#the charisma that man oozed had me by the tongue i fear

[ato-catto]

Beast Gohan x Reader

'A very sudden, not quite warranted but enjoyable kiss.'

/kissing/implied cheating (I'm sorry Videl)/intense/childhood crushes

_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_♡_

You couldn't help but stare. The red eyes coupled with the white hair left your gut twisting it a respectful amount of fear. Gohan relaxed into it and rolled his shoulders back, the usually polite and timid man grinning at you with oozing amounts of charisma and cockiness.

"What do you think~?" He purred. "Honestly."

Your mentor and friend looked at you in a way that made your knees weak. You felt like prey under his weighty gaze pray. You swallowed the sensation in your chest down. He was a married man!

"It's... New. You don't seem yourself, something in your face has changed, other than your hair and eyes." You mused aloud.

Gohan crossed his arms and looked bemused. "Like what-"

"You just don't look so.. polite." You laugh softly, his face contorting into irritated disbelief.

"So I look like an-"

"Asshole. Sort of." You began to laugh more heartily, covering your mouth. "I'm sorry Gohan-"

He shook his head and sighed. "I did ask for an honest response." He cocked a hip and placed his hands on his waist, looking you up and down.

You look down, then back up at him. "What? What is it?"

Gohan cracked a fanged smile. "Nothing.."

You reddened, feeling exposed. "Then why are you looking at me like-"

You where suddenly cut off by the young man pushing his mouth to yours, his spiky white bang brushing your forehead. Gohan stepped away after a moment with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"GOHAN!" You touched your lips, your mouth buzzing from either emotions or his energy. "Why did you do that!?"

He grinned, running a tongue over his lip, like he was tasting the remnants of you off his skin. Your insides quaked, and your mind span.

"Why not? You looked all cute and flustered." His voice was gravelly and deep (thanks Beast) and his eyes still wandered you.

It was like he was someone else. Your gut twisted tighter, and you stepped back, but he advanced on you, red eyes piercing into your skin.

You regretted the short shorts and cami now- perhaps you shouldve sacrificed a little sweat and worn a jacket.. even in this heat.The blood red eyes prowled over your skin as he stepped closer... and closer.. until he grasped your shoulders and held you in place.

"Are you trying to run from me?" He husked, his tone accusing.

You shook your head- but you were. He was intimidating.

Gohan felt a pang in his heart. Were you.. scared? Had he overstepped his boundaries-? He deformed and gave you a sad look with his original big black eyes. "Did I scare you?" He sounded concerned.

This was the Gohan you loved. The soft eyes and gentle voice.

But the Beast ... that was something else. It made your face hot and insides tremble with anticipation of something that would never come.

"No-" you breathed. The kiss had stolen the breath from your lungs.

Gohan touched your face, gently, with the tips of his fingers. Your cheeks were hot and blushed.

"Are you sure?"

You nodded. "I just.. why did you kiss me? That was super uncalled for." You crossed your arms. You didn't appreciate having your feelings meddled with- wether he was aware of them or not.

He gave you that signature clueless Son family look, before his gaze faltered and his shoulders drooped.

"Sorry Y/N- sometimes forms come with their own unique personalities, I didnt mean it in any way-"

You sighed. Your feelings hurt, but that was the way it had to be. All those years ago, when you had stayed away to train, you had been absent when Videl had appeared in his life during your teen years. The feelings you had had to be forced away when you returned hearing of their engagement. Your heart had shattered, but you eventually healed, even if some of the fleeting feelings for him never went away.

"No worries." You swallowed again.

Gohan tilted his head. He knew, and had always known. Perhaps Beast Form brought out an emotion he had never acknowledged before? He frowned, looking down at your face when something dawned on his. Something achingly painful.

Oh. He liked you. And had for a long long time.

He stepped back, blinking and bewildered.

You frown. "Are you alright?" He looked like he had seen a ghost.

He shook his head, and squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh." He whined to himself. "This is bad."

Now it was your turn to be concerned and step towards him. "Hey, it's no big deal! It's fine!" You started, grabbing his hands in an attempt to calm him down.

He paused and met your eyes. "It is a big deal." His tone was hushed. "Because I've wanted to do that since I was 14. I've squished it down for years but... I guess the more raw side of me doesn't have the same censor as I do."

There was a thick silence between you both, his hands in yours, your eyes locked on his.

Joy and petrifying fear jumped about in your stomach.

"W-what?" Your heart thrummed in your ears.

"I..I am sorry, Y/N. Truly." His warm, dark eyes searched yours. You could tell he felt terrible.

"Gohan.." He had just admitted to liking you all those years ago. Now he was apologising for that?! "Gohan I liked you too. I still do. But you're married." The words came out strangled. The confidence you had been gathering sifted through your fingers like sand.

Gohans breathing seemed to halt. "You.. what?"

"I liked you." You reiterate gently. "I ... still do. I always have."

"You.."

"Since i was 13 years old, Gohan. Every single day I wrote in my stupid journal that I would marry you when I grew up- but then I left. And you grew up with out me, and that's my fault and my fault alone. Videl is a beautiful wife and excellent mother." You were choking now, tears brimming in your eyes.

"Oh.. Y/N." He soothed, pulling you to his chest and wrapping you in his strong arms. "I had no idea. I.. I want to say sorry but I don't know if that's the right thing to say-"

You bury your face in the purple material of his gi. "Don't apologise for anything. Please."

You stood in a silent embrace for a little while, a thousand words spoken but unsaid. His hand came to your chin and tilted your head up, and he kissed you again, better this time. Gentle and silent, his hands cupping your face.

It was an apology, a feeling gone unexpressed, covered in cobwebs that his kisses gently brushed away. He tasted you, earning him a whimper, rewarding you with a small smile against your lips.

Once Gohan pulled away, he thoughtfully adjusted a few stray hairs about your face.

"I can never do that again."

"I know." You leant into his hand.

".. Even if I want to." He looked at your lips again.

".. Just.. just one more?"

His mouth was on yours again, mumbling "more" against your lips over and over, his hands grasping your waist.

This week was about to get very complicated.

[al-ghvl]

sam claflin as finnick odair has had me in a chokehold these past three days and idk how to deal with it

[sukirichi]

sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Once more in the stalls when you thought of repaying the favor by sucking him off, followed by him growing impatient and hauling you inside his car. Both of you were too tired to go for another round, but were still very much addicted for the other’s touch that mutual masturbation seems like the best option.

Thankfully, Sukuna’s cut his nails, so having three of his fingers buried knuckle deep in you feels like absolute heaven. He’s not complaining about your smooth hands wrapped around his shaft either, especially not when you’ve had enough practice with Megumi to know just how to make a guy lose his mind. By the time you’ve made it back home, Sukuna’s grown hard again, too impatient to make it to the bed before he just fucks you raw against the wall. You’re trembling at his hold, left with no choice but to trust his strength to drop you on his cock and bounce you to his pleasure.

It’s a miracle you’ve made it on the bed.

His digital clock reads a quarter at three in the morning, and for a moment, you worry about how tired you’ll be in class tomorrow when Sukuna’s large hands grips your thighs sharply.

“Goddamn,” he hisses through clenched teeth, chuckling at the irresistible sight of your breasts bouncing before him. Limbs tangled, minds controlled with the primal need to fuck, and moans shared with his deep grunts – you somehow end up on top of him, your thighs feeling like they’re on the verge of giving up as you continue to ride his thick length.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he slaps your ass and causes your hips to rut deeper, forcing that delicious curve of his cock to meld with your walls. You throw your head back, palms planted on his chest, focused only on that burning pleasure between your thighs. “I could fuck you all night long.”

Even though you truly have no wish to, you shake your head, fingers balling into a fist. “I have class tomorrow, need to wake up early,” you protest, the words falling into deaf ears as Sukuna thrusts up into you. He must’ve noticed how you’re growing tired and took matters into his own hands, feet grounded on the mattress to pound deliriously into you. You’re debating whether to be thankful or frustrated he still has so much energy even after hours of fucking, but it honestly doesn’t matter. You’re falling into his chest, arms slipping on your equally sweat-covered bodies. Right now, you just wanted to cum – once more, again, one last time! “Ah, Sukuna, t-too much!”

“Too much?” he laughs and tangles his hand to caress your scalp, the gesture too soothing that you almost forgot he’s fucking you into oblivion. “Want me to go slow?”

“No…”

“Thought so, sweetheart,” his grin is absolutely cocky as he bends his knees in a fold, pushing you until your back rests on his muscular thighs. Your mouth falls open at his hands wrapping around your threat, keeping you right there, hips flat and grinding on his cock. “Come on. Come for me,” Sukuna urges, tightening his hold around your neck a little harder.  

