#shh keep this between me and the thousands of you

[rad-roche]

might fuck around and do another one of those portraits of that old man. anything can happen on a tuesday

[pucksandpower]

Three Weeks

Day 2 → Chastity 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

Three weeks.

Three weeks is all it took for you to lose your sanity, to be stretched thin by a mixture of longing and frustration so intense it makes you want to scream.

And scream you have — into pillows, into the empty apartment that feels like it’s mocking you with its silence. Max is thousands of miles away, tearing up the circuits in North and South America, while you’re here, in bed, staring at the ceiling with tears of sheer, unfiltered need blurring your vision.

It’s the belt. That damn belt.

It’s tight against your skin, a constant reminder of his control, of how much you want him, of how much you can’t have him. It’s cruel, almost — leaving you like this, teetering on the edge of madness, so close to breaking that you’ve nearly begged him over the phone to let you take it off.

But Max, in his cool, controlled way, simply chuckled. “Patience, schatje,” he had said, voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “I’ll know if you try anything. Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

You haven’t seen him in weeks. His voice is all you have, crackling through the phone, teasing you mercilessly, coaxing more desperate pleas from your lips with every passing day. The sound of engines roaring in the background as he whispered sweet, sinful things to you, telling you how much he misses you, how he can’t wait to get his hands on you.

And now, you’re here. Alone. Aching.

The tears that slip from your eyes aren’t new. They’ve been coming in waves, uncontrollable and humiliating in their persistence. You’ve tried to study, to focus on anything other than the throbbing between your legs, but nothing works. Every time you close your eyes, you see his smirk, feel the phantom touch of his fingers tracing over the belt’s leather, and it’s enough to drive you mad.

The apartment door creaks open, and you freeze, half convinced you’re imagining it. But then you hear the familiar sound of his footsteps, slow and deliberate, and your heart skips a beat.

“Max?” Your voice is small, barely above a whisper, but it carries through the stillness of the room.

He steps into the bedroom, and for a moment, you just stare at him, unable to comprehend that he’s actually here. Max looks every bit the champion he is — tall, broad-shouldered, with that aura of confidence that makes your stomach flip.

He’s home. Days early. And he’s looking at you like you’re his next victory.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “What a mess you’ve made of yourself.”

His tone is soft, almost teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you shiver. He’s right — you are a mess. A pathetic, frustrated mess who’s been counting down the seconds until he’d come home, until he’d finally-

“Please,” you choke out, the word escaping before you can stop it. There’s no dignity left in you, no pride — just raw, desperate need.

Max’s smirk deepens, and he reaches out, brushing a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “What’s wrong, schatje? Did I leave you like this too long?”

The question is rhetorical, but you nod anyway, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.

His eyes darken, and he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Good.”

A shudder runs through you at the single word, your breath hitching in your throat. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, how much you’ve been suffering, and he’s relishing every second of it.

Max’s fingers trail down your body, stopping at the belt’s buckle. He tugs on it lightly, making you gasp as it tightens around you. “You’ve been good, haven’t you? Kept this on just like I told you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, nodding frantically. “Yes, Max, please-”

“Shh.” He cuts you off, his thumb pressing against your lips. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you’ve missed me.”

His command is clear, and you don’t hesitate, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t — Max, I can’t stand it anymore, I need you-”

He hums, clearly satisfied with your answer, and finally, finally, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small silver key. The sight of it makes your heart race, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as relief and anticipation flood your senses.

Max doesn’t rush. He never does. Instead, he takes his time, savoring the moment as he slides the key into the lock, his eyes never leaving yours. The click is almost deafening in the quiet room, and when he finally undoes the belt, you can’t stop the sob that escapes your lips.

He pulls it away from you, tossing it aside carelessly, and then — then he just looks at you. His eyes roam over your body, taking in every detail, every tremor, every breath you take. It’s maddening, the way he’s just standing there, watching you unravel before his eyes.

“Max,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you. “Please.”

But he doesn’t move. Instead, he leans down, so close that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, and he blows — a single, soft puff of air against your neglected bundle of nerves.

It’s all it takes. The sensation is so light, so fleeting, but it’s enough to send you over the edge, your body seizing up as pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave. You cry out, arching off the bed, your vision blurring as you’re torn apart by the force of your release.

And Max just watches. He watches as you shatter beneath him, as you tremble and writhe, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He’s in control — he always has been — and he’s enjoying every second of it.

When you finally come down, your body going limp with exhaustion, he smiles. It’s soft, almost tender, but there’s a wicked glint in his eyes that tells you this is far from over.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you like a second skin. “And I’m going to remind you of that every single day.”

You don’t doubt it for a second.

Max doesn’t waste any time. The second your body starts to relax, sinking into the bed with the aftershocks still rippling through you, he’s on you again, hands firm and unyielding as they slide down your sides. There’s no tenderness in his touch now — no gentle caresses, no soft murmurs. He’s relentless, each move calculated to drag you back into that haze of desperation and desire that’s been your prison for weeks.

“Max, I-” Your voice breaks, but he doesn’t let you finish. He cuts you off with a rough kiss, his lips bruising against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls against your mouth, and there’s a thrill that shoots through you at the possessiveness in his tone.

You nod, even though every part of you is already trembling from exhaustion. But Max doesn’t care. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay, doesn’t check to see if you can handle more. He knows what you need — what he needs — and he’s not going to stop until he’s satisfied.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart with a force that makes your breath hitch. You’re still oversensitive, every nerve in your body on high alert, and when his fingers slide into you, it’s almost too much.

“Max-”

“Shh,” he soothes, his thumb pressing down on your clit with just enough pressure to make you squirm. “You can take it, schatje. I know you can.”

Your head is spinning, the mix of pleasure and pain blurring together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. But even through the haze, you hear the challenge in his voice — the unspoken dare. You won’t beg him to stop. Not now. Not after everything.

He moves his hand with a skill that makes you see stars, curling his fingers just right, his thumb rubbing circles that have you gasping for air. You’re already so close, your body primed to snap at the slightest touch, and Max knows it. He knows exactly how to push you, how to stretch you to your limit and then demand just a little more.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on your face as he works you over. “So beautiful like this. You’re perfect when you fall apart for me.”

You can’t speak, can’t do anything but moan as he continues, his words sinking into your skin and lighting you on fire. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as the pressure builds again, more intense than before.

“Max, I-” The words are swallowed by another moan as he hits that spot inside you, and you arch off the bed, every muscle in your body tightening. “I can’t — I’m going to-”

“I know,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “But you’re going to wait for me.”

It’s impossible, but you try, biting down on your lip so hard you taste blood. Your entire body is screaming at you to let go, to give in, but Max’s grip on your thigh tightens, grounding you.

“Wait,” he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re mine, schatje. You come when I say.”

It’s torture — sweet, agonizing torture — and you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. But Max is relentless, his hand working you with ruthless precision, keeping you right on the edge until you’re sobbing from the strain.

“Please,” you beg, the word slipping out before you can stop it. “Max, please-”

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Now.”

The single word is all it takes. The coil inside you snaps, and you’re falling, tumbling into the abyss with a scream that echoes through the room. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure crashing over you in waves, so intense that it leaves you breathless, trembling, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Max doesn’t stop. Even as you’re coming apart beneath him, he keeps going, pushing you further, dragging out every last bit of pleasure until you’re nothing but a quivering, sobbing mess in his arms.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watches you fall to pieces. “You’re doing so well for me.”

You can’t respond, can’t even think. Your mind is blank, your body limp, completely at his mercy. And yet, there’s a part of you that craves more, that wants to keep going, to see how far he’ll take you.

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, watching as your body shudders at the loss. His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he positions himself above you. The look in his eyes is predatory, his intent clear. He’s not done with you yet — not even close.

“You’re going to give me another one,” he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. “And then another, until I’m satisfied.”

You don’t know how you’ll survive it, but you nod, the need to please him overwhelming every other thought. Your body is already spent, muscles twitching with exhaustion, but when he thrusts into you, filling you completely, every nerve comes alive again.

The first thrust steals the breath from your lungs, the stretch almost too much after everything. But Max doesn’t give you time to adjust. He sets a brutal pace, his hips slamming into yours with a force that has you crying out, your hands clawing at the sheets.

“Max-” His name is a broken plea on your lips, but he doesn’t slow down. If anything, he speeds up, his grip on your hips so tight that it borders on painful.

“You can take it,” he growls, his voice rough with need. “You’re going to take everything I give you.”

Your body responds to his command, the pleasure building again, too fast, too intense. You’re already so close, the edge looming before you, but Max doesn’t let up. He drives into you with an urgency that makes your head spin, his breath hot against your skin as he leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss.

It’s too much, and you’re falling again, the orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you sobbing, clinging to him as your body convulses with the aftershocks. But Max doesn’t stop. He keeps going, pushing you through the pleasure, dragging you back up to that peak again and again until you’re trembling, your cries muffled against his chest.

You lose track of time, of everything, your world narrowing down to the feel of him inside you, the sound of his voice in your ear, the taste of his skin on your lips. He’s relentless, driving you to the brink and pulling you back only to shove you over the edge again.

“Please,” you whimper, your voice barely more than a broken sob. “Max, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he says, his tone firm, unwavering. “One more, schatje. Give me one more.”

You don’t know how you can, your body already beyond its limit. But Max’s hand is on your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears as he looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Or,” he adds, his voice deceptively calm, “I’ll put the belt back on. Another three weeks, just like this.”

The threat is enough to cut through the haze of exhaustion, your eyes widening in alarm. You can’t — another three weeks of this would destroy you.

“Max-”

“It’s your choice,” he says, his tone casual as if he’s not asking you to make an impossible decision. “But you’re going to give me one more either way. So what will it be, schatje? Now, or later?”

There’s no real choice, and he knows it. You’re too far gone, too desperate to defy him now. “Now,” you whisper, your voice cracking on the word. “Please, Max. Now.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, dark and satisfied. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t waste any time. His hand moves between your legs, finding that sensitive spot with ruthless efficiency, and you scream, the sound torn from your throat as the pleasure crashes through you again. It’s overwhelming, almost painful in its intensity, and you clutch at him, your nails digging into his skin as your body spasms with the force of it.

“Max-” His name is a plea, a sob, but he’s not letting up, driving you harder, faster, until you’re convulsing beneath him, your vision going white as the world falls away.

This one is different. It’s not just an orgasm — it’s a breaking point, the moment where your body gives out completely, surrendering to the relentless onslaught of pleasure. You feel yourself falling, tumbling into an abyss with no end, and Max is the only thing grounding you, his hands on your hips, his voice in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, how much he loves you.

By the time it’s over, you’re spent, completely and utterly spent. Your body is limp, your mind blank, and all you can do is lie there, panting, as the aftershocks ripple through you.

Max slows his movements, his hands gentle now as he soothes you, murmuring soft words of praise as he strokes your hair. “You did so well, schatje,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride. “So good for me.”

You can’t respond, too exhausted to do anything but cling to him, your body trembling with the remnants of everything he’s put you through.

Max brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender now as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s over,” he murmurs, his voice softening. “You did so well.”

You nod weakly, your breath evening out as you slowly come back to yourself, the warmth of his body comforting against your own. He holds you close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, grounding you in the here and now.

“Rest, schatje,” he whispers, his lips grazing your temple. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

With those words, the last of your tension melts away, and you finally let yourself drift, safe in the knowledge that you’re in his arms, exactly where you belong.

[lucluvr]

good girls get exactly what they want

ft. zhongli, alhaitham, welt, and jing yuan

he thinks you’re the sweetest girl he’s ever had. a man of principle keeps his word: his good girl gets what they want!

afab chubby reader / heavy praise / teasing / fingering / oral (f!receiving) / a lot of sweet words / nipple play / use of “sweetheart, baby, honey, puppy, etc” reverse cowgirl / dumbification (if you squint) / very soft and sweet <3

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zhongli:

humanity was an interesting concept to zhongli. being thousands of years old, living amongst the liyuen people under many aliases, zhongli has had lovers come and go. he loves passionately and deeply. when his tongue ribs circles over your clit, the pressure of his hands on your hips make you whine.

in his thousands of years of experience, zhongli realized each of his lovers found pleasure from different things, however, he’s never had a lover lose their mind so quickly. forked tongue licking up and down your slit as your slick coats his chin messily.

zhongli’s amber eyes gaze into yours as he restrains your wrists against your hips. whines and soft pants fall from your puffy lips (sometimes he bites when he’s excited)

“li! please sto-“ he lets go of one of your wrists as he slides his finger into your mouth. he slides it all the way to the back as your eyes roll back. the gagging sound has zhongli crawling back into the warmth of your cunt.

