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serbarris · 15 days ago

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Imagine Being Loved By Me

Dragon Age: the Veilguard, no spoilers

Pairing: F!Rook Ingellvar x Emmrich Volkarin

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Emmrich gives Rook a gift, then takes care of her *waggles eyebrows suggestively*

Words: <1000

Extension of the 7th scene in I'll Crawl Home to Her

Slowly being added to ao3

“My dear, please sit still or else I shan’t be able to give this gift properly.” Emmrich teased. Of course, he’d give her the present no matter what. But after finally acquiring a fitting token of his affection, his love, he wanted to give it to Rook exactly as he imagined. Calliope had once again stolen one of Emmrich’s shirts to wear, undone, over her undergarments. Calliope enjoyed being surrounded by the scent of Emmrich, which helped calm her, remembering the times Emmrich had helped ground her with his embrace.

Stepping behind her to the other side of his desk, he opened the soft bag that contained her gift. “Close your eyes,” Emmrich asked, peering around to ensure her eyes were tightly shut. Letting out an exhale of satisfaction Emmrich gathered Rook’s hair, holding it tightly in his hands he twisted her hair up and out of the way, a wry smile on his lips as he pulled lightly on the bundle. Calliope let out a gentle hiss, and heat began to pool between her legs. “If you could please hold your hair?”

Satisfied, Emmrich proceeded to undo the clasp of the necklace, threading it around Rook’s neck, his fingers ghosting over her skin as he did so. After it was joined, Emmrich’s fingers lightly traced the chain over her clavicle, and he placed tender kisses on the back of Rook’s neck. Calliope felt the cool weight of the necklace on her sternum, reaching up to touch the pendant, she gasped as she raised it into her view. Finely detailed skeletal hands cast in gold grasped a large garnet, it was hard to tell upside down but it almost looked like the stone was vaguely heart-shaped. “Emmrich, this is far too much! I can’t imagine what it must have cost!” Emmrich paused his careful mapping of Rook’s neck with his lips and moved closer to her ear, his light stubble scratching at Rook’s skin.

“I saw this when we were back home and I couldn’t resist picturing how it would look around your neck, Calliope.” Added to the ministrations on her neck, he knew the reaction she had to Emmrich saying her real name, how a delicious red would start to paint her cheeks and chest, creating the perfect trail for Emmrich’s fingers to follow as he pushed her shirt to the side. Calliope’s squirms brought herself closer to Emmrich, her back hitting his chest as he gently grasped Calliope’s neck with one hand, his other tracing the long line of her tattoo down towards her soft lower stomach. His cool rings icy against her heat.

“Emmrich” she gasped, breath hitching, reaching for the back of his neck, bringing him closer, and kissing him deeply. Soft moans emanated from the both of them, Calliope broke away inhaling, trying to extricate herself from Emmrich’s grasp, but he coaxed her back to her original position. “Calliope, this is about you, my love.”

The hand around her neck loosened, tracing down her chest until it enclosed around her covered breast. The pressure was a welcome relief to Calliope, her nipples already straining against the fabric of her bandeau. Emmrich’s hand slipped under the fabric, allowing him to tweak and pinch her nipples as she mewled, “Emmrich, please.” Her back arched into the hand playing with her breast, Emmrich’s other holding her hip tight.

“Patience Calliope.” Calliope shivered at the loss of heat as Emmrich pulled away, moving in front of her, pausing to take her in as she sat before him wound tight and panting from his teasing.

“Remove your undergarments” Emmrich ordered, his tone heavy with lust. Calliope began to remove his shirt from her body, “The shirt stays.” Emmrich directed.

Loosening the laces of her bandeau and knickers Calliope shimmied to let them drop to the floor unceremoniously. Emmrich’s eyes darkened as he drank in her body. She had yet to put on her own jewellery that day, her mismatched gold still sitting on Emmrich’s bedside as they had a rare day to themselves. The necklace he’d given her lay between her plump breasts, the candlelit room casting shadows across her tattooed sternum. His shirt draped over her naked form as she waited for his next move.

Something primal heated in Emmrich’s chest at the sight of Calliope only wearing his shirt and his gift. Calliope heated under his gaze, her chest almost as red as the jewel laying upon it. “Look at you,” Emmrich began, stepping forward and taking Calliope’s chin in his hand, “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing you flush with desire, my darling. When we were flirting I always wondered what colour your cheeks might bloom during intimacy, and now I know they redden like a rose because of my touch.”

Emmrich’s thumb grazed her bottom lip before he gripped Calliope’s hips, pulling her towards his body as he captured her mouth in a rough kiss. Calliope yelped as they collided, feeling Emmrich’s hard length between her legs. Instinctively she rolled her hips, moaning as she attained some of the friction she desperately sought.

“So needy Calliope.” Emmrich chuckled, Calliope’s breath hitched as Emmrich’s hand cupped her mound, a sound of pleasure leaving Emmrich as he felt the damp curls between her legs, his middle finger tracing up and down her slit, threatening to plunge between her folds.

“I want to see you come undone by my touch,” Emmrich growled, plunging his fingers into Calliope, leaving her gasping as he stroked her exactly where she needed. “Wearing my shirt, my necklace, you have me completely enthralled Calliope. You are mine.”

Calliope whimpered as Emmrich’s words aided her to dance along the edge of release, she was so close, her core tight as she constricted around Emmrich’s fingers. His thumb found her clit, gently pressing down on the nub, knowing this would cause her climax. “That’s it Calliope, cum for me.”

#veilguard #emmrook #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #rook ingellvar #my fic #oc: calliope #drop this and runs away #its my first time ever writing smut lol

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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 months ago

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CW: Smut, sexual harassment, 3rd person, pussy slapping. semi public sex, smut, creampie. It's fucking. Rating: Adult Summary: When a flapper won't take the hint that Alastor isn't interested in her, he has no choice but to shut her up and make a point. Sometimes, punishment can be pleasure.

“You’re not into women?” The woman dressed in sequins and beads accused, drawing eyes as Alastor set his drink down.

“That is not what I said,” Alastor set his drink down, turning to face the woman who had been pestering him for a bit of his affection for the last hour. “I only said I’m not into you.”

“Cuz you can’t make it work,” she accused.

“Fine,” Alastor snatched up the glass of rye, downing what remained in one smoothe drink before slamming the glass down on the bar and standing from the stool. “Follow me.”

“Why the fuck should I?” Though she complained, beads and sequins rustled behind him as she did as he said.

“We’re going to have a conversation, my dear,” Alastor was seething as they walked into the short hall, the deep tones of the large bass cutting through the walls to pound into his chest as he lead her deeper into the dark hallway.

“A conversation?” she asked only to have Alastor round on her, arms slamming against the door frame. His presence drove her back, caging her against the door that lead into the bathroom.

“Yes,” he hissed, not looking at the man that walked down the hall, passing behind him. “Now, you’re going to be a good girl and open this door. You’re goin to step inside. Then I will. And we. Will. Talk.”

“You’re-” Her voice shook as she looked at him, wide eyes and confidence gone. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

“Step in and find out.”

Alastor crowded into her space, not giving her room even as she turned, opening the door to the bathroom and stepped inside. She turned to face him, eyes wide and body language so timid now.

She should be, Alastor thought. She didn’t know it, but she was in the room with someone who could take her life. She could die. He could take her life. The way she had been pestering him, the things she insinuated about him, she would almost deserve it.

Almost.

“I’m going to punish you,” Alastor said, unbuckling his belt with one hand as he advanced on her.

“Wh-what does that mean?” She was trembling now, the sight an absolute delight to Alastor.

Alastor’s belt clinked loudly in the small bathroom, gas light flickering as he advanced on her, one predatory step at a time. She bounced off the counter, ever so slightly as her lower back hit it. Wide eyes reflected Alastor’s manic smile at him as his hands gripped her waist and lifted her.

He set her on the counter, grabbing her trembling knees and pulling them apart so that he could slot himself between them. She relaxed only slightly at the familiar position.

Alastor supposed having a man between her thighs wasn’t unusual for her. That was just fine with him. Fingers ran up her thighs, nails digging into the plush skin as he let his lips ghost over her neck. She didn’t deserve his kiss, but he would let her hope for it.

Her knickers were lacey, easily ripped as he wrapped his fingers around them and pulled. Pathetic. Useless. They fell from her hips easily, yet the gusset clung to her core, held in place by the hot slick that already coated her.

“You’re such a hussy,” Alastor growled out, “Eager for any man’s attention.”

She gasped as he pulled the fabric from her soaked core, ripping it out from under her ass. Gripping her hips, he lifted and pushed her dress higher and higher. The clittering beads and sequins gathered, bunching at her waist.

Reaching forward, she ran her hand over the slight bulge in his pants, only for him to snatch her hand away.

“You will get that when I decide you’re ready,” Alastor warned, “and not a moment before.”

He rean the pads of his fingers over her core, not taking the time to beat around the bush. He knew what she wanted from him. There was no point in teasing with how wet she was. Bound, flattened breasts pushed out as her back arched in response to his hand caressing her.

She moaned, an airy, showy sound born in the desire to turn him on and not the pleasure of his touch. Anger ran through him at the sound. She would pay for it.

Alastor pulled his hand back from her slick cunt and listened to the music, muffled only by the wall between them. Then he slapped the delicate folds.

A sharp squeak jumped from her lips as her whole body jerked from the shock of the impact. A bright flush ran up her chest, darkening her cheeks. Alastor pulled his hand back and slapped her cunt again, running his fingers over the bud of her clit as he pulled his hand back again.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, voice climbing in outrage. Alastor noted, however, that rather than closing her legs around him, rather than trying to move away, she spread them wider.

“I’m punishing you,” Alastor said, striking her core again. The high-pitched moan that pushed past her red painted lips told her well enough that she enjoyed the punishment. He didn’t need to hear it, though. The slick pouring from her exposed opening was more than enough.

Listening to the sound of the music through the walls. It took a moment for him to find it, but once he caught the steady thrum of the bass, feeling it more than hearing it, he matched the pace.

Each blow to her cunt was followed with a stroke up, running his fingers over her sensitive clit. The moans leaving her lips were more and more shameless. There was no show now. Each heaving breath, whine and moan was honestly earned.

Again and again, he slapped her. The blows came harder, stinging his wet hands. The sting would surely be worse on her swollen cunt. The folds were red, flushed and swollen.

Slap. Slap. He kept going, matching the beat of the music as one song moved into another.

“Please,” she begged, tears gathering in her eyes as her body tensed. There was no time for her to relax between blows as he slapped her again and again. “Please, I’m- Fuck.”

“You like this,” he said, missing a beat to run his hands up and down her folds. Slick ran down her, gathering on the counter and running over the edge.

Each moan was loud now, unashamed. It was clear she didn’t remember where she was or the fact that people could hear her. That was just what he wanted. She wanted to talk trash? Tarnish his reputation? Ha! He would make sure she thought twice about doing that again.

She was so loud no, threatening to drown out the sound of his hand hitting wet skin. He watched as her head lulled back, body tight and so close to her end now. What would she do if he leaned forward and sank his teeth in to her neck? Would she moan? Scream?

Instead, he worked his pants open, letting them fall around his thighs. He wrapped his hand around his cock, half hard, and pumped it in time with the slaps to her core. Each pass of his hand over her pushed her body tighter and tighter.

Once he was hard, he delivered a hard slap, stinging and painful to her clit. The moan that fell from her lips was loud, earning comments from outside the room that she didn’t seem to hear.

Rather than run his fingers over her clit, he pinched it harshly as Alastor shoved his cock into her twitching, tense opening. Wet heat wrapped around him as he forced himself deeper and deeper through her twitching walls.

She screamed as he forced her body to make room for him. Fingers dug into her hips, gripping her and pulling her to him. Instantly, he took a punishing pace, thrusting into her with brutal force. Each thrust of his hips into her slammed into her clit with stinging force.

“Fuck!” Her head smacked the mirror as her back arched more. “Fuck, fuck.”

“I am,” Alastor growled, chasing his orgasm as he felt her convulse around his cock. Each brutal wave felt like it would trap him inside her. He wouldn’t let it. Squelching slaps of skin echoed in the small room.

“Alastor,” she moaned through the aftershocks of her orgasm, as he exploded in her with a snarl. Harsh thrusts, uneven with the time of the music, slammed into her, not caring for her comfort as he fucked his seed deep into her core.

He pulled from her shuddering body, letting her legs hang limply from the edge of the counter as he tucked his spent, softening cock back into his pants. Sharp eyes watched her twitching opening as Alastor ran fingers through his hair, straightening what had fallen out of place.

Thick white seed poured from her, smearing onto the counter. He gave her one last look before opening the door and stepping back into the hall.

“Good time?” A gruff man asked, giving Alastor a knowing look.

“Gave her what she wanted,” Alastor answered, not giving him more than a passing glance as he made his way back to the bar.

Inside the room, she struggled to stand on legs that felt like their bones had been replaced with rubber. Walking in a way that surely looked more like a newborn fawn than a fully grown woman, she made her way to the napkins, cleaning her core before stepping out into the hall.

Men looked at her, eyes running up and down her body knowingly as she walked stiffly down the hall. The feeling of her puffy cunt, swollen from the incessant slaps it had taken and his seed running down her thighs, was all she could focus on.

She had gotten what she wanted, that was for sure.

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tbgblr2 · 3 months ago

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Cruising to a new life - Part 8

(Some may say at long last… sorry just been having a real bad time of getting motivated to write with work chaos ruling my life. Hopefully this won’t go so many months without a follow up…)

- - - -

I was roused from my sleep by the sound of my phone going off with a message. My sleep-addled brain immediately went to wonder who was messaging me until I realised that I was at sea, and we wouldn’t get mobile signal here. Jodie’s phone went off a second or two later, and that’s when we realised it was a shipwide message.

Picking up my phone, as Jodie did the same, we both looked at each other. “Adriana’s in labour” we both said to each other simultaneously.

The message was ship wide from Charles and said that Adriana had started having contractions at 5am that morning and wanted to start her video diary of her labour as soon as soon as she could. Over the course of the last 3 hours – checking my watch it was 8am – they have developed and became regular. She would like to invite everyone to the cinema to watch at their own convenience. Charles added at the end – it may be difficult viewing for some so individual discretion is advised. The standard cinema screenings would be put on hold whilst the video diary was being transmitted to the ship.

Jodie had already started tapping away on her phone. “Jess is going there right now, she’s been awake for an hour or two already.” Jodie’s hand rubbed her bump absentmindedly. “I’m sure this one has seen enough babies coming out of people now to get the hint… who knows we might be next.”