That’s all you need for your vision to blur and see stars, your body’s shaking uncontrollable. He’s thrusting with all his power and energy that it feels like you’re nothing but a hole on top of him, tongue falling open in a wanton manner as your drool trails down your chin.

You look filthy, you feel filthy, and yet, Sukuna sees it entirely different.

“So – fucking – gorgeous, fuck. I woulda fucked you sooner if I didn’t feel weird about it.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he smirks at your half fucked out state. Sukuna rolls his hips in such a mind numbing manner that you end up staring at the ceiling, trying your hardest to decipher the colors of his room to get a grip of yourself. But he feels so hot, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, your puffy lips encasing him with a translucent ring of cum and it feels so fucking good you don’t really understand what he’s saying anymore. “Did you really think I never saw you in my dreams?” he slaps your ass again, the reflexive response of tightening around him pulling a deep groan from the beautiful man beneath you. “I have such a sexy roommate, I couldn’t help it.”

“Then why didn’t you – ah, right there, shit – tell me?”

“Cuz,” he snickers and finally lets you breathe, your pupils blowing wide from the sudden flow of air. Sukuna kneads your breasts greedily, never stopping his mind-numbing rhythm of ramming deep into you. Your body burns, your thighs ache, your pussy feels sensitive but you can’t find the energy to stop him. Instead, you fall prey, failing in your mission to keep him wrapped around your fingers because now you’re wrapped around his cock, and you were quite fucking addicted to it. “You’re my friend’s student. Felt so fucking wrong.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is,” Sukuna’s face contorts into something of discomfort for a moment before he leans forward, his sturdy grip homing in on your hips again. You feel his searing breath on your ear, so parching it puts the warmth of your pussy to shame. “Having you like this has never felt so right, and I’ll keep fucking you if you let me.”

“I-I’d let you,” you concede absentmindedly and capture his lips for a sloppy kiss, tongues giving up on a battle of dominance. You’re always so clingy when you’re about to come, something Megumi never fails to chastise you for, and you fear Sukuna might push you away as you wrap an arm around him, nails painfully scratching down his back. Red marks leave a trail on its wake until his blood pierces through the sheets, the pain manifested through the increasing roughness of his pace. Now it’s your turn to whimper in his ear, pulling the man close and tugging harshly at the ends of his hair. Gosh, were you actually crying? “Sukuna, I’m close! Yes, yes, right there!”

Sukuna groans at the erotic sounds you reward him with. “Come for me, that’s right, ohhhh,” he stills inside you, his seed spilling deep inside you. You wince at the burst of warmth spreading all over your belly and Sukuna chuckles at your bulging belly. He presses down on it to coax his cum to trickle all over his cock, and he’s fucking filthy – you learn easily – to watch you make a mess on his cock with a childish smile on his face.

You push yourself off him and fall to his side, him following suit not long afterwards. The room feels completely stuffed from your intense fucking, the bruises on your body and scratches on his back a huge attestment to that.

Your legs remain wide open as you clench around nothing, his cum oozing out like a waterfall. Sukuna (that damned pervert) dips two fingers into your hole for one last moment just to drench his fingers in it, his eyes lit up in wonder while he lets it web around his fingers. You snicker at his actions and roll to his side, eyes fluttering close from the wave of exhaustion that comes into full force.

The lingerie set you intended to wear for Megumi was now ripped at the other side of the room, discarded, forgotten – merely evidence of a moment that had never been given to him.

Oddly enough, you don’t feel bad, not even when Sukuna faces you, his cheeks squished by his soft pillows. “I’m spent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. My gym sessions can’t compare to this.”

“You go to the gym?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born this gorgeous, you know. I had to work hard for this,” Sukuna gestures to his body. You can’t help but follow the gestures and admire the hard planes of his muscle ripped above one another, the smatter of dark hair leading down his hips adding to his already immense sexual charisma. It makes you want to jump on him all over again, and you have to bite your lip to resist that urge, rolling your eyes at him in favor of letting him know you could totally go for another round.

“Dork.”

“Got me laid though, was worth the effort,” he jokes, and you both laugh.

It’s actually…weird, to laugh so casually with someone like this. It might be normal for Sukuna in his past sexual endeavors, but it’s totally a different thing for you. You and Megumi had never even bothered with aftercare. As long as he’s satisfied himself, he’d clean himself off in the bathroom and wear his sweatpants, winking at you before he leaves you alone all over again. The memory – albeit not really a regrettable one – is still painful each time you’re reminded you’ll keep coming back to him.

But are things different now? Could you go back to Megumi? You only ever wanted to fuck Sukuna because you’re sad and horny, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, especially when your roommate has been nothing but nice to you. Besides, him being a little more decent doesn’t immediately equate he’s different than Megumi.

For all you know, you could just be another cheap fuck. Sukuna is older and sexier, after all, he’s clearly had a lot more experience than you do.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna rests his head on his palms, elbows flat on the bed as he turns to you. The expression on his face is unreadable, but there’s some sort of softness behind it – a softness you’re not really familiar with.

“Hey. I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, not everything, anyway, but whatever we have right now, I want you to know it’s not because I see just as a pretty pussy, okay?” he says with a straight face, but you really shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up because Sukuna smirks, mischievous eyes darting back and forth to your soaked pussy and bare breasts. “Although you do have a pretty pussy. Can I eat you out again?”

With that, you snatch the pillow underneath him and whack it straight at his face. Sukuna laughs at your protests, the sound growing louder and a lot more mocking the harder you hit him. “Gosh, Sukuna, shut up!”

You end up hitting him way too many times in the face that he can’t get his words through, and before you could react, Sukuna’s ripped the pillow away from you. He cages you in his arms and hovers over you once more, his boneless dick grazing the insides of your thigh. It’s not meant to be sexual, and nothing about his stance gives off anything that shows he wants to do it again, but you can’t help but feel aroused, shifting your legs up and down the bed as you squirm.

“Seriously though,” he repeats, “We can be casual, or this could be a one time thing. Card’s all yours to play. If you want to forget everything tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. Let’s just go back to the way we were-”

“Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I was only using you to distract myself?”

Sukuna’s lips flatten into a line. “I’m not stupid,” he says somberly, “I could tell you were still thinking about him. Not that I mind, though, you can’t stop yourself from loving someone,” Faintly, you’re distracted by his thumbs rubbing at your pulse point. It’s so lulling you want to fall asleep, but Sukuna isn’t done talking. “My point is…you don’t have to worry about being weird with me. We could just be friends with benefits, if you want, and not the kind you have with your boy toy either. ”

His blatantly catches you off guard and your eyes widen before they narrow at him, trying your best to hide your embarrassment. If Megumi was painfully honest, Sukuna’s ridiculously blunt that his mere words make your heart do weird things you’d rather not feel.

Careful, you remind yourself, Megumi is the one you want. You have to keep reminding yourself that before your feelings get the best of you. It’s Megumi, it’s always been Megumi and it always will be Megumi. Sukuna is just your roommate who’s nice enough to take your mind off things. You only wish you weren’t lying too much in case he gets the wrong idea you’re leading him on, but then again, isn’t that what you’re doing?

Friends with benefits or not – you still have no plans on getting involved with this guy any longer.

It’s always Megumi. You just really needed a quick fuck, someone whose dick didn’t belong with the guy you’re so hung up on over. The change feels nice and you definitely feel a lot better than the last time you met Megumi, but this guilt…it tastes bitter on your tongue, too heavy to swallow and ignore. It’s always Megumi, you tell yourself again in an attempt to relieve your pain.

Though it doesn’t subside and you huff in exasperation, turning away from Sukuna. You can’t stand looking at him right now.

“I’m not,” you mumble weakly, but the tears – the guilt, the heartbreak of not being Megumi’s lover, the regret and the ironic need to be closer to Sukuna feels all so confusing – all threaten to burst through. You don’t want him to see you cry, that would be lame, so you scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder as you shyly ask, “C-can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to sound too nervous to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just-”

“He never does that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Sukuna answers confidently, surprising you when he grabs your ass to press you flush against him. You’re both sweaty and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, but Sukuna smells so sweet with his lingering cologne that you can’t help yourself from planting your face in his neck, breathing in the little hums he makes. Sukuna kisses the crown of your head – which is a little too sweet than you’d like – while his other hand runs down your back in a slow, sensual manner. Hell, it feels close to body worshipping, and you hate that you silently want more of this. “I’d cuddle you every day if you asked me to.”

“You’re surprisingly sweet,” you voice with a smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles from the low laughter, and like that, you cling to him like he’s the only sturdy pillar in your life. It’s pathetic, maybe even desperate, but if he doesn’t mind, then why should you?

However, the moment is quickly ruined when the bell rings. “Shit, I forgot he was coming over!”

Sukuna glares at the door and holds you tighter, almost possessively, and refuses to let you go even as you squirm under him. “At three in the morning?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet him right now,” you groan helplessly.

