#I promise the spice will flow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drivinmeinsane · 9 months

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Wild Country (Part 2)

SIERRA SIX × F!READER

Part 1

Part 2 (This one)

Part 3 (coming soon)

*Summary: Six is running on empty in more ways than one when he pulls into that gas station out west. He just wants to make sure he and Claire survive when he does the unexpected and says he'll take on the job as a ranch hand. It was a position offered rhetorically and out of frustration, but damn if he doesn't fit the bill of what you need.

*Content/tags: Slow burn, Pining, Movie canon compliant, No use of Y/N, Cowboy!Six, Adoptive Daughter!Claire, no need to have read the books

*Rating: 18+ for future mature content

*Status: Ongoing

*Author's Notes: The burn is still burning slow, but we're getting there folks.

The drive from their motel to the cattle ranch is a short enough trip, but it's an uncomfortable one. The roads are pitted gravel at best and crater pocked dirt at the worst. Any time he glances over, he can see Claire holding anything she can get her hands on. Hitting one particularly large, unavoidable rut just about knocks the air out of him and causes her to let out a yelp and grab his forearm hard enough to leave the half moon indents of her nails in his skin. He holds back the wince of discomfort.

His grip on the steering wheel loosens in silent relief when he makes the turn onto the winding driveway. They pass a couple rolling acres dotted with horses. Claire has both her hands on the window ledge now, her death grip on Six's arm forgotten as she stares out the window. He hadn't expected her to be captivated by the animals, but he supposes that it's a novel experience for her. Being the niece of a CIA handler and having a heart condition surely led to a mundane life spent locked away. Six feels a pang in his chest when he thinks about Fitz. He should be the one with Claire, not him.

The drive opens up into a dead end parking lot. On his right is a massive barn, on his left are a couple of bunkhouses, but it's straight ahead that catches his attention. You had said to park in front of the large, white house, so he does, pulling right next to a green truck that he had noticed at the gas station. The truck settles into park with the enthusiasm of a reanimated corpse finally allowed to rest again. Six pushes the door open and wrestles it closed behind him. He's greeted by a large, rust colored dog. It stands in front of him, panting expectantly. He ignores it in favor of ducking down to speak into the truck's cabin, one arm casually resting on top of the vehicle.

"Let's go find my new boss."

Claire gives him one of her skeptical looks and shoves her own door open with a dramatic sigh. He's surprised it doesn't fall off its hinges. He feels the dog's hot breath against his knees and inches around the animal to join his adoptive daughter at the tailgate.

"What's the plan? Is there even anyone here? I th-oh!" Her voice cuts off as she spots the dog. She crouches down and enthusiastically starts petting it. He supposes that the dog is pleased with the arrangement if the lolling tongue and kicking back leg are any indication.

He watches on in silence for a moment before he hears banging noises and a loud whinny from the barn. He looks in that direction and gives Claire a quiet "Hey". He makes a gesture for her to follow him when she looks up at him. The dog runs ahead of them as they crunch over the gravel before impatiently doubling back to match their speed.

───※ ·❆· ※───

You're kneeling next to one of your horses when you hear the scuff of feet and scrabbling of dog nails. You finish velcroing the sports medicine boot in place before you stand up. Your mare nudges your arm and snorts when you don't produce a treat despite having a bucket of grain with a few mouthfuls left. You absently run a hand down her face as you turn to face the people coming into your barn.

You're greeted with the sight of the gas station man and whom you presume is the daughter he had mentioned. The ranch dog is wagging his tail furiously as he stops next to the girl, pressing in close for the pets she provides him. He's clearly smitten with her.

"Come on over." You call.

The man, Six, makes piercing eye contact as he approaches. His arms are casually at his sides but there's tension in his broad shoulders. The girl is right on his heels, nearly tripping over both her dad and the dog. She's clearly nervous but there's a look of fascination on her face. Her skin is pale, almost translucent like she hasn't had much sun exposure.

Your prospective ranch hand is a formidable presence up close. He's tall enough that you have tip your head back to make eye contact. You feel a little like an insect under a magnifying glass with the way he stands over you, running analyzing eyes over your face. You brush it off and square up to him like you would to one of your cow horses. You were long since used to winning the respect of larger animals. You weren't about to squirm.

"Sierra." You say, offering your hand.

He takes it immediately, no reservations about the horse sweat and grime coating it. He says your name in the same tone you said his. His hand is warm and calloused in yours. There's strength in his grip that you can clearly feel even from such a brief clasp. You offer the same hand to the girl. She takes it. You give her a smile you didn't give her father.