“shh, just enjoy it, darling.” he’s always put your pleasure before his. your hands wrap around his wrist, trying to pull his fingers out of your mouth, but he slides a finger inside of you and you’re gone.

a muffled whine comes from you and zhongli gazes up at you again. his lips suck on the puffy pearl between your labia. he watches as your eyes roll back again. he feels your thighs cover his ears and he takes this as a sign to. start savoring the taste of you. he hums against your clit, making your soft thighs shake around him. he removes his finger from your mouth, placing it on your hips. his thumb lovingly brushes against the chub of your stomach.

your hands cover your eyes, back arching into him. he feels your muscles contract— you’re close. he opens his eyes to find your hands again. he pins them to your sides as your twitch and convulse around his fingers and tongue. he can feel you holding back.

his fingers curl upwards, making you shoot upright, but he pushes you back down. tears prick at your eyes as you hiccup wetly, begging him to let you cum.

“please, lili!! need to cum…” your words turn into mumbles as your sweet release is so near. “been a good girl, please lili…” your sweet and whiny tone has him smiling and humming against your clit once more.

as your eyes roll back into your skull, white splotches stain your vision and before you know it he’s sent you over the edge. zhongli detaches himself from your cunt, a string of saliva following his lips.

his wet lips kiss your inner thighs, squishing the soft skin under his fingers.

“my good girl,” he says in his baritoned voice. his words send butterflies into your tummy. without any warning his lips secure themselves back onto your clit. you jolt, your legs pushing on zhongli’s shoulder, but he’s quick. he catches your ankle as tears prick at your pretty eyes.

he tuts, kissing your ankles. he trails his kisses up your calf, into the underside of your knees. he pushes your knees to your chest, having you hold them in place. you sniffle as his thick fingers come back to bully your clit.

“so pretty, baby. be good for me, yeah?” you shake your head and whimper.

“too sensitive, ‘li! no ‘mre…” a soft pout appears on your lips. he chuckles and kisses the tears away.

“my sweet girl, you can take it baby. be the good girl i know you are, okay?” his honey coated voice makes your head feel dizzy. he trails kisses down your soft tummy and thighs before finding his rightful spot again. his hands push up your knees again.

his tongue swirls your clit again and his fingers are back to being pushed into your cunt. he curls his fingers against that spongey spot, making you see stars.

zhongli’s dealt with his fair share of bratty lovers who fought tooth and nail about obedience, yet you? you’re his best girl, his sweetheart. no one has ever been as pliant and as sweet as you are to him. he thinks that all good girls should get to cum hundreds of times, and zhongli will do exactly that. he is a god and his word is final. so if he says his sweet baby gets to cum until he gets her brain all jelly— so be it <3

alhaitham:

alhaitham has never found much interest in relationships. he doesnt go out of his way to interact with others, he doesn’t care much for people anyway. he doesn’t need anyone anyway when he has a wife waiting for him at home. the one who makes him chai every morning, wrapping him aloo filled roti parcels for lunch, the one who massages his shoulders when they become far too sore.

he adores his wife and he’s very open about his gratitude for you. it’s become a routine at this point. anytime he is required to stay in the desert for an extended period of time, he demands you to be seated on his face whenever he comes back.

in the words of the acting grand sage, “it is the least i can do for you.” however you think that he does the absolute most. his hooked nose bumping against your clit makes you bite your thumb as you hover over his soft lips. alhaitham grumbles in annoyance. he kisses your shaky inner thighs softly,

“habibi, sit. it’s okay.” he tries to comfort the anxiety you get every time he does this. his thumbs rub comforting circles in your hips, urging you to sit on his face. his mouth waters at the sight if your clit peaking out from your puffy lips.

“dont wna hurt you, haitham.” your lips curl into a frown as you put your weight into your knees. he kisses your inner thigh, biting them gently. to tease you, he blows cool air onto your clit, making you whine. you press on his head, “stop!”

he shakes his head, “please, baby. let me do this for you…you’ve been so good for me, please?” his voice has a slight desperation to it. it’s as if he doesn’t get to taste you on his tongue in the next few seconds he will go insane.

he’s right though. you’ve been incredibly patient with him. you’ve been at his side while he adjusts to his new job, and casually overthrows the government. due to the whole fiasco, he hasn’t had the time or energy to do anything but kiss you. sure it made you a bit sad, but when he found out he gave you the night of your life. and now he’s lying under you practically begging to make you feel so good, who are you to decline?

“but kaveh…” you mutter into your palms. “what if he hears?” you ask him, voice wavering. he sighs as he rubs his nose into your thighs.

“to hell with him. this is my house. if he had a problem, he can move out.” he grumbles against your plump skin. he kisses the skin once more before turning to you. “come on habibti please?”

he scoots you closer to his lips. he leaves the softest kiss on your clit. “promise you won’t break me,” he kisses the swollen bud again. “i’ll make you feel so good, baby. ‘m so sorry. lemme make it up to my good girl, yeah?” he mumbles into your skin. you have half the mind to question if he’s even talking to you.

his tongue peaks out from his lips, gently licking the bud. he then takes a deep breath and goes for it. his free hand parts your lips, his tongue swirling around the bud, dragging down to your hole. he sees you clenching around nothing and he coos softly. he prods two fingers inside your hole. your whines and gasps urge alhaitham on. he curls his fingers so nicely, your body shivers. you grab onto his hair, tangling it between your fingers.

your cunt is so wet and so sensitive. having your husband between your thighs, making you see stars after weeks of needing him makes you cum so quick. you don’t even see it coming. alhaitham drinks down any slick that comes from you, lapping it up like a thirsty dog.

he gently lifts you up, laying you back down on the bed. he stands tall and proud above you, removing his fitted shirt. one of his hands intertwines with yours, making you smile. his hands travel up your body, squeezing your soft flesh under his big hands.

“my pretty wife. my girl,” his lips suck on the soft skin of your waist. he makes you giggle as he prods at your ticklish spots. your sweet laughter makes him smile. “i love your laugh. i love you,” he whispers against your lips before stealing a kiss from you. you happily wrap your legs around his hips and your arms slide up his broad shoulders.

with his free hand, alhaitham unbuckles his belt. he throws it somewhere and unzips his pants. he pulls his cock out from his briefs, rubbing the tip up and down your slit. he teases your clit, tapping the tip against the poor bud.

you whine against his lips and buck your hips against his. he chuckles sweetly. (a noise only you get to hear from the sage) he presses the tip against your hole, making you furrow your brows. it’s a bit of a stretch, alhaitham realizes as he watches your face.

he reaches down to rub your puffy clit again, helping you ease into his cock. he hears you whimper and whine below him and he smiles against your skin. his lips leave a trail of wet kisses and bits down your neck and chest. he kisses around the areola of your chest. he elicits more whines and needy pants from you.

alhaitham leans up, looking down at your body. he gently pins your wrists about your head. his eyes are as soft as cotton. the sweet smile on his lips, the adoration in his eyes and the thin viel of sweat lining his forehead and collarbone make your heart flutter.

he’s gorgeous, tall, smart, handsome. he is the perfect man. he leans back down, kissing you on your lips. he hands leave your wrists, finding a new home on your hips. his thumbs run over the fat of your stomach, making you whine against him.

he smiles, thumbs pressing into the skin. if he had to pick a physical trait of yours he loved the most, it would be that. he pulls away from your lips, kissing down your body. he pays extra attention to your chest and tummy.

in the meantime, he’s been pushing himself slowly into your sweet, warm cunt. he sighs aloud as he sinks himself in. he watches as you rock your hips, needing him. he completely pulls out and then thrusts right back into, making you yelp.

he flips over, pulling you onto his lap. he watches as you bounce on his cock, hand pressed to his chest. you gasp and moan shamelessly as you bounce on his cock. his hands grope your stomach and thighs, squishing the skin between his big hands. he coos out sweet words,

“fuck, you’re gorgeous, mahiya. keep going, baby.” he rubs your clit with his thumb, “use me, baby. do it,” and you do just that. your eyes fill with tears as you curl into alhaitham. you hide your face in his neck, shamelessly moaning. alhaitham feels your cunt clench around his cock.

“there you go, sweetie. use me, honey. come on,” his eyes watch your tits intensely. he leans up, his lips wrapping around the hardened buds.

“oh fuck, haitham! ‘m gna!” you grip onto his shoulders, vision spotting. he feels your cunt clench around him hard and smiles,

“my good girl. you can do it. come on, baby. cum on me, use me.” the coil in your stomach snaps the moment he calls you his good girl. you gasp and sink your nails into his shoulder. alhaitham hisses and rubs your clit a little faster. he pushes you over the edge and your cum hard.

your mouth is agape, but you can’t hear yourself moan. you collapse into alhaitham’s chest, face buried in his neck. with a few more thrusts, he too cums inside you with a deep groan.

he watches as you push yourself off of him and lay on your back beside him. he rolls onto his side, kissing your neck and cheeks. he gets up from your bed, making you look up at him puzzled. he sinks onto his knees as he parts your thighs.

“time to clean up, yeah?”

welt yang:

sitting in the same position for a multitude of hours at a time is a grueling task. you love welt dearly, but this is your least favorite request of his. you impatiently fidget with your fingers, knees starting to feel numb.

the older gentleman sits in front of you, sketching out every curve and dimple in your bare body. your cheeks flush deeply as you avoid eye contact with him. he puts his pencil down before calling out to you,

“darling, could you please put your hands down?” he asks you with the softest smile. the creases around his eyes are ever more evident. shyly, you nod your head. you reluctantly place your hands back in position before staring around the room. he lightly chuckles,

“and look at me as well? i cannot sketch your face if you do not look at me.” he is obviously teasing you, but it’s all lighthearted. your lips pout softly before staring up at him with furrowed brows.

“you can’t remember my face?” your voice comes out meeker than intended. he shakes his head, before beckoning you over. with pins and needles sticking into your limbs, you walk over to welt who coaxes you into his lap.

“of course i remember it. i just want to see it. can you do that for me? be my good girl?” he whispers those words into your ears before kissing your shoulder.

“is that a simple enough task for you, honey?” he jests, his grip on your hips tightening. he begins to run his hands up and down you body. he squeezes the fat between his fingers, his lips kissing down you chest and neck.

you sigh into his touch, finally able to feel some warmth. the ac makes your skin burst into goosebumps. welt smiles as he watches you melt into his touch.

“i prefer you like this actually. having you sitting on my lap instead of in the floor, it’s more my style.” him and his stupid puns. you giggle into his neck, the ends of his hair tickling you face. you twirl the ends with your fingers, smiling widely.

he swivels in his chair, turning towards the bed. he lifts you up, hands holding under your thighs. you yelp, arms coiling around his neck. he softly lays you down on the bed. cooing softly at you. laying on his soft, grey sheets makes your eyes flutter shut.

you paw at his shirt, pulling him closer. you lips graze his chin, leaving kisses down his jawline. he hums softly, adjusting his face to look at you, he kisses you soft lips, his mouth tasting like the orange candy he ate a few moments ago.

his hands run up and down your thighs, parting your legs. he grinds himself against your sticky cunt, brows furrowing in pleasure. his breathing becomes a little ragged. you tug at him again,

“welt please,” your whiny voice, accompanied with the way you run your fingers over his bulge has him keeling. he bends however you tell him to, do whatever you ask of him. he nods happily, pulling down the waistband of his sweats. he kneels between your legs as he runs a finger up and down you slit.

wet and sticky slick coats welt’s fingertips. you jerk your hips against his hand as the rough edges of his palm run over your clit. you whine into the pillow set beside you, fingers gripping onto the sheets.

he happily obliges to your silent wish and sinks his finger into your cunt. you happily moan for him, your walls fluttering around his finger. he groans as he watches his fingers sink into your heat.

he pistols his finger in and out of your cunt, curling it upwards once your slick gets onto his wedding ring. he sinks another finger into you, pulling a groan from you. it’s a bit of a stretch, but welt is a patient man.

