still worrying at her lovebud deliciously. The young woman in turn opened her mouth and carefully covered her teeth with her lips before accepting his hard cock inside, slowly bobbing her head up and down and taking him further with each move. Her fingers kneaded and teased at his heavy testicles, occasionally prodding at that one spot behind them that she knew made him see stars when she pressed down on it.

The increased stimuli sent small shivers through the teacher’s strong frame, and he unknowingly began thrusting his hips, shallowly at first, but then increasing in intensity, just like his mouth and hand did on his fiancée’s need. Their groans and gasps were muffled by the other’s skin, free hands were grasping at whichever part they could reach, hips, thighs, bottoms, fingertips leaving little red spots in their wake. The flank of (F/N)’s leg bore the perfect imprint of the potions master’s palm, while the woman herself took a small break from swallowing around the thick prick in her mouth in order to deliver a sharp bite at Aesop’s inner thigh. His strangled ‘Oh, fuck’ spoken against her drenched core was music to her ears.

Aesop adored being marked by her in the throes of passion, be it a bite on his neck, a couple of bruises on his hips where her toned legs squeezed him, or the sweet sting on his back where her fingernails dug into it. 

His tongue thrusted into her opening along with his fingers, while his thumb now rhythmically rubbed nonsensical patterns against her little pink pearl. Aesop felt his release approaching rapidly under her incredibly intoxicating touch, but refused to let himself succumb to the sweet pull of no doubt brilliant orgasm before she tumbled down that ravine herself. And so, using the very few bits of self control he had left, he lifted his hips up and his member out of her brilliant mouth.

Now, the young woman tried to protest at first, her arms wrapping around his hips in an attempt to pull him back, but a small strategic bite at her folds coupled with a prod of his fingers to the little bundle of nerves deep within her made her arms lose their strength, and her back to arch against the mattress. He sped up his ministrations further, moaning quietly at the feeling of her climax approaching and at the sounds that now poured out of her mouth freely. He couldn’t see her currently, but he imagined her hands fisting the sheets below and her face twisting in pleasure.

Finally, with a cry she came undone underneath him, Aesop hungrily lapping up everything that she could give him. As she writhed with the sensations, one of her hands made its way to his hair, and she closed it around a few strands, not exactly pulling, but rather just hanging on while her orgasm shook through her. Aesop slowly rose when a little whine told him she needed a break from his continuous worship, and he wasted no time, kneeling back on the bed and pulling her somewhat into his hold until he was able to close his arms around her waist. He bent his head to kiss a trail from her neck to her jaw, and then finally to her lips. 

He couldn't help but smile at the image of her red face, the sweat running down her forehead, and the blissed out expression when he pulled back from the positively filthy kiss.

“I hope that was to your liking?” he asked cheekily, his forefinger taking to drawing little patterns over her front, connecting the various freckles and moles on her chest and stomach. (F/N) snorted unabashedly, her breathing still laboured. “As you can clearly see, I hated it,” she quipped right back, her own hand coming to lay hotly on his thigh. She turned her head a little in a clear invitation for him to kiss her again, and Aesop didn't have to be asked twice.

After a few more minutes of exchanging languid kisses, she separated their mouths and whispered: “Although I am cross with you - while you made me finish, you didn’t let me finish.” 

She looked awfully proud at the choice of her words, but Aesop merely chuckled: “And would you like me to let you finish, or shall I take you and we can make each other finish together?” An adorable pout of mock consideration appeared on her face and her eyes closed as she still rode on the gentle waves of afterglow. 

Finally, her eyes sought out his own: “I say - why not both? Like I said, I’ve got a free day tomorrow. And, if I’m not wrong, your first class is at eleven o’clock, so that gives us plenty of time to have a little rest before you can go again, after that a nice bath, a bite to eat, and plenty of sleep still.” 

Aesop shook his head slightly as another chuckle rolled through him. Still, he reached to gently caress her heated cheek, looking down at her with endless affection: “And you tell me I’m incorrigible, you little minx.” His beloved returned his smile: “Oh, you are. But I never claimed not to be incorrigible myself, did I?”

Aesop’s eyes shone with happiness and love as he watched the face he grew to adore so much, her cheeks still flushed and a few strands of her hair sticking to her forehead. The professor used his finger to push them to the side. The young woman used her hands to brace herself somewhat, and turned to steal another kiss. Truth be told, the angle was a bit awkward, but she was determined to make it work. 

Aesop suddenly groaned into their kiss, his hand closing tighter where it was squeezing her hip, and he gave a shaky breath. 

As she turned, his sweetheart once more took hold of his leaking cock, tugging at it rhythmically and driving him to his brink steadily. Knowing what she wanted, Aesop helped move her down on the bed again, his knees spreading wider where he was kneeling, and her head immediately arching back. She was smiling even as she observed him from her upside down angle, and licked her lips when his throbbing shaft appeared inches away from her face.

Aesop was breathing hard as he stroked himself a few times to take the edge off, and watched with a rapturous expression as she accepted him rubbing the glans across her swollen lips after a clear droplet of precum seeped out. 

Without further ado, he used his finger to motion for her to open up, and once she did, he pushed the hard member into her waiting mouth again. A hum from her and a groan from him cut through the silence of the room as she enveloped him in her hot, wet heat, her cheeks hollowing out when she started to suck.

Aesop was mindful at first, his hips moving slowly and shallowly, despite his sweetheart not showing any sort of discomfort with having her mouth and throat plundered by him. Still, even though she became quite… experienced in this act since they were first intimate together, he always started off carefully - not that he ever tried himself, but he imagined having something so large in one’s mouth must be a bit difficult.

However, it would appear the young woman didn’t appreciate his carefulness all that much, for she slowly pulled her mouth off of him. “I won’t break, you know. Neither will I choke or bite your family jewel off.” she said with a challenging little grin. Aesop couldn’t help but smile right back at her. “I know,” he said quietly, “but just… just let me know if it gets too much, alright? Maybe, I don’t know, slap my thigh three times.”

She only rolled her eyes at him with another grin, before positioning herself to take him in her mouth again.

This time both of the potions master’s hands found her cheeks and jaw, and carefully closed around them. With a sharp thrust, his entire length disappeared in her mouth, and a quiet curse left his own. After a few more movements of his hips, he found a rhythm, quite faster than the one before.

He used his hold of her head to keep her in place while he fucked her throat, the the young woman’s little gasps and groans making sweet vibrations go through his shaft, and were soon making him lose himself. He watched with endless fascination as the skin of her throat grew slightly more taut each time he pushed himself deep inside, as little drizzles of drool soon began to leave her lips where they were closed around the thick organ, and how she rubbed her thighs against each other in an attempt to bring herself some friction.

He spread his legs even wider, his breathing hard and laboured, and his hold on her head increasing along with the speed of his movements. 

His eyes closed momentarily as he was getting overwhelmed at the feeling, and nearing ever closer to that sweet release. The suction of her mouth, of the way her tongue lapped at him as best as it could given the position, the jolt of pleasure every time she swallowed around him, his tightening bollocks slapping against her face with every thrust, oh, Aesop knew was going to come hard.

It was quickly becoming too much. The professor’s member was now constantly weeping out in his fiancée’s throat, the coil in his stomach was becoming tighter, burning hot and bright like iron in a forge, his breathing came out in short bursts, and a litany of blissful sounds was leaving his mouth. His brain finally gave out, and he barely noticed his own hands leaving her face. Still, she stayed in her place, her own hands reaching up to grab at his hips, her fingernails digging into the flesh there as she hung on. 

One of the teacher’s hands closed around her breast, kneading it roughly, while the other carefully covered her throat. He could almost feel it where he fucked her, he imagined he could feel his cock stretching her neck, her Adam’s apple bouncing each time she swallowed around him. 

“Hnng, b-bloody hell, (F/N),” Aesop managed to grit out before another groan left his lips, and his eyes rolled back, “Bloody hell, I’m so close. I’m so close, sweetheart…”

His hips began staggering, and the teacher felt the build up of sensation spreading through his entire body. His muscles were tensing up, and his cock was throbbing desperately. The fingers on his hips dug in deeper, the sting of the fingernails doing nothing but pushing him further, further towards that edge. He rutted into her incredible mouth, his own dry and open, sounds of pleasure falling out freely. 

“Oh, Merlin, I’m coming. Oh! Mhm!” Aesop’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he bit his lower lip harshly when the coil in his lower belly snapped, and the pleasure exploded within him. His prick emptied into her throat in long spurts, and soon his body started trembling slightly under the immense gratification. He then sat back quickly and pulled himself out of her mouth, so that the last two ropes of pearly white cum landed on her dark pink lips and spit-damp chin.

Aesop fell down on his arse, nearly collapsing right into the pillows behind him, breathing hard. The young woman before him was in a fairly similar state to him. He heard her swallow a few times, her own breathing quick and laboured. The professor used the last bits of his strength to lie down on the bed next to her. His heart still beat louder and faster than a wardrum, and his hands were still shaking a little.

Turning his head, he saw his sweetheart’s eyes were closed, her face relaxed, and her lips spread into a content smile. The product of his pleasure still clung to her skin, and Aesop found the sight incredibly erotic, his just spent shaft twitching ever so slightly with residue arousal. He turned on his side to face her, and threw one arm and leg over her heated form in as much of an embrace as he was able to execute at the moment.

They spent several minutes like this, bodies slowly calming and cooling down, heartbeats returning to normal, brains regaining control of their higher functions once more. Finally, Aesop summoned a cool wet cloth using his hand, once he actually felt all of his fingers again. He propped his head up on his other hand, and gently got his fiancée’s attention by pressing a small kiss against her cheek. 

Her eyes opened, and the look she fixed him with was enough to make his heart quicken up again. 

He never quite got used to the way she looked at him after they just indulged in the pleasure of each other’s arms, no matter how they went about it. Her gaze was open and sincere, filled with trust, and with so much love and happiness. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.

Aesop never truly realised that his own expression was the perfect mirror of hers.

The teacher brought the hand holding the cloth up, and gently dabbed at the drying seed on her lip and chin, prompting her smile to widen further. “I like it when you do that,” she whispered, as if worried she could ruin the atmosphere that settled between them had she spoken any louder. “Do what?” Aesop spoke, just as quietly, a sly little grin on his face “clean up my mess?” 

There was a mischievous sparkle to her eyes. “Actually, I like it when you create it… You’re always such a perfect gentleman, but I know it drives you crazy to mark me like this. Drives me crazy too, when you lose control like that…” she admitted to him, her smile still present.

“Well,” the professor chuckled, tossing the cloth away after his young sweetheart’s face was, save for some perspiration, once again pristine, “I can hardly deny it, can I…” He chased her lips in a kiss, finally embracing her fully, carefully climbing to lie atop her again. His hand caressed her cheek, and Aesop checked her gaze for any sort of discomfort. He was relieved to find none.

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked still, “Are you sure you’ll be alright for a second round?” Her pearly white teeth flashed in the afternoon light of their bedroom, and her eyes once again took on that slightly mischievous look: “Oh, I’ll be up for round two the moment you are up for it.” 

Aesop chuckled at her words, his hands moving down to teasingly squeeze at her waist, their bodies flush against each other. He happily settled where he was, his face buried into the crook of her neck, her hands gently brushing through his hair and separating the tangles that formed there during their activity. “Mhmm…” he murmured, his voice low. He again reminded the young woman of a severely overgrown purring cat, “give me a while. Don’t forget I’m no spring chicken.” His words were met with another chuckle, and one of the hands slipped away from his hair to stroke his cheek instead.

“You know,” she said airily, an amused expression in her twinkling eyes, “for you being, by your own words, ‘no spring chicken’, you’ve got enough stamina for at least two or three spring chickens…” Aesop wasn’t able to hold back a snort at her words, and squeezed her again. Slowly, he raised himself up to be able to look at her, once more propping his head on his hand.

He might not ever get fully used to seeing that look of hers, but he got so very used to everything else. To their closeness, both physical and emotional, to their tender banter, their own little inside jokes. And to the two of them seeing the other completely utterly dishevelled like they were now, naked and sweaty with messy hair, and it feeling so natural, so familiar and comfortable. And yet he couldn’t stop being so fascinated, so absolutely taken with the sight of her every day.

He shook his head with a smile.

“You know, we Aurors have something of a… reputation in this regard,” he offered, still grinning. That prompted a curious gleam to her eyes, even though they were currently softened by tenderness. “Oh? And it applies to the former Aurors as well?” Aesop’s other hand gently slid down her body, caressing her wherever he could reach. “If they keep themselves in shape, surely. And I’d been staying in shape for a while now… However, some Aurors tend to get a little… sloppy…” The young woman sucked in a breath when his hand squeezed between their bodies, his fingers teasing at her inner thigh, “wild… Which can be pleasant, certainly… However,” he continued, his fingers getting closer to their prize, “I hear that when combined with precision… the sort of precision potioneers, for example, have…”

Her eyes fluttered when he reached her core, once more dampening under his skillful touch, “I hear it can get even better…”

And with that, his mouth latched onto hers in another searing kiss.

His hand began to move at the same pace as his mouth and tongue, slow but intense, rekindling in her the fire he already made explode once today while his own body recovered. 

Indeed, his precision and attention to detail was something the young woman appreciated deeply. He knew exactly how to touch her when he wanted her to come apart in his hands within mere minutes, thighs shaking and lungs sore from moans. Or he could slowly break her apart, piece by piece, coaxing little whimpers out of her while her fingernails broke the skin of his back. He could edge her until she begged him to let her come, and he could make those silky soft walls flutter and contract around him near continuously, the poor girl struggling to stay conscious once he was finally done with her.

As he very gently fondled her lovebud and opening, his mouth moving to her neck instead, the professor considered how he should bring his fiancée to the breaking point tonight. Finally, he decided that, seeing as he didn’t want to add to her soreness, and that they still had a few things to do before they ultimately retired to the sheets to sleep, he would go easier on her today. Not that going easier ever meant worse, of course. 

And so, Aesop carefully moved down to once again lie beside her, and then helped her turn so that her back was flush with his chest. Slowly the couple fitted against each other until they were comfortable and Aesop had access to tease his beloved some more before he could fully take her. His other arm became her makeshift pillow, and the girl wasted no time, turning her head to seek his lips. 

Several ardent kisses and hot sighs against his mouth later, as Aesop’s fingers explored her plush depths as if it were their first time again, he felt his shaft stir and slowly begin to fill up once more. The heady feeling of desire seeped into his core again, and made him too release a shaky breath against his beloved’s swollen lips. He savoured the feeling of her hand once more messing up his hair, quite addicted to the sensation. As their kiss drew to a close, Aesop instead dragged his nose against her cheeks and jaw, and her fingers disentangled from his hair, her palm going to stroke a line over his waist and hip, and even strayed to caress his buttock, a little smile appearing on (F/N)’s face.

“Stamina and precision, indeed,” she teased, opening her eyes momentarily to look at him. Aesop replied by curling his fingers within her and prodding at the bundle of nerves deep inside, making her throw her head back against his shoulder. A low chuckle left the professor’s lips, and he ground his hips against hers, his stiffening prick bumping against her bum. “When there’s a good motivation,” he purred into her ear, then started nibbling on the sensitive skin below, spreading his fingers inside her in preparation. It wasn’t as needed these days, but Aesop still preferred to take his time rather than risk accidentally hurting her.

When she once more threw her head back and moaned loudly, Aesop chuckled further, and finally pulled his fingers away and licked them clean. He then noiselessly positioned himself at her entrance, and sought out her gaze. The professor looked deep into his beloved’s eyes as he took hold of her hand, bringing it close to his face. “The best motivation there is,” he whispered.

The ring, that once belonged to his grandmother, sparkled and shone on (F/N)’s elegant hand, the physical proof that she gave him her yes. Still looking into her eyes, Aesop slowly brought her hand even closer, until he was able to press a kiss against her ring finger, right above the ring itself. His hips snapped forward, and he filled the young woman to the brim in a single deep thrust, forcing their shared gaze to separate as their eyes fluttered.

He remained unmoving for several seconds, enjoying the feeling of being once more completely sheathed within her, the warm depths enveloping him perfectly. His fiancée breathed slowly, adjusting to his length inside. Aesop's head leaned forward again, and he hid his face into the crook of her neck, her hand still clasped tightly in his. He rocked his hips shallowly several times, looking for an angle that brought the most pleasure to both of them while the young woman hummed happily, her own head coming to rest upon his arm.

They set a slow, unhurried rhythm at first, (F/N) answering Aesop's slow deep thrusts by rolling her hips in time. His mouth began administering small kisses and gentle bites to the warm skin of her neck, his own cheeks feeling hot as he made love to his beloved.

He had to put some effort into raising himself up when her arm curled around his shoulders and neck, but he managed. Their eyes connected once more, and Aesop was again absolutely in awe of her.

She truly looked ethereally beautiful like this, hair messy and face hot, eyes dilated and so sincere. And while months separated them from their wedding, from the day when they would unite officially, bind themselves to one another, as Aesop's gaze melted into her own, he once more realised something he had known for a few years now.

She was his. And he was hers.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, and how could the professor ever refuse her.

His mouth moulded against her own, sweetly, ardently. (F/N) hungrily drank from his lips, tongue lapping at their seam and seeking out his own tongue to engage it in a sensual dance, one into which Aesop readily gave in. His hips snapped suddenly, prompting a gasp from his sweetheart, one that let him take control of their kiss, and he began plundering her mouth in earnest, the rhythm of his hips increasing in speed.