"Any friend of Winston here is a friend of mine." You say brightly, gesturing down at the dog doing his best to wiggle into the middle of things.

"Must have a lot of friends then." Her response is fast. She's clever, confident through her nerves.

"Surprisingly not. You must be special." You say. "So what's your name, honey?"

"Claire."

There's a sharp intake of air from the man next to her. You cut your eyes at him. There's a flash of worry on his face that gets smoothed over so quickly you almost wondered if you imagined it. Something was off about this situation, but the girl seemed to trust the man implicitly. None of your own instincts were dreaming danger either. Strange. Winston and the mare behind you weren't agitated by his presence either.

"Well, Claire, it's nice to meet you. How about I give you two the tour and we'll go from there?"

Six gives an agreeable nod and his daughter's face lights up. You double check the quick release knot securing your horse to the tie ring. You can feel his gaze like a physical hand on your back. It takes everything in you to not involuntarily shiver under the imaginary weight. You give the black mare a pat that's more reassuring to you than to her before you turn around to meet that heavy gaze head on.

"After you." His voice is like velvet, rich and promising.

You fight down the urge to swallow thickly at the sound of his voice and begin the overview of the property.

───※ ·❆· ※───

He and Claire follow you for the better part of an hour. His eyes tend to wander more towards you than the surroundings you're explaining. There's something appraising in the way he watches you. It's nothing like the looks you've gotten from some of your other ranch hands. Their stares make your skin crawl at times, but his... well, it has you wanting to crawl in an entirely different way.

"How many others are there?"

The question catches you off guard. The three of you are standing in front of the bunkhouse you told him he would be staying in. He's been so silent throughout the tour that you had nearly forgotten what he sounds like.

"There's three. Dallas, Jimmy, and Charles. We had four, but one of them decided to light out about a week ago."

"Why did he leave?"

"Conflict of interests." There's more steel in your voice than you intended, but Six gives an accepting nod and changes the topic.

"What about my daughter?"

"Oh! Right, yes. She'll be staying in the main house with me and Suzanne, the property owner. Claire's a minor and not under contract so I don't want to toss her in with you and the other men. If that's alright with you?"

"Good." His tone is warm. "She has a pacemaker. I worry about her. Having her safe is my priority." He has a softer presence when he speaks about Claire.

"Good dad. I'll introduce you after I put you through your test. As long as you find everything suitable, I'd like to see how you are on a horse."

He agrees, and your small party tramps back over to the barn to where you left your horse waiting patiently. She rumbles when she sees you cross the threshold. Claire's interest is at its peak and she's nearly vibrating.

"Here." You say, pulling a treat out of your pocket. You press it into her hand. "Show her your empty hand and then close your fingers and offer it to her to sniff. If she bumps it with her nose, you can pet her."

She follows your directions to the letter and is soon petting the animal. You beckon her father over closer and step out of the way to give them room to interact with the mare. He's got such a tender look on his face while looking at his daughter that your breath catches for a moment.

"Claire, if you hold your hand out flat and under her nose, she'll take that treat from you now that you've gotten acquainted." Your tone is casual and you avoid looking at the man's face again

"Oh!" She laughs a bit as the horse's whisker's skim over her palm.

"Her name is Belladonna. Sierra, she'll be the horse I test you out on. If everything goes well, the two of you will be partners during the term of your contract."

He nods and that's that. You quickly swap the mare's halter for her bridle and then you and Claire are soon leaning against the indoor area railing watching Six swing a leg over the Quarter Horse's back and settle into the saddle. He rides well enough. You watch him as he urges Belladonna to a walk. His hands are gentle on the reins and he's well balanced in the saddle. He's definitely not spent long hours and days mounted, but he's not the worst you've ever seen ride. Some of your own ranch hands have been hired with a worse seat.

"Bring her to a jog and have her circle those cones." You call to him.

He raises a hand in acknowledgment and clicks to the horse. She tosses her head in excitement and gives a little cowhop. There's barely any movement or surprise from her rider, he's got a natural grace to him that automatically shifts and sways to accommodate the mare's movements. He does what you ask of him and before long you're calling him back over to dismount. His feet barely hit the ground before you're pulling the folded contract out of your shirt pocket. He turns to face you and the two of you both start speaking.

"Are you ready to-"

"I'm not too exper-"

There's a brief silence only accompanied by Belladonna's swishing tail and Winston panting happily as Claire scratches between his ears.

"You go first." Six says, encouragement in his tone.

You take a breath. "If everything is suitable to you, I would like to take you on for the season. I've got the contract right here if you would like to look it over and sign it." You hold you the paper and a pen out to him. He takes both with steady hands.

"He doesn't know how to read." Comes Claire's earnest voice.