Sukuna shoots you a blank look after that, then shoots out of the bed in an instant. You watch as he quickly dresses up in a fresh pair of sweatpants, grabbing a random hoodie from the back of his chair, presumably to hide the scratch marks. You have to hide your smile behind your hand because he looks so drool-worthy with marks littered on his already marked skin, and the fact he lets you mark him is even hotter.

He pauses at the door for a moment, pointing a finger at where you peered up at him curiously. “Stay there. I’ll talk to him and say you went out or whatever. Just make sure to silence your phone in case he calls. Better yet, turn it off.”

Sukuna closes the door behind him, already on the way to the entrance just as you press your ears against the door to eavesdrop. There’s a slight shuffling before the door unlocks, then, “Why the fuck did you lock-” Megumi pauses in his words, and you can perfectly picture his infamous scowl painting his handsome features already. Gosh, you wish you could actually see it, but if Megumi catches you sleeping with someone else, he might totally lose interest in you. That’s not something you could afford to happen.

“Oh. You’re her roommate.” You snigger at his usual what the fuck tone – how Megumi of him.

“Hey, kid, it’s a little too late for a visit, don’t you think?” Sukuna taunts, and it takes everything in you to not burst through the door at that moment. You’re stuck between wanting to laugh and crying, mostly because you would love and hate for Megumi to get riled up. “Do your parents know you’re here? Kids shouldn’t be out this late.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m in uni,” he defends, “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her.”

Deciding fuck it, you open the door by an inch, just enough to peek. As expected, Megumi is glaring behind Sukuna’s shoulders in search of you. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s completely calm, checking his nails boredly as if Megumi isn’t fuming in front of him. And boy, do you know how much Megumi hates being ignored. “Oh, I think she went out, I don’t know why though. House was empty when I got here.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

At Megumi’s imposing tone, Sukuna tilts his head to scrutinize Megumi. Now that you’re seeing them together, Sukuna’s twice the size of Megs, their height and shoulder width too different to start comparing. But knowing Megumi, he’s not going to back down from a tattooed guy twice his size, not even as he sarcastically remarks, “Ain’t you her friend? She should be telling you that kind of stuff.”

Truthfully, you expected he would put up more of a fight. The two of them share a heated staring competition before Megumi scoffs, the first one to look away. “Whatever,” he dismisses, “Tell her to pick her damn phone up. I’ve been calling for the past hour.”

“I think I should tell her to get better friends.”

“What was that?”

“I said get home safely,” Sukuna chirps. Even with his back turned to you, you could tell Sukuna’s just further pressing his buttons with a grin that’s not meant to be inviting at all. Just when you think it’s done, however, Sukuna finishes off with, “Kid.”

Megumi rages. His blue eyes flame into something feral, his fists balled at his sides. He’s always had a temper issue and you nearly reveal yourself to stop whatever fight is about to ensue, but Sukuna’s already closing the door, ridding any opportunity for the younger one to retaliate. At the sound of the door closing, Sukuna leans against the door, his smile still plastered on his face as if he knows you’re watching the whole time. He meets your eyes from the slight peep of his door, waving his hands sarcastically.

“Sukuna, you didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Sorry,” he isn’t apologetic at all. “Next time I’ll be nicer to your asshole crushes,” he adds with a slight roll of his eyes and you punch his chest playfully. You don’t stop him from grabbing your wrists to embrace you in a hug that doesn’t seem so platonic – but not so suggestive either. Sukuna rests his chin on top of your hand while he sways you both side to side, his voice muffled in your hair. “I understand why you’re attracted to him though. He’s really handsome.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agree sadly, thinking of how much it’s really all a waste Megumi has to be like that. “Just sucks his personality ruins everything.”

“A pretty face is always deceiving,” Sukuna suddenly pulls away and holds you an arm’s length away.  “Hey, want to have early breakfast?”

“I think that would be late dinner,” you frown at him.

“Whatever, food is food,” he responds rather excitedly, and you watch as Sukuna rummages through the fridge. Now that you think about it, having sex so much really took a toll on you, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna hides his chuckles through the fridge but you hear him anyway, shouting at him that you’re not hungry. “Wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Now go get cleaned and changed, I’ll make something for you.”

If anyone were to tell you that a good fucking is all that’s needed for you to immediately form a new kind of friendship with your roommate, you’d call them weird. Sukuna isn’t necessarily out of reach, you and him just simply didn’t cross paths.

But now, you’re dressed comfortably in his boxers and the oversized shirt you stole from him, eating the slightly burn cheese sandwich he’s made, sharing conversation and laughing with him like you’ve been doing it for such a long time. Your sandwich is actually half forgotten on the plate as you whack your palms on the counter, “That’s how you and Prof Gojo met? I never would’ve expected you guys fought over a girl!”

“He was fucking annoying in high school,” Sukuna grumbles over an angry bite, “He was getting all the girls that when someone confessed to me, the hottest chick, no less, he straight up punched me in the face,” you laugh as you imagine the memory of a younger, already rebellious looking Sukuna getting smacked by the even more intolerable Gojo Satoru. Sukuna is lost in his own memories as well, shaking his head from around the last bites of his bread. It’s clear he hates the burnt crust judging from the way he turns a little green, but he’s bragged about his cooking skills so proudly that he has to save face in front of you. “Ah, such good times,” he muses before wincing at his own words, dropping his bread in disgust. “Damn, I sound old, don’t I?”

“You’re only like, five years older than me, it’s fine,” you giggle, “I like the maturity that comes with older people. You’re a lot easier to be with than guys my age.”

“Please,” Sukuna smirks, “Just say you like fucking older men. I won’t judge.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would be jumping over the counter to strangle your roommate who’s now running like hell, your laughter bursting through the once silent apartment, you would call them a liar. But now, you and Sukuna are panting on the floor, too tired from sprinting all around before calling it quits. Maybe it’s a lie – maybe this connection will never really be that much of a big deal – but as long as this lie and play pretend of friendship lasts, you’ll just enjoy every sweet moment of it.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed) (bold can’t be tagged) @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma​ 

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Darkness (E.D.)

Warnings: ANGST

"I spent years wandering the Earth. I've been to places most dream about, hope to see one day. But I never saw such beauty until I saw you." He always had a silver tongue, she thought. Since the day he came into her life, Y/N was aware of his charming personality. Ethan oozed effortless charm and charisma no man possessed. It's exactly what she was looking for - a butterfly with dark wings and a soul so gentle it would break in brute hands of today's hookup culture.

That's why she took him into her delicate hands and nurtured her dark butterfly until it grew strong enough to survive without her.

All of a sudden, Ethan didn't need her anymore. He didn't come home at night, or he'd come so late she was already asleep and their dinner date long forgotten. He stopped talking to her about his days, about what is on his mind or what weighs on his heart. He was changed, morphed into someone she didn't recognize anymore - someone who had shown up to her graduation late, smelling like another. A man grown who still hid his phone from view, who lied so carelessly that she couldn't breathe anymore.

The atmosphere turned toxic, her eyes no longer shedding tears for her beautiful, dark butterfly. Being around him felt like walking through thin air with no safe landing, darkness surrounding her with every step. She'd see his face, but feel her touch, shattering her heart to pieces.

Until one night she had enough.

He'd been gone till 4 AM and she refused to sleep before he showed his face. He didn't even ask why she was still up at that hour as if he just didn't care.

Ethan started to undress, winking her way when he noticed her eyes never left his form, getting way too cocky about it.

"Like what you see?" He smirked, tossing his shirt her way as he sauntered toward her with a seductive, playful smile growing on his lips.

But she wasn't in the mood for his games.

"Are you cheating on me?" Her words stopped him, freezing him to his spot only a few feet away from her.

"Tell me I'm crazy. Tell me it's all just a nightmare and that you're going through something that you can't talk to me about and that I'm not the fool I feel I am." Her tone is accusatory, yet pleading. She's seeking some kind of mercy from this handsome man she had come to love so quickly that her heart wasn't sure if it could take it. There was a time when his soul had embraced hers and together they sought to discover the darkest corners. And he still loved her - darkness and all. She loved him too. It's why it hurt so bad to leave a soul who knows the best and worst parts of you. It's why she held onto him for so long.

"Just tell me the truth." She implored him, seeing the crestfallen look taking over his face and his demeanor changed. His shoulders dropped and his eyes fell to his feet, his lips parting ever so slightly as he tried to find the strength to speak.

She didn't wait for him to say anything anymore. She didn't need to. Right before her stood a man who is guilty of what he's accused of, simply afraid of coming clean about it. Maybe he feared losing a soul who knew the darkest parts of him too? Maybe he thought his white-winged butterfly would always be there, waiting for him by the flame of their love that he didn't notice dying. Maybe he just didn't want to be left alone.