After a while, neither were able to keep up with the kiss much, their breaths becoming shorter and more laboured, their heartbeats growing swifter, their mouths moving against the other’s with little coordination. Aesop shifted, letting go of her hand in order to take hold of her leg, moving it a little forward for easier access, wanting to penetrate her even deeper. His fingers then closed around her hip, and he used the leverage to deliver harder, more intense thrusts. Soon, he was rewarded for his efforts when the young woman went taut against him again, a choked gasp on her kiss-swollen lips, her breath hot on Aesop’s own.

She too moved, removing her arm from around his shoulders and twisting her upper body so that she was lying on her back a bit more and didn’t have to turn her head quite as much to be able to face him. Aesop seized the opportunity to administer another messy kiss to her mouth, while the arm below her head bent at the elbow and his hand closed around her breast again, gently squeezing the soft flesh.

“Oh, Aesop…” she whined breathlessly when he ended the kiss only to lick a long stripe starting at her neck, going over her chin, only for his tongue to shortly plunge back into her mouth in a display of pure, intoxicating decadence. 

Soon the room filled with the sounds of their fervent lovemaking, soft sighs and gasps turning into short moans, their bodies, damp from their efforts, sliding against each other sweetly and with practised ease. Aesop’s mouth began to worry at her jaw and neck, and moved even lower. His own groans of bliss were muffled by her soft skin, the vibrations seemingly travelling directly to her core and making her fall apart in his strong arms. 

After a particularly hard thrust in that one perfect angle, one that made her entire body give a shudder, the young woman felt the burning coil of an upcoming release materialise in her core out of nowhere, her head falling back onto the pillows and Aesop’s bicep. The potions master, who had been nibbling on her collarbone, planting small marks and bruises along its length, chuckled, which prompted another wave of pleasurable vibrations to run through her, setting her nerve endings ablaze and pushing her further toward that edge.

He could feel her peak approaching, her breathing becoming uneven, her thighs beginning to tremble as he continued moving at the same angle as before. He wasn’t far behind by any means, but felt confident that he’d be able to hold off until he brought her her pleasure. That is, until she cried out for him and squeezed him within her in a vice grip following a particularly hard bite to her neck and a pinch of his fingers to her teat: “Ace! Aesop, p-please, don’t s-stop!” Her walls were quivering around his leaking prick, her hands grabbing for whichever part of him they could reach. Her sounds were pushing to his own climax much faster than he’d anticipated. He rose a bit, a sense of urgency in his voice as he whispered hotly into her ear.

“I-I’m almost there, sweetheart… Come on, c-come for me, love. ”

“Aesop-!”

Her back arched and her toes curled as the coil within her snapped, as if a bolt of lighting suddenly struck her. Aesop groaned at the feeling of her walls closing so, so bloody tight around him. Her body was quivering under the pleasure he brought her, her chest rose and fell hurriedly as she sucked in mouthfuls of air, and she was so amazingly overwhelmed by the sensations.

He let her ride out her orgasm, his rhythm becoming slow and deep, rutting against that bundle of nerves deep inside her as she still convulsed and contracted around him, her head thrown back. Only when her bliss began to ever so slightly subside did he wrap his arms around her waist, holding her firmly in place, and sped up his movements once more. He truly was not far behind her, he could feel his bollocks drawing up, and the pressure in his lower belly increasing with every move. His mouth was inches away from her ear, so she heard every single sound that fell from his lips as he pounded away into her, the muscles in his legs straining and his cock becoming nearly painfully hard as he chased his own climax.

“Mhmm, f-fuck-” he groaned 

He was certain he was squeezing her too tight now, but she didn’t show a single sign of discomfort, her head still lolling on the mattress, sweet little whines pouring out of her mouth, her velvety depths still pulsating around him, beckoning him to join her in her pleasure. 

Oh, he would.

He tried to hold it, at least for a few seconds, edging himself, but then one, two, three hard thrusts, and he pretty much exploded. 

Aesop moaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull, and his arms squeezing the poor girl even tighter, as his cock spilled inside her in several bursts, his hotness flooding her plush depths completely. His hips kept rocking into hers, as if on their own accord while the professor lost himself in the gratification, his body and head suddenly feeling so heavy, so comfortably tired. 

Finally his movements drew to a close, his head dropped and he remained where he was, breathing hard, completely high on the endorphins flooding his brain.

A long, content sigh was released somewhere next to his head, and a soft hand caressed his cheek. His head was resting partly on her chest, partly on her neck, his arms were still enveloping her tightly, his softening shaft was still nestled inside her. Aesop would’ve gladly stayed just like this, but as his head cleared of the hot, heady fog of lovemaking, he realised that this position wasn’t probably doing anything for her back, and he rolled off next to her.

To his great pleasure, (F/N) immediately turned around and snuggled into him, seeking his warmth and his love.

As they lay together, satisfied and spent, the two lovers took a moment to just close their eyes and rest. 

“Are you alright, my sweet?” Aesop asked, still breathless, only able to open eye for the time being, “I haven’t hurt you any more?” Instead of an answer, what he got was an even fuller armful of his fiancée, one of her hands coming to run through the hair on his chest, damp with sweat. Finally, she spoke: “You worry entirely too much, Ace.”

While a shared bath was still on the schedule before they’d go to sleep, a wandless Scourging charm was used for the time being, just to remove the discomfort of sweat and other bodily fluids drying up on their skin. 

The potions master took comfort in the familiar soft scent of her hair, and his arms, while slightly weakened by the sweet afterglow, still had strength enough to hold his fiancée exactly where she was: Exactly where she belonged. Not that she minded, of course, there was no place on earth as safe and comforting as right there with this man.

However, (F/N) had to admit the difficult and strenuous day followed by the couples’ only slightly less strenuous but just as intense activities left her feeling rather ravenous. So much so that even the picture of something as bland as oat porridge left her nearly salivating.

So, she took a deep breath and gathered all of her strength, and made an honest attempt to wiggle out of the professor’s strong hold. And, of course, he did not budge one bit. Another attempt - fruitless again. Aesop murmured unhappily, obviously less than thrilled about the very prospect of releasing her.

“Not ready to let you go yet,” he confirmed her suspicions. The young woman simply rolled her eyes good-naturedly, her own hands coming to caress at whichever part they could reach. “Come now, Ace,” she reasoned, “neither of us ate. I haven’t since lunch - something I’m quite happy about, since otherwise I surely would've lost whatever I ate in a most unpleasant way - and I doubt you had anything other than tea and biscuits since your own lunch.”

Aesop grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, making his young fiancée chuckle: “What was that, dear?” The professor only wrapped his arms around her tighter: “I said I wasn't hungry.”

As if right on cue, Aesop's stomach gave a very telling and loud growl.

“Liar,” (F/N) said only, a victorious smile playing on her face. Aesop finally loosened up his arms a little, but his hands remained on her hips. He raised his dishevelled head, a lazy grin playing on his lips, one that made his sweetheart want to kiss it right off. 

“You know, we could just summon something and make a meal out of it here,” he made his last attempt, brow raised.

With a huff, (F/N) finally managed to leave his arms, right away missing his warmth but ready to stand her ground. She stood up next to the bed and placed her hands on her hips: “Aesop Theodore Sharp, it's one thing to indulge in a meal in bed every once in a while, but prepare it there too? That's how you get ants, you know.”

Aesop seemed quite unbothered by her voice, seemingly enjoying eyeing up her bare curves too much.

“Now, where are my knickers,” she asked, looking around the room, mostly scanning the floor. The professor meanwhile stretched his tall body upon the bed further, again rather similarly to a content tomcat. “I think I'm lying atop them, actually,” he admitted lazily, making absolutely no attempt to actually roll over a bit and hand her the garment. The young woman couldn't help but shake her head, both exasperated and loving every second of it.

“Well, may I have them back? In return for a light supper?” She tried, but even as she was speaking her question, she knew what the answer was going to be. Still, Aesop made a small effort and had the decency to appear thoughtful for a moment.

“No deal,” he said finally, “However, I will run us the bath in the meantime, and make breakfast to bed for you tomorrow. In a similar state of undress, if you so wish. How's that?”

With a final chuckle and a roll to her eyes, (F/N) turned around and bent over, at the very least picking up Aesop's shirt to cover up while she made their food, ignoring his little wolf whistle. She closed the two bottom buttons of the shirt, still leaving her cleavage quite visible to his hungry gaze. 

“Spoilsport,” he said with a mock-pout, and this time she wasn't able to hold herself back from putting one of her knees on the bed and kissing that silly expression off his face. To Aesop's great displeasure, she soon pulled back and fixed him with a triumphant expression.

“I'll hold you to that bath and breakfast,” she said as she turned away and began walking out of their bedroom.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the story! You can also check this work and all of my other works over on my AO3. Feedback greatly appreaciated ❤️

[bunjywunjy]

bunjy recipe book- Crustless Quiche of Eternal Dinners

this is a reliable, quick, and infinitely modifiable recipe that uses an entire three eggs plus whatever you have in the fridge to give you and several friends an excellent dinner time! crust is the most labor intensive and also the most boring part of the quiche, so getting rid of it really opens up entire worlds of possibilities for what is basically a very easy modifiable egg pie.

you will need:

a glass or porcelain 9-in pie dish, well greased

3 eggs

1/3 cup milk

1/3 cup heavy cream

salt and pepper to taste

this will give you a basic custard to enclose your fillings! and the fillings are up to you- good basic combinations to add are cheese/vegetables (like leek/gruyere), cheese/starch (like sharp cheddar/potatoes), cheese/vegetable/starch (like smoked cheddar/sweet onions/potatoes), cheese/vegetable/meat (like mozzarella/rehydrated sun-dried tomatoes/italian sausage), and cheese/meat (like cream cheese and lox).

you will need to fully cook your ingredients before you add them to the quiche if they are raw- saute your veggies and meats (DON'T FORGET TO ADD SALT), shred your cheese, and microwave your potatoes before chopping them into chunks. make sure that you remove any liquid or excess oil from your ingredients before you add them, as they can cause bubbles of weird hot liquid or a lot of oil buildup under your quiche. just put them on a paper towel for a little bit before you add them to the dish.

you can also add some spices to your custard when you mix it to complement your ingredients! there should always be salt and black or white pepper in there, but think about what other spices you have lying around that might go with what you're using. if you're doing mozzarella/sun-dried tomatoes/Italian sausage, add a couple shakes of italian seasoning blend, or basil/oregano/terragon! if you're doing cream cheese/lox, throw some dill in there! using a smoked cheese? add smoked paprika! you can add anything from dry spices to a couple shakes of hot sauce, mustard, or even worcestershire sauce if you think it'll work. sky is the limit.

once your ingredients are dry and your custard is assembled, you're ready to build your quiche! take your empty pie pan and grease it up real well with olive oil or butter, and layer in your starch and/or meat if you're using either of those. add your veggies in a thin layer on top of this, and then cover the whole thing in a layer of shredded cheese if you're using it! (cream cheese, ricotta, and cottage cheese should be swirled into the custard instead) lastly, pour in your custard and tease the vegetables and cheese around with a fork until everything is mostly submerged.

bake in a 350° preheated oven for 30 minutes and allow to cool before slicing.

keeps well in the fridge for over a week, some assemblages are good hot or cold! enjoy your infinite dinners.

[thef1diary]

A White Christmas | D. Ricciardo

Merry Smutmas: BONUS FIC

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral, husband!dad!daniel

— Happy Holidays & Merry Christmas from your favourite daniel sluts! (aka me n @emchante)🎄🎁 while this may not have been the perfect smutmas, we both thoroughly enjoyed writing each fic and we hope you enjoyed reading them just as much. Here’s the bonus fic, as promised. Be warned, there’s a lotta holiday filth ahead 👀

It was Christmas Morning, and the soft hush of snow blanketed the world outside the frosted windows. The flakes drifted lazily from the sky, a picturesque white Christmas that seemed almost too perfect to be real. Inside, the warmth of laughter and joy filled the air as you and Daniel watched your three kids eagerly tear into their presents. Their delighted squeals and wide-eyed wonder made the early wake-up call more than worth it. Wrapping paper flew across the living room, the scent of cinnamon rolls wafted from the kitchen, and the fire crackled softly in the background.

Breakfast followed shortly after—simple but perfect, with pancakes, eggs, and hot chocolate for everyone. The kids chattered excitedly about their new toys, their little faces—a close replica of Daniel’s—glowing with the magic of the day. Once the plates were cleared, you dressed them in their holiday sweaters, ready to head off to their grandma’s house where you and Daniel would join them later in the afternoon.

The house was quiet now, blissfully so, as you stood by the doorframe, waving goodbye to the kids as they piled into the car with their aunt. Once they drove away, Daniel closed the door, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he pressed a lingering kiss to your neck.

“Finally,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. “We’ve got the house to ourselves for a couple hours.”

You turned in his arms, raising a brow at the sly grin tugging at his lips. “And what exactly do you plan on doing with this time, Mr. Ricciardo?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead he walked over to the Christmas tree and picked up the last neatly wrapped present sitting underneath. His grin grew wider as he handed it to you. “Open it and find out.”

You quickly unwrapped the present, your curiosity piqued, only to find the sheerest, most delicate lace lingerie you’d ever seen nestled inside. The deep red fabric was soft under your fingertips, accented with intricate embroidery and ribbons that left little to the imagination. Your cheeks flushed, but Daniel’s smirk only deepened.

“And here I thought we were trying to be nice for Christmas,” you teased, holding the garments up for a better look.

“What can I say?” he replied, stepping closer until his hands were on your hips. “I wanted a very, very naughty gift this Christmas.” His lips brushed yours, his voice a whisper. “And I plan on unwrapping it right now.”

It didn’t take you long to change. When you stepped into the bedroom wearing the lingerie, Daniel’s eyes darkened instantly, his gaze raking over every inch of you.

“Turn around,” he commanded softly, his voice low and rough.

You did as he asked, feeling his gaze burn into your back as you gave him a full view. His sharp intake of breath sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could say anything, his hands were on your hips, pulling you back against his chest.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands roamed over your body. “Look at you, love. All wrapped up for me.”

You let out a soft laugh, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “You like it, then?”

“Like it?” His hand slid between your thighs, finding the growing heat there through the thin fabric. “I’m obsessed.”

He didn’t wait for a response before nudging you gently towards the bed. You let yourself fall onto the soft mattress, his hands quickly finding your thighs to spread them apart. Daniel knelt between your legs, his hands gripping them firmly as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. His mouth trailed higher, and when he reached the thin lace of your panties, he paused to look up at you.

“Look at you, adding some sweetness to my gift,” he murmured, his voice filled with dark amusement.

You didn’t have a chance to reply before his mouth covered you, his tongue pressing against your cunt through the lace. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as he teased you, his tongue working you over with slow, deliberate strokes and kisses.

Daniel’s lips teased you through the lace, his tongue hot and wet as it moved against the thin fabric, dampening it further with each slow stroke. The friction of the lace against your sensitive skin was intoxicating, a mix of pleasure and torment that had you gasping, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Daniel,” you whimpered, your hips shifting, desperate for more, for him to pull the fabric aside and give you what you needed.

But he only chuckled against you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “Patience, my love. I like seeing you like this—needy and desperate for me.”

He slid a hand up your thigh, his touch firm and possessive, before his fingers slipped beneath the lace. He didn’t move it away. Instead, he pressed against your slick folds, the fabric catching every motion as his fingers teased and circled your clit.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re soaking through it.”

You could only moan in response, your body trembling as he continued to torment you with slow, deliberate strokes of his fingers. His mouth joined again, his tongue pressing firmly against your lace-covered pussy, and the combined sensations had you spiraling out of control.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his voice low and rough against your skin. “Dirty this pretty lace for me.”

It didn’t take much more. His fingers pressed just right, his tongue relentless as it worked you through the fabric, and the pressure built until it exploded, your body clenching and shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your thighs trembling as your cum coated the lace, leaving it soaked and clinging to your sensitive cunt.

Daniel groaned in approval, pulling back to admire his handiwork. “Fuck, look at this,” he muttered, his fingers tracing the damp lace. “You’ve completely ruined it. Just how I wanted.”

Before you could catch your breath, he was moving, flipping you onto your stomach with ease. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto your knees, your ass high in the air as he positioned you exactly how he wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with reverence and hunger. He slid his hands down your back, over the curve of your ass, before grabbing the lace and pulling it to the side, finally uncovering your cunt.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his hands spreading you wider. “Absolutely perfect.”

You felt him against you a moment later, the thick head of his cock teasing your hole as he slid it through your wetness, gathering everything you’d already given him.

“Daniel, please,” you begged, your voice breathless and broken.

“Please what?” he taunted, his voice dark and teasing as he paused at your entrance.

“Please fuck me,” you cried, pushing your hips back against him.

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely. You both groaned at the feeling, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice rough with need.

Then he began to move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, each thrust deep and deliberate. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your cries and his guttural moans.

“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, his hands digging into your hips. “Such a good girl for me. So tight, so wet.”

You couldn’t form a response, your mind foggy with pleasure as he set a punishing pace, his cock hitting deep with every thrust. Your arms gave out beneath you, your face pressed into the mattress as he continued to take you, his grip never faltering.

“Gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice strained as he leaned over you, his lips brushing your ear. “Feel you squeezing me already. Do it—cum all over my cock.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as another orgasm tore through you. He didn’t slow down, fucking you through it, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release.

With a low groan, he pulled out at the last second, his hand stroking himself as he finished over your ass. The heat of his cum splashed across your skin, thick and hot, marking you in the most intimate way.

Daniel’s breath was ragged behind you as he steadied himself, his release warm and sticky on your skin. His hands slid down your hips, almost soothing, before he traced a finger through the mess he’d made.

“You look even better like this,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. “Covered in my cum.”

You shivered at his tone, feeling his finger gather some of the wetness on your skin before he pressed it to your lips. “Open,” he commanded, his eyes locked on yours as you turned your head slightly to look at him.

Your lips parted, and he slid his finger into your mouth, watching intently as you closed your lips around him and sucked. His groan was deep and guttural, his other hand coming to stroke your hair. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek.

When he pulled his finger free, you turned fully, taking in the sight of him. His chest heaved with every breath, his body glistening with sweat, and yet his cock was still hard, standing proud and ready. The sight of him—so undone and yet still wanting—ignited something primal in you.

Without a word, you slid off the bed, sinking to your knees in front of him. His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in surprise, but the smirk that followed told you he knew exactly what you intended.

“Look at you,” he said softly, his voice dripping with lust. “So fucking eager.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, your hands wrapped around his thighs, your touch firm as you brought your face closer. Your tongue darted out, licking along the underside of his cock, tasting him. He hissed, his hips jerking slightly as you teased him, your tongue swirling around the head before you took him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as his hands found your hair. “That mouth of yours… feels so damn good.”

You worked him with practiced ease, your lips sliding down his length as your tongue pressed against him. Your hand joined the motion, stroking the base while your mouth focused on the tip, hollowing your cheeks with each movement.

Daniel’s grip in your hair tightened as his breathing grew heavier. “You’re gonna make me lose it, love,” he said, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect, on your knees like this.”

You hummed in response, the vibration sending a shudder through him. His hips bucked slightly, and you took him deeper, letting him hit the back of your throat. The sound he made was sinful, his control fraying with each passing second.

“Shit,” he groaned, pulling back just enough to take a breath. “I need to see you.”

He withdrew from your mouth, and you looked up at him, your lips swollen and glistening. His eyes darkened at the sight, and you continued stroking him with your hand.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock, gaze connected with his as you whispered, “cum all over me, Danny.”

You tilted your head back slightly, your tongue flicking out to catch the first drop of his release as he came. His moan was deep and raw as he spilled over your face, the warmth splashing across your cheeks and down to your chest. He aimed deliberately, painting your lace-covered breasts with streaks of white, each one a claim on your body.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breathing uneven as he admired his work. “You’re a goddamn masterpiece.”

Your hands came up to your chest, your fingers trailing through the mess he’d made. You looked up at him, your gaze heated. “All yours,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry.

He knelt down, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you deeply, the taste of him still on your tongue. “Always mine,” he murmured against your lips.

Painted in Daniel’s cum, it was truly a white Christmas, one you’d never forget.

taglist: @lilorose25 @thenotoriouserg @a-distantdreamer @leclercsluvs @fat-meh @wintxr-widow @amirahart @alishamai @rendezvoushn

[sunberies]

“Honey, is he still there?” the purple troll asked her partner as she tried to tuck her egg deeper into her hair. Her partner turned slightly to take a glance at the edge of the clearing, quickly turning back and responding with a sharp “He is.”

As they both stare at each other, the gray troll hidden behind the shrubbery at the clearing edge continues to manically write into his small notepad. His eyes moving back and forth from the couple and his notes.

ok so um, Branch doesn't know how to ask for help with egg care without looking weird or giving away the fact that he has an egg. So, he comes up with the brilliant idea of just 'studying' random trolls in the village. It gets noticed very quickly and Poppy has to go and tell him to stop being a little weirdo and just ask for help.

[shaybae1114]

FULL STORY WILL POST IN PARTS TOMORROW

Thank you @specsthesecond for letting me use your plot idea!

🐊 Crocodile hybrid Sherrif who becomes quite fond of the new outlaw in his town. Every time you outsmart him and get away it just makes his dick harder and his heart beat faster. When he finally catches you, after one hell of a chase, he doesn't drag you to the jailhouse but instead to his home. He's rambling on about how someone so cunning and resourceful would be the perfect mate and how he'll breed you full of his eggs to prove it to you.

Sheriff crocodile x outlaw reader (mild violence) (brief mention of loss) (eggs)

You pulled your hair underneath your black hat looking at the rail cart across from you. In and out. Well that was the plan aslong as the sheriff didn't show up. You had moved into town a couple months ago starting with petty theft to test the waters. Taking a pocket watch here, a womens pendant there. Snatching coin pouches with ease. You had noticed the sheriff of course taking note of all law enforcement in any town you went into. You had dealt with hybrids they where still people just normally faster and with heavy animal features. A crocodile was new to you though. Sheriff Dryeden was a sight. For being what you assumed a cold blooded reptile.

He stood at 12"6' his tail dragged behind him as he walked at 1.8 meters long.  He's a greenish-drab color with black stripes and spots on his body and tail. His underbelly was a almost white color from what you could tell from under his uniform. You found him incredibly attractive with his stupid shiny sheriff badge on his chest, his stupid sheriff hat, and his stupid yellow eyes that almost pierced your soul with ever glance.

The first time he noticed you was when you had stolen a bottle of liquor from the saloon owner. He had been meeting up with the mayor and didn't hesitate to take off after you. Luckily you where incredibly smart and fast on your feet  managing to escape him, you went down an alley way and onto the back of your horse. Dryeden was in shock he'd been a fighter since he was a boy no one had escaped him. As he watched you flee on the back of your horse he felt his heart race for the first time in along time.

He continued trying to catch you. Yet you where always one step ahead managing to avoid getting caught by him. The time you robbed the bank he nearly caught you in the vault but you slid into the crowd unnoticed. When you robbed the mayor's home and escaped on the back of a farmers cart hiding amongst his vegetables.

The more dryeden chased you the more he felt the desire to keep you for himself grow.

  Unfourtantly for you that damn crocodile was fast and smart he was always making it harder for you to get away. It started to seem like he knew what you wanted before you even did. If this town didn't have money, You would have already left town to avoid capture.

But you weren't one to let opportunities slip from your fingers , and that freshly mined gold was calling your name. The last job always being the biggest for you. It should be simple you didn't need the whole cart just a couple nuggets. Using the cover of the night you quietly slid up to the rail cart smiling brightly at the gold. Grabbing a couple nuggets sliding them into your bag you noticed the night had gone quiet.

"Why howdy Sheriff Dryeden." You said smiling turning to face the hybrid.

"I'm not letting you get away this time." He growled his eyes glowing under the lights from the mine shaft.

"What a hoot sheriff we both know you aren't going to catch me. I'm to clever for you." You purred placing your palms flat on the rail cart. As Dryden went to step foward you hoped over the rail cart taking off into the mine shaft.

Dryden pushed the rail cart over with a loud crash taking off after you with a roar. You could hear the pounding of his feet behind you. You cursed feeling the rush of air as his claws barely missed your arm. Taking a sharp turn you nearly avoided running into a empty cart.

Sliding quickly you stumbled as your feet struggled to catch traction. You panicked he was catching up fast. Finally pulling yourself together you barely managed to avoid getting slammed into by the sheriff. As he slammed into the wall the sound from the force rattled the walls. If you didn't get out he might make the mine collapse on you both.

He roared as you picked up speed. You had to find away back to the entrance it was the only way out you knew. Running as fast as you could you noticed that you where coming up on one of the stabilizer beams. You could tell that the sheriff was right behind you.

Quickly as you started to pass the pole you threw your hand out using your speed and momentum to turn you around putting you back in the direction you had come from. The sheriff snarled as he slid on the lose dirt trying to stop himself. He used his tail to try and stabilzize himself during the fall. As his chest sid onto the dirt he reached out with his hand wrapping it tight around your ankle. Yanking you down with him.

Letting out a startled cry that was cut short as your chest slammed into the ground. You kicked your leg back aiming for his face. He quickly caught your leg moving his face aside. Dryden could feel himself pressing against his cloaca what a sight you where! He finally had his claws on you after so many chases. He could hear his heart beating the fastest it every has.

Your ankles where in either hand spread out before him as you struggled to escape his grasp. His eyes focused in on your ass watching it move as you tried to pull your legs free clawing at the dirt in a desperate attempt to break free. He moved himself into a kneeling postion flipping you onto your back. He couldn't help but chuckle at the glare on your face.

"You're under arrest. I've caught you little outlaw so it's best you stop struggling. I'd hate to have to hurt your pretty face." He stated moving one clawed hand to grab your wrist placing the shackles from his belt securely onto you. He slid back down rubbing his snout against your cunt moaning softly at your scent. You glared at his actions pulling on your leg trying to get it free once more.

He pulled you over his shoulder as he stood to his feet. You winced in pain as some of his scutes dug into your stomach.

"Come on sheriff just let me go and I'll leave your town." You pleaded knowing the towns people would have you hanged for your crimes. But the sheriff ignored your pleas exiting the mine.

"I'm not taking you to the jailhouse." He stated you blinked confused.

"Where are you taking me then?" Was he just going to kill you himself. Crocodile hybrid didn't eat humans right?

"To my home. Where I'm going to make you my mate." Dryden was blunt not even trying to hide his intentions.

"What? Why me? I'm an outlaw and your the law!" You cried out. Dryden had noticed that you hadn't said anything about being against him being your mate. Making his crocidle face break into a wide smile.

"Your cunning and resourceful you will be the perfect mate and I'm going breed you full of my eggs to prove it to you." He almost dropped you as the scent of your arousal filled his scense of smell at his words. "See my little outlaw your already readying yourself to take my eggs."

"No way your crazy!" You shouted trying to deny that the thoughts of being breed by the crocodile hybrid hadn't already been flooding your mind since the first day he'd chased you out of the saloon. He continued to ignore your cries and struggles as he made his way to his home. After a decent walk you had finally arrived. Dryden entered his home taking you straight to the nest.

You bounced as he dropped you finally allowing you to see something other then his back. You took in the room it was bright shades of green giving a swampy look.

"You miss home often sheriff."  You said softly. Dragging your hand along the nest he'd dropped you on. The nest was incredibly soft. It was mound-like made from vegetation's mostly tall grasses.

"Yes very often but the nest was made for you." You looked at him with a glare at his statement.

"I'm not gonna keep telling you sheriff you're crazy if you think I'm staying here." He titled his head at you giving you that wide crocodile grin.

"Please little outlaw try to run again I do love chasing you." You scowled at him, he was diffently getting on your nerves.

  "So what are you going to do to me?" You asked your curiosity getting the best of you.

"I'm going to make you my mate. Watch you carry my eggs and keep you full of them so you can never leave myside. You're so wise and capable you're exactly who I've been looking for." He stated with a shrug slipping out of his shirt.

He turned his back as he undid his belt going to slip out of his jeans. You looked at the room entrance and didn't hesitate jumping out of the nest. Dryden groaned in delight he'd been hoping you'd be foolish enough to give him another chase before he breed you. After all once you carried his eggs he couldn't allow you to run.

Quickly turning around he took off after you, chuckling when he noticed you going away from the exit. He smiled deciding he wanted to see how strong of a swimmer you where. He appeared in front of you making you slip and curse. You turned around seeing a door you flung it open and as you stepped inside you fell into what appeared to be a small pond.

"Your nesting room is new. This is my pond though. I miss the water most." He said standing in the doorway watching you calmly.

"I built it myself." He added clearly proud of the pond. If it wasn't for the fact you had just fallen in, you'd notice how beautiful it was.

You were swimming with ease. You learned how to swim in a creek bed when you where 6. Your life had always been hard so alittle water couldn't stop you.

"Well thank you for the fast introduction." You snapped sarcastically. He laughed his reptile eyes almost seeming to have more of a purple color.

"I wanted to see if you could swim. The last thing I'd want is for our offsprings to drown you." He was still giving you that wide smile. You found yourself smiling as well.

"Well you succeeded. I can swim but we won't be having offsprings. The towns people will kill me for my crimes." You where cornered and need to convince Dryeden to let you leave.

"We don't have to worry about that I made it very clear to the mayor that once we are mated you will return everything you took. I also already paid for the  liquor you stole." As he spoke he slid into the water. "It's to dangerous for me to take you in the water so let's go back to your nest and dry off." He was slowly swimming towards you. You knew very well how fast he was on land in this pond. His pond you didn't stand a chance.

But still you'd be dammed if you just gave in to him. You were patiently waiting for Dryeden to swim closer to you. Just as he reached out to pull you into his chest. You divided underneath him making a break for the doorway.

Dryeden groaned feeling his cock pushing on his cloaca begging to be released to breed his mate. Taking off after you he quickly caught up wrapping his arms around your small frame. He easily carried you out of the water pressed tightly to his chest.

"My sweet mate no more chasing." He growled. You currently where clinging to him as he walked.

"I'm not returning my stuff!" You shouted starting to struggle again. He snarled at your words bringing his hand down rough on your ass. You squeaked at the sudden strike going rigid. "Did you just spank me?" You hissed out.

"I did my little outlaw and I plan on making your cute ass red until you agree to return the items you took." He slid into your nesting room and set you down on your feet keeping one clawed hand tight on your arm. "I'm going to let go don't run I'm done chasing you I will take you wherever I catch you next. So if you don't want you clothes ripped to shreds remove them now." You glared at his words and began to undress not wanting to ruin your clothes for when you try to run again.

He gave that crocidle smile that you where starting to fall in love with noticing that the purple in his eyes showed everytime he smiled at you.

"You are absolutely a site to behold my darling Lantana." He moaned out taking in the site of your naked body. He stepped foward dragging his hands along your soft flesh. He groaned as he closed his hand around one of your breast. Using his clawed fingers to roll and pinch at your nipples loving the site of them hardening thanks to him. He drew back his hand landing another solid hit to your ass. This one made you yelp jumping alittle closer him.

He used the opportunity to pull you against his chest. Your hardened nipples rubbing against his scales. You let out a soft moan at the feeling. He slid down to a almost bowing postion resting the underside of his head on the top of yours.

"I'll take care of you. We could protect the town together. You'll never want or need anything again. I'll keep you safe, full, and loved. Please my Lantana say yes. Say you chose me to." He begged running his hand thru your hair and down your back. Applying just enough pressure to have you trembling but not enough to do any harm by his claws.

  Gentle you placed your arms around his side placing a soft kiss to his scaled chest.

"Yes Dryeden I want to be your mate." You whispered against him as you trailed kisses along anywhere you could reach.

"You speak the truth little outlaw?" He whinned his grip tightening.

"You'll return everything you took?" He asked hesitating.

"I speak the truth Dryeden. I'll return everything I took. I like the thought of staying with you no more running and hiding." You where afraid. You'd been an outlaw since a child but the thought of living in comfort and stability with Dryeden made your heart race.

"Ah my sweet Lantana!" He cries in delight. Pulling back he looked down at you. At the soft look on his face you placed a soft kiss on his nose. He whinned in need. Lefting you up with ease he placed you on the nest hovering above you.

  You smiled brightly at him and it was as though his world had caved in. You were his everything. His heart, his soul if you had refused to give up being an outlaw he'd have joined you and you didn't even know it.

"Well Sherrif are you going to mate me or just stare at me." You teased. This time when you looked into his eyes it was a mix between purple and red. As you went to ask him he opened his mouth just enough to stick his tongue down your throat. You whinned as he kissed you deep. The feeling of his tongue in your mouth making you wet. He pulled back a almost soft frown on his face.

"We will have to practice kissing my mate I feel as though I'm just fucking your pretty throat with my tongue." He said a hint of annoyance in his voice as he stared down at your lips. You burst into laughter you'd had never felt such joy before.

"We will have plenty of time to practice everything." You whispered kissing along the scales on his neck. He shuddered at the feeling of you playing with one if the scutes that trailed down his spine.

He pulled back dragging his clawed hands along your body as he reached your stomach you flinched. One of his claws had nicked your stomach. He froze licking the blood off your stomach.

"I'll file my nails down more later for now this will have to do." He said, biting off the nails of his index finger and middle finger. Gently dragging one of his fingers along your clit. You moaned at the feeling. Trailing off into a whine as the finger slid into your eager opening. "I have to stretch you for my cock or you'll never take all of me." He growled adding in the second finger sliding his thumb onto your clit. You moaned at the feeling of his scaled fingers stretching you.

"Oh little outlaw your such a site your pretty pussy clenching around my fingers. Shes soaking me wanting to be stuffed full with my cock." You cried out at his words your back arching as he pushed his fingers in deeper. It felt like he was searching for something within your needy cunt.

Your eyes rolled back and let out a silent sound as he pushed onto your g-spot. He growled in delight focusing on that spot while rubbing his thumb in circles on your clit. He continued to fuck you with his fingers. Rotating between pressing against your g-spot and scissoring you as wide open as he could.

"Your getting close my Lantana I can feel how tight you are getting  around my fingers. Cum for me my precious flower." With a cry you came undone on his fingers back arching as he worked you through your orgasam.

"Dreyden please I need you." You whinned reaching out to your mate. Pouting as Dreyden shook his head at you.