I kissed her. “We can only hope babe.” I laughed as I rolled out of bed and wandered over to the shower, the rush of water drowning out any other noise that could be heard.

As we got ourselves presentable and headed down to the cinema we realised just how popular this ‘event’ was going to be. We had to wait for 3 different lifts to arrive as the crowds were filling them as they passed but eventually we managed, with a sigh of relief, to get inside the lift car as the doors shut in front of us with a ding.

As we entered into the cinema we were greeted with a who knows how many hundred inch view of Adriana’s face as she was kneeling in a birthing tub, arms crossed on the edge as she looked into the camera and was narrating away.

“The labour pains are frequent but manageable. I’ve been using gas and air to take away the worst of it. Charles has been a welcome distraction and my dear Miguel has been his ever professional self throughout.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, we presumed this was a signal that a contraction had started, all but guaranteed by the hum escaping her mouth.

We noticed she still had on some sort of top covering in the pool, a sports bra or similar, but with her proclivity for nakedness we had to wonder how long that would stay on. Jodie even turned to me and whispered “do you think she has knickers on?” Which I’ll admit did bring a little chuckle.

We spied Jess and headed over that way as she was sitting in one of the comfy seats, with her hand rubbing her belly absentmindedly she hadn’t even noticed us approaching. Jodie sat down next to her and it was only as she realised there was a space occupied did Jess even acknowledge our arrival.

“Something up?” I asked, noticing she was paying special attention to her midsection.

“I think I might be in labour” Jess talk-whispered loud enough that we could hear but hoping it won’t carry. “But Miguel is obviously otherwise occupied… as you can see” she gestured to the screen where Jess’s lover could be seen wheeling over the bottle of gas and air and handing the mouthpiece to Adriana.

“If you are, you’re going to need to be seen” Jodie admonished, a little shocked that Jess would put the health of herself and her baby in place of the promise that Miguel made to deliver her baby.

“I will, I mean she looks worse off that me, my contractions are only light. We might get to watch this baby be born then I get in right on after” she giggled at least showing her sense of humour wasn’t affected.

I took a moment to change the subject “is your mum coming?” I asked. Jess shook her head.

“She’s not had much sleep what with the baby and me pacing around for hours” again another dirty look from Jodie “so she’s decided to nap when she can. It’s not like me trying to learn something, she’s done it a couple of times now…”

“… and you’ll experience it first hand soon” interrupted Jodie, still not letting the subject lie.

“Yup” grimaced Jess as she pulled her dress tight to her bump and we both saw it change shape, almost becoming oblong as the contraction gripped at Jess and squeezed. It stayed that way for a good minute until it returned to its normal shape and she started breathing normally again. We both looked completely gobsmacked as this event unfolded only a few feet from us.

Jess pulled her phone out from her bag as she tapped a message. We couldn’t see what she wrote but turned to see Miguel in the background on the big screen pick up his phone and tap something, only to hear Jess’s phone buzz a moment later. It was clear they were talking at least.

Jodie huffed in resignation knowing she wasn’t getting Jess to move anywhere so offered her hand for her cruise mate to hold as we all turned towards the big screen.

Adriana was getting out of the pool aided by both Charles and Miguel, her soaked body raising up. Jodie won the bet, she had nothing on from her waist down. As she stepped over the wall of the birthing pool she announced to the camera “I’ll ask Miguel to check my progress then I want to labour outside the pool a little. Movement is very important. You shouldn’t feel constrained to any one place, keep moving, your baby… and hips… will thank you for it.”

Charles brought over a towel and wrapped it around his wife, patting her down and getting rid of as much of the excess water as he could. After both were satisfied, she plodded over to the bed where she lifted her bum up onto it and swung her legs around so she had them splayed open to the camera with everything on display. This brought a few unexpected gasps from the onlooking crowd but from what I knew of Adriana from the few days I had known her, this wasn’t exactly unexpected.

She narrated again as Miguel gloved up a hand and applied some gel to his fingers. “Miguel will enter his fingers into me and he can feel how much my cervix has dilated. It was previously at 5cm but I’m hoping for more” she said as she shuffled back on the bed. She held her breath and breathed a out as Miguel put his hand between his sisters legs, the camera man following around to catch the examination in detail. Miguel’s fingers had all but disappeared when he abounded “you’re at 6. You’re progressing.” That was when Jess gripped Jodie’s hand tight as another contraction assaulted her middle, catching her off guard.

Over the course of the next 3 hours or so the cinema was somewhat abuzz with activity. Some families came and sat for an hour or two, but most seemed to tire of watching the stream eventually, some rejoined it again after leaving for food or some other activities. Some had babies with them at this point and when they got fussy they left the auditorium to save spoiling things for others.

We however, sat enraptured. I had to pop out for food to make sure we kept our growling stomachs satisfied – and it was during one of these trips out that Jess announced she was going back to her room, the confines of the seat too much for her. Having witnessed Adriana going through a particularly tough contraction, and it being echoed in parallel by Jess just next to us, Jodie made sure that I escorted her back to the lifts.

I’ll be honest and say it was the slowest walk of my life. Jess firstly wanted to go outside for fresh air, but had a plodding walk along the deck and stopped 3 times. I asked if each were contractions but she shook her head. “I’m just big” she laughed looking out to sea and resting against a railing.

“It might not be appropriate, but damn it, can you rub my back please?” She asked, almost groaning. I’m guessing that was a contraction. I did as I was asked, knowing fine well comfort was more important than decorum at times like this. It had the desired effect, Jess’s groan turning into something a lot happier sounding as I rubbed her back.

“Now right down the bottom squeeze my hips.” I realised she was echoing something she watched Adriana do when coping with a contraction, though in her case she was on all fours in the tub and Charles was knee deep in the water behind her. Thankfully Jess didn’t try and get down on all fours mid deck.

“Oh that’s the good stuff. You remember this for Jodie, because this right here is golden” Jess surprisingly had all but lost the sound of pain in her voice and seemed to be coping a lot better after my ministrations. She moved off soon after and we returned indoors to the lift, pressing the button. A few moments later Jess gave me a hug as she stepped inside. I wished her good luck in case I didn’t see her again as the door closed in front of me.

I dashed back to the auditorium to meet up with Jodie again and relayed what had happened with Jess. She in turn explained that Adriana had now not spoken for at least 10 minutes, she was more lost in her contractions than anything, even going so bad as to be yowling in pain as she goes through them. She seemed to be having it real tough – perhaps, we thought, much tougher than she expected. Jodie did confide in me that she was worried about going overdue and finding the baby be too big to push out. I told her that it’s really unlikely, and in all of the birth videos we had watched together – and let me tell you it was a lot – we had never seen anyone struggle as much as Adriana seemed to be doing at the moment.

We had lost sight of Jess for over an hour at this point and to be frank we were starting to wonder if she was still in her room with her mum or if she’d moved on to delivery by now. On the screen in front of us, Adriana was not doing so well. Her attempts at being a calm, collected labouring mother were long gone as the tears streamed down her face and she yelled out with abandon. She was presumably deep in transition now, her pains seemingly all but on top of each other but Charles was there to support her, rubbing her back, getting in close and whispering what we presume were affirmations to her ear as she struggled.

Adriana was on her knees in the pool with her arms crossed on the edge, alternating between her forehead and her chin resting on her arms. We were presuming there was no sign of the baby and she wasn’t pushing as the cameraman was stoicly sat in front of her - last time he moved around the pool was to catch Miguel leaning in over the edge of the to check her progress where he announced she was 8cm and nearly there. We don’t know if Adriana actually realised in her state.

Suddenly we see Miguel’s phone ring and he answered it. Whilst we could only see his half of the conversation on camera we guessed the other participant would be Jess by the context of the conversation.

“So soon? Ok please tell me you don’t need to push just yet…. Oh good can you get here? Ok I can’t leave Adi just yet, she’s struggling…. Yes baby I know you are too. Come up here and I’ll let you in. Get here by my room… ok take it slow and ring when you get here I’ll dash through.”

Charles looked up with a quizzical look. “Jess?” he enquired.

“Jess” confirmed Miguel.

That caused Charles to sigh. “I need you to look after your sister she is struggling more than I expected.”

We weren’t expecting to see some sort of family argument playing out on the big screen in front of us but here it was. Miguel took control though “I know what I’m doing. Let me do my job. 2 babies at once is unfortunate but nothing I can’t handle especially when they’re both in the same room and I can keep track of each of them together.”

Charles nodded. “So be it, you’re the expert.” You could tell he wasn’t exactly pleased at the prospect though.

“It’s my decision” confirmed Miguel as he walked off camera.

Charles did what he could to explain the situation to Adriana in a moment of lucidity between contractions and to give his wife her due, she nodded, presumably confirming understanding as she went back to putting her forehead on her arms and letting out a sorrowful moan as the next contraction picked up.

Miguel came back on camera leading Jess by the hand a few moments later. We were somewhat of a close knit community on the ship so there’s a chance that the unexpected arrival was known to many, but Miguel offered no explanation to the camera he just lead her off screen to the other side. Some murmurs were heard in the cinema so perhaps not everyone knew our friend and the relationship she was developing with Miguel.

Charles looked up at the camera and said “Adriana please” - presumably he was being asked who the camera should focus on, the directional mic masking the voice behind the camera.

In the background of the shot - the pool in the foreground and the bed in the back - Miguel had unzipped Jess’s dress and lifted it over her head. She was dressed in a sports bra and light blue maternity panties which came up the underside of her bump, but what was most obvious about them was the dark patch between her legs. We could only presume her waters had broke and she panicked resulting in the phone call.

She didn’t seem in much distress - at least compared to Adriana - as she had her underwear dropped to the floor by Miguel, resting her hands on his shoulders as she stepped out of them. She lifted her bra off herself then flung her arms around Miguel’s shoulders and practically fell into him as she groaned herself.

Miguel, in response could be heard saying “breathe, pant through it. Don’t push! Let me check your progress first” and it was obvious that Jess was much more progressed along her labour journey than what Adriana was at this point in time.

Jess managed to form words around her grunts. “I’m trying baby, it’s too hard, the baby is right there, he’s going to come out…” it ended with a yell. She seemed to squat down a little hanging deeper off his shoulders.

Adriana in turn looked up to the camera then to the side calling for Charles. He dashed around to the front blocking the view of the cameraman, who stepped to the side, taking Jess and Miguel out of shot.

“Charles, Charles… the head. I can feel it, it’s stretching me. I need to push! I need to push!” She was frantic, her hands reaching out to grab Charles’s who in turn held them tight.

“Miguel, she needs to push! Can she push!” Bellowed Charles, concern for his wife etched on his face.

Miguel yelled out “Pant Adi, don’t give in, I��ll be there in a moment… and DONT PUSH!” He emphasised the last part. The cameraman panned over taking Adriana and Charles out of the shot to focus on Miguel and Jess as he was helping her up on the bed and unceremoniously poked 2 fingers between her legs. “Jess, baby. You’re good push when you’re ready. I need to check on Adi a moment.”

Jess’s eyes grew wide and she was about to yell out something about him staying with her as she suddenly curled over and lay on her side on the bed, hooking one leg back - the primal need to push had taken over.

Miguel looked distraught his eyes darting between his sister and lover but he knew Adi needed him more right that second. As the cameraman followed Miguel he bound the few steps it took to get over to the pool to check on Adriana.

He checked her over and confirmed she was at 10cm dilation also and could push when she was ready. Her first attempt was met with a wailing, sorrowful sound but Miguel congratulated her. “That’s it, you’re doing the right thing. Keep that jaw loose. Make as much noise as you need, it really helps things along.”

He looked up to Jess and she was doing somewhat the opposite. Chin to her chest, her face going beet red with effort, she pulled her leg back so far it was squashing tight against her belly, her knee essentially meeting her nipple. Miguel shook his head as he asked Charles to keep Adi focused on pushing and went back to looking after Jess.

“Release, release baby. Breathe, breathe, breathe” he chanted at Jess as his hand met her knee. She gasped and let go of her leg. “Remember the baby needs oxygen. Big gulps of air between pushes. No more than 10 seconds each one.” Jess nodded understanding and gasped a lungful of air as she resumed the position. “Good… good. That’s it. Now breathe!”

Jess gasped and was left panting. “Is that the contraction over?” Asked Miguel. Jess nodded. “Good, take a moment to relax.”

“Is she ok?” Asked Jess, looking over to Adriana.

“She’s good. Struggling a bit, but she’ll get there. Let me worry about her and you worry about yourself and this little one” he said gently resting a hand on Jess’s belly. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but baby’s come at the time they want and often ruin peoples plans. Just know I’m here for you but I also need to look after my sister.”

Jess nodded understanding as the need to push came back on her. “Good” said Miguel enthusiastically “you’ve got the hang of it, remember to breathe!” As he left her to return to Adriana.

Adriana in turn had flopped back into more of a sitting position in the pool. She had braced her feet against indents in the sides and held on to bars designed to give leverage. Charles had moved back into position behind his wife as the camera was front and centre catching her spread legged position in the main shot. However we could still see Jess in the background taking part in her own battle as Miguel dashed from lady to lady to try and give each as much support as he could.

Jess was the first to crown. The camera of course wasn’t focused on it but we could still see the action happening. Jess’s pushing was much more inward and grunting, Adriana yelling and screeching with each contraction. We saw her lips part and the head come out in about a 2 minute window, Jess giving her own yelp of pain as the head was born. Miguel kept up her spirits with affirmations and coaching then suddenly with a grunt and gush of fluid we watched as Jess’s baby was pushed out and placed on her chest. The sound of a crying baby in the room rang louder than even Adriana’s wails and she stopped, desperately trying to turn around to see what was going on behind her, but her body not letting her.

Adriana’s moment of respite was short lived as she went back into pushing. At this point her lips were bulging outward to show the shape of the head that was so near, yet seemingly so far from being born. She grunted and yelled, and ironically it was the cameraman who yelled out from behind the camera “I can see baby’s hair.”

This seemed to buoy Adriana, who actually smiled, but that smile turned into a grimace as the next contraction forced her to push again. Her lips parted and sure enough the auditorium could clearly see the dark patch between her legs. Charles rubbed her shoulders telling her she was doing great and to keep it up, but what he didn’t see from the room was the collective ‘aww’ we all gave as we saw the head sink back out of view as the contraction let up.

Now admittedly we all knew that this was the process and how it would take several pushes for the head to crown… but for Adriana who was struggling so much it felt like a cruel irony.