“you’ve been such a good girl for me, honey. can you keep still for a bit here too? i’ll reward you, i promise, my little fawn.” your eyes flutter open to gaze at his handsome face. your pupils morph into hearts as you nod your head. he smiles fondly, patting your head with his free hand. “thank you, pup.” <3

jing yuan:

jing yuan’s back sticks to the headboard as his hears ring with the sound of your moans. he watches as you tits bounce in his face, pretty buds begging to be touched. his eyes rolls back ever so slightly when you circle your hips as you ride him. his hand grips your hip, the other attached to your ass.

he hums as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pussy clenching. his thumb rubs lazy circles over your clit. he listens to your whimpers and honey-glazed whines. you sing better than the birds that flock to him, you’re prettier than any person he’s ever seen, you’re so obedient.

being the luofu’s general, jing yuan has learned how to teach others. some people are driven by praise, other by rewards. his reward for you obedience is this: riding him until you’re satisfied. his hand gently cups your nape, bringing you closer to his face. the tip of his nose rubs against yours as he hears the squelches of your bodies.

he becomes astutely aware of how wet and warm you are. he’s very aware of the way your body reacts to his warm hands running up and down your sides. he chuckles at the goosebumps that break out on your skin as he whispers sweet praises in your ears. you curl into his body, shivering like a baby bird. he coos at your reactions,

“aren’t you so sweet, my angel?” he kisses up the side of your neck, nipping at your collarbone. “the sweetest little thing, huh?” his hands pull you impossibly closer to his body, his eyes now trained on where you two connect.

he notices the thick, sticky, white substance that rims the bade of his cock and smiles. “look at me, angel.” he says in that smooth voice of his. you’re too out of it to hear him. jing yuan tucks your hair behind your ears, kissing your wet cheeks.

“darling,” he nips at your ears. he watches the wheels turn in your head as you process his words. your bleary eyes look into his, unfocused and hazy. he grins cheshire, “enjoying yourself?” he asks small and simple questions. you nod your head slightly.

he decides to thrusts his hips up in an attempt to wake you up, and it does just that. he thrusts into your heat swiftly, watching your tits bounce. his pretty lips wrap around the under-stimulated buds, making you gasp.

“yuan,” you say meekly, pussy fluttering around him. he hums at you, his golden eyes looking up. he lets go of your breasts to coo at you once more.

“my precious girl, you’re doing so well.” he kisses your cheeks and lips before resting his back against the headboard once again. he allows you to use him however you please. you’ve been such a good girl, sitting by his feet at his desk and waiting for his attention.

“there ‘ya go, princess. you can do it, sweet girl.” jing yuan smiles <3

© ilyhaitanii - please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my content, and do not repost it to any other platforms.  

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗔𝗗𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗦 carlos sainz jr. x fem! swimmer! reader (fluff) “. . . you are carlos' pool crush, he gets all nervous around you, but little does he know.”

( main master list | more of carlos sainz ) ( requests | taglist )

"Oh no." Carlos paused, backing out the door and closing it behind him. "What is it? What's wrong?" "She's here." The Spaniard looked at the camera man blinking silently. They were filming a new season of don't blink, which included pre-season training. And that training consisted of swimming.

"I can't swim in these." Carlos mumbled going back the washroom. "What? You chose them." "No I didn't, shh." He was wearing swim trunks with Charles Leclerc's face on, a joke between the two Ferrari drivers. But after seeing you doing your laps? Yeah, he's not going to risk embarrassing himself.

After returning with normal swimming trunks, Carlos hoped into the lane next to yours. You didn't have your swim cap nor swim goggles on, so he didn't have swim cap nor swim goggles on abandoning them somewhere. Safe to say he was influenced by you.

"My eyes are burning." He complained to the camera on the break, rubbing his eyes. "Chlorine doesn't like me." "I thought you had goggles?" Were you talking to him? He looked at you, pointing to himself to check you were talking to him. Unsure what to say next, Carlos feels nervous he'd mess up his image in your eyes. "I could ask you the same." He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

"I lost mine, and the ones I have don't fit me anymore. but I usually wear them. Chlorine does not like me." You mumbled, not realizing you repeated a sentence of his from 2 seconds ago. "Here." You handed him the spare. "You can use them if they fit." And they did. And for the rest of the workout, Carlos felt giddy. Like a girl who stole her boyfriend's hoodie.

"How do you do uhh, those turns, on the wall." "Flip turns?" You asked wiping your eyes to look at him. God bless Rupert for letting him share his breaks with yours. "Do you know how to do font turns in the water?" "No?" "I guess I'll teach you the way I was taught." You laughed smiling, an expression Carlos was sure would bring him enough luck to beat Max throughout the season.

"So curl around the lane rope, in a ball." And he did. "I'm going to roll you, and you're going to breath out of your nose. That's the most important part." But he didn't, quickly forgetting after feeling your warm hands on his calves and back.

"My brain hurts." He breathed in as soon as his head emerged. You laughed face palming. "I told you to breath out of your nose?" "I forgot." "How? I just told you." Man, he was putting 'book humour lessons' in his to do list now. That laugh was equal to a thousand suns.

Soon after, Carlos was able to do flip turns, and you challenged him to a 100 meters race. Which he gladly accepted, knowing you'd win anyways. And you did, even without goggles and going easy on him. "That was a good race, thank you." You reached your hand over the rope to shake his and Carlos gladly took it.

"I'm Carlos by the way." He introduced shyly. "Carlos Sainz, yes I know. F1 Ferrari driver." You chuckled smiling widely. "Pretty cool." It wasn't possible to fall for you even more. He watched as you climbed out of the pool.

"Wait your goggles." You looked back at Carlos who held out the item for you. "You keep them. They look better on you." Hes definitely blushing like a tomato. "I'll be seeing you again Mr. Sainz at the Spanish Grand Prix." You nodded before walking off into the women's shower room.

"I'm in love." Carlos mumbled, which unfortunately for him, the camera heard. "You don't even know her name, Mate."

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"Is that . . . olympic gold medalist, Y/N L/N?" David Croft moved through the crowd. "Y/N! Hello. Such a pleasant surprise." He caught your attention quickly. "Buen día." [good morning] you greeted with a polite smile. "It's certainly a surprise seeing you here. How are you?" "I'm doing well, how are you?" "Well I'm doing good, thank you for asking."

"Which team will you be chearing for today?" "Uhh, no none really. I support all teams and drivers equally. I am rooting for Ferrari's 55 though. I think he deserves a home win." You nodded, a gentle smile covering your face.

"Thank you, Y/N." He shook your hand before moving on to Nymar. Your hands were in your pockets as you walked through the grid looking at your cars. Although this being your first time on the grid, you were not new to the sport.

"You never told me you were an Olympic champion." Startled by the from behind, you jumped turning around only to meet the eyes of the Spaniard through the peak of his helmet. "Y/N L/N, I remember the name now." He chuckled, you could see the smile in his eyes.

"That's a pretty race suit." You complemented standing beside the Spanish driver. "Why thank you." He bowed jokingly. "I was starting to think you weren't going to come." He'd been waiting for you all weekend just for you to show up on race day, which he would say was a good thing because he was on a front row start.

"I promised, didn't I?" You smiled, admiring his eyes through the helmet peak. "Let's make a deal. If you win, dinner is on me tonight." "Add your number to the equation and make it a date." You laughed nodding. "It's a deal."

So you waited, concentrating the whole race on the Ferrari driver. And when you did see him again, Carlos was holding home race trophy with a wide smile. "Where are we eating? Was the first thing he asked, exited about your little date.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

youruser

liked by pieregasly carlossainz55 and 9M others youruser I think he liked the champagne 🍾 congrats @carlossainz55

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Can I drive?" You asked once you reached his car. He looked at you for a few seconds before tossing you the keys. Having dinner with you was much more fun than he expected and now, the two of you would be making your way towards where the Ferrari team would be celebrating their podiums.

"Just don't kill us." He laughed watching you observe all the unique features of an expensive sports car. "I'm a swimmer not a driver." You teased, before starting the car and taking off.

"OH JESUS."

[gladiatorcunt]

- A BLACK RAM AND A BLACK EWE | XI.

unable are the loved to die for love is immortality

nay, it is deity. unable they that love - to die

for love reforms vitality into divinity.

cw: kinktober prompt (blood), vampire!aemond, reader has a vagina, reincarnated reader from my first kinktober w/ aemond, body horror & body horror fantasies involving his eye, “bride” mentioned but it’s relating to dracula, not quite modern times as in the immediate present 2024 but at least a millennium after house of the dragon (at least after dracula came out) , reader is intentionally silent, blood loss & hazy vibes you are just going through the motions,

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“What am I to you, sir?”

A fish to be gutted, you’ll be too empty to be whole without me. “The tide that turns in my favor.”

You wear your own freshly spilled blood like a new dress. A gift for being a wandering traveler and a curious historian, Westeros is a country with so much backstory and you’ve spent all your life only scratching the surface. It’s different from the Kings and Queens of the olden days obviously, though those titles remain in use loosely today. You have recurring dreams where you’re one of them, hanging off a prince's arm, tenderly pecking the corner of his dead jeweled eye, and waving to all the people below you.

Roars of an old gargantuan dragon haunt you, when your car engine won’t start, when your tea kettle freaks out, when the world is silent enough to be left alone with your thoughts. You’ve become obsessed because the only connection you feel is to a world that existed almost a thousand years ago.

Dracula, you’ve wandered into this crumbling red castle as a curious academic only to end up as a bride. Perhaps the locks are clicking into place, history repeated, you passed portraits of a royal who bears a more than striking resemblance to you before the decrepit creature looming in the shadows noticed it too.

“Your clothing is still in your chambers, I have each piece cleaned every moon.”

Aemond, your mind whispers you that name, trails bloody kisses from your weeping neck down to your weeping cunt, inhaling the iron musk simmering under your folds.

“Transcendent. It takes me back in time, my rose. So slack and willing too, of course my darling would not require being compelled to spread their legs for their husband.”

He stands upright, swiftly turning your around so your back is flush against the cold stone of the castle wall.

You take initiative, raising your leg to hang your heel on his shoulder, resting the limb against his torso. Aemond curls a hand around the back of your knee, keeping you splayed open in this position even past the point of pain.

He nudges his hard cock between the lips of your cunny, gliding it through your wetness but never plunging inside. The aphrodisiac from his bite would have you eager enough to not need any preparation, but he fingered you with your blood dripping off his fingers anyway. Partly for the sake of keeping your nectar where it belongs and partly because he wants to paint your statuesque form with your crimson, a painter of a single subject. You’re his muse even now, fueling the melancholic isolation instead of the ravenous war.

You whine weakly, irritated because there’s little room to writhe and roll your hips into him. “Please, sir, husband, I-i’m lightheaded, just fuck me already.”

Aemond chuckles and gently parts your folds with the red tip of his cock, giving your pearl a thousand little kisses. He eats with his eye, the scarlet liquid lubing his length and surrounding it as he warms himself in the chubby cradle of your mound. He’s not normally such a messy eater, but reuniting with your beloved after centuries will drive a man of the night to places he would not go with a sword atop his dragon.

“Shh, my love. The creaking doors in your mind will be right as rain in just a moment, this cunt must be starving, just as I am. We understand each other, this delicious little cunny and I.” He rasps into your ear, encouraging you to slide your hands in his long flowing hair by tilting his head back.

You flutter like a moth into a bonfire and create a path of bloodied handprints up his muscular back and into his silver hair. You’re getting it all dirty now, but Aemond closes his eye and moans hoarsely, as if you have given him a great and uncomparable gift.