"You have to cum atleast two more times to make sure you dont get hurt taking my cock and eggs." He huffed sliding down to place himself between your legs. You looked at him taking in the look on his face. He was enchanting. The look of pure desire written on his face. He gave you that crocodile smile. Opening his mouth and snapping his teeth at the fingers you'd allowed to pet his nose.

"If your going to make me cum again what are you doing all the way down there?" You asked teasing. Dreyden chuckled at your words. He lowered himself more making sure his hands where tight on your waist. You watched as he opened his mouth wide clamping his teeth against your stomach. The feeling of his breath against your cunt made you whimper. Dreyden dragged his tongue along your ass slowly pushing his tongue inside of your clenching cunt.  He whimpered at the taste of your juices.

Your eyes rolled back as you let out a whine. His tongue was as large as a cock and stretching you wide. You looked back down at him your fingers digging into the nest. Dreyden took in every sound, move, and look that you made. His teeth clamped tight enough to draw blood as he slowly moved his tongue inside of you.

He stroked the inside of your cunt with his thick tongue. You trembled as he started to get more aggressive. Increasing the pace of his tongue as he began to feast.

You tasted better then anything he'd ever tasted he'd decided he could live between your legs if you'd let him. Living only off of the taste of you. 

You couldn't take your eyes off of Dreyden. He was lazily moving his tongue inside of your core. Feasting upon you as though you where the last fruit standing in this awful desert.

You gently places your hand on the tip of his nose moaning softly. You pathetically tried to role your hips to receive more friction, but couldn't move an inch between Dreyden's jaw holding you in place and his hands gripping your thighs.

Dreyden groaned deciding to take mercy upon both of you. He snarled using his strength to fuck your body onto his tongue. He knew he should make you come one more time after this but he couldn't take it anymore he needed to be inside of you.

He listened to your sweet sounds as you came on his tongue flooding his senses with the taste and the scent of your release. You felt tears falling down your face Dreyden had already made you cum twice and you knew he intended to do it again.

"Please Dreyden I want you to breed me now." You sniffled hoping to convince your new mate to have pity on your overstimulated mind.

"Aww my poor Lantana. As you wish I'll fill you up with my eggs now." He smirked down at you moving himself back to give you a view of his cloaca. You licked your lips following him into a sitting postion. As you gently trailed the outer lips of his cloaca, Dreyden growled his pupils dilating like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

"My Lantana lay your hand out flat for me." He moaned. You were quick to do as he asked.

Eyes widening as his huge cock slid past the barrier of his cloaca landing right into your open palm. You took in the site of his cock nothing like a humans. He had to be atleast 15in if not more. His cock was covered in small ridges that almost reminded you of his scutes. And the tip was more open clearly to allow his eggs out.

"So male hybrids can produce eggs and sperm?" You asked curious as you continued to explore his cock with your hands.

"Really little one? You wish to ask questions now?" He asked. Closing his jaw tight with a sharp inhale as swirled your finger around the opening.

"Yes. I want to know." You stated. Dreyden noticed your guard was climbing up as you continued to look at his cock.

"We will take it slow My Lantana. There is no need for you to be afraid." He snarled grabbing your hand.

"Please Dreyden just tell me really quick. I'm a human we aren't normally suppose to carry eggs." You whinned looking him in the eyes his eyes. He sighed.

"If it will bring you comfort I'll explain it. Yes the males of my kind carry both eggs and sperm. The eggs begin to form when we find someone who we select as a perfect mate. My sperm will help adjust your body to aid you in carrying our eggs." He huffed out his half hearted explanation. Once you were carrying his eggs he'd teach you everything you could possibly wish to know.

Dreyden pushed you back down using his strength to flip you onto your stomach. He cupped his hand around your belly partially to keep you stable but mostly because he wanted to feel you swelling with his eggs.

You whinned as Dreydens cock dragged along your folds seeking out the entrance to your wipping cunt. He pulled back taking his cock into his free hand he slowly slid the tip into you.

He growled as he took his time slowly pushing inch by inch into your clenching cunt. As he hit half way in, he dropped himself down using one hand to keep his weight off you. All while incasing your body with his own. Keeping his other hand cupped tight against your stomach his claws digging in just enough to bring you a light pain amongst all the pleasure.

"Your so tight around me my Lantana. I can feel ever ripple of your sweet little pussy as she begs for me to stuff her full." He moaned out pushing himself in deeper. You where a whimpering mess beneath him letting out moans everytime he pushed himself in more. As he found that he couldn't go any deeper he let out a annoyed rumble.

Pulling himself out he flipped you onto your back smiling at the site of you. Your hair was a mess and your pupils had expanded. Soft sounds left your lips as you reached out to him.

"Bite into my scales." He ordered. He dragged the side of his mouth along your head. Letting some of his canines scratch along the top of your ear. You moaned biting down lightly onto his chest. "Oh sweet heart your going to bite harder then that."

He pushed the tip of his cock in. You let out a cry biting down onto hard onto his chest. He thrusted all the way into your cunt. You could truly feel him now he was pressed right into your cervix the ridges on his cock gently rubbing against your g spot. Dreyden started with slow shallow thurst allowing you to stretch around him. Your fingers dug into his back while your teeth tried to pierce his scales.

You felt tears falling down your face in full force as Dreyden began to move faster. His rough pace rubbing your chest along his own. He pounded into your poor cunt finally pulling back to hear your sweet cries.

"Your crying my Lovely Mate. Yet I won't stop. The site of your pretty little pussy clenching around my cock is all I'll ever think about again." He snarled watching the way your stomach bulged with every thrust.

"Your so good taking my cock so well. I can't wait for you to cum all over my cock and swallow my eggs into your womb." He growled dragging your leg up against his side pushing himself in deeper. You let out only what could be described as a high pitch whine. As you began to coat his cock with your cum. Dreyden let out a growl.

"That's it. My Lantana your cumming so hard for me." He moaned continuing with his brutal pace.

"Dreyden! Please I need just a second." You sobbed trying to wiggle away from him. You where to sensitive and Dreyden wasn't letting up.

"It's to much for you is it? My poor girl, I won't be stopping tell your womb is heavy with my eggs." He growled pulling you up to push deeper and rub your clit against the softer scales on his abdomen.

"Ah I could keep you cumming on my cock." He moaned rocking his hips slowly giving you a moment to catch your breath. You let out soft moans as he slowly rocked his hips keeping his eyes on you.

"That's it beautiful relax on my cock I can't have you so upset and tense when I fill you up." He cooed at you wiping the tears from your cheeks with his large hand. You nuzzled his palm sniffling from the tears you had shed. Dreyden let a couple minutes pass tell the ripples of your climax dulled down to soft clenches. Softly biting your lip you looked at your mate.

"Oo..okay.. Dreyden. . I think I'm ready. I want your eggs." You whimpered out nibbling on your lip. He nodded starting back up with some soft shallow thrust. Building up into a rougher pace.

He began to brutally pound against your cervix listening only to your sweet cries as his eggs began to push against his cloaca. It was time for him to fill you up.

He pulled back almost slipping out ,before thrusting back down roughly. This allowed the head of his cock to slip into your cervix giving his eggs access to your womb.

You tensed up almost trying to pull away as unfamiliar pressure began at the entrance of your cunt. You closed your eyes grinding your teeth. You felt the first egg work it's way up to your cervix before it pushed it's way inside settling against the wall of your womb. You moaned softly trembling trying to pull away as the next egg began to make it's way.

"Don't fight it Lantana, you doing such a good job for me. Already holding one of our eggs you can take the rest." He whispered trying his best to keep you at easy. He reached down using one clawed thumb to play with your clit as the second egg entered your womb. You moaned once again feeling tears fall down your face.

How could something feel so incredible yet uncomfortable at the same time. Dreyden rocked his hips watching your tight cunt swallow his eggs as they pushed there way inside. He swallowed,  your belly was beginning to swell as the third egg had made its way inside.

"Dreyden... how many eggs are there?" You whimpered eyes sliding closed as the eggs continued to make there way inside.

"My eggs have been forming since we meet at the saloon my little outlaw. I'm guessing atleast six." He grunted out thrusting a little deeper to adjust the eggs already resting inside of you. You whinned out at his actions cracking your eyes open enough to glare at him.

"We are only at three right now My Lantana. You can only take one egg at a time." You looked at him feeling a little annoyed at his words.

"All I can feel is you and the eggs." You whimpered rocking your own hips. Feeling the fourth and fifth egg push there way in.

He groaned the sixth was the biggest he could fell his own cloaca struggling with the size.

"My little Lantana this last egg is big. You have to stay calm. Once its inside ill make you cum again. " He whispered nuzzling against your chest. At the pressure forming inside your cunt you knew his words to be true. The other eggs had been uncomfortable but this egg was thick spreading you open even wider on Dreydens cock.

"Dreyden. I can't." You sobbed out trying to wiggle away from him and the egg.

"You have to be a good girl and take it." He snarled grabbing your hips and thrusting himself foward. You whinned shaking your head as the pressure intensified.

You wanted to do nothing more then to make Dreyden proud of you for being able to carry all his eggs. Plus the thought of one of your eggs not making it because of you broke your heart. So half heartdly you rolled your hips back taking the egg and Dreydens cock deeper.

"There we go. Look at that so spread open for me so willing to push yourself to take all my eggs." He cooed spreading your lips open to get a better view of his cock being swallowed up by your cunt. As the final egg pushed into your womb you let out a broken sob sinking your teeth into your own hand. Dreyden reached out wipping away at your tears.

"Shhh, your okay it's all the way in now sweet." He cooed licking at your knuckles.  As you settled your head onto his chest breathing slowing he chuckled.

"We aren't done yet My Lantana your gonna cum one more time so I can fertilize our eggs." He purred rocking his hips.

He settled into a steady pace allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. Slowly thrusting into you. You where already worn out and he wanted to let you rest. Appling more pressure to your clit and giving a couple more thrust he smiled as you came.

He growled as he pulled back to take in the site of his beautiful mate. Your stomach bloated with his eggs your face covered in tears. Dreyden came at the site coating your womb and his eggs with seed. He moaned giving shallow thurst to keep the cum pushed into your cunt.

Dreyden finally pulled out after a couple minutes. Slowly watching as thick glops of his cum slid out of your cunt. He slowly pushed the cum back  feeling inside your cunt to make sure the eggs where being held safely.

"You did such a good job!My beautiful Lantana all six of our eggs are safely in your womb." He said rubbing his face against your swollen belly. You slowly touched your own stomach feeling the eggs.

"Six babies?" You whispered in awe.

"Yes six! Ill keep you full of my cum for the next 90 days then we will lay the eggs so they can hatch on there own." He stated his eyes shinning with excitment. He had found his perfect mate. You would now be his forever nothing would take you from him.

[flemingology]

sparks and spokes ─ jessie fleming x reader

in which: jessie's unlucky flat tire leads to an unexpected connection

warnings: none

wc: 1.9K

a/n: this might be a bit unrealistic, considering the timeline of events in this. but let's ignore it. based on this request! hope you enjoy it.

Ever since making her big move to Portland, Jessie had found her love for biking again. She hadn't particularly lost it while playing in London, but it's safe to say that it wasn't the easiest city to navigate, especially not during rush hour. In Oregon, Jessie felt a bit more comfortable on her bike so once she got the all-clear from her coach and was allowed to ride her bike to home games and training sessions, she'd never arrived by car again.

After a first few weeks of settling into her new place, she ventured out to the bike store a couple minutes from her apartment. After a couple minutes of looking around without purpose, she spoke to an employee who picked out the perfect bike for her. A black, slightly more sporty type of bike is what she went for in the end. She also got a helmet, a lock and a pair of spare bike lights, all set to explore Portland on two wheels.

It was gameday today, lunch time kick-off, so Jessie went through her usual morning routine. Waking up at 8, doing some light stretching before jumping in the shower. She made herself breakfast – eggs on toast, as usual – and a coffee, which she kept in her travel mug to keep with her throughout the day. By 10 she was out the door, double, triple checking she had everything with her in her bag. She was a forgetful person, but couldn't afford to miss out on anything today. Especially seen as she rode her bikes to games these days, she couldn't just quickly drive back to her apartment in case she had forgotten something.

Jessie unlocked her bike that she parked in the bike shed last night. She had gone out for an evening ride after the 5pm rush had relented, enjoying the slight breeze that was blowing through her curls. Autumn was around the corner in Portland, framing the city in a hue of yellow, red and orange. Jessie biked around aimlessly for a little hour before going home and getting in bed early, making sure she got her 9 hours of sleep.

She wasn't this lucky this morning, even though the initial morning rush had passed, 10am wasn't particularly forgiving either on the roads. She rode her bike out of her apartment complex and hit the streets, expertly manoeuvring herself through the busy roads of Portland, trying to make it to her game in time.

She didn't notice it at first, but the moment Jessie felt like she was riding on metal rather than on rubber gave away that something was wrong. The Canadian silently cursed and made her way onto the pavement, getting off her bike and quickly checking the deflating front tire. "Shit", she mumbled. She must have biked over something sharp that was laying around on the bike line, without noticing. The tire had fallen completely flat, Jessie's attempt at feeling whether there was any air left only aiding in letting it run empty.

She tried not to panic while mentally assessing what her options were. She could lock her bike up here and walk the rest of the way, but she would certainly be late. She contemplated calling an Uber, but by the time the driver would've navigated his way through Portland traffic, there's no way she would make it in time. Jessie ran her hands across her face and sighed deeply. After a couple moments she grabbed her phone, which she had neatly tucked away in her backpack, and started dialing coach's number to let him that she would most likely be late for warm-ups.

Her finger hovered over the call button when she felt someone tap on her shoulder, slightly jumping up at the surprising touch. Jessie's head twisted to the side and noticed someone standing behind her, cheeks equally flushed and hair just as disheveled as hers – Jessie assumed you were out for a run, considering the sporty attire. She turned her body towards you and cocked her head to the side, expecting you to speak up.

You were still catching your breath as you tried to form a sentence. "Hi," you started. "I noticed that you were struggling with your bike," you took a deep breath and tried to control your heartbeat, having abruptly stopped your run to help out the stranger that seemed to be in a bit of trouble. Jessie's cheeks flushed again, not due to the breeze this time. "I don't know how much time you have but I live two minutes down the road and I'm pretty sure I've got a spare laying around in the garage."

You had to catch your breath again, creating an awkward silence between the two of you as neither spoke. You cocked your head at the freckled girl in front of you, expecting a reply. Seemingly she noticed, because she cleared her throat and spoke up. "Uhm, yeah," she rubbed her hands off on her sweatpants. "I'm in a bit of a rush, though," Jessie said nervously. Her heartbeat was still racing, unsure whether it was caused by the biking or by the girl that was standing in front of her.

"You stay here, I'll get a run on it and get you that tire. I'll be back in max 5," before Jessie could quip anything back you'd already set off towards your apartment.

True to your word, you made it back to Jessie and her bike in 4 minutes. If you were out of breath when you first spoke to her, you surely were now. You didn't say much, instead getting to work on her bike immediately. You'd have a bit more decency on another day, but knowing the girl was in a rush you thought this was the better approach. Jessie felt a bit helpless, chiming in every now and then to see if she could help but ultimately she took a step back and let you do your thing, her interrupting probably only prolonging the process.

A couple moments later you stood back up from your kneeling position, dusted off your hands on your top and took a step back, sparing another look at the new front tire you had just put on the bike. "That'll do, I think. Should get you where you want to be."

Jessie clasped her hands in front of her and braved a look at you, locking eyes. "Thank you so much, honestly," she felt warmth creeping up her cheeks when you shot her a wide smile.

"Not a bother. Honestly. I needed to get rid of that tire anyway. I hope it doesn't give out too soon, seen as it's been lying around my garage for a good couple months."

Jessie nodded, clearly unsure of what her next step should be. She rocked back and forth from her heels to her tippy-toes before clearing her throat and finding eye contact with you once again. "Jessie," she started, but frowned. "My name. My name is Jessie", she said, cursing herself about how awkward she was being. You didn't seem to mind, though, sporting a toothy grin when she finished her sentence.

"Well, nice to meet you Jessie. I'm Y/N."

She stuck out a hand which you eagerly shook, as you allowed yourself to take in her features, not having had a chance to properly look at her before. She was slightly shorter than you, curly hair framing a freckled and defined face. She was wearing a matching tracksuit, telling you she was probably on her way to a sporting event. Her lips were slightly chapped, the first autumn breeze clearly already leaving it's traces behind on the Portland residents.

Unbeknownst to you Jessie was doing the same, her eyes taking you in and maybe even losing track of time a little, forgetting that she should've been on her way to the stadium already.

She let go of your hand that she kept in a handshake for embarrassingly long, clearing her throat before speaking. "Okay, I should go. I'm running late already," she put her helmet back on and threw one of her legs over the bike saddle. "I owe you one. Big time."

You waved away Jessie's words and bid her a final goodbye, smiling to yourself at the heartfelt interaction you just shared with the stranger. You walked the rest of your way back home with an extra spring in your step, fueled by the brown-haired Canadian you had no idea was now on her way to play football in America's highest league.

Later that night, you catch yourself thinking back on what happened earlier that day. The handshake that lingered, her eyes scanning your face and her flushed cheeks whenever your eyes locked – you couldn't get your mind off the girl.