Both you and her dad look over to see her face dripping with sincerity. He shakes his head somberly. "Don't tell all my secrets."

You have to stifle a laugh at the two of them. The man quickly scans his blue, blue eyes along the words on the page. He quickly scrawls his signature at the bottom of the page before handing the signed page and the pen back to you.

"I'm yours now."

It sounds like a promise.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Dinner is a singlesidedly noisy affair. The old woman started fussing over the father and daughter from the second you introduced them to her. She doesn't allow for any lulls in the conversation and it really starts to feels like a hostage situation. Six finally begs off with the excuse that Claire needs to go to bed. You spring at the chance to escape and show them to the bedroom that the teen will be staying in.

"If there's anything you need, just let me know." You say before wishing Claire goodnight and going back down the stairs to give them some privacy.

You need to do the dinner cleanup anyway. This old house never got updated with a dishwasher. Suzanne passes you in the kitchen with her eyebrows raised and an amused look on her face. You ignore her pointed look towards the stairs where you can both hear the muffled voice of the man you just hired. You don't want to talk about his presence. You have never let any of the other ranch hands further than the front porch, much less invited them to dinner. Granted, none of the other hands have had a child with them.

You're in the middle of rinsing off a plate when an arm reaches around you to grab the dish towel hanging by the sink. You stare for a second, taking in the rolled up sleeve and flex of his muscles underneath his tattooed skin. You can feel the heat of him against your back and your mouth goes dry. He gently takes the plate from your hands when you go to set it aside and dries it off. The two of you work in comfortable silence only accented by the sounds of water and clink of dishes. You wash and he dries. You savor the glimpses you get of his hands and his strong forearms. His hands are scarred and calloused but the way he uses his fingers is delicate. His pace is unhurried, steady. You sneak a glance at his face and it's relaxed.

Finally, when he's drying the final dish and you've pulled the plug in the sink, you turn to him. There's a breathless moment where the two of you simply look at eachother. Neither of you speak as you show him to the front door. There's a pause on the threshold, and you can visibly see him struggle with himself on what to say. You wait patiently.

"Goodnight." It's low, intimate in the glow of the porch light.

You smile at him for the first time. He doesn't return it but there's a softer curve to his lips when you do.

"Goodnight, Sierra." Your voice comes out quieter, more tender than you had meant. You flush. You hope he can't notice.

He nods, a slow include of his head, and steps out of the doorway and turns to go down the porch steps. You close the door behind him and let out a shaky breath. He is all but a complete stranger. There is no reasonable explanation for you to respond to him the way that you have been since he showed up on the property. Or, if you're being honest with yourself, since you spotted him at the gas station.

He had clearly stuck out as an outsider. A little sweaty and worn. There was pained exhaustion written in the lines of his body and despite your anger over the situation involving your deserting ranch hand, your eye was drawn to him. You watched him analyze his surroundings with a practiced eye and saw his sleight of hand. A desperate man.

You made sure to raise your voice when he came to the register. He focused in on you and your heart lept in your throat when he said he'd do the job. His gaze had been so intense, so hopeful. When he mentioned that he had a daughter, your mind was made up.

You know that you are just going to have faith in him. Somehow he doesn't seem like the kind of man who would fall short.

N E X T.

#sierra six #the gray man #sierra six x reader #self insert #my work #my posts #this entire part had me on the struggle bus #I promise the spice will flow #did my brain short circut and name the dog after one in hannibal? maybe so #Belladonna the horse is based on the one with Ryan Gosling in the GQ photoshoot #ryan gosling character

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msgexymunson · 5 months

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The Code

Description: Your very first day at your new school and you've already managed to find a dealer. Not only that, but he is fine. Maybe living with your mom might not be too bad after all.

Warnings: Making out, fingering, male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex

A/N: I just wanted some desperate, clingy ‘I need you’ sex so here we are. I loved writing this so much I think this is going to end up in a whole universe just about these two.

6.2k words

Masterlist

This must be the spot.

You walk out into the little clearing in the woods. It's private, encircled by trees, with a picnic bench right in the middle. As you wonder who the hell put it there, you take in the quiet. It's bizarre; a minute ago you were surrounded by loudmouth jocks and giggling girls, sneakers squeaking and lockers slamming, but here? Silence, except for the twittering of birds and whispering wind in the trees.

Perching on the slightly mildewed table top, you dump your bag and jacket on the seat, crossing your legs and picking your fingernails to pass the time.

A rustle of leaves makes you snap your head up, and you see who must be the most gorgeous guy at this school. Tall, long hair, a narrow little waist you want to wrap your legs around, and judging by his clothes, he's a metalhead too.

