#or at least to flesh them out so that the few I do have could be full boxes.

[potential-fate]

well, good news men! I still remember how to add poses to poseboxes.

[deadbeandrop]

"average camp lazlo fan has 5 camp lazlo OCs" factoid actualy just statistical error. average camp lazlo fan has maybe 1 or 2 camp lazlo OCs. tumblr user syd deadbeandrop, who lives in cave & has at least 43, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[blkkizzat]

PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ 𝐌⛧𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑#𝟑 — 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

⛧ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: nov 8th, 8:48 am ⛧ 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞: tshirt with no panties + dubcon + edging + cunnalingus + squirting + backshots + brat!reader ⛧ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 3548

𝐧𝐧𝐧 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

A week into ‘No Nut November’ Toji already is feeling fidgety—not that he’d ever admit it.  No, he was going to win and prove to you he wasn’t like those other chumps you dated in the past, pussy couldn’t control a man like him. 

Yet a part of Toji has to know he is lying to himself. 

Otherwise why the hell did he get out of bed last night at 3 am, dick stiff as fuck, while your ass was still asleep?

The job Shiu gave him could have waited a few more hours for daylight to break at least. But laying in bed, wide-awake and fully bricked, Toji's cock nearly jumped out of his sweats when he swore you softly moaned his name in your sleep.

Fuck he could practically smell your pussy too! Toji couldn’t get the fuck outta that bed fast enough.

Speaking of jobs, he’d been taking more of them—anything to get him out of the house. Although he told you it was so you'd stop nagging him about bills—a big ol' lie.

Now, hours later after returning home, Toji steps out of the shower. Scoffing at his reflection, the grumpy look on his face is all thanks to his twitching hard-on practically waving back at him in the mirror. 

Annoyance simmered in his chest. Toji wanted to call the whole fuckin' thing off but his pride had taken a hit the moment you goaded him into this ridiculous challenge. Your smug, off-hand comment about how he’d 'fold like an omelet' if he attempted 'No Nut November' had sealed it.

He couldn’t let that remark just slide.

It had only been a week so far but a chore from the start. A foolish experiment neither of you were built for. Restraint had never been either of your strong suits—not when you could barely keep your hands off each other for a single day, let alone thirty.

Even three years into the relationship, that much hadn’t changed. He’d fucked you so often, so thoroughly, he knew your body as well as his own—a truth that made this self-imposed abstinence feel less like a challenge and more like torture.

Toji knew you were struggling through all of this too. The way your thighs pressed together when he casually manspread on the sofa the other day had been proof of it. You tried to play it cool but your eyes betrayed you, locked on his cock like you could melt the fabric of his pants with sheer willpower alone. Squirming in your seat, you made it painfully apparent how badly you wanted him buried inside you, stretching you open like only he could—yet you also refused to give in.

Unfortunately, you were both as stubborn as all hell. Neither of you willing to bend first, even if it was driving you both insane.

*CRASH*

Hearing the shattering of glass, a sound Toji recognizes far too well by now, he makes his way to the kitchen. 

Tsk—he’s told you over and over to just call for him when you want to reach the top shelf. 

“Mamas, that lil’ short stack ass of y'ers better not be up on that counter again. I told ya—”

Toji grins widely upon entering the kitchen.

“....heh, ya fucking slutty ass minx.”

Caught red-handed, you’re balancing on your tippy toes on the edge of the kitchen counter, with one leg hiked up on a spice shelf for extra leverage. However, Toji was far less concerned with the fact you disobeyed him now that he’s seen your state of undress. 

Like a starved predator his eyes rake ravenously over your exposed flesh—your entire ass and pussy poking out of one of his old t-shirts you often slept in. Toji licks his lips as he hones in on how even your puckered rear hole seems to clench tighter, sheepishly even, under his scrutiny.  

“And just what do ya think y’er doing, slut?”

Frozen mid-stretch, you’d whip your head back to see Toji. 

His arms are crossed over his broad, bare chest, still glistening with water droplets, giving him the appearance of a Greek god. The morning rays stream through the kitchen, casting a warm glow that highlights every chiseled inch of his body. The towel around Toji's waist hangs low, giving you a peek of the sleek black hairs leading down to—his completely bricked up erection aggressively poking through his towel. 

“Nah, eyes up here slut.”

Toji snaps his fingers and you manage to rip your eyes away in order to roll them back, not letting him get away with any sass.

“I’m hardly a slut for trying to cook breakfast, Toji.”

Finally getting your mixing bowl at the sacrifice of 3 others, you safely plant both feet on the countertop. 

“Nuh-uh, ya know what I fuckin’ mean, ma—heh, ain’t a slut but y’er tooting that fat ass up f’er me bare, knowing you shouldn’t even be up there in the first fuckin’ place." Toji's grin widens deviously. "I know y'er tyna tempt me lil' girl—so just give in. Just say ya want me t’ fuck ya mamas and I’ll do it.”

You bristle at his words—he had some nerve!

“As if! You’re the one who's been walking around with a loaded gun in your pants all week!”

“Yeah mama n’ ya been lookin’ at my dick like ya wanted me to bust this gun in ya for just as long.”

You fluster, caught. Thinking your drooling over the heavy cock in his pants had gone unnoticed, yet you were sorely mistaken.

“Now y’er walkin’ around without panties and in my shirts knownin’ what that fuckin’ does t’me—y'er not slick at all, ma”

Unfortunately, you don’t realize just how close to snapping Toji actually is as you stand your ground throwing more sass back at him.

“Get over yourself Toj! I’ll have you know I didn’t even have any last night either—you know the saying—gotta let her ‘breathe’.”

And that was the final straw. 

Your heart races seeing the darkened look in his eyes, not to mention the smirk on Toji's face is absolutely diabolical now. 

He’d woken up so early thinking he was going mad with arousal that he was manifesting you moaning for him and the smell of your sweet wet pussy only to realize you’d be practically advertising yourself to him all night—fuckin' taunting him to take a peek. “Oh? She’s having trouble breathing, my favorite girl? Well then, looks like that stuffy lil’ cunt needs some mouth-to-mouth then, mamas.”

Before you can blink, your vision blurs as Toji moves with blinding speed, his Heavenly Restriction amplifying every motion to an imperceptible degree. Manhandling you roughly, Toji splays you out on your stomach across the marble counter of the kitchen island, sending whatever are on it crashing to the ground with the others you'd broken.

You don’t have to ask Toji ‘what in the hell he thinks he’s doing?’ as you figure it out as soon as you feel the baggy t-shirt fabric bunching at your upper back and his breath ghosting over your bare cunt.

Toji isn't surprised that you are already moist and leaking just from him calling you a slut a few times, your slutty lil cunt would get soaked for far less.

Toji anticipated that though and he is pleased that he can see the slick glossing your pussy lips as he pulls back a bit to admire the view. You looked like a freshly prepared breakfast platter to Toji, he didn’t need you cookin’ anything else either—just heat up that tight pussy of yours for him and he'd take his fill.

Placing a tender kiss on your ass cheek the gesture is almost an appology for whats to come as Toji quickly follows it up with a searing bite into you squishy flesh. Not leaving the other lonely, Toji graces gracing your other ass cheek with an open palmed spank. You're trying not to squeal as he kneads your supple skin between his fingers, squeezing the fat of your ass posessively. However, Toji is displeased at you trying to hold back your cries and for that you're spanked harshly again. The force leaves a handprint burning in your skin as the sting pushes more gooey nectar out of your cunt.

“Nah, none of that holding back now slutty mamas, ya wanted this teasin’ me like that now I want ya to scream f'er me.”

Panting you attempt to resist him again, wanting to push yourself up off the counter but it's impossible when your feet aren’t even touching the floor. Your toes ghosts over the ground as you try to wiggle free. Yet your flimsy protests didn’t last long as your limbs go rigid once Toji peels back your sopping folds exposing your runny, twitchy pussy hole to him. 

“Tsk, see that ,mama? Only a week without my mouth on ‘er and this silly slut of a pussy forgot how to breathe. Look at her strugglin, beggin' to be resuscitated.”

Keening lustfully at his lewd accusation, you chew on your plump bottom lip as his large rough tongue takes the first slow n’ savory swipe over your soaking pussy lips. 

You couldn’t hold back any longer.

“C’mon, p-please eat me daddy, To—JIIIIIIAHH!”

Your begging is cut short as Toji latches his mouth to your fat cunt, tongue diving into your pretty peach like a man starved. 

Oh okay, fuck! Why were you holding yourself back from this again?!

Real nasty with it, Toji is literally gargling on the juices seeping steadily from your creamy cunt. Slurping up your arousal like a man parched, Toji is unhinged and feral as he spits your fluids it back into your pussy before lapping it all up again with a deep swirl of his tongue.

Achring instinctively, your hands flail in an attempt to push Toji's head away, but all you manage to do is tangle up your fingers in his damp raven locks. Instead of dislodging him, your efforts have him burrowing his face deeper between your thighs, smothering himself in your creamy core. Toji's thick tongue continues its prodding, flicking and stroking—mapping every inch of you as if to make sure your pussy hadn't changed in the week he'd gone without her. Releasing a deep guttural hum inside you, vibrations course through your body as his own sloppy groans of pleasure mix with your gasping cries for mercy. The sensation is overwhelming, and just as you think you can’t take any more, his fingers find your swollen clit, strumming on it in a pace too cruel that only intensifies the pleasurable ache within.

“Fahh-HAHH!”

As white edges your vision and you begin falling into the throws of ecstasy��the first orgasm you had in a week—however, you wouldn't experience the sweet nirvana you crave just yet thanks to Toji cruelly ripping it away. 

Smacking his lips with a satisfied sigh like he finally had his fill from a water fountain, Toji dislodges his face from your puffy and drenching pussy. You don’t even need to see Toji's face as you can practically hear the smirk plastered across his lips, still dripping with your juices messily stained all around his mouth and flowing down his neck.

“Admit it—”

Standing, Toji taps his cock on your sticky pussy lips, hypersensitive now from the way he’d just been aggressively munching on her like full-course meal. The knob of his cockhead, flushes red and angry as it pokes into your slippery entrance. The ring of muscle slowly opening wider to accommodate the large girth that threatened to impale your pretty lil' pussy fully at any moment.

“—admit you got that short slutty as of y’ers up on that counter to test me—and I’ll put it in.”

The fact is Toji was near his limit anyway and likely would have snapped later on that night if you didn’t try to tempt him like this. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if it was intentional—but he didn’t care at this point because truth be told he’d been looking for any little excuse to bend you over like this for the past 2 days.

“NNNGHH—not fair! TojiiiiiiEEEE!”

You pout, tears on the edges of your eyes as he delivers more smack to your jiggly cheeks, enjoying the way they ripple under his hand.

“Say what I wanna hear slutty mamas… n’ m’gonna give fat ma here what she's been craving all week…”

Toji exhales sharply, his breaths uneven as he watches globs of his pearlescent pre-cum ooze indiscriminately from his tip. Toji strokes the base of his shaft tightly, a calculated effort to control himself as the mere sensations and sounds of his tip only gliding against your soft squelchy pussy lips threatens to undo him entirely.

You could almost feel the desperation radiating off of him. He wanted this just as much as you did—asshole. 

Although if anything, the truth is Toji broke first. However, while a part of you wanted to fight him on that, a bigger part of you couldn’t care less. Laid up on the counter with no leverage you knew he'd turn you out into his pretty lil’ cocksleeve if you did as he asked—and you did miss him fucking you like his personal pocket pussy.