He’ll ask you to braid it after, the red intertwining with the near white, your husband now the last weirwood tree in a Godswood.

You project the thought of squirting in his empty eye socket, sitting on his face and positioning your pussy right over the gaping wound. To feel the scarred flesh squelch and twitch, only seeing your cunt in its shadow. Charred black, the bits of wriggling skin remind you of burnt bacon. You both are silent then too, preferring to wade in the waters of comfortable silence because what words are needing for this consummation other than screams?

Aemond is not easy to provoke, in truth, it takes years after years of relentless and snide jabs and barbs for him to go off the deep end into the God’s Eye. However, you have been sunken and ghostly longer than he had been poked at by his brother or the strong bastard dyad. The moment he caught the scent of the ripe fruit in the middle of your thighs was his last brush with sanity.

You wail when he plunges to the depths of you without any warning, only a guttural cross between a hiss and a snarl. Aemond squishes you into the wall of what was once the throne room, where he had dreamed of taking you completely naked and unrestrained until all the new citizens of the kingdom were your children.

You only had the one before the dance, before you were slain like a sheep devoured by an uncaring beast.

“No matter.” He declares aloud. “What better conception tale could we spin for our offspring than this, my rose? With a cunt as tight as yours, strangling me in the same godsdamned fashion, I fear it will be quite short.”

Your blood sticks his skin to yours, the wet smacks of your chests pushing and pulling apart like magnets compete with the squelches his cock makes in your bloody cunt. You thread your fingers through his hair, increasingly strengthening your grip to entice him into a violent kiss.

New blood gushes from your bitten lips and oh if you knew the humiliation Prince Aemond would have felt back then to be lapping at them, hungrier than a mangy dog and grotesquely beautiful. Your head spins, wobbling back and forth on the precipice of a dark cliff. He laughs, genuine in his happiness as he places your head in the crook of his neck.

“Do not fret, I shan't feel a thing, beloved. I crave your teeth in my neck like nothing else.” He coos, an order and not a suggestion.

Your husband's blood runs down his body onto yours when you bluntly bite down after a few clumsy tries, aged wine mixing with the freshly harvested. You feel the burn in your stretched leg as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck you back into the wall, so you teasingly apply kitten licks to the minor bite wound.

You’re making a gruesome mess, bone deep groans and swathed in life’s essence. Aemond’s cock spears you like he’s truly out to kill you, stabbing into your cervix with a passionate rhythm. The gory sight of your combined blood trickling down to the floor from his pendulous balls is driving him to madness. Through the shallow connection he can sense that the earlier blood loss and newly regained high from his devotion have you at your peak.

“There you are, my treasure back where they belong. In my home, on my cock, your magnificent body is bleeding dry for me.”

The hand not holding your leg grasps onto your bouncing breast, his talons scrape your pebbled nipple, pinching the bud as a means of fastening the learned brutality of his affection with a shiny bow.

“This is the wedding in the traditions of my valyrian ancestors that my grandsire never let us have, is that not greatly amusing?” Aemond jokes as you lick into his mouth to harass his fangs.

Your mind is lost in the sanguinary love making that follows, snatched by the claws of a greedy dragon.

A soul born in winter, never to flower in the spring.

[lotusity]

chapter 02: the fuck is ghibli?

atsumu still couldn't fathom it. you were finally back after three whole years, standing in front of him, it really was you. he waited so long for this moment, picturing it a thousand different ways in his head. but seeing you now, out of the blue, hit him harder than any volleyball could. it was like the air was knocked out of his lungs– he didn't know what to say or what to do now that you're here. he needed time to mentally prepare himself, but of course, life never gave him that opportunity. now you're here, just like you've been all his throughout his childhood, yet somehow more beautiful than ever. even though it's been only three years, he thinks you've only grown more and more radiant. 

as the four of you walked to suna’s house, atsumu couldn't help but steal glances at you. you, on the other hand, were caught up in your thoughts, failing to notice his glances. your eyes wandered from osamu to suna, and finally back to atsumu. you couldn’t help but notice how much the miya twins had changed after all these years. they used to be the same height as you, but now they both particularly towered over you, taller, broader, and undeniably more mature. atsumu, in particular, has definitely changed the most in your eyes.. he dyed his hair blond, he was taller, and he gained a lot of muscle– true signs of a hard-working athlete. 

“can't keep yer eyes off me, huh?’’ atsumu was first to break the silence between you two, flashing his signature cocky grin. his grin was a little sharky, though you didn't notice. the boy was trying so hard to contain his nervousness and excitement. 

caught off guard, your face instantly flushed, abruptly turning your head away from the blond to conceal your flustered state. “shut up..!” you stuttered. “i was just looking at how you dyed your hair while i was gone. don’t get ahead of yourself, pisshead.”

“hey, my hair is NOT piss-colored” atsumu shot back, his voice laced with irritation. 

“piss head.”

“NOT piss!”

“piss head.”

“NOT!!!”

“piss head, piss head, piss head–”

“shaddup, ya little twerp!” atsumu yelled, tugging your sweater hood over your head causing you to stumble, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“it’s blond head to you, actually,” he corrected smugly.

“you asshole!” you kicked him in the shins, unable to hide your smile when he whined in pain. 

“hey! that hurts!”

“they still argue like when they were kids…” osamu muttered, shaking his head while a small smile formed on his lips.

– 

“we’re here” suna announced, grabbing his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door. 

“don’t make too much noise idiots. my little sister is sleeping.”

“yeah, atsumu,” you and osamu said in unison, and atsumu’s offended protests were quickly silenced by everyone's hasty “SHH!”

the four of you quickly made your way up the wooden stairs and into suna’s room. it didn't take long to pass out the candy and choose a movie, and in less than no time, everyone was situated in their spots. you and atsumu sat squished  together on the small coach while suna and osamu were sprawled out on the floor in front of you two.

“howl’s moving castle!!  it's one of my favorites!” you gushed as the opening credits rolled on the TV screen, your eyes gleaming with excitement. 

“ghibli movie on top bro” suna agreed, barely glancing back at you but grinning all the same.

“see? suna gets me,” you said, giving him a proud nod.

“the fuck is ghibli??’ atsumu questioned with genuine confusion furrowing his brow.

“oh my god, atsumu…”you say in disbelief, giving him an exaggerated shocked look, "have you been living under a rock all this time?”

suna laughed, and osamu gave his brother a sympathetic pat on the leg.

“It’s okay, atsumu. your first ghibli experience will be with me, so you’re in good hands,” you assured him, flashing him a bright smile.

“yeah, but you already watched it before… i'm not your first, so it's not fair…” atsumu mumbled, sulking more than he intended to. 

you paused for a moment at atsumu’s comment, then leaned close to him, your voice dropping just enough so that atsumu could hear. you didn't want to disrupt the movie for osamu and suna. ‘‘yeah, but you’re the first person i’ve ever watched it with. so, it’s fine.” you gently smiled, giving the blond a small nudge. 

for a moment, atsumu forgot how to breathe. he’d seen that same smile before, years ago when you were kids, when things were simpler. but now, that same smile you gave made his heart flutter in his chest, a strange feeling atsumu wasn't accustomed to. he wanted to tell you how much he'd missed you, and how often he thought about you while you were away– but all he could do was nod, fearing that if he opened his mouth, he’d turn into a stuttering mess. 

you both gazed back at the movie playing on the screen, however, neither of you were really watching—the air between you two was with filled tension and unspoken words. maybe one day, atsumu will find the courage to tell you how you make him feel. but for now, he’d settle for this – just the two of you (too focused on y/n to notice suna and osamu), watching a ghibli movie, while the rest of the world is fading away.

a/n: sorry for being so inactive. school just started for me and i’ve been barely able to get on tumblr 😓 also fighting major writing block!!.. ( will proof read later :p )

tag list: @giocriedpower , @from-mae

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Ten

Day: Saturday, November 4th Time: 12:20 PM EST

"This story is about Cass and Luther, isn't it? Luther said he could send me back to Cass. I gave him a secret to make sure he wouldn't." "And he told someone," Neil guessed. "No." Andrew tapped his fingers a little faster, an agitated rhythm completely at odds with the mocking smile on his lips. "That's too easy. These kinds of secrets are not given out lightly. You know that. We calculate collateral damage and escape routes. We plan and brace for the reaction and fallout. But Luther did not tell. He chose to not believe me at all. And that's a thousand times worse, you see." "That depends on the secret," Neil said. "True." Andrew let go of Neil and wheeled away. "Maybe it comes as a surprise to you, Neil, but I am not a very trusting person. If I tell a man the sky is blue and he tells me I am wrong, I am not inclined to give him a second chance. I see no reason to." "So did Luther not believe you or did he say you were wrong?" Neil asked. "There's a significant difference between the two." "Oh." Andrew half-turned to face him again. "Sometimes I forget you are sharper than you look." Neil struggled with his memory, knowing the answer was right out of reach. He thought about Higgins' visit and Nicky's parents, and then Neil remembered sitting across from Andrew on a bench in the locker room to ask about Higgins' first phone call. He'd thought Andrew's parting words strange but he hadn't understood at the time. He wasn't sure he'd drawn the right conclusions now but it was worth a shot. "He said it was a misunderstanding." The way Andrew went so perfectly still, if only for a second, told Neil he was right. "Shh," Andrew said, soft like he was reassuring a cornered animal. "Shh, don't say that. I hate the sound of that word. I warned you once so you'd know better than to use it again. Why would you risk it?" "Andrew," Neil started. "No." Andrew didn't raise his voice, but he didn't have to for Neil to hear the warning in it. If Neil pushed the matter any further in the wrong direction Andrew would shut down and this conversation was over for good. Neil grasped at straws, looking for the right words to say to keep Andrew talking. Maybe Andrew was right and Nicky's parents would never accept him as he was, but Nicky needed to try.

Art used with permission by Karasawr. Thank you @karasawr!

[noforkingclue]

Desperation

Summary: The end times are near and Crowley has come to you with a proposition.

Author's Note: decided to publish this as it was sitting in my WiP folder for too long and since I've also started re-watching Good Omens I thought now was as good as time to publish it!

You always knew when Crowley and/or Aziraphale were in your flat. Call it an instinct that developed from knowing them for over thousands of years. Which was why it was so surprising to see Crowley standing in the middle of your flat without any prior warning.

You paused when you saw the demon standing there and you carefully shut the door behind you. He twitched at the sound but didn’t turn around. You slowly made your way towards him, nervous about what was going to happen. You frowned briefly at the unfamiliar feeling coiling in the pit of your stomach, it had been years since he had made you feel like that.

“Crowl-“

“Everything’s fucked.”

You blinked at Crowley’s sudden outburst. While you’d heard him swear before it wasn’t that usual. You winced as you heard the sound of cracking wood and looked down, realising that he was gripping your table so hard that he was splintering the wood.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, worried about your friend as well as the future of your table. It was an antique after all.

“Have a cup of tea and tell me what’s happened.”

“What’s happened?” Crowley let out a bark of laughter, “What’s happened is the world’s ending and Hell knows that all of this,” he spun around and waved his hands about, “Is because of me! I misplaced the antichrist and now they’re coming.”

“Oh.”

“So I’m leaving.”

“That’s sensible.”

“And I want you to come with me.”

You froze, midway through making that cup of tea you promised. You looked at Crowley out of the corner of your eye. He walked over to you and put a hand over yours, forcing you to lower the kettle.

“It isn’t safe anymore,” he said, “Everything is going to get destroyed. Hell and Heaven are going to war and it isn’t going to be pretty. We can escape. Be safe.”

“What about Aziraphale?”

Crowley, who had rested his forehead against your shoulder, tensed behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you against him.

“He think he can stop this,” he muttered, “He isn’t coming.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly you were spun around and pushed roughly against the counter. You gasped in shock and Crowley tilted your chin so you were looking directly into his eyes. It was the first time you had properly seen him and you could see the desperation etched across his face. His sunglasses were gone and you were forced to look into his yellow eyes. He grabbed your chin and forced your head in place.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, “It’ll just be the two of us.”