#birth kink #fpreg #birth #labor kink #pregnancy

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scuttlingcrab · 8 months ago

Note

Raphael reacting to being given a surprise little peck on the cheek. Just a brief and sweet little thing and the kisser is already gone before he can really do anything.

I made it so Tav kissed Raphael on the lips instead, brief and sweet as you suggested; but still shocking to the Devil, hehe. Tav always seems to get Raphael's knickers in a twist.

Summary: Raphael is fuming after Tav shows absolutely zero decorum, kissing him in the middle of an important meeting between prospective clients. How will the Devil manage?

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Only a Kiss

(Image via certifieddilfenjoyer)

The Devil gingerly sipped his wine, no longer cringing at its watered down consistency. Each taste allowed him to make a careful observation of the reception, a mere glance was all he needed to sense whether the evening was going in his favour. And it most certainly was, despite it feeling like he was stuck in an infinite loop of monotony.

Raphael stood in the dining hall of a soon-to-be forgotten Duchess. A group of Faerûn’s most politically influential women surrounded him, cramming into the room like fish in a barrel. These parties were all nonsense to Raphael, another trite characteristic of his role as the resident Devil.

The establishment was stuffy, not due to the growing crowd, but from the obvious lack of taste. Paintings decorated every inch of the walls, statues filled every corner, and none of the art seemed to co-exist. Each piece was random, gaudy, and only attempted to achieve one thing to any unlucky guest who was smart enough to see through the facade.

Wealth! Status! Luxury! A tawdry display and an overt cry for help.

Raphael pursed his lips. Was he the only one there who had even a sliver of self-respect? Who understood the complexities of art?

But of course he was.

The evening was growing late and these mortals were on the verge of tipping over, their goblets overflowing with the very wine that coursed through their veins. Raphael was stuck entertaining them until they signed his contract.

It didn't matter. He would consume their souls and move on; just a little longer and this next batch of cattle would be herded into their pens for slaughter.

Raphael opened his mouth as he prepared to continue the dragging exchange, but he was taken by a sudden gush of air. Within seconds, his mouth was locked with a stranger's in a delicate kiss.

He blinked, a pair of striking blue eyes within inches of his own. Soft hands cradled his face. Cloves and roses. That smell. Those eyes. The sheer display of indecency. Tav.

The fleeting act stunned the Devil. Before he could speak, move, or incincinerate; Tav winked, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

“Lord Raphael! I didn’t realise…” One guest began.

The herd of women grew excited, sharing hushed whispers with each other. A few of them began giggling.

“Far from it, I’m afraid.” Raphael cleared his throat, adjusting his collar.

“Well, that kiss told me everything I needed to know.” Another woman continued. She raised her brows high, a suggestive glint growing brighter in her eyes. “Your reputation precedes you, my Lord. Perhaps we can look at adding something similar to our agreement?”

He was going to destroy Tav, remove them from existence once and for all.

A thousand deadly thoughts ran through his mind at once, causing him to go into overdrive. The things he could do to them. Would do to them. He would make them beg for forgiveness, in every way imaginable, before he would even consider giving them the freedom of death.

“Of course I'm always open to discussing terms with prospective clients… but I am unfortunately unavailable.” Raphael responded.

The women groaned in disappointment, a few of them, the richest ones, dismissed Raphael almost instantly. As they began to break away from the group, he could feel the threads of his perfect plan unravelling. Chaos closed in, circling him, suffocating him.

“No need to fret, my dears. I have something for you that I don’t offer to just anyone, guaranteed to exceed all expectations. You will find them a far more pleasant experience, I’m sure.”

This not only stopped the women from disbanding, but actually seemed to excite them.

“Oh my Lord, forever a tease. Do tell us more!” One of them shouted.

Raphael’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the empty chalice. He could feel his internal temperature bubbling as it rose. The chalice began to bend from the heat, slowly drooping like a dying flower.

He bit the side of his tongue, bowing respectfully.

“I operate under the shadow of discretion. If you will allow me, you’ll soon be able to have a little taste, and discover first hand what awaits you upon signature.”

As the women huddled closer to Raphael, devouring every word from his lips, he searched the room for the culprit. That vile, unhonorable creature. He spotted them at the far end of the room, chatting with an unfamiliar face.

He continued to glare at Tav, hoping his scathing gaze would pierce through their chest. The longer he stared at them, the more he hoped they’d feel his eyes on them; daring them to glance in his direction.

When there was no response, Raphael set the tip of Tav’s outfit on fire with a flick of his wrist. He watched in pleasure as the flames slowly grew, nearly reaching their knees before they reacted to the warmth.

Tav jumped back, quickly killing the flames with a spell. Their cheeks grew redder as they tried to laugh off the embarrassment. Tav rubbed the back of their neck, looking around the room until their eyes caught Raphael’s.

The Devil tilted his head in acknowledgment, a smile filled with scorn and amusement overtaking his lips.

Try something like that again, little mouse, his expression hoped to convey; and he’ll be sure to leave them with permanent scars next time.

Raphael soon discarded Tav from his mind, he wouldn’t waste anymore time thinking about that creature. He gathered the rest of his energy for the upcoming engagement at hand, the final one of the evening.

“Madams,” he began, turning back to the women. “This soirée has grown rather dull. Perhaps it’s time we move things somewhere more secluded as we close our deal? I think my House of Hope would suffice, no? Besides, there is someone who is dying to make your acquaintance.”

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 years ago

Note

sub!larissa being jealous of reader getting attention from other teachers ;)

Heyyyyyyy anon! Thanks for the request, I took this and added some Marilyn Thornhill… 😏🏳️‍🌈🤭 Also, Marilyn’s just Marylin, no secret identity or agenda or anything like that.

Jealous, Are We? ~Sub!Larissa Weems xMarilyn Thornhill xFem Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, fingering, eating out, thigh riding, orgasm denial, praise kink, degrading kink, mistress kink, mommy kink, implied threesome, Voyeurism kink, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

You had never had the chance to talk to the new Nevermore teacher, Marilyn Thornhill, until recently at the Poe cup. She had introduced herself to you in her kind and small manner. You two chatted a bit while the contestants where in the race. You walked up to the school together, finishing your conversation before splitting ways.

From the side of your eye, you caught Larissa with a stern scowl staring in your direction. You chuckled to yourself. Larissa was so easy to rile up… You hadn’t even tried to, and you were making Larissa jealous. You sent her an innocent, loving smirk back.

Over the next week, Marilyn had been at your heel trying to get your attention. And you fed into it whenever you could sense Larissa’s presence. You could feel Larissa growing more and more jealous and sexually frustrated. Plus it didn’t help that you purposefully flirted with Coach Vlad in front of her a couple of times…

So when Friday rolled around, you weren’t surprised when you got called into her office.

“Hello, my dear…” you hummed, walking in and closing her office door behind you,

“Marylin, has invited us out for drinks and I was thinking to go! Would you care to join us?” You mock-innocently asked, batting your eyelashes at your partner.

“You will be doing no such thing.”

She was practically seething.

Fuck, did it turn you on…

“And why is that?” You quirked your eyebrow at Larissa, still playing dumb.

Larissa looked up and met your eyes for the first time since you had entered, And you saw nothing but a cloud of jealous, rage-filled lust…

Oh, this was going to be fun…

“Because I should have you bent over my lap and screaming my name for whoring yourself out to all the staff.” She jeered.

She was pulling out all the stops tonight…

But you weren’t one to back down.

“Oh my… Is someone jealous…?” You teased.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. You’re the one who’s been acting like a slut all week.” Larissa spat, now standing and towering above you.

You chuckled at her stunt, making Larissa’s confidence falter.

“Don’t try me, Larissa…” you warned.

“Or what…?” She cocked her eyebrow, leaning down, mere inches from your face.

“I’ll remind you just exactly who you belong to…” you wickedly purred, while grazing over her covered nipple, making Larissa shudder.

Larissa growled and captured your lips. She tried to dominate, but your tongue out matched hers. You used the distraction as a way to pin her to the wall. You then parted from the kiss. Your eyes met Larissa still very apparent jealous and needy ones.

“Strip.” You commanded.

Larissa’s breath hitched.

It always made her knees weak when you commanded her around…

She whimpered in response and did as she was told.

“Words, bitch.” You snarled.

You heard Larissa audibly gulp at your ferocity…

She quickly understood that you had played her into this…

“Yes mistress…”

You hummed in delight. Leaning back on the fireplace chair, you watched Larissa strip, as you undid the buttons of your trousers. Larissa stood in front of you awaiting your next words, as you threw your trousers aside and spread your legs across the chair.

“Make it up to your mistress for being such a brat and make her feel good, hmmm…?” You purred.

Larissa bit her lip and nodded eagerly, kneeling at your legs and removing your knickers.

“So you can be a good girl…” you hummed, as Larissa licked a stripe through your folds.

She quickly attached to your heat, lapping up your wetness and driving you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, such a sweet slut…” you moaned out as Larissa continued her assault on your cunt.

You poured out strings of twisted praise for the tall, blonde, and before soon, you were on the edge.

“Oh God, make your mistress cum like a good girl…!!” You cried out, your hand scrunched in her platinum hair and pushed her deeper into your aching pussy.

Larissa moaned at the tight hold you had on her, which was sent straight to your core. Your legs tightened around Larissa and your head rolled back as you came. Larissa cleaned you up with her tongue, before looking up at you like a desperate puppy.

“Not jealous, my ass…” you panted, smirking at the woman in front of you, face covered in your cum.

At that, Larissa gave you a little pout.

You chuckled, “Come up on my lap, baby…”

Larissa followed and you led her to straddle your thigh.

“You wanted my attention? Ride your mistresses thigh for me…” you purred, sprinkling kisses and markings over her curved figure.

Larissa’s heated sex met your thigh and she audibly gasped.

“Fuck, yes mistress…” she groaned.

She began to rock against your thigh, little groans and whimpers escaping her lips. You took the opportunity to undo her hair and whisper your dirty words into her ear…

“Next time you want your mistress’ attention, just ask… I’ll rail you right into tomorrow with that pretty begging of yours…”

“I love seeing you all worked up over me…. Me having to remind who owns you…”

“Does my sweet slut wanna cum? Well too bad… Shouldn’t have been a brat…”

At your last utterance, Larissa had been rutting into your thigh at the tip of her climax, when you had pulled her off.

“What the fuck..??” Larissa exclaimed, panting heavily.

She wasn’t used to people telling her no…

You darkly chuckled, “Don’t make me spank you. Brats get punished not rewarded.”

At that Larissa fell timid and subservient again, “Mm Sorry Mistress…”

You hooked her chin and moved her gaze up to meet yours.

“Now tell me the truth, When you see me with other teachers, do you get jealous?” You purred.

“Yes mistress.” Larissa whispered.

“And what does it make you want me to do to you, hmmmm? What naughty thoughts come to your slutty mind…?” You continued, snaking a finger down and grazing it on Larissa’s thigh.

“I…I want you to…” Larissa faltered as your finger slipped inside her cunt, “want you to show them that you own me and me only…” she moaned, as you began pumping and curling your finger inside her throbbing cunt.

Her hands were quick to land on your shoulders as a way to stabilize herself.

“Oh yea? Tell me more… Who do you want to show?” You purred, your own breath hitching at the idea of Larissa being an unfound voyeur.

“I… Fuck…!!” Larissa’s coherence was starting to slip, as you slipped a second finger into her aching heat, “That bitch…!”

“What bitch?” You teased, “Oh, do you mean Marilyn?”

You curled your fingers in perfect sync with your words, hitting her g spot and causing Larissa to cry out in pleasure, “YES God yes don’t stop please don’t stop…!!”

You chuckled yet again, “Does the idea of Marilyn watching what your mistress does to you turn you on…?” You taunted.

Larissa bit her lip and cried out again, as a third and final finger was added to her cunt, “Yes!! Yes!!” she cried while nodding her head vigorously, “Mmm gonna cum please please…!!”

“Hmmm, have you been a good girl?” you asked, bringing Larissa right to the edge again.

“Yes god yes please!!” She cried.

She was teetering on the edge, bucking her hips to meet your curls, when you pulled out. Larissa looked at you with desperation and shock.

“You haven’t been a good girl… but then again, neither has your mistress…” you purred into her ear, sending chills down her spine.

“We’ll start again tomorrow… And if your good… then I’ll let you cum.” You purred, taking her off your lap.

Larissa sat on the floor, naked and in shock.

“Well maybe I’ll just go to Marilyn then.”

You turned around on your heel in utter astonishment.

“Oh really?”

“Yea, maybe I’ll make you jealous…” Larissa continued, standing up and wiggling her eyebrows.

You raised your eyebrow at her and backed her up against the wall, easily sliding a finger back into her cunt and pumping in and out of her again.

“What was that, slut?” You taunted, curling your finger expertly, making Larissa’s legs tremble to stay up.

“I… nothing sorry mistress…” she stuttered.

“No no, I believe you said you’d go to Marilyn?” You taunted, adding your second finger yet again.

Tears were threading to spill over Larissa eyes at the sensitivity of her cunt and how you kept hitting that sweet sponges spit inside her.

“No no mistress please I’ll be good…!”

You pulled out your phone and clicked a few buttons.

“No no, let’s see what Marilyn has to say about this. I’m sure she’d love to weigh in…”

Larissa’s eyes widened as she heard your phone ringing.

“Color, Ris’?” You asked, making sure to double check that everything was still ok.

“Good God Green, please don’t stop…!” She cried out, your fingers still pumping and curling inside her.

And that’s when the call linked.

“Y/N? Do you still want to go out for drinks?” Marilyn spoke through the phone.

The idea of drinks coming back boiled Larissa’s blood, she wanted to scream…But she couldn’t risk it, and instead clasped her mouth shut with her hand as you began scissoring your fingers inside her.

“Hey Mar’, No sorry I don’t think drinks will work out…” you said with fake disappointment, “But actually Larissa had a better idea! Larissa?”

You looked at her with a wicked twinkle in your eye.

“Yea, whats up, Larissa?” Marilyn innocently asked through the call.

Larissa had to pry her hand away from her mouth, afraid she’d start screaming at the amount of times you’d edged her on in these last five minutes.

“I…” she panted, trying desperately to compose herself, “How about you join us for… OhHh God… in my office?”

You had latched your lips onto her clit as she spoke, causing Larissa’s hand to grab ahold of your head and push it deeper into her cunt.

“Sure!” Marilyn said, “Be right there!” Before hanging up.

At that, you added a third finger and sped up your pumping into Larissa’s cunt.

Larissa was godly close and she wasn’t shy about saying it…

“Fuck mistress please!! Mmm gonna cum please let me cum…!!” She cried out.