You knew her name was Jessie, but that didn't get you far. A bit of mindless scrolling through profiles of Jessie's near you didn't give you any clues. Suddenly, you thought back at the clothes she was wearing. You'd noticed the red badge adorning both the pants and the hoodie. You started a google search of Portland sports teams until you came across a badge that looked exactly like the one Jessie was sporting, and your jaw fell slack.

As much as you liked your running, you knew nothing about other sports. Especially not football. You'd never really understood the appeal to it, not finding it entertaining enough to sit down for 90+ minutes and watch 22 people run after a ball. You quickly made your way over to the social media of the Portland Thorns, still not really believing that you'd encountered a famous footballer a couple hours ago and neither you or her spoke a word about that.

A bit of clueless scrolling later you found yourself checking the score of the game that had been played a couple hours earlier, surprised at a certain 'Jessie Fleming' being on the scoresheet. You figured as much, but you were still taken aback when you looked her name up and saw the person you gave your spare tire to merely hours ago.

Your hands felt clammy all of a sudden, nerves spiking up about how you could approach this. You certainly wanted to hear of her again. Even though she said she owed you one, you figured that with a busy schedule, repaying you might not be on the top of her list.

A couple nervous minutes later, you had found Jessie's instagram. You scrolled through her posts, mindful not to like any posts or do anything that would give away that you were stalking her socials. As little as there was on the account, you could see a bit of personality seeping through. She clearly loved taking pictures, liked nature, seemingly had a dog and just seemed fun to be around. You rubbed one of your hands across your face, contemplating your options.

Jessie arrived home late that night, having stayed at Sinc's for dinner after the game. She parked her bike in the bike shed and quickly made her way upstairs, desperate to be enveloped in the warmth of her own home again. She unlocked the door and threw her keys in the basket on the counter. She took off her shoes and neatly put them in their place on the shoe rack, her slight clean-freak personality shining through once again.

She slumped down on the couch and turned on Netflix for her umpteenth rewatch of a brainless show, before grabbing her phone from her pocket. Her eyes grew wide at the top notifications.

Y/I/N started following you.

Y/I/N: So, a footballer huh? Nice one, Fleming ;)

A/N: I hate the use of Y/N but I couldn't really get around it this time lol

[bokettochild]

I cannot BELIEVE no one told me we had an update!!!!!

Anyways, here's my favorite bits as always, because I need to SCREAM about this one!

The rupee acquisition!

I love how JoJo included that traditional *item acquired* pose that all the Links do, and gave it a reason in the comic (Wind insisting he hold it up is just so fun)

Sky's comment though, "don't spend it all in one place". Isn't that a line you get in Skord when you acquire rupees? The cute little easter eggs here are so fun!

I also really love how Legend is taking an instructional role here, both with Wars and the champion!

While also letting his veteran show

and I love that the rest recognize that! Wild calling Legend "an expert" and actually listening to what he has to say, even if he doesn't agree with it.

I also super like the panels of Twilight's interaction with Legend here

Very eldest and middle sibling discussing the youngest child, and I love it. It reminds us that, even for all the cuteness we got between them in the last arc, Twilight still sees Legend as too rough around the edges, enough that it borders on bullying when it comes to some of the rest, and he's trying to curb that. And Legend is LISTENING, because (as I've said a thousand times) Legend respects Twilight and values his opinion. Twilight is his big brother too now and Legend, while still being himself, genuinely seems to care about his opinion.

Twilight's just tense in general, although why, I think is mostly because of Time's sharp scolding in the last update. Even though he's snapping back at the younger ones, he's not very happy to be snapped at right now, and he's eager to get out from under Time's watchful eye.

Time and Warriors

Because while he feels e has grounds to correct Legend for telling Wild what to do, Warriors straight up subtly scolding his protege is different. And the difference is that Legend and Wild and Twi had camaraderie (see Dawn p.3), they're brothers, but Wars is approaching this as a commander, a captain, and Twi doesn't appreciate that. Warriors isn't their leader though, but he's taking that role anyways. (Old habits die hard, I'm sure)

I mean, we all knew Wars was going to confront Wild sooner or later, but I'm glad he was so calm about it. Twilight's ruffled feathers (fur) is more from Time being overbearing, I believe, so it aggravates any slight annoyance Warriors might present.

Even despite some of our suspicions earlier, I like this bit here. Wild was a soldier once, and the captain is very much the image of what he would have worked with before. JoJo mentioned wanting to play with that dynamic, with them bothering having military background, and I think this is that training (hundred years ago though it was) kicking in and making the champion defer to the man who outranks him (as far as they know). Granted, they all call Wars "Captain" but this felt pointed.

I do love Four acting as the word of wisdom here, advising Time, just like he does Twilight, as to the best way to handle a team. it's a reminder that he's done this before, and he knows how teamwork can be, but also that sometimes you need space and working together means working in different areas.

Anyways, here's a couple bonus things that make me happy!

Bunny stance!

(shh, I know he's making a point by stepping on Wild's toes, let me have this)

Wars being so freaking pretty! Dear Hylia help me! (Is it wrong I understand Cia a bit now?)

Wind being the youngest sibling who is Done With Your Chatter

A competent boy being competent (and not as experienced as Ledge, but pretty darn close (if you've played both their games you know))

Showing off items! (I can hear the little ✨da nana na✨)

And of course, I love Time being a tired, overprotective parent (he looks like my mom here, good grief!)

[serpentface]

Just dropping some illustrations of animals that I've only mentioned in passing (mostly in regional food posts), found within claimed Imperial Wardi territory.

Left to right (all to scale):

Grynaig, crested eagle, taarn, unkata, piispiispi, anara, nechoi.

Descriptions below:

The grynaig, a type of pigeon found primarily in the highlands. They come in a few local color morphs, ranging from this brown-white to a chestnut color (mostly dependent on the types of rocks they nest upon). They nest on the tops and sides of boulders and cliffs, out of reach from most ground-based predators and camouflaged from predatory birds above. They are commonly hunted for food, and are regarded as having beautiful calls.

The crested eagle, found widely across the region. They are specialized predators of snakes and will readily attack highly venomous species, having thick-skinned, pebbly textured legs as defense against bites. They will also take other reptiles, and occasionally prey on small birds and mammals. Among the peoples of the highlands, widespread belief holds these to be (one of many) birds that ancestors will send or take the form of in order to provide guidance and give omens to the living. Crested eagles are often an omen of hidden danger, be it a figurative or literal snake in the grass.

The taarn, a pheasant native to the highlands and domesticated for meat and eggs. The domestic stock has several color morphs and a few distinct breeds, a wild male taarn is pictured here. Wild taarn can be found in high altitudes in the warm dry season, and migrate down to the river valleys in the cold wet season. Taarn form the vast majority of captive fowl in the highlands, being the most tolerant of cooler, high altitude conditions. Males possess sharp spurs, and are used regionally for cockfighting. Cockfighting is also popular in parts of the Imperial Wardi cultural sphere and taarn may be exported largely for this purpose, being imagined as uniquely fierce, having been shaped by their hostile environment (in reality, they don't tend to fare well against the common rooster).

The unkata, a genus of large flightless birds. Several species can be found in the region, all of which are flightless and relatively large. The one here is a male savannah unkata in breeding plumage (about the size of a cassowary). Male unkata often have colorful wings, and all possess long, unfeathered quills. The wings are shaken as a part of courtship displays, creating a rattling sound and dazzling visual effect. These birds are herbivores and feed on grass, leaves, tender shoots, and fruit, but will consume insects and small mammals/reptiles when the opportunity presents itself. Most unkata are commonly hunted as wild game, and their large eggs are often prized as food and used for carving.

The piispiispi, named for its devastatingly silly warning cries (the sound is a shrill PeEEESSsss-PeEEESSsss-PIPIPIPIPI!). This is a fairly large and stocky lagomorph that lives only in the highlands and almost exclusively at high altitudes (with rabbits filling their niches in the river valleys). They subsist primarily on grasses, and are known agricultural pests. They pack on substantial weight prior to the winters (which is the best time to hunt them for rich, fatty meat), but do not truly hibernate, instead alternating between periods of low activity in their burrows and emerging to graze (the winters here are relatively warm, and snow cover is often patchy or impermanent at all but the highest altitudes).

The anara, a genus of large semi-aquatic rodent. Two species can be found in the region (the larger of which is shown here, both look very similar) and can be found throughout in most rivers, lakes, ponds, and wetlands. Their tail is flattened vertically and used to propel them through water, though they retain (relatively) long legs, as they spend much of their time foraging on land, usually staying within a couple hundred feet of water. They are considered agricultural pests, and are commonly hunted for pest control and their meat (particularly the tail, which is uniquely rich and fatty).

They construct small lodges along banks for shelter in a similar capacity to beavers. They do not build dams, but dig canals to connect bodies of water (for ease of movement and to flee from predators). These canals are often expanded by the comings and goings of an-nechoi, and together the two species are of key ecological significance to their environments, vastly expanding the size of wetlands and the reach of seasonal floods. The two species also seem to get along quite well (especially given the notoriously bad temper of an-nechoi, and the bite-sized nature of anara), often peacefully sharing the same habitats in close quarters. Young anara are sometimes even seen resting on the backs of submerged an-nechoi. This connection is widely noted, and a subject of many regional animal folktales.

Nechoi, a family of pig-like opportunistic omnivores. The one pictured here is a scrub nechoi, one of the larger in the region (though dwarved by their somewhat distant, semi-aquatic an-nechoi relatives). These are the most widespread and generalized, and fare well in dry environments (mostly being found in the grasslands and savannahs). The skin of this species is exposed (though they bear a dense mane and thick, wiry hairs throughout), and they will coat themselves in mud and dust to protect against the sun and parasites. This particular species bears impressive tusks in the boars, and smaller tusks in the sows (shown here), and they are often hunted for their ivory.

Most nechoi bear very powerful jaws with a wide gape, and boars will fight over territory and mates by yawning and slashing at each other with their sharp teeth. These conflicts result in a scarred appearance in most older boars, and can sometimes be fatal. As with most nechoi, these animals feed primarily as browsers, but will readily scavenge and may opportunistically take live prey, mostly arthropods and small vertebrates. Predatory attacks on animals bigger than they can fit into their mouths are rare, but larger nechoi such as these are considered dangerous, and may readily eat humans injured or killed in territorial or defensive aggression. These more dangerous nechoi are sometimes subjects to taboos against eating the flesh of man-eaters, though smaller nechoi are common game animals.

[vintagerpg]

The world of Harn is all about the creation of a richly detailed and plausible medieval fantasy world. Plausible, not realistic, though realism is often a driving design concern. And that’s the approach that was taken in Nasty, Brutish and Short: The Orcs of Harn (1997). This is a dicey proposition.

Orcs are not a product of the natural world of Harn. They were either created somehow, in an earlier age, by an evil sorcerer, or imported from a different dimension. They are alien in a couple key ways — somewhat hive like, they are born from eggs (ew) laid by a single queen and share an innate tribal memory. Thus, they inherit learned behavior from the generations before, which informs and reinforces their actions, sometimes irrationally. This seems to indicate both an awareness and wariness of the idea of a type of monster existing as monolith. These orcs are still sort of a monolith, but an attempt has been made to explain why, and it works well enough because they are surrounded by various other cultures that are, for game purposes, somewhat monolithic on the surface.

It’s maybe not ideal, but I also don’t really know how you handle orcs differently in the context of Harn, and for what this is, I think it’s rather well done (at one point, in an explanation for a scenario involving helping wounded orcs, the author suggests rolling up the module to “thrash them soundly about the ears” if the players seem inclined to meet requests for mercy with violence). Brutal as most orcs are, it’s the plotting of humans and dwarves that most often uses them as instruments of violence, usually for political gain. The scenarios, for the most part, put players in the way of those schemes.

As usual for Harn, the visuals of the book are in good hands with Chris Hotz, who did all the illustrations and maps. I think the maps are particularly sharp and the cover art stands as one of the line’s very best.

[why4anne]

Money Power Glory

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Mafia! au

Part: 4/?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

Summary: When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Note: There are a lot of easter eggs and hidden clues in this chapter. I would love to hear your theories about future chapters either in the comments or through my asks🫶

Masterlist

As the days went on you got more and more familiar with the routine at the mansion, which you’ve come to know is actually named Manoir De Mendacium. Every morning at eight, a member of the staff would wake you up and tell you that Mr. Leclerc is expecting you to join him for breakfast. 

And today is no different. Like clockwork you heard a knock on your door at 8am sharp, and a voice telling you that Mr. Leclerc is waiting for you downstairs. You threw on a mesh robe over your mid length satin nightgown and headed towards the breakfast room. 

Your slippers made soft thuds against the herringbone hardwood floor as you padded along the hallways and down the grand staircase. In your first couple of days you found the dark color pallet and extravagant wood molding intimidating but as time went by you’ve actually come to like it. 

As you neared the breakfast room you could hear Charles’ voice as he was talking on the phone. 

“Make sure all parties involved in Project 8085 are compensated. We do not want this to be exposed” Charles demanded sternly into the phone before his eyes were drawn to yours. He motioned for you to sit down as he ended the phone call. “Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?” He asked as you sat down on the plush chair.

“Like a baby, as always” You couldn’t help but smile at the question. The same question he’s been asking you every morning for two weeks at this point

Charles’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, a softness in them that always made you feel safe, despite the strangeness of your situation. As breakfast is served, an assortment of pastries, fruits, and freshly squeezed juice, you tried to shake off the feeling of unease his earlier conversation had caused.

“Project 8085?” you asked, hoping your voice sounded casual.

Charles looked up, a flicker of something—annoyance?—crossed his face. “Just business, nothing for you to worry about.”

You nodded, but curiosity nagged at you but you decided to drop it. Charles motioned to the staff to begin serving breakfast. The table was laid out with a variety of dishes, from freshly baked croissants to exotic fruits and rich, aromatic coffee. You helped yourself to a little of everything, enjoying the decadent spread.

As you sipped your coffee, you noticed Charles studying you intently. His gaze was penetrating, almost as if he was trying to read your thoughts. You shifted slightly in your seat, feeling a mix of curiosity and unease.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Charles leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins slowly, “about how we can keep you safe and still allow you some freedom. As much as I would like to, I can’t infiltrate the University to keep you safe, because technically it’s outside of the part of Monaco that I control” He says, the yellow sunlight shining through the window, lighting up the room in a juxtaposition to this dark conversation.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what did you come up with?”

“I’ve arranged for you to take online classes,” he explained. “That way, you can continue your studies without leaving the safety of the manor.”

You pondered this for a moment. “It’s not a bad idea,” you admitted. “But what about my social life? My friends?”

Charles’s expression darkened slightly. “I can’t risk your safety, not with everything that’s going on. We’ll have to be cautious about who you see and when.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, Charles. Really, I do. But I can’t help but feel a bit... isolated.”

He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s the best solution for now. Just until things settle down.”

You squeezed his hand, offering a reassuring smile. “I trust you.”

The rest of the breakfast was spent in companionable silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. Afterward, Charles excused himself to attend to business matters, leaving you to explore the manor at your leisure.

As Charles left to attend to his business matters, you found yourself wandering through the halls of Manoir De Mendacium, the grandeur of the mansion still somewhat surreal to you. Each room seems to tell a story of opulence and mystery, a stark contrast to your university life just a few weeks ago.

You decided to explore beyond the confines of the breakfast room, letting your curiosity guide you. The mansion is like a maze, with its winding corridors and numerous rooms, each decorated with antique furniture and elaborate paintings. You stumbled upon a library that seems straight out of a period drama, shelves lined with leather-bound books and the air heavy with the scent of old paper. It's a peaceful sanctuary amidst the intensity of the past few weeks.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the footsteps approaching until Charles appeared at the entrance of the library. His presence startled you slightly, but his expression was soft as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Exploring, I see?" he remarked with a faint smile.

You nodded, closing the book you were perusing and placed it back on the shelf. "The library is beautiful. I didn't realize this place held so many treasures."

Charles stepped further into the room, his gaze thoughtful. "It has been in my family for generations. Each piece here tells a story, much like the people who have passed through these halls."

You sensed a melancholy in his voice, a reminder that his life is far from ordinary. "It must be quite a responsibility," you offered softly, unsure of how to broach the topic of his underworld dealings.

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of resolve and vulnerability. "It's not a life I chose, but it's one I must live. And I intend to keep you safe, no matter the cost."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. You stepped closer to him, the urge to comfort him overwhelming. "I believe you," you said sincerely, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the situation palpable. Then, Charles cleared his throat gently, breaking the silence. "Would you like me to show you more of the mansion? There are gardens beyond these walls that are quite breathtaking."

You smiled gratefully, relieved for the change of subject. "I'd love that."

As you walked side by side through the manicured gardens, Charles pointed  out various features—the fountain where his grandfather proposed to his grandmother, the begonia flowers that have bloomed for decades, and the secret paths that wind through the estate. His demeanor softened in the sunlight, and you realized how rare these moments of peace must be for him.

"You know," Charles began as you paused near a bed of vibrant tulips, "despite everything, I'm glad you're here."

You turned to him, touched by his admission. "I'm glad too, Charles. It's all still a bit overwhelming, but being here with you... it feels right."

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch was warm against your skin. "We'll figure this out, together."

As you looked into his green eyes, you saw a complexity that both intrigued and reassured you. Despite the dangers and uncertainties that surrounded you, in that moment, you felt a connection that transcends the circumstances that brought you together.

“I want to ask you something, sweetheart” Charles murmured and his gaze never left yours. You nodded in confirmation for him to continue. 