“Hnnnn—FINE!” 

You glance back over your shoulder at Toji, sweat beading on your furrowed brow, your bottom lip jutting out as you say the words that you know will have him pureeing your guts as soon as you do.

“Daddy, *sniff* m’sorwy m’just a bratty slut who just wants her tiny pussy fucked—m’so horny n’ I want you s’bad… n’thats why I got on the counter to show you how much she m-missed you!”

Like the little temptress you are, you wiggle your ass up towards him as best you can with your feet dangling. Toji barks with laughter at the site.

“Heh, now was that so hard slutty mamas?”

Yet Toji couldn't delay andy longer, the little composure Toji had in the moment is lost as he thrusts himself deeply into you with a fierce snap of his hips.

The weight of him leaning into you and stretching your greedy hole that hadn’t been fucked in a week knocked all the air out of you—you couldn’t even scream. A paralyzing shiver jolts down your spine that reaches all the way down to your pussy, tightening enough it threatens to break Toji's dick in two.

“Fuuuck, mama. You’re s’tight, relax. Ngnnh—never doing this cuck ass shit again though baby….I’ll fuckin’ kill someone first.”

Toji’s voice carried a rare, almost whiny edge as he grits his teeth—muttering something along the lines of, ‘pussy gon’ kill me’.

You’re not able to think about that too hard though as Toji doesn’t remain still inside you for long. Jerking back, Toji pistons his hips into you, growling like an animal in heat. 

Toji feels like a fuckin teenager again the way he's leaking precum into you. Gritting his teeth, Toji couldn't have imagained before this that a lack of pussy for 7 days would have his knees threatening to buckle. 

Fuckin' hell, he wanted to cum already. 

Lifting your hips up off the counter with his massive hands, your body ragdolls as Toji's sharp bullying hips completely turn your pelvis into mush. Toji's eyes dim to a dangerous forest green as he watches his cock be consumed by the thick supple lips of your pussy, disappearing deeply in your runny cunny over and over.

He'd gladly die like this if given the choice.

And you aren't fairing much better.

“HUUU, F—”

Words fail you as drool seeps from your slackened jaw, your brain being fucked completely smooth under the relentless onslaught. You can’t hold onto anything to ground you, even if the slippery marble countertop offered any kind of leverage. Toji’s thick, veined shaft scrapes mercilessly over that tender, spongy spot that has you seeing stars. When he bottoms out, slamming against your cervix, his balls slap against your swollen clit, sending bolts of white-hot electricity up your spine—like Toji’s sole intent is to shatter it and you entirely.

Your broken cries intermingle with Toji’s throaty growls, each one more primal than the last, mirroring the raw hunger driving his movements. His broad, muscular hands lift your hips effortlessly, spreading your soft flesh wide as his thumbs press insistently against the taut rim of your asshole, teasing and massaging it open.

A strangled raspy moan escapes your lips nearly choking you when his thumbs plunge inside your ass to hook and stretch it wide.

“P-Pweasee, n-not there D-Daddy—SHIIIIIIIT!”

You sob, your body trembling under the overwhelming sensations. The mix of burning desire and the relentless pressure makes you feel as though he might actually break you. It had been a while since Toji fucked you there, and you weren’t sure you’d survive the intensity of pleasure now after being dry a whole week.

Toji doesn’t answer immediately, his silence heavy and deliberate. When you finally muster the strength to glance back, your breath catches as you see him spit a thick loogie directly into your asshole. “NNNN, Tojiiiish!” Your voice pitches higher as his thumbs toy with your puckered rim, stretching it an indecent amount as he pushes it open before guiding it close again, only to repeat the process with more spit dripping into the tight opening. Before long, your ass is doused and full of his spit, just as your pussy is stuffed with his cock and pre.

Toji's other hand clamps down on your hip, gripping tightly as he uses it to drive you onto his cock, hitting your devastatingly sensitive spots with unrelenting precision. The wet, obscene squelch of your cum mixes with the sharp, rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the room filled with the sinful symphony of your high-pitched moans and his raw, gravelly grunts.

On the brink, your body coils tighter with every thrust, every teasing stretch of his thumbs violating your puckered hole. The tension builds unbearably, pushing you closer and closer to that euphoric edge.

Toji is close too—you can feel it in the erratic, almost feral rhythm of his thrusts, his desperation mounting as he hurtles toward the edge. His grip tightens, nails digging half-moons into your sweaty skin as he pounds into you with rough, unrelenting force. A frenzied energy drives Toji, as if the only release that could satisfy him lies buried deep in your slobbering cunt. His balls draw up tight, his blood boiling in his veins as his body ruts into you on pure, unthinking instinct.

A helpless groan escapes his lips, raw and unrestrained, followed by a soft, unexpected whimper—so quiet it's almost undetectable by your ears but you must have heard it because your pussy pulses at the sound. Intoxicating, Toji's desperation laid bare, every ounce of control unraveling as he chases his release.

For the first time in ages, Toji feels disconnected from himself, his body reacting before his mind. Therefore, he doesn’t even register his release until he hears you scream, your walls clamping around him like a vice as his hot seed floods into you.

Your orgasm washes over you shortly after, your squirt gushing around making more of a mess of your kitchen island as the euphoric tension boils over.  

Toji lowers your hips gently onto the counter removing his thumbs from you, bracing himself on his forearms to keep from crushing you. His breath is thick and swampy against your neck as he languidly rocks into you, until he pumps every drop of cum into your slutty lil pussy.

Stilling in you, Toji closes his eyes.

Fuck, he’d not cum that hard since the first time he fucked you.

Yet it's you who eventually breaks the silence.

“Y-You came before me, ‘ol man..”

Wearing a lopsided smirk, you lay exhausted and completely spent on the counter, appreciating how cool marble always stayed in this moment basking in your victory. You moan softly as Toji grumbles, getting up and pulling out of you causing your still sensitive walls to push out his plug of cum from your pussy— and you can feel it flowing down your shapely thighs.

“...so what I said earlier means fuck all, you know you technically lost No Nut November first huh, Daddy?” 

You're radiantly smug, yet your victory was short-lived.

“Heh, you think we’re done? Don’t ya think I’m owed a lil’ more?”

Toji's voice, low and gravelly, sprouts goosebumps racing across your sticky skin. His cock, drowned in the mingled evidence of your arousals, swipes along the curve of your ass. His tip feels even more engorged than before as it presses insistently against your rear hole—that's still fluttering helplessly in the absence of his fingers.

Yet not leaving for long, his thumbs return to trail possessively over the taut ring of muscle, spreading it open a lil' wider to stuff his girthy fat cockhead in. 

“Now mamas, ya know I’m a gamblin’ man. Best two outta, three..."

A smirk curls on Toji’s lips, as he can feel the shudder convulse all the way down your spine, puckering your ass tigher around his cockhead. 

"...I didn’t spend all that time spreadin' this cute lil’ stink hole back here for my own amusement, eh?”

blkkizzat ©2023-2024 no ai, reposting, plagiarism or translation allowed.

𝐚/𝐧: next 12/14, 6:00 a.m. PST queued ryomen sukuna toji daddy is a big pushover for your holes<3 lmk what you think! reblogs and comments make my ass tingle all nice <3

[strawberri-blonde]

Yours to Command - Jacaerys Velaryon

Summary: you don’t tolerate disrespect towards your betrothed and in return he shows you how much he appreciates it.

Warning: smuttttt also I used an app for the Valyrian so if it’s wrong my bad.

Masterlist

“He’s nothing but a bastard-.” The Lord couldn’t even finish his sentence as you drew your sword, crafted from the finest steel, and slashed him across the face from ear to lip.

The room erupted in gasps of horror and surprise as you cut into the man’s flesh. The Lord had been boasting to your stepmother, Queen Rhaenyra, and your father, Daemon, about how you should marry his eldest son, dismissing Jacaerys as an option because of his infamous brown hair. What the Lord didn’t know was that you loved Jacaerys' distinguished curls and his soft brown eyes.

“Watch your tongue as you speak of my betrothed.” Your sharp words echoed throughout the large hall as crimson dripped onto the floor and you approached the fear-stricken man. “For not only is he someone I hold dear to my heart, but he is also your Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and wields a sword better than I.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.” Queen Rhaenyra’s voice cut through your enraged fog, and you felt a familiar pair of hands grip your waist.

You leaned into Jace’s grasp and turned to the queen, who didn’t look angry. Her eyes had a smugness to them, but her face remained professional. Your father, on the other hand, couldn’t contain his smirk, proud of his eldest daughter.

“My queen, I hold you in the highest respect,” you announced, bowing your head to her, then turned back to the crowd of men. “But I don’t tolerate disrespect towards my beloved.” Your eyes narrowed like a viper's with a sharp tongue. “Let this fool be my last warning to you all. As his wound scars over, I want you all to see what the least I can do, because next time I’ll take a note from my father's book and let you keep your tongue.”

The room remained still and quiet as you made sure to look every person in the eye, asserting your seriousness. “Jacaerys, please take your betrothed to her chambers, and we’ll discuss her actions,” she spoke mainly to you, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she wasn’t mad. She was proud that someone stood up for her firstborn.

Jace pressed you against his front, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his scent washing over you and soothing your rage. “Come, my love,” he whispered softly, his voice calming you, though your hard exterior remained unmoved. Keeping a death stare fixed on the bloody face of the Lord, you allowed Jace to lead you out of the council chamber with a gentle hand on your lower back.

As you both walked down the hallway, silence enveloped you, broken only by the clicking of your shoes against the stone floor. Finally, you let out a loud sigh, releasing your frustrations, and glanced up at Jace, who was walking to your right. His attention was already on you, his lips curled into a knowing smile. He was used to your angry outbursts, especially since he knew he was one of the few (besides your late mother) who could calm you.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly as you both continued the long walk to your wing where your and your sisters' rooms were. “I know you can handle it yourself.” Your blood boiled as you thought of the way the older men looked at him, trying to offer their puny excuse of sons your way. “If I offended you, I apologize.”

A chuckle escaped from the Prince's mouth, making you pause in your step. With quick movements, Jace gently pushed you against the wall between two columns and pressed a heated kiss to your lips. You gasped, and he bit down on your parted bottom lip. “Please never apologize for caring for me,” he murmured, his lips barely leaving yours as his eyes bore into your own. “It doesn’t offend me knowing I have a strong woman by my side, willing to cut anyone down for speaking ill of my name.” Jace kissed you again, and you pressed your hands on his chest, gripping the black tunic with gold embroidery sewn into the fabric.

He pulled away to mumble, “I’m proud to be yours. And I can’t wait until you’re my wife.” His words made you melt like butter because you couldn’t wait either. You smiled up at him with sultry eyes.

“I can’t wait to call you husband.” Jace smiled brightly, pressing you back in for a kiss, making both of you smile into the act like grinning fools.

The kiss brought on a sense of excitement that sent chills down your spine, and a soft, almost imperceptible moan escaped your lips when his hands began to caress your waist.

Hearing your soft moans, Jacaerys dragged his tongue along your full bottom lip, making you part your mouth and allowing his tongue to slip in. Your moans grew embarrassingly louder, but they only drove the prince to kiss you harder.