“Cum sweet girl, cum for your mistress…”

Right on time, Larissa was screaming your name and muffling it with her hand as Marilyn walked into the office. You pumped your fingers a few more times to help her down from her high.

“Oh my…” Marilyn gasped, her pupils blowing up at the sight in front of her.

“Oh Marilyn, Just in time! Larissa thought you’d be able to help me, isn’t that right sweet girl?” You purred, your voice laced with lust.

“Yes Mistress…” Larissa whimpered.

Marilyns eyes twinkled with intent, her eyes coming over to yours to check with you before going back over to Larissa’s.

“Call me mommy.” Marilyn purred, racking her eyes over Larissa’s figure.

“Yes mistress and mommy…” Larissa shuddered.

“Oh darling girl… your mistress and mommy are gonna make you feel so good tonight…” Marilyn purred, walking up to the both of you.

“So good you won’t be able to walk or even remember your own name…”

“Would you like that my sweet slut?” You taunted, matching Marilyns stride and front to Larissa.

“Yes please, mistress and mommy…” Larissa moaned in delight and anticipation.

Part 2…? 😏

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pasukiyo · 1 year ago

Text

YOU'RE ALWAYS GONNA BE MINE

| PROLOGUE

a royalty au. remus lupin x princess!reader. multi-part series. series masterlist.

word count; 2,635 words summary; the princess is to be betrothed soon. but she's still so, so young, she has yet to even see the world! how can she marry a man she doesn't love, much less a man she has never even met? meanwhile, the full moon is in two weeks and remus is in the most pain he's ever felt. how much longer does he have to suffer, how much longer until the pain fades away?

so even in a different life, you still would've been mine, we would've been timeless...

‘Dear Lily,

Things have been less than exemplary here, I’m afraid. Peter has been practically breathing down my neck as of late… (I’ve just been told off for even writing that) …and I overheard mother and father talking yesterday. They’re going to force me into marriage.

I know I should be happy. This is my sole purpose as princess anyway, I should feel honored to have found a suitable prince to marry. Yet… I cannot help but to feel anything but. It feels like I am wasting my life away… why can I not find a man for myself? Why must I marry without falling in love?

I apologise for how short this letter has been. But it is becoming rather difficult to keep Peter from reading over my shoulder and quite frankly, I do not wish to succumb to another one of mother and father’s rants. Peter is such a sneak.

With all my love,

The Princess’

The princess sighed as she signed off her letter, narrowing her eyes up at Peter where he stood, an incredulous look upon his face as she rolled the parchment, tying it with a red, silky ribbon. “You don’t have to give me that look, Peter,” she said, fixing up the bow she had tied. “The letter is between me and Princess Lily, you don’t need to be such a snoop.”

Peter hissed, watching the princess as she rose from the desk, dusting off the skirt of her gown. “You understand that it is my job to keep you in line?” He scoffed, following close behind her heels as she walked up the steps of the Owlery, catching sight of her beloved owl, Athena. “Your mother will be very displeased if she were to know the contents of that letter.”

Her eyes rolled in their sockets as she soothed her fingers on Athena’s mottled brown and white head, a satisfied hoot slipping from her beak. “Which is why I trust that mother won’t hear of this,” she said, her lips curved in a cheeky grin as she tied the parchment to Athena’s claw. “Deliver this to Lily, would you, Thena?” She cooed at the owl, the creature giving her knuckle a tender nip before she outstretched her wings, pushing her body off of her perch, soaring out the window and into the night. The princess sighed as she watched the owl take flight, an envious burn in her heart.

“You’re lucky I am feeling extra generous today,” Peter replied and she huffed, turning back around to face him. “‘Extra generous?’” She chuckled as she pushed past him, holding onto her skirt as she made her way back down the steps of the Owlery. “Since when were you capable of being generous?”

With a smile, she turned her head around to peer over at Peter just in time to watch his eyes roll in their sockets. “You jest, my princess. Perhaps I’d laugh if it weren’t damn near midnight. You should be in bed, may I remind you.” She sighed as she pushed her way out of the Owlery, Peter following close behind like a shadow. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Peter, I’m going,” she giggled as they made their way through the garden and back into the castle, stepping inside one of its many hallways.

“My knickers are not in a tw–”

“Goodnight Peter! I cannot wait until the morning where you will chastise me again,” she smiled and waved at the Royal Advisor behind her, lifting her gown as she made her way up the staircase. She could hear Peter scoff behind her, her lips still curled into a soft smile as she made her way through the corridor towards her quarters, yawning and rolling her neck as she smiled at the guard outside her room. With an indifferent expression, he pushed open the door for her, stepping aside to allow her to enter the bedroom.

The room was warm with the marmalade glow coming from the candle she had left lit earlier and she hummed at the sight of her handmaiden, Marlene, in the corner of the room, silent as she focused on the parchment in her lap. At the sound, Marlene snapped her head towards where the princess stood, pushing the parchment off to the side as she scrambled to her feet. “My princess! Let me grab your nightgown for you…” Marlene hurriedly stammered out, rushing to the closet to grab one of the princess’ many nightgowns, pulling a long, white lace one from the sea of many fabrics.

The princess’ lips twitched in an amused smile as Marlene practically sprinted back towards her, presenting the gown for her to take. “Marlene, what have I told you?” The princess chuckled, graciously taking the nightgown from her handmaiden’s hands. “You can relax when you are with me. You make me seem like one of those stuck-up, snobby princesses that care very little for others’ wellbeing. It is almost insulting.”

Marlene’s rosy cheeks flushed and she bowed her head, locking her shaking fingers before her. “M-my apologies, your highness,” she hardly managed to stutter out, earning yet another roll of the eyes from the princess. “Marlene,” the princess called her name again, reaching out with her hand towards the handmaiden’s chin, tilting it up until their eyes met once again. “Relax.”

Marlene’s chest heaved when she inhaled a deep breath, her muscles visibly relaxing at the sound of the princess’ soft, gentle voice. She exhaled as the princess’ lips grew in yet another warm grin, making her way around the dressing screen and making quick work of her dress. “Do you need help with your corset?” Marlene’s voice called over the screen just as she unlaced her own corset, her muscles aching in gratitude, her waist finally free of its confinement. “I’ve got it,” she sighed, tossing the corset until it hung over the top of the screen as she began to shimmy herself out of her dress.

“Princess,” Marlene’s voice called again and she hummed in reply as she tossed the dress over the screen as well, rolling up her nightgown until the head was visible. “The King and Queen requested you for brunch tomorrow. Apparently, Lord Sirius will be spending the day in the castle.”

Her lips twitched at the mention of Lord Sirius and she stepped out from behind the dressing screen as she soothed the nightgown down her body. “Thank you, Marlene,” she nodded her head. “May I request that I wear that midnight blue dress, you know, the one I wore the last time Lord Regulus came around?” Marlene’s face lit up in an almost knowing grin, although she tried to suppress it. “Trying to impress Lord Sirius?’ The handmaiden couldn’t help but giggle and the princess chuckled as well, shaking her head as she made her way towards her bed. “No, of course not,” she replied. “Lord Sirius is only a dear friend. And I like that dress. It is very comfortable– you did well on it.”

Marlene flushed and bowed her head, “thank you, princess,” she murmured shyly. The princess smiled as she tucked herself beneath the covers, gazing up at the dusty pink ceiling of her bedroom. “Is there anything else you’d like before you sleep?” Marlene inquired and the princess shook her head in response. “No thank you, Marlene,” she murmured softly. “Have a good night.”

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

The princess blinked up at the ceiling as the marmalade glow faded when Marlene blew the candles out, the room slowly shrouding itself in darkness until she was gazing into a void of black. She listened to Marlene’s footsteps as she sauntered out of the bedroom and out of her quarters, leaving her alone in the room much too big for one woman.

Everything was still, the sky outside her window was black and frankly, she should have been asleep. Alas, her mind was reeling, a dark, swirling tempest of much-unappreciated thoughts. What was she to do about her impending marriage?

Call her a sap, call her a hopeless romantic— she wanted love. She didn’t want a prince of some far away kingdom, she didn’t want to be his shadow— she wanted to properly fall in love with someone, to marry someone on her own accord. She was still so young and still had so many years ahead of her, how could she be forced into wedlock!

The thought put a sour look on her face and she turned to her side, wedging an arm beneath her pillow to support her head. She gazed out her window at the night’s black sky, eyeing the twinkling stars illuminating it. This couldn’t happen, it just couldn’t— she’d find a way to be sure of it.

Remus howled in pain as he stumbled through the back door of Lord Sirius Black’s manor, his muscles aching and the contents of his stomach bubbling at the pit, threatening to spill from his chapped lips. He could hear footsteps somewhere on the other side of the mansion and he hoped to whomever it was watching down on them that it was his dear friend.

“Remus?”

Remus growled as sweat beaded down the side of his face, crashing into the bookcase against the wall as he tried to regain his balance, chest heaving as a thread of saliva fell down in a string from his lips. He groaned as he blinked up at the figure approaching him, hardly able to make out the face in the darkness of the manor.

“Sirius,” Remus managed out, yelping at another particularly rough jab of pain in his abdomen, practically slamming his forehead down on the nearest shelf of the bookcase.

“Merlin, let’s get you upstairs,” Sirius muttered, grabbing a hold of one of Remus’ arms, tossing it over his shoulders as he used his other arm to hoist his friend off of the wall. Remus hissed through his teeth at the pain and squeezed his eyelids shut, throwing his head back as he tried to move his feet to aide Sirius.

Sirius grunted as they approached the stairs, practically dragging his friend up the steps, much to Remus’ displeasure. His belly lurched at a particular rough landing on one of the steps and he pursed his lips together, hoping the acid bubbling in his throat could be willed to stay down. Sirius grabbed a hold of Remus again and hoisted him forth, finally arriving on the second floor of the manor.

He rushed Remus into one of the empty spare bedrooms, practically tossing his dear friend on the mattress as he rushed for the waste bin he kept in here for this sole purpose, handing it to the man. Remus wasted no time in spilling the contents of his stomach, a sour, rotten odor Sirius had grown far too accustomed to to care about imbuing the bedroom.

Sirius found a washcloth and poured some cold water over it, sighing as he plopped down in the chair beside the bed, handing the cloth over to Remus once he was done vomiting. He fell back against the pillows on the bed, chapped lips agape as he tried to catch his breath, slapping the cold rag down on his entire face. He squeezed his eyelids together hard enough to see stars, feeling his heart drum against his chest.

“Sorry,” he managed out, his voice low and husky. Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed from his bedside, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I think we’re well beyond an apology, my friend,” he chuckled. “Besides, you know I don’t mind.”

Remus huffed and coughed against the rag, furrowing his brow as he folded it to only lay on his forehead, pressing it down hard enough to let some of the water trickle down his skin. He sighed at the feeling of the cold water reaching his chapped lips, his tongue swiping between them just as Sirius pressed the rim of a bottle to his lips. Remus’ lids shot open and he peered over at Sirius before back down at the glass of water, practically ripping it from his friend’s grip as he chugged the entire thing down, hiccuping and wiping the little bit that had dribbled onto his chin before handing it back.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” Remus apologized, letting his head fall to the side to get a better look at Sirius in his night clothes. Sirius shook his head, setting the glass of water down against the nightstand, once again leaning back in his seat. “No matter, I was awake anyway,” he replied. “Was just figuring out what to wear for brunch at the castle tomorrow.”

Remus rolled his eyes at this— somehow, it always seemed to slip his mind that his best friend was rich, and a lord for that matter. “Right,” Remus muttered. “While I’m doing my best not to die, you’re rubbing elbows with royalty. Almost forgot.”

Sirius, too, rolled his eyes and snickered at this, “it’d do you well to remember that I’m the one making sure you’re not dying in this very moment. Wouldn’t want to jeopardize your position right now, would you?”

Remus scoffed, rolling his head to gaze back up at the ceiling. “Right,” he murmured. “Well, thanks for helping me out, mate. And don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair come morning.”

“Now, wait a minute here, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” Sirius chuckled, leaning forward in his chair. Remus peeled a single eyelid open, glancing over to his friend. “The full moon’s not for another few weeks now, is it? And you’ve already got it this bad.”

“Two weeks, actually,” Remus sighed. “My symptoms seem to have gotten worse lately. Not even one of your million galleon beds takes away the pain.” Sirius pursed his lips, “not a million galleons, for one thing. Second, I thought you didn’t get this bad until the day before a transformation. Are you alright?”

Remus opened both his eyelids again, cocking an eyebrow towards his friend. “Really?” He scoffed. “Oh, I’m doing just fine and dandy here, thanks so much for asking.” Sirius’ chest puffed when he huffed, “I can throw you back out onto the street if you fancy.”

Remus huffed, easing himself further down into the mattress. “I’m better now,” he sighed. “Just… tired.” Sirius eyed his friend, Remus’ skin still slick with a layer of sweat but at the very least, he didn’t seem prone to hurl his dinner out at any given moment anymore. Sirius soothed his palms over his thighs before pushing off of his seat, fingernails scratching at his scalp. “Get some sleep,” Sirius said as he made his way towards the door. “Leave whenever you need to tomorrow. I’ll probably already be gone.”

Remus’ lips tugged into a smirk, “off rubbing elbows with the royal family?”

Sirius hissed and rolled his eyes in their sockets, “piss off.”

With that, Sirius closed the door behind him, leaving Remus all alone in one of the manor’s many bedrooms, blinking up into the black above where the ceiling would be. His muscles were sore and aching, the upcoming full moon lingering in the corner of his mind. How much longer would he have to bear this? How much must he suffer before he finally went numb? Before he felt nothing at all?

Remus sighed, letting his eyelids flutter closed, hoping sleep would overtake him soon. He was grateful for Sirius, for having at least a comfortable bed to sleep in, unlike his own bed at home that was no better than sleeping on pins and needles. Remus let himself fall deeper into mattress, slowly but surely feeling himself slip into the arms of a deep slumber…

a/n; so uh... surprise? so sorry for my long hiatus! between college and work, i have just hardly had any time for anything, especially writing but i'm back! and with a series of all things lol but i'm so excited to finally be posting this and i hope you all enjoy this as much as i do! please either comment or fill out my taglist form in my pinned post if you'd like to join my taglist for this series!

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin au #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin smut #remus lupin royalty au #pasukiyo #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine #marauders #marauders era #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #marlene mckinnon

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noxxytocin · 2 months ago

Note

TRICK OR TREAT 👻💛

A little Sebinis for you to enjoy while in London. 🫴✨

Detention

NSFW - 18+ Only

“Isn't this just splendid?” Sebastian grumbled, raising his lantern to illuminate the twisted trees of the Forbidden Forest.

