#his arch was astoundingly good

[hazelelel]

Snape from that one scene in Deathly Hallows 2 having main character energy as he 100% thinks to himself "God fucking dammit, Dumbledore you tricky dead bastard."

[chvoswxtch]

It has been an expensive few weeks and despite being a very well educated scientist at a reputable institution, I make astoundingly little money. So I’d love to request a little action clip! I’m so taken with the idea of Frank just like casually stealing whatever money is lying around the place after he shoots up a mobsters joint and using it to help you with your bills 🤣

no bc why is living so expensive like where is the groupon for existing??

this one actually made me laugh bc I was thinking about in season 2 when he and amy go to that motel and he hands her that bloody wad of cash and she's like?? bitch what am I supposed to do with this??? and he's like???? pay for the motel dumbass

like he's so calm about it and truly does not give a fuck. he absolutely takes whatever money is lying around bc it's not like they're using it anymore 🤣 but ya know what, in this economy, vigilantism doesn't pay the bills (and neither does having a job apparently) so he's not wrong

blurb below the cut

the many saints of newark starring frank castle

The wad of cash that Frank pulled out and set on your dining table made your eyes widen. The faded green crumpled bills were speckled with what was undoubtedly blood. Staring up at Frank wide eyed, creases of confusion settled in your forehead.

“Where did you get this?”

“From someone that don’t need it no more.”

Frank shrugged off his jacket and walked over towards your kitchen, his heavy booted footsteps echoing on the worn wooden floor. You were still staring at him in incredulity. He’d just dropped what looked like a thousand dollars on your dining table with as much indifference as if he’d dropped a twenty dollar bill to cover take out for the two of you.

“Wha-, Frank, this is…what am I supposed to do with this?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, clearly perplexed by your question. Pursing his lips, he lightly scrunched up his nose and shrugged.

“Whatever you want. Get ahead on a few bills, buy some of that stuff that’s been sittin’ in your cart for weeks, save it, I don’t know. Your call.”

His casual behavior about the situation left you spiraling. You didn’t wanna know where this money had come from. You had an idea, but you didn’t need confirmation. 

“Frank…I can’t…shouldn’t we give this to the police?”

If he was perplexed before, he was full on confused now. He turned to face you fully, his expression twisted up like you’d just asked him the most ridiculous question.

“The hell would we do that for?”

“Well…because. It’s…I mean…isn’t it…like…”

“Sweetheart, it’s money. Money is money. Don’t matter where it came from or who had it. They ain’t got a use for it no more. Besides, better you have it and put it to good use than some crooked cop pocketin’ it, or it collectin’ dust in an evidence locker.”

Frank made a valid point. The logical part of your brain understood what he was saying. And it would definitely give you some breathing room, taking care of more than a few bills so that you could cut back a bit on how much you were working.

Sensing your confliction, Frank set the mug down on the counter and walked over towards you, lightly grasping your chin to get you to look at him.

“Look, only place that money is goin’ is in your bank account. Now either you can deposit it, or I’ll swipe your wallet and do it myself. But it ain’t goin’ nowhere else.”

You knew Frank wasn’t joking. And you knew you weren’t winning this argument. Letting out a quiet huff, you have him a pointed look.

“Yeah let me just stroll into my bank and hand them this bloody money. That won’t get me put on a watchlist.”

“For all they know the blood came from a papercut.”

Grabbing one of the bills and holding it up silently, as if to prove your point, you arched one of your brows. Frank glanced down at it, seeing the way crimson stained the faded green paper like confetti. Rolling his eyes, he swiped the bill and set it down on the table with the rest.

“For fucks sake, gimme your goddamn wallet.”

[serenescribe]

Day 5 of ficlet requests~

Do you like time travel shenanigans? I hope you do because uh oh! General Vanrouge is in the present!

What’s that? His friends child is here, at NRC? Weird. Baul has a HALF HUMAN GRANDCHILD? Weirder. There’s himself with a *human* who he’s speaking to so casually and kindly? UNACCEPTABLEEEEE

[✐] ficlet frenzy

As of a week ago, all NRC students have been barred from entering the woods behind campus. All except a select few, at least — namely a select number of students from Diasomnia, of which the group includes its housewarden, vice-housewarden, and a few others.

The reason for this? Well, it was astoundingly obvious to anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear with. A week ago, there had been quite the explosive commotion, a spell gone horribly wrong. And what had entailed but utter chaos, and the sight of a much-younger Lilia Vanrouge rampaging around campus grounds?

Any attempts to quell the man’s panic and rage fell utterly flat, his scathing words striking fear into the hearts of countless students — from the meek and introverted of Ignihyde, venturing out to survey the commotion, to the bold and brash of Savanaclaw, who’d actively picked a fight with what they perceived as an easy target.

That, in the words of the older Lilia Vanrouge, his ancient age now revealed to the students around him, was “a horrible, senseless idea.”

“Are you sure you’d like me to accompany you today, Father?” Silver cannot help but voice his concerns as he trails after Lilia, the two of them winding through campus grounds, making a beeline for the throng of woodland behind the school.

“Why do you say that, hm?”

His brows knit together. “It’s just… the General—” as he’d learnt to call him, a way to differentiate the two, “—does not seem fond of me in the slightest. Would it not be more prudent for Lord Malleus to follow, given how he is the only one he can tolerate?”

At that, his father merely laughs. “Well he’s going to have to get used to you someday, dear!”

There’s a fire going in the woods, contained by a thick circle of magic, constantly crackling and never growing nor dissipating. The figure seated near it glances up as the two of them approach, and Silver feels his throat dry at the sight of those cold eyes, the same crimson of his father yet lacking the warmth that has been there throughout all of Silver’s life. Not for the first time, he wonders what must have gone on in the past to warrant such callous coolness from his father’s younger self. To a similar extent, Silver wonders what must have occurred to mellow him out into the man he is today; together, they are like night and day.

“Good day, little me!” Lilia greets, beaming cheerily even as his younger self’s lips curl into a frown. Dumping the basket that has been swaying from his arm onto the ground, Silver’s father rests his hands on his hips, merry as ever as the General eyes the basket warily. “It’s merely a peace offering,” he explains, when still regarded with suspicion. Lilia arches an eyebrow. “Do I truly look like the kind of person to poison my younger self?”

“If you feel anything like I do towards you, you would.”

Silver grimaces, but Lilia only laughs. “Oh, you! I do forget how serious I acted back then…” Still, he gestures at the basket, at the cloth covering it. “Why not take a gander, hm? I guarantee you that you’re certain to enjoy what I’ve brought.”

Different as the General may be — cold and dismissive towards Silver, outright startled and disbelieving towards Sebek’s entire existence, constantly annoyed and frustrated by his older self, and only ever satiated by being around Malleus — there certainly are some things that remain the same. Silver recognises this well when the General slowly pulls off the cloth covering to reveal, to Silver’s utter horror, a heaping pile of rodents and lizards.

“See?” Lilia preens, smug and satisfied at the sight of his gobsmacked younger self. “I told you you’d enjoy it!”

Abruptly, Silver turns to shuffle away, to escape from this forested clearing where the General has made his home before he can get roped into this.

If there was anything else he wishes changed over hundreds of years… it would definitely have to be his father’s… acquired taste in what he considers food.

[sillywolffoxwrites]

5th of Flamerule, 1368 - Day 63, Hour 15 Part 3

---------------------------------------------------------------- The orc's eyes flitted back in pleasure, relaxing back into the loveseat he dominated. They opened and locked with mine

"I Greyfather, good to meet" Greyfather said in halting common

I'm Yuze I replied in Orcish

Grayfather's eyes lit up, and Larry stopped sucked to look up.

Grayfather switched to Orcish.

You speak Orcish! Where did you learn??

My master, she saw to my education, and considered Orcish as important to know as Dwarven or Elven.

A wise woman. Would you like to join your friend at my feet? If you make Grayfather feel good, he'll take care of you like a good father should

I got on my knees next to Larry

"Whatever you just said Yuze - Greyfather clearly likes you. He usually just waits for people to come to him, and rarely makes requests! He was inviting you to join right?" "He did, and promised to 'take care of us like a good father'."

Larry grinned and turned back to his meal, we shared it in earnest. Greyfathers extra large, rough hands caressed our shoulders while we ran our mouths over every inch of his groin, taking in his arousal scent. Larry particularly enjoyed tending to his undercarriage while I got the top.

Larry must have been going at him a while, because it wasn't long before Greyfather arched his back, furry chest and stomach tensing all of his muscles. He came while he was in my mouth, and I drank as much as I could, holding my breath, my eyes closed while I emitted muffled moans. Larry helped, kissing my neck and licking up Greyfather's seed as it ran out of my mouth.

As promised, Greyfather took care of us. He gathered the remaining club members, asked us to lay down on the bed while the group surrounded us.

"We say welcome to new friend" Greyfather gestured to me "And the man who brought friend to us. Larry always bring good friend."

The tiefling woman spoke next. "We like to send off our new friends with good memories, so we have a gift if we have your assent - let us all pleasure you. Let us bring you to the finish together."

I have never been tended to like this. A dozen mouths caressed my frame, fingers pulled at the sides of my mouth, hands fondled me, and after checking, Larry took his underwear, and used it to gag me. He then sat behind me, sitting over my hands so I couldn't move them, and began to jerk off. Cherry smiled at me coyly "We know what you want..." The other men in the room began to jerk off as well, crowding around my body, most with help from the hands and mouths of female partners, a couple getting off just from watching Greyfather, Larry and I. Greyfather took one of his finger, dipped it into a jar of oil, and approached my rear. I blinked at the size of his finger, taking in what I'd be taking in. It was more than I was used to, but not outside of my ability. Greyfather was astoundingly gentle, working what seemed would be a process into a gentle probing, and gave way to him inserting himself into me up to the knuckle. I was rock hard, twitching and thrashing, pumping my dick as fast as I could, the oil from the jar filling my nose with light scent of olives. One by one the men finished, each of their partners, helping them cover me with guiding hands. The un-aided men were last, two halfling men standing on either side of me, looking longingly at the Orc's finger sliding in and out of me. By the time they were done, I was dripping, covered in semen from head to toe. Greyfather had been working me the whole time, bringing me to the edge with a come hither motion of his finger, over and over and over. Finally, he pulled out. The others were sitting on couches and chairs, chatting and watching. How do you want to finish? Greyfather asked, his smile curling around his impressive tusks. I eyed them, their dulled tips, smoothed down from years of fighting to rounded ends. Fuck me with your tusk Now I had his attention You want me to... ...fuck me with your tusk. We re-positioned, Larry leaning back on pillows to watch as he pursued his own climax. Greyfather got on his knees next to the bed, tilted his head and... Larry's mouth dropped open From the back of the room came a woman's voice "Is he--?" I wailed a moan in response. He pushed into me carefully, his face part arousal, part concern. The outside curve of his horn pushed into the wall of pelvis, as I rode it, working together with my partner to slide up and down. After a few minutes I was surrounded by spectators again. And and and I loved all the eyes, I felt so good, I felt so desirable Greyfather tilted his head, twitched his neck, and threw me over the edge I had been teetering on. I came explosively, painting my chest and hair, getting Larry on his feet.

"Holy Helm!" I exclaimed, and fell back. Satisfied with the spectacle, I got several shoulder pats as the other members sat down again to chat, or moved to the bathroom to wash up. Greyfather pulled out of me gingerly, as I moaned and whimpered. He was hard again "Can watch?" Greyfather looked towards Larry "Sure." Larry breathed, melting into the pillow as he stroked himself. Greyfather tended to himself, and watched us with pleasure, as I began to lick my seed off Larry's feet (he giggled a lot), worked my mouth up his beautiful legs, and tongue bathed his balls. Larry shouted and finished over my head, getting Greyfather in the chest, right after which *he* finished, and got me in the back. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

[fandonnavyce]

As Part of Ghouls and Gangs 2024 Event, I've published My DPxDC Bang Fic: In Death's Sweet Embrace, A Hades and Persephone Tale.

It's 20K of Dead On Main goodness with guest appearances from Team Phantom and the Batfam and some non-traditional takes on the ABO Tropes and The Sentinel and Guide AU.

What's The Sentinel and Guide AU I hear you ask:

Tdlr: A/B/O but Esper/Psychic ✨

Read More For A Peek

Jason woke up surrounded in an unknown place of luxury, utterly alone, and feeling very weak. But when he checked his mental shields, he found them to be surprisingly strong and stable. The psychic smog was much thicker than he had fearfully anticipated. Frankly, they were in a far better state than they had any right to be, especially after a severe zone-out in an arctic wasteland in a Lazarus Pit adjacent magic dimension. Jason decided not to question his good fortune. He stumbled out of the bed and reached the door, twisting the handle that was bitingly cool to touch. The door swung open to a corridor with a crystal floor, a ceiling full of stars and swirling constellations, and parallel walls lined with endless rows of purple doors.

It was utterly deserted.

Lingering in the doorway, Jason looked up and down the corridor. It was eerily lit. The only source of light came from the refracted starlight scattering off the crystal floor. There was an enchanting hum haunting the air. Jason had to forcefully drag his senses from chasing after the mellifluous sounds. Crossing over the door’s threshold, Jason’s ninja stealth footsteps nonetheless echoed mischievously off the curious crystal floor. Unsteady and light-headed, Jason rested his right hand on the ice-cold walls for balance. His fingers trailed along the walls' ice masonry and exquisitely adorned door frames. Strained sentinel senses refrained from getting lost in fascination with the texture of what he touched. But the corridor was still shrouded in a dark night’s gloom.