“I know that you didn’t want things to turn out this way, but they have. And all we can do now is make the best of a bad situation” He rambled, uncharacteristically bashful. This is not the cold and confident crime boss that you’re used to. “I guess what I’m asking of you is to give this, us, a chance”

His words hung in the air, creating a fragile tension between you. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his request. A myriad of thoughts raced through your mind—concern for your safety, the stark contrast between your old life and the one you were now living, and the undeniable attraction you felt towards Charles.

"I..." you hesitated, searching for the right words. The weight of his request hung in the air, but you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that made you feel closer to him. "I want to give this a chance too, Charles."

A wave of relief washed over his face, and his lips curved into a genuine smile. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture. "Thank you, darling. We’ll take it one step at a time."

As you continued to stroll through the gardens, the atmosphere between you shifted. There was a newfound understanding, a shared commitment to navigating this precarious path together. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of lighthearted banter and deeper confessions, revealing more layers of the man behind the Mafia boss facade.

Later that evening, you found yourself in the library once more, the ambiance warm and inviting. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a golden glow on the shelves filled with literary treasures. You had selected a novel from one of the many bookcases and settled into a plush armchair, lost in the world of fiction.

Charles entered the room, a glass of red wine in hand. He approached you with a soft smile, offering you the glass. "Thought you might like this," he said, his tone gentle.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the glass and taking a sip. The wine was rich and velvety, a perfect complement to the cozy atmosphere. Charles sat across from you, his own glass in hand, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the comfortable silence.

"I've been thinking," Charles began, his voice breaking the quiet. "About how we can make this arrangement work. How we can build something real, despite everything."

You looked at him over the rim of your glass, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

"I mean integrating you into my life more fully," he explained. "Not just keeping you hidden away here, but involving you in my world in a way that keeps you safe but also lets you live more freely."

The idea intrigued and terrified you in equal measure. The notion of being more involved in Charles's world was daunting, but the alternative—living in isolation—was equally unappealing. "How would that even work?" you asked, trying to wrap your mind around the concept.

Charles leaned forward, his gaze earnest. "There are ways to ensure your safety without keeping you confined to the manor. Disguises, trusted escorts, carefully planned outings. We could even set up a network of people who could keep an eye on you without drawing attention."

You considered his proposal, the implications of such a life. It would be dangerous, no doubt, but it would also mean a semblance of normalcy, a chance to experience the world beyond the walls of Manoir De Mendacium. "It's a lot to take in," you admitted. "But I appreciate that you're trying to find a balance."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "We don’t have to decide everything right now. But I want you to know that I'm committed to finding a way for us to be together, in a way that works for both of us."

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at his words. "Thank you, Charles. For everything."

He reached out, taking your hand once more. "We'll get through this, darling. Together."

As the evening wore on, the two of you sat by the fire, sharing stories and dreams, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment. Despite the shadows that loomed over your lives, there was a sense of hope, a belief that love could flourish even in the most unexpected of places.

Tag-list:

@cmleitora @anne1444444@halover13@buendiabebeta@buttfug213@annie115 @glai1023-blog  @phantomxoxo@barcelonaloverf1life@abs0lute1yn0t@andjelaiscool

[the-auguer]

no guts

just a little something that’s been in the crockpot of my mind for, oh, a year. i’m purging the dreaded WIPs of my notes app and figured I finally found the direction I wanted to go with this one. this is inspired by @fickleminder’s “no hope, no love, no glory” which you should definitely read. basically, what would happen if MC fell out of favor with Mammon

———————————————

“And— and ya shoulda seen the server’s face when Beel kept goin’ with the— hey. Hey? Ya listenin’ over there?”

Your eyes had gone cloudy. They usually do around halfway into any story, but Mammon was determined to make you laugh this time. This was a story tried and tested to make even the grumpiest demons laugh and he misses your laugh like he’s never missed anything else. There’s an ache where your presence used to be that nothing else can fill. Because he can be leaning over your bedside, fussing over your pillows, scooting his chair up until his knees knock against the bed frame and it won’t matter. You’re present and you’re breathing and he’s close to you, but you’re not there. Not there. 

Your eyes drift back down to his face, focusing back in, just a little. It’s enough for Mammon to pick back up his story, watching your attention extra carefully now because this is the punchline of the story and you can’t miss it or he’ll never hear you laugh and the void will keep aching because he’s greedy and grasping but there’s nothing to have anymore, nothing to grasp— except there will be because Mammon will make it. He’ll create something to hold onto, something he’ll horde all to himself in the hole in his chest. He’ll create it. 

“And it was a mess, and the server said, he said—“

“I was a server,” you croak and Mammon is instantly snapping his mouth shut. His teeth clink together uncomfortably but Mammon ignores it, nodding his head rapidly, eager to egg you on. You talk so little. Your voice sounds a bit rough, should he grab you a glass of water? But no, he has to pay attention, he’ll get you that glass in a minute. He’ll remember. 

Your eyes list to the side and Mammon swerves his head so you’re still making eye contact with him. 

“There was… the company went bankrupt so I had to find another job.” You say. Your fingers inch across your blankets, tapping against the mattress just slightly. Like you’re about to start gesticulating when you speak. They don’t go very far. “It was around— no, it was near my… my house. Apartment. The restaurant was near my apartment… maybe two, three miles away. I’d walk there everyday.”

Mammon leans further in, hanging off your every word. What little he knows about your life outside your time in the Devildom hurts him. Pains him like nothing else. That you had a life, that you had experiences, that you lived your human lifespan and Mammon only gets the tail end of it when he wanted the all of it. But that’s his own fault, isn’t it? No use in being greedy with something you gave up. Mammon will leave that to Levi. He’d prefer to be greedy with the time you have left in his life than envious of the time you spent without him. 

“I mostly… I mostly handled the cashdrawer. The customers would— they never tipped when I was the server.” Your eyes move to him and there’s the clarity Mammon’s been aching for. The slightest bit of sharpness in your eyes. It makes his heart beat a little faster, even after all this time. “And I always wasted the— the ingredients when I cooked. So I manned the register.”

You huff out a breath and Mammon’s heart near leapt out of his throat. You laughed. You laughed you laughed you laughed you laughed. You laughed and he was here to see it. 

“Should— I should have known,” you mumble and Mammon strains himself to hear everything you say. “I never did anything right. It was a couple dollars at first. Every few nights. But then I was losing ten. Twenty. Thirty. Every night.” Your brows furrow as you recall. “And they said— said I was stealing.”

Your eyes turn to him and they bore into him with… something. Not intensity. Not sadness. But some kind of weight Mammon can’t place. Every nerve is prickling. His chest hurts. 

“I wasn’t.” You whisper, like it’s a confession. “But the— and then when I was moved to cleaning, when it stopped going missing. And then I spilled— I was fired. From being a server.”

Your eyes slide away from him and you look down at your hands, still and wrinkled on the blankets. 

“Never did anything right,” you mutter.

“That’s not true!” Mammon bursts out heatedly, making you startle a little. He lowers his voice immediately. “That’s not true. Ya— ya did everythin’ right. Ya did.” 

You slowly sink back against the pillows, loosing whatever wind you had, the firmness of your posture and eyes fading away. You make a ‘hmmph’ sound of mild derision and say nothing else. 

Mammon’s hands hover over one of yours. There’s a sick, tight feeling in his throat and he just wants to explain that you weren’t a screw up or a failure or whatever else you might think. They were the failures, the colossal fuck ups. Mammon most of all. 

If you were having trouble at your job, Mammon should have been there. Your first man, your protector, should have helped you prove your innocence and helped you find the missing cash. Mammon’s always had a nose for money, and it would have been easy for him to give you some of his—

Some of his affinity for it. 

“No. No no no no no no no no no no.” Mammon hands cover your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Ya— did you have trouble? Did— did— ya said your company went bankrupt? Money went missing? What other stuff happened? Hey, hey. Focus on me, please? What else happened? Please?”

Your eyes do move to him, annoyance in the slight furrow of your brow. But you don’t say anything. 

“No, please? Just— ya don’t gotta tell me all of it, promise. Just a little.”

“Every company,” you mutter, resentful. Mammon doesn’t know if you’re resentful of him or what you’re talking about. He doesn’t want to know. 

“Every company what,” Mammon snaps, impatient. His heart is thudding so fast. His hands are drained of color around the knuckles and shaking over your wrinkled one. “They what?”

“Went bankrupt. Or I got laid off. Every company I worked for.” You shake your head, eyes trained on the ceiling but looking off somewhere unknowable. “Never did anything right.”

Mammon’s hands fall away from their vice grip on yours. They find a new home over his mouth, where he clamps his fingers to his jaw as he fights wave after wave of nausea. 

Fuck. Fuck!

“I didn’t…” he gasps. “It— I didn’t do it,” he tells you desperately. “It wasn’t me! Or I— I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know!”

You look at him again. And it… it’s awful. Mammon can spend hours by your bed, praying for you to look at him, hoarding every moment you acknowledge him. But this? Your empty eyes that somehow pin him to his chair? They make him want to run. Shrivel up and disappear. Worse than when Lucifer gets the wrinkle in the middle of his forehead that means he’s really upset and Mammon has fucking done it this time. 

“Okay,” you say, befuddled and… and nothing else. Nothing at all.

Mammon puts his head in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs. You once told him his elbows were bony. Laughed right in his face when he got all puffed up and mad about it. He feels it now, the aching pressure that presses his legs into the fake leather cushion of the stiff, uncomfortable chair he sits in. 

He would give every Grimm— no, every bit of gold, every shiny piece, every glimmer in his collection for you to call him bony again. 

“I didn’t know,” he says again. To you. To the open air of the stupid, shitty human nursing home. To his brothers— fuck how is he going to tell them? How is he supposed to… fuck. 

You don’t answer. And for once, Mammon’s grateful for it. 

[letmereedusyou]

i’m not yours - part 8

summary: Daryl and you are (were?) friends. He dated Leah. You told him you loved him and things fell apart. Will it ever go back to normal?

words: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of abuse, injuries

A/N: Good day, everyone! I've been literally working on this for a couple of days, editing and adding shit all the time. My partner has helped me with it, he's such a gem <3 I hope you enjoy it!

I would also like to thank everyone who has followed me and liked my shit, it is much appreciated! With your help, I somehow got to 68 followers and over 600 likes which is incredible! Thank you, muffins! <3

Read the previous part here!

Part 9

A few days later

Ribs hurting, body throbbing. Every single muscle screams for help with each move you make. Getting up from bed was a challenge enough, but taking a shower was even worse. You could barely move your limbs around, not to mention bending down or even sitting. The mirror image you see in the morning is somewhat depressing. Standing in front of it, in your black underwear, you assessed the damage with a pained gaze. The cuts and bruises were almost too much to look at. Their shades of purples, pinks, and reds were sticking out like a sore thumb in the morning light sifting through the window. They weren't only covering your body, but also stretching from ear to cheek on one side, with a big fat lip as a cherry on top. You feel a sharp pain in your side when you breathe in —a telltale sign of a few broken ribs.

That evening walk last night wasn't a good idea after all, you thought to yourself.

Moving at a snail's pace, you put on trousers and a grey hoodie, wincing in pain every now and then. Drawing a hood up, you cover most of your face. You weren’t trying to get any attention drawn to you, oh no. Leaving the house, you head towards the mess hall to eat your breakfast. Your hands were in your pockets. All the way down the street, you looked at your slow feet moving on the ground. You could hear people whispering about you. It was clear that somehow they already knew about your injuries. Maybe someone caught a glimpse when you were coming home last night, stumbling through the street. Or maybe you just weren't as good at hiding it as you thought you were.

Out of the blue, you feel a strong hand on your shoulder. You turn around with your fists up, almost hitting the person in the face before you realise that it was Gabriel - the community priest. You swallow hard, and you quickly put your fists down, packing them back into your pockets.

"Y/N, what happened?" He asks, a worried look on his face as he steps a bit closer to look at your face. As a respectful person that he is, he doesn’t touch you or move too close. He just points at your face, his eyes darting to the bruising and cut lip.

"Nothing," you mumble.

"That nothing sure looks like something," he retorted, examining you.

"I am fine, father," you say, stepping away from him and clearing your throat. "But may I suggest praying for all the wicked tonight."

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful, and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," Gabriel quotes a Bible to you and smiles a little.

"It's not my sins we have to worry about, father."

You say, turning around and leaving him standing there, visibly confused. You walk all the way down the street, turning onto a gravel path that winds a little to the left, and you get to the mess hall. By mess hall, you meant the biggest building in Alexandria where some tables and chairs were put down, alongside a modest buffet so people could get their food before work. There usually wasn't a lot to choose from, but no one complained - food was a blessing these days, no matter how bad or good it tasted.

Getting a clean, but worn-out white plate, you put some scrambled eggs on it, a rare sight in the zombie world. You guess someone found some powdered eggs somewhere during the supply run. You don't complain and take some onto your plate, heading to sit at one of the empty tables.

Your jaw hurts as you slowly eat your modest, bland breakfast. The only thing you could eat, really. Soft enough so there's not much chewing involved. You dart your eyes up carefully to look around, and you spot Daryl’s crossbow, poking above the bustling crowd. He barely glances at you across the dining hall, and you know he probably is here to grab his food pack quickly before heading out on a supply run. It was busy anyway, so you weren't surprised he would not see you. You were just another face in the crowd. You didn’t expect him to pay much attention to you. Especially after your past arguments. And his own relationship explosion a few days ago. You resort to going back to your own plate.

All the hope of people not noticing you or your injuries dwindles when you overhear some hushed voices from the table next to the open buffet counter.

"You see her face?"

"Yeah, looks awful."

"Wonder who fucked that up."

"I’d hate to see the other guy."

You try not to react to the whispers and cover up more with your hoodie. You keep on eating, blocking out the noise as much as you can. You usually didn't care about people talking about you. You learned that it didn't matter. But somehow, having been beaten up and having clearly visible injuries made you uncomfortable and anxious when people stared and talked about it.

Lost in your thoughts, you get brought back to reality with a can of soda clash and hiss against the floor from next to the buffet counter. Startled by the noise, your eyes shoot up to look in the direction.

Your eyes meet Daryl's in the crowd. He is looking at you; his eyebrows fly up before he scowls. Horror and concern quickly flash across his face. You look back down to the plate, hoping he doesn’t react, pulling your hood instinctively to hide more. You can hear Daryl's loud grumble even from the place you were sitting, and as you peep around your hood, he's already moving quickly, slipping past everyone. You start to dissociate, and that built-up anxiety starts to blister and pop inside you.

Please don’t...

Please, don’t make a scene...

Maybe he isn’t coming over.

You are broken out of your mind by his hand slamming on the table next to your tray. Daryl’s eyes flashed across your face. Anger, no… rage, completely enveloped his eyes.

“Who did this to you?!” His growl resounded through the mess hall, and you almost flinched at how aggressive that sounded.

„Daryl, please…”

„Do not ‚Daryl, please’ me!” You were sure that if eyes could kill, his would leave you on the floor with two X's instead of eyes.

„I don’t know. It was dark. I didn’t see,” you try to explain. „Please, stop making a scene. I really don’t need any more eyes on me.”

Daryl looks around cautiously. A lot of people were paying attention to you both now, and it made you uncomfortable. He saw that. He knew that. He pursed his lips a little and then gave out a loud exasperated sigh. Before you know it, you’re dragged by your arm towards the doors. His grip was strong and relentless—it almost made you wince in pain. Your head swung down to cover your embarrassment and redness in your cheeks.

Once you are outside and out of the view of all the people, Daryl pulls on your hood, taking it off fully. He stands there, looking at your bruise and your cut lip, as if he were assessing the damage, taking in the sight before him. He steps closer, taking your chin into his fingers, and tilts your head to the side.

„Who the fuck did you piss off lately?” He asks, his gaze falling onto your eyes. When he doesn’t get a response, he scoffs and lets go of your chin. „I need to know who did this.”

„I told you already. I don’t-,” you say, rolling your eyes.

„How bad is it?”

The question falls from his mouth before you even get to finish the sentence. You think about it for a minute, trying to figure out if you should tell him about your broken bones or if you should just leave it alone. Why would you tell him? What’s that going to do? It will just piss him off even more.

„It’s just my face,” you say, and you hear an immediate dry laugh rolling out of his lips.

„Liar,” he says.

You stare at each other for a minute or two. Your throat goes dry, and you bite your lip, making yourself curse and wince in pain. His icy blue eyes were way too much to handle for you. It felt like he could just blow up at any second if you kept being silent, so you muster up some courage. Taking a short breath, you get ready to speak, but Daryl stops you by putting his hand up in front of you.

„Your face just told me everything I needed to know,” he grumbles.

„What?” your voice sounds squeaky, and your eyes widen in surprise.

„You can’t breathe deeply. Your face grimaced when you tried to. You have broken ribs,” he says confidently, and you're stunned at how he reads you like a book without even trying hard. „You shouldn’t even be on your feet if this happened just last night.”

„How did you—?” you ask, but you already know the answer. Of course he’d know. He probably suffered it himself at the hand of his father. Maybe even worse than this.

„It looks fresh; the cut on your lip is not healed yet and still red, which means that it can’t be more than a day or two old.”

„You a doctor or summin’?” You mumble, and you pull your hood up again. You look at him, fiddling with the sleeve of your hoodie. His expression is almost unreadable, but you can see concern and worry on his face.