“You're one to talk,” Ominis shot back with a sharp tone, his wand emitting a pulsing scarlet light. “You got us into this mess, if you recall. And let's not forget, this is my first time getting detention. My family will have my head.”

A slight grin tugged at the corner of Sebastian's lips. "Your first time, huh? Don't worry, Ominis. I'll go easy on you,"

But before Sebastian could continue with another wry remark, Ominis's foot connected swiftly and sharply with his calf.

"Ow! Bloody hell, Ominis," Sebastian chuckled, holding onto his leg as he hobbled. "Alright then, keep your knickers in a knot. Just thought a touch of levity might make this ordeal more bearable."

“I’m being serious,” Ominis took a deep breath, his usually stoic demeanor cracking with genuine concern. "I fear the punishment that awaits me at home this summer," he confessed.

With a wave of his hand, Sebastian brushed off Ominis' worries. "You need not suffer through it. Join us at Feldcroft once again.”

A dry chuckle escaped Ominis. "My father would rather lock me up in that cold, desolate estate. And if word gets out that you led me astray..." He trailed off. “…well, he may just reduce Feldcroft to ashes.”

And if they discovered the true nature of their relationship...well, they wouldn't hesitate to make both of them pay with their lives.

“And I’ll reduce him to a toad,” Sebastian snarled. "He'll rue the day that he tries to take you away from me,”

Ominis was captivated by Sebastian's daring spirit, akin to a squirrel defiantly guarding its last acorn from a boisterous flock of crows. Recklessness, valor, and foolishness colored him. Was this what had drawn Ominis to him in their first days? His idiocy?

Even so, it was charming—his bravery.

Sebastian found Ominis's hand and held it, intertwining their fingers. His grip tightened, the rough calluses of his palm pressing against Ominis's own. A protective gesture—a familiar one.

"How much further must we go?" Ominis asked, the frosty air biting at his rose-colored cheeks.

"Not much longer now," he reassured. "But perhaps a break is in order?" With a swift motion, Sebastian set down the lantern. "Shall I start a fire?" he offered.

“And burn down the entire forest? Absolutely out of the question,” Ominis scoffed, his tone sharp and authoritative as he refused the suggestion. But before he could protest further, Sebastian's lips crashed against his own. Ominis froze in shock but quickly gave in to the sudden kiss, inviting those hungry, hot lips.

Just as quickly, Sebastian pulled away, leaving Ominis’s heart whining in protest. His voice dropped into a husky whisper, breaking the stillness of the night air. “Perhaps... a different kind of fire then?”

“What do you mea- mm…” Ominis attempted before feeling Sebastian's lips on his once more, accompanied by a hand slipping down to his trousers. A gasp escaped from his full lips as their tongues desperately intertwined. “Sebast…nnn,” Trouser buttons yielded, and Ominis could immediately sense skilled fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking him with practiced precision.

“That's right, be a good boy now,” Sebastian whispered. “Don't make a peep. Our dear Professor isn’t too far off.”

A firm and eager hand traced slow patterns on Ominis's foreskin—unhurried strokes. With each pull, appreciation escaped their lips as they both surrendered to the consuming flames. Ominis's tongue slithered into Sebastian's mouth, the taste of him igniting a fiery desire in his core.

His saliva was thick and hot—molten gold, and Ominis wanted to drink it all in like fine mead. "M-Merlin...ahh," he moaned as Sebastian's movements grew more urgent.

With just a few more calculated strokes, Ominis exploded in a white-hot release all over Sebastian's hand.

Sebastian deftly cleaned up with a flick of his wand, leaving no trace behind. But what remained unchanged was Ominis's state: panting, flushed, and dripping with sweat.

"Well then, it seems detention was good for something after all," Sebastian quipped.

#sebinis #ominis x sebastian #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy

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gardenwalrus · 1 month ago

Text

Paul McCartney at the home of Ann Davis, posing with his new puppy, Martha, and Davis' sheepdog, Cuddles, mid-1966

PAUL: 'Martha was my first ever pet. I never had a dog or a cat at home. My parents both went out to work, which was why we couldn't have any, even when one terrible day they were giving away free puppies! Just a hundred yards away from where we lived. We came screaming home, my brother and I, 'They're giving 'em away! We can get one if you tell us now, we can go and get one, we've chosen the one we want!' They said, 'You can't have one, son. Me and your mum go out to work and it wouldn't be fair on a dog.' 'We'll look after it, we'll do it.' 'You're at school.' 'Well, we'll come back at lunchtime. Surely?' 'No, no, no.' Crying crying crying. We just couldn't understand because they were free! We could understand not buying one because we weren't that well off, but passing up a freebie puppy! He was quite firm about stuff like that and I suppose he was right.' Paul drove out to get Martha from Ann Davis, a breeder in High Wycombe. The dog was like a huge tangled ball of wool and kept bumping into things because her hair covered her eyes until they tied it up in ribbon. PAUL: 'She was a dear pet of mine. I remember John being amazed to see me being so loving to an animal. He said, "I've never seen you like that before." I've since thought, you know, he wouldn't have. It's only when you're cuddling around with a dog that you're in that mode, and she was a very cuddly dog.'

- Barry Miles, Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now (1997)

Sir Paul, who was then dating Jane Asher, turned up in his Aston Martin DB6 at [Ann Davis’] home, where he posed with her sheepdog Cuddles before driving back to London with his new puppy, priced at ten guineas. A few weeks later, the breeder received a telephone call asking if she could look after the pup while the Fab Four were travelling abroad. The great-grandmother said yesterday: ‘He was very attached to the puppy and he didn’t want to leave it with his housekeeper.’ But when the dog arrived at her home in High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire, she was in for a shock when she was told what the star had called it. ‘Paul being Paul had decided to call the dog “Knickers”,’ the 84-year-old - now Mrs Arch after remarrying - said. The name is thought to have been coined after the pup had an accident on Sir Paul’s lap. She added: ‘I told him that if I was going to look after her, I wasn’t standing at the back door shouting out “Knickers!” - so I called her Nicky.’ After keeping the pup for a month, she was returned to London, where Miss Asher had been ‘disgusted’ by the choice of name. As a result, Knickers became Martha [...]

- Daily Mail Online, 11 November 2017 (x)

#paul crying over not getting a freebie puppy + mimi giving away (or /allegedly/ putting down) john's puppy...#just let them have pets omg </3 #paul mccartney

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thenerdykneazle · 1 year ago

Text

Dear Diary

Summary: You stumble across Garreth's rather scandalizing diary while waiting for him to meet up with you.

Garreth Weasley x Gryffindor F!MC

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, 7th year, aged-up characters

Word count: 2263

You sat on the edge of the fourposter bed. The maroon curtains were tied back, leaving it open. You looked around the room. It resembled your own, having the same beds with the exception that these were numbered. Garreth also had one more roommate than you did, though the room was smaller than yours. The five beds were packed into the small room at the top of Gryffindor tower. It also lacked the sitting area yours had, though a similar enchanted mirror stood near the door. The room was cleaner than you had ever seen it, too, as most of its residents were away for the holidays. The sole exception was Garreth. He had retuned just after Christmas to spend time with his aunt. As such, his desk was as strewn with papers as ever. It was filled with books, a few for his actual classes but most were various extracurricular tomes on potions and herbology. A portrait of the last Gryffindor captain to win the quidditch cup was hung above it.

Currently, you were waiting for Garreth to return from getting lunch with his aunt. You flopped back, lying sideways across the bed as you stared at the ceiling in boredom. You yawned as you stretched your limbs as far as you could reach them. Perhaps you would sneak in a nap while you waited. The break had been wonderfully peaceful – a stark contrast to your usually hectic schedule. Not a single soul had come to you in crisis, which meant you had been using a lot of time to catch up on much-needed sleep.

However, you decided against the nap since Garreth was set to return shortly. You got up and sat at his desk, looking through the pages of notes on his newest experiment. While you refused to be his guineapig, the concoctions did intrigue you. You drummed your fingers on the desk absentmindedly, tapping to the tune of one of the numerous Chudley Cannons cheers Garreth had taught you over the summer. Suddenly, a drawer you had never noticed in the desk slid open.

“And who are you?” you said as you plucked the lone book out of the drawer before sliding it shut.

You flicked it open, and your eyes scanned the black scrawl on the pages. A diary! You glanced at the door before returning your gaze to the book. Your heart rate accelerated with excitement. You knew you should put it back. Clearly these were private thoughts, hidden away behind a charm. Although, it wasn’t your fault the book practically thrust itself into your lap. You were flipping through the pages as you dialogued with yourself on the morality of perusing something so personal to your friend.

You held the book in both hands as you read the most recent entry. It was a sweet musing about Garreth’s excitement for break. He talked about missing his family and looking forward to quality time with his aunt. He also wrote a bit about the potion he hoped to perfect over break, a fizzing beverage that makes the drinker burp bubbles. You smiled as you read the words. You worked your way backwards, reading through complaints about classes and teachers, especially Professor Sharp. Though, despite his frustrations with him, he clearly had admiration for the man, as well.

An entry from two weeks prior gave you pause.

I had the best dream last night. It was about her, of course. In it, we spent the day in Hogsmeade, browsing Honeydukes and Zonko’s, before spending the night drinking at the Three Broomsticks. We stayed in the private room above the tavern, and she was all over me, kissing my neck and grabbing my hair. I got her knickers off, and she was so wet for me. I swear I could feel her slick now. It was so vivid.

Before I knew it, we were naked on the bed. She was under me as I slid into her. She moaned my name as I thrust sharply into her over and over. She mewled and pleaded for more, and I gave it to her. Merlin, I loved the way her voice cracked as she came, calling my name again. I was surprised I hadn’t actually spilled my seed when I woke up. What I wouldn’t give to hear her moaning my name in the waking world. I do so love the sound of it on her lips in her innocent greetings. Oh, how deliciously it would echo in my ears as she fell apart. Gods, I hope the memories of this dream never fade.

Wide-eyed, you looked around the room again, ensuring you were still alone. The sordid words shocked you. You would never have expected such vulgarity from the genial boy. Well, he wasn’t a boy anymore, you supposed. Well into your seventh year, you had both matured over the last two years. For Garreth, that meant filling out considerably. His broad shoulders and muscular arms served him well on the quidditch pitch. His strong forearms exposed from perpetually rolled-up sleeves were rather distracting in class. So was the way he loosened his tie in potions as the steaming cauldrons heated the room.

It was a small mercy that the woman in his dream went unnamed. It would be too much to know who had stolen the affections of the boy you cared for so ardently. Though, that didn’t stop you from rifling through the diary to try to find it out, against your better judgment. You found several other recountings of his wet dreams. He wrote of dreaming about her riding him and “watching her impale herself on [his] prick.” He wrote of another dream where he bent her over one of the potions stations and pounded into her from behind. An entry on a dream about eating her out in the astronomy tower after meeting her to fill out star charts brought a particularly strong blush to your cheeks. Yet not once did he mention her name.

You had made it all the way back to entries from the beginning of sixth year. It was there that you found the entry that sealed your fate.

She was driving me mad today. I swear she does it on purpose, leaning over tables so that her arse sticks out, begging to be grasped, and biting her lip to draw my eye to it. Even the lightest touch on my arm or brush of her fingers on my hand sets my skin ablaze. Gods, I’m desperate to tell her how I feel. I need to know if she feels the same. Yet, I cannot. We’ve become such good friends, and I couldn’t bear to make her uncomfortable if she doesn’t feel the same. Besides, she and Aunt Matilda are so close. I know my aunt loves me, but she is certain I would lead her into trouble. Aunt Matilda told me as much herself when she first arrived last year. Can’t imagine why she thinks so, though. I’m sure my aunt already warned her against me, and, even if she would give me a chance despite it, Aunt Matilda would never approve.

You almost missed it. The key phrase that made everything click into place: when she first arrived last year. He was talking about you. Fantasizing about you. Your skin tingled as a thrill ran up your spine. You were desperate to read more, but the sound of someone ascending the steps had you snapping the book shut. You tried to pull the drawer open, but it didn’t budge. You shoved the diary between random tomes on one of the desk’s shelves just before the door swung open. You were trembling with adrenaline.

“Good afternoon! Sorry I’m late. Aunt Matilda was extra chatty today,” he said brightly.

“Hi! No need to apologize, Garreth,” you replied as naturally as you could while feeling breathless and like your heart was about to beat out of your throat.

You saw his smile brighten a bit at the use of his name, and you couldn’t help the smirk that played on your lips. “Ready to ring in the new year?” he asked.

It was December 31st, and you two had plans to attend a party in Hogsmeade.

“Actually, Garreth, I was thinking we could hang out here for a while,” you said. You were eager to experiment with the knowledge you had gained. “I don’t want to start partying too early.”

Garreth sat on the side of his bed, facing you. His knee was mere inches from yours. “Okay. What would you like to do? We could bundle up and play summoner’s court, or we could nick some hot cocoa from the kitchens and hang out in the common room by the fire.”

As you looked in his emerald eyes, it was like you had never really seen them. You had always averted your gaze so quickly, afraid he’d see into your soul and reveal the feelings you worked so hard to keep hidden. Now as you gazed into them, you could see the adoration with which he looked at you. “I figured we could just stay up here for a while, Garreth,” you said. You wanted privacy.

He tilted his head as he smiled at you. “Why do you keep saying my name?” he asked, bemused.

You shrugged. “It’s a nice name. Very strong. Masculine,” you said. “Don’t you think, Garreth?”

A blush crept onto his freckled cheeks. “I guess so,” he said sheepishly.

You chucked. “I can stop if you’d rather, though,” you said seriously.

“No,” he blurted out far too quickly. “I mean…you don’t have to.”

The corners of your mouth ticked up again. “Good,” you said. “Because I like saying your name, Garreth.” You let your knee bump against his.

Garreth’s heart was racing. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that he liked it, whatever it was.

You let your fingers rest on his forearm. “Do you like it?” you asked.

His gaze shifted from your hand to your eyes. He looked at you with a furrowed brow. “What?”

You gave him your most innocent expression. “Do you like it? When I say your name?”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and lips parted. Was he dreaming? He felt like he was awake, but surely you would only say such things in his dreams. He just nodded, unable to find any words.

Your smirk grew. You were loving the effect you were having on the ginger lad. “What about watching me impale myself on your prick? Would you like that?”