Finally Jason came across a doorway that had light shining through the gap between the door and the floor. Jason tested the door handle. With a quiet whisper, it cracked open.

"Hello," Jason calls out. He received no answer. Pushing the door open further, he entered the room. It was a library. A glorious library. One brilliantly lit with ice crystal chandeliers and arching floor-to-ceiling windows displaying a dazzling arctic nightscape as the stunning backdrop to the rows upon rows of towering bookcases. Bookcases filled to the brim with leather bound, hardcover, paperbacks, scrolls and journals and more. Jason was in awe. Enchanted, he walked up to the nearest bookshelf.

The Count of Monte Cristo, Treasure Island, Les Miserables, Catch-22, Lord of The Rings 

Looking at the titles written on the books’ spines, Jason nodded to himself at the owner’s good taste even as he wondered at their organisation system. He skimmed over to a neighbouring bookshelf. This one glimmered gold in comparison to the calm, sophisticated blue the previous bookshelf exuded.

Computing and Technology Ethics: Through the Lens of Science Fiction looked like a non-fiction book exploring the aforementioned themes. Domina by Matthew Mccoulum on the other hand looked like a sci-fi speculative fiction novel about an Urban Fantasy City. These two books were lined on either side of Duulamon’s Book of The Dead - Revised Edition. 

“Hmm, interesting.” Craning his neck, Jason peered up at the higher bookshelves that were astoundingly out of reach. No human would be able to get them unaided. Jason searched nearby for a ladder of some kind. Instead he finds a little blobby creature, shyly peeking around the bookshelf, looking at him from several feet up in the air.

"Erm hi?" Jason felt a little foolish as he smiled sheepishly at the little floating creature. It was very adorable for some kind of Lazarus Pit creature. The creature disappears like a popped bubble. “The fuck?” Jason then watched in wonder as it slowly emerged back into view. Then, gliding through the air, it approached him. Hovering in front of his face, Jason finds the creature adorable in its squishiness and shy behaviour, despite it looking like an animated glop of Lazarus Water. Carefully, hesitantly Jason dared to reach out to pet it.

It purred. Delighted, Jason laughed as the blobby creature slipped and floated between his fingers before excitedly whooshing around his neck. It then happily settled on Jason’s head, nestling in his hair. Jason chuckled. Then raised an eyebrow at the entire litter of blobs popping out of the woodwork. 

Only a little while later, Jason was absorbed in reading his chosen book when the temperature dropped. Trepidation crept down Jason's spine. Abruptly nervous, the library's silence turned eerie. The library's light titled towards uncanny creepy.

"I se̶͚̓e̵̙͊ yȯ̵̟ụ̴͌ m̵̦͋ad̸̼̃ẽ̶̦ ̵͕̿yo̸͙͠ṷ̸́r̷͚̚se̷̦͊l̷f̸ ȓ̵͕i̷gh̸t̷ a̶͇͒t ̷͕̅h̷͈̆om̴̚ȩ̵̐."

Jason twisted round and looked up at the source of that ghastly sound. His breath caught. His heart skipped a beat. What Jason saw, he did not understand.

Stretched in terrifying kaleidoscopic planes It loomed above. The enormity of Their presence warped and twisted the surrounding light and shadows. The presence writhed with sleek, organic movements; silently screaming and darkly blinding. Jason blinked. In that blink and a flashbang of light, the Lovecraftian Nightmare coalesced into a humanoid figure. Two arms, two legs, and one head with twin supernovas as Lazarus green eyes. Sunbright white hair floated weightlessly in nonexistent water. Jason suppressed the instinct to look away.

The Being bonelessly swung their two legs over a balcony that Jason would have sworn hadn’t existed before. Then, with a suave disregard for gravity, It slowly sauntered down.

Link to AO3

Hey, watch out for a new fic for the @dpxdcbigbang written by the amazing @fandonnavyce and illustrated by me!!! It should be posted around 21:00 BST, but still will update the post once it’s on ao3 for y’all <3

Edit: The fic is out people 🫡🫡

Fic link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59510203

[once-upon-an-imagine]

I Bet My Life - Severus Snape

A/N: ahh xD so here it is! I have no idea how this happened but I really liked it! hope you guys too :) I have been in a very Snape mood lately so feel free to request him xD Professor!reader

Warnings: use of Sectusempra and mm mentions of sex? I guess, idk better safe than sorry

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn't mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I Bet My Life

I've told a million lies but now I tell a single truth There's you in everything I do

"Professor Black, what can I do for you?" Severus Snape said, looking up from the assignments he was grading, but only for a minute before he went back to his task.

"Don't 'Professor Black' me, Severus Snape!" you said, annoyed, making him look back up again. "Why did I have to hear from some third-year students that you are dueling Gilderoy Lockhart tomorrow at noon?"

"Because I am" he simply said.

"Why?"

"Because he wanted me to help him demonstrate different spells against the Dark Arts... obviously."

"Severus!"

"Don't raise your voice at me!" he said, getting up, towering over you.

To anybody else in this school, with the exception of a few of his colleagues, that would have been enough to intimidate them and make them drop the subject. But not you.You had known him for way too long. Plus, you grew up with Sirius and Regulus. And your parents were Walburga and Orion Black. You were their only daughter and had been placed in Ravenclaw. Needless to say, in their eyes, you were no better than Sirius. So, there were very few things that could intimidate this woman. Let alone, Severus Snape who had been your friend since you were in school and who had been your partner (officially) for the past year.

"Why are you doing this, really?"

"Why would you think I have an ulterior motive?"

"Oh, so you're helping him out of the kindness of your heart?" you said with a small chuckle. "Don't make me laugh, Sev. You even make me do something in return whenever I ask for a favor" you told him with a smirk.

"Who says I didn't ask Lockhart for something in return?"

"What did you ask him for?" you asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" he said in his same, usual tone, but you noticed him tensing up.

"What did you ask him in return for your help?"

"I asked him to stay away from you" he mumbled, but you heard him.

"You did what?"

"You heard me, Black" he glared at you and you glared back at him. He only used your last name when he was mad at you, no matter how many times you had told him you hated it.

"So you would rather duel Lockhart than admit to him that we are a couple?"

It was exhausting. Ever since he started teaching DADA this year, he had tried to get you to go out with him. He was becoming increasingly insisting with each passing day. He sometimes even did it in front of Severus, but he was astoundingly good at pretending he didn't care. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he wasn't pretending. You had wanted to let Lockhart know so many times, but you had agreed with Severus to keep your relationship private from the very beginning. Although you were positive that Albus and Minerva had a bet going on about when you were going to get together with the other professors.

"What goes on between you and I is nobody else's concern. We have talked about this" he said in his same monotone voice.

"It does if it helps me get rid of him!" you snapped back. "Do you have any idea how frustrating is to enter my class each time with a stupid note that has his photograph signed by him, every day? Have you not noticed how much I try to not sit next to him during every meal or appear to be busy so he won't come talk to me? Or do you simply not care-?"

"OF COURSE I CARE!" he yelled back, making you jump a little. "Do you think I don't notice how he looks at you? How he talks to you? How he talks about you?" he said, furious. "I do and it drives me insane!"

"Then why won't you just tell him instead of staging this whole duel-?" you stopped mid-sentence when you realized something. "Wait a minute" you said looking back at him. "What happens if Lockhart wins?"

"How dare you? You don't think I'll win?"

"Of course you'll win, Severus" you said, rolling your eyes. "But what if for some weird twist of fate he beats you? I doubt he'll agree to stay away from him if he won, would he?" you said, walking towards him and making him walk backwards.

If any student were to walk in, they would not believe that their sweet, kind, Charms professor, head of Ravenclaw, had such power over the dark, scary Potions master. He was terrified of you. Not that he'd ever show it, even to you, but you knew.

"It does not matter. I will defeat him" he said, calmly.

"Severus" you glared at him. "I am not going to ask you again" you threatened.

"The same thing" he muttered looking away.

"Excuse me?" you said even angrier than before, making him walk back until he hit his potions cabinet.

"I can explain-"

"No!" you snapped, raising your finger at him. "Are you meaning to tell me that you and Lockhart are dueling for me?"

"I didn't say that-"

"You said that if you win, he will stay away from me and you just said that if he wins... you have to stay away from me?"

"He is not going to win-"

"That is NOT the point, Severus!" you yelled at him. He had to admit, he had never seen you this furious. "How could you agree to this?" you whispered, your eyes filling up with angry tears. Severus felt his heart breaking. You never cried. He had seen you cry twice in his life. Once, when Regulus died. And the second time, when Sirius was sent to Azkaban. "Does our relationship really means so little to you?"

"No!" he said, quickly. "How could you think that-?" he said, trying to walk closer to you, but this time, you walked backwards.

"How could I not?" you said, your voice breaking and one tear falling down your cheek. "You chose to gamble me away like some disposable thing to you!"

"No! It is not like that! Love, listen to me-" he tried again but you placed your arms around yourself like a protective shield against him as more tears fell down.

"No" you said, stepping away. "Don't call me that" you said, knowing he rarely used pet names and he was doing it to wear you down. "You don't get to call me that" you glared at him before wiping off your tears. You then started hearing the ruckus outside and you knew it was time for his next lesson.

"Love-"

"Your next class is here" you said, composing yourself as some sixth-year students started walking inside and sitting at their desks. "I won't keep you any longer, Professor Snape" you said, making Severus' heart break.

You never called him that. Not even before you started dating. You had been friends for over a lifetime (sometimes more) and you loved teasing him since he said you were in a professional environment but you never cared. He watched you walk out the door and composed himself, before turning his wrath towards his students.

You walked out of his class and composed yourself before you made your way to your next lesson. You were too occupied with every thought floating in your mind, you accidentally bumped into two identical redheads.

"Professor Black" they said at the same time before they both hid whatever they were holding behind their backs. "Sorry, we didn't see you there" George said with a warm smile.

You could tell them apart. Not so much by their physical appearance but more by their personalities. If you were careful, you would be able to notice it.

"We were just on our way to Transfiguration" Fred said quickly. "Lovely seeing you, Professor" they both finished at the same time as they walked around and past you.

"Stop" you instructed and, even if you had your back to them, you knew they listened to your command. You slowly turned around and smiled when you saw you were right. "What are you two hiding?" you asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Us? Nothing, of course" they said at the same time with smiles so innocent, anyone that didn't know them, would think they were just as well behaved as their older brothers.

"Are you two placing bets about Snape and Lockhart's duel for tomorrow?"

Both of them sighed, looking at each other, impressed. "How do you always do that?"

"Let's just say, I have seen my fair share of... mischievous boys" you said, with a smirk. They had always reminded you of James and Sirius, especially the many times you had caught them in your times while being a Prefect.

"Are you going to tell on us?" George asked as they both pouted their big brown eyes at you.

"Not if you give me 5% of your winnings" you said, shrugging your shoulders.

"5%?" Fred asked outraged.

"Well, is either that or I would have to report you boys to Professor McGonagall and then... no winnings" you explained with a sweet smile.

"Fine" they both said defeated. "Would you like to place your bet?"

You let out a small sigh. You might as well have some fun with this. "Fine" you said taking out your money. "Put me down with fifteen galleons" you said, handing them to George, who had the jar of money.

"Fifteen galleons?" they said at the same time. Most likely nobody had bet as much. "On Lockhart?" Fred asked.

"Lockhart? No, on Snape, obviously" you said, rolling your eyes a little and they looked even more shocked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just... well, you're the only girl that has bet on Snape" George informed you.

"Yes, well my judgment is not clouded by Lockhart's ridiculous charms" you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Now... I believe you two were on your way to Transfiguration?"

"Of course" they said at the same time. "You look lovely today, Professor" Fred continued.

"As usual" George added.

"See you in class!"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You were pacing around back and forth in front of the Great Hall. It was almost time. You saw the second-year of all houses walking inside, talking about the duel that was about to take place as if it was the best thing that happened in this school. You could feel your heart beating so heavy, you were almost certain everyone could hear it.

"Professor Black?" you were snapped out of your thoughts by the voice of one of your students.

"Hermione, hello" you replied kindly.

"You came to see the duel?" Ron asked, excitedly.

"Well, I just want to make sure nobody's getting murdered" you muttered, but apparently the trio of friends heard you. "Oh, I'm only joking. I am certain Professors Snape and Lockhart are merely dueling for educational purposes" you said, smiling nervously at them.

"Who do you think it's going to win?" Harry asked you, curiously.

"Why don't we... move along?" you said, pushing them inside the Great Hall. "You should go take your places" you instructed them as they discussed which professor was going to win. "What are you two doing here?" you asked when you saw the Weasley twins close to the entrance. "This isn't your class! You know what? I don't even want to know" you said, before walking into the Great Hall.

It was set up to have a fair dueling match with all the tables lined up as one long stage. You spotted Severus at the end of the tables that were going to be used for said match. He caught a glimpse of you and made the man he was talking to turn to you as well.

"Darling, how wonderful!" Lockhart said, happily as he stepped onto the table. "You received my invitation to come and see what I do best" he said flirty, making you roll your eyes.

"It's Professor Black, as I have told you many times, Professor Lockhart" you said, firmly. "And I have come to make sure that neither of you two buffoons hurt yourselves, or a student for that matter" you said, walking between the crowd of students, taking your place.

"Why we would never" he assured you with his famous charming smile. "Now gather round!" he yelled, making all the students take their places. "Gather round. Can everybody see me?" he asked, walking up and down the tables. "Can you all hear me?" he asked, having everyone's attention on him. "Excellent" he said, smiling. "In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves" he explained, stopping in front of you. "Or a damsel in distress" he said winking at you as you rolled your eyes once more. "As I myself have done on countless occasions" he said as he kept on walking. "For full details, see my published works" he said arrogantly before taking off his cape and throwing it at you, but you stepped out of the way, and a couple of girls behind you started fighting over it.