He rubs his temple before sighing.

„Let’s get you home.”

He takes your arm in his hand, more gently than when he pulled you up from the table but still hard enough that it made you silently wince at his touch. Though painful, his touch soothed you. Somehow, his concern made you feel like there was still a bit of compassion left in his heart for you. As he guided you towards your house, you didn’t protest. Truth be told, you are tired; you want to lie down or at least find a comfortable position to be in.

All the way down the street, Daryl stayed quiet. Didn’t ask questions, just walked beside you, his hand on your arm loosened a bit, so it didn’t hurt you. Once your house comes into view, your eyes dart around to see if any people are watching. They were. From everywhere. Of course… This wouldn’t go unnoticed—you and Daryl suddenly beside each other after months with no real contact. Plus, the hood on your head probably didn’t help.

Daryl walks into your house, drags you inside, and slams the doors behind him. You jump a little at the sound, but you keep your eyes glued to the ground.

„Look at me,” he says, his commanding tone making you bring your eyes up almost immediately.

He steps closer to you and once again pulls your hood off of your head with one swift motion. Daryl’s eyes glance all over your face, as if trying to read through the wounds about the people who did this to you. He takes a deep breath and huffs quietly before stepping away and motioning to the living room and the couch. You take a few steps and then lower yourself on the couch carefully, trying not to get any pain.

„Here,” Daryl says and puts one hand on your shoulder and the other wraps around your waist carefully to help you move down the couch into a half-seated, almost laid-down position on one of your sides. Your legs get put on the coffee table. „The best position to make sure you’re not hurting.”

„Thanks,” you mumble quietly.

„What do you need?” he asks. „Water? Pillows? Books?”

„All of the above.”

He huffs a half laugh and stands up, disappearing from view. You wondered why he’s helping you. He’s been absent from your life for months, and now he’s back, and at first glance, you’d say nothing had happened between you two. But you knew it wasn’t the truth. You argued. Badly. You couldn’t just go back to normal that easily, could you? Your mind also itched to ask about the fight he had with Leah. You wanted to ask if it was about you or if you just dreamt the entire thing, but you bit your tongue.

Daryl shows up with pillows from your bed, a book from the bedside table, and then goes to the kitchen to get some water. He brings you a glass and puts it on the armrest of the sofa.

„You should sleep in an upright position; it will be more comfortable,” he says, propping you with pillows on each side.

„You mean I sleep here?”

„Yeah,” he nods. „When my pops used to beat me up, breaking some ribs, I spent a lot of time in a position in which you are right now. It helped to ease the pain a bit.”

„Right,” you say and nod affirmatively. "How long?"

"As long as it takes for your ribs to feel better."

He stands there for a bit in complete silence, scanning your body like he had x-rays in his vision and could see the broken bones through your clothes. When he looks into your eyes, you could've sworn you saw some emotions that reminded you of the old times.

Care.

He quickly averts his gaze after less than a second and he nods once again, heading towards the front doors. He reaches for the door handle, but before he leaves, he speaks again.

„I am going to find out who did this. I promise they will get what they deserve.”

[27dragons]

Countdown to 2025: Dec 8

Coffeeshop AU / Marvel - Winteriron / Fur Coat

Thank god for the mid-morning lull. It gave Tony time to clean out the assorted blenders, mixing cups, spoons, mugs, and other paraphernalia that had built up during the morning rush. Usually they worked in a rotation that kept on top of it, but Clint had texted in sick that morning, and it had thrown off their whole rhythm.

The door jingled to announce a customer, and Tony called over his shoulder, “Be right with you!” He stacked the last of the mugs in the rack to dry and turned.

Tony’s favorite regular, Bucky, was leaning against the counter, face looking red and windblown. His jacket was balled up in his hands.

“I thought maybe you weren’t coming today,” Tony told him. “Why aren’t you wearing your coat? The wind chill is like fourteen out there!” He started a cup of espresso, operating the machine on muscle memory alone.

Bucky slid onto a barstool, putting his bundled-up jacket on the counter in front of him. “You got any breakfast sandwiches left over?”

Tony glanced over at the pastry case. “Yeah, there’s a couple left, though I’m going to have to reheat them in the microwave. You oversleep or something?” Bucky didn’t usually order breakfast.

“Egg an’ bacon, if you got it,” Bucky said. “Don’t need to heat it up, just throw it on a plate.”

“Uh. Sure, I guess.” Tony got a plate and reached for the tongs. “You okay?” he asked. “You’re being a little weird.”

“Yeah, sorry, I just, uh.” Bucky looked around the shop like a spy checking for a tail, then carefully unfolded the top few folds of his jacket, and a head popped out.

Tony started, then leaned closer. Wrapped up in Bucky’s coat was a kitten, small enough to curl up in the palm of Tony’s hand. It had white fur that was filthy and matted, and huge blue eyes. It gave Tony a suspicious look, then opened its mouth wide and let out a squeak that was barely even audible.

“Oh my god,” Tony breathed, “it’s so tiny. I can’t stand it.”

“Found ‘im half frozen to death in the trash,” Bucky explained. “Someone had dumped him, I guess. I couldn’t just leave him, could I?”

“Of course not,” Tony agreed. He reached in with a finger to try to pet the kitten’s head, and got bitten for his trouble. “Ow! Those teeth don’t look like much but they’re sharp as fuck.”

Bucky grimaced. “Sorry. He’s scared and at least half-feral. An’ I know pets ain’t allowed in here, but--”

“Yeah, we should get him out of here.” Tony pulled off his apron and threw it onto a hook, then ducked into the staff room for his own coat. “C’mon.”

“What?”

“We’re taking him to my place,” Tony said. He hung a “Closed - Back Soon!” sign on the door, then beckoned impatiently at Bucky, who was still sitting on the stool, looking confused. “He can’t stay here,” Tony repeated, “and my place is close by. Because unlike your friend there, you don’t have a fur coat. Let’s go. My neighbor has a cat; she can probably loan us a few drops of cat-safe shampoo and a tin of food. You can hang out while he dries off and you both warm up, watch a movie or something, and I’ll be back when my shift ends, right after lunch. And then we’ll figure out what to do with him.”

Bucky kept staring for a long moment, but then shook himself and stood up, his jacket and the kitten cradled in his arm. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Yeah, that sounds great. And maybe, uh. Maybe I can take you to lunch or something, to say thanks?”

Tony grinned. “Sounds great, hot stuff. Let’s go.”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

Title: cruel summer | chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s note: I’m playing fast and loose with ages and timelines here. Joel is 38, reader is 23, and Sarah is 5. No mushroom apocalypse here, y’all.

Additional tags/warnings: explicit sexual content, age gap (15 years), reader is 23 and Joel is 38, he’s a lil guilty about it anyways, pet names, dirty talk, lack of aftercare, oral (f receiving), fingering, begging, angst, drying humping. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

You hear the heavy footsteps of your dad and the contractor coming up the steps to the front door. You turn from the stove, spatula in hand just as your dad comes into view with a man you’ve never seen before.

He’s tall and broad, shoulders stretching the worn flannel he’s wearing to what must be near its breaking point. He’s got a strong nose and sharp jaw highlighted by his tan skin. His hair is brown that’s streaked with gray, messy curls sticking up in all directions.

Woah, you think. Your eyes meet warm brown ones that make your knees feel a little unsteady.

Your dad gives the man your name followed by, “My daughter. She’s home for the summer while she studies for the MCAT. I hope that’s not a problem that she’ll be here?”

“Not a problem for me. Noise might bother you, though, if you’re tryin’ to study,” the man says, deep voice making your mouth go a little dry. He holds a hand out to you. “I’m Joel, by the way. I’m doin’ the remodel on your parent’s room.”

That’s right. Your dad had mentioned that your mom had finally broken him down and made him get a contractor out to update their master bath. They scheduled it while they’re away on a six week cruise, leaving you to house sit while you studied for your exam.

“It won’t bother me,” you reply, shaking his hand. They’re calloused and warm and just the brief contact is enough to have you wondering what they would feel like trailing over other parts of your body. “I’ve got noise canceling headphones.”

He smiles, but it’s short lived. He sniffs the air, brows pinching together. “Is something burning?”

“Shit! My eggs!” You turn back to the stove and shut the burner off, moving the pan off the heat and trying to scrape your now burnt scrambled eggs from the surface.

“Come on, Joel, let me show you upstairs.”

________

Joel returns to the house a few times that week to take measurements and talk materials with your mom. Each time you’re there in the kitchen, books spread around you at the dining table and your head bobbing to music he can’t hear.

He can’t help the way his eyes linger when he comes inside, stomping his work boots against the mat inside the doorway as a courtesy and, if he’s honest with himself, to get your attention. And every time you glance up and smile at him, bright and beautiful.

As soon as he’s back upstairs and remembers he has a job to do, he berates himself for the thoughts he has. He has no goddamn right to be looking at a client’s daughter, much less one as young as you.

His presence in the house is sparing over the first couple weeks of the job, mostly just dropping by for measurements and to get an idea of a plan for demo day. He’s got orders in on tile placed, fixtures picked out, paint purchased. Everything’s in place to get started next week.

Satisfied, he heads downstairs to leave. He both hopes you’re in the kitchen and prays you’re not, if only to ease his guilty conscience.

But there you are, bent over in front of the fridge in shorts that hug your ass a bit too well. You straighten up with a can of beer in your hand, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“You even old enough to drink that?” Joel can’t help but ask, lingering in the doorway.

“I bought it. Why, you wanna see my ID? You moonlight as a cop or somethin’?” You roll your eyes.

Brat, Joel thinks, rolling his lips together. He turns to leave, he’s made enough of a fool of himself for one day.

“I’m twenty-three, in case you were wondering!” You call out as the door shuts behind him.

Fuck.

________

Joel’s been upstairs since early this morning, smashing things with a sledge hammer, prying things with a crowbar, and all sorts of other destruction that filters through your headphones.

It’s almost noon when you decide to give up and give into the temptation to go see what the man is doing. You head upstairs, stepping carefully into your parents room. There’s plastic tarp leading from the door of the bedroom to the door of the bathroom that crinkles beneath your feet as you move further inside.

You peek beyond the doorway of the bathroom and clutch the frame almost painfully when you catch a glimpse of a rather sweaty Joel, white t-shirt sticking to his chest and back as he wiggles a crowbar between the wall and vanity, leveraging his body weight against it to get the fixture to detach from the wall.

He repeats the process a few more times until the vanity is completely removed. He tosses the crowbar to the side and wipes the back of his hand across his dusty forehead. You clear your throat, his eyes shooting to the mirror to meet yours.

“Hey, uh. Hi. I’m about to make something for lunch…did you want anything?” You ask. His chest moves rapidly with his labored breathing.

“Sure,” he finally says.

_______

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be sitting at the kitchen table, watching you move around the kitchen like a picture of domesticity as you make two ham and turkey sandwiches for lunch.

You set the plate in front of him, along with a cold can of Coke, before sitting across from him with your own matching meal. He takes a bite, humming in satisfaction.

“Thank you,” he says when he’s swallowed. You nod, picking up your own sandwich and digging in.

The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes. Joel lets his eyes wander over you while you’re focused on your food. You’ve got a University of Texas tank top on, white with an orange Longhorn stretched across your chest, and another pair of shorts, giving him an eyeful of your long, smooth legs.

Tearing his eyes from you, his gaze lands on the stack of books on the table. “So, the MCAT. Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Not to brag, but I did finish organic chemistry without crying,” you reply, lips tilted in a smug grin. “I’m taking it at the end of August, before senior year starts. Dad said I didn’t have to get a summer job if I moved home and saved him some rent money.”

“What kind of doctor are you lookin’ to become?”

“Pediatrician. I love kids.”

Joel’s heart rate kicks up as he thinks about you chasing a toddler around a manicured lawn surrounded by a white picket fence. Or in the kitchen with a baby on your hip.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Joel?” You ask, breaking through his mental flagellation.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you have any kids,” you repeat.

He can feel his face go soft. “Yeah, Sarah. She just turned five. She starts kindergarten at the end of the summer.”

“How sweet,” you say. “I bet you and your wife are excited about that.”

“There’s, uh…there’s no wife,” Joel replies, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He stands, taking this empty plate to the dishwasher. “I better get back to work.”

Joel feels the weight of your stare on his back as he heads upstairs.

________

It goes on like that for two weeks. Joel gets to the house early and you study at the kitchen table until lunch time, when you ask him if he wants anything to eat. He should say no. It’s not your job to feed him, he’s got a stash of granola bars that’ll do just fine.

But each time he sees your hopeful doe eyed expression, his resolve crumbles to dust.

So he sits at the table each day, eating the sandwich you made him and drinking the Coke you gave him, learning tidbits of information about you.

Like how you weren’t sure about pursuing medicine at first, so you’re a bit behind schedule in taking your studies and will be graduating late. You changed your degree path when you volunteered in the pediatric oncology service at the medical school, sitting with young kids undergoing chemotherapy and making their days brighter. Your last roommate had a cat that always hid your keys, but you still liked him anyways. How your favorite color is yellow.

He tells you about Sarah. About how her mom left not long after she was born and how he’s gone at this parenting thing alone, save for the support of his brother, Tommy. He tells you about how only finished a semester in community college before dropping out to pursue construction. His favorite drink is whiskey, neat, and his favorite color is red.

One day, you’re not at the table when he lets himself into the house with the key your dad made for him. He finds he’s disappointed, not starting his day with your smile.

Upstairs, he’s working on laying the mud for the shower pan when he hears a splash from outside. He peeks out the window of the bedroom that overlooks the backyard.

His mouth goes dry and his pants get uncomfortably tight as he watches you lift yourself from the pool. You’ve got on the skimpiest red bikini he’s ever seen, the top barely containing your tits and doing nothing to hide the hard peaks of your nipples. You wring your hair out over your shoulder before moving to lay down on a nearby lounger. Your body glistens with drops of water that Joel wants to chase with his tongue.

You turn over on your stomach and Joel bites back a groan, greedily committing the view of your ass to memory. Jesus Christ, he’s never felt like a dirty old man more than in this moment.

He returns to his task and tries to chase his lustful thoughts away with manual labor.

_______

You can see him watching you from the window. Your sunglasses keep your own gaze hidden as you revel in the undivided attention of the man you’d been drooling over the last few weeks. You’d put on your tiniest bikini for the occasion, laying yourself out on the lounge like a meal you’d like him to dig into.

He stood there for a few minutes and you could practically hear his teeth cracking from how tense his jaw was. You could tell Joel really struggled with his attraction to you. He’s staring down the barrel of a fifteen year age gap, after all.

You didn’t see an issue with it. You’re an adult, he’s not abusing any sort of position of power, hell, all the man has done is check you out. He hasn’t even touched you. You don’t want him to feel guilty about being attracted to you because god knows you don’t feel guilty for wanting to climb him like a tree.

You don’t bother with a towel or changing when you go upstairs to tell Joel lunch is ready. When he sees you in the doorway he freezes, and you bite back at a laugh at the look of surprise on his face.

“Lunch is ready,” you tell him.

He clears his throat. “I uh…I think I’ll just eat a protein bar. Thank you, though.”

Your bottom lip pops out in a pout. “But I made pasta salad.”

“I got a lot to do,” he tries again. His jaw keeps clenching, his hand wrapping tightly around the tool he’s holding like he’s hoping it’ll anchor him in place.

“Please, Joel?”

That gets him. He sighs, standing with a groan.

“Fine.”

________

This was a bad idea. He should have held strong and insisted he’d eat by himself today.

You’re still in that goddamn bikini and he is fighting for his life sitting at the table as he watches you plate up pasta salad. Usually you would drink a Coke with lunch but today he’s surprised to see you pouring a glass of wine.

“It’s my day off from studying,” you say as you take your seat across from him, sipping from the glass. “I think I deserve a little treat. Don’t you?”

He has to be imagining the double meaning of your words. He gives you a tight nod in response before focusing all his energy in eating his pasta and avoiding your gaze.

“You okay, Joel?” you ask. Your sweet face is pinched in concern and goddamnit, Joel can’t take this.

“Fine,” he grunts. You give him another pout, the same one that broke his resolve upstairs.

You finish before him, sticking your bowl in the sink before picking up your wine glass from the table and refilling it. Instead of taking a seat, you lean your barely clothed hip against the table in front of him.

“You seem tense,” you comment. Joel swallows roughly, throat dry. You set your glass down and take a step closer.

“What are you doin’?” He asks, voice rough and low. He can barely breathe. This can’t possibly be happening.

You plant your hands on his shoulders for balance as you slide onto his lap, legs on either side of his waist and pussy dragging across his hard cock. He hisses, hands grabbing onto your waist before he can stop himself.

“You can’t be doin’ this,” he says, voice strained. “We can’t be doin’ this.”

“Why not? I see the way you look at me. I’ve been lookin’ the same way.”

“You’re young, baby. Too young for an old man like me.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his and fuck, he can feel your tight little nipples as your tits press against him. “‘M not too young,” you murmur, dipping your head to mouth at his neck. His fingers flex against your ribs. “You’re not doin’ anything wrong, Joel.”

His head drops back as you keep pressing sweet little kisses to the stubbled skin. His hips flex beneath you and you gasp, arms tightening around him.

Joel is so fucked. So, so fucked. Has been from the moment he stepped into this goddamn house and saw you sitting at this very table.