Garreth may well have been part mooncalf with how wide his eyes were now. He had reread his own words enough times to recognize them immediately. His eyes flicked to his desk, searching for the familiar cover. He spotted it quickly on the shelf – very much not where he had left it. “I can explain,” he said in a panicked tone.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the corners turned down. “Seemed pretty self-explanatory to me,” you mused.

“Where was–I mean, how did you–?” he stammered to his shoes.

“I was just tapping on your desk as I read through some notes, and the drawer popped open,” you said.

He shook his head in disbelief at his bad luck. “I’m so sorry you had to read that,” he said, his gaze still downcast.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your frantic friend. “Garreth, look at me,” you said.

He winced as his eyes flitted up to your face. He was surprised by what he saw. He expected you to be scowling, maybe borderline murderous. Instead, he found an amused, slightly arrogant smile. Your eyes scanned his face, lingering on his lips. You trapped your own lip between your teeth as you stared at him with unmistakable lust.

Your eyes met his as you spoke. “I’m not sorry at all that I read it. In fact, I was hoping to read more before I heard you coming.”

He could feel the desire burning in his stomach immediately. He repeated your words in his mind several times, checking if there was any possibility that he could be misinterpreting them. Once he was certain he understood you correctly, he was leaning over you, his hands resting on the edges of your chair. His face hovered a few treacherous inches from yours as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Why don’t I show you instead, love?” he asked.

You grabbed his tie and pulled him down so his lips met yours. You tangled a hand in his ginger curls, and his hands slid up your thighs as he kissed you back fiercely. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, entreating you for entry. Your lips parted, and his tongue slid along your own, exploring your mouth. Garreth pulled back beaming at you. You were both panting for air.

“So, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’?” he teased.

You bit your lip again as you nodded. “I’m quite curious about your dream in the astronomy tower,” you said as you gazed into his verdant eyes.

He gave you a devilish smile before hoisting you straight up from the chair. You let out a surprised squeal before giggling. He was careful not to hit your head as he laid you on his bed. His tongue darted out across his lips as he looked down at you like a starved chimera at a rabbit. His eyes glinted with desire. “I’ve been rather curious about it myself.”

#garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #garreth weasley fanfic #garreth weasley fanfiction

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dilfiam-afton · 2 years ago

Note

Do you take one-shot requests? I was wondering if you could maybe write William reacting to the reader kissing his scars? I really enjoy the one you wrote with William being insecure and the idea of the reader kissing his scars popped into my head

Why yes I do!

"It adds character"

Summary: Just because William hates his looks doesn't mean you can't love them, right?

Per usual, I try to keep this as gender neutral as I can, and the reader is of age!

It was a lovely, yet (unfortunately for you) rather early summer morning in Hurricane, Utah. The sun wasn't up yet, and it was rather cold in the early mornings. Well...You wouldn't be up so early anyways if it wasn't for William! William loves starting his days super early; waking you up with soft kisses, before he moves on to take his morning shower while you prepare breakfast for the two of you and then finally, have breakfast together before he needs to leave for work. And with William being the tradition loving man he is, he expects adores it, when you lay his clothes out for him in the morning. Gestures like that make him feel more appreciated - but today you forgot.

So, naturally, you decide to fix your little mistake before he takes notice by simply laying his clothes out now. You snuck into the bathroom, balancing a neatly stacked pile of clothes in one hand, using the other to open the door. Apparently you hadn't thought of fixing your mistake early enough because William had already finished his shower and was now standing in front of the bathroom mirror, applying some sort of ointment to his springlock scars. The man chuckled to himself upon looking at you through the mirror. "Thank you, love. Almost thought I had to get my own knickers!" you jokingly rolled your eyes at him before giggling. "Would it have killed you to, though?" you joked along to which William replied with an exaggerated nod. "What is that lotion anyway?" "Oh, this?" he held up the little tin of ointment, the label on it read 'scar ointment' "this is s'posed to make up for the dumb mistakes you made when you were younger which left you permanently disfigured!" and even though he said it in a sing-sang, joking tone you didn't feel he meant it lightly.

"Oh..come on now, Darling." you stepped closer to the man, already having placed his clothes on the bathroom shelf, "you're not disfigured!" "what else would you call all this, then?" william wildly gestured all over his scarred body. You shrugged, letting a finger run over one of the many scars of his back. "I'd say-" "careful there!" you quickly pulled your hand back, startled by his sudden loud voice. "I'm sorry, Dear. They're just sensitive" william quickly apologized "ah I see. Is that what that lotion is for?" "What, the ointment? No. It's supposed to make them look less...obvious, brutal." oh. After a few brief seconds of silence, you simply asked him why he'd want them gone. He chuckled "why would I not? Not exactly pretty, are they?" "well I like them!" you quickly blurted out - "they make you unique! Just like the small toothgap you have. It's just those little things that...I dunno..just add character"

"If you say so." was all he replied before he continued massaging the ointment further into his skin. For a brief moment you just stood there, not knowing what to do. Did you offend him? Sighing, you did the only thing that came to mind - pressing your lips to his scars tenderly, before reaching around him to get some of the ointment to help him with the scars on his back. At first he tensed up as your little lips first met the tender flesh but he quickly re-gained his posture. The both of you stayed in comfortable silence and all his scars were now kissed and well covered in the ointment you left to start breakfast.

A few minutes later you already found William sitting at the table, smiling sheepishly. "What are we having?" "Eggs and bacon on toast sound alright?" "It'll do" "Did I upset you?" William let out a long sigh before replying "not really, no. I'm more upset with myself than anything. See, I used to be the charming, handsome businessman. And now? People think I'm hideous, an Idiot, even! Every so often children at the diner ask their parents 'what happened' upon seeing me and more often than not their parents reply with something like 'things like that happen when you do something that's dangerous and dumb for money!'" he let out a huff "I just don't like the way things turned out for me. After the accident, my ex wife didn't want to touch me anymore. My own children were afraid of me! Even henry would sometimes grimace in disgust when I rolled up my sleeves and he saw the scars." You put a plate with food in front of him, before gently wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he sat and just simply started eating. "Sorry anyways. Not your problem, I know. Situation just really bothers me is all.." "awh..I get that" you kissed his temple, caressing him, silently comforting the while he complained until he had to leave for work.

You were even more determined to make him feel loved than ever now.

{Should I make this a mini-series as well, maybe? Y'all tell me. Anyway! I'd suggest anyone who wants to send in a request of their own to look at my rules, I pinned them :3}

*1 - LOOK AT HIS LITTLE TOOTH GAP AWJWJWJQJE

Also! Nuudels William and I have the same teeth. So does Willem DaFoe.

Picture belongs to @6simp_nuudel9 on instagram

#fnaf x reader #william afton #william afton x reader #fnaf #fnaf fanfic #fnaf imagines #dilfiam afton #fnaf william afton #peepaw willy

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elisysd · 1 year ago

Text

22. It’s a love story baby just say yes

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Love Story - Taylo Swift

Julia had spent her entire flight from Shanghai to Milan making phone calls and sending emails. She was a girl on a mission and it was a welcome distraction, the opportunity for her to take her mind off of Ethan. Her dad had a clear vision of what he wanted and her job was to make it happen. No matter what. It had been settled, the proposal would happen on the Thursday morning, before the media activities, so it would still be calm. A lot of people were expected which wouldn’t surprise Lyanna as Monza was a family tradition and friends and family were always attending. This year, there would be a little bit more of loved ones but Julia hoped her mom would not find that weird.

Beside being excited about the proposal, she couldn’t wait to meet someone that was dear to her. Her cousin, Daphne. She was not really her cousin by blood but they had basically grown up together until life got in the way and they had to go on their separate ways. But Daphne lived in Italy and she would be in Monza, as her parents, Lily and Lando would be there. She had texted her as soon as she had landed and agreed to meet up in a coffee shop in Milan where Julia would spend a few days before she was needed on the track.

It wasn’t hard for her to find Daphne. She hadn’t change. She still had the same dark hair and tanned skin, the result of years spent in Greece and now in Italy for her art studies. She was casually working on her laptop, taking notes on the side but as soon as Julia appeared in her field of vision, she squealed before getting up and running to her.

“Dane! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” Julia exclaimed, attracting weird looks from customers.

“Julia! I’m so happy to see you! It’s been so long, oh my gosh I have so many questions. We need to catch up, come here.” the girl retorted, taking her by the arm and dragging her to the area she was sitting in.

Julia ordered a cappuccino before they started talking. Daphne hadn’t changed. She was still passionate about art and could spent hours talking about it, without it being annoying. Julia told her all about her job, avoiding mentioning her struggles, she wanted to have a day without thinking about them.

“And… who is that mystery man you are soft-launching on your social media for weeks now? I saw the rumours but I can’t believe that it could be Ethan. You have always hated him.”

Julia winced. She knew the history between Daphne and Ethan. How he was her first love and first kiss and how he had been an asshole to her, playing her and making her believe that he loved her. It took months for Daphne to forget him and with time, she had become an ally whenever Julia needed to rant and vent about him. She knew that Daphne hated him as much as her. And that’s why she didn’t know how to announce to her that they were dating. She was scared of how the brunette would react.

“Yeah… about that…” she started.

“Is it a guy from Lamborghini? Or Ferrari? I have to admit that Elijah is pretty good looking. I always had a thing for Spanish men. I have a Spanish teacher and let me tell you that he is hot as hell.” Daphne told her, excitedly.

“Daphne, you have to promise you won’t get mad.”

“Why would I be?”

“Just promise me you will let me explain everything before jumping to conclusions, okay.”

“Ju, you are scaring me.”

“Just promise!”

“Okay, fine! Oh gosh, don’t need to get your knickers in a twist!”

Julia sighed and took a deep mouthful of her cappuccino.

“I didn’t expect it, you have to believe me. It just… happened. Ethan and I are dating. And I didn’t plan it you have to believe me. We spent time together and he is not that bad, he definitely is a great guy. A bit stupid and arrogant sometimes and he likes to joke around and to tease me more than necessary but… I really like him. I feel… seen with him you know. I can be myself with him he won’t judge me or use me. I feel safe and I feel good about myself. It has not happened in a long time. You know how hard it is for me to trust people and to create friendships and relationships. You know that it wouldn’t have happened if I had any doubts about him. Right?”

Daphne was quiet. Too quiet. She was avoiding Julia’s gaze and when she finally looked at her, she could see how angry she was.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You… you are okay with it? Like one hundred percent sure?”

She could see Daphne scribbling furiously on her notebooks and drawing shapes and lines, as if she was trying to contain her anger.

“What is done is done, anyway. It’s not as if I had something to say about it. You won’t care. So you do you, Julia.”

“I don’t want things to get weird and uncomfortable for you… I wanted you yo know before we make our first public apparition together this weekend.”

“Oh, so it is that serious, then. Great. Amazing. Perfect. What is the next step? You are going to ask me to be your maid of honour for your wedding? The godmother of your kid?”

“Dane… please…”

She snapped her head to Julia and that’s when she finally exploded.

“You know how bad he hurt me. You know how many nights I spent thinking that something was wrong with me because of him. How it affected the image I had of myself. I was fourteen at the time but his words and the feeling I won’t ever be enough for someone is something that I still carry with me. You know all of that. And still, you decide to be with him? After all he has done to me and has done to other girls? You will just be another name on his list, Julia! Nothing else! He doesn’t love you, he is incapable of that! I thought you, out of all people, would know that and would never fall for that.”

She was standing now and with rage started to put back in her bag her things.

“Dane… please…” begged Julia.

“No. From now on, it’s Daphne for you.” said the brunette and without a second glance, left Julia here, thinking that she had lost one of her best friend for a boy, something she had swore to herself would never happened.

She wandered the streets of Milan, lost in thoughts. She knew telling about Ethan to Daphne would be hard but she hadn’t expected this reaction. It had always been a sensitive topic but it had been year snow since the holidays in Greece, there was water under the bridge. But not for everyone apparently. Now, she could only hope that Daphne wouldn’t be mad for long. She would hate herself if she had sacrificed a friendship for a boy. But it would be a problem for later, for now she needed to finalised the last detail for her dad’s big day.

“You look gorgeous, Julia.” said her aunt Kika.

She was wearing the exact replica of the dress her mom had worn the night she won her Oscar. It had taken a lot of time for her aunt but she managed to work her magic and find it in a vintage shop.

“Thank you. I’m so stressed out. I hope everything will be perfect. They deserve it.”

“You managed to make it happen, Julia. And it looks so amazing. They will love it.”

A few seconds later, Louis went out of the bathroom, wearing the special merch of the year her dad and mom had gotten together. He looked really cute but was looking very uncomfortable.

“It was in the attic. We should have cleaned it before I got to wear that.” he complained.

“You look fine, don’t worry. And I promise that I soon as dad got on one knee, you can remove it.”

The group soon headed to the reception where Pierre was waiting for them, along with both Julia’s uncles, Lorenzo and Arthur. They were all dressed in their best tuxedos, holding presents and red roses to give to Lyanna. Julia checked her phone, they still had one hour to get into position and be ready for when her mom would arrive with Kat and Lily. She had to leave now to make sure everything was in place and give the last instructions.

In the Ferrari hospitality, Charles had never felt so stressed out in his entire life. Winning a championship, marrying Lyanna, having their kids, all had been stressful moments, but the idea of asking his wife a second time to marry him… that was another level of stress. Of course he knew she would say yes, there was not a doubt in his mind. But still, he was asking her to keep trusting him with her heart. He was asking her to keep promising they would be there for one another. Officially. And he was scared, so scared that his fingers were shaking as he tried to put on his racing suit.

“Do you need help?” Julia entered the room, a soft smile on her face as she saw her dad struggling.

“Please. I look stupid.”

“No, you don’t. Sure the suit is a bit tighter that on the pictures but hey, you are an old man now.”

“I’m not that old.”

“You are vintage.”

A laugh escaped him and Julia soon joined him.

“Thank you, Ju’. For everything. I couldn’t have done it without your help.” he said squeezing her to his side.

“Don’t make me cry right know. Are you sure you have everything? Your wedding ring?”

“With Elijah.”

She nodded. One last hug to her dad and a kiss on his cheek and she was out. He feet drove her to the end of the pitlane where was exposed her dad’s first world championship car. It was still looking perfect, even after all this time. She was taking the time to inspect it when she saw a bright red suit coming in her direction.

“Wow, Julia you look… I have no words.”

“Thanks. I tried to reproduce my mom’s Oscar winning look. I hope she will like it.”