"That Lockhart's is really something, isn't he Professor?" Justin Finch-Fletchley said smiling up at you. "Awfully brave chap" he added.

"I think he fancies you" you heard on your other side, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and Hermione Granger all grinning at you.

"You are so lucky" Hannah added.

You decided to remain quiet and then looked back at the other fighter in the duel. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off you. He had tried ever since the day before to get you to talk to him but you had managed to avoid him every single time.

"Pay attention, kids" you told them.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape" Lockhart continued. Snape slowly walked up the tables and closer to Lockhart. Arms in front of his chest, unfazed by this whole situation. You couldn't help but feel your heart clenching as he got closer. Merlin, how you hated him. And how you loved him. "He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration" he said, before winking at you. "Now, I don't want any of you, youngsters, to worry. You'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him. Never fear" he said, smiling at the room.

Without meaning to, you let out a laugh, followed by a loud snort. You widened your eyes and felt your cheeks burning when you noticed everyone had turned to look at you. You cleared your throat and composed yourself, missing how the corner of Severus' lip lifted only slightly.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry" you apologized, faking a cough. "I think I am coming down with something. As you were" you motioned for the two men to continue.

The two men walked into the middle of the tables, facing one another, raising their wands, before swinging them to their sides. They bowed to each other before they turned around and started walking in opposite directions. Nobody dared to take their eyes off the two men on stage. Your eyes followed Severus until he turned around and stood in his pose as Lockhart counted.

"One... two... three!"

"Expelliarmus!" a blast had come out of Severus' wand, before Lockhart could process it, sending the DADA teacher flying backwards. Most of the male students seemed amused, but the majority of the female students looked worried as Lockhart tried to sit up straight.

"Do you think he's alright?" Hermione asked.

"Who cares?"

You froze for a moment. Did you say that out loud? But it was Ron Weasley next to you. Thank Merlin.

"Mr. Weasley" you scowled him. You were still a Professor. You at least had to pretend to be concerned so you tried your best to hide your smile.

"An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape" Lockhart said, composing himself once he stood back up. "But if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious what you were about to do. And if I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy" he said cockily.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor" Snape said in his classic condescending tone with his classic condescending smirk. You forced yourself to stop grinning at the scene in front of you.

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape" Lockhart said, forcing a smile. "Let's go again" he said as they resumed their positions.

The two of them kept on going a few rounds, Severus easily beating Lockhart for most of the rounds, except one or two where he had gotten distracted. You started noticing that Lockhart's frustration made him escalate each round with a new spell. Snape managing to block it each time, however, you knew it would only be a matter of time until he started escalating his spells as well.

"I believe that should be enough of a demonstration for the students to-"

"Nonsense!" Lockhart interrupted you as he stood up once again. "We are settling this once and for all" he defied Snape as he stood in front of him.

"My pleasure" Snape said from his place.

"No!" you said, stepping on the table as well. "This has gone on long enough! You two are turning this into an egotistical battle instead of an educational activity for students to learn charms and spells that can help them protect themselves!"

"Pardon me, my dear, but this is my class" he said, slowly shoving you out of the way. "And we're going to finish this like men" he said, making you let out an offended scoff.

"Excuse me?" you said with an arched eyebrow and then you turned to look back at Snape. "Are you just going to stand there and let this continue?"

"If Professor Lockhart would like to do one last attempt of demonstration" he said in his monotone voice. "I don't see what the problem is" he finished.

"Fine!" you let out a sarcastic laugh before you climbed down the tables. "Go ahead and finish yourselves then, see if I care" you muttered.

"Oh I will finish you alright" Lockhart said to Snape. "And when I do, you will finally have to stay away from her and I'll have her all to myself-"

"You talk a lot for somebody who has lost the last few rounds, Lockhart" Snape said calmly.

The two of them remained in their places and were talking only within each other's earshot, but you had a pretty good idea of what was going on. And you knew it wasn't going to end well.

"I already have planned our first date" he taunted him. "I'm going to take her to the Three Broomsticks, then Madam Poodifoot's perhaps, you know how women love that place" he kept on rambling on. Snape made his best to show that he was not getting to him but you knew that whatever the DADA teacher was saying, was upsetting the Potions master. You knew by the way he was gripping his wand. And you also knew he was close to losing it as Lockhart went on. "And then back to my chambers with a bottle of Firewhisky-"

Lockhart was sent backwards, much as he did earlier in the duel. The students gasped shocked. Snape hadn't even said a spell out loud.

"Oh no" you muttered to yourself. It was happening.

"Right, students. Professor Snape has just demonstrated how a non-verbal spell can also be helpful-" Lockhart didn't get to finish because another spell was sent his way, Snape pointing his wand directly at him.

"That is enough!" you yelled, as you tried to get the students to back off the tables, but the two dueling men barely acknowledged you; it was useless.

The dark-haired wizard kept on throwing spells and cursed at the blonde one, who was trying with all his might to avoid them, as he got his wand back in his hand. He walked over to Snape, managing to dodge the spells coming out of his wand.

"Did I touch a nerve, Professor Snape?" Lockhart mocked him, once he was in front of his face again. "I have noticed the way you look at her, you know?"

"I advise you, Lockhart to walk away right now" he said in a low voice. He knew he could not lose his temper in front of all the students, and in front of you.

"The only way I am walking away out of here is Professor Black in my arm" he said with a smirk. "Maybe I'll have a little celebration with her afterwards-"

"I am warning you" Snape said feeling his hand start to shake.

"I bet you she'd love it. To be with someone like me. I bet you I can have her scream my name in no time-"

Lockhart flew backwards once more, but he was getting quicker at recovering and he was back on his feet before Snape thought he could, so he quickly threw another spell at him. You knew that face too well. You had only seen it once in your fifth year when he used it against James Potter. You knew what it was. You were genuinely surprised when Lockhart managed to block it, deviating its way. You saw it making its way through the students and towards Neville Longbottom. Why did it always have to be Neville Longbottom? Everyone quickly dispersed, avoiding getting hit and before you could think of anything else, you pushed Neville out of the way, making the curse hit you instead.

"LOVE!" Snape yelled, feeling his blood run cold. He saw you fly across the room and hit the stone-cold wall before you landed on the floor, screaming in pain, blood spurting from your face and your body as if you had been slashed with an invisible sword. He instantly ran to your side and he could barely register the noise of scared students around him. He heard Lockhart saying something about that's how you block a spell. "My love, look at me" he said, holding your hand, and cupping your cheek with his other hand, not even caring about who could hear or see him. "It's okay, love. I'm here" he said, stroking your trembling hand with his.

"S-Sev?" you said, breathing heavily and looking him into his dark onyx eyes with your frightened ones.

"GET EVERYONE OUT!" Snape yelled directly at Lockhart, who was now at your side too. "And go get Madam Pomfrey!"

"Right, I should-"

"NOW LOCKHART!" he snapped again. You started feeling lightheaded as you saw the Great Hall clear in less than two minutes. You felt him move and tightened the grip on his hand.

"Don't leave me, please" you begged, crying as you tried to normal your breathing.

"I'm not leaving you, love" he said, kissing your forehead. "Ever" he assured you. "I am so sorry, angel" he whispered before he grabbed his wand. "This is going to sting a little" he warned you and you nodded gripping his hand harder.

Severus drew his wand and traced it over the deep wounds on your body, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like a song. The flow of blood seemed to ease. He then wiped the residue from your face and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting. His heart breaking with every pained whine and tear that came out of you. Never in a million years would he ever want you to experience such pain. Pain that he created nonetheless and pain that came from his wand. From his mind. He did this to you.

"D-don't cry, l-love" you said, cupping his cheek with your free hand. He hadn't even noticed he was until you wiped the tear away with your thumb. He was about to reply but you started closing your eyes.

"No, no. Stay with me, love" he begged. "Love, please" he said with his voice breaking. "I love you" you heard him say before everything went black.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You woke up a couple of hours later and saw that you were in the Hospital Wing. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you noticed you were at the furthest bed and there was some kind of curtains, separating you from the rest of the beds. You sat up, regretting it the second you felt every small cut on your body making you let out a pained sound.

"What do you think you're doing?" you heard the familiar voice you loved so much, walking inside your little room and placing the tray of food on your nightstand. "You should be resting" he said, sitting down next to you.

"Sorry" you said with a small smile. "Is that for me?" you asked pointing at the tray.

"Of course it is, love" he said in an incredibly soft tone. One you were sure you had never heard him use before. "But you have to drink this first" he said, handing you a small bottle with a potion in it. You grabbed it and did as you were told before you spat it back out. "Hey!"

"That is bloody disgusting" you said, cleaning yourself up.

"Excuse me? I brewed that potion myself" he complained. "And you have to drink it to heal faster" he instructed.

"I'm sorry, love but it tastes horrible" you argued.

"I don't care. Drink it" he said with a firm tone, grabbing it and giving it to you again. You hesitated and tried pouting your way out of it, but finally gave in since Severus wasn't budging, and you drank it down. Severus tried not to laugh at the face you made but you managed to finish it.

"There, are you happy?" you pouted. "Hey, what's wrong?" you asked when she saw him frowning. "I'm fine, Sev-"

"I'm sorry" he said, taking a sit on your bed and holding your hand to his lips before kissing it. "I am so sorry about everything" he whispered. "You were right" he said, cupping your cheek with his free hand. "I am so sorry, my love-"

"Sev, it's okay-"

"No. Is not okay" he said, with his voice breaking. "I did this to you. I have never wanted anything to hurt you and I-" he stopped, looking away. "And it could have been a student. This is all my fault" he said, taking a deep breath. "I should have never agreed to duel that imbecile" he kept going. "I should not have let him get to me, making me lose my temper" he added. "But most importantly, I should have told him that we are a couple" he said, making you smile slightly. "I should have told anybody who would listen that we are a couple. I don't want you to think that our relationship means little to nothing to me. Our relationship means the world to me" he assured you, kissing your hand again. "It always has. You have no idea how proud it makes me feel to call you mine. The only reason why I said I wanted to keep our relationship private is because... because of my past, love" he said. "I don't want anything in this world to harm you. And being connected to me will-"

Severus was cut off when you pulled his face and crashed his lips against yours. He tried to stop you but gave in since he knew how stubborn you were and knew better than to stop you from doing something you wanted to do.

"I don't care about that, love" you said, with a smile once you broke apart. "Whatever happened in the past, is over. And whatever comes..." you sighed. "We'll figure it out, together. There is nobody else that I would want by my side" you whispered before giving him a peck on the lips.

"But I am-"

"I know what you are" you said, smiling. "And I am a Black, Sev. You know what Regulus did and Sirius..." you stopped. Sirius was still a touchy subject for you and he knew that. "Nobody is really safe for what's to come, love" you assured him. "I just know that I want to spend as much time with you as I possibly can... if you want to" you said, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

"You deserve better-"

"I deserve someone who took care of me when I wasn't able to take care of myself after I lost my two brothers" you told him with a serious expression on your face. "I deserve somebody who helped me throughout my first year at teaching here so I wouldn't make a fool out of myself" you continued. "I deserve somebody who makes potions for me whenever I get sick, no matter how horrible they may taste" you said with a small giggle. "I deserve someone that cares about me the way you do, Sev" you assured him.

"I just don't want you to get hurt-"

"I won't" you assured him. "You won't let that happen" you said smiling. "I know you won't" you said, kissing him once more.

"You really trust me that much?"

"Are you joking? I even bet fifteen galleons that you would beat Lockhart today" you said giggling. Severus widened his eyes in surprise and arched his eyebrows at you. "What? I believe I won" you smirked. "Tell Fred and George they owe me my money" you told him, making him laugh a little. "I'd bet my life on you, Severus Snape."

"You really are something else, Professor Black" he said, rolling his eyes before he kissed your forehead.

"Thank you, Professor Snape-"

"No" he cut you off. "Don't call me that, please. Ever again" he begged, making your smile grow wider.

"So..." you said looking innocently at him. "Does this mean that everyone knows we're a couple?" Severus let out a small laugh and nodded.

"I imagine that if they didn't hear me on the Great Hall when you fell, they did when I yelled it at Lockhart in the Hospital Wing" he told you. "Minerva and Albus were there so..."

"Oh, so by now the entire school probably knows" you said laughing a little.

"Most likely, yes" he nodded. "Did you know Albus and Minerva had a bet going on with the other professors about when we would get together?"

"I knew it!"

"You did?"

"Well, I suspected it, really. Minerva and Pomona kept on asking me if we were already together every month" you admitted.

"Apparently, it started when we were students" he informed you.

"Really?" you said with an arched eyebrow. "Who won?"

"I think Hagrid" he admitted, making you laugh a little as he took his seat back next to your bed. "You should eat something, love" he said, pointing at the tray and you did as you were told.

"Sev?"

"Yes, my darling?" you blushed a little. You weren't used to him calling you lovely pet names but you were not complaining.

"I don't know if I was delirious because I hit my head or if I imagined it but... I think I heard you say something to me before I blacked out?" you said with a small smirk.

Severus cleared his throat before he looked at his Daily Prophet. "You did."

"Hmm... and what was it?"

"You’re pushing it..."

"Please?" you pouted. "I just hit my head and almost bled out-"

"I love you" he quickly said, not wanting to remember just hours ago, when he had never felt more frightened in his entire life. "I love you, Miss Black. I always have" he admitted.