His hands lowered to your hips, and without warning, he picked you up and pinned you to the wall. Your dress slid up to your thighs, allowing you to lock your ankles together, pulling him close until his groin matched your own. The stone wall was cold against your back, but with your betrothed pressing you against his hard, hot body, you had no complaints. Instead, you arched your back, making his stiffness rub against your core, leaving you craving more of this. More of him.

You could feel Jacaerys breath catch in his throat at the feeling of your body against his, and a small growl escaped his lips as his hips began to grind into yours, and his grip on your hips tightened as his eyes met yours, filled with desire.

“Y/n…we shouldn’t be doing this,” He murmured, but his body continued to betray his words, pressing against you more firmly. “Anyone could see us…”

You slipped a hand behind his head as heat pool in your abdomen and you tugged on his curls making his close his eyes in a short bliss. Your lips curled as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth bucking your hips to add friction while your mouth trailed down to his neck pressing mouth open kissed to his pearly skin. “Ivestragī zirȳ ūndegon skoros nykeā sīr called bastard iksos capable hen.” Let them see what a so called bastard is capable of.

A low, almost guttural growl escaped from the Prince’s lips. “Hang va issa, beloved.” Jace secured his grip on you while your hands wrapped around his shoulders, fists clinging to his curls for dear life. “Open,” he commanded. If it were anyone but him or the queen, you would’ve laughed in their face, but for Jacaerys, you’d gladly walk off a cliff if he so desired. Hang on my beloved.

"I'm yours to command, my prince," you responded, your voice low and breathless. You parted your lips, but Jace couldn't help himself and pressed his open mouth to yours. With one hand, he raised your dress higher, his fingers slightly grazing your covered heat before ripping your stockings and excusing your cotton underwear.

When he pulled away, you immediately whimpered but were silenced by his pointer and middle finger shoving their way into your mouth. Your eyes widened at first, but as his brown eyes bore into yours, you began to suck his digits and even swirled your tongue around them. "By the gods, you’re perfect," he began. "And you’re all mine."

He slowly pulled his hand away from your mouth, making sure to caress your bottom lip. With haste, he reached under your bunched-up fabric to tease you slightly by gliding his soaked fingers against the already wet fabric of your undergarments.

"My Prince, please." Jace kissed your lips, hushing you as he pulled your coverings aside and pressed against your mound, sliding into your slick folds. He caressed you up and down, teasing your clit down to your entrance. "Gods."

Your head tilted back, hitting the stone wall in ecstasy as his rough fingers began to circle around your pearl. This wasn’t the first time Jace had touched you there. You both hadn’t been all that patient with waiting until you were wed, but as the honorable gentleman that he is, you hadn’t consummated anything because Jace really wanted to wait until the wedding night. However, that didn’t stop you both from getting your pleasure from other things. If it were up to you, the dragon rider would’ve already had the best ride of his life.

"Jace." You moaned out as he began the motion of figure eights, making your legs shake in delight.

"I love you like this, Princess." His hot breath hit your face as he leaned over you and kissed your parted lips. "When we wed, I plan on taking you in every nook and corner of this palace until you're full of my seed." Your cunt pooled at his words, and Jace could feel how wet you were becoming by the slushing sound his fingers made against your throbbing nerve. "You want that, my beloved?"

Loud moans spilled from your swollen lips as you helplessly nodded, knowing that if you didn’t respond in some way, he’d stop. “Yes,” you managed to get out as your abdomen tightened and your breath hitched, feeling that familiar, eye-blinding sensation start to form. “I can’t wait to be full of your children, letting everyone know what you did to me.” Jace kissed down your neck and sucked on that one spot that made you weak in the knees. “And I want them all to know how much I liked it.”

The prince sucked harder, and without realizing it, you began to yank at his curls, making his desire burn more intensely, especially as your moans increased and became shorter, signaling your very close end. “Cum syt issa, issa jorrāelagon milk issa fingers rūsīr aōha sweetness nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon ao withering isse pleasure.” Cum for me, my love milk my fingers with your sweetness I want to see you withering in pleasure.

As his fingers continued their steady pace, rubbing against your clit, and his mouth worked against your neck, your body tensed in delight as your orgasm washed over you like a dragon's fire. No words left your parted lips, and you were grateful that Jace pressed his against yours in a kiss, because after that intense pleasure, you just wanted to be engulfed by nothing but him.

"I love you," you whimpered, making his boyish grin return to his face as he slightly pulled his head back to look at you. His hand slipped out from your undergarments, and he pulled your dress back down to cover your exposed thighs, keeping your skin hidden from view.

He sucked his fingers clean before he spoke. “Issa prūmia exists outside issa chest kesrio syt nyke’ve given ziry naejot ao se moment nyke tegon issa laesi va ao.” The brightest smile spread across your face, and as the two of you kissed, engrossed in the love surrounding you, someone clearing their throat made you both pull away like two deer caught by dogs. My heart exists outside my chest because I’ve given it to you the moment I land my eyes on you.

“Aōha valyrīha emagon gotten rōvēgrior, nephew.” Jace's face turned crimson from embarrassment, unlike the oversized pig of a man who had insulted him earlier, whose face was red with blood. Your Valyrian has gotten excellent, nephew.

You glared at your father, Daemon, as the prince carefully set you back on your feet and stood in front of you, nudging you behind him, between the columns. "But could you not corrupt my daughter before the wedding ceremony?" His knowing smirk could be seen over your beloved's shoulder, and he stood tall with his hands laced in front of him.

“Daemon-“ Jace began but your father raised a hand to stop him.

"Please just take her to her chambers before the Queen decides not to marry you a week from today." This news had you clenching Jace's hand, and he smiled down at you because the date hadn't been set yet. "And act surprised when she announces the news to you both, and please, no public displays of your love at least until after the wedding." Daemon shot them a sinful grin before nodding them off and walking past them.

"A week," you whispered with excitement, pulling Jacaerys into a loving kiss, which he returned with just as much enthusiasm. He grabbed your waist, began to pull you from the wall, and spun you around, making both of you laugh with joy.

Hoped you all enjoyed it’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I’m in my Jace era and I’m truthfully scared to be in it because I know my hearts going to be ripped out of my chest.

~ Caroline

[bumblesimagines]

His Love to Keep

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Prince (Y/N) Targaryen and his cousin-wife, Princess Rhaenyra, have never truly seen eye to eye after she replaced his father as heir and removed him from line of succession. They both find lovers to keep their beds warm but with age and time comes the desire to redo things.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mentions of marital SA, affairs/cheating on all sides rlly, moon tea usage, mentions of religious guilt?, implied rhaenicent, love triangle trope, canon divergent/AU, sexual/suggestive content, Targcest (Cousins), Rhaenyra is described with her book accurate appearance/body type