“Hey, you leave me a note?”

He looks around nervously, circling the table before walking over to you.

“Yeah, you OK?”

He smiles, and you rethink your previous statement. He must be the most gorgeous guy in this whole town. Such a pretty mouth.

“Sorry, it's just last time I got an anonymous note in my locker I got jumped by four jocks.”

“Oh, well you know what they say, when a boy bullies you they really just have a crush on you.”

He laughs, tipping his head back.

“Well these guys must want my fuckin’ babies or some shit!”

Giggling, you look down, covering your mouth girlishly. Eddie takes the small opportunity to check you out. You look like you've wandered in from a dream. A very wet dream. Little black Mary Janes on your feet, thigh high white socks, and a black and white plaid skirt. The strip of thigh on show is making his pants tighter by the minute. The white t-shirt is a work of art; it seems so innocent, but it's tight enough to accentuate your obvious curves, and the outline of a black bra is peeking through the thin material. He's sure it's purposeful; who wears black under white and doesn't think about it showing?

You clear your throat and his eyes flick upward to your face guiltily. Not saying anything, you let your little smug smile and raised brow do the talking for you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun.

After a few seconds of letting him squirm, mostly to see the blush flowing to his cheeks, you give him your name and explain.

“I'm new here, some girl told me you're the one to go to for weed. Eddie, right?”

“Guilty as charged,” he replies, bowing at you. Rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with one finger. His grin widens as he stands right in front of you, eyes darting to your lips and back up.

“So, you got something for me?”

Eddie plants his hands either side of you on the table, close enough to smell your perfume. It's heady, laden with spice and promise, not the sweet scent he expected. That just intrigues him even more.

Your heads spinning from him crowding your space. His eyes are otherworldly, deep brown, full of such depth and soul that it takes a moment for you to remember to breathe.

“For you? Of course.”

He winks, he fucking winks, sending a swarm of insects in a whirlwind in your stomach, then sits down at the bench, slamming a battered tin lunchbox down. He gestures at the seat in front but you swivel on the table to face him, legs crossed an inch or so away from his hand.

“So, I'll do you a half ounce for… twenty. Cool?”

He wags a baggy at you and you make a pass for it, but he holds it at arm's length.

“Twenty?”

Huffing dramatically, you lean far back to grab your bag from the opposite bench. Eddie holds an arm out, one thrown over his eyes.

“Cover your, er, modesty sweetheart.”

You realise he means your skirt that had ridden high on your thighs, exposing a triangle of your panties. It was only for a moment, but he saw. He thinks it'll be ingrained on the inside of his eyelids, burned into the back of his brain forever. They're baby pink, yet another surprise. You seem to be full of them.

“Such a gentleman.”

Plopping your bag in your lap, you rummage through it to find a note. Eddie's eyes widen yet again. Your little denim backpack is covered in patches; Megadeath, Anthrax, Saxon. Just when he thinks he's got you figured out, you throw another curveball at him.

“Here, twenty.”

He takes it and exchanges it for the bag in his hands. Squirrelling it away, you smile.

“Thank you. Fancy a smoke?”

“Sure, why not.”

You move to get your newest purchase out again but he waves a hand.

“This one's on me sweetheart. For the er, pleasure of your company.”

“Well, aren't I lucky.” Smirking at him, revelling in the pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks, you watch whilst he rolls.

“So, you're new? When did you start?”

“Today. Moving in with my mom and my brother for a little while whilst my dad cools off.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, licking the paper with a pointed precise tongue.

“Yeah. I got suspended, he freaked. Mom wanted her little girl back, so here I am.”

“Oh really? What did you do?”

You bite your lip as he passes you the lit joint, and take a couple of hits.

“What didn't I do?”

He laughs loudly with you, eyes darting to your chest as it jiggles. Fuck, he's already down bad.

You make some chit chat, surface level stuff, but it shows you just how easy he is to talk to. He's confident, bordering cocky, but it's belied by the way your flirtatious comments make him blush.

The joint is long gone. Eddie stands up, getting ready to leave. You want him to stay, you need him to, just a little longer. It emboldens you, enough to make a move.

“Eddie, what's your policy on kissing clients?”

He's mid standing when your question gets through to his brain, entirely short circuiting it for a second.

“Huh?”

“I said,” you beckon, and Eddie's legs move on their own accord, “what's your policy on kissing clients?”

He's grinning then, standing in front of you by the edge of the table. As you uncross your legs, his smile only widens, slotting his narrow hips between your thighs. You take one of his hands in yours, examining his rings, before you place it gently on your leg, silently giving him permission to touch you.