You bit your lip, trying to prevent your smile from getting bigger but it was basically impossible. You sat up, ignoring every pain in your body, and brought him closer to you.

"I love you too, Severus Snape" you said kissing him again.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: aahh xD I hope you like it! I don’t get much Snape requests but I love them so... please ask away ;)

[honorhearted]

A certain heat prickled beneath Benjamin's collar, but he grinned, unabashed in his smug amusement. "Yes, I remember it well," he assured her. "You insisted my collection of Jacob Rueff's diagrams were outdated, and...well, the anatomical corrections you gave were quite informative. Invigorating, too. I didn't realize I had such a thorough study partner."

Hannah's wink caused the pink in his cheeks to spread toward his chest, so Benjamin redirected his gaze to their dozing Jane, if only to alleviate some of his present frustrations.

Hannah, mercifully, seemed intent on reprimanding Susannah, who kept darting her eyes toward Benjamin to see if he would disagree. Between the two of them, he was the most malleable parent -- he only became strict in terms of safety and play dates with other children -- but when she found no ally in his gaze, she slumped and did as she was bidden.

Hannah soon sent Susannah and Eleanor off to go play (though not before Benjamin swooped in and squeezed them against his sides, tickling them until they screamed and ran off for refuge).

"You know, you're never more attractive than when you reprimand," he teased his wife. "It is by far your master stroke...and for once, I am not implying anything untoward." Hannah scooted closer and laid her head upon Benjamin's shoulder, causing him to smile and nudge his cheek down into her hair. "Penny for your thoughts? Perhaps even a full dollar?"

Her question took him off-guard, though he hummed and entwined their hands. "I don't think you want to hear my answer," he quipped, "though you should know you're an astoundingly good mother -- the very best, in fact. They want for nothing in love and guidance, and that's all a child truly needs." Benjamin arched a brow, lifting his head. "But why do you ask? Is something troubling you?"

she loved flustering him, particularly in situations where he could not so easily sweep her away to indulge in her affections. it made their eventual time alone after the household had gone to sleep for the night that much more enjoyable. " I do not think a sworn gentleman's vow is compelled to hold true once he is married. " after all, had they both adhered to strict vows, they certainly would not have a gaggle of happy children and a very satisfactory marriage. " and I am well aware of your preference for elaborations and demonstrations. is that not how dear jane was conceived? " luckily, jane was still fast asleep against hannah's chest. the wink she gave him was one that promised a thorough demonstration later.

at the end of the day, the destructive of her beloved euclid's elements was reparable, as she could simply procure another. after all, books were replaceable, precious moments with her family were not.

" mr. altwood was merely expressing his opinion, you were the one who protested and threw him off our property. " mr. altwood had indeed questioned whether it was entirely appropriate for a woman to have so many opinions, and why hannah might do well to err to her husband's wishes. of course, such a thought was laughable in the tallmadge house, where hannah possessed a barrage of her own opinions, with an affection benjamin watching her with love at all times. " but susie, you must not say such things to your sister, " she then scolded their eldest. hannah reached her hand out to gesture for susannah to come heed her.

reluctantly, susannah slumped over to her mother and hung her head. " I am sorry, mama. " she looked entirely morose about the situation.

hannah took susie's hand and squeezed it. " all is forgiven, now kiss your sisters and go play. " perking up once more, susie kissed the top of little sleeping jane's head in hannah's arms before going over to eleanor and kissing her cheek in apology. like in typical little girl fashion, their troubles were just as quickly forgotten as they happened.

as hannah watched them run off into the garden once more, hannah edged across the blanket closer to ben and leaned her head against his shoulder. she had a faint headache, a familiar symptom of her condition ( and from simply being a mother and wife ). " how many children do you think is too many children? " hannah wondered aloud. the question was one hannah had pondered many nights, particularly when she was at her wits end and worried she was not raising any of them in the proper way they deserved.

[senorarelojes]

Excerpt from ‘Your Favourite Slave’

This is an extremely belated Christmas present for the very lovely @pinksyndication. Since Mo wanted to take a peek at their present, I’ll post an excerpt here. I swear I will finish all the WIPs floating around!

Notes: Fantasy AU, themes of slavery/sexual slavery (but no non-con or rape).

. Alan knew he wasn’t alone the moment he shut the door to his chamber. He’d been on guard ever since he - and the rest of their entourage - had set foot in this foreign kingdom. There was something not quite right in the land of Essex, a seafaring kingdom that was rumoured to be established by pirates. The more Alan saw of the coarse land and even coarser people, the more he’d been tempted to head straight home to Londinium. But he couldn’t let his brothers and his people down; they needed access to the well-equipped, strategically positioned ports of Essex, so Alan had led the Londinium delegation here without a complaint.

Now, after a whole day of fruitless negotiating with the frustratingly tight-lipped Prince Martin, Alan just wanted dinner and a hot bath. 

The chamber given to royal visitors was far more luxurious than Alan had expected. Upon opening the door, one was greeted with a neat and cosy solar, equipped with a lush couch and an oak desk that provided ink, parchment and candles for Alan to do his work. The solar had a secondary door that led to the main bedchamber, where a massive four-poster bed draped in the lushest silks awaited him. The windows overlooked the sea too, which was a view Alan admittedly enjoyed.

Although there was no one in the solar, there must have been someone waiting in the main bedchamber. The air was spiced with traces of a sweet, musky perfume meant to entice, and Alan could see the flickering light of the fireplace already lit. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Alan stepped into the bedchamber, his eyes widening at what he saw.

A man was reclining across his mattress on his side, his head propped up with an elbow on the bed. One look at the man’s attire and appearance told Alan all he needed to know about why he was here; the man was dressed in white silk pyjama bottoms that looked soft to the touch, his upper body covered only with an indecently sheer tunic that left nothing to the imagination. Even then, Alan didn’t miss the black slave collar around the man’s neck. 

They’d sent a pleasure slave to his room.

The man raked a hand through his hair, which was dark as a raven’s wing. It was a nice contrast against his pale skin, and his lips were the lushest Alan had ever seen on a man. At this point he licked them, leaving them even more moist and inviting.

However, that all paled in comparison to the main focal point of this astoundingly pretty picture: the man’s eyes. They were a warm greenish brown in the candlelight, framed by a set of long, dark lashes and full, masculine brows. There was an amused glint in those eyes too, which meant that Alan had been caught staring.

“What is this?” Alan kept his face as calm and impassive as possible. 

The man shot him a knowing smile with just a touch of slyness. “The king sent me, my lord.” His voice was surprisingly sweet and husky, the vowels curiously elongated and rounded - typical of the Essex accent.

Alan arched an eyebrow at him. “Prince Martin told us the king is occupied with other matters.” 

“So he is.” The man stretched out on the bed like an indecent feast. “Doesn’t mean the king can’t make sure his guests aren’t well taken care of.”

“Is that what you’re supposed to do?” Alan washed his hands in the little basin with the jar of water waiting for him. “Take care of me?”

Letting out a dirty laugh, the man grinned at Alan as he let his legs fall open. “All that and more, handsome.” He patted the bed. “Come here, I’ll make you feel good.”

Alan would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He’d always preferred the company of women, although there were a few men who’d managed to turn his head. The man in his bed was leagues above them, in possession of every single attractive trait Alan liked about men.

Unfortunately, the collar on his neck reminded Alan that the man wasn’t in possession of his own free will. Alan’s brother, King Stephen, had outlawed slavery in Londinium fifteen years ago, but it wasn’t surprising that a kingdom like Essex - with a history steeped in piracy - would still be in favour of such an antiquated practice. In Alan’s opinion, sexual slavery was even worse. Forcing someone to warm your bed was a deplorable act. “No,” he said.

The man’s eyebrows jumped upwards. “No?” His mouth flattened into a thin line. “Does my appearance displease you?”

Alan couldn’t help his scoff. “On the contrary. If you only knew how pleasing you are to me, then you’d know how difficult it is for me to turn you away.”

The man’s face brightened. “So what’s the problem?”

Alan splashed his face with water before drying it with a towel. “I do not wish to force you.”

Now it was the man’s turn to scoff. “Believe me, mate, nothing about this is forced.” He eyed Alan with a slow, lazy smile as he began tugging down the hem of his silk harem trousers. “Just come over here. Then I can report to the king that I made you happy, and you’ll be in a good mood for the negotiations tomorrow.”

Alan flashed him an understanding smile. “I suppose the king wouldn’t be happy if I sent you away without...partaking of your services.”

The man shrugged. “He would be most displeased, yes. But you don’t have to worry about me.”

Alan had no idea what gruesome punishments awaited pleasure slaves who had not carried out royal orders. He didn’t want to get this poor man into trouble. “Look, what’s your name?”

“My name doesn’t matter,” the man said.

Alan fixed him with a steady look. “It matters to me.”

Surprise bloomed on the man’s face, followed by something that looked like curiosity. “Dave. My name is Dave.”

“Well, I’m Alan.”

Dave’s mouth curled up a little at the sides in amusement. “I’m well aware of who you are, Prince Alan.”

“No need to address me as so.” Alan gestured at the door leading to the solar. “I’m going to sleep on the couch outside. You can sleep in the bed and leave in the morning, if you like. So the king thinks you’ve fulfilled your duties.”

This actually made Dave bolt upright in astonishment, the sexy and coy act forgotten. “Wait-- you would let a lowly slave take your bed while you slept outside?”

“You’re not lowly.” Alan nodded at him in farewell as he shuffled out of the room. “Have a good night’s rest, Dave.”

As he suspected, the couch was far more comfortable than it looked. Alan unbuttoned his tunic before settling in on the couch’s soft cushions. He was so exhausted from days of travelling and the day’s pointless negotiations that he found himself nodding off quite quickly. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he thought he felt someone carefully draping a blanket over him.

When he woke up in the morning, the blanket was still there but Dave was already gone.

[the1918]

“put you on something new” - part 2

The frat!Steve x jock!Bucky College AU by @the1918 and @howdoyousleep3

Read Part 1

tw: mentions of drug use for this part

Steve is frozen. He is objectively aware that he’s still breathing but doesn’t totally remember what lungs are.

“With lips like those? Well, that’s a goddamn cryin’ shame…”

He knows he’s staring. He knows that Bucky’s eyes are a grayer blue than his own because they’re all Steve can look at, knows that those same eyes are gleaming with mirth more and more by the second. 

Steve is frozen, because... Steve has lips that are suitable for sucking dicks? Preferable, even, for sucking dicks. Cocks. Steve knows this, because a future NFL first-round draft pick just told him as much.

And then a few seconds or weeks or something of the like pass by in silence and locked stares before Bucky breaks out in a fit of deep laughter. He throws his head back and his eyes crinkle at the edges, and even though Steve still feels like a deer in headlights he finds himself smiling, too, like a mirror that can’t help but reflect what’s in front of him.

“You’re something else, punk,” Bucky says, shaking his head with a chuckle. 

Bucky looks into his near-empty cup before tossing back the last of the contents, stubbled neck exposed, and Steve’s brain is like a circuit board underwater. Bucky swallows and smiles, chucks the red plastic cup into a nearby trash can before slinging his arm around Steve’s shoulders like it’s something they do all the time. Before Steve can even react to the gesture, Bucky raises up his free hand, slides the index finger under Steve’s chin, using the leverage to tilt Steve’s face up half an inch. He does all of it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. It makes Steve’s spine melt like an ice cube.

“Relax, Rogers. Let’s get back to your party.”

***

They do return inside, and Steve spends the next hour in a near catatonic state. Bucky separates from Steve but never strays very far, always in the same room, always within eyesight. Steve watches as Bucky falls back into all the easy conversation he’s demonstrated all night long, and Steve makes himself return to some half-assed version of his regular kegger hosting duties. He throws out a couple of Pi Kapps that aren’t supposed to be there. He yells at Tony for Iron-Man’ing Rhodey for the second time that semester because “tin foil ain’t as cheap as you little rich boys think it is, dumbass.”

But Steve’s attention is never on any one thing for too long, because Bucky’s eyes are on him. Bucky’s eyes are on him. From his place across the room Steve watches someone hand Bucky a bottle of the good craft beer and Bucky takes it with a charming smile, and then Bucky’s nodding and chatting but he’s looking over his companion’s shoulder until he’s staring right at Steve. Steve looks back.

Bucky’s lips wrap around the neck of the bottle. He swallows a healthy gulp, and his throat bobs with it. Steve watches. Bucky winks. Steve likes pussy and lipstick and big tits. His feet trip over absolutely nothing. 

Steve’s night doesn’t get any less confusing after that. He always makes a point to never get completely smashed at his own keggers, but tonight he finds himself maintaining nothing more than an even buzz. He doesn’t feel the usual need to constantly heft a drink up to his mouth, to imbibe and numb his mind to anything but fun. But he does find that he feels drunk in a completely different way, knows it’s not from cheap alcohol but from the weight of Bucky’s attention. Steve certainly does stumble like he’s drunk when Bucky comes up behind him and cups a warm hand at the back of his neck as he’s passing by, on his way to the bathroom.

He’s so caught up in living his bizarre new reality that Steve is floored when he looks at his phone to find that it’s already one in the morning. The party is by no means over but it’s definitely winding down, so it’s no surprise when he sees Bucky’s crew start to group up again and pat each others’ shoulders, obvious exchanges of ‘you ready to roll?’ passing between them. Steve’s stomach sinks with an explicable volume of disappointment.

And it’s like Bucky must sense what Steve’s feeling, because when he walks over to Steve to say his goodbye he’s got this look on his face that could almost be apologetic, if not for the odd twinkle in his eye.