About fucking time I did one of these. fuck team black and team green I'm team milf 💪

~~~

"Must you truly go?"

"It is my duty, Alicent."

"Those boys are bastards," Alicent spoke softly, the cup in hand warming her palms as the subtle smell of tansy and mint drifted from the steam brushing along her skin. She watched ripples form in the tea with the slightest of movements, unable to swallow down the nerves beginning to bubble up underneath her skin. "You are not bound to them. They are not your sons."

"I scarcely see them and they still burst with excitement when I visit." (Y/N) strode forward to close the distance between them, his fingers reaching out to brush aside a curled strand of her auburn hair. Alicent lifted her head toward him, the ghost of a smile gracing her lips when his palm pressed against her cheek and she leaned into it. "They may not be my sons by blood but they are by marriage. They must at least feel cared for, even if once every few moons."

Alicent pursed her lips, her big brown eyes peering up at him. "Would you travel to Dragonstone more often if they were yours?" She asked tentatively, gingerly setting the moon tea on the table and rising from her chair. He watched her, his arm encircling her waist when she grew closer, the soft fabric of her thin nightgown rubbing along his arm. "Or would you return to me as you so often do?"

(Y/N) chuckled breathily, his (E/C) eyes crinkling with amusement and his free hand rising to cup her cheek once more. He leaned in and kissed her gently, their eyes fluttering shut as they exchanged breaths. Alicent's arms slipped around his shoulders and pressed her body close to his, eager to soak up whatever she could before they'd be forced apart again by duty. The back of her hips met the side of the table and she leaned back against it, her leg lifting off the ground as her heel dug its way up his calf and thigh until she hooked her leg around his waist. 

"Do not go." She asked pleadingly when they pulled apart for air, her hold on his shoulders tightening briefly when he lifted her up and set her at the edge of the table. Her fingers tugged at the laces in the front of her dress and the sleeves went slack, slipping off her shoulders and threatening to go past her elbows. "You can correspond through ravens." She told him, the pout that'd formed on her lips being kissed away.

His hand slipped beneath her nightgown, forcing it upwards until it rested around her hips. He squeezed the flesh of her thigh where fading marks resided, his lips ghosting over her throat and collarbone. "I have visited Dragonstone plenty of times, Alicent. You have never been against it before." He reminded her, his lips pressing against the valley between her chest as the dress slipped further down until it fully pooled around her hips. 

Alicent's head tilted backward, her soft curls tumbling past her shoulders and grazing along the table. She braced her elbows against the smooth wood, unable to find any excuse apart from worry and a hint of jealousy but her inexplicable mind hardly allowed her to comprehend who exactly she was jealous of if tides shifted between the couple; Rhaenyra or her lover. Ser Harwin had passed some years prior and she'd heard little of Rhaenyra growing close to anyone else since then. It both filled her with dread and intrigue. 

"I have been against you allowing yourself to be seen playing father to those boys. She makes a mockery of you." Alicent said breathily, her legs parting and revealing herself as bare as the previous night when she'd gone to him in hopes of convincing him to remain in Dragonstone. It'd been a fruitless yet enjoyable attempt. 

"She makes a mockery of herself and her father." (Y/N) rebutted swiftly, his hands briefly leaving her thighs to unbutton his loose pants. 

A shuddering breath escaped Alicent when she felt him push inside, the act so familiar yet it still felt unknown to her. Viserys had never cared for her comfort or pleasure during acts of 'passion', only chasing his own pleasure whilst her mind drifted elsewhere. But in the arms of a lover who truly desired her, everything felt different. Every touch felt electrifying, every kiss left butterflies behind, and every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure up her spin. She remained mindful of the early hour in the morrow; many courtiers and servants had the habit of rising with the sun and traveling through the halls of the castle. 

Her arm curled around his neck when he buried his face into the nape of hers, her other hand digging into the fabric of his shoulder and crinkling it as her nails pressed through to his skin. Quiet and soft pants, sighs, and moans escaped her parted lips, her teeth digging into her lip whenever her voice edged toward a louder volume that would alert those passing by the doors to her bedchambers. She'd already instructed her trusted handmaiden to send away those who wished an audience but she'd hardly be a match for anyone alerted by the noise. 

Alicent's hand slapped down on the table, curling her fingers around the edge to stabilize herself and the creaking furniture. Part of her felt guilty for engaging in the sinful act of laying with another while bound by the vows of marriage; guilty for betraying the lingering love she held for Rhaenyra and the trust the kingdom had put upon her shoulders when she wed Viserys. She'd pray in the sept later in the day, asking to be absolved of her sins but the prince was too addicting to give up for Gods she found herself straying further and further away from. 

Her back arched with her abrupt high and he claimed her lips before she could cry out, muffling the noise and the ones that followed when he continued. She clung onto him, and perhaps clung to the idea he'd be tempted to remain at her side as well, the air escaping her lungs and legs caging around him in a tight hold. Her mind grew clouded from the pleasure and near overstimulation, filling her head with thoughts of carrying his child and finally giving him a proper heir to Runestone, but she would not sully him with another bastard as Rhaenyra had. Perhaps in another time, her children would've been his and they would've been happier far from the suffocating walls of the Keep.

She thought of that life often, and it plagued her when she watched his dragon disappear over the vast sea while the horrid taste of the moon tea danced on her tongue.

Despite having her darling sons to keep her company and the occasional visits from her uncle and young cousins.. nothing ever changed the heart-aching loneliness that'd clawed its way into Rhaenyra's chest following the Year of the Red Spring. She'd lost the three people closest to her, the few who knew her secrets and worries. It pained her to know she'd never feel Harwin's warm embrace or hear Laena's mischievous laughter or watch the way Laenor's eyes sparkled when he spoke of his lover. She had few friends in the Keep and even fewer on the isolated island of Dragonstone. 

Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around herself, the sleeves of her dress providing little warmth against the natural chill of Dragonstone from the sea breeze. She strode down the halls in contemplation, although she likely appeared more like a lost ghost forever forced to wander. The letter that'd arrived the previous day had been short and with little details but it'd been from her husband informing her of his arrival to visit 'the boys'. 

Her lips quirked and she sighed through her nose. 'The boys', always 'the boys' or 'your sons but never 'our sons' despite the fact he was the only father they'd ever known. Harwin had been forced to play the part of a friendly uncle figure, forced to watch his children scurry to the feet of a man who treated them with polite affection over genuine love. Rhaenyra hardly found blame within herself. He'd left her alone in the Keep after their wedding, and it'd only been through a letter begging him to return that he'd begrudgingly flown back to see her. The irritation on his face when she explained her newfound predicament- the possibility of being pregnant- had nearly enraged her but he agreed to pretend as if the boys had inherited their brown hair and softer features from his late mother. 

Her attention tugged away from her thoughts and onto the long shadow along the floor peeking out from the balcony, her step quickening slightly to have a peek at the person standing there. She smiled immediately upon seeing Luke with his arms braced against the stone railing and his head tilted toward the clouds in the direction of King's Landing, a bright sparkle in his vibrant eyes. She approached him, settling her hands over his shoulders as she pecked the back of his head. 

"Will you ask him, Mother?" Luke questioned, pressing himself further against the railing as he combed the clouds for any sign of (Y/N) or his dragon. 

"If you can travel with him to Runestone?" Rhaenyra chuckled at the barely contained excitement in his voice despite the ache and tug at her heartstrings. The mere thought of parting with her sweet boy filled her with longing, and they'd yet to even ask (Y/N) if it'd be alright. "I will ask him, Luke. I am certain he'll be more than pleased to show you Runestone and its many ports. You must pay close attention. You will rule it someday."

Luke grimaced at that. "Wouldn't that mean Father has died?" His head turned to peer up at her with those big striking eyes of his; eyes she'd never be able to deny, now more than ever when they reminded her of the shade of Harwin's. 

"Oh, my darling," Rhaenyra cooed, running her fingers through his soft curls. "Ruling does not always entail someone has died. Does Princess Rhaenys not rule Driftmark as her husband's regent while he recovers from his injury? If your... father were to fall ill or sustain an injury that confines him to his bed and you are of age, you would rule in his steed with the help of your great-uncle. You would rule if I were to fall ill and your father had to rule as regent in King's Landing." 

Her words seemed to ease Luke, his hair flopping lightly against his forehead when he nodded and his lips tugging into that smile of his that could brighten the dullest of days. They both turned toward the skies when a deepened screech echoed through the quiet afternoon air and they watched a large figure descend from the clouds and skim the water with its wings. Suvion released another cry when he drew closer, one that seemingly roused his mother and son. In the distance, Rhaenyra faintly made out Silverwing and Arrax's cries in response.

"Father!" Luke leaped away and hurried into the hallway, his feet slapping against the stone floor as he raced toward the entrance leading into Dragonmont. 

Taking a deep inhale, Rhaenyra released it in a sigh and followed after her son, hands clutching the deep red of her skirts and lifting the ends to quicken her pace. She couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's excitement despite the way her heart twisted at the knowledge he'd never have a chance to be excited over his real father. She caught Luke taking Joffery's small hand in his and tugging him further into the entrance of the cave system where (Y/N) would dismount, and found Jace lingering with twisted lips and sullen eyes.

"Jace," She called softly, releasing her skirts to place her hand on his arm. "Are you not excited to greet your father?"

"Is he excited to see us?" Jace asked glumly and Rhaenyra winced. "He has resided in King's Landing for days and has not spared us a single visit in moons. Must he make it any more obvious that we are of little importance to him?" 

Before Rhaenyra could respond, Jace stalked inside, ever the polite one even in his disappointment and anger. She sighed once more and followed him inside, squinting through the light pouring into the cave from the opening on the side and blinking until her eyes adjusted. (Y/N) climbed off Suvion and cooed quietly to his dragon as he slipped his gloves off, handing them to the nearby servant. Suvion chirped softly and dipped down, disappearing into one of the many tunnels within Dragonmont. 

Luke stopped a few feet away from him and dipped his head in respect before releasing Joffery's hand and lunging himself forward. He swung his arms around (Y/N)'s waist and pressed his cheek into his chest, a gleeful smile on his face. Little Joffery clumsily bowed as well and shuffled forward to cling onto (Y/N)'s leg. (Y/N) chuckled at their affection and patted Luke's head, murmuring some words Rhaenyra couldn't hear and leaning down to take Joffery into his arms. 

"Husband," Rhaenyra greeted when he approached, the word still foreign on her tongue despite the many years since their wedding. She hoped to remedy that for the sake of her sons and before loneliness could consume her whole. 

"Rhaenyra," (Y/N) nodded, his brows twitching at the use of his martial title but his face smoothed over into a polite smile when he turned to Jace and offered him Joffery. Rhaenyra felt thankful, in a way, that the years he'd spent attached to her father's hip had eased him into a calmer man. She feared what would have become of him if he'd only been raised by Daemon. 

Gingerly taking his little brother, Jace bowed his head, his lips pulled into a thin line. "My Prince." He greeted and Rhaenyra hoped her sharp inhale had gone unnoticed by her younger sons. "I hope your flight was well." 

"It was, though I am in need of a bath and some rest." (Y/N) told them, his hand brushing over Luke's head one last time before he slipped past them and began heading toward the castle. "I'll see you at supper." He called over his shoulder. 

Rhaenyra bit her inner cheek and spared her children a glance, her legs turning and catching up with her husband. She caught his arm and slipped hers around it, glancing over her shoulder at her boys. "Your belongings in the Sea Dragon Tower have been moved to my bedchambers." She told him quietly.

"And why so?"

"Because you are my husband." Rhaenyra scoffed. "Is that not reason enough? Must I get on my knees and beg for my husband to sleep in the same room as me?"

"You only wish to sleep in the same room as me when you are pregnant with another man's child, Rhaenyra. You ought to learn to ask for moon tea when you sleep with a lover. You've already doomed your two eldest." (Y/N) tugged his arm free from her hold, his lip curled slightly in irritation. "What is it now?"

"It is as I said. It is truly so absurd to desire time with the man I married or do you detest the idea so much you'd rather humiliate me by refusing?" Rhaenyra questioned, her voice rising in volume and eyes fiery as they both stalked toward her bedchambers. Servants clumsily bowed and stepped out of the way from them, their eyes wide with exchanged glances. "When will you grace us with an inch of maturity, I wonder, or will you forever act as a scorned child? It was your father whose ambition and loose tongue stripped him of his title as heir!" 

"It is amusing to hear you speak of maturity, Rhaenyra; it is like a jester speaking of dignity." (Y/N) spat back.

The doors to her apartments were opened hastily by the guard and swiftly shut behind them. (Y/N)'s strides were broken when he took a moment to observe his surroundings, only moving once he noticed the pitcher full of wine and filled a cup to the brim. Rhaenyra watched him drink from it, her chest heaving from her annoyance. She took a deep breath in hopes of calming herself and felt the emotion ease down whilst he rid himself of his riding clothes. 

"We recently learned of your long stay in King's Landing. They will question you as to why you have not come sooner... and I would like to know the answer, too. I know my father's health has been steadily worsening through the years but I doubt you are of any help to the maesters dedicated to ensuring he heals." Rhaenyra approached him from behind, her hands resting upon his shoulders and helping slip the undershirt off his body. She let it drop onto the pile of clothing on the floor and inched closer, the palms of her hands running along his warm skin. She felt a subtle small bump, her brows furrowing as she traced it and quickly recognized it as fading scratch marks. She stilled. "Unless there are other reasons for your visits..." 

He only exhaled through his nose and remained silent. Rhaenyra staggered backward at his lack of response, her widening eyes watching him shed the last of his clothing and step into the warm water within the tub. Her mind flickered through the various courtiers she recalled resided in the Keep prior to her departure to Dragonstone.

It was hypocritical, she knew, to grow so uneasy at the thought of him with another. He'd been indifferent to the years Harwin spent at her side and while she'd always wondered if he'd taken a lover of his own, she always believed it'd be someone from one of the lesser houses in the Vale over someone just a ride away. There were many beautiful ladies residing in the Keep but as always, Rhaenyra's mind lingered on her old friend. 

"I suspected the reason you never cared for Harwin was because you had your own lover waiting in Runestone... yet now I am led to believe that lover calls King's Landing home. What would Queen Alicent say, I wonder, if she grew to learn of your doings beneath her nose and watchful eyes? She's always been so righteous... I am certain even with the animosity between us, she'd ask of you to return to your wife." Rhaenyra swallowed thickly, watching him as he cleaned himself. "Who is it? You knew of mine, I wish to know of yours."

"I find it hard to understand you, Rhaenyra." He muttered. "You always pined for freedom and adventure yet accepted the title of heir; you defended your inheritance yet fled the Keep because of mere court gossip; you never longed for children yet allowed the seed of Breakbones to sprout life three times; you never desired this marriage yet now wish to keep me close after years. Who I lay with is of little interest to you when any other man would have found grounds for a divorce all those years ago."

"You never gave us a chance or have you forgotten you climbed atop Suvion the morrow after our wedding and abandoned me to be in Runestone?" A hot flash of anger jolted through her body, her fingers curling into fits. She often thought of that morning, of rising after a night of angry passion only to discover her new husband had left without a word. It'd been the only time they'd properly been with one another and she'd been left wondering if she'd disappointed him enough for him to believe the marriage was merely an inconvenience. 

"Would you have rather I missed the funeral of my mother?" (Y/N) shot her a glare over his shoulder and tossed aside the sponge, satisfied with his bath and rising to dry himself.

Rhaenyra's swift anger stilled, unable to stop her eyes from wandering. It'd been long since she'd last seen him fully undressed, and even then the memories of their only time together were a whirlwind. He'd always been a fine-looking prince, especially in his youth when he still carried the air of youthful arrogance befitting of a prince. He'd certainly grown into a handsome man, one with mixtures of Targaryen and Royce features that melted together perfectly. 

Rhaenyra forced herself to swallow the spiteful words ready on her tongue and she turned, retrieving a maroon-colored robe with golden designs and approaching him. He eyed her but nonetheless allowed her to help him dress. "I would have rather you spoken to me. I may have been.. reckless and rebellious in my youth but I would not have refused to accompany you. I could have been convinced into waiting for your return but you made your opinion clear. Did you truly never long for a wife all those lonely years in Runestone? Did you never long for.. what could have been?"

"We were children, Rhaenyra. I was a child forced into an abrupt marriage and then forced to deal with the passing of my mother while my family spoke of their suspicion of my father killing her. I had little time to think of a wife who disliked me when I had to learn to rule Runestone and sedate the thirst for revenge in my family. Perhaps these past few years I've thought of having true children that are mine but we've made our beds, Rhaenyra. What's done is done."