"I hope she makes you happy, when I clearly couldn't." She nodded to herself, ignoring the way he stiffened when she stood up and opened their closet.

She had packed her bags beforehand, wanting a quick, clean exit if it came to it.

"Don't go." Ethan finally spoke up, his fingers twitching longingly, wanting to touch her but he feared she wouldn't allow it. His silver tongue was gone, a desperate man taking its place.

"Why would I stay? You're never even home, Ethan. Even when you are, you're not here. Not anymore and I took your crap because I thought that it would get better. Because I thought I deserved this. But I don't. I really don't have tears left to cry over you or this relationship or the pieces of my heart and soul that I've lost to you." She shrugged, grabbing her bags with determination. She finally understood the lyrics of Lose you to love me and Ethan? He started to feel like a shadow that's disappearing forever as night turned to day.

"What if I end it? Would you stay if I end it? I mean, we didn't even have sex. I was just... trying to bury my head in the sand. There so much shit in my head I am scared to tell you." Ethan stepped closer, dangerously close for her liking.

"Don't use generic excuses to justify this. The moment your lips touched hers, we were done. You lost me." She couldn't muster the strength to move as his eyes filled with tears, none of which she'd seen since the night they told each other everything when they saw each other's darkness.

"I know I fucked up, but I can't be without you. Please help me get back to who I am because I hate who I've become. I need you to capture me with your lips and stop me from sinking to the bottom again."

But she couldn't.

Not this time.

"I love you." She whispered as he own voice would crack should she speak any louder, watching him unravel as she had crumbled as well. But staying meant losing her light and she couldn't do that, not when she just found it again.

Something inside him just broke and he could finally see clearly. Ethan saw himself as the villain in her story, the man he didn’t recognize...a man his former self would knock down on the ground. He was disgusted with himself, but he was still aware what he had to do to save his beautiful white butterfly - the light in his life he nearly snuffed out when he let himself get entangled with another. That woman was never Y/N. He only kissed her once and yet he wouldn’t tell Y/N that. In fact, the woman kissed him, but he didn’t stop her. He felt just as guilty. Y/N deserved better than him.

"I love you too...Now go." Ethan stepped back, opening the door for her. His tears never stopped falling, his lips pressed together as he looked back at her.

"Go before I eclipse you. Isn't that what you were always afraid of? That my darkness will eclipse your sunshine? Because I think I did that for a while and I feel like if I ask you to stay one more time you would accept. But I love you. I fucking do. That's why you have to go."

He tore her to pieces, but she had to do this. She wanted so badly to kiss him one last time, to finally let him go, but she couldn't risk it. She'd stay if she even grazed his skin, let alone kissed his lips.

So, she walked away and while she disappeared from his life, Ethan felt like he disappeared too.

Tags: @dolandolll @beinscorpio @godlydolans @peacedolantwins @dolanstwintuesday @ethanhes

[doedreamss]

La Princesse (Part One)

I don’t... I don’t know what to say for myself.  Two days ago I had a dream I made out with Chris Jericho, told it to the hangman gang and my bestie so they could all laugh at me, and instead they all started to point out why that’d actually be something I’d be into and got my brain going a completely different direction so, uh... here’s part one of I guess what’s going to be a sugar daddy Chris Jericho fic????  There isn’t anything TOO exciting in this part, it just sets everything up, but things will spice up an get nasty in the next bit.  

Ship: Chris Jericho x (currently) nameless plus-sized female OC

Summary: Chris Jericho’s eyes have been caught on one of the backstage personnel working for AEW and, as we all know, what Le Champion wants, Le Champion gets.  The only thing is... will she agree to his terms and let him spoil her the way he wants to?

Rating: Mature? (? I guess?? Nothing really bad happens in this part except some “talk”)

Warnings: Sugar baby/Sugar Daddy proposition talk

Length: 2,979 words

Available below the cut

Soft music played throughout the rented room in the upscale high-rise hotel, filling the gaps between conversational lulls but never loud enough that it’d steal conversation.  Though there was an open space cleared for dancing, no one had taken to the floor yet and were instead grouped among friends, holding their beverage of choice and enjoying each other’s company.  The windows along the edge were nearly from floor to ceiling in size, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline with its thousands of lights lit in the windows of skyscrapers, mimicking stars that couldn’t be seen from here.

“You know,” a charming voice familiar to hundreds of thousands of people was suddenly in her ear and she had to swallow the surprise that made her want to jump.  She blinked, catching his reflection in the tinted hotel window before she turned, gaze trailing up the front of his expensive, fitted suit and on those blue eyes that were even more vivid up close.  He gestured with a tilt of his head toward the left side of the building. “You can see Dames Point Bridge lit up over there.”

“Oh,” she started, scrambling, trying to find an excuse to slip away from his presence, not because she didn’t want to talk to him, but because she felt she had no right.

He was Chris Jericho.  A man worth millions with legions of fans following every breath he drew.  The charm and magnetism oozed from him with such potency, the moment he entered a room everyone became aware he was there.  It was as if the air changed and shifted around him.  Sometimes, backstage, it caught her breath and she found herself floundering where she stood, trying to flatten against the nearest wall and hope not to be seen. 

She was no one.  Backstage personnel.  A fly on the wall where Chris Jericho, Le Champion, should be concerned.  Why was he even bothering to give her the time of day?  A quick glance showed three of his closest followers – the Inner Circle – were talking nearby, sitting on couches in a nearby lounge area.  Shouldn’t he be with them?

When her eyes swung back to him he was smiling at her in that way he often did, like his position afforded him knowledge of something everyone else had yet to figure out.

“Come on,” he beckoned, brows dipping as he nodded and opened an arm, easily wrapping her in it.  The pads of his fingers skimmed her bare shoulder as he turned her.  Sensual by accident, no doubt.  “What are you drinking?”

Her eyes jerked down to her flute, half-filled, and back to him.  “Champagne.”

“Ah,” he said, grin spreading with amusement, “a little bit of the bubbly?”

Despite her nervousness at being one-on-one with a man she always feared bothering just by existing near, she couldn’t help but smile too.  “Yeah.”

“Good girl.”  His voice dipped, warm with praise and said low and soft enough that the words would only be theirs. 

She blinked, and her eyes jerked forward, breath subtly catching in her chest.  It hadn’t been intentional, she mentally chided.  His eyes hadn’t dropped purposefully from her gaze to her mouth and he hadn’t lingered there long enough to make her wonder.  It was her perverted mind that let the phrase be something more than it should be.  It was her nervousness at interacting with a star as magnanimous as Chris Jericho, one-on-one, and him seeking her out that had her mind in a jumble.

“Let’s top it off,” he suggested, sliding them to the expensive stone bar top that gleamed, polished to perfection, and showed faint images of the world above in its reflection.  He reached without invitation and plucked the glass flute from her fingers, setting it down and smiling with that same ease of charm he’d approached her with.

She knew as well as anyone how quickly that charisma could sour, if anyone dared deny him whatever he asked for, no matter how minuscule the request.  Of course, a man like Chris Jericho likely wasn’t told no often.

“A flute of the bubbly,” his voice dropped purposefully when he said the word he’d somehow trademarked, and he slid a grin at her, one that was infectious enough to make her smile too, “for this pretty little thing.”  He requested from the man in the white-collar shirt and black vest and tie who’d been making the drinks. 

Had Chris Jericho just called her pretty?

“No, no,” he clicked his tongue and something in his tone suggested the man was dumb for reaching for the mid-shelf alcohol he’d gone to grab, the one everyone else who drank at the company party was happy to indulge in.  “Top shelf.”

“Oh, no, I can’t pay for tha–” she started to say, worried.  The open bar had stipulations and expensive, top-shelf liquor was not included.

He glanced down at her with that same amused expression.  The one that said: You silly little girl.  Hush while I’m talking.  Don’t interrupt me.  I make the decisions.

Her lips pressed shut and she glanced the top shelf of alcohol, which glittered and gleamed with decadent temptation.  Chris hummed thoughtfully under his breath and lazily directed the barkeep down the choices of expensive champagne, all of which a glass alone would pay half of one month’s rent on her studio apartment.  He settled on what she knew to be the most expensive, and she watched the pale gold, sparkling liquid pour into the glass with disbelief.  This was a dream.  This all had to be a dream.

“Add it to my tab.” He said.

She was still thinking it when Chris plucked the flute up by its long glass stem and wrapped her under his arm again, once more dragging the pads of his fingertips ever-so-lightly up the curve of her shoulder and down it.  He steered them a little way away from the nearest bunch of their coworkers, where their conversation couldn’t be picked up by curious ears and stopped them by the window.

“See?”  He asked and peeled his arm from around her shoulders, so his fingers could lightly catch her chin, pinching just briefly as he turned her eyes toward the city life below.  His hand slipped away, the action happening so quickly it was over before she could react.