Martin kept on staring at her, making her slightly uncomfortable until Elijah came to them, his helmet on, completely in his world. They were soon joined by Louis and her dad, that sat in the car. She addressed a reassuring smile to her dad as he kept fidgeting with his fingers.

Soon, Ethan arrived next to Max, telling Julia that her mom was on her way.

When Lyanna arrived in the paddock with Kat, she knew that there was something weird about this day. Everyone had been vague when talking to her and she had barely seen her husband and children when usually they were all glued together when Monza was happening. She knew Julia had stuff to do but Charles… He always managed to find time for her, to take her out for dinner or to walk around the track after the qualifying to reminisce about the past. But this year, they didn’t do it and she had to admit that it was bothering her. As she was heading to the Ferrari hospitality, Kat quickly took her by the arms to give her an envelope.

“What is this?”

“A present. Kika and Pierre have another one that is waiting for you.”

Lyanna looked at her in disbelief, not understanding what was going on. Still, she opened it to find a framed picture in black and white of Charles and herself, in Abu Dhabi right after he finished the race and got his first title. This moment would always hold a special place in Lya’s heart, she was pregnant with Julia at the time and it was also that day, Charles had asked her to marry him. She blinked quickly to prevent the tears to fall down and walked in the direction Kat was pointing to her.

There, in front of what was once where Alpine’s hospitality was standing, she found the couple and their two boys, twins, waiting for her, with a big piece of what she guessed was art in front of them.

“I’m so happy to see you all. It’s been a while. Tristan, Leo, you boys are so tall now! Taller than your dad.”

“Or maybe it’s just him who is getting smaller with the age.” shrugged Tristan making his brother laugh.

“Ahahah. You boys are funny. Anyway, there you go. For you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, thinking that it was very on brand from the Gaslys. She remembered the picture all too well, it was engraved in her memory forever. Kika, Pierre and her, all wearing Pierre’s t-shirt with his name and driver’s number, laughing their asses off. They already had the almost same picture at home that Charles was hellbent on keeping it hidden.

“Charles will love it, I’m sure.” she said between two laughs.

“Lily and Lando are waiting for you, a few meters away from here.” added Kika.

As Lyanna was about to head there, she got stopped by Kika that threw her arms around her.

“I love you. You are like the sister I’ve never had and I admire you so much.”

“Kika! Don’t say that, I’m already about to cry…”

Reluctantly, they let go of each other and Lyanna headed to Lily and Lando. Daphne and her brother, Percy were there too. That made her happy, she knew how close Julia and Daphne were and how Percy was what was the closest thing a friend would be for Louis.

“So what do you guys have for me? A painting?” she asked. She knew what to expect now.

“No, better than that. Even though I had to stop Lily to make one.”

“There will always have other opportunities…” she smiled, handing to Lyanna a small package.

It was a gorgeous necklace made of seashells. She put it around her neck quickly.

“Santorini seashells.” Lily added.

“Your wedding…”

“We know how important that place is both for you and Charles.” said Lando, an arm around his wife waist and the other around Daphne.

“Where am I supposed to go next?” asked Lyanna.

“You learn fast. Joris is waiting by the Ferrari’s hospitality.”

And indeed he was there, sitting on the steps leading inside the building. He had a bag next to him and waved when he finally saw Lyanna. He scooted over, inviting her to sit by his side.

“So what do we remind you of? Because that’s the whole deal, right? Giving me things that are reminders of Charles and I relationship.”

“I think you will like this one. Everyone went with thoughtful and emotional gift, I presume. I chose one of my favourite moment.”

Inside the package, Lyanna found black pants, a black hoodie and a black balaclava. She shot a curious glance to Joris, waiting for him to explain.

“The day Charles dragged me along because you were going Christmas shopping with his ex-girlfriend. I felt like going on a spy mission. It was pathetic but cute and funny and I remembered thinking, if my best friend is ready to do go this far for this girl, then I’m sure she is the one and they will get married. I wasn’t wrong. Thank you for being there for him, for not letting him down. And thank you for being one of my best friend too. I love you, Lyanna. I don’t think I’ve ever told you.”

“Oh Joris. Come here.” She knew she would cry but never did she think it would be Joris that would give her the final blow.

They hugged for a moment and she swore Joris was crying too.

“So who is next?”

“Lorenzo and Arthur. They are the last ones before your husband. They are waiting for you at the garage.”

So she went there. She didn’t need to guess for long about the present, it was right in Arthur’s hands.

“A crown of flowers?” she smiled when she finally got to them.

“We don’t have to explain the reference, right?” asked Arthur.

“No you don’t. This movie will forever hold a special place in my heart, for more reasons than one.”

“It’s the beginning of your story. It’s how you met Charles. Everything led back to you so, a crown of flowers, a never ending circle… it was fitting.” explained Lorenzo.

“Can I wear it?”

Arthur put it on the top of her head as Lorenzo made her spin around.

“So… time to go meet Charles and your children. They are waiting at the end of the pitlane.”

They made their way together and Lyanna gasped when saw what was waiting for her there. Firstly, she noticed everyone standing there, looking at her as Arthur put a hand on the small of her back to make her move forward. She saw the smiles and how Kat, Kika and Lily were on the verge of tears. Then, she noticed Julia and Louis, perfect carbon copy of her and Charles. She went to them as they were handing her a bouquet of red and yellow roses with a prancing horse in it.

“You two… if I had known…” she started, taking both of them in her arms.

“That’s the whole point of a surprise, mom. For you not to know.” Julia joked, her throat sore as she was trying her best to not cry.

Lyanna kissed them both on the cheek before finally turning to her husband. He was still as handsome as when she first met him and suddenly it was like she went back in time to twenty-five years ago. Same place, same suit, same smile and same butterflies when he was near her. They went though hell and back, alone and together but managed to find their way back to each other every time. And she would do it all over again if given the chance. Martin and Elijah were next to him, entirely dressed and with their helmets on and visor down, looking like bodyguards and she couldn’t help but laugh through the tears. Finally, Charles stood up and went to her taking both of her hands in his.

“Lyanna, my love and the better part of me… I swore to you almost twenty-five years ago that I would always be fast, that I would always come back to you and that I would always love you. There has not been a day when this promise was not in the back of my mind. You complete me. It had always been you and I against the world. And then Julia came along and it was us three against the world. And then came Louis and it was us four against the world. You guys are my biggest strength but you, you are my everything. You are not only my wife or the mother of my children, or an Oscar-winning actress. You are my soulmate. You are my best friend, sorry Joris, my shoulder to lean on and my home. You are my lighthouse. You’re the only constant in my life. I’ve not always been the best dad or the best husband, I made mistakes, I keep on making them but you’ve always been by my side to help me get through them or to slap me in the back of the head. I’m still thanking the stars and my guardian angels that they put you on my path. I love you is not strong enough to express what I feel for you, Lya. It had never been. I wish a word could exist to tell you exactly what you are for me. So, Lyanna… would you keep on making me the happiest man on earth and to become my wife? A second time? Would you accept to keep on walking together on the life’s path and grow old together?”

Julia couldn’t help but cry as she saw her mom sobbing and profusely nodding. She felt a hot hand on her shoulder and someone pulling her against a chest. She recognised Ethan’s scent as he kissed the side of her head, still holding her close and rocking her slowly. She knew the photographers would have a field day between her parents and Ethan and herself but frankly, she didn’t care.

“I want to thank our Ju’ who helped me putting all of that in place. It wouldn’t have been this magical without her help.” said her dad, his voice filled with emotion.

She waved awkwardly, burying her head in Ethan’s chest as everyone was clapping and cheering for her. She felt happy for her parents but if she could hide somewhere she would. It was their day, not hers. She had only helped his dad to make his vision alive. Nothing else. She felt colder as Ethan let go of her but soon she was engulfed in a hug by her mom as she recognised her perfume. And then, two arms circled her waist and she knew it was her brother. Finally, two other strong arms pulled them all together against a hard chest and she knew it was her dad. She was hearing her mother’s sobs and feeling the awkward pat in the back that her brother was giving her. Knowing how much he was taking it upon himself to participate in the family hug made her heart full and made her want to cry even more.

“I love you all. More than anything. You guys are my biggest trophies and my biggest victory.” said Charles in their ears.

Author's note: I was so excited for this chapter I couldn't wait for you all to read it! A big thank you to @smoooothoperator for allowing me to borrow Daphne and her family. If you want to read about them, please check out her story Beautiful Stranger! What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

#writing #fiction #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #max verstappen fanfic #max vertsappen #f1 story

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wierdartistmarcell · 1 year ago

Text

Crowley clearly revelled in his verbal sparring with the older Winchester, and betwixt them, the crossroads became a metaphorical battleground for Dean's conflicted desperation, and Crowley's sadistic delight in toying with the hunter's weakened resolve. The air practically crackled with the untamed, uncertain bond between the two. A highly reactive chemistry that could only end in one of two ways.

Dean grimaced as he watched the King of Hell's expression.

"You are enjoying this too much." He sneered, only for Crowley to step closer, his eyes gleamed with a cruel, sadistic glee at the opportunity to play with Dean's desperation to such a delicious degree.

His smirk widened at Dean's words.

"Oh, Squirrel, always the straightforward little businessman. Now, let's see... what do I want in exchange for returning you to your demonic state?" He tutted, clearly already knowing exactly what he wanted Dean'send of the deal to be. "Ah! How about...your most cherished memories? Copies only, of course. I'd love a peak into that soap opera mind of yours."

Dean's expression hardened at the mere thought of the invasive act. Exposing his innermost thoughts to the king of Hell himself, having his mind entered in a way he would be unable to control. But what he feared most, however, was the question that lingered upon his tongue.

"Why? What the hell would you want with my memories?"

Crowley grinned, and once again stepped closer. Dean could feel the hair on his arms and neck stand up, as the demon was so close, they were practically breathing the same air.

"It's just for some assurance, darling. They're for my eyes only, that is, as long as you don't try to double-cross me. Plus, you do fascinate me terribly. I wish to know what moments haunts you and what joys keep you going in spite of them." Crowley purred, his voice low, vibrating directly from his chest in the raspy, near barratone tone which made others throw themselves at his feet with fear or want, or at times both. Situation dependant.

Dean hesitated, trying his best to grapple with the idea of baring his memories like a surrendering wolf, baring their underbelly.

"Fine." Dean barked. "Copies of my memories. What else?"

Crowley smirked, eyes narrowed, and he looked up into Dean's face, head slightly cocked. The way he held himself practically removing the 4-inch height difference between the two.

"Clever boy. You know I want more out of the deal. But It's more abstract, what I want. I simply want your loyalty. I dont want you to be some lap dog or glorified assassin. I simply want you to keep doing what you are doing. But you will, when needed, be loyal to me. You will not be physically able to harm me. Nor give away any information that would directly bring me harm."

Dean scowled at that but nodded reluctantly.

"Deal. My innermost memories, and my loyalty."

The King of Hell chuckled as he revelled in the clear desperation in the human's voice.

"Ah, Dean. You do drive a hard bargain, but it's a deal. My dear, I must be honest, I was waiting for you to return to me with this request. To become a demon again. This was your inevitable future. You were always fated to be a powerful demon.

Dean gritted his teeth at that. But Crowley was right. He was a natural at being a demon.

But that was still such a terrible thought.

"Whatever," he sneered, unwilling to dwell on the thought. "You want my memories, Crowley? Fine. But I warn you. They're not pretty."

"Oh, I am certain that they are much prettier than you give them credit for."

"If you dare taking photos of the kiss, I will rip your balls off." Dean warned, remembering, with a shudder, the photo Crowley had taken during Bobby's deal.

"Oooh, kinky~ But there's no need to get your knickers in a twist. This isn't a normal deal. We don't have to seal it with a kiss. Sorry to disappoint, Squirrel."

Dean blinked and nodded. He was definitely not disappointed. Nope...

Not at all.

Crowley smiled and pressed his thumb to Dean's forhead. He concentrated, and the both of them entered a standing sleep, making it a lot easier for Crowley to enter Dean's dreams and, most importantly, all his memories.

Dean's mind was like an abyss of sin and agony. Most of his memories seemed to be blurred with alocholism and self-loathing. But Crowley was a persistent being, and he finally managed to pull a happy memory from the ocean of despair. The warmth it radiated made it clear that this was indeed a very happy memory. Crowley concentrated further and ebtered the memory.

He found himself standing on a stained, wooden floor, loud, yet unrecognizable music dulled the back of his mind as he spotted two people at a table.

It was him. Them. The two of them. Him and Dean, sitting in a pub, dressed in cowboy hats, and Dean was laughing at something Crowley had said.

How the Hell is this guy allowed to be this handsome. And funny as fuck as well?

The echoing voice that was Dean's memory bounced in Crowley's own mind.

This had Crowley taken aback slightly, before leaving that memory.

After a bit more searching, Crowley found and entered another memory, this one was burning. Like a bright star amonst the abyssal masses that made up the memory pit.

He entered the memory, and found himself in a place that was quiet, and tranquil, bathed with the very first rays of the morning sun through a window.

It was a motel room. Not just a motel room... the motel room. He looked to the bed, he knew that would be where the two of them were. And indeed. But to his delighted surprise, the memory took place at a time where he himself had been sleeping, but, it seemed Dean had been awake still. Dean didn't say, or think about anything with any substance. All the hunter did, was laying with his head on the memory-Crowley's chest, fingers threading gently through his dark chest hair.

Was that truly all which made Dean so happy? Did this somehow create such a radient memory? Just a quiet, domestic moment?

Well, he ought to look for more memories for his hypothesis.

Indeed...that was the only reason for why he reached out for more, searching for the happiest, oh-so deliciously human memories of the man.

But finally, he untangled his figurative tentacles from Dean's mind, and once more focused his gaze upon reality, blinking away the red smoke at the corner of his eyes.

"Well, well, Dean. I wasn't expecting a stroll down our shared memory lane." He said with a grin threatening on his mouth. "Not that I would complain. I am glad you cherish our summer affair as much as I."

Dean scowled as Crowley spoke. Why did the british asshole have to make everything sound dirty? Having his happiest memories from the last decade, the moments that had allowed him to forget the horrors of the world, the horrors of himself, looked at through such a perverse lense. It sullied them.

"Yeah, yeah, real cosy times. Happy now?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Excstatic, darling. I must say, our little adventure sure seems to occupy a special place in that hunter heart of yours. You sure know how to make a girl swoon." Crowley teased.

Dean grumbled under his breath, having realized that Crowley was revelling in his new-found leverage.

Dean looked at him, frustration evident in his entie being.