“But what about-“

“Shh, don’t think about him.”

You opened your mouth to protest but Crowley seized the opportunity to press his lips against yours. You squeaked in surprise as Crowley wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you roughly against him. You put your hands against his chest but found them trapped between your bodies. Crowley broke the kiss but remained close. You felt his lips brush against yours and he said,

“Just think about me.”

“And the world.”

“We’ll be safe.”

“We’ll be on the run.”

“We’ll have each other.”

“And Azira-“

Crowley covered your mouth with a hand. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

“I thought I told you not to think about him.”

He removed his hand and brushed your cheek with the back of it. He smile softly and his gaze dropped back down to your lips.

“If Zira thinks that there’s hope then there must be.”

“So you’re choosing him?”

Crowley shook his head and gave you a bitter smile. He stepped away and you gave him a pained look. You took half a step towards him but he put his hands up to stop you.

“I understand,” he said, “one last hurrah.”

“Crowley-“

“It was fun while it lasted.”

“We can still beat this.”

“No we can’t.”

And with that you were once again left alone with only your hope to keep you company.

[mimisempai]

Look at you, you're gorgeous

Summary

Some words said thousands of years ago leave their mark, but what about when they're repeated once again with feelings...

Notes

The one where Aziraphale no longer has any reason to be jealous of a nebula.

On Ao3

Rating G -  587 words

Aziraphale came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, drying his hair with another.

"Still trying to do things the human way, Angel?"

Aziraphale turned his head to his lover lying on the bed and replied with a shrug, "After all this time, you know, don't you?"

Crowley nodded and continued to look at him as he finished drying his hair.

What he hadn't anticipated was that the movement would cause the towel around his waist to unravel and he didn't have time to react before the towel slid to the floor.

Despite the intimacy he and Crowley shared, he still felt a little self-conscious and slightly embarrassed by his body, so he immediately reached down to pick up the towel.

Crowley protested, "Oh no, Angel, don't deprive me of this lovely sight.

Aziraphale chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Idiot." and was about to continue his movement to pick up the towel. 

But in one swift movement Crowley had risen from the bed and beaten him to it, now standing close in front of him, towel in hand.

The demon placed his hand on the angel's bare hip and said in a low voice, "Look at you, you're gorgeous."

At these words, which should have pleased him, Aziraphale froze and hissed through his teeth, "Why are you making fun of me?

"What?"

Crowley raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Aziraphale abruptly grabbed the towel and, holding it in front of him like a shield, replied, "You said that before, remember?"

Crowley, increasingly confused, repeated, "What?"

Aziraphale retorted, "When you created your nebula, you said those very words in an absolutely delighted tone. To it. Not to me. I, who wasn't looking at you at the time, thought - foolishly, I admit - that you were addressing me."

Crowley couldn't help laughing before he countered, "You're so clever, Angel, but sometimes you're really silly, you know?"

Stopping his lover who was beginning to get angry, Crowley grabbed the towel from the angel's hand and dropped it to the floor. Then cupping Aziraphale's face between his hands, he said softly, "Yes, I was addressing the nebula, but today, at this moment, it's you I'm looking at, it's you I find as beautiful as my stars, you're gorgeous, Angel."

He pressed a tender kiss to the angel's lips, then slid his hands over his shoulders before turning him around and pushing him forward.

"Crowley! What are you..."

"Shh, Angel, I want to show you something."

With his hands on the angel's shoulders, Crowley led him all the way to the mirror on the wardrobe, and when they were in front of it, he saw that Aziraphale was looking everywhere but at the mirror. So, from behind, he slid his hands from the angel's shoulders to his head, forcing him to look straight ahead. Then he whispered in his ear, "Look at you, you're really gorgeous."

Aziraphale shook his head and the demon replied, "Yes, you are," before turning the angel around so he could wrap his arms around him. 

"I'll keep telling you until one day you believe me."

Aziraphale, a smile forming on his lips, asked softly, "Even if it's for eternity?"

Crowley brought his face close and said softly, "I'm patient, you know that, don't you?"

Aziraphale chuckled softly before his laughter was stifled by the pressure of the demon's lips. Crowley made the kiss linger as he pulled him towards the bed, intent on using his lips and hands to show his angel just how gorgeous he was to him.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[nonsenseafterdark]

Day One: Thigh Riding

Characters: Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Word Count: 932

Warnings: None

Notes: You can also read it on AO3

Gary struggled with intimacy, specifically when it came to reaching his climax. He had no issues with sex altogether or being vulnerable, and he adored Kyle with the passion of a thousand suns, but after a few sessions of being unable to orgasm, he was beginning to feel ashamed and broken. Granted, the relationship was relatively new to them, and given the high stress of their careers, his inability to climax could only be narrowed down to simply being under a lot of pressure. But Gary ended up putting a lot of his focus onto Kyle whenever they had moments of intimacy and vulnerability. If he couldn’t get off, all he could do to alleviate the awkwardness was to make his partner feel good, and it was something he could be happy about. 

But for tonight, Kyle had requested to try something different, and the two would find themselves laying on their sides, limbs tangled in each other and lips locked onto one another. Eventually, he had slipped his thigh right in between Gary’s legs, his exposed cock hardening against him and earning a soft moan out of his mouth. Kyle took a moment to break off their kiss, grazing his lips along the other man’s jaw until he reached the shell of his ear.

“I just want you to take your time, alright?” Kyle whispered, nibbling on Gary’s earlobe, “Do whatever makes you feel good, don’t worry about me, and don’t think about anything but this...”

Anxiety replaced pleasure as Gary almost froze around the other man’s thigh. For a task that required absolutely no pressure, he was already feeling quite a bit of it. Kyle seemed to notice his hesitancy, to which he just rested his hands gently around his frame, one on his hip, and the other soothing the side of his face. 

“Look at me…” Kyle gently ordered, thumb brushing over his cheek, “It’s only me, Gary. It’s just us, and no one else.”

Gary almost pouted in awe as he examined the patience and love in his partner’s eyes. How could he be so lucky to have someone like him in his life? He nodded before Kyle pulled him in for another slow-paced kiss, and as he sighed into his mouth, he began to experimentally roll his hips against his thigh. Gary could feel himself hardening all over again, repeating the action and moaning softly. 

Kyle hummed pleasantly, his hand moving from his face to trail down his chest, brushing tenderly over his nipple. Meanwhile, his other hand rested protectively on his hip, occasionally moving off to caress his thigh. 

“Mm, I love how you touch me…” Gary mumbled against his lips, gasping out after as his cock ached with pleasure. The feeling almost had him curling forward, moving to wrap his arms around Kyle’s frame as he moved his hips a bit quickly. 

“That feel good?” Kyle grinned, now settling his hand on Gary’s back to steady himself while moving the other to grope at his ass. 

“Keep doing that, please.”

Gary’s legs tightened around the other man’s thigh as he buried his moans into his shoulder, and Kyle sighed into his ear, murmuring encouraging praises and pressing his leg up further. Gary’s grip around Kyle was desperate and his movements got sloppier and sloppier. His climax was so near as arousal continued to build up in his groin. He was so close, and yet he couldn’t reach it. He sobbed out as the thought of this being another failed session crossed his mind. 

“I can’t…!” Gary cried, his movements slowing down, “I can’t…!”

“Shh, yes you can, baby,” Kyle murmured calmly, “Focus on how you feel…”

He followed this up with more tender touches against the sensitive parts of Gary’s body–His nipples, the slight curve of his waist, yet he avoided his throbbing cock. Gary let out a tense moan, almost begging aloud for Kyle to touch him there until he kept that thought to himself. What else could he do to him? Stroke him slowly with one hand while kissing at his neck, or he could take him into his mouth, suck him slowly while teasing the tip. He could even fuck him slowly, kissing at his ear the same way he was now while murmuring whispers of encouragement. The build up of satisfaction was back again, only this time Gary chased it all the way as he focused on the way he rubbed his cock against Kyle’s thigh, the way that Kyle touched him and talked to him softly. 

“Oh fuck…!” Gary gasped out tensing entirely, as a wave of pleasure shot through his entire body. But he didn’t stop, thrusting his hips against Kyle’s leg as he held him protectively and talked him through his orgasm. Ropes of cum shot across his thigh, and even as overstimulation settled in, Gary continued to grind against him. Kyle rubbed his hips gently, humming pleasantly as he trembled against him. Gary eventually came to a slow stop, breathing heavily as his hips twitched against his partner’s thigh. When he was finally able to move, he raised his head just enough to kiss lazily at Kyle’s lips, moaning softly against him. 

“You did so well,” Kyle smiled against his lips, “So proud of you…”

Gary laughed exhaustively against him, sucking at his bottom lip before breaking off and relaxing against him for a moment. Coming down from his orgasm moments later, he eventually found the energy to roll Kyle onto his back while straddling on top of him. After all, the evening still wasn’t over yet.

[hopeforkitten]

There's no time to explain, Tav eats marshmallows from Raphael's claws and then kisses him.

"Did you study the art of chess so hard to ask me for this?"

Their game with Tav finally ended with her victory and they announced their sweet little wish.

"That's exactly how it is."

Tav giggled as she walked away from the bed where Raphael was left alone with a chessboard.

"Princess, it seems to me that for the Raphael family this is something comparable to blasphemy."

Now Haarlep materialized behind him, lazily sinking onto the sheets and not opening his eyes.

"Then he'll have to commit this sin,"

Tav was already heading back to them, taking a small basket out of the closet.

"She keeps it in my house again."

Raphael wailed, stroking his forehead heavily with his hand. But he didn't have time for a full gesture. Tav approached and abruptly lowered the basket into the place of the board, which barely managed to disappear by the will of the now irritated Raphael.

"An unreasonable creature,"

He snorts.

"Hellfire has been available to devils and a bunch of other creatures for thousands of years, surely any blasphemy has been performed with it during this time"

Tav lets go of the basket handle and jumps back onto the bed, so that one leg is tucked under her and the other hangs to the floor.

The girl looks into the basket without even wasting time enjoying the devil's displeasure. The aroma of fresh food reaches the sensitive noses of everyone present. Tav frowns a little, finally considering his actions.

"We'll need wine for something, but so that you don't have time to change your mind, there's a faster option."

Inside the basket, she unwraps a parchment bag and a new smell, sweetness, escapes from it. Tav takes out a small white piece, somewhat checking its elasticity by looking at Raphael.

"A hand, please,"

Raphael reluctantly holds out his hand, not expressing any interest in his observation. Tav impales a white piece on two claws and shapes the hand so that the heat from the center of the palm rises to the unexpected guest on the nails. (it looks like a half-heart gesture)

"Come on, give me a flame"

Tav pulls away, it seems that stars sparkle in her eyes while she hypnotizes his hand. Raphael sighs and a greenish light flashes on his hand. The white cloud quickly darkens and no sooner does it stop than it turns black.

"Well, it's burned out,"

he said, turning his half-closed eyes back to Tav.

"Shh, that's how it should be."

Tav says and approaches the hand with his face, biting off half of the burnt sweetness, the white and soft contents do not last long after it. The girl closed her eyes for a second, tasting and mumbling with pleasure. Such a gesture finally makes Haarlep look with one eye and turn to them. Tav repeats the movement and carefully takes the rest of the sweetness from Raphael's claws.

The  girl puts another white piece in its place.

"Please repeat"

is followed by the command Tav.

"Should I try it?"

Haarlep finally purrs, getting up on his elbow.

"You'll have to work on the flame yourself"

Raphael roars, as if he is not sitting between his lovers, but as if a dozen naughty children have been hung on him and his ability to be nervous has left him.

The flame goes out, freeing the way. Raphael suddenly finds a plus, the image of his little mouse licking his fingers is quite pleasant.... Tav meets his gaze and accidentally touches the skin of his fingers with his mouth, not limited to claws alone. The devil's gaze softens.

This is repeated several more times until Tav offers to try it. The devil is already ready to fulfill her request and slowly pulls his hand to his own mouth. When Tav orders him to stop, he jumps up, balancing on her knees to be level with his face.