She struggled to catch a breath and looked out, seeing the cables of Dames Point Bridge glowing a breathtakingly pretty blue-white over the dark, unlit waters of the Saint John’s River.  She had always thought the bridge was pretty, all lit up at night, but she’d never seen it from this vantage point.

“Beautiful,” he marveled, but when her eyes jumped to their reflection, saw he was watching her.  Her stomach twisted tight, and his gaze caught hers in the dark glass.  There was a boldness he wore like no one else could, that came with his vainglorious demand that everyone revere him and him alone.  He was not afraid of speaking his mind.  He needn’t be.  He was untouchable, in demand, and able to metaphorically spin straw to gold.

But why her?

She cheated her body to look away from the reflection and up at him.  He reached between them, placing the champagne glass in her hand and gently guiding the edge to her lips.  His fingers added pressure to tilt the glass, feeding her the first sip of the alcohol he’d purchased for her.  His eyes devoured the sight of her full lips breaking apart, giving him just a glimpse of her wet, pink tongue as he gently poured champagne into her mouth.  It slipped over her tongue, carbonation fizzing and popping against her taste buds. She could look nowhere but his eyes as he tilted the glass, his brows lifting encouragingly.  A slight panic increased her heartbeat, wondering if any wandering eyes would shoot over and see them.

She swallowed as he pulled the flute away and pressed it into her hand, her deep, natural pink lipstick a soft tint against the glass’s edge.  Their fingers touched it felt as if electricity tingled down the nerves in her arm.

“Good?”  He asked and seemed happy with himself before she even had given an answer.

“Mhm,” she said, bobbing her head with a nod and struggling still to figure out why any of this was happening at all.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he said and devoured her righteous gratitude the same way he did every other gracious utterance of thanks he was given by demand.  Something glittered in his eyes.  He reached between them, not shy of invading her personal space (clearly) and brushed her hair back over her shoulders, tucking it lightly behind her ear.  His knuckles barely graced her cheek with the whisper of a touch and it sent shivers down her spine.

She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. She’d always been susceptible to blushing a bright, cherry red and beneath his attentive gaze she was victim to it again.  Helpless, she floundered beneath his sudden, undivided attention.  His eyes left hers to brush across her face and he smiled a small, satisfactory grin. Even beneath her make-up, he could probably see the blush.

“You’re a smart girl,” his voice said gently between them, coaxing her to agree, “surely you can see how special you are.”

“Special?” She felt dumb, gaping in confusion up at him. Since when did Chris Jericho look at someone like her and think she was anything but ordinary?  

Short, thick-figured, and often dressed in jeans, a company shirt, and tennis shoes as she moved crates and ran around taking care of errands for the roster as needed, she’d never considered herself special. The women who knew Chris Jericho, who he called beautiful, were the sort of ones who’d rightfully grace the covers of magazines and cat walks or have “Instagram influencer” on their social media platforms, of which they had tens of thousands of followers.  Not her.

“I think you’re mistaken,” she started gently, nerves wound tight in her belly and head spinning.

“You’re saying Le Champion is… wrong?” He asked, one brow lifting higher than the other, eyes pinned on her the way a cat watched the prey it toyed with before pouncing.

“No! No, I just…” she stumbled with her words and shook her head quickly back and forth. Her dark hair - she’d worn it down and put loose, wavy curls for tonight when normally it was up in a high ponytail - untucked itself from where he’d placed it behind her ear and spilled over the low open neckline of her dress.  He wasn’t letting her awkwardly sidestep the conversation and instead stood by patiently, eyebrows lifted with near impatience, waiting for her to tell him the truth.  She swallowed and took a breath for courage before she tried to say what she was thinking without sounding too pathetic.  

“I just don’t see what someone like you would see in someone like me. I’m…” she gestured down at herself, expecting to point out her plainer clothes, then realized she had dressed up for the event.  She wore a short, black glittering sequined dress that pinched her body and accentuated her curves as if it'd been tailored to her shape.  She’d even forced her feet into heels, her pretty pedicured white toenails glittering in the open-toe of the black stiletto.  “Well, I don’t normally look like this.  I’m just… an assistant.” 

“What if you didn’t have to be?” He pulled his eyes up from where they’d lingered on the rolling curve of her hip.

“What do you mean?”

“Baby girl,” he said softly as if he was exasperated she couldn’t read his mind, exhaling a laugh, making her insides turn and squeeze with a want she didn’t know she had, “I’m surprised you’ve never noticed me watching you backstage.” He reached between them and tucked her hair behind her ear again, only this time the back of his fingers lingered with purpose on her soft, round cheek.

“You… watch me?” Always so intimidated by his celebrity, she did everything she could to avoid getting in his way whenever they happened to be in the same room. She’d figured she was only a nuisance to him, not that he’d actually look for her and watch her.  She’d made friends with some of the other members of the roster who were more… down-to-earth, but she’d never imagined herself anywhere near the social circles a man like Chris Jericho ruled.

“Yes,” he said simply, smiling as he pulled his hand from her cheek.  “It’s hard not to.” Those blue eyes turned a little darker as they fell down her body with deliberate slowness and made their way back to her eyes.  He paused on the champagne.  “Is this the first time you’ve had this champagne?”

“Yes,” she admitted, dropped her eyes to it and took another sip, trying not to show nervousness as his eyes trailed her every move.

“Someone as beautiful as you should only have the finest things,” he claimed with such assurance in his tone, she hesitated to question it.

“That’s… a nice thought…” She struggled through the reality of what was happening, sneaking a glance toward the open room to see if anyone else was looking their way in confusion as to why they were talking alone.  However, everyone else seemed wrapped up in their own merry talks and weren’t paying her much mind.  Though, as she glanced the couch his Inner Circle sat, she caught the quiet eyes of his muscle – Jake Hager – and swallowed as she looked back at Jericho.

“It doesn’t need to be just a thought, princess.”  He said, and she felt that same tight curl in her belly at the pet name.

She frowned, confused.  “What do you mean?”

“Well,” his smile spread wider, chest out as he squared his shoulders, lifting his chin to peer down his nose at her. He opened his palms and gestured at himself.  “Let Daddy take care of you.”

Her eyes widened.

“I’ll take all the worries off your pretty little shoulders,” he said, reaching between them to gently brush his fingers on her arm.  “I’ll buy you whatever you want, sweetheart.  Pay your rent… hell, buy you a new place if you don’t like the one you have.  Money is nothing to Le Champion.”  His smile grew more grandiose and flashed teeth.  He enjoyed flexing what his hard work and subsequent status had brought to him.  He could own the whole damn world if he wanted to.  “You just stay the pretty little princess that you are, do as I say, be available when Daddy needs you… and I’ll give you the world.”

She didn’t know what to say.  All her life she’d constantly joked about needing to find a rich, older man to be her sugar daddy, but she’d never thought it’d be an actual proposition she received.  Chris Jericho wasn’t an unattractive man by any means, though age and a life of luxury lived to the fullest laid a soft layer of fat over where cut, hard muscle had once been.  He was… rather handsome, actually.  She’d always thought so.  And the few touches he’d teasingly graced her with tonight had spread tingles from wherever he made contact on her skin and left her wanting.  It wasn’t that she didn’t want him – a piece of her did – but it was that she feared what it would mean, and what it would change.  Also, she was beginning to worry this was some elaborate hoax, or that she’d fallen asleep and dreamed the entire thing.  This sort of thing didn’t happen to girls like her.

He reached forward and gently grasped the back of her elbow, guiding her in as he leaned forward and placed his lips softly against hers.  The kiss was brief enough to leave her wanting as he pulled away, letting his touch slip from her arm at last. 

“Think about it, baby girl,” he said, “but don’t wait too long.  Daddy isn’t a very patient man when he wants something.”  It was said like a first lesson to understand.  A rule.  He was offering her the world and while he’d spoil her in endless gifts, she had a role to play too, and she needed to play it right.  “The Inner Circle is waiting for their princess.” 

He stepped back, and the air felt strangely cold without his close presence.  She didn’t say anything – couldn’t, her mind was a merry-go-round of thoughts spinning so fast it threatened to break off the axle – but her attention was stuck completely on him.

“Next Wednesday,” he said, lifting his voice just a little, so that it might threaten to spill onto the ears of nearby eavesdroppers.  “I’ll find you before the show and you’ll give me your answer.” 

No questions.  She had one week to make up her mind.  He winked, grin stretching as he finally made to turn around and return to his Inner Circle companions, jerking his chin toward the door.  They got up, one by one, and followed close behind him as they exited.  She only breathed once he’d left the room and stared blankly at the door that’d closed shut behind him, trying to organize her thoughts in a rational manner.  But there was nothing rational about this, was there?