“Stevie,” he drawls. His voice is deeper and throatier than it had been early in the night. “I know I said it before, but you throw a hell of a kegger, punk.”

Before Steve can respond Bucky throws an arm around his shoulders, for the second time that night. He does it exactly like he had earlier on the porch, right after he had ruined Steve’s life with the news that Steve’s got lips made to slide a dick between.

“Yeah, uh. Thanks, man.” Steve can feel the absolute meatball expression on his own face. 

Bucky doesn’t take his arm away like Steve expects. He tightens it instead, bringing Steve’s body in closer, and Steve falls into it easily. Bucky acts like they’re the only two people in the room when he moves his lips in until they’re just inches away from Steve’s ear.

“Really, though. I had a real fucking good time tonight.” Steve can’t see Bucky’s face from this angle but he can feel the breath against his cheek, the way it clearly takes on the shape of Bucky’s smile. “I seen you been quiet for awhile. Gettin’ sleepy?”

Steve laughs nervously, shakes his head. “Nah, just--” He hiccups, for some ungodly reason. “Opposite, actually. Never can sleep after these things. Probably gonna go upstairs soon and light a spliff just so I can shut my eyes.”

At that Bucky makes a low, interested noise into his ear before pulling back a little, leaving the hand on Steve’s shoulder but moving so he can face him. His left eyebrow has an astoundingly charismatic arch to it.

“That so, Stevie?” he says. Steve starts to wonder if it’s possible to die from a nickname. “Don’t suppose you’d wanna share some of that bud, would’ya?”

The hand on Steve’s shoulder squeezes down on his flesh for one full second longer than meets the definition of a regulation Bro Squeeze. Bucky’s lips are tilted sideways into a smile that says that he wasn’t actually asking Steve a question. Steve’s brain feels like it’s lagging behind reality in a way that makes him think he might already be high.

“Uh, sure-- for sure, yeah. Bro. For sure.” Steve’s mouth is so, so dry that when Bucky licks his own spit-slick lips it feels like he’s just bragging. “Come on up, if you wanna. S’ plenty.” 

Bucky’s half-grin grows. It splits his face. The hand on Steve’s shoulder falls away and brushes against the entire plane of his bicep and forearm on the way down. 

“Yo, Dum-Dum!” Bucky hollers back towards the door. He turns his head to get his crew’s attention. “You guys head on out.”

A couple of ‘o-kay’ hand signs are thrown their direction and the front door is opened, the entourage that Bucky had arrived with hours ago shuffling out. 

When Bucky turns back to Steve his blue-gray eyes look darker than before. His lashes are lower. Steve feels like he’s about to be told a secret, something that Bucky didn’t want to say until there were fewer eyes on them. The points of Bucky’s canines look sharp when he smiles.

“Lead the way, Stevie.”

(credit to the incredibly resourceful @mareviils​ for the perfect DSL photo find)

---

@howdoyousleep3​

UPDATE: Read Part 3

[ofwulf]

"Same. But you hear things. And then there's the movies... Toga... Toga... Toga..."

He's trying to be a little light hearted at least. It's not easy though when the hairs on the back of his neck have been prickling all night. Strange smells and new people. It all just intermingled to spell 'trouble'. And while Douglas might not be a psychic or a mystic, he doesn't need to be able to gaze into the future to see that nothing particularly - good - might come of the evening. The best he can hope for is that it's all a dud and the worst that might happen are a few drunk teens puking in a nearby bush and nursing a hangover come sunrise.

At her next words, Doug glanced down at his cup. It's just - coffee. He's never been any kind of particular connoisseur. Yes - his senses are sharp enough to discern a decent cup from a mug of puddle water - and the coffee from the Haze was a decided improvement over stuff he tended to keep at the repair shop.

"Yeah?"

Looking back up, one brow arches in question - and this time there is a small smile on his face - genuine amusement at her comment.

"You don't often hear someone talking down their own product. But maybe talking it down with a view to improve is just a good marketing strategy."

The smile does falter slightly at the flush and the apology. Another stark reminder of why Doug is actually - here. Because yes - weird wasn't quite the word for it. Weird would be nice. Something a little strange. A little puzzling. A little mysterious. But this weird had teeth and claws and had caused some serious harm.

"Trust me, it's no picnic for the people who've been here all their lives either."

Chweing on the side of his mouth for a moment in thought Dougl does offer one more comment on the... situation...

"This is unsolicited advice - and it probably goes without saying, so feel free to take it or leave it, but... You should be careful. Even here, with plenty of people around. I don't know if the 'weird' is over... So, please... just... yeah... uh... Now I'm the one who should probably shut up."

There's something of a quick headshake and a huff from the elder Sharpe as she questions his reason for being here...

"Yeah - Dec... Declan. The most amazingly smart and genuine kid you could want to meet who's also somehow still capable of absolute stupidity - sometimes at the same time."

Kid. It's not as though Dec was still running around in diapers. He's a man within his own right. But to Doug he'll always be 'little brother'. No matter how old or how accomplished.

"I just hope that the 'smart' wins out over the 'stupid' tonight."

He's about to laugh again, but the light shifts and he can see that her expression has changed. It's stark and sharp and... if he was any kind of poet, Douglas might have described the look on her face as 'haunted'.

---I had a brother, too

HAD. Oh... It's like a gut punch. Because that one word screams out at him, over and above everything else she says. It's like a gong went off in his brain. A sudden swarm of bees stinging every nerve in his body... It's Dougs worst fear being lived through someone else. He can't imagine... Just... Can't...

He really should have listened to himself when he said he should shut up.

"Oh, shit... I... I'm sorry."

Maybe the capacity to be astoundingly stupid runs in the damn family - because it sure as hell felt that way right now. What does he even say. Does he ask how? Or when? Or... No... Not his business. If she wanted to volunteer more - that was her story to tell. Not his to ask for.

"I really am - sorry. Look... I never even got your name... Maybe we should start over... Hi - I'm Douglas."

"I skipped frat parties so...", she watched the teenagers pass them by and furrowed her brows. Maryam understood celebration and ravalry as much as any other fae, frolicking in the forest and all. But where she had thought to find similiarities with the mortals she was once again at a loss. They were so similar, and yet so very different. The fae gave the man beside her a look over and smiled again. "You don't enjoy yourself very often, hu?"

"Honestly, when it comes to coffee and Lavender Haze... We could do better, if we wanted to", she shrugged at his coffee but found herself nodding at his next words. Maryam liked this beverage that most mortals were almost addicted to, a lot. She saw why so many of them could not start the day without. It made her alert, made her awake, but it was still only a shadow of what magic had been able to do for her at the court. And it was such a stark contrast to how mortals tried so hard to dull their senses again with every next step they took on a regular day. They needed constant sound and colours, yet enslaved themselves in the grey of their daily life, forgetting to look up towards the stars.

She shook her head slightly, chasing away those thoughts and returning to the conversation at hand. "Sorry, I got lost up here for a moment", Maryam pointed to her head and gave him a warm - very apologetic - smile, "It has been a confusing few weeks here. But yes, I work at the Haze. But I am still fairly new to Holloway. I arrived just in time to see all that monster in the woods stuff." She took a sip from her coffee, "Sorry, I do not mean to joke, I know that was quite serious and people were lost. It was just... also very weird, for someone coming in from the outside. You don't have that every day. And - I better stop talking now."

Her cheeks turned a shade darker and she hoped he would take it as her being flustered. In truth her tongue had ran off as she played for time. Her eyes had found Silas at the other end of the garden and she could not help but follow his steps - already looking forward to the conversation they would have that night.

"Your brother?", Maryam's head snapped back to the man and his words hit her so unexpected she could not stop the shadow from passing over her features, the grief from sneaking into her eyes. She bit her lip as she listened to him, fighting for control again. The one thing that made her weak, the one thing that destroyed the mask she had built over centuries. "I had a brother, too, you know. I hope yours is aware of how lucky he is to have you, looking out for him like this. Not everyone would do that. And it is a good thing to have, a big brother."

[copper-wasp]

Jesse McCree x Reader: Missed Call

Rating: E

Words: 4,395

Tags: Accidental Voyeurism, Cunnilingus, Face Sitting, Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Creampie, This Turned Into Daddy Kink and I’m Not Sorry

Also posted to AO3!

For my fellow McCree fucker, @amicitiayes 💖

With a groan, Jesse McCree rolled over to angrily gaze at his phone in the darkness of his room, the device ringing loudly at the very appropriate time of two in the morning. Picking it up, he looked at the screen, wanting to know who he was about to chew out before answering.

Jesse gave a puzzled look to the phone when he saw your name and picture - you never called him, well, not unless you were in trouble. Not that he would’ve minded if you did, but he wasn’t expecting the first casual call between you to be at 2 a.m. Usually the only contact he had with you this late was if he was thinking about how good your ass looked in those tight leggings you liked to wear, or how you’d winked at him when he joined you in ribbing Reyes over his botched haircut, or when you’d rest your head against his shoulder if the meeting you were in was horrifically boring. He was completely smitten with you, especially when he discovered your prowess with firearms rivaled his own, and he would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t think about you in less than appropriate ways sometimes.

A little pang of worry flitted across his chest, hoping that you were okay and thinking maybe you were just out drinking and accidentally butt dialed him.

“You okay, darlin’?” he asked after tapping to answer your call. He didn’t know what to expect - your voice either whispered and harried if you were in trouble, or cutely slurred just enough to make him smile if you weren’t. Jesse though, definitely didn’t expect what actually met his ear through the speaker of his phone.

“Oh, Jesse,” he heard you say, far-away sounding, like the phone was away from your face.

“Darlin’?” he repeated, but was answered only with a breathy moan that went straight to his cock, his length twitching in his pajama pants. Jesse’s eyes widened as he’s realized what was happening, mixed feelings of arousal and guilt as he realized you were pleasuring yourself... while thinking about him.

You said his name again, followed by a sharp intake of breath, and he bit his lip to keep from cursing. His cock jumped, blood rushing into his length with every little moan he heard you make.

He should hang up. Hang up the phone and put it back on his nightstand and try to get the desperate way you moaned his name out of his head. But he couldn’t, not when he heard you start moaning in rhythm, steadily panting as you fucked yourself with some unknown toy while pretending it was him.

“Fuck, Jesse, please,” you begged, and McCree’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, closing around his astoundingly hard cock. One hand worked to push his sweatpants down over his thighs as he kicked off the blankets, letting the cool air of his room swirl around his too hot member. He cradled the phone awkwardly between his shoulder and ear, your moans a little louder now as they came through the speaker. He imagined every move you were making against yourself, knowing you hit your sweet spot when your breath would hitch or your voice would fail you, and he couldn’t help but picture how your body might contort beneath his, his lips sealed over yours to swallow your climax. Jesse stroked himself the rest of the way hard, trying to catch up to you, wanting to come when you did.

“So... close.... Fuck! Fuck, Jesse, I’m so close,” you whimpered, and he could hear you, hear the delicious squelch of you fucking yourself through the phone. He wanted to taste you, drink up every drop of your slick, memorize your scent and how it feels when your thighs squeeze tight around his head before you’d come in his mouth.

Jesse’s grip around his cock was tight, stroking with each moan. You cried out, nearly a sob, devolving into a repeated whisper of his name, and Jesse tugged hard on his length just a few more times, his hips arching off the mattress as he came along with you. He had no idea how he managed to keep quiet, considering it’d been months since he came that hard, thick spurts of white pooling in the dips of his abs and dripping down his fingers.

Coming down, he tapped his phone to end the call, guilt immediately filling in the gaps in his brain where his arousal had fled. He had not only made no effort to get your attention or tell you that he could hear everything, but had gone so far as to orgasm to the sound of your voice.

“Fuck,” said Jesse flatly, staring at his ceiling. He got up after another long moment, hoping he’d be able to think of some way to explain or apologize while he cleaned himself up.

-:- -:- -:-

You jumped when you felt Jesse’s hand on your shoulder, not realizing he was walking towards you in the dining hall. You promptly choked on your food, taking a big swig of water to wash it down. You hoped it would wash down your shame too, but the heavy feeling in your gut was still there after you calmed down.

“Oh, uh, hey... McCree,” you greeted lamely, trying not to look at him.

“You got a minute, sweet pea?” he asked, and the rock in your stomach grew to the size of a boulder. You clung to the small probability that he was just asking you about an upcoming mission for Blackwatch, or if you wanted to train with him later, but in all likelihood, he was about to ask why exactly you had called him while you were fucking yourself on your vibrating dildo. Oh, and maybe also to ask why you cried out his name when you came.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Commander in a bit, but yeah... sure,” you replied, swallowing thickly before following McCree to an empty meeting room near the cafeteria. He gestured for you to go in first before closing the door behind him. You had to say something first, before you lost your nerve. But how did you apologize for accidentally calling him in the middle of an intense masturbation session? Or, even more pressing of a question; how did you apologize for moaning his name the whole time?

“Jesse-“

“[Y/N]-“

You laughed nervously, Jesse rubbing the back of his neck with a hand simultaneously.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted quickly, a little surprised at Jesse’s confused look. ”I, um... called you pretty late last night by accident... and I was doing something really inappropriate, so if there’s a voicemail from me on your phone, I’m... I’m just really sorry, Jesse.”

Jesse carefully considered what you had said; you had unwittingly just given him an out. He could say that he got the message but didn’t listen to it, or even say he didn’t even know you’d called, and that would be it.

But he couldn’t let you think that. It would gnaw at him if he didn’t come clean, constantly carrying around that shame that he knew what you sounded like when you climaxed. He’d been on a personal mission for quite some time now to always do the right thing, and he wasn’t about to break that promise to himself to lie to you.