"Not like that."

The girl sighs briefly before snatching the treat from the claws into her mouth and clinging to the lips of the devil in a kiss. Haarlep's chuckle can be heard in the background. Tav does not open from Raphael, passing him the contents of his mouth and following him with the movements of his tongue over sharp teeth and sweet lips. And she sits down on the bed again, looking at Raphael's expression with interest. How he tastes and swallows with barely noticeable movement of his mouth.

"I didn't think that you, little mouse, would be the first to bring such games to our bed,"

says Raphael, hiding any of his impressions.

"Can I bring some creativity?"

Haarlep says, looking at them both alternately.

"It is necessary, Haarlep,"

Tav replies, not taking his satisfied, cunning eyes off Raphael.

[shelbgrey]

Just keeping an eye out(Draco Malfoy)

Paring: Draco malfoy X Weasley!Reader

Summary: Ron suspects your going on a date to Hogsmade and the twins deside to keep an eye out to make sure your safe.

A/n: sorry this sucks and its kinda childish or short but I hope you enjoy.

MasterList

Potter MasterList

I only really had two things on my mind. One, get my best friend Harry to Hogsmade and two, avoid my brothers at all costs. Before I stepped out of the castle I peaked my head out to see if the cost was clear. It was the usal, professor McGonagall was collecting permission slips, my brother Percy was Ringling in the 3rd years and everyone else was talking amongst themselves.

Harry came up behind me and continued the one thousand questions he had as we lefted the Gryffindor comroom. “what are you doing?” Harry whispered as walked to McGonagall and the reast of the class that was going to Hogsmade.

“shh” I said hold my hand out.

“but I didn't get-” he started when he saw his and my permission slips in my hand.

“shh” I then smiled and held out the two premonition slips to Professor McGonagall.

“you forged my aunt and uncle's signeters?” Harry asked bafulled. I shrugged. “technically Fred and George forged your aunt and Uncle's signeters.” I said bluntly.

I then sighed and turned to Harry. “I'm hanging out with Draco today... And for keeping it a secret for this long, this is me saying thank you for not telling my brother... Enjoy Hogsmade” I smiled.

Harry raised an eye browse but had a small smile. I knew he didn't approve. Hell, him and Harry can't even be in the same room without bickering. But I think he held mercy because I was his best friend, but I think the real reason is that he saw how much I cared about him. Hell, Harry can even admit Draco has changed. “is it a date?” I shook my head at him.

“what date?” Ron's voice said suddenly. I jumped as Ron stood between us confused.

“it's not a date” Harry quickly said looking at me then Ron with a nervous look. Ron was smarter than most people gave him credit for. He crossed his arms and looked between us.

“who's going on a date?”

“it's not a date” I sated lying to him and myself. I wanted it to be a date but truthfully it was just to friends hanging out... That hurts to say outlowed.

I finally spotted Draco and said my good-byes to Harry and Ron. I carefully blended into the crowd to make sure Ron didn't see who I was with.

--------( ....... )--------

Ron sighed and shook his head. “it's definitely a date... But with who?” he asked Harry. Harry shrugged and looked around.

“I'm worried, she's too young to date!” Ron said dramatically completely ignoring the fact him and y/n were twins.

“Ron she's old enough There's nothing-” Harry was cut off as Ron sighed and looked over to the twins.

“George, Fred, over here” the twins ran over to Harry and Ron with a smile.

“what's up Ronald?” George asks ruffling his younger brother's hair. Ron scoffed and pushed him away

“how you doing?” Fred added looking at Harry.

“good but it's Ron with the problem” Harry said pointing at The red head. George crossed his arms and turned to his brother.

“what's the problem? Do we need to prank anyone?”

“hex? Or we've been working on our puking pestls and-” Fred started but Ron cut him off.

“no and no” Ron sighed.

“then what is is?” the twins said at the same time.

Ron sighed and blew his top like he's been holding it in for a while. “y/n has a boyfriend and she's going on a date!”

“date?!” George said going into over protective big brother mode.

“Boyfriend?!” Fred added as his smile dropped.

“what!” they both said at the same time as they scanned the crowd for their sister.

“he's not her boyfriend and they're just spending the day together” Harry said trying to defuse the problem. George then looked at Ron with his eyebrow raised.

“who's not her boyfriend?” George asked. “and what's the problem?” Fred added.

“I don't know, but I want you to keep an eye on Y/n” Ron said as Harry just shook his head and left to find Hermione. the twins gave Ron a questioning look and looked behind them trying to find their little sister.

“find out if it's actually a date and most importantly who it is” Ron explains. “I just don't want her to get hurt”

“agreed” the twins said at the Same time as they went into 'protection mode'.

“we got it” George said proudly. “good because I'm counting on you guys” Ron said before thanking them and walking away.

George quickly looked around and held his robe up to his nose like batman would. “stealth mode” he whispered and started run forward like a ninja humming the mission impossible them.

“that's not stealthy!” Fred shouted out once George stop and pressed his back up against a tree acting like him and Fred are spys.

“we're spys now Freddie!”

George and Fred both jumped on the bus and put their hoods up and sunk into the seats behind y/n and her date. Fred looked over the seat with caution and his eyes widened when he saw who she was with. It made Fred's blood boil.

Fred slumped back in his seat with anger. “it's Draco Malfoy” he said through his teeth. George sighed looked at his brother with questioning eyes and looked over the seat to see y/n and Draco joking around and looking out window.

“yup.. Malfoy” is all he said. George was the only one besides Harry who knew how Y/n felt about Draco. Out of all her siblings she was closest to George. When she told him she fell in love with Draco he was irritated at first but fully accepted it. George was over protective but he knew everything would be fine.

Fred on the other hand was angry that someone like malfoy was with his little sister. Fred was a 'shot first and ask questions later' kinda guy when it came to his sister. He did have a suspicion about her feelings but never brought it up. As much as she loved Fred she couldn't tell him quite yet.

“what are we gonna tell Ron?”Fred said shaking his head. “... What are we gonna tell Mum?!” he said quickly setting up and a bit louder than nesasary.

--------(1st pov)--------

“so where do you want to go first?” Draco asked lacing his hands behind his back as he walked next to me. I shrugged not exactly knowing where everything is.

“don't know, got any suggestions?” I asked. Before he awnsered I heared a crash I looked behind us and a garbage can was knocked over and Gryffindor scarf was laying on top of the can. I watched a bit longer and saw a long arm reach around the corner blindly reach for the scarf as the owner of the arm hid.

“how about Honey Dukes?” Draco suggested making me look back at him. I smiled and nodded remembering the candy shop Bill would take me and Ginny to all the time. “let's go then” Draco said pointing in the direction to where we were supposed to go.

As we walked it felt weird being with him. Not because I didn't want to be next to him but I could feel eyes judging and staring at us in shock. I sighed and looked down. Draco suddenly stopped in front of me.

“ignore them” he whispered. I looked up and stared at his gray eyes that held a soft expression. “they obviously didn't have anything better to do with their pathetic lives...don't let them judge”

“are you sure you want to be out with a Weasley? I mean our families hate each other” Draco shook his head with a smile. “I don't care what my family thinks... I Want to be here with you” he leaned down and placed a soft but quick kiss on my cheek.

I nodded and looked down as pink tint colored my cheeks. He smirk at my reaction and brushed his hand against mine. “can I hold your hand?” he asked softly.

I chuckled. “Draco malfoy is asking to hold my hand?” his cheeks was suddenly dusted with a light shade of pink as I took his hand. “of course you can” I whispered.

“I just don't want to mess anything up... Or make you uncomfortable” he said as his fingers laced with mine. I smiled softly.

“you have nothing to worry about, your doing great”

Once we got to the shop Draco's hand left mine and he sped up to the door. He quickly opened it and held it for me. “wow, what a gentleman” I said playfully.

“only for you” he said as we walked in the store. I smiled as I looked around, this place never fails to amaze me and every time I come here feels like the first. I'm always amazed by all the colors and the amazing smells in there. The smells of taffy and chocolates surround us.

“it's alright” he said nonshlontly but then showed a smile to show he was joking. I rolled my eyes and pulled him towards a section that had different M&Ms all separated by colors. It was one of those deals where you get what ever color you want. Draco laughed at my enthusiasm and grabbed a jar.

“what colors?” he asked. “umm.. Red of course” he laughed and grabbed pulled the handle and the bottom filled with red. “green” he said and a layer of green fell on the red.

“get some blue too” added. He nodded and as he pulled the lever I heard a crash I looked behind me and a display of all flavor beans fell over. My eye brows knitted together when I saw a certain red head quickly race behind a display of gummy wands trying not to be seen. That certain red had was my big brother George and he was doing a terrible job at not being seen.

“what's next?” Draco's voice said bring me back to reality. I quickly turned back to him and cleared my throat trying to focus on us and not my best friend spying on me.

“umm.. You pick” Draco looked up at all the colors and went to the black ones and smiled. “how about black?” he said and filled it up. There was room for one more color. “alright what's the special color to top it off” Draco asked.

“purple?” I shrugged. He smiled with a nod and pulled the leaver to release the M&Ms. “purple” he smiled and put a lid on after it was filled up.

He handed me the jar with a smile. “we should get some chocolate frogs too” Draco replied as we moved around the crowded room. I arched an eye brow at him.

“didn't know you were the chocolate frog type of guy”

He smirked and grabed four boxes. “there's lots of things you don't know about me Darling” stopped in my tracks and turned a bright red at the nickname. He must of noticed because he simply winked and grabbed my hand to get some more candy.

As we walked by I rolled my eyes because two people were suddenly holding up Quibbler magazines hiding their faces. Not to mention the magazine was upside down. It was of course George and Fred. They must have forgotten they were wearing their one of a kind sweaters with their enital sewed in the middle. I rolled my eyes and pulled Draco towards the shelf that had different gummies.

After awhile we got what we wanted and took it the regester. Before I could get my gallions out Draco payed for everything. I frowned. “you didn't have to do that” he shrugged and carried the bag out.

“Don't worry about it” he smiled. “pluse you don't make a lady pay on a date”

I raised an eye brow. “so it's a date now” I playfully nugged his shoulder with mine. He blushed and stopped. This time he didn't try to hid it.

“well if you don't want it too be-” I stood there with my eye browse raised. Draco malfoy was nervous.

“Draco” I said grabbing his hand.

He stopped rambling and looked at me. “to be honest I would want our first date to be nicer than just a walk through Hogsmade with the rest of the school around”

“this is my type of date if I'm being honest... I'm not into all the overly fancy date stuff”

He smiled softly. “I'll keep that in mind... And thanks for coming with me today... I'm one lucky Bloke to even have a girl like you even look in my direction”

I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck. His gray-blue eyes stared into mine with nothing but love and affection. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine softly. I quickly responded and laced my fingers through his blond hair as his held my waist.

“Shh!”

“he needs keep his grubby Slytherin hands off our sister”

“shut up Fred”

The arguing made me pull away and I looked around. “what's wrong?” Draco asks. I sighed and looked over at the three broomsticks building. Outside two people were setting at a table and hiding behind two Daily Profet papers.

“we got company” I sighed as I marched over to the twins. I ripped the paper out of Fred's hands and he looked up wearing a pair of sunglasses. “sis! Fancy seeing you here”

I placed my fist on my hip and stared at my older brothers as Draco came up behind us with a nervous look. “why are you guys spying on us?”

George looked up at me playing dumb. “I don't know what your talking about... Just enjoying the trip same as you” I rolled my eyes not believing them. I knew when my brothers all too well.

“boys come on” I said softly. Fred sighed. “we just wanted to make sure you were okay” Fred started.

“it's your first real date, we wanted to me sure you were happy” George added. Draco nodded figuring the twins would rat him out. “we won't tell anyone” George stated making Draco look up surprised.

“we'll come up with some excuse... Like we'll say it some Git from Ravenclaw" Fred said. I smiled thanking the boys.

“if he makes you happy then we're happy” George said hugging me. He then turned to Draco.