Maybe…maybe just one time. One time should be enough, get it out of your systems, cut through the tension and move on.

You’re whimpering against his neck, squirming over his lap as his hands drag up your waist until his fingers find the edge of one of the pathetic triangles covering your breasts. He can feel your breath hitch as he pulls it to the side, exposing your tight little nipple to the cold air.

“God, baby,” he groans, dipping his head forward to wrap his lips around the little bud. You moan so loud and wanton as he licks you that he knows he’s fucking done for.

He digs his fingers into your still damp hair, tugging your head back so that he can finally drag your mouth to his. You taste like wine and sunshine and he’s never been much of a wine guy, but from your tongue he’ll taste anything.

You open up to him so sweetly, your hands clutching his shoulders and your hips moving against his painfully hard cock as he devours you, dragging his own hands over all that exposed skin like it’ll disappear if he doesn’t touch you everywhere at least once.

It’s still not nearly enough.

He stands and you squeak in surprise as he sits you on the edge of the table. “Holy shit,” you mutter. He glances at your face to make sure you’re okay.

Your hair is messy from his hands and lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and dark as you stare back at him. Your top is half off, and Joel can’t help but reach out and tug the other cup down to expose your other breast.

“Pretty as a goddamn picture, darlin’,” he murmurs. He presses a hand to your chest, urging you to lie back.

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask. He huffs a laugh.

“Don’t be a brat, fishin’ for compliments,” he admonishes. He plucks at the strings holding those little bottoms in place, the bows falling loose so that he can push the material aside. “Look at this pretty fuckin’ pussy. You’re drenched, baby.”

“Been like this every day,” you reply, voice all breathy as you squirm beneath his rapt attention.

“That right?” He asks, dragging his thumb through your wet folds. You moan, hips jumping from the table. He kneels, placing one arm around over your hips as he presses your legs apart with his free hand, spreading you for him.

You’re breathing so fast he’s almost worried you might pass out. “Shhh, pretty thing, let me take care of you.”

He licks a broad stripe over your core, his tongue swirling around your aching clit before dipping back down to your entrance. You fight against his hold, hips trying in vain to chase his mouth.

“Oh, god,” you cry out. Your hands find their way to his head, fingers scratching against his scalp as he feasts on your cunt. “Joel, more, please!”

He keeps his arm tight against you and uses his other hand to slip one finger into your wet heat, groaning at how tight you are. His tongue focuses on your clit while he slowly strokes his finger in and out, adding a second then a third when you start babbling about more more more.

“Fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg. He shakes his head against your cunt, the scrape of his beard against your sensitive flesh making you scream. “Please!”

He stands, continuing to stroke his fingers inside you as he uses his thumb on your clit to replace his tongue. “I don’t have a condom with me.”

“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, please, Joel, I need your cock so bad,” you plead. Joel groans. He’s already crossed a line but he can’t go there. He knows damn well that if he feels you clenching around him with nothing between your bodies, screaming his name as he pounds inside of you, he won’t ever leave.

“No, sweetheart, you’re going to come on my hand and my mouth or you’re not going to come at all,” he snaps, hand moving faster, curling against your front wall.

_______

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes as Joel continues to drive you higher and higher toward release, your muscles tightening painfully as his fingers curl inside you and his thumb circles your clit.

You don’t know what you expected from all this, but Joel Miller dirty talking and finger fucking you on your kitchen table was not on your deduction bingo card. He’s better than anything your brain has conjured up thus far and you just know this one time isn’t going to be enough to sate you, especially since he keeps calling you “good girl” and “darlin’” and “sweetheart” in his rough southern accent.

You want him to fuck you so bad, you’re desperate for it. But he’s staunchly refusing to cross that line despite the hundreds that have been crossed already.

You try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting this to end, but it crashes over you anyways, leaving you breathless and sobbing his name as his hand slows its pace.

Joel’s fingers slip from your body and he leans forward, pressing them to your lips. You open your mouth, licking and sucking at his offering.

“Goddamnit,” he groans. “That was gorgeous.”

You sit up, supporting yourself on shaky arms. He steps back, but you hook a leg around his waist to stop him.

“Wait, let me—“

“No, baby, I’m good,” he says, cutting you off and dodging your hands. “I gotta get back to work.”

You can feel your high leave you in an instant. “Oh…okay.”

“Thank you for…lunch,” he says awkwardly. “I’ll be upstairs. If you need me.”

You don’t say anything as he turns to leave.

————

Upstairs in the bathroom, the one not being remodeled that he presumes is yours due to the messy countertop and fluffy yellow towels, Joel takes his cock from his pants and fists his length, grip almost painful as payment for his transgressions.

He cums with the thought of your eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, shouting his name as you clenched around his fingers. Your name is on his lips in the softest whisper he can manage as he cums, hard and hot, into a tissue.

He slumps against the wall, breathless. And while he may have come faster than a teenager, he doesn’t feel an ounce of relief.

Fuck.

[stargazedwinchester]

Womanhood | Dean

Summary: Dean helps to comfort you during your time of the month, without much experience about periods, he tries his best.

This is a little different to the actual request, I hope that’s okay! I’ve tried my best to replicate it though :) Let me know if you want Sam’s/Cas’s version too!

Based off of this request here, thanks!!

Word count: 1,134

Warnings: some swearing, not loads!

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

This morning, you woke up with the most unbearable pain, cramps that felt like your appendix had ruptured. You groan in pain, hoping it would subside soon. You clutch your belly and slowly get out of bed. Your alarm clock flashes 7:39am, and you let your head fall. “I love when I have no sleep,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a huff. Looking behind you, Dean isn’t passed out, snoring so loud it would’ve probably woke you up anyway. You hold your belly and walk out toward the kitchen.

“Morning,” you grumble, and Dean turns around from the stove. His face lit up seeing you at the doorframe, your hair a mess and in one of his spare Star Wars t-shirts and your own pyjama shorts. “Someone’s looking rough.” He jokes, noticing you’re not smiling back. “Aw honey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his smile quickly fading. The smell of breakfast hovers over you, like it’s mocking your morning sickness. “I think I’m coming on my period today…” you say, and Dean turns round to face you, letting the eggs and bacon sizzle quietly on the stove. Toast pings out of the toaster at the same time. “Are you sure you’ll be okay for today’s hunt? If you’re in pain, I’m sure Sammy and I will handle it fine.” He genuinely looks concerned, as if you haven’t had plenty of periods before. It hurt like hell, sure, but you could manage just fine. Along with the fact that periods can make you super emotional and/or angry, you were certain it could come in handy when killing a couple of monsters.

“I’ll be fine Dean, honestly. I want to come with you both.” You smile, leaning over the counter top. Dean nods in agreement. “It’s always fun having you around. If you change your mind just let us know, okay?” He shoots you a quick grin before turning back to the stove, plating up your breakfast. “Where’s Sam?” You question, usually he’s already by the table reading his favourite book or getting ready to go out for his morning jog. “I think he went for a shower, I’m not sure.” Dean spins round and passes you a plate with 2 slices of toast, egg, bacon and hash browns. “Wow, this looks really good, Dean. Thank you.” You smile warmly at him, and he returns the gesture.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Your rapid breathing causes you to hunch over and rest your hands on your thighs, you take a deep breath. “God damn…” you say, looking up at Sam, who’s right in front of you. “What a kill!” You chuckle to yourself, wiping your hair out of your face. You stand up, giving Sam a high-five. “Good job, Y/N. It’s like you don’t need our help.”

“I know, right? I’m just that go-“ “Y/N! Watch out!” Sam cocks his gun and tries to shove you out of the way, a sudden loud bang shocks you as you feel something sharp pierce your skin abruptly. You fall over, Dean rushing to your side. “I’ll cover you, Dean, make sure she’s okay!” Sam quickly checks back at you, noticing blood is pouring out of our calf.

“Fuck. Y/N, are you okay? Does it hurt?” He panics, shuffling over to apply pressure on your leg. He rummages in his pocket for a handkerchief and immediately applies it to your wound, he rushes to whip his belt off and tie it tight enough around your leg to hopefully stop the bleeding. You can practically see the fear in his eyes, and you laugh quietly.

“What’s so funny, huh? Almost dying?” His hands shake, trying to keep the pressure on your leg at all times.

“I’m not gonna die, Dean. It’s just a gunshot. Stop worrying,”

You place your hand on his, and he gazes at you with so much worry. His gorgeous hunter green eyes comfort you, even though he’s feeling the complete opposite. You pull your hand up to his face and caress his cheek, he finally shows some sign of calming down. It’s like his whole body relaxes by just your touch. “I’ve honestly felt worse.” You joke, slowly moving your body to sit up. You wince, feeling cramp in both of your abdomen and your leg. “Help me get up,” you say, and Dean pulls you up, anchoring you from underneath, your arm draped behind his back. “Let’s get you home.” He says, catching his eye on Sam, making his way back inside.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

It had been a few hours since you arrived back at the bunker, you lay across the sofa, clasping your belly as the cramps still hadn't subsided. Your leg, however, had been patched up neatly by Sam, and were given some painkillers for it. It didn't seem to work that well.

"How're you feeling?" Dean pats your foot, walking past the sofa to perch himself on the very little space left on the armrest. "I feel like I've been shot in two different areas," You try to joke, but it only makes Dean glare at you, waiting for a real answer.

"Could you get me some period pads, or tampons, please? Either work," You state, trying to sit up. "Uh, yeah, I can do that. What... size?" Dean looks puzzled, which only makes you smile. "Regular, Dean. Get the ones with wings."

Dean stands up and gathers his thoughts. "Pads with wings. Tampons with wings. Got it. I think." He places his hands on his hips and looks to the ground, then to you. He smiles lovingly. "I'll be right back." He says, before grabbing his flannel and exiting the door.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

An hour or so had gone by, and you hadn't moved from the sofa. your cramps have worsened to the point of also giving you a headache. You hear the door open, then close. Dean's back from the store, and he's got a white carrier bag full of items. "I'm back," He chuckles, "Got you a few things." He walks up to the sofa, laying the bag on the coffee table next to you. "Oh, Dean, you didn't have to..." You trail, as he takes out chocolate, a small teddy bear with a t-shirt that reads 'Get Well Soon' with a small red heart underneath it. He had also bought you the pads that you had asked for, aspirin, fresh bandages for your leg and a small bunch of red roses.

Your smile gleamed as your eyes met his. "You really didn't have to." Your voice almost a whisper, and he moves closer to you. "I know, but I wanted to." He smiles, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

"Thank you." You say, reaching your hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him in for one more.

[multifandom-pleasures]

scourge x reader

A/N: trying to convince people into the scourge hype as my second fave behind shadow - he may only be in the comics, but god do I love his character 🙏

you had hated him. he was arrogant, violent, power-hungry, and never took no for an answer. he paraded himself around the city like he was the self-proclaimed king he was; crown atop his head and red lenses covering his eyes, a sharp-toothed smile adorning his face. chaos forbid someone look at him the wrong way, because with a snap of his fingers they would be taken care of, left battered and bruised where they last stood.

and not to mention the women. monogamy was a word of fairy tail to him, a new chick hanging off his arm, scourge showing them off like some tacky piece of jewelry. sometimes, he would even have two of them - and even on the same day. he’d gotten his fair share of backhands across the face, a smug smile on his face like he hadn’t done a thing wrong. he was king after all, he could have as many women as he’d like; couldn’t he?


but you weren’t prone to his charms, either. as much as you had despised him, cursed his being with every bit of your soul, he had found a way to weasel himself into your home. at first, it was for the usual hookups; he’d stumble to your door drunk and desperate, and you indulged in it. you got a good fuck out of it, and you would wake to him gone in the morning. it was a fair give and take. but then, after a couple of months, he’d begun to stick around. you would wake to his green spiked in your face, and you would shove him off your bed with a snark at him to get out already. he’d snag a a snack from your pantry and waltz his way out.

and then he stayed later. you gave up on kicking him out and let him lay in bed, getting a pot of coffee going. he’d shuffle his way into the kitchen at the smell of roasted coffee beans, rubbing at his eyes and mumbling something about staying in bed longer with him. you just shoved a mug of coffee into his hands, not caring if the scorching liquid splashed on him; and sent him to sit down. he would oblige, and you would give a simple breakfast of toast and eggs. he’d scarf it down, along with his piping hot coffee, and would leave with a wink and half-assed thanks for breakfast.

you don’t know when those days blended in with you waking up with him snuggled against the crook of your neck, his chest against your back and his arms locked around your waist. he didn’t even come by just for sex anymore; some days, sure, but the rest he would just make his way into your home; which you’d given him the key to so he would stop waking you at midnight; and he would join you in bed where you already slept. and you didn’t even mind. you never questioned him either, afraid that if you dared mention his new, odd schedule that he would pull back and avoid you altogether. you didn’t want that; not when you finally started to enjoy his company.

you woke one morning with scourge cradling you from behind. you didn’t make any movements yet, enjoying the sensation of his chest rising and falling against you as he slept, his breath fanning at the back of your neck. your hand slipped down to rest against scourge’s as it rested on your stomach, stroking your thumb against the back of it; his fur soft beneath the pad of your finger. he always took his gloves off before getting into bed with you.

you turned carefully in his grasp to look up at scourge’s sleeping form. the only time he ever looked peaceful was when he slept. his usual leering smirk nonexistent and instead parted in soft breaths, his furrowed brows relaxed and making him actually look youthful. he had eye bags, not so heavy as when you first met him, you noticed. and then ears, lightly twitching in his sleep, adorned with golden studs; one of his ears missing the tip. torn off in some fight years ago, you would assume.

you trailed down his form to his fuzzy pink chest, three faded yet still prominent scars torn across. he was always happy to brag about his scars, boast about his won battles and fights; except those three. when you questioned him he avoided it, waving you off that they were unimportant. that it was the same as any of his other stories. you didn’t push further.

“ like what yer seein’ dollface? “ you jerked up as he spoke, an unamused expression forming across your face as that smirk made its way across his lips, “ take a picture, yeah? lasts longer. “

“ shut up. “ you mumbled, shifting to sit up. his hand grasped onto your waist and tugged you back into him, which you didn’t fight against. you huffed as you fell back into the pillows and looked up at him as he instead moved to hover over you.

“ already so feisty so early in the mornin’? ain’t even said hi yet. “

“ hi. “ you replied boredly, and he flashed fangs as he grinned.

“ hey, dollface. “ he dipped down and pressed a kiss to your lips, which you eagerly leaned into. he’d learned to kiss you softer when once he’d gotten too excited and cut your lip open - he’d made it up to you with more kisses, tongue lapping at the blood and gentle murmurs of not meaning to be so rough.

you pulled back before he could get any thoughts of taking it further, pressing a hand against his chest and nudging him back. you looked up at him, expecting a more heated expression on his face - but you were surprised to see him simply admiring you. his eyes darted across your face, and then down your form, taking you in. it flustered you. you huffed and pressed your hand over his eyes, blocking his vision.

“ get up - I need coffee. “

“ hey, cmon, stay in bed this once? y’always get up too early. “ scourge complained, his arms caging you on the bed as he pouted. you snickered and uncovered his eyes.

“ if I stay in this bed any longer, I’m never getting up. “

“ ‘s kinda the point. “

“ you know what kind of person asks someone else to stay in bed like this? “

“ what. “

“ boyfriends. boyfriends ask their lovers to stay in bed to kiss and fuck and cuddle. “ you replied with a scoff, hoping that would be enough to startle him off you. but he didn’t budge.

“ boyfriend? “ he echoed, craning his head as he stared you down, not looking at all discouraged by your words like you’d hoped, “ ‘s that what ya see me as? “ you sputtered, feeling your face burn with a flush.

“ n-no! I’m just saying - hookups don’t ask for this kinda stuff, “ you averted your gaze, trying to keep from giving any kind of hint of your attraction to him. no way he would simply choose you. he loved his lifestyle.

when the silence lingered for a bit too long, you finally turned to face him, and immediately you were met with a kiss. you let out a small sound, startled by the gesture, but just as before you melted into it. your hands looped around his shoulders and you relished the gesture. scourge’s hand slid up to rest on your waist, his other hand still keeping him steadily over you, and as he pulled himself back you found yourself chasing after him. he smirked at your desperation.

“ all y’had to do was say so, y’know. “ he replied nonchalantly, “ it’s been - what - a year almost? y’think I keep my hookups round that long just cause they’re a good fuck? ‘s what my phone’s for, I don’t stick around. “ he dipped down to kiss your jaw, sighing, “ ‘m not gonna be great, I’ll tell ya that now. “

“ I know. “ you whispered, grasping onto his quills as he moved down to your neck.

“ might slip up and hurt ya. “

“ I know. “

“ why d’you want me anyways. y’know what kinda person i am - even i know ‘m shitty. “

“ I don’t know. “ you lifted his face to look down at him properly, “ I just.. know I like you. you’re different here than how you are out there. you don’t.. act. “ he hummed softly, pressing a few kisses against the palm of your hand, only serving to fluster your further.

“ y’sure you want me dollface? “ you nodded your head, and he gave you a toothy smile - softer than the usual ones, his eyes crinkling as he leaned in closer, “ then you’ve got me. just have some patience, alright? “

you nodded again, and captured his lips in another kiss. this time he was the one who was eager to reciprocate, tugging the blankets over the two of you once more. you both got what you had wanted in the end - you had gotten scourge to be solely yours, and scourge got you to stay in bed with him for the day.