“[Y/N], I... picked up when you called me last night,” Jesse began, making only minute eye contact before looking away. “And I heard you... uh, heard what you were doin’ but... I didn’t hang up.” Jesse looked incredibly guilty, but you didn’t interrupt him. “And hearin’ you... shit, say my name like that, all breathless and so goddamn sexy, I... I couldn’t help myself, darlin.’”

Was Jesse saying what you thought he was saying? “So... I’m sorry too, and I understand if ya hate me or... don’t trust me anymore,” he finished, running a hand through his hair, obviously nervous over what you were about to say.

“Jesse, no. I absolutely still trust you, I trust you with my life,” you replied, stepping towards him. “I just never thought you’d think about me like I do about you,” you admitted, imagination going crazy envisioning Jesse’s eyes squeezed shut as he jerked himself off, your face in his mind.

“So you really do think about me when ya-“ He wagged his eyebrows at you, smirk turning up one corner of his mouth, and you felt heat rush into your face.

“Jesse!” you said, falsely appalled, and you playfully punched him in the shoulder. “I’d think it’s pretty obvious that I do, considering you were listening....”

You laughed, and Jesse laughed along with you, the nervousness between you evaporating.

“Darlin’, would you mind terribly if I asked what... specifically... you were thinkin’ about...?”

You pursed your lips at his question, but were unable to stay annoyed at the cowboy when he had that playful look on his face. The heat blossoming between your legs was too strong to ignore, especially now that you knew Jesse was most likely more than willing to help you feed the fire. You walked slowly over to him, making a grand show of pressing your mouth next to his ear, letting your cheek brush against his beard on the way.

“I always think of how it would feel with you inside me, Jesse. Would you feel better than my toy? Would you fill me right up?” Jesse cleared his throat and swallowed hard, but you felt his hands grip onto your hips. “Would you be gentle or rough with me, cowboy? Would you go down on me, Jesse? I hope you would, so I can feel that sinful tongue of yours inside me too.” You were laying it on impossibly thick, just waiting for the sharpshooter to break.

And break he did, pulling your body flush to his by your ass, two healthy handfuls of it in his palms. You squealed a little in surprise, your hands hooking over Jesse’s shoulders. Now his mouth was by your ear, hot exhales of breath on your skin.

“I’ve been dreamin’ of what you’d taste like, sweet thing,” Jesse said, low and dangerous, “And I’d make you ride my face so I wouldn’t miss a drop.”

“Oh... fuck, Jesse,” you said, warmth growing stronger at your center at the thought of his head between your thighs.

“Say my name again, gorgeous,” he rasped out, grinding the bulge in his pants against you.

“Jesse, shit....” You were rapidly losing control, his name an aphrodisiac on your lips. “You wouldn’t wanna come back to my room, would you?”

The man was nuzzling at your neck, wet lips dragging sloppy kisses down your pulse point, rapid and hammering in your throat. “Don’t you have a meetin’ with Reyes?” he asked, trailing his hand up your side.

“Fuck Reyes,” you said, turning his head to capture his lips, but Jesse pulled back.

“I’d prefer if you fucked me, bein’ honest,” he replied with that gorgeous smile, and you tried and failed to stifle your laugh. But McCree wasn’t having any of that, placing a stiff hand on the back of your neck to direct your mouth to his.

You pulled yourself against him, letting Jesse keep you upright as you lost yourself in his kiss. His facial hair was surprisingly soft, nearly as much so as his lips, which gently worked against yours until you had to break apart to breathe, your arousal completely stifling you.

“Let’s go, Jesse,” you said, wishing him luck in hiding the promisingly huge bulge in his pants as you made your way back to your room.

-:- -:- -:-

Jesse barely even registered how much bigger your room was than his when you started tugging off your clothes.

“Hey now, let me do that,” he said, playfully slapping your hands away from the button of your jeans.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, and Jesse smiled, trying not to become too entranced with your chest, covered now by only a lacy little bra that didn’t leave too much left to the imagination.

“No need to apologize, I just wanna... enjoy all of this,” he said, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples on top of the lace. You whimpered at his touch, the soft noise making him nearly ravenous for you, but he held back, not wanting to go too fast. He dipped his head down, pressing soft kisses to your chest as he fiddled with the clasp of your bra. You let your head drop back, your arms linking around Jesse’s neck as he released the hooks.

Dropping the garment to the floor, the blood rushing to his cock at the sight of you bare for him made it necessary that he get you on your bed, and you took his direction willingly, laying so nicely on your back, feet planted on the floor. Jesse pulled his own shirt over his head before stepping between your thighs, and he felt your palms caress up his abs and chest, all the way to the sides of his neck where you pulled him down into another kiss. Your fingers scratched at his scalp when he pressed his tongue to the seam of your lips, gently entreating entrance. Yours met his at the gate, another tiny whimper from you as they touched enough to spur him on.

Jesse pulled away, smirking at the look of betrayal on your flushed face, deciding to rid you of the rest of your clothing. He delicately unbuttoned your pants, dragging his lips down your skin as he peeled off the fabric. When his fingers gripped at your underwear, he paused, looking up at you.

“You okay with this, sweet pea?” Jesse asked, and you nodded nearly before he finished his question, your hand closing over his to start pushing the last piece of clothing you wore off of your hips.

Jesse wolf whistled when he held your panties in his hand, knowing it would make you blush, and he quickly stowed the fabric in his back pocket while you were trying to squirm out of his gaze. Grabbing your hips to keep you still, he kissed below your navel, creeping down slowly until he kissed right above your slit, his beard tickling your skin.

He moved away with a wolfish grin, flopping on his back next to you on your bed. When you looked at him with a confused stare, he patted his chest. “Come on, darlin’. I did say I’d make you ride my face, didn’t I? Though from how you’re lookin’ at me, I’m thinkin’ I won’t have to make ya.”

You looked like you had a moment of disagreement with yourself, wanting to fight him, but your arousal won out, and you crawled over Jesse’s body, sitting gently on his chest, your slit just inches away from his mouth. Jesse moved you into position, his tongue immediately darting out to taste you, and he hummed low in his throat. He figured you could tell, but having your slick cunt hovered over his mouth and his head boxed in by your already quivering thighs was like heaven for him. His cock was rock hard and pushing against the unforgiving front of his pants, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting you to cry out his name while he wrecked you.

Any shyness you had was stripped away once Jesse’s tongue found your bud, and your hips started rocking against his face, stuttering when he’d wrap his lips around it, sucking hard before soothing over it with another flat lick. He lapped up your slick, your cunt pressing insistently now against his mouth. You reached forward to grab onto the headboard, giving Jesse access to tease a fingertip around your entrance before sliding it inside. You keened, arched your back and whispered his name, and Jesse slid his finger in all the way to the knuckle, his other hand still gripping to your hip to keep you steady.

“Oh, fuck, Jesse,” you moaned, inner walls clenching around his finger and he hummed again, lips clasped on your nub, letting you cry out and shiver as your climax neared. Jesse’s cock was now painfully hard, but he wasn’t gonna deny you, not now when he had you balanced so precariously on the edge. He quickly slipped another finger inside you, crooking it perfectly against that sweet spot, his tongue flicking over your clit.

He watched your mouth fall open, heard the creak of the wooden headboard as you gripped it for dear life, relished the cry of absolute pleasure that burst forth as you came. He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his tongue to lick up your sweet nectar. He kept your hips rocking against him, relishing the fact that the real him, not your imagined version, just made you come in his mouth.

“Fuck! Ah, fuck... fuckfuckfuck....” you moaned out, cunt twitching with aftershocks of your climax, Jesse’s tongue still swirling over you. You heard a muffled chuckle from between your legs, and you hoisted yourself up with shaky thighs, swinging your leg over and practically collapsing onto your mattress.

“I hope ya don’t think we’re done, gorgeous,” Jesse drawled, voice thick as honey, as he stood from your bed. He locked eyes with you as you shook your head in reply, taking off his pants with a teasing slowness. He grunted in relief as his tight pants drug down over his length, now only held back by the soft cotton of his boxer-briefs. You bit your lip, desperately wishing he’d just take them off already, and Jesse laughed, like he read your mind.

“There somethin’ you want?” he asked, taking a step back over towards your bed. You scooted to the edge, sliding off the mattress and kneeling so that your lips were just inches away from his straining length. Pushing his boxers down over his hips, your eyes widened at the impressive organ in front of you. You couldn’t appreciate it too much, as your mouth had a mind of its own, lurching forward to capture his head between your lips.

“Fuck... holy hell, darlin,’” Jesse cursed, fingers weaving into your locks. You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft, taking more of him into your mouth. You moaned at the tang of his precum on your tongue, Jesse’s grip in your hair getting a little tighter while you inches down his length. You reached up with your free hand to cup his balls, kneading the sac gently as you sucked hard. Jesse was mumbling, a mixture of curses and praises while you worked him over.

“Fuck, baby girl, mmh... feels so damn good,” he said and you hummed, pulling off of him with a pop to lick a long stripe up his length. He tugged on your hair, the tingle on your scalp just perfect, pulling you up to slam his mouth against yours.

You found yourself on your back a moment later, Jesse covering your body with his, ravenously kissing you again. You hooked your thighs over his hips, urging him to let his cock slide against your wet folds. Jesse stood tall, stroking himself to spread your slick over his length. He gripped your hips, pulling you down so your ass was perched precariously on the edge of the mattress before fisting himself once again, gaze focused on your entrance as he lined himself up.

He pushed in gently, watching your face for any discomfort, but you were more than ready to accommodate him, walls silky smooth as he slid home. Jesse was much, much better than your toy, you decided, when you felt him bottom out, a sinful groan sounding from his chest.

“You feel so good, so goddamn good, baby girl. You’re so good for me, aren’t ya, darlin’? So damn good,” Jesse said, every word a shock to your core.

“Please, Jesse,” you whined, lifting your hips so he would start to move. “Please... fuck me, Daddy.”

Jesse’s grip on your hips became monumentally stronger, and when you caught his eyes you swore they were glowing with arousal. You didn’t mean to call him that, to say that out loud, but you were glad you did when Jesse started to move, slight little thrusts that kept him mostly seated inside you, just enough to keep the embers lit in your belly.

“You want me to fuck you, baby girl?” he asked, voice raspy and dark.

“Yes, Daddy... please, I want you,” you replied, “I’ll be good for you.” Jesse stopped holding back, beginning to pound mercilessly into your pussy as you fisted your sheets, needing something to ground you from his magnificent cock.

It was a whirlwind, Jesse fucking you hard as your heels dug into his lower back, before he grabbed your thighs to lift your legs straight up, holding them against his chest as he thrusted. You were going to come again, Jesse’s relentless fucking bringing you right up to the edge again.

“Touch yourself, darlin’,” he said, and your hand slid down your sweaty abdomen, your slick guiding your fingers right between your lips. You took a selfish moment to touch where you were joined, Jesse’s cock hot and slippery as it disappeared inside you. Your clit was crying for attention, throbbing beneath your fingertips as you circled over it. “Good girl,” Jesse praised, and you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.

You pushed harder against yourself, Jesse pushing your legs towards your chest as he continued to thrust. You gasped, the precipice of your climax right in front of you. “I’m s-so close, Daddy,” you near whispered, arching your back to get his cock to rub against your most sensitive spot.

“Come on, baby, come for me. Come for Daddy,” Jesse said, his voice helping you over.

“Jesse!” you cried, each breath a gasp as pleasure clouded your vision. Your hand went limp between your legs, tears sliding out of the corners of your eyes.

He came soon after you, lifting you up off the mattress just a little, as he clung to your legs like a lifeline. You felt every stutter of his hips as he emptied himself inside you, imagining his come painting your insides white.

Jesse lowered your legs down slowly, helping you to adjust your position so all your limbs were on your bed. You managed to flop onto your stomach, body feeling like jello as Jesse sat up next to you. His breathing was still coming in pants, and your gaze trailed down his chest as he stretched his arms up over his head. He leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, nice and gentle in comparison to your rough fucking.

His eyes trailed down your back, a very self-satisfied smirk forming on his lips.

“Looks like I made a mess of you, darlin,’” Jesse said with effort, taking in your sweaty skin and wet thighs as his release started to drip out of your pussy. He caressed a hand over your ass, dipping it between your legs to gather the thick fluids there. You turned onto your side, opening your mouth for him to deposit his wet fingers. The lewdness of it all was nearly overwhelming, Jesse watching his fingers disappear into your hot mouth as you sucked him clean.

He followed his fingers with his mouth, kissing you hotly and pulling you back on top of him, big hands gripping your ass to grind against him.

A loud, hurried knock on your door made you yelp, both of your heads turning to look where the noise originated.

“Hey, [L/N]!? You in there? Are you sick?” Reyes shouted from the hall.

“Oh shit, I forgot about Reyes,” you whispered to Jesse’s amused face. You cleared your throat to respond, but he clapped a hand over your mouth.

“She’s a bit busy right now!” Jesse hollered back, already bracing for the punch to his shoulder, along with a yell of his name muffled by his hand.

“McCree? Goddamn it,” Reyes replied, continuing to curse in Spanish.

“I’ll clean her up and have her presentable for ya in just a minute, Boss-man,” Jesse added, and you truly wanted to kill him now.

You managed to pry his hand off of your mouth with a curse. “Jesse! You’re a dead man,” you said, exasperated and he had the audacity to laugh.

“Sorry... uh, Commander,” you managed to get out, “Can you give me a couple minutes? I’ll be right there for our meet-“

“We can reschedule, [L/N]. Find me when you’ve got... McCree washed off you,” Reyes interrupted with a resigned tone.