"You speak as if I am not still your wife." Rhaenyra released a huff of amusement, her hand smoothing over the front of the robe and feeling the soft fabric. Her fingers dipped beneath the robes and roamed until her thumb brushed over the trail of hair leading further down. He made a noise in the back of his throat but when he did nothing to push her away, Rhaenyra found victory. "I am still of childbearing age, (Y/N). I too have longed for a babe in recent times. I've desired a girl for much time now that Jace and Luke will soon be man-grown and beginning their own families." 

(Y/N)'s eyes jumped away from her, his brows slightly dipping together and jaw subtly ticking. She wondered if he thought of his lover and how she would react to the news, and Rhaenyra felt a hint of satisfaction despite the curiosity swirling around her chest. She wanted a name and a face to put to the woman who'd likely cloud her mind for the rest of her life. It'd always been expected of ladies to tolerate the mistresses of their husbands but Rhaenyra could hardly see herself allowing such a thing

"I am certain this is the very reason my lover did not wish for me to come here." (Y/N) sighed and Rhaenyra blinked at him, unable to comprehend why then he'd flown to Dragonstone if the person he did care about asked of him otherwise. Her heart fluttered at the possibilities. 

She pressed her hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him closer, bringing her lips over his and sighing in relief as their lips moved together. "She will have to understand and bring herself to forgive," Rhaenyra said, already breathless and eager. It'd been so, so long since she'd last felt the touch of another. 

He grunted into her mouth when her fingers curled around him and pumped him slowly, delighting in the feeling of him fully hardening against her hand. She'd always been a lustful creature, she supposed, always hungering for the feeling of pleasure and power over someone else in such intimate acts.

(Y/N) had always been someone out of reach, both literally and figuratively, so having him shuddering against her and grazing his tongue against hers only fueled her desire. Rhaenyra savored each grunt, hiss, and needy kiss as she stroked him, running her fingers along the slit and coating her skin. 

Her dress loosened when he undid the laces at the back of her gown with expertise. She relished the quiet, muffled huff that left him when she retracted her hand to peel the sleeves off her arms and allow the dress to slump down at their feet with her undergarments quickly following. He leaned back to observe her, his eyes taking in the newfound curves of her body she'd obtained from age and multiple pregnancies. Much of the weight from bearing children had remained, remolding her body into something new and far from the girl he'd consummated his marriage with.

Rhaenyra grinned at the flicker of hunger in his eyes before the grin vanished with a gasp as he latched onto her neck and pulled her closer. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around him, quiet sighs and gasps leaving her with each nip and suckle at her throat. They stumbled back toward the bed and Rhaenyra pushed at his shoulders until he sat at the edge, parting briefly with each other before she settled on his lap. 

Cradling his face in her hands, she pressed another kiss to his lips. "Today and every day til I am with child, you are mine and mine alone."

[elliee3e]

light size kink & age play w logan because i’m feeling absolutely depraved today</3

like, jesus FUCK this gif. oh my lord, i need him to throw me onto his bed and ravage me right now please !!!

content warnings ;

age play, size kink/difference, reader’s described as very small, innocence kink, light sub/dom themes, mentions of piv, creampies, tummy/dick bulge (i couldn’t help myself)

author’s note ;

also in the process of making an old man logan drabble !! hopefully i’ll try to post it later tonight, but if not it’ll definitely be out before monday — bare with me y’all…

oh, logan is an absolute sucker for size and age differences.

logan, who by now was used to sleeping with people of course younger than him — he knew how big he was compared to them, and knew he was pretty big just in general and everywhere.

but you, oh baby. you could barely take his dick without having a bulge at least somewhere in your little body, right from where the thick head of it sat, stretching whichever hole he was fucking, making it his.

something about the way you were also just so needy for his attention. you needed him for everything, even for things as simple as tying your shoes or fixing your outfit. logan would never forget the moment you came out of the shared bathroom in your guys’ room, wearing a small little baby pink dress that barely reached the smooth, soft skin of your little mid-thighs, as you held up a pair of white stockings for him to put on for you.

he knew you enjoyed it far too much. enjoyed the way he would sigh, patting his lap invitingly for you to come over.

“pretty dress for a pretty princess, hm?” he would hum gruffly, but the tone of appreciation and approval still stuck out as he started stretching the stockings out a little with his big hands. big rough hands you wanted all over your body, squeezing and kneading at your supple flesh. your heart would flutter at the words, making you nod and bite your lip, a sentence you tried to keep inside ending up out anyway. “bought it for you..” you would mumble softly, voice slightly ashamed, feeling as his hands started to stretch the stocking over your pretty legs.

and oh, he loved your legs so much. he loved the feel of that smooth, soft skin underneath his roughed up hands when he would run them over your skin, or even when he would press little kisses to your ankle when he would do up your heels, scruff rubbing against your sensitive flesh. it felt so wrong but so right. so taboo to have such a bigger, older man like logan — a man who had been around for centuries longer than you had, who knew exactly what to do to please a woman, you being no different.

and he loved your body head to toe. in his eyes, you were the most gorgeous girl ever. his gorgeous girl, and he would do anything to make sure you knew that.

“yeah? bought it for me, that right, baby?” he asked, a low chuckle coming from his throat at your words, a sound that made your stomach flutter with warmth — and logan seemed to know, as his free hand ran up and over your little stomach: his big palm splaying across it and covering more than half of you there. where he had filled you up with his cum merely a few hours ago. your stomach, that everytime he pounded into you, felt like he was carving a spot just for his dick — your tight heat struggling to even take all of him at times, but it was always worth it to feel that warm heat pour into your sweet pussy, filling you up to every brim. it was enough to make you weak, but after all — you were always weak for logan.

[800db-cloud]

spare some spy hcs? 👀

OKAY. ok. so i have been putting off answering this ask because i’m admittedly very shy and very afraid of sharing my headcanons. and also because i have A LOT OF THEM.. but here we are!

here are my headcanon spies :) René works for RED and Jacques works for BLU!

where to start, where to start… i have a LOT of headcanons for them, i’ll be talking for FOREVER here. i’ll just start with story because why not! xP

René’s parents were also agents/spies, so he was always destined to be one as well. And he lives up to his parents’ legacies! He’s most notorious for destroying gangs and mobs and the like from the outside in. He was brought to America years ago to take out a dangerous mob boss, but unfortunately found himself infatuated (and involved) with the boss’ daughter. Luckily for him, the boss’ daughter wanted the guy dead, too.

René’s story is honestly a lot more fleshed out than Jacques’, but here goes anyway:

Jacques’ father was a very rich and powerful man in politics. Jacques himself was the result of an affair, and to keep it hush-hush, his father decided to raise him. Raise is a strong word, though— but he did help his father gain intelligence and blackmail on opposing political parties. Jacques proved to be a promising spy since childhood.

If anyone has any suggestions/ideas for Jacques’ story, let me know haha x) he didn’t have the greatest upbringing per se…

last thing on this section i wanna talk about is the Scouts. René is related to both of the Scouts; he’s RED Scout (Jeremy)’s biological father, and he’s BLU Scout (James)’ adoptive/step-father. Jacques has no relation to either scout, but acts as a guardian figure to BLU Scout.

anyway, this is the part where i continue talking about other miscellaneous headcanons! and these come with doodles :)

You couldn’t catch René DEAD without his mask, or his suit! He’d neeever take them off around other people (‘other people’ is mainly just Scout. For obvious reasons.) Meanwhile, Jacques is pretty lenient in letting his teammates see his face! Everyone on BLU’s seen his face at least once.

A big part of why René refuses to strip down is also due to the fact he has a LOT of tattoos. No doodle for this one because I’ve yet to decide on what tattoos to put on him (ideas are very welcome!!), but yeah! Most of the tattoos were ‘forced’ onto him/he had to get for jobs and ‘fitting in’ with bad crowds, but a good few of them were of his own accord, too.

Jacques doesn’t have tattoos, but he has a myriad of another thing: scars! Lots and lots of scars on this guy. Faded and old, sure, but they’re there. Most prominent ones are the one around his neck (from when the RED Medic beheaded him) and the ones on his forearms (those are from the LAST time he was imprisoned— looong story…)

René doesn’t cook very often for his team, but when he does, everyone’s always BLOWN AWAY by this guy’s cooking! René’s really bad at taking compliments, though— (“Cooking food that’s remotely edible isn’t a compliment, it’s basic survival.”) —but rest assured he’ll be thinking about it for the next month. Jacques, however… Do NOT let this guy into the kitchen. Ever. The BLU base has a special fire extinguisher “In Case Spy Decides To Turn On The Stove”

oooh, this one is an hc and a HALF to me. René much prefers working alone. It’s just in his nature, being isolated and whatnot. He likes to deal with things by himself– maybe he doesn’t want to burden others? On the contrary, Jacques NEVER works alone. It’s a trait he’s had even before being hired to BLU. You never know when things could go wrong, so it’s best to have someone else to fall back to… or someone else you can blame!

these hcs both have something to do with how René and Jacques show their trust in other people :) it’s a bit convoluted but it gets there:

René is, amusingly, very bad at remembering names. Almost laughably bad. There have been many-a-story of his days before RED where he’d get a target’s name wrong, even after he’d repeated it in his head dozens of times over. Names are difficult for him, so if he remembers yours, it means you mean a lot to him! He prefers using his teammates’ names rather than their titles. René is unaware of how charming this specifc trait is to his coworkers (they saw how much work and effort it took for him to memorize their names, they’re just happy with how far he’s come!)

Jacques has a… to put simply, very complicated relationship with food. But the one thing he’ll never turn down is sweets. His favorites especially being chocolate bonbons. Jacques has a hard time eating in front of others, let alone sharing his food! But if he genuinely likes and trusts you enough, he’d have half the mind to share with you. Admittedly, he hasn’t brought himself to share with most of the members of his team yet, except for a select few. Mostly BLU Medic and BLU Sniper.

—

and of course, eventually, EVENTUALLY, these two also become friends! it took a little bit but believe me, they both respect each other’s skill in their job :)

AHHg i could go sooo much longer about them— from things like their physical traits (how much teeth they have? it’s a pressing question) or different periods of their life (why did rené have to leave his family? why was jacques imprisoned for the last time?) BUT this post is so… so, so long. My fingers hurt from typing

If you’ve managed to read through this Beast, THANK YOU RAAHH!!! thanks so much for asking this, too. i hope to spare more hcs someday. hehe ^_^

[bunicate]

satoru helping his lactating big sister :]

yk I said nanami nd suguru , nd u have the nerve to send s*toru . . . jus so yk im most likely never writing for dis man again but i felt impulsive so here is 700 words . I did dis in like 5 mins . . dnt expect cwazy

⋆⁺₊❅ ⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི incest. lactation / 18+

“stop doing that.”

you’re careful to punctuate every word, hoping that it would somehow force him to sense at least an ounce of your desperation. you’d like to think that your misery would act as some sort of deterrent from his stream of jokes, but it only enables him.

satoru chuckles, flicking his thumbs over the raised skin.

“sorry, but no can do, sis.”

his pointer finger and thumb latch onto the hardened bud and he tugs it with a gentle force. he admires the ripple of fat before he’s doing it again. this time his attention to your aching nipple is careful but rough. it encourages a small spurt of milk that trickles down his fingers, staining your already damp blouse.

“shit,” he mutters.

he takes a few seconds to marvel at the mess before removing his fingers from the taut flesh. he places them in his mouth and lets out a deep hum. his eyes roll back in his head when the sweet coating of milk warms his tongue, but you’re utterly horrified.

“s-satoru ! you said you’d help me get the milk out , not drink it .”

he shrugs. “does it matter ?” he pushes you closer to the kitchen sink. “besides, it seems like such a waste to let it go down the drain.”

he’s seen all kinds of crazy things come from all walks of life, but just when he thought he’s seen it all, you come bustling down the hall near tears and breasts mysteriously leaking milk.

he should be concerned, he should be mortified actually, but he’s mastered the art of finding the good in the bad, the weird, and the crazy. nothing ever really surprises him anymore.

he handles this mess with such ease that it truly exasperates you. he’s unfortunately, just one of a kind.

satoru , however, believes he’s a good younger brother. after all, he’s relieving your tender breasts of milk. he’s been massaging them for well over 30 minutes, big hands groping and jiggling the plumpness, not for his amusement of course. it’s such a strenuous task, so he deserves some type of reward, right?

he gives your breast another squeeze until droplets fall into the kitchen sink, lips tingling at the sight.

“maybe you’re half cow or something . . .”

satoru flinches expectantly when your fist collides with his chest. he’s jostled backward, and he clutches his pectoral dramatically.

“it’s a joke !”

you clutch your exposed breasts timidly.

“well, it’s not funny ! I'm going through a midlife crisis and as your older sister, you could at least show me some respect , you ass !”

he doubles over in laughter, signaling his ever-growing amusement. satoru then attaches himself right back to your side, nuzzling into the side of your cheek. a snarky chuckle emits from his throat.

“as tempting as that may be, I don’t think you’re in the position to make demands.”

his hands roughly cup your breasts, pumping them while milk continually spills. his body is nearly inflamed from touching you. his chin rests on the top of your head while he tugs your fat tits.

his cock presses against his jeans, rubbing his groin against your perky butt.

“y’feel so good.”

you whine in pure defeat. how could this be going so wrong ? you’re supposed to push him away, tell him to stop, but arousal clouds your judgment. your cunt is throbbing, on the brink of an orgasm, and it only heightens when his erection slots between your ass.

“t-toru. . .”

he whistles lowly, “wow, you sound so pretty like that.”

he gradually increases his pace on both your sore nipples.

“let satoru-nii take care of you.” he bites back a wicked smile.

“say it. let me pretend to be your big brother just this once, please ?”

there’s a soft tinge in his voice that resembles a whine. the strength to resist slowly dissipates when his cock mushes against opening, and his pants fan across your ear

“satoru-nii. . .”

It’s quiet, but his sensitive ear picks up on your little cry. his mouth trails down your neck until he’s breathing over your puffy nipples .

his tongue grazes the milky bud, tasting your sweet fluid once more .

“alright, alright. I'll suck until the swelling goes down. how does that sound ? “

[nanenna]

Jeez Louise This is a Mess

Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post

Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.

---

John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.

John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”

Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”

“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.

“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”

Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.

The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.

“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.

“You would think so.”

The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…

“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”

“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.

“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”

“Will that work?”

“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”

Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.

Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”

“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”

“You don't know who I am?”

“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”

“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”

“Then what do they call you?”

“How about you tell me your name first?”

“I’m Deadman.”

The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”

“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.

“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”

The Fentons all shook their heads.

The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”

“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”

“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”

Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.

It did… well not much.

Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.

Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”

John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?

“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.

“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”

And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.

“What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”

“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.

Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.

Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.

The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.

John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”

The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”

For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.

Everyone was staring at the display.

“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.

“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.

“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”

“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”

“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”

“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.

“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”

And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”

“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.