"Get the fuck on with it." He sneered, whilst Crowley simply stood there, hands in his coat pockets, savouring the satisfaction which Dean's discomfort brought him. He leaned in closer, eyes half-lidded.

"Oh, I intend to, Dean." He purred.

As Crowley extracted the copies of Dean's memories, the crossroads echoed with the laughter and banter of of their unconventional partnership.

The two men looked at eachother, as their ongoing wardance on the crossroad battlefield seemed to slow in its rythm, as the silvery essence of the memories entered one of the rings on Crowley's hand.

Dean took a step closer, as he inhaled a deep breath. Frustration and defiance radiated off of him. He surprised the both of them as he grabbed the back of Crowley's neck, his fingers sliding between short strands of black hair.

"I don't trust you, Crowley." He hissed, making their eyes meet. "Seal the damned deal." His voice was heavy with something neither of the men were willing to acknowledge, before Dean, without another word, grabbed the front of Crowley's black coat with his free hand, and pressed their lips together in a heated kiss. A collision of conflicting emotions - desperation, defiance, and, though both once again ignored it, something deeper.

Crowley had initially been taken aback. But fuelled by the nostalgia of the memory lane, he soon responded with equal fervor, his arms wrapped around Dean's waist.

Though the crossroad was used to the infernal contracts which were sealed upon it frequently. The intensity of the moment between the two had it figuratively shudder.

As they broke apart, Dean's breath heavy, the charged energy still lingered in the air surrounding them.

"There. You can't weasel yourself out of your part of the deal. Now, do what you need to do." Dean said, lips swollen and pulled into a sneer.

Crowley wore an amused yet intrigued expression as he nodded, his smug expression hiding any hints of the unexpected kiss having affected him at all.

"If you wanted a kiss, you had only to ask, loverboy." He teased, his hands still resting on Dean's waist.

Their gaze lingered on each other as the intensity of the kiss faded into the night, leaving Dean to long for the hellfire heat, which always radiated slightly from Crowley's vessel. before Crowley stepped back. A triumphant expression formed on his lips. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, a small, black box appearing in his palm.

"The full transformation will not be immediate, but within the month, you will reach complete conversion." He said, opening the box. Within it was a vial that contained a small, black swirl of smoke.

"Is that part of a demon?" Dean asked, looking at the thumb-sized crystal vial.

"Yes." Crowley smirked. "Part of your demon soul." He smirked, uncorking the vial, allowing the demonic soul fragment return to Dean. "I trapped it before you betrayed me. This will graft itself to you and corrupt the rest of your soul."

The dark smoke made its way down Dean's throath and grafted itself over his heart.

"There you have it, Dean. Welcome back to the fold. Your new life is about to begin."

#digital art #character art #fanart #fandom ships #gay ships #supernatural crowley #supernatural fanart #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #dean x crowley #drowley #crowley #fergus macleod #corruption arc

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dreamersparacosm · 2 years ago

Note

3K!!!!!!!! you’re only going up from here!! i’d love smut number 33 with Elvis please!!!

think anyone will notice if i start fingering you right now? - austin!elvis

note ; THANKS BESTIE! the way i yelled at this prompt. this is so hot and i just know elvis would be having the time of his life with this one🫠

warnings ; fingering, suggestive language

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

he didn’t plan on being aroused at that moment, surrounded by your parents and his. it just had happened; it might have had to do with the plaid, delicate dress you had on that revealed a bit too much of your cleavage. he had been watching you for far too long. all your bending over, constant sitting and standing, gave him a perfect view of your glutes; and he couldn’t stand it any longer.

he readjusted himself in his seat, clearing his throat. you looked over at your boyfriend, eyes narrowed in suspicion as you watched him move again. he was beginning to distract you, and you didn’t want to cause any trouble in front of his mother. she already had enough of her doubts about you, and adding your parents into the mix didn’t make it any easier.

after watching him squirm for another few minutes, you slapped his arm when no one was looking, whispering into his ear, “elvis! what has gotten into you?”

he looked over at you wistfully, eyes meeting yours as an attempt to ground himself, but it only intensified the situation. “i’m sorry baby, i just can’t keep my eyes off ‘ya in that damn dress.”

his words took you aback, and you blinked, wondering if you had heard him utter those words correctly. you two had a very healthy sex life, but something about his words made you feel filthy, as if you were still as pure as a virgin. thankfully, your parents were too entranced but their own conversations to notice what was going on with their children. “just wait until we get home, baby,” you promised, patting his thigh sweetly.

“i can’t,” he whined out, motioning with his eyes to his pants, where his hardened cock strained against the outline of his dress pants. you looked away, fearful that someone would catch you staring for too long.

you were hoping he would just push aside his own feelings, but you knew your boyfriend better than that. sure enough, his fingers crept onto your bare thigh, tickling your skin and causing you to shiver in delight. his touch was electric, buzzing as he crept closer to your heat. “you need to stop,” you tried to murmur firmly, but came out more as a desperate moan.

he continued on with his movements, tracing the outline of your panties. at that point, you were beginning to soak through them, and he could feel the wetness peeking through the fabric and staining his finger. he inhaled a deep breath, wanting so desperately to plunge his fingers inside your core, “think anyone’ll notice if i start fingerin’ you right now?” he whispered into your neck, and your hand reached out to land on top of his, attempting to push him away from your drenched knickers.

“elvis,” you moaned out softly, your parents still ignoring the two of you. “not at the dinner table —“

you could barely finish your sentence before he had pushed your underwear to the side, circling his finger in the juices that splattered across your cunt. you gasped loudly, covering your mouth immediately. your free hand gripped the tablecloth, ignoring all eye contact with him, for you knew if you did, you would be at his mercy.

to your dismay, your mother turned back to you with a bright smile on her face, “so, elvis, you still haven’t told us about how you and [y/n] met! sweet girl wont tell us a thing.”

you bit your lip, ignoring his gaze as he chuckled at the comment. as he began to retell the story, his index and pointer finger hooked into your entrance, reaching your g-spot in one swift move. you covered your mouth again, trying to contain your pathetic whimpers. your father raised your eyebrows at you, interrupting elvis’ story and asking innocently, “you all right, dear?”

“y-yes, daddy,” you struggled to smile as elvis pumped his fingers in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, “just choked on a bit of food, all good now.”

you were in for a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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cyprus-green · 2 years ago

Text

To Hermione Jean Granger, An Offer

Dear Granger,

I bet you nearly threw this in the bin before reading it. Or perhaps you wanted to incendio the thing just as you recognised the seal. But you couldn't possibly resist taking a peek, could you? So very predictable of you Granger.

Yet, so very smart of you.

In truth, I nearly forgot to leave a note at all, after having gotten into your room. It's much messier than I expected. Do mudbloods not learn how to make their beds as children? Or is it that you don't use beds at all and sleep on the floor on straw mats? Regardless, I found being in your room a perfect moment to find out more about you, golden girl. And I have some thoughts.

For the love of Salazar Slytherin, you should be wearing knickers worthy of your age. I'm certain I've seen the same style in a botched delivery to McGonagall last winter. Just as well, you should've consider putting something up on your walls. And your desk... The current state of it all but confirms your aversion to nearly everything but intellectual persuits. But to be fair, these are the very least of your concerns.

Which brings me to the matter at hand and the reason for this letter.

Word on my magic, I believe you would have been the most magnificent and beautiful girl I'd ever met, if you weren't born a mudblood. It's a pity, really. A shame that such competence and intelligence is held by such unworthy hands. Such a horrible waste of those eyes and legs, and that pretty little mouth of yours. Such a tragedy, really. You, the forbidden fruit. The fall of any good man-- But we both know I am not a good man, Granger. You know as well as I that your filth is precisely what makes the taste of you so sweet.

You make such a tempting treat. Such a sweet and deadly indulgence. Such a curious vice. I've seen you. Felt your eyes seek me out in the great hall. I feel the heat in your cheeks while you pretend to dislike my attention. I know what you desire. I know what you need. I've seen inside your mind, Granger. Natural legillimens don't need wands or even need to speak the words. For weeks now I've looked inside your mind and seen the terribly naughty things you dream of doing. I've seen what you want to do with me. To me. For me. I've seen it, Granger. And I know that despite your scowls and biting words that you crave me. That you salivate at the thought of being able to taste my cock. That you dream of being folded over desks, fucked until your throat becomes raw from your screams of pleasure. Oh Granger, I have seen it all.

And it gave me pause.

I began to wonder what you could have been or who you would become, if not for your dirty blood. Don't you? At your core, you must know you don't belong here and yet you try. Oh how you try. Like a garden weed, pretending to be a fragrant flower. And while you may deceive most, Granger, I see what you are. I know who you are behind your swotty exterior. I know that underneath that rats nest, in that obnoxiously large brain of yours, that you see the truth. You have no place in this world. There is no good reason for you to exist. And yet, here you stand. Unworthy of the magic in your veins. Unworthy of even the privledge to walk in the spaces we exist. And you continue to pretend and continue to tempt my resolve.

You have neither the decency to be ashamed, nor the sense of self-preservation to be humble. You carry such a target on your back, not only because of your status but because of the company you keep. In the end, it shall get you killed, Granger.

But after some thought, an idea began to form.

And now I believe despite all that I said before, there may be some way you can avoid what is to come.

Offer yourself willingly to me and I shall guarantee your saftey and wellbeing in the war to come. This is a sincere offer that I give despite all your failings and shortcomings. Despite all the times you tried to humiliate and best me, I offer you survival.

I do this because I know you could have been mine. Had you been born a Greengrass. A Goyle. A Nott. Born to any of the Sacred Twenty-eight. You would have been mine and you would have seen what a privledge it would've been. I would have persued you. Courted you. Won your affections at any cost. Nothing would have kept you from me. You would have been be the most chershed, the most loved, the most lavished, the devastatingly beautiful, Lady Malfoy. You would have given me heirs. I would have loved you, proudly. But we don't live in that world, do we?

You see the Dark Lord begins his reign tonight. Tomorrow shall be the beginning of a whole new world. An entirely new order. The transition will not be smooth. You shall not escape it. No one shall.

Come to the astronomy tower tonight at half past 10. Kneel down with your hands behind your back. I'll come to you and finally give you what you've been aching for. A taste of what your future could be. And as I take that sweet little mouth of yours, I'll give you my word and my oath to protect you. And when you swallow my pleasure, you shall bind yourself to me.

You shall finally belong to me as you've so eagerly desired. And in return I shall ensure that gifted mouth, and those skilled hands not only survive the weeks and months to come, but shall be put to very, very good use. I shall hide you. Feed you. Fuck you. Protect you as He rises to power. After the war, I shall present you to the new world as mine. My own little mudblood, property of Draco Lucius Malfoy. Heir to the largest estate in Britain. You'll be the most well kept pet in the wizarding world. I'll even allow you to keep your magic, Granger. I'll allow you continue to read and study. To freely wander my wings of the manor. To freely wander the expansive grounds. I shall even allow you to use my potions lab.

Doesn't that sound tempting, Granger?

I may even give you children. Think of it, Granger. Our beautiful blond little bastards running around the manor. They'd have your curly hair and my eyes. They'd be brilliant. Of course they'd mostly live with mother and father, but you could always visit them. They would be shown mercy, because after all they have no choice in the matter. Children are a natural result of being bred night after night. And while they'd never officially inherent a single galleon of my estate, our children would certainly be well taken care of. They could live comfortably in one of our summer villas. Live off generous allowances. They would even be eligible to marry a third or fourth daughter of a lesser house. Marrying a Malfoy bastard is still better than most witches could ever deserve.

Of couse I shall have a wife and heirs. It is expected and is my sovereign duty to my family and name. But worry not, my dear Granger. You would always be my escape, my release, my forbidden indulgence. I would not forsake you or neglect you.

I believe this is the only way. Once you understand the true danger you are in and kindness of my offer, I believe you shall agree. Because try as you and your foolish friends might, by years end, mudbloods shall be all but erased from existence. It would be such an absolute waste. Such a pity to see you struck down. Your lovely brown eyes reflecting the green flash of an Avada.

Be reasonable.

Be practical.

Put that brain to good use. You know this is the only way. Deep down you know if not for kindness and mercy you shall be strung up and made an example of. Your body shall be paraded around the streets of Diagon Alley. He sees you as nothing more than Harry Potter's mudblood. But if you were mine, you would be spared.

Stop pretending, Granger. Accept that your life as you know it is over. Accept my offer. It is the best you shall recieve. I would keep you in my very bed and use your sweet cunt to lull us to sleep every night. You would want for nothing, Granger. And your desires, those deep, secret, overwhelming desires. I could relieve you of those. Help you release those aching needs, night after night.

Perhaps you worry that you're not ready. Well I assure you that both your humility and obedience shall come with time. I can help you, Granger. There are potions that can ease this process for you in the beginning. Many wives take them; dull all feelings they may have the first few years. But I know eventually you'll be content in your position.

I leave it to you. I'll not endure an ungreatful, unhappy mudblood under my roof, nor in my bed. I shall not rape you nor take you as an unwilling captive. I would rather kill you myself than force myself upon you.

You must make up your mind quickly. I shall not ask again. And tomorrow shall be too late. I hope for your sake that you accept this offer.

I have begun to make provisions for you. I spoke to Mother and Father a week ago. Even they can appreciate how wasteful your death would be. They agree that 17 is a fine age to select a paramour. You must understand that many pureblood Wizards eventually take a lover. Marry a wife for duty. Find another for love--or lust. Take some comfort that I shall certainly not be the first nor the youngest Malfoy to take a mudblood as a mistress. I've told the house elves to prepare my bedroom for two. They've knocked down the wall in my quarters to extend it. I thought you'd like a small private library and desk. A closet. I've instructed them to buy you some pretty sleep clothes. Chinese silk and luscious lace. Only the best for my precious pet. Expensive lingerie from France. They'll certainly be in better taste than your current styles. And luckily for you, you'll never actually have to learn to make a bed. You're no maid. No servant. No. You'll be the most pampered and cherished mudblood in the entire world, should you accept.

Hermione, tonight when I bring you home I'll have your virginity--take what should have always been mine. And while you may not thank me tonight, or tomorrow. One day, after I've filled you up night after night. After I've fucked you so hard that you become pregnant with my child. I know you'll thank me for my mercy and generosity. You may even grow to love me. And perhaps, in the quiet of night, when the only sounds are your soft sweet moans, I may return the sentiment.

There's only a few hours till sunset. I sincerely hope you make the right decision. It would hurt me deeply to see such beauty and intelligence go to waste, Hermione.

Your future Lord and Lover,

Draco Lucius Malfoy

......

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