It was as if his presence had cast a spell over her and with him gone, it broke, and she felt more exposed than ever.  It made a piece of her crave him, his attention, his eyes, his touch… she’d never thought herself special enough to have a man like Chris Jericho’s attention… and she’d certainly never thought herself special enough to have a sugar daddy.

One week.  Seven days. 

What answer would she give him?

[tarotdeckshuffle]

Hey there. I greatly adore your writing! I do have a request where maybe Ardyn’s S/O notices Ardyn feeling somewhat down, so she decides to praise him and needs to show him the light and love and how much of a gorgeous king he is; could it also be NSFW?

Angsty Ardyn? CheckPraising Ardyn? CheckLight? CheckLove? CheckArdyn being a gorgeous king? Always a checkNSFW? Check check check!

I hope you enjoy!

@idiotflowerex

Shadows on Your Skin

F!Reader x Ardyn

You’re in love with a man in constant twilight; fighting the darkness within him but walking a shaded path. His goal is simple, make the True King fulfill his destiny. But the path there may make him do atrocious things.

Prince Noctis has just been born and Ardyn stole a glance at the future king. He’s just a baby…a sweet, innocent, giggling mess of a child who held onto the finger of the dark stranger in his nursery. He never cried out at the intruder; rather, he smiled up at his distant relative and cooed at him.

Ardyn knows he’s going to put this child through a life of torment, soon.

You wake in a hotel bed, high up one of the tallest buildings of Insomnia. The door to the balcony is open, letting in a light wind from the city. A new sun stretches over the sky outside. Ardyn sits in a darkened corner of the room, brooding over his plans and hiding from the future.

You sit up and smile at your love, taking a moment to simply admire him. His features ooze a dark charisma and a messy charm that you love.

You doubt he slept at all last night for the young prince haunts his thoughts. “Good morning,” you chime.

The shadowy figure looks up from his tented hands. Tired eyes meet your gaze, accompanied by a forced but gentle smile. “Only because of you, my darling.”

You slip from the bed, wearing only a nightshirt, bare legs gliding over the soft sheets. Your feet meet the cold floor as you glide over to your love.

He welcomes you with gentle arms, but his gaze is still far away. You slip into his embrace and curl up on his lap, resting your feet on the armrest of his chair to keep them from the cold ground. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you nuzzle into his chest and listen to his deep breathing and steady heartbeat.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask. The best part of darkened mornings in your love’s arms is the lack of noise. You can simply whisper to each other and enjoy the peaceful quiet.

He sighs and closes his eyes, resting his head against yours. “Much of the world and all of the future…” he cryptically answers. He is tormenting himself as though he brought the tomb with him, you think.

You raise your head to look lovingly into his dark eyes. Caressing the stubble on his cheek, you assure him, “You are not truly bound, you know. Plans can change. You can make a different destiny.”

He rests his forehead against yours, “If only I could. I am but one man, my love. One man who is so very tired of fighting the gods.”

“Then you need not fight them. You must simply…follow a different path. Walk away from them, if you will.” You retort, trying to find a way to bring your love’s spirits up.

He smiles at you, not wholly believing you.

You search his eyes for a moment, hoping to find a way to ease his torment, to show him the light of day in such a way that he won’t shy away from it. To show him how much you love him.

“You are not simply one man! You are a king, an immortal, and,” you look him in his eyes again, “the love of my life. The gods themselves fear you because you are the only man in all of Eos who can walk in both shadow and light.” You kiss him deeply to seal your statement on his lips.

A single drop of sunshine seems to break through to his heart in a moment of thought. As you pull away from him, his mouth chases yours, kissing you deeper. “And what of you, my darling; do you fear me?” his velvet smooth voice asks.

You smile against his lips before whispering, “No.” That was all he needed. One hand pulls your waist closer to him while the other finds your legs. His fingertips play with the hem of your nightshirt.

“Good.” He proclaims as his fingers set off exploring up your legs and under your shirt.

He leans you back in his arms as his hand slides up your thigh. Your cheeks grow hot and breath heavy, your legs spread apart, obeying his touch. A smile filled with desire crosses his face as his fingers find your entrance.

He won’t let you lift a finger as he feels how wet you are. Rubbing his fingers across your clit expertly, you feel smooth pleasure overtake your body. Soft moans escape your lips. Ardyn rushes to catch them by pulling your mouth into a hard kiss.

You lean into him as he finds your entrance. Slipping two fingers in, making you stretch around him, he starts to slide his hand in and out of you, allowing his fingers to find your every point of pleasure. The sounds you make against his lips thrill him, filling him excitement and desire.

But he won’t stop, not until you’ve had enough. He keeps going, using his thumb now to rub your clit as his pace gets faster. Your loud moans make him lose his grip on reality.

You mind grows hazy, losing track of your hands as all you know is the pleasure Ardyn brings you. Much to his delight, you pull on his hair as pleasure spills over your veins and through your skin. He smiles victoriously as his hand leaves you.

His strong arms migrate under your knees and back, so that he may stand and carry you. With locked, love filled eyes, he whisks you off to the bed and throws you into the cloud. You laugh as you bounce upon impact. Standing above you, filled with lust, your handsome lover removes his trousers and shirt, before crawling over you.

You watch the show, taking in the majesty that is his body: every curve, every muscle, every perfect inch of the man you love.

He joins you on the bed, beginning by sliding his hands up your nightshirt to remove it, laying you bare before him. Taking a moment to admire you, his gaze rests on your loving eyes. He lets his mouth show you how perfect your body is, finding your breasts and teasing them as you try desperately to find a way to repay him.

You find it! As his guard is down, taking in the radiance of your body, you flip the man onto his back. He’s shocked for a moment before realizing what he’s in store for and gazing lovingly up at you. You perch on top of him like a queen on her throne.

You gaze down at him, running your hands over his chest. “You’re perfect, you know that, right?” You ask. He is again stunned, before letting out a light laugh.

It’s your turn to tease him. You run your lips over his jaw, leaving small bite marks in your wake, before trailing down his neck. At the base of his neck, you make sure to leave a mark, hearing him gasp in pleasure at your confidence. When he looks in the mirror, let him know that you love him.

Your mouth trails down his chest as your hands explore his body. He struggles to find any grip on you. You smile as you reach his hard member. He moans in anticipation.

You run your tongue up his length before wrapping your lips around him. With teasingly slow motions, you start taking him in, bit by bit. His hips buckle with excitement.

With one fast motion that makes him cry, you take his whole length to the back of your throat, letting it linger in your mouth before pulling away, only to do it to him again. Sweat beads on his brow.

You pull away as he begins to tremble, smiling in victory. Sliding up his body, you kiss his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “I love you,” you whisper through kisses.

“I know,” he replies, wanting to show you more than tell you. His trembles ease as his hands enthusiastically explore your body, cupping your ass and squeezing, wanting so much more.

You oblige; your love deserves it all.

You slide onto him, stretching again as you take in his great length. Your moans harmonize as simultaneous pleasure takes over.

Your hips sway and breasts bounce as you set the pace. You take it slow at first to let the two of you settle in, but faster as pleasure builds.

Ardyn can’t take it, he must meet your lips. He grabs your hips as he sits up to meet your mouth, never hindering your pace. His kisses are lustful, teeth joining in to pull on your lips, drinking in the sounds you make.

His name spills over your lips as another wave of pleasure spreads over your body. It’s the breaking point for him: hearing his name used in lust and feeling your entire body tremble. Dark and smooth moans escape his lips as his pleasure spills into you.

You ride him until the waves ease. Sitting in his lap, you kiss him through smiles. I love you’s pepper the air around the two of you.

The two of you settle into the bed, tangled in each other’s arms. Echos drift up as Insomnia wakes in the streets below.

“Let’s stay in bed, today.” You whisper into his chest.

“That is an excellent idea, sunshine.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head.

[shadowfaximpala]

Halo on Fire

MASTERLIST

Summary: The boys had kept you safe for long enough, but anything with an essence for the unusual eventually breaks loose, but this time the break is permanent. A blood spell gone awry awakens dormant powers, as you struggle to come to terms with the flood gates bursting you find yourself attached to a certain demon who oozes charisma and sass…

Tags: Reader Insert, Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Crowley. Castiel, Multi-Chapter fic

Pairing: Reader!Nephilim x Crowley

Warnings: Language

Notes: I’ve been busting my arse off at work but I’m finally catching up on my writing. I’m glad I managed to finish this chapter, I’m sorry if it seems like filler at the moment but it’s heating up in the next few chapters I promise! Stay tuned. 

Chapter Three

Halo on fire, The midnight knows it well.

Fast is desire, creates another hell.

The impala sped off down the long deserted road; The sun hung low in the sky signalling the dawning of a new day, greeting the early risers with a warm glow resonating off the earth below.