“I’m sorry, sir!” you called out before burying your face in your hands. “I can’t believe you did that....”

You felt Jesse grab your wrists, moving your hands down to look at him. “Got ya out of a meeting, didn’t I?” he replied and you rolled your eyes.

“Just got my meeting rescheduled, you big jerk.”

“Oh, come on sweetheart, don’t be mad. Daddy’ll make it up to you,” Jesse teased, tilting your head to press heated kisses to your neck.

“Jesse,” you replied with clear annoyance, but he wasn’t deterred, gently shifting you onto your back to continue lavishing your skin with kisses.

“Say, baby girl, why don’t ya show Daddy what ya were doing when ya called last night?” Jesse asked and you scoffed at his audacity. He looked up at you, eyes on fire, a similar heat starting to pool in your center.

“Do you enjoy torturing me?” you asked with a grin, letting your eyes flutter shut as he kissed the dip between your collarbones.

“Is it torture if ya enjoy it?” he asked back, shooting you a look. You reached over to your nightstand drawer, pulling it open by the handle.

“Shit, darlin’, how many of these d’ya have?” Jesse asked, eyes wide at your toy collection. You pulled out the toy you’d used last night, pressing the button to turn it onto the lowest vibration setting.

“You gonna be good and watch?” you asked as Jesse shifted off of you, his eyes flicking between the toy and where you were about to put it.

“‘Course. I got me a front row seat.”

-:-

Thank you for reading!!

Find me on:

AO3: copper_wasp

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[megan0013]

Hey, are you still doing unwritten scenes? I would kill for the scene of Walter and Barbara in that bar, you know, *all the way back then* if you catch my drift =)))

TACO TUESDAY, or: a fallout prologue

(mature, but not explicit)

“We could… get out of here? If you want.”

Walter nods, emerald gaze drawn to the redhead’s mouth as she nervously sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s a clear invitation. One that – oh, yes – he’d very much like to accept.

Even if he knows he shouldn’t.

But that’s the thing about tequila – it has an innate ability to suppress all rational thought when presented with temptation such as this. Or any temptation, really.

Not that it would be easy to turn her down sober, either. Because, goddamn, this woman – this, Barbara – is amazing. Clever and gorgeous, she’s managed to keep him utterly enchanted for hours now with seemingly no effort at all. He wonders if she’s a witch. Or, maybe some other type of fae? How else could her touch make him feel so… astoundingly alive?

“I’ve got roommates,” she continues softly. “But you said your apartment is just a few blocks away, right?”

Her hand slips from the edge of the bar to his knee, and it takes every ounce of inebriated self-control he can muster not to kiss her right there in front of everyone. Shameless flirting is one thing, but snogging a student with his cantankerous old department chair’s granddaughter slamming margaritas three seats away is certainly a no-no.

“Yes, that’s right,” he says instead, unable to stop the grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth as his hand covers hers. She feels like fireworks under his palm – which makes it all the more difficult for him to relinquish his hold on her to dig through his trouser pocket for his wallet. “Let me just…”

He stuffs a handful of cash into the glass containing their tab – not even a little concerned with leaving a 53% tip – and tosses back the last of his Dos Equis, then eagerly leads her through the bar.

“So.” Barbara’s grin is wide and infectious as they step into the cool winter air. “What do I owe you?”

Walter smirks. “Not a damn thing, love.”

“Uh-uh,” she tuts with a playful waggle of an index finger. “I am a big girl and I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He winds an arm around her shoulder and leans down to whisper suggestively into her ear, “However, I think you deserve to be absolutely spoiled tonight.”

And, ooh, he could get used to that delightful little gasp. The blush, too.

“Fine,” she says after a beat, brow arching. “But drinks are on me next time.”

Next time, huh?

His eyes sparkle as he guides her forward, away from the raucous bar and this week’s live cover of Mambo Number 5. He supposes he’s not overly opposed to the idea of a ‘next time’. He could use a distraction from Bular’s incessant bullshit – though, pursuing her after tonight would be a definite departure from the way he lets these things usually play out.

Relationships are… messy.

Not that he’s envisioning a relationship with her. A good time or two, sure. But certainly not a relationship. Those are reserved for humans and trolls – whole creatures – or, for lowly changelings with a much shorter fall from the Pale Lady’s grace than himself. And, anyway, there aren’t enough hours in the day as it is without adding something as frivolous as a…

Fuck. No. Stop thinking about that goddamn word already.

One night, that’s it: get in, get off, get out.

Her head tilts to rest on his shoulder for the remainder of their walk, and – okay, fine – maybe two nights. Three, tops.

“I, uh…” Walter clears his throat when they come to a stop outside the old brick building he calls home a few minutes later. “I understand if you’ve changed your mind. We can always just… have some tea? Or I could call a cab. I don’t want you to feel obligated – “

“Walt?”

He swallows, suddenly nervous. “Yes, Barbara?”

“Shut up.”

And then she’s kissing him – fingers twisting in his lapels, body pliant against him and mouth impatient – with such fervor, such intensity, that any doubts of her desire are instantly quelled.

He snakes an arm around her waist and easily avoids stumbling as he treks backward, pulling her with him all the way to the doorstep. It takes three tries to yank the house-key out of his pocket and another four more to fit it in the lock, but he somehow manages to get them inside without breaking the kiss for a single second.

“Nice place,” Barbara breathes, pushing the changeling’s jacket over his shoulders as he kicks the door closed. “How ‘bout a tour?”

“Of course.” He nips her bottom lip and tugs her sweater over her head. “We’ll begin with the bedroom, if that’s alright with you?”

She grins against his ear, nimble fingers working his belt as he kicks off a shoe. “Funny you should mention it. That’s the room I’m most interested in seeing.”

“Great minds…” He groans when she pops open the button on his trousers, “think alike.”

His other shoe is sent sailing right before Barbara pulls him into another insistent, sanity-stealing kiss. Fine, fine! Four nights. He can spare four nights just like this – with a very slim chance of more.

“Wait.” Her hands suddenly still on his waist. “I don’t have any, uh…”

He squints at her, confused.

“I mean, I wasn’t really planning on something like this happening, so I didn’t bring any…” The blush is back, and Walter has to force himself to focus on her words instead of the shape of her lips. “Do you… have… any?”

“What?”

She gives him a pointed, yet shy look. “Protection?”

From what? Is his first thought, which is quickly followed by, Oh, right – condoms.

Shit. When was the last time he’d needed one of those? There’d been an assigned fling with that governor a few years back, but it’s not like they needed to worry about contraceptives and changelings are immune to most human diseases.

“I… don’t. No.” His shoulders slump. “It’s, uh, been a while and I didn’t think – “

Barbara’s fingers twitch, determinedly. “Are you clean?”

That perks him up. “Yes.”

“Okay, well…” She bites her lip and waggles her eyebrows, and shoves his pants over his hips. “I’m on the pill, so we’re all good.”

(they are not all good)

[hosannan]

Deserve it. She deserved it. There's a quiet mantra that plays in her head, if any. Nanna deserved a time where the night felt young, and every interaction ran down her throat like ambrosia. He was always the first and the most astoundingly faithful in her abilities, though there were many an evening where she had to recline into a hole in the wall to collect herself. Perhaps that was what it was like when she was at the forefront, holding up his flag with stalwart faith in his abilities. Sometimes they said things as truths until they became truths. Sometimes the sky was blue.

"...Well, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. You know?" Her smile sprouted like a dandelion through the cracks, weathering tar and storm-front. The relief she felt upon him fleshing out his thoughts was palpable. It was like he made a wish on her— like he trusted the process. "...I love you, so I'd much rather you be happy." It felt so natural to say that, now that she had become more accustomed to the way they fit together. Hugging at the lines, verbally and non-verbally, like their shapes were meant to complement.

With a slow toss and skirt turn, she urged him to circle back with her in rhythm to the orchestra. One step, two step, turn. Three step, four step, turn. The balls of her feet met the floor first, before she angled back onto her heels with his body as her frame. To lead, was to trust the process. "Yes! I remember reading up on this..." She tuned her ear to the cello, flowing smoothly between verses. "The low notes denote autumn in Jugdral, as the seasons call for a change of the sun." She bent her elbow elegantly, arching her back ever slightly to the drop at the end of the verse.

Though the song started slow, she could swear for the life of her that the first third was a tribute to transition. And the second-- There was a quick knock of the temple blocks and cymbals, like the rattling of a horse carriage. CLICK, CLACK, CLOCK. The steps changed, snapping partners to and fro, ankles crossing. And the violins fell into a tremble of anticipation.

"A good job...?" She felt at odds with the statement, though the guilt was all in her head. "Were you hoping for something? Father and Miranda... The fact that you have been reaching out to them at all should be considered a wonderful thing, no?"

Nanna didn't deny how difficult it was to navigate their complexities, especially with their predilection for keeping their hearts safely locked away. "Even I have found it hard sometimes. That is, to meet eye-to-eye and heart-to-heart."

Swansong { Leif & Nanna

[aziraphales-library]

I'd love to recommend "Of Hummingbirds and Albatross" by BabyHoldMyFlower! It's their first fanfic ever posted and it's astoundingly good! The terrifying vulnerability of accidental confession! The shocking revelation of reciprocated love! An incredibly good NSFW ending! It's got it all!

Of course love!

Of Hummingbirds and Albatross by BabyHoldMyFlower

How do you tell a person you want to press your foreheads together and feather kisses along their hairline? How do you tell a person you want to watch them arch their neck as you take them into your mouth, or feel their fingers in your hair as you suck kisses into their soft belly? He doesn’t feel like that’s a thing you tell your best friend after 6,000 years. He’d like to shrug it off. Can’t. He’s trying too hard to keep from snapping his fingers and miracling away all of Aziraphale’s clothes in one fell swoop so that he’s naked and glowing in the soft light.

Or

Crowley is starting to fall apart after Armageddon and needs someone to hold him together.

~Mod M

[patricianandclerk]

Replete and Ponderous

Aziraphale has a kink.

Crowley thinks it's funny, but that doesn't mean he's not going to indulge it to the nines. For @azfellandco.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed against Crowley’s mouth, and Crowley smiled, pushing the angel’s hair out of his eyes, where a few strands had come away from his bun. It had started out loose, but rhythmic activity had rendered it a mess, and Crowley wondered what it would be like to have the angel’s hair untied entirely, to grab him with a fistful of it and see him writhe.

“What, sweetheart?” Crowley asked, shifting the angle of his thrusts just slightly and thrilling at the way Aziraphale moaned, his lip quivering. “Not enough for you?”

“You really do— Oh, you really do blow my insatiability out of proportion, you know.”

“Do I? Did you or did you not, angel, beg me to have you until you were ripe as a new peach?”

“Yes, but—”

“To ride you ‘til your belly was, what was it, replete and ponderous?”

“Yes, but—”

“In short,” Crowley said, dragging his spit-slick thumb over Aziraphale’s clit and watching his stomach jump, feeling his cunt clench, “to fuck you until I couldn’t anymore?”

“I don’t know why I bother with poetry,” Aziraphale mumbled, his cheeks flushed an astoundingly rosy red, “you always render it rather moot when you cut through it with such direct language.”

“You don’t want me to be direct?” Crowley asked, with a little mock pout, and he rolled them over, tugging Aziraphale on top of him. Aziraphale cried out at the sudden shift of positions, and Crowley listened eagerly to the slight slosh inside him, where Crowley had filled him right up… He pressed his hand to the swell of Aziraphale’s belly, markedly rounder than usual, and he pressed down, feeling where the angel was taut and full. “How’s that, darling?”

“Oh, Crowley, you beast,” Aziraphale gasped out, shifting slightly on Crowley’s cock, his thighs a beautiful weight on Crowley’s own, and Crowley watched his face, watched his red cheeks, his heavy breathing, and he thrust up, delighting in the movement of Aziraphale’s belly, stuffed so full as it was. “Aah—”

“You see, angel, I think you lied,” Crowley purred, dragging his palms over Aziraphale’s stomach and making him whimper, but he was rolling his hips down against Crowley’s cock, taking what he wanted, what he needed, and Crowley let his cock grow just a little bit thicker, just enough to stretch—

Aziraphale heaved in a gasp, his pretty eyes going wide, and his fingers pressed tight against Crowley’s hairless chest, trying to grab for purchase there, as if that would steady him.

“Lied, dear boy?” Aziraphale asked, leaning forward, and he moaned at the way it pressed his belly between the two of them, putting pressure on the swell, but Crowley noted he didn’t pull back. So much pressure… “What about?”

“I don’t think it’s about my come, that’s all.”

“Oh, well, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, breathing laboured, eyes closed, “I’m sad to tell you, dear boy, the world, in fact, does not revolve around your ejaculate. Not even my world.”

“I think,” Crowley continued, ignoring the slight burn in his own cheeks, “that it’s about what my come can do.”

“And what’s that? Make flowers bloom? Mend furniture? Run for M.P. in Hackney North and Stoke Newington?”

“No,” Crowley said, trying not to laugh, “I think it’s because it could get you pregnant.”

Aziraphale froze, staring down at him, and then his face twisted, his lips parted, his eyes widening, his brows— Oh, yes. Yes, Crowley was familiar with that expression, and he moaned as he felt Aziraphale’s cunt clench around him, twitching as he came: he thrust up into Aziraphale as he did, squeezing the angel’s hips, his thighs, and he committed very little hitched, keening moan that the angel let out to memory, burying them deep where he’d be able to come back to them later (and come back to them he would, with frequency).