“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.

“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.

“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.

“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”

“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.

“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”

Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.

[juleswritesstuff]

Blind

james potter x reader

I saw that post right in the middle and I just had to.

Warnings: none (it's a bit suggestive, but nothing major)

You could live like this, you think.

It would truly be the best life ever in your humble opinion.

Sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, holding on to him like a lifeline as your bodies fit perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. His hands are all over your body, fingers exploring wherever they can reach before sneaking swiftly under your shirt to trace along the length of your spine, pads dancing on your soft skin and making shives erupt all over you.

And his lips. Oh God, his lips. 

James has the face of an angel, and the mouth of a demon. And you love it. You revel in the feeling of his lips claiming every part of you, every inch of flesh. They are soft and reverent and teasing and filthy, and in this moment they are devouring yours with a hunger that matches the fire blooming inside of you.

“You have no right to look this good” you whisper on his lips, biting his bottom one before swiping your tongue right over it.

You couldn’t help yourself when you saw him. All disheveled after quidditch practice with his hair still a little damp, the first three buttons of his shirt free, tie loose and crooked and a half smirk on that perfect face of his; knocking on your door completely clueless of the effect he had on you.

He looked like sex on legs. A literal sin in human form, and you were ready to fall from grace when it came to him.

“Didn't know post-quidditch me was so sexy to you” his voice has a little strain to it, breathless and teasing as his hands roamed all over your body.

You let out a breathless chuckle, hyper aware of every centimeter of him pressed against you.

“You have no idea” your hands get to work on his shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as you can, until his perfectly chiseled torso graces your eyes in its full glory.

Your mouth waters at the sight.

You slide the fabric off of his shoulders, brushing the smooth skin and feeling all those firm muscles that he hides behind his beloved sweatshirts, biting your lip as the flames inside your body grow hotter by the second. 

Your mouth latches to his once again, never having enough of his taste, of him.

He starts to lay down and you follow him, never breaking the embrace of your lips, intoxicated by the way his tongue caresses yours in the filthiest of dances. His back hits the mattress and you are fully all over him, chest to chest.

The kiss becomes messy, a clash of teeth and lips and tongues. You are sure the thing running through your veins is not blood anymore, but liquid fire, consuming every cell of your body and setting you ablaze with desire.

“Woah, you're fucking blurry” 

“Hold on, love. I have to-”

One of his arms leaves your waist and reaches up, until his fingers are wrapped around the slim, golden frame of his glasses, taking them off in a way that should be considered illegal in at least twenty countries. All smooth and seductive with that little grin of his.

God, he was so beautiful like this. All worked up and breathless, laying underneath you like the tastiest meal you ever had the pleasure to taste and-

For a split second the room falls silent, not a single sound can be heard inside those four walls.

You blink a few times, enough to let his words sink in.

And when they do you can't help but burst out laughing.

A real, genuine laugh coming straight from your belly and echoing through the room like you had just heard the joke of the century.

James’ eyes are wide in disbelief, flabbergasted by your reaction. But his mouth is stretched in an incredulous grin, sprinkled with a glint of mirth as he himself can’t stop the chuckle bubbling in his throat.

“Are you making fun of my blindness ? How cruel, Y/N” there is not an ounce of offense in his tone, just light-hearted and hilariously exaggerated teasing.

“Me ?” the fake and over the top innocence in your voice makes him smile even harder, the little dimple on his left cheek that you adored so much peeking through. You dip forward, leaving a kiss on those dreamy lips of his before whispering right against them “I wouldn't even dream of it” 

“Oh, you wouldn't ?” he cocks a perfectly arched brow in a challenging and yet adorable manner, eyes sparkling with mischief as his fingers start poking at your ribs, making you squirm and giggle like a middle schooler.

“No ! No, no, no ! Jame-”

He is laughing too, now. Glasses back in their place and eyes glistening with joy and pure adoration as he looks at you struggling not to lose a lung from the almost hysterical shriek coming from your lips at the ticklish attack he had you under.

You are so focused on not collapsing from the laughter and the skillful way his fingers move in every place he knew was the most ticklish for you, that you don't even register the way his hands suddenly stop.

They land on your hips, holding them in a delicate but firm grip, and, before you know it, you are being flipped over. Your back makes contact with the mattress of your bed as the delicious weight of your boyfriend’s sculpted body settles over you. 

You let out a yelp of surprise at the sudden change of position, a sound that threatens to turn into a full moan considered your current situation.

James is now on top of you, and the breath almost gets knocked out of your lungs as you admire him in his full glory.

His hair is wild and messy, but they frame his face in a way both so beautiful and so sexy that it makes your heart stop beating and your body run hotter. His eyes are still crinkled up in the ghost of a smile, but the haziness in them, that glint of adoration and reverence as he looks at you through his eyelashes, renders you speechless. His golden specks are hung a bit low on the bridge of his nose, giving him an adorable but mouth watering beautiful look. His lips are curled up in a half smile, playful and gorgeous and so, so incredibly sensual that you are not even sure if he knows the power that mouth has on you.

“Cat got your tongue, love ?” he brushes his nose with yours as he murmurs the question right on your lips, leaving a kiss on your cheek right after.

You wish you could just function like a normal person and tell him that, no, your tongue is definitely still in its place and it works perfectly fine, thank you. But your boyfriend is shirtless on top of you, with your legs still wrapped around his hips and that deadly handsome grin plastered on his face. Suddenly, the only thing you can think about are some other couple of ways in which your mouth could definitely be useful. 

“I-” you gulp loudly as you try not to drool at the sight of his muscles flexing right before your eyes “-what ?”

He lets out a chuckle, his head hung low as his shoulders shake with laughter. His wild locks tickle your chin and you can feel the ghost of his smile pressed lightly on your collarbone

You can’t help but follow him as the delightful sound of his laugh echoes through the room, spreading a warmth in your heart that you had never felt before meeting James.

When he lifts his head back up and his eyes find yours again, all sparkling with joy and fondness, you really think your heart is seconds away from bursting in your chest.

“Am I really that distracting ?” there is still a hint of that cocky smirk on his face, but it fades into something sweeter as he catches the light blush blossoming on your cheeks.

“You know perfectly well that I stop functioning properly when you are on top of me, Potter” your grumbling tone doesn’t faze him one bit, he just dips his head lower and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

“Really ? I hadn’t noticed” the unimpressed deadpan look you give him makes him chuckle again and you can feel the vibration right on your chest with how close he is.

“Sorry, sorry” his laughter dissipates, replaced by a more relaxed smile.

“If it’s of any consolation-” the hand not busy holding his upper body up and preventing his full weight to be laid on you, reaches the supple flesh of your thigh, letting his fingers dance on the exposed skin as they please “-my brain stops working, too” 

His mouth starts a journey that begins on your lips and slowly and tortourously ends on your neck, which seems to be his favorite place to worship to make your brain short-circuit.

“Mmh, does it actually ?” you don’t know how the hell you manage to let a single word out, especially in that teasing tone, as you are sure nothing except pure filthy sounds threaten to come out of your throat.

He grins against your skin before lifting his head up once again.

“Oh, trust me. It does” he whispers sensually against your lips “In every position you have me in”

Yes, you could definitly live like this.

I am not sure if I am a 100 % satisfied with this, but I tried my best.

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading 💗

[nighttimealone]

Hi, I love your writing! And I was wondering if I could request a smut story. Where König, Price, or Soap is a budior photographer and is doing a photo shoot with an insecure plus size reader?

Cw: Nsfw (Why choose one? I wrote all of them in this, hope you don’t mind)

You’ve been looking at your feeds, sighs imperceptibly when it shows your friends sharing the photos of them having a boudoir shoot. You’ve always been craving one for yourself, but you don’t fit into the ‘beauty standard’ of the society, or at least that’s the people told you while snorting laughters throughout your life. But fuck it, you’re not going to care about those toxic murmurs from your heart popping up in your mind, or the taunts you’ve received from others. Your fingers type on your phone swiftly, sending a message to the boudoir photographer, then discard your phone on the nightstand and close your eyes, in case you regret your decision again and cancel it with a “sorry”.

John, the first photographer you contact, ring your doorbell and greet you with a polite smile. A gentleman, caring and make sure you’re always comfortable, that’s your first impression of him.

“Just like that, love. You’re doing so well.” He instructs you patiently throughout the shoot, sensing your nervousness and insecurity, but doesn’t point out. It’s obvious that he prefers a more romantic style, let you turn your back to the camera, hair splaying across your back, extending your legs back to accentuate your curves.

You try to hide the ‘excessive’ meat on your thighs, closing them tightly and turn them away from the camera subconsciously. His hands, warm and tender, hovering over your thighs with a gruff “May I?”, seeking your permission before maneuvering your legs, guiding it to expose the plump and soft flesh, “That’s it, good girl. No need to be shy.” He snaps the picture with a satisfied look.

His eyes are full of fascination when he looks down at you, skins glowing and cheeks rosy when he slowly peels the robe of your lingerie—french style with white transparent laces—off you. “Knew how gorgeous you look in these, love?” John’s touch is reverent, as if you’re a gift from the heaven, peppering kisses up your thighs, knowing how much you feel embarrassed about them. Yet the awe in his eyes makes your head spin as he wraps his hands around both of your thighs, “God, see how they spill out of my fingers, princess? perfect…absolutely perfect.” That’s the last thing he says before lowering his head, can’t control his urge any longer, lapping at your core and worshipping you thoroughly, there’s won’t be a spot left untaken care of as your back arch at how his tongue nudges your entrance, drinking all those nectar and groans lowly when your squeeze his head between your thighs. “Come on, squeeze those thighs harder around me, drown me in your pussy.” When you see him lift his head slightly, instructing you just like he was during the shooting—only this time his beard is glistening with your juices—you know you’ll keep being a good girl for him.

You receive the photos from John a week after, baffled and blinks your eyes a few times, trying to process the fact that the elegant woman in the photo is you. Your cheeks are hot when you observe the photos clearly, but the joy swirling in your chest overtakes the shyness of seeing yourself in such intimate positions.

So you search the internet again, and finds Johnny, contact him about booking a session, meanwhile take a look at his social media profile. He looks confident and quite a people person, the smug smile never leaves his lips in every photos of him. And he’s just like what you assume, the moment you open your door, he never stops talking, charming you with every words, even the stupid mohawk only he can make it shine looks good on him.

In contrast to John, Johnny’s style is more passionate, sexual and sultry. Teaching you to sit on your bed, legs spread wide and brace yourself with arms at your back, arch your supple breast high and let the locks falls naturally behind you. “Hell, you look like sexiness embodiment, lassie.” Johnny’s praises never stop, every moves of your body make him gasp in admiration.

Johnny insists you to sit on his lap, tugging the straps on your lingerie and let it snap back on your skin lightly, moans out like a needy wolf as he watch the strap’s digging into your skin slightly. “I knew this lingerie would suit ye the moment I saw your stunning body, pretty girl.” Yes, he suggested you to pick yourself a lingerie with more straps tying around each part of your body, but what you didn’t know is he’s been hiding that boner since he see you comes out the bathroom with it, his cock so hard and leaking precums in his trousers, good that he wears the loose and black pair, or he might get caught hiding his erection during the shoot, and ended up just fucking you straightly before finishing the shoot.

His thick dick sinks into your cunny, still pushing you down onto his lap, so he can stuff all that cock inside of your warmth. If you try to lift your ass, saying you don’t want to crush him under his weight, a soft smack will immediately lands on your buttocks, with him grabbing your thighs and thrust into you fully again, chuckling at your high-pitched whine, “Ditch those unnecessary concerns, doll. Think I can’t handle a bit of weight, eh? will change that thought of yers now.” His hips rocks upwards to emphasize his points, and you can barely understand his words when he’s fucking into your tight cunt fiercely.

During the wait for the photos from Johnny, you contact König. You’re more comfortable with boudoir shoots now, and when you spotted his work from his profile, you’re interested in getting one of those photos featuring exotic nightgowns. He replies to your inquiry quickly with a ‘:)’ at the end of the sentence, so you expect him to be a cute boy. Well, that’s why you almost close your door after seeing a 6’9’’ giant with a mask covering the lower half of his face, standing in front of you when the time comes, thinking he accidentally knocked the wrong door, until he swiftly explains to you he’s ‘König’ with a tint of fluster in his voice.

Despite the little incident and misunderstanding earlier, the whole experience is relaxing. He’s quieter and looks more intimidating than John and Johnny, yet he softly guides your movements and pose, and you almost snicker at his attempt to make himself less scary.

But when König scoops you in his arms without breaking a sweat, holding you in full nelson and driving that inhuman-sized cock into your pussy, growls teetering on animalistic and humane as he keeps lifting you, letting the position help him abuse your poor cervix and you’re singing his name in joy, squirting here and there every time he pulls out a bit just to slam back, heavy balls slapping on your skin, you know he’s been hiding the feral side from you, caging the animal inside him till he can has his way with you after the shoot. “So süß…so gut, liebe…” His hips never cease, standing tall and pinning you back against his chest. A german curse grunted against your shoulder as he goes pussy drunk, panting at how comforting and enticing to fondle your pillowy thighs when he fills you to the brim.

You wake up next day around noon, body aches from the activity from last day. Your groggy mind sluggishly recalls that Johnny tells you he’ll be sending the final files of your photos today, so you reach out to check if he sent them yet. Yet your eyes widened when you see the notifications popping up on the screen.

[Price]: You can just come to me whenever you want another shoot, sweetheart. Heard you went to get one from Johnny, hmm?

[Johnny]: Saw you following that giant’s account. König, eh? don’t go seek him when you need new photos, ask me or at least the old man first, I’ll always squeeze a session out of my schedule just for you, lassie.

[König]: *attached a picture of an exquisite nightgown* This suits you well, Schatz. I just bought it for you, and if you don’t mind, I want to see you in it and posing for MY camera.

Your palms are sweating as your eyes scan through the texts. Because no way all three of them know each other, right…right?

Bloody hell.

feel free to share your thoughts via askbox, hope you’ll like this.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent ones of these even though they all look the same lol.. forcing myself to document progress..

[bunny-jpeg]

hi Bunny! Could you do a croissant and root beer and whatever’s on the house with Lewis Hamilton?

bakery menu

want to put in your own order? hit me up! i'm still accepting orders! we're always serving up smiles! for this, i went with a mafia au route, the idea of lewis in a crisp suit was ratting around in my jellybean brain, haha. i thought of him teasing horner!reader

croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + root beer (filming/recording) + on the house (choice:size kink)

cw: smut/pwp, horner!reader, missionary, size kink, photo-taking,

"i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you looked at lewis before he pressed his lips up against your neck. his hands were palming your breasts as he rubbed his hard cock against you.

"you're really pretty when you're under me." he chuckled, he loved taking you in the missionary position. he loved the small movements in your face as you try to take all of him. it was honestly so endearing that you were trying so hard to get all of himself inside of you.

you two were forbidden lovers! or at least that was what the gossip rags said about you. when the paparazzi got a photo of you stumbling out of a club, or him with his arm around you.

there was a photo that was circulated that was certain you two were together because it was you whispering in his ear at a carnival in some small town, but from the angle it looked like you two were kissing. didn't help the photo right after was you two sharing a sweet smile.

you were the off limits daughter of christian horner. you had spent your entire life around a paddock, so the pretty smiles of the drivers never fazed you. except for lewis hamilton, who came into your life like an inferno.

while a heartthrob across many countries, you started out as friends. but, even forest fires started as a spark. and you were at lewis' for the weekend after lying to your father about seeing a few of your friends from uni.

"does he know? i wonder if he talks about me?" lewis chuckled when he took your weekend bag from your hand and put it to the side. waiting any longer for you felt impossible.

his hands slid up from under your shirt as he pressed a searing kiss to your jaw. you felt hot all over at the feeling of his against your flesh. he was the kind of lover that made you heart hammer in your chest enough that you scrambled to get the shirt off over your head.