Bon Jovi played swiftly through the speakers, not too loud as to distract from conversation but just enough that you could hear the crisp riffs and clean singing. You tapped your foot to the tune, Dean was singing off key in the front.

“Oh man I’m starving. We should grab some groceries while we’re out. Y/N you're in charge of food this week, I’d rather die than eat kale and whatever the hell else Sammy stuffed in the refrigerator.”

You let out a soft laugh. “I'm with you on that one,” you agreed. “Don't worry Sam I’ll make sure your disgusting health needs are met.”

“Y/N, tinned beans and chocolate aren't healthy, just so you know.” There was a playful tone to Sam’s voice.

“Actually my human friend, Beans are full of fibre!” You retorted with added enthusiasm. “And dark chocolate is healthy for the mind!” You could taste the delicious delicacy on your tongue, it made you salivate just thinking about it.

“Not if you eat a whole king size bar,” the lanky Winchester snorted.

“Oh cram it Colossus. It's good for your menstral cramps,” you jested. You could hear Dean howl with laughter, even Castiel had a wry smile on his face, looking like he understood that reference.

The diner was laid out in waiting, just screaming for the whole kitchen to be decimated by three hungry creatures and a fully fledged angel.

“Oh my god,” you groaned and you inhaled the scent of maple syrup and sugary pancake goodness. You made a quick start for the counter, the boys following you with less exuberance in their step but still a sense of urgency to cram as much down their throats as possible.

You all ordered the pancake special, Dean ordered a side of cherry pie to accompany his gluttonous portion.

Before the order arrived Sam had already begin trifling through the local newspaper, Castiel throwing around awkward glances at everyone eating. You knew he missed the rich taste of food...

“Sucks to be you,” you delicately patted castiel on the shoulder without thinking, suddenly in a wave of cascading unpleasantness burst the seams, the barrier was broken again, you couldn't let go as the pain, hurt, anger, confusion, aggression and unwavering hope hurtled through your brain, more intense than the last time. You could hear shouts in the background, almost as if the voices were in another room entirely and the world grew black with tints of blinding blue resonating in flashes every few seconds.

You passed out, stumbling not so gracefully off your chair and onto the diner floor, when you came to you were greeted with three concerned faces, without thinking Dean reached down to help you up.

The worst crash of all beat relentlessly against you, if they kept this up there was no doubt that you were going to break.

Fear, guilt, grief, sadness beyond anything that was humanly possible. Dean was certainly edges and knives inside, a time bomb waiting to explode at any moment. A white hot heat blossomed from your forehead, spreading across your body like a roaring fire until all remnants of those dark feelings dissipated into a hidden void.

You blinked your eyes open, unaware of what on earth just happened, slowly sitting you you took in your surroundings. You were still at the diner, judging by the three men crowding around you, you had been out for a few minutes.

“If any of you touch me again I'm going to chop off your fucking fingers.” You groaned, picking yourself up off the floor.

“I've drained some of your excess power for now, you didn’t put up a fight this time since you were passed out,” Castiel spoke in a hushed tone. “You’ll still feel people's emotions, but just not as intensely as before. For a few days at the very least.” You breathed a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to experience that shit-show any time soon.

Feeling even more drained than before you ordered an additional plate of pancakes as your delicious food was thrust in front of you. Wasting no time you scoffed them down with expert speed, explicit noises leaving your mouth from the purely divine taste, earning bemused smiles from the brothers beside you. It suddenly occurred to you following your earlier thought process, Castiel couldn't eat, what if one of your seals had that awful taint hidden beneath? Could you possibly live without tasting pancakes again? You shuddered at the thought, deciding to slow down and delicately taste the food, appreciating every morsel of flavour that entered your senses.

Morning dwindled on into afternoon, you had collected all sorts of junk food and organic produce to take back to the bunker, it sat wrapped in brown bags in the boot along with a heavy arsenal of weaponry and a devil’s trap in the boot of the Impala.

The engine revved into the bunker garage, Dean turned the key and all of you hopped out, rushing to your door to open it for you. You glared at him for showing any display of kindness, you felt weak at that moment. Having shared all their emotional roller coasters even for a brief moment you wanted to lie down in your darkened room and erase the cognitive mess and destruction floating around your mind.

“Guys I’m totally beat, I’m going to hit the hay for a while and snooze it off,” Castiel looked at you as though you were talking in an old ancient language he had never heard before. “I’m going to bed,” you clarified.

“Okay, well I’m assuming you all have enough food provisions to sustain you for long enough, in the meantime I’m going to do a little more research on what’s causing the influx of power, get as much rest as you can.” You nodded your head as he flew away in haste, leaving you alone with Sam and Dean.

“Are all angels that formal?” You groaned. Dean smiled, Sam chuckled lightly.

“Be thankful he’s not as big of a dick as some of them.” Dean offered.

“I’ve only met a handful of my wonderful uncles and aunts, all of which tried to assassinate me.” You beamed at the Winchesters. “Right bed time. If I have any night terrors, stay the hell away from me or wear some heavy duty gloves or something to shake me, I don’t wanna be inside either of those fucked up pretty heads for as long as I can manage.” You trotted off into the bunker and down the halls to your room, growing weary with each and every step until you finally collided with your bed, your head crashed against the pillow as sleep overtook you.

Endless black a hue of red, it felt like you had been lost in this void before but something was different, it didn’t seem as entirely hopeless and bleak as before. Awash with a new sense of longing you ventured towards the crimson light that flickered helplessly, your fingers reached out to touch the glowing ember, your fingers trembled as your reach grew closer. Despite the warmth of colour it felt cold to the touch, like a marble on a winter night, as soon as your fingers glazed over the cool beam of energy you could feel a sense of warmth radiate from the core, seconds passed the darkness surrounding you growing lighter with each tick of time.

Like a stone thrown into water, ripples extending out wards, tendrils of desire crept in, fierce and dark and oh so sinful, it spread through you like liquid fire. You awoke panting and laden in sweat, you bolted upright to be met with darkness. You hastily reach for the lamp on your nightstand, terrified you were still trapped in the hell driven nightmare.

You were startled as a dark figure sat with one leg crossed over the other, a glass of whiskey in his hand, a bored expression fixed to his face as he inspected the glass.

“Fucking hell Crowley, you could have knocked, rang or anything, why are you in my bedroom watching me sleep?!” You spat in a low tone.

“Don’t flatter yourself I’ve been here a grand total of twelve seconds, it seems you called…” Something akin to a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“No I didn’t…” You trailed off, suddenly realisation hit, your face flushed with embarrassment. You had called out Crowley’s name in your sleep. You read his demeanour deciding to play coy despite your obvious flushed cheeks and sheepish smile.

“Now who’s flattering himself?” His eyebrow arched at your response, sipping whiskey from the glass whilst eyeing you the whole time. Tension nestled over the room as you shared a glace.

“I’m cashing in on that favour,” he finally spoke.

“Should I be worried?” You laughed nervously.

“Depends…” His voice layered in silk and amusement. “I’ve located the alpha witch, I’ll send it to you in the morning so the boys won’t get too suspicious. When you and the three stooges get the bitch, I need something from her kitchen cupboards, an ingredient.”

“Right, frogs legs or silver nightshade?” You quipped.

“More like the horn of a Capricorn. This is a no questions asked type favour so I’d appreciate your discretion and just get the damn thing.” He went from flirtatious to business in a heartbeat. Silence fell between you both, so many questions swimming around in your head, when someone tells you not to ask questions that only makes it harder to not actually ask a question...

“Fine,” you finally managed. “It’s a deal,” you gave him a halfhearted smile as you rose from the sheets you had tangled yourself in. The remnants of emotion still swimming around in your head from your dream.

“Well, kitten. You know how I usually go about my business.” He put the glass down on the table beside him before standing up and slowly motioning over to you, a predatory air about him became apparent as he stood incredibly close to you.

You could feel the want pouring off him. As you stared into his hazel eyes sense crashed against the shoreline of your brain. If he touched you there was no telling what sweet hell would become of your mind, let alone if he kissed you. Movement in your peripheral vision made you flinch and inch backward.

“Best not to shake my hand…” You tried to dodge around the bullet, the fact that he was obviously going to kiss you an unspoken fact, “I can’t control my powers.”

Disappointment rained down on him, his shoulders gave a noticeable slump. “Okay darling, rain check?” He gave you a weary smile before disappearing. Leaving you alone in your room once again, your heart skipping beats entirely.