“That’s it, huh, angel?” Crowley asked, grabbing at Aziraphale’s arse, laughing when the angel jumped and gasped. “You want me to fill you up with my come until it takes.”

“No, Crowley, dear boy, you’re being patently – aah, Crowley! – patently ridiculous, I don’t know what you—”

“You do! You want me to breed you! You want me to get you pregnant!” Crowley crowed, pressing their bellies together and grinning savagely when Aziraphale choked. “Huh? Yeah? That it, angel? You want me to come deep inside you, keep it stuffed up in you, make you fat and heavy and pregnant with it? They’d really know there was a demon on top of you then, wouldn’t they, carrying my infernal—”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale wailed, and Crowley held his tongue, watching him, but Aziraphale only whined and smacked his chest. “No, don’t stop talking, I just can’t get enough of you into me like this, I want to go back—”

“You want me to take you on your hands and knees?”

“Please,” Aziraphale said plaintively, and Crowley let him get up, falling forward on his forearms, although the little whimper he let out when Crowley’s cock slid out of him was more than gratifying. Crowley was up and behind him within a few moments, fucking into Aziraphale again in one smooth shift, and Aziraphale moaned, his back arching, and like this, his belly hanging down, Crowley could hear it, could hear the wet shift of his come inside the angel, could see the way it swung, just a little, and he couldn’t help but feel a little hot under the collar himself, imagining Aziraphale with a belly just like this, all the time, all the time—

He lay kisses all over the angel’s back, between his shoulders, against the blades, against the back of his neck as he pistoned his hips, and was all but babbling as he went on, “Sss’that what you want, angel? Be nice and fertile for me? Let me get you pregnant, look after you like I look after my plants?”

“My dear, I should hope you’d treat me a lot better than you treat your plants,” Aziraphale moaned.

“What, you don’t want me to take the spray bottle and get you right here?” He gave a particularly vicious thrust, and Aziraphale’s laughter was muffled into the mattress before it trailed off into another moan. “No, no, I know, sweetheart, you don’t need watering, you just need filling up.”

“My dear—”

“Breed you, angel,” Crowley said, biting the back of Aziraphale’s neck and feeling his whole body shudder. “Fill you up with me, fuck you ‘til you can’t walk straight and then watch you waddle when this belly blows right up again—”

He was grabbing at it, not too roughly, but just grabbing, squeezing a little, and Aziraphale put more of his weight on one of his arms, the other coming up to land on top of Crowley’s hand, both their palms against the side of his stomach, and he could hear Aziraphale gasping, hear his tight little noises, feel him jump, twitch, hear every single noise…

“I’m going to,” Aziraphale gasped out, “I’m going to again, Crowley, I need, I want—”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Crowley asked, nipping at his ear, the hand that wasn’t tangled with Aziraphale’s stroking up his back. “What can I give you, make you happy?”

“Oh, please keep talking,” Aziraphale said breathlessly, “and my— I can’t reach my cl— Can you…?”

“Sure I can, sure I can,” Crowley promised, and he shifted his angle again, laying kisses over Aziraphale’s back as he reached his spare hand underneath, pushing underneath Aziraphale’s belly, and that made it move, made the flesh give just a little bit less than it usually would, so full as he was, and Aziraphale whimpered. “That’s what I’m gonna do, angel, my beautiful angel, gonna make you as replete and ponderous as you want, gonna stick a plug in you, keep my come in you ‘til you can’t stand it anymore, let everyone think I’ve already got you pregnant, with everything I have stuffed in you, the way you’re toddling around—”

It wasn’t so spectacular as the last one: Aziraphale sighed, this time, and he didn’t feel so urgent as he rode through it, but Crowley couldn’t help but grin, nipping his satisfaction up the length of Aziraphale’s back, gently playing over Aziraphale’s clit as he rode it through, making sure it wasn’t too oversensitive.

“You ready, angel?” Crowley asked, and Aziraphale nodded, then sighed again as Crowley came, grunting and closing his eyes tight shut as his grip tightened, feeling the pressure dissipate as his cock pulsed, felt Aziraphale take him in.

They fell to the side, after, and when Crowley moved to pull away, to go get Aziraphale something to drink, maybe a little something to eat, and a wash cloth, he caught hold of Crowley’s wrist.

“You said,” he said, his cheeks pink, “you said, erm—” He trailed off, and Crowley watched him, pressing his nose into Aziraphale’s hair, and nuzzling it.

“Yeah, angel, I know. You don’t really want to get pregnant, it’s just a game, just talk. You haven’t even got a uterus, right? Or Fallopian pipes, or any of the rest?”

“Fallopian tubes,” Aziraphale corrected him. “Fallopian pipes, indeed, it’s not plumbing, Crowley. And— No, no, that’s not what I was going to say, although, er, you’re quite right. Very much just a game. No, just… Er, well, that is to say—”

“Ssspit it out, angel.”

“You said you’d put a plug in me,” Aziraphale said. Spoilt brat, Crowley's angel was.

“You know what you are, angel?” Crowley asked, in his most long-suffering tone.

“The love of your life, your husband, your most beloved one?”

“A pest. You’re a pest.” He finished this sentence by blowing a raspberry against Aziraphale’s neck, and the angel laughed and struggled, squirming, but Crowley conjured a plug into his palm all the same, and held it up for Aziraphale’s perusal. There was a moment’s pause, and then, in a very good – if he said so himself – impression of Aziraphale’s own voice, Crowley said, “My dear, could you make it just a smidge bigge—”

“You’re so cruel to me, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, pouting just slightly, and Crowley laughed, widening it a little before he pulled out, gently sliding it into place, so that the flared base was flush against the angel, stretching him nice and wide, keeping everything in.

“Am I, angel?” Crowley asked. “Am I cruel?”

“Dastardly, my dear.”

“Good,” Crowley said, and kissed his cheek. “You want some of those truffles in the fridge?”

“Oh, yes, I would love some, and— some cocoa?”

“Your wish is my command.”

   My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

[eliannaa]

Caffeine

A RTG fanfic

Summary: Isobel Laurel kept on convincing herself that those were just simple coffee dates with his ex-husband, but she can't fool herself forever.

Author's notes: I do not own RTG, it is writtern by beeyotch on wattpad

Rated M for mature content.

Those were just small talks over coffee, she tried to convince herself. Just innocent escapades while reminiscing things that happened in the past. Sure, they were had their history but it’s all in the past. Sure, she had already remembered him, how they were, but she cannot undo things. She wouldn’t want to. She has her Sandro. And that is enough… or is it?

Perhaps it is not, she admitted, shivering, outside a bachelor pad. Praying to heavens that he is home unlike those days when she had to stand for hours and go home dismayed.

He married his work after all, she giggled, feeling light. She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh before pressing a finger to his doorbell.

“Please be home. Please be ho—“ the door swung open revealing a dishevelled man in his naked glory. He had his white pants on, but that’s not the point.

“Isobel?!” he exclaimed as if seeing an apparition—a soaked and tipsy apparition.

She gave him a small smile. “Hi.”

“Jesus, why are you wet?”

“Because you’re dry?” she answered dumbly and giggled again. “There was an outpour. I did not watch the news.”

“And why are you drunk?” he added and pulled her by her arms inside.

“Why aren’t you?” she asked back and laughed. “I’m not, though. Just a glass of beer. Relax, Doctor, I drove here.”

“Fuck.” He whispered while trying to sit her still on his couch but she kept on melting down like a Jell-O, clinging to his broad shoulders as if her life depends on it.

“Yes, let’s.” she replied on her sultriest voice. He stiffened and looked at her droopy eyes. It’s probably the alcohol, he chastised himself, get a grip, Sean Denver!

“Let’s do that, fuck”, the vixen added

Before he lost his cool and jump unto her like a wild animal, he stood up and went inside his room to rummage for some dry clothes and a towel to dry her up.

“Damn, why does she have to show up in her most vulnerable and alluring state?” he exclaimed to no one and pulled his hair in frustration.

How long has it been? 20 years? Right. 20 antagonizing years of thirsting over her… of longing to feel her silky skin and have a taste of her sweetness.

Then, a wave of guilt came rolling unto him. He should’ve been more patient. He shouldn’t have been too greedy to ask for more than she could give. Things would’ve been different now. There were plenty of times when he would blame everything to himself. It was his entire fault.

Things happened, things that couldn’t be undone. He had Sammie, his sweet princess and she had Sandro, her treasured son.

Considering all things said and done, Isobel Lyana Laurel is still the girl he loved and will continue to love with all of him. Yes, he’s not a Saint. There will always be the constant longing but he chose to content himself with just a glimpse of her and her life.

Just hearing her sweet laughs is enough to keep him going. He would be very careful with her.

He would wait for her even if it takes a lifetime.

Sean’s train of thought was interrupted when his door opened, revealing an almost naked, smiling Isobel.

Before he could formulate any logica

Before he could formulate any logical thought, she kissed him good and hard just like the way she always do.

Her warm little hands were in his hair, grabbing and tugging in sync with her rosebud of a mouth. He could smell her sweat of frustrations and a hint of alcohol, thighs wrapped around his waist as her moans echoed down his throat.

“Isobel, Isobel… baby, wait.” He protested and stumbled upon the edge of his bed and fell on it, bring his frustrated vixen on top of him. He could feel her tremble, or was it him?

He tried to align his messy thoughts but all he could feel was her, her warm hands, her sweet demanding lips, her wonderful cries…

“Baby, please, let’s not do something you’ll regret when you’re sober”, he whispered looking into her orbs and found himself drowning unto them.

He shook his head when her face turned sour, obviously thinking unnecessary thoughts.

“And yes, I want you. For the longest time, I do. But I wouldn’t take advantage of your drunken stupor, baby, if we do something like this, we’ll do it when we’re both thinking straight.”

The corner of her lips began to tug upwards, eyelids dropping down showing a lopsided grin. Her hair was wet, her eyes bloodshot, her nose swollen red and she is still the most beautiful thing her eyes ever laid upon.

But of course, that is a well-known fact, ever since he saw her under that lamppost. She smiled some more and touched his temple, then traced the line of his brow.

“Silly. Doctor. Sean”, she uttered, planting a rainbow of kisses on his face. She kissed him fully on the lips. Once. Twice. Thrice… and latched on his lower lip like it’s her favourite candy.

“One, I just had beer at Kitty’s but I’m not wasted. I even managed to drive here. Two, I want more than these silly coffee dates but I’m scared because after all the things that happened, I don’t deserve you anymore—“

“Hush.” He placed a finger on his lips.

“I love you. No buts, I just do. And don’t talk like you’re the only one wronged, we both are. But it’s all in the past. And to me, you are more than enough. So much more than enough, Isobel. God. You have no idea. I just thought that we may be rushing things.”

Isobel snorted at his last statement. “Silly.” said she. “I love you, too. And we’re both almost fucking Fifty, how is that rushed?”

Her declaration left her dumbfounded. Damn, she’s just astoundingly gorgeous.

“Now, kiss me.” Sean obeyed her command, helpless against her eager face.

And he knew this was the beginning of something new, something amazing. “Isobel, fuck. My sweet Isobel. You’re home. Damn.”

She went there with his fingers first. Limbs splayed on his duvet, her skin shining with sweat from the glorious climax. Second with his teeth and tongue, devouring her swollen clit and shy dripping hole.

He had her crying his name, delirious from her high. Then he found himself underneath her, impatience written on her face, she straddled her hips.

“We can stop—“ “For the love of god, shush. I want this, I want you. Now.” His length was pressed against her belly, hard and ready. She held it and slid unto her, lips parted, revealing her swollen clit. He tried to hold her waist in attempt to stop her.

“There’s a condom in my drawe—oh!” “Too late.” She giggled and bit her lip feeling full and complete. He was inside her, balls deep and raw. She leaned in and kissed his neck. “At my age, I don’t think there is a need for that, anyway.” She whispered and his face flushed red in embarrassment. What a big baby! She thought.

She moaned, gripping him. Trying to get used to his size. It’s been ages. Damn. Then she moved up again, slowly letting him go, feeling herself hollowed missing him, then welcome him again inside as she moved down.

It stung a little but it didn’t hurt. It was a good hurt. She found a rhythm and arching her back, she found out she could press her clit against her pelvis on each down stroke.

“Oh, Sean, this is so good.” He was doing well, hanging in there until she rotated her hips, that’s when he knew, he’s doomed. He wouldn’t last long, no matter how he try but he will even though it killed him. He sat up straight and held her waist still.

“Baby, hold on. Sshh. I got you. That’s my girl.” He held her hands, stroking her hair, dropping hot kisses on her neck and collarbones. She sighed when he moved her slowly upwards and downwards, so slowly, it almost hurt. So slowly, she had her toes curl in pleasure.

“My gorgeous Isobel, your cunt is amazing. You are amazing.” His voice was low and soothing.

“Oh, god!” she cried out. He bent her back until she was laying on his bed, her eyes lost in passion and muscles tremble in excitement.

Now on top, he held her knees and pressed them on the mattress. He pulled his shaft and thrust with all his might. He couldn’t help but groan. She’s so tight. So warm. So soft. Unbelievably so.

He began his controlled pace, leaving her whimpering and clawing on his back.

“Sean, oh I think I’m—“ He kissed her full on the lips and quickened his pace. “I know baby, shh… I got you”

Minutes after, perhaps hours, she came, her insides gripping on him like vice, mouth hung open for a silent cry of pleasure, until then, Sean decided to let himself go, feeling his seed explode on her insides and flowing outside of her swollen hole.

“I love you, Isobel. Welcome home.” “I love you, Sean. I’m home.”