"i can see why he's so protective of his daughter, you're beautiful." he said, "pretty thing around the paddock will turn a few heads." he laughed, "but no one knows you're here with me tonight." he kissed at your jaw and held onto your shoulders. he then moved to your lips and kissed you deeply.

"stop talking about my father." you groaned.

"why? i thought you were a proud horner." he chuckled, "don't want to talk about dear old father in the bedroom?" he rubbed himself up against you.

"you prick." you said, your lips close to his.

he chuckled, "you love me." then took you by the back of the head and pulled you in for a hot kiss. his other hand was on the waistband of your pants to get them off of you. he had enough of waiting.

he needed his sweet girl.

the trek to his bedroom felt long because he was trying to get your shorts off before you reached the room. then when you finally got on the bed, you got your pants and underwear off. which left you in your bra and lewis was admiring the sight of you.

he palmed the front of his pants and admired you. you were beautiful, the sight of you left his mouth dry as he looked at you. how did a guy like horner have a daughter so beautiful?

he got onto the bed beside you and got off his sweater before he pulled you close to him and then further onto the bed. you laid tangled up in one another as he kissed down your neck. his soft lips felt so good against you.

his hands massaged your breasts. he whispered sweet praise against your skin as you felt so close to him. it was amazing. he made a heat run through you as you laid there next to him.

"such a pretty girl." he admitted, "i can't get enough of you. they shouldn't let you in the paddock because you're so much of a distraction."

you held the man's face, looked in his eyes and said, "i thought i was your good luck charm?"

he smiled, not the one for the cameras. but one that held a genuine truth, he pressed his nose against yours and with his eyes closed, replied, "of course. i just think you should be wearing my number so no one gets the wrong idea."

"you menace."

"only for you."

once you two were fully naked, you rubbed up against him. you laid cuddled up in each other's arms as you felt him up. he kissed you once more before he got you onto your back and was between your legs.

he gazed at you lovingly as he wrapped your legs around his waist. he leaned over you, hand on your face as he kissed you gently once more. you felt like a dream to him, a perfect woman for him to indulge in. to love.

maybe you two did have a back and forth, but deep down the feelings for you were painfully true. it was now just a game of chicken until one of you admitted to the other.

"i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me." he said softly, hands on your breasts.

you wanted to throw a pillow at him as you responded, "enough about my father or i'm going home."

he chuckled and gave you one last, almost sweet, kiss on the cheek before he grabbed you by this hip with one hand and his cock with the other. he maintained eye contact as he watched your face change as he push his cock into you.

he was impressive in size, sort of big compared to you. that gleaming smile and strong arms made you feel protected. your heart leapt as you felt his cock being buried into you.

he liked that he was bigger than you, sometimes he'd press his palm up against yours and point out the difference. it was cute, "it's not your fault you're so small. means that i just have to protect you."

but at that moment, you could really feel the difference as lewis gave you gentle praise.

you tensed up but his soft words against you managed to make you relax a little. he got his cock into you to the base and shuddered at the feeling of your tight cunt around him. you felt so good.

he smiled at you, feeling the sweat already at the back of his neck. he smiled at you. no one could deny that he was handsome, you remember his little fan club. you'd often scoff at it. if they saw you now.

you kissed once more as you began to move against one another. you gripped onto his shoulders as he held you by waist. his lips were on your neck, occasionally dragged his front teeth against your skin, threatening to bruise it.

he thought about making a comment about your father once more. really rub it in, but as your expression started to look more relaxed and blissed out. he couldn't bring himself to say it. call him soft.

he continued to rut into you, his heart hammered in his chest as he held you close to him. his chest pressed against yours, your nails dug into his massive back tattoo as the two of you continued to kiss.

it felt primal and hot, it made you core feel like an inferno as you moved. you moaned a little.

"you should be wearing my number next time." he said, "i'll even be nice and say it doesn't even have to be mercedes branded. i know your dad would have a fit if he saw that. remember the ferrari temporary tattoo."

you rolled your eyes, "what did i say about my father, lewis." you remembered the event quite well. you managed to get a ferrari temporary tattoo on your arm as a joke and your father gave you a stern talking to. especially because it was clearly seen in most photos of the event.

you thought it was funny, but you didn't want your old man yapping at you if you strolled up in a mercedes shirt and lewis on your arm.

you kissed once more, you felt the curl of orgasm in your gut as he moved against you. you held his face as you kissed him. you felt warmth pool in your gut.

you held onto him tighter as you felt the orgasm swirl in your body. you panted close to him and said, "i'm close. shit, lewis."

he nodded, "perfect. cum for me, pretty girl." he made it his mission to make you finish. he tightened his grip onto you and really put in the work.

it wasn't long before you were holding onto him as tightly as you could. you tensed up around him and let out a cute, almost pathetic moan as you came.

you still held onto him as you relaxed and let him continue to fuck you. his orgasm was close behind as he really thrusted up into you. your pussy was a wet heat that made his head spin as he finally got to his peak and finished inside of you.

he admired the sight of your face as he moved through his orgasm. he eventually slowed down to a stop and panted heavily as he looked down at you. he admired the sight of you for a moment, he kissed you once more and said.

"i really wonder if your father knows. about all this. that you'll one day be my mrs. hamilton." he smiled as he gave you a soft thrust in effect.

"shut up, hamilton." you said as you reached to his face and covered it with your hand.

you laid there in a sweaty mess. you watched lewis get out of bed to grab his phone from his pants pocket. he came back and knelt between your legs. earlier he wanted to film the entirety of you fucking, but thing moved a little too fast for that.

he did however prod at your pussy with his fingers and watched his pearly cum ooze of your fucked hole. he filmed it briefly for his personal collection. how he ruined horner's daughter for any other man.

when he finished filming, he took a few photos of you naked body. he'll be needing this in the weeks to come. in fairness, if he ruined you for other men. then you ruined him for other women.

one last picture of your pretty pussy and he was content.

"lewis." you said.

"yes?" he asked as he got a close up photo of your face as you still panted heavily, coming down from your high. the sight made him hard once more.

"oh, you pervert." you said as you reached for him.

-

the following weekend you were around the paddock as usual. you had greeted your father earlier and he was happy to see you. you kept your hands behind your back as to make sure your old man didn't see what was around your wrist.

but when lewis saw it, he felt a curl of possessiveness in his gut. he even went as far as to take your wrist and looked at the gold bracelet. on it was a charm that was two simple numbers, '44'. lewis kissed your wrist and looked into your eyes.

"next time." he said, "i'll get you something a little more noticeable. that you can't hide from your dad." he chuckled. he really was a menace. <3

[fatecantstopme]

What I'd Give

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.

You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.

You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.

"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."

You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.

The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.

Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.

Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.

You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.

"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."

You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.

You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.

"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."

"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.

"In the flesh!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."

"Did you come here to gloat?"

"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."

"Then why did you come?"

"To save him, obviously."

Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"

Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."

"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"

"Nothing too extravagant."

"Lucifer..." you growled.

"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."

"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."

Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."

Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.

"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."

You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.

"No," you said firmly.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."

You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.

"Save him first," you whispered.

Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."

You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."

"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."

You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.

"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.

Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.

It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.

To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.

Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.

Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."

You nodded.

"How am I not dead?"

You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.

"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.

"The one and only," he replied.

"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"

"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."

"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.

"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.

You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.

"Everything," he teased darkly.

"Fuck."

"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.

"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."

Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.

Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."

"Get out of her and I won't have to."

"Oh please, you won't kill her."

Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.

"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."

You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"

"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."

"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."

Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.

"So why did you heal me?"

"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.

"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"

"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."

"Convinced?"

"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."

"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.

"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"

"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."

"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"

"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."

Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.

"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."

"Well that's boring--"

"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."

Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.

"He's mad at you, isn't he?"

"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel about him?"

"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.

"But I'm so bored," he whined.

"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."

"Shit--no!"

You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.

**********

"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.

Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.

"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.

Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"

"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.

"Sure. Come on in."

Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.

"You alright, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.

Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.

Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."

Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."

"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."

"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"

Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.

"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."

"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.

"Seriously, Lucifer?"

"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."

"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.

"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.

"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."

Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.

"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.

Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.

Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"

"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.

"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.

"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"

You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."

"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.

Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.

"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."

**********

You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.

Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.

"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.

"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"

"You're really no fun, you know that?"

"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."

"I can make it fun."

"I'd really rather you not."

"Too late!" he said gleefully.

You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.

Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.

"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.

"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.

"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."

You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.

Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."

"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."

"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."

"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."

"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."

"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.

"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."

"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.

"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.

He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.

"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"

Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"

You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.

"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."

You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.

"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.

"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.

"No. I'm simply having too much fun."

Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.

"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."

Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.

"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.

"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.

Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.

You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.

"You're a monster," you whispered.

"They call me the devil for a reason.'"

You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.

He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.

"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."

Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."

If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you say that to him?"

Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."

"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.

"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.

"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.

Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.

Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.

If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.

"Please," you whispered.

"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."

"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."

"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."

"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.

Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.

**********

"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.

Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.

"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"

"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."

"Did you call Sam?"

Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."

"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?"

"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"

"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."

You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.

As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"

"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.

Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."

Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"

"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."

Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.

"I second Bobby's comment."

"I wear it like a badge of honor."

You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.

**********

Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.

Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.

Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.

"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.

"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."

"I'll be fine."

Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.

As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.

"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."

Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"

"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.

The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.

Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.

By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.

**********

By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.

"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.

"I slept for 12 hours?"

"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."

"Great," you whispered sarcastically.

"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"

"Of course."

Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.

Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.

"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.

"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.