“but if you hurt her there will be nothing left of you, but some blond hair and an acadent” George Said pointing at the boy. Draco didn't look scared necessarily but he did look at George with respect I've never seen before.

“she's still our little sister and if she comes to us and your the reason for her tears we'll stick a firework up your-" my eyes widened and I placed my hand over Fred's mouth. “thank you Freddie” his muffled voice stopped and I uncovered his mouth.

“thanks boys” Draco said genuinely which seemed to surprise the twins. He nodded and said their good byes.

“don't worry they're harmless” I said nudging Draco. I then snickered. “actually they aren't but we'll be fine”

He chucked and looked down. “no, it's nice that you have family that have your back like that.... I know none of my family would do that... My mother would" I gave him a soft smile.

“I'm sorry” he stopped in front of me and placed his hand on my cheek and blushed as nuzzled into the warmth of his hand.

“it's not your fault and it's fine really” I looked at him sadly but he should nothing but a huge grin.

“come on Weasley smile, we're having fun right?” I laughed softly and grabed his hand as we continued to walk.

“I did have fun with you today” I said to the blonde Slytherin. He smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “me too”

--------(3rd pov)--------

“so who was it?” Ron asked walking up to the twins with Harry and Hermione. Hermione gave the three a questioning look.

Fred shrugged and glanced over at y/n who was with Draco and Neville. “some Git from Ravenclaw”

“yeah I don't think it's anything to worry about” George added. Hermione then put all the pieces together then suddenly slapped Ron on the back of the head. He wined and rubbed his head.

“you got the your brothers to spy on your sister?"

“I just want her to be safe” Ron said still rubbing his head.

George chuckled and looked back at his sister. She was setting in between Draco and her other best friend Neville. The three were laughing and sharing candy. He wasn't worried anymore. Yeah Draco was a jerk but he was certin he'd never hurt her.

[livesincerely]

Buck settles gingerly into one corner of the couch, fingers digging into his thighs. Eddie settles next to him—close, but not nearly close enough, but also way too close, actually, the phantom heat of his body just enough to tease at him—and the weight of his gaze is like a physical thing, unrelenting and inescapable.

He bites his lip, trying desperately not to squirm.

“Buck,” Eddie says after several long moments of silence, and he shouldn’t be allowed to sound like that, all whiskey smooth with just a hint of growl. “Sweetheart, come here.”

Buck’s on him in an instant, tucking himself under Eddie’s arm and curling as close as he can, whimpering softly.

“Shh,” Eddie says, leaning back until they’re reclined against the cushions, their legs tangled together. “I’ve got you. You just gotta tell me what you want from this. How I can make this okay for you.”

Buck opens his mouth but nothing comes out, the words trapped somewhere in his throat. He whines, high and warbling, the beginnings of tears stinging at the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, Buck,” Eddie murmurs, tracing mindless patterns against his back. “It’s okay, cariño, I’m right here.”

“Sorry,” Buck says, turning to tuck his face against his throat. “I don’t mean to be so— This probably isn’t what you had in mind when you volunteered as tribute.”

Eddie brushes off the weak attempt at a joke, his arm curling tighter around his waist.

“It’s not exactly a hardship,” he says lightly. “And I told you, you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“It’s too much,” Buck says, and it is. It’s infinitely massive, this longing that churns inside of him, threatening to crack him open and shake him apart. “It’s— I’m too much.”

“You’re never too much.”

“You don’t get it,” Buck insists. “I’m not— I can’t just—“

Realization crashes over him like a wave breaking against the rocks and he pushes himself upright again. The motion dislodges Eddie’s arm and Buck can’t help but mourn the loss, brief as it was.

“I shouldn’t have let you do this,” he says, putting more space between their bodies. “I never should’ve… I’ll call an Uber, or, maybe Bobby can—“

But Eddie won’t let him retreat.

“Evan,” he says, and Buck’s panicked ramblings fizzle and die. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Eddie,” he says, voice tight with strain. “I’m trying to give you an out.”

“And I’m telling you, I don’t want an out,” Eddie replies.

Those warm, worried eyes scan his face, searching, then his expression softens.

“Hey,” he murmurs, placing a hand over his knee—as if soothing a startled animal. Buck thinks he might vibrate right out of his skin. “It’s just me. It’s just us. All you have to do is let me help you.”

“But—“

“Tell me,” Eddie gently commands, “what you want.”

“You,” Buck chokes out. “Just you, Eds. Whatever you’ll give me.”

“And what if I want to give you everything?” Eddie asks. “What if I want to hold you just like this, and fall asleep next to you every night, and wake up with you every morning? What if I want to lay you out and work you open until you’re trembling on my fingers, gasping for it, begging me to fuck you? What if I want to keep you?” Eddie pauses then, like he isn’t holding Buck’s still-beating heart in his hands. Slowly, he finishes, “What if I want to love you?”

“Eddie,” Buck breathes.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” Eddie asks, steady as ever, holding his gaze.

“Please,” Buck whispers. He can’t say it any louder—he feels like he’ll shatter into a thousand pieces if he tries. “Eddie, please.”

000000

(First part of the fic can be found here 😉)

[a-cix]

Draft - 12.13.23

Taekook. rich tae, waiter jk vibe. 2.2k

“Shh, sh-sh.”

In a room with people of such wealth and class, it is nothing for a man to silence a woman like so, even more so when that woman works for him. Tsk-tsk, their shushes seem to say. It is not said with offense or disgrace. It is not a How dare you, but rather a gentle prod: Do you not wish to be silent?

No one wants to listen to you, darling.

Jungkook watches the man shush the woman, her suit-skirt folding around her narrow hips as she bends to whisper to him, clipboard pushing up under her breasts. His hand moves around the back of the couch and ghosts at her hip, not quite touching her, but threatening to.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says quietly. “I’ll take care of it. Just reschedule my meetings tonight. And you can leave after. I don’t need you anymore. It’s been a long day.”

Jungkook listens. He watches the man, his gold watch flashing in the dim, warm light—a Rolex, Jungkook noticed earlier, from the moment he first laid eyes on this man, because he’s learned to spot signs of wealth. The man is put-together, in a tailored suit, another detail Jungkook can pick up on because he’s learned to spot it. This man is too tall for a generic suit to fit him so well. Besides, the dense fabric, the luxurious cufflinks, the clean seams, no suits made with such quality are available without tailoring. They are all custom-made.

“More champagne, sir?” Jungkook asks, replacing the woman as soon as she leaves. She must be a secretary of some sort, a personal assistant, a professional foot-massager or whatever else men like this typically keep these suited women with clipboards and hushed voices around for. Sometimes Jungkook feels that the women are simply there to make the men look important, as if they’re posturing to the other men in the room. Sometimes Jungkook thinks men like this fuck women just to titillate other men. Peak homoeroticism. Jungkook has slept with more than a few of the men who frequent this place, the ones who keep a few too many women around them, a few too many flashy things on their bodies. The ones who compensate. It always ends the same. He hopes it ends the same way with this man too.

The man turns to glance at Jungkook over his shoulder, one leg crossed over his other, ankle hooked over the knee, making himself look bigger as he expands into his lounge chair.

The man sees Jungkook’s face and smiles.

“What did you say?”

Jungkook smiles back. This man knows what Jungkook said. He just wants to hear it again. From this pretty mouth, this pretty face.

“Would you like some more champagne, sir?”

Jungkook says it carefully. He wants to make this man feel special. He wants him to know that this moment between them, this eye contact, this electricity, is not only real for both of them, but that to Jungkook it is everything.

You can save me, he wants to say with his eyes. Lowly little me.

It’s easier to fool people like this. Feigning ignorance and stupidity and poverty. Men like this, they like poor little boys, pathetic boys, boys who cry and whimper and ask why they get treated the way they do.

The man looks Jungkook up and down, just as Jungkook intended. But his eyes do not linger, not on Jungkook’s second-hand loafers, purposefully scraped up at the tips, or the crusty look of too much cheap gel in his hair. The man shakes his head and raises a hand.

“I’m okay, thank you.” He gives Jungkook a quick smile over his shoulder. Jungkook sees his tired eyes, strangely earnest, strangely heavy. “Long day tomorrow.”

Jungkook nods and backs off with a bow, balancing the tray of champagne flutes with the skill and dexterity of a thousand years.

He later sees the man heading out, his suit jacket folded neatly over his arm, his large hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stretches his neck in slow circles. Jungkook watches like a hawk, flaying the man open with his eyes, until the man looks at him, and suddenly he feels criminal. Caught. As if this man sees everything he has done, laid out before him like a glass box of artifacts. Title: Bad things I have done. Title: People like you I’ve fucked over. Title: The horrible, disgusting things I want you to do to me.

That night Jungkook thinks of the man, his kind smile and his deadly eyes. The way he balanced his single champagne flute in his tan, slender fingers. The way he spoke to Jungkook, offering him a piece of his life: Long day tomorrow. Why would he share such a thing? What did he have to gain from it?

Anything at all?

Jungkook mulls it over but comes up with nothing. Nothing but the cold darkness of his low ceiling and the extravagant loudness of the Seoul streets outside, the hum of electric vehicles he has yet to be able to afford, and the feeling of something chasing him. There are some things you can never get away from. Money, and no money.

Jungkook doesn’t see the man again until a big event comes about. It’s put on by one of the biggest law firms in Seoul, sponsored by the bar association. Because of this Jungkook sees many men he has dirtied his hands with in the past, and he passes by them, chin raised, as though they are nothing. Because they are. He has seen them naked, shrivelled, swollen cock flaccid on their bellies as they look Jungkook in the eye and tell him that he is the first person to ever understand them.

Of course he is. Jungkook is Jungkook. He is magnificent, empathetic, and sharp. So sharp. He cuts people open. He sees their insides.

After those moments of vulnerability, nights spent alone, nights of first-times and brand-new homoeroticism that Jungkook pretends to still be amazed by, he never sees these men again. They don’t come around. Sometimes he muses on how they go about it. They must come up with excuses. They must lie through their yellow smokers’ teeth. I’m busy tonight.

When the victories are magnificent, Jungkook likes to keep them on his bedside table for a few days, maybe even a week. He likes to wake up and see the gold glimmering in the afternoon light that streams into his apartment. He wakes late because he works late. He likes to say that he is young, that the night belongs to him, and to own something means to sacrifice another. The mornings are never his time, pale and grey. It doesn’t match his colour palette. He is a creature of the night. Darkness and orange candlelight, alcohol, red stoplights.

Jungkook likes the way his prizes smile at him. He rises at noon in his crummy apartment and fucks around till 4 pm or so, drinking tea, working out, eating expensive protein off the money of men he lets inside him. Salmon. Wagyu. Sometimes he eats canned tuna to stay humble, but it’s more like a joke he tells himself. Remember when I used to live like this? Not anymore. Now he is clever and his beauty and sexuality is his weapon. He likes to think he knows things people don’t, and that he is better at life than most because of his knowledge.

Knoweldge is money, so you’d think knowledge is everything, but it goes a bit deeper than that.

Clientele is SJ tn, Jimin’s text says, lighting up Jungkook’s phone screen as he walks from the train station down the familiar street that he’s made his own over the past three years. The vibrant lightbox signs and the headache advertisements used to sting, but he is no longer the boy he used to be. This is now his home. This route is where he prepares, plots things out, and becomes the character: Jung Kook. No last name, and not really a first name either. Just a name, whole and complete. An idea. A concept. International Playboy, he used to call himself jokingly, popping his collar in Jimin’s living room after a long night at work together, winding down into the early, buzzing mornings with a few too many shots of soju.

“Evening,” Jungkook says, poking his head into the staff lounge at the back of the building, flashing his signature smile. “Who’s the clientele tonight?”

He already knows, but he wants to know what everyone else knows, what they’re thinking.

“SJ,” Jimin says, standing with two of the girls near the water tub at the back, glowing blue in the artificial light the company pumps into the machine to make their water seem cleaner. As Jimin hands Jungkook the clipboard of tonight’s registered clients, they share a look. Jimin knows that Jungkook already knows, but it’s dog-eat-dog here. Jungkook flashes a smile to the two girls circling Jimin, the piranha-like smiles they give back, vaguely remembering their names and knowing they won’t last, not the way he and Jimin have. Here, it doesn’t matter whether you’re a man or a woman or what your clientele is. What matters is your fluidiuty.