Tags: @roxy-davenport @gettinjoyful @laneygthememequeen @mkate-writes-things

[gemma-bxckett-gallagher]

Hazy- Self Para

TW: Eating disorder, TW: Step-Sibling relationship

“There’s no quiet place here on earth for our love, not in the village and not anywhere else, so I picture a grave, deep and narrow, in which we embrace as if clamped together, I bury my face against you, you yours against me, and no one will ever see us.”— Franz Kafka, The Castle

No one moment can be credited with my destruction. The insufferable agony of breaking comes in spurts. It began when I watched him walk away from the family that had moulded me for the first thirteen years of my life. They were riddled with flaws, passing their disfunction down the line and planting seeds of insecurity in the impressionable foundation of my being. My father’s permanent departure from the city of my love was the first crack in my stability, I tried to smooth it over, following all the rules placed before me until the crack ran deeper. At sixteen I joined a new family and was forced to take a bite out of the poison apple. It was bitter at first, overwhelming and impossibly daunting. I now remember it with nostalgic beauty, but I wonder if that isn’t coloured by the sentimental memories of our earliest days together.

I spent months perfecting the art of polite sibling-hood. It was kind, friendly exchanges loaded with the awkwardness of being thrown together so late in life. None of it was planned. In fact, I tried to avoid any thoughts that might lead us down the path that now, in retrospect, seems so inevitable. He was cute then, in the way that cheeky teenage boys are, when they ooze newly harnessed sexuality, making sixteen year old girls believe there’s more to them than just charm and charisma. They’re the boys who seem like they’re so much smarter than possible. Seldom do the lights go out in New York City’s wealthier areas. In fact, in my years spent living in the penthouse, that was the only night that darkness trapped us. We’d been left to our own devices, in the loosest sense of the word. My father and step-mother were off on one of their many holidays, leaving Jamie, Brynn, and I with the oversized apartment to ourselves. It was Thursday night and my twelve year old stepsister had been asleep for hours when the power cut out. I was laying in the bathtub, two candles burning across the room and the lights of the other boroughs visible through the window. Rinsing off with what hot water was left, I tried to come up with a plan, but instead stood in the bathroom as the water droplets dripped down my excessively thin teenage body. Wrapped in a towel and cradling one of the candles between my hands I ventured into the darkness, creeping down the hallway carefully. Finally making it to my room in one piece, I was able to pull on the pyjamas I’d tossed on the chair that morning before hearing a knock on the door. Startled, I swung it open to find Jamie on the other side, a flashlight in his hand. “Are you alright?” he asked, all floppy curls and clear green eyes. “Yeah…”I nodded as if the question was absurd. I didn’t want him to know that I was relieved to see him in the darkness of the hallway. I was afraid of a lot of things, but oddly enough the dark wasn’t one of them. “Are you?” I asked to fill the silence before I said something stupid. “Totally,” he replied, his words were dripping with false bravado. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t freaked out,” he shrugged and turned to leave my doorway, then slowly stopped to look back at me. “Gemma?” My name fell from his lips so delicately I could barely hear him, each syllable felt too light to be associated with the person I saw myself as, too beautiful for me to have never noticed the sing song quality of the ‘M’s as they met the ‘A’. “I hate the dark,” he finally admitted, the edge of his bottom lip tucked carefully under his top teeth. “I do too,” I lied, the idea of his vulnerability gave me strange ache. Not unlike the one that came when Claire told me about the darkness she’d seen. His lip was free and a relaxed smile spread across his face. “The battery on my computer is charged if you want to watch a movie or something.” I wish I could remember what we put on or how much of it we actually watched. Instead I remember how soft his sheets were and how he smelled like mint and leather and that strangely alluring mix of skin and teenage boy. I can still hear his soft breathing in my mind, set to the soundtrack of my racing heard as he moved closer to me. The only word I remember hearing before he kissed me is “finally,” but I can’t be sure who said it, although it was a sentiment we both shared whole heartedly. There was fumbling, trying to pull off articles of clothing without pulling away from each other. Limbs knocked awkwardly together and uncoordinated pawing at the parts we’d always kept hidden. It was uncomfortable and over too quickly. It didn’t feel like I’d imagined and I was more okay with that than I would have thought. I didn’t mind the stillness in the room around us, or that within minutes his face was scrunched up and a groan fell from him. We fell asleep in the strange darkness of the city, the sound of the rain lulling us into peace. That was the first of many nights spent side by side while the rest of the house slept. Neither of us mentioned the risk that came with being together. There was an unspoken understanding that the reality was too much to bear. I had no intention of falling in love with him. I thought it was just something to do, then one day on a crowded city subway it came crashing down on me, not at all as peacefully as the outside world made it out to be. It felt like I was suffocating and I clamoured for fresh air, pushing my fellow passengers out of the way and escaping onto a station platform that was miles from our destination. Somehow Jamie was able to follow me, running behind as I darted up the stairs and into the crisp night air. He stood patiently as I sobbed on a park bench. Gulping for air while snot and tears dripped down my chin. I remember my throat aching and shoulders shaking violently, and not noticing when he sat down beside me. Poor sixteen year old boy with no idea what he could have possibly done. Eventually his arm wrapped around my shoulders and he pulled me into the safety of his body, his heat helping to combat that cold that was seeping into my core, the way only the moist Atlantic air can. I will never know if his silence was a result of fear, or if he know I couldn’t handle the sound of his voice. Sirens squealed in the distance and the occasional passerby glanced in our direction, but our world felt still again. We decided to go home when a man talking to his backpack sat beside us, and as Jamie tried to flag down a gave him my other first. The sounds leaving my soul and feeling foreign to my ears as I said “I think I’m in love with you.” Some days the secret of our relationship felt like a boulder balancing on the tip of my tongue. Like an itch that made my eyes water the more I tried to resist. But most of the time I was too lost in him to notice that what we were doing was considered deviant. He’d never felt like a brother, and we’d only known each other for a few short years. It made no sense to either of us but we didn’t dare risk telling our family, not on the off chance that they didn’t see things the way we did. The frustration of it all was a constant strain on our relationship and time and time again we swore it was over, only to find ourselves tangled together again, weeks, sometimes only days, later. I thought I knew heartbreak by my second year of university. I’d watched my family fall apart, moved to a new city, battled my own demons and in the end fallen in love twice. But nothing ever prepares you for the moment that everything you held close comes crashing down on top of you. “I missed you!” I remember him mumbling against my lips as he undid the button on my pants. I was ‘home’ for spring break and we were back to scurrying around the apartment when we thought no one was looking. “Why do you think I left campus early,” I looked straight into his eyes and tried to capture the details of his face in my memory. “Come live with me?” I blurted out as I pulled him onto his bed with me. “Move to Philly, we can get an apartment and finally be together,” he stared at me dumbfounded and I thought for a brief second it was over, until a grin swept across his face. “Okay,” he laughed. “Okay, I’ll move in with you. As soon as the semester is over I’ll transfer.” I wondered if he was kidding, but the way his lips found mine and his fingertips touched my skin told me just how serious he was. We were together for the first time in weeks, both desperate for each other and recklessly diving into the pool of lust together. His body was underneath mine and I was too busy admiring his hair fanned around his head on the pillow to hear the knock that was followed by the opening of the door. Instead I remember him pulling me down to him and cursing. I can still feel the panic that came the moment I realized what had just happened. After years the worst was in front of us, screaming, then slamming the door. I didn’t understand why she was so upset, but my step-mother’s jaw was clenched so tightly I though she might break her teeth. “This has to be the end,” she hissed after Jamie had tried to explain. “Promise me, never again. Or I’ll tell your father and ensure that neither of you see another cent from us.” I considered telling her to go ahead, that my father had done worse things than fall in love. But without their financial backing we were both screwed. Tuition was expensive and without any real skills we were both dependant on them. He left that night to stay with a friend and I locked myself away, praying he’d call. In only minutes we’d gone from planning our future together, to being torn apart without any real goodbye. I spent the rest of the break waiting to hear from him. I kept telling myself that any minute my phone would ring and he’d be on the line, ready to hatch a plan so we could have it all. But Pratt’s tuition fees were high and he wanted to travel the world when he graduated. I wanted to tell him that I would take time off from school and work to support us. That I would sell my soul if it meant being able to live my life beside him. My calls when straight to voicemail and my text messages were left unanswered. Before I knew it I was back in Philadelphia trying to drown my thoughts in Sylvia Plath and Simon & Garfunkel, hiding away from the world. Without him beside me, without his name on my call display, nothing felt real anymore. I wasn’t sure who I was without him. At twenty years old I’d spent so long keeping him a secret. No longer forced to skirt around the question of my relationship status it felt like I was just a character sketch; the stereotypical girl who was written in a hurry. Rockbottom came just weeks before I wrote the first pages of the books that saved my life. That fall, after a summer spent feeling lost and hopeless, I walked into my favourite professor’s office, and walked out with the phone number for student services. I was 5′6″ and 103lbs, anemic, unsteady, and finally being forced to confront the darkness that had so rapidly consumed my entire life. I lay on the floor of my kitchen that night and came to the realization that I’d wasted the last two decades living for everyone else. I was broken beyond belief, scared, alone, and sick, but for the first time, I was finally free.