"Thank god..."

"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."

"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."

"What if I don't want to say yes?"

Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.

The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.

Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."

"So I have a choice?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."

The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.

"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."

You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.

"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.

"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.

Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."

The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"

Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.

"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."

"Will she be okay if I say yes?"

"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.

The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.

"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."

You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.

"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.

"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."

The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"

"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.

"Yes."

A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.

"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.

Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.

"Heal her," Dean demanded.

Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."

"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"

"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"

Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.

**********

Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.

Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.

"How is she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."

"She's strong, Dean."

"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.

"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.

Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.

"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"

Both men nodded.

"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.

They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.

"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."

"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.

Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."

"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"

Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.

"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.

Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."

He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."

Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.

***********

Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.

He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.

He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.

"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.

He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.

"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.

He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.

"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."

"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."

She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."

Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"

"You prayed for help. I answered."

"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"

Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."

Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing. This is my gift to you."

"Nothing is free."

"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."

Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."

She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."

Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.

The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."

"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.

When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.

"Sam," Dean said softly.

Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"

"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."

Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"

Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."

"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"

"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."

Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.

After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."

You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.

"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.

Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.

"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.

You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.

"I have to go," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.

"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"

"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."

Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."

"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."

"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."

You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.

"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."

"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.

Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.

"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.

*********

When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.

Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.

"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.

"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."

"What kind of things?"

"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.

"(Y/N), just tell me."

"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."

Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"

"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."

"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."

You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."

Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"

"I have to hope he went home."

"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.

You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.

**********

When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.

Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.

The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.

"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.

"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.

You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.

Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."

"Sam," he said curtly.

"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I just needed to get out of there."

"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.

"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."

Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"Why the hell are you leaving?"

"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.

"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's fine, Sam. I know."

"There's nothing to know!"

Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."

"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"

Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.

"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.

Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.

"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.

"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.

He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.

You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.

"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."

"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.

"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."

"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"

"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"

Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."

Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.

"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."

His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.

You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."

Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."

"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."

Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.

"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.

He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."

"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."

"(Y/N)," he whispered.

You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.

You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.

When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."

You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."

He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.

"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.

"Please," you moaned softly.

“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.

You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.

You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.

You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.

“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.

You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.

“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.

“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.

You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.

He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.

“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”

“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.

The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.

“Impatient, are we?”

You nodded quickly.

“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”

His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”

You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.

You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.

“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.

You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.

You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.

His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.

“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.

Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.

“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”

“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.

He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”

The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.

Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.

His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.

Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.

Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.

“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.

Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.

He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.

One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.

“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”

You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”

"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.

You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.

He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.

As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.

Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."

You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.

Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.

Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.

"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.

"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.

He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.

"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."

Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.

He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"

"More, please," you begged softly.

He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"

"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."

"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.

Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.

"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.

"Where do you need me, baby?"

"Inside me," you whimpered.

Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"

You shook your head rapidly.

"Words, babe," he said firmly.

"I want your cock, Dean."

"Yeah? Tell me where."

You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.

Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.

Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.

"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.

You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.

Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."

"What?!" you gasped in surprise.

He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.

Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.

While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.

Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."

His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.

Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."

You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.

"Made for me, weren't you baby?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.

His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.

You simply whined desperately.

"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.

One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.

"Dean!" you cried.

He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."

He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.

You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.

Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.

"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.

You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.

He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.

He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.

"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."

You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."

He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"

Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."

"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.

Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.

The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.

"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.

"Dean," you groaned.

"Come on, my love--let go."

Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.

You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.

"Just one more," he begged.

"I can't!" you whimpered.

"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.

You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.

"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.

His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.

Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."

Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.

Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.

He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."

He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."

You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.

Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."

"Yours, Dean. Only yours."

"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"

His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.

He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.

You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.

"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.

"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.

Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

"I'm not complaining," you assured him.

He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.

He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."

"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."

He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."

You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"

Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"

He grinned. "Really."

"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.

His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.

You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."

You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.

You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.

When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."

"But--"

"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.

As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.

You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."

Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."

[zevrra]

never forget—

synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!

tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.

“Crucio!”

The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.

Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.

When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.

When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.

You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.

Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“

“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.

You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.

“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.

Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.

You hoped it would never come down to using it though.

“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.

That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.

Breathe in, scream, breathe out.

Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.

They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.

Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.

“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”

“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.

The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.

When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.

Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.

Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.

His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.

Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.

‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.

“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.

His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.

“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.

“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.

After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.

Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.

“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.

“I’m so sorry.”

Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.

“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.

“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.

“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.

Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.

“What if I had lost you?”

The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.

Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.

Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.

This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.

You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”

Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.

You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.

“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.

A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.

The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.

You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.

“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.

“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.

You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.