One of the women is too bright. Tries too hard. Jungkook has seen her on the floor, her sweaty smile at men who would never give her a second glance, the desperate shake of her voice. It doesn’t work like that. The other one is too timid. Jungkook has seen her so close to a victory, but she doesn’t bite. No teeth. Just gums. No man wants a gumjob. Men want a bitch with teeth who stays gentle only for him.

It’s only later in the evening, when Jungkook is so deep in his character—International Playboy, Jung Kook, two words, no last name, no first name—that he sees the man again. The man with the ghostly gentle fingers, the man whose strangely kind eyes make Jungkook feel watched.

“I’ll take that glass of champagne this time,” the man says, his lips smiling but his eyes hollow. Jungkook has had an eye on him all night, his mannerisms, his calculated movements, his smiles, his moments of boldness. Among businessmen like this, there are always such interesting hierarchies to take note of. The young man who makes the older men laugh. The older man who the young men crowd toward. Jungkook finds it disgusting. LIke watching cockroaches fuck. But this man is different. He is peaceful and removed from the grime of his circumstances. He does not laugh at crass jokes about women, but he does not cause a scene either, simply bowing his head and stepping away to seek another conversation, another glass of alcohol that he ends up leaving unfinished on a dressed table.

“You haven’t finished your last,” Jungkook says with a small smile, eyeing the last glass of bubbling fluid the man had left on the table ten minutes ago.

“Ah.” The man laughs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s not as nervous as he should be. It’s like he’s faking it. LIke he’s naturally confident, but wants to seem submissive and easy. Jungkook breathes in and out. Feels the conditioned air dry his throat. Maybe he’s overthinking things. Projecting. The man continues, “I, uh, I forgot about that.”

“Mm-hm.” Jungkook gives him a special smile, one of those smiles that say: this is only for you. But he grabs the man another glass of champagne because that’s his job. Toeing the line between professional and unprofessional. Give him 12 hours, maybe 6, and he could have this man naked, panting, swearing, professionalism be damned. Give Jungkook 24 hours and he could have this man fucked for a whole new reason. Maybe. Some people keep valuables easily accessible on their bedside table but some people lock them away, cheap fucks they are.

That’s all Jungkook thinks about: How easily could I steal from this person? How easily can I fuck you over? Sometimes, on the nights he drinks too much or thinks a little too deeply, it gets to him. His mannerisms, his shallowness. Sometimes, when his shift ends early, when he’s tuckered out and drained, he glances at Jimin and sees what they do in a different light. It’s disgusting. Usually he can sleep it off. You’ve gotta do what you gotta do. Lie, cheat, steal. Life is a game and money is the prize. There are no rules, not really.

As Jungkook brings a fresh glass of champagne to this man, his beautiful face, the relieved smile on his full lips, the way he brushes a strand of hair off his forehead as he accepts the glass flute in his fingertips, a delicate shake to his body, Jungkook feels guily for the first time. He thinks about how this will go. First, a statement—you are beautiful. Second, a lie—I’ve never felt this way about another man. Finally, an admission—You feel so good inside.

There’s always more after that, the part Jungkook does in the silence of the room after pretending to fall asleep, where he snatches what he saw in the room when the lights were still on. The things he noted down. He keeps it respectful. He erases from his mind the signs of misery, depression, or genuine existence, whether it be a month's worth of dirty clothes piled in a corner or a letter from a loved one pinned to the fridge. Jungkook never sees the person behind his crimes, and maybe that’s why he’s so good at what he does.

He is transparent. He is invisible and sees nothing.

[p-artsypants]

Blurb #2

I'm going to try to share 70 blurbs from my WIPs and unfinished fics to celebrate reaching 70 posted fics! To help with this endeavor, please feel free to send me a word or a fandom you know I write for, and I'll share the blurb. IDK if I'll get 70 prompts, but let's try it! Send as many as you want!

The male doctor was speaking, in a foreign language he had never heard before. “I’m going to increase the dose by one step, but anything more will put him to sleep.” The woman nodded, then turned her attention back to Hiccup. “I know it a lot to take in. And no one expecting you to accept it right away. But for your own safety, please try to relax.” Hiccup swallowed, his throat dry. Relax? Relax?! This woman was insane if she thought he would just relax. In fact, this whole thing was insane! Frozen for a thousand years? He should be dead! That’s it. He was dead. He had to be. This was some weird thing happening in the afterlife…right? He already lost his dad. Now Astrid, Gobber, and the others? His mom, who he just got back? And…Toothless. Tears leaked from his eyes as panic ran through him like an angry bull. His Toothless, his best friend, he couldn’t lose him. He just couldn’t. “John, I think it’s best if we put him under.” The woman said. “Tooothless…” Hiccup whispered. “Did you say something, dear?” “Where’s Toothless?” The woman seemed perplexed by this, like she didn’t know what he was trying to say. “My dragon. Where’s my dragon?!” His voice cracked. He fisted his hands and pulled against the restraints. “Shh,” the woman soothed. “The black dragon you were frozen with?” His eyes widened. “Yes! Is he alive?! Is he okay?!” “I’m going to keep telling you to relax. Your body can’t take much strain.” She reprimanded. This woman was frustrating, but she had his answers, so he’d cooperate. He unfurled his clenched fists and exhaled. “Good.” She praised. “The dragon is alive. He’s at a different wing in the facility. He has not awakened yet. But his vitals look good.” The other doctor, John, looked confused and a little impatient. “What’s going on?” “Seems like the dragon is this Viking’s pet. A different theory than we had.” “Seems so. But that works to our advantage. He’ll be able to keep it calm and maybe even agreeable.” As the man, John, spoke, he kept a close watch on Hiccup and the heart monitor. “I haven’t the slightest idea of the behavior of Dragons.” “Well, considering up to three months ago, they were a myth, I think you’re fine not knowing.” Hiccup glanced between the doctors as they talked. If this ‘New York’ was far away from where Berk was, chances are, most people spoke this language. And a thousand years? Who knew what Norse sounded like now? “Alright dear,” the woman, Helena, said. “I don’t want you to strain your voice, but can you tell us your name?” That was easy. “Hiccup.” The woman smiled, “Hiccup?” “Yes.” She turned to the man, amusement in her eyes. “His name is Hiccup.” “That’s so mean.” “No I mean it! That’s what the word translates to!”

[iyliss]

Edo for the ask meme!

and also Cecil ;u;

WAIT i only notice now it's "yu-gi-oh characters" i am a fool i am clown but oh well i'll make it work.

So for Edo:

Why I like them/why I don’t: I mean like you know kind of a blorbo by proxy. I think he has this very fun balance of deeply normal AND kind of unhinged. Of very secretive and distant and in deep need of helping and talking to people. Need to control and be guided. But also that's what being a teenager with parental issues does to a guy I can't blame him.

What I like about their appearance: so i kind of love how his hair fits on his haid it's something I really try to replicate like it's this feeling of... technically it IS short but also it's just a bit long. It just falls a bit all over him. Yeah idk how to explain but I love attempting to draw it.

Do I prefer their dub names or original names? so yeah never watched the dub beside specific eps and clips so I'm a chronical sub names user BUT Aster is so cute and fits him so well imo. Actually I probably should use Ed because it's likely what his names is supposed to be but idk i'm used to a spelling and pronunciation and it's really hard for me to switch.

OTP: yeah so like destinyshipping yeah yeah. Made a thousand art and fics and AUs and stories what am I supposed to say. They hit the perfect balance of terminally sad and messy AND very cute and hopeful. Also i do like heroshipping and whatever edo/manjoume is called but i admit i have a hard time being strongly invested in something of GX that is not saiou.

NOTP: Never really saw a ship that I disliked heavily so I'm not going to make myself think of one.

OT3: I have been so sooo many thoughts about edo/saiou/judai combination situationship lately. Listen. Edo having his silly childhood crush and his silly teenage crush on two people (he's actually painfully in love but shh). One clearly has no interest in romantic relationship or is overall very distant with it and the other spends half the time disappearing from public circulation to go deal with supernatural creature. Then eventually he realize that they 1/ spend a lot of time together 2/ are much MUCH closer than he thought 3/ may or may not have something going on between them. But also the entire point is that. Yeah. Neither Saiou nor Judai really are into anything like a "romantic relationship" and function fairly well together because of that but also if Edo just TALKS TO THEM ABOUT IT maybe he can not feel left out all the time. Things like that. I hope someday I can write them but it'll be long and messy.

Favourite card they use: D-time because at some point we tried recreating it with my friend on some tea biscuits with sugar and all and it was fun.

Favourite moment they were in: IMAGINE HOLDING SAIOU'S HAND WOW I WISH THAT WERE ME THAT SO UNFAIR COME OOON no also the whole scene is one of my fav ygo moment ever.

Least favourite moment: uuh i guess i was not quite impressed by the amon mini-arc with echo and everything? But also beside a dozen ep season 3 didn't amaze me the most so it's not on him.

And for apparently the new exclusive yugioh character Cecil Harvey (actually he'd make for a really fun ygo protag. I have that AU somewhere)

Why I like them/why I don’t: Cecil feel like a very classic jrpg protagonist from afar like yeah he's very kind and devoted but has to prove himself after having been driven to do bad things... But also... I think he's very unique in how that kindness and devotion is portrayed. In the average story it'd be about how sad it is for him that he keeps sacrificing himself for others and carry such a burden and so and so... But not in FFIV. In this game his kindness is a burden for others. His devotion, his sense of sacrifice, make other people have to take care of him. His sensibility means his emotions are always the most important thing, and it's so rare for stories to take that angle instead of making the protagonist's emotion well... the most important thing. It makes him a very subtle character, both deeply positive and good but also almost destructive to people around him under the wrong circumpstances.

What I like about their appearance: he is SO pretty, squenix just don't make beautiful men like this anymore. His hair looks so soft and airy, the little jewels and decoration and make up is so cute, and i love how he looks like he glows in the dark. I will say I especially love the fact that Amano's artwork, the pixel art, the remake, dissidia, and all the different re-design he has means Cecil's look is less a defined set of rules and more a direction, certain choices, specific artistic takes. It's less about accurate reproduction and more capturing his essence. It's very liberating to draw.

OTP : ot3 is below but know i'm a baron trio truther and it's above anything else. Cecil/rosa is cute on it's own but I think it lacks a little drama and spice. Cecil/Kain feels a little bit more fun to play with on its own but it's never really just that sole ship to me. Also actually let me call this "favorite relationship" or something and say Cecil and Golbez are the reason I got into FF and their dynamic is the most beautiful thing, so full of pain and love and everything.

NOTP : He doens't have many popular ship so like. None I can think of.

OT3 : BARON TRIO BARON TRIO BARON TRIO these 3 idiots love each other so much in such different way and their relationship becomes sooo interesting and also so gentle when they're all together. And I love how it's frankly very supported by canon? In the DS version whenever 2 are reunited they will think of where is the other and want them here. In DFFOO all Cecil want is to have BOTH of them with him. In WoFF they repeat a scene from ffiv but Kain is sick, Cecil is looking for a cure and Rosa is watching over him. They're just fated to always need all of each other.

Favourite moment they were in: Uuuh practically every scene with Golbez? Calling him "brother" for the first time when they're about to die, and again when they're about to be separated. When he's lost to darkness in TAY but hears his brother calling him so he doesn't disappear. When he tells him he's guiding light in Dissidia. They're so full of love.

Least favourite moment : I guess like most iv fan, when he tells Rosa and Rydia to stay out of the final battle. They kind fo justify it because the 3 guys have very personnal reason to want revenge/answers so Cecil doesn't just think women shouldn't fight but. it does show how this game still can't give female characters as much emotional intensity as the male characters.

Would I fuck, marry or kill them: chosing the fourth secret option where i marry his brother because i so SO want Cecil and Rosa as in-laws.