Eddie feels dazed, half expecting someone to jump from the bushes with a camera, declaring this all some elaborate prank. The bare skin of your thigh is so soft, silky smooth. His fingers dance just underneath the hem of your skirt, testing the waters, but you let him. You let him.

“My policy? It probably goes against the Holy drug dealers code.” He shakes his head sadly, but he's still smiling, and still not pulling away.

“Drug dealer code? What like, don't get high on your own supply?” You respond cheekily, nodding at the butt of the joint stubbed out on the table.

Your hands snake around his neck autonomously, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves infinitesimally closer, head bending a little.

“Yeah, like that. But the thing is,” he says as he moves even closer, whispering, “it's more like… guidelines.”

“Yeah?”

It's all you can manage out, breathy and weak, practically quivering at his closeness.

His nose rubs against the side of yours, mouths almost brushing, as he whispers again, even more quietly, the breath of it diffusing over your parted lips.

“It's a good thing I like to break the rules.”

Then his lips are crushed against yours, your strawberry lip balm surrendering itself, finding a new home on his full lips. Your tongue licks into his mouth thickly, laced with want. Eddie responds, exploring your mouth as the kiss turns dirtier by the second. Your chest is smashed against his, thighs gripping onto his hips.

Eddie's head is reeling at the taste of you and the feel of your body desperately pressed against him. He winds his hand under your skirt to grab your perfect round ass, jamming you even closer. To his delight you moan in his mouth, lips sliding against his, slicked in spit.

Your heart is thumping so loudly you can feel it in your throat. Or is it his? It doesn't matter, the kiss tearing any rational thoughts away. Snaking an arm around him to dig painted nails into his back, you roll your hips into him, an ache settling into your bones.

The other of Eddie's rough hands travels audaciously to your chest, palming it over your clothes. You don't pull away, in fact your back is arching, searching for more.

It's only then that he notices the time on his watch.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking in the way your chest heaves, how your eyes are half lidded, as if you want to devour him whole.

“Fuck, I'm sorry but I'm late, I really gotta go.”

Huffing, you pout, and the plumpness of your bottom lip almost makes him say fuck it, screw Hellfire, but he knows he can't.

“I really, really don't want to go, for the record. Last thing I want to do is walk back into school with a hard on right now.”

You giggle breathlessly, risking a little look down. He's not lying. And he is packing.

“Do you wanna come to mine later?”

It's out of your mouth before you even think of the words, tongue working of its own accord.

“Are you- for real?”

You nod comically fast. He just shakes his head, stunned.

“You know, I'm waiting for a Carrie moment or some shit.”

“Eddie, I'm not gonna dump a bucket of pig's blood on you, I swear.”

“Swear? On what?”

“On, I dunno, on that code thing?”

He laughs, hands rubbing up and down your sides as if he doesn't want to let you go.

“You can't swear on that, we just broke it!”

“Alright then, scouts honour?”

“You were a girl scout?”

“No.”

He laughs again as you purse your lips, deep in thought. Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you hold your hand to your heart, the other forming the devil's horn sign.

“I swear on Ozzy.”

Fuck, Eddie thinks he must have made you in a lab.

“Alright, alright, you best not be using his name in vain.”

You rummage in your bag, grabbing a scrap of paper and scrawling an address on it.

“Here. My er, my mom's out for the weekend and my dweeb brothers got some silly club thing then he's staying at a friend's, so…”

Eddie's eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. If this is just some fantasy and he's finally lost it, then he can deal with that.

“Right, I will be there. I promise. Wild fuckin’ horses couldn't drag me away.”

You scrunch the paper into his waiting hand, and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he's apologising again, having to run back to school before the guys send a search party.

********************

He only gets a chance to look at your hastily written note when Hellfires finished, a hell of a lot quicker than his usual sessions. The guys are put out, complaining about only managing to go for a supply run and deal with some bandits, but for once he doesn't give a shit.

In his van, he's reading and rereading your note. Maybe he's got it wrong, your messy handwriting is difficult to read after all. Or maybe he was right before and this is all some joke at his expense.

Hope is what gets him there, that and the traces of strawberry lip balm that still linger on his lips. He pulls up to the house and knocks on the door.

You answer, still in your clothes from earlier, though Eddie notices immediately that you've taken off your bra. It throws him for a moment, the shape of your nipples singing a melody directly to his dick, but he recovers.

“You live… here?” He asks, completely surprised.

“Yes?” The way he says it you almost question if you're the one in the wrong house.

“And your last name is…?”

“Henderson.”

“Fuck.” He laughs it out, biting his lip.

“Is that a problem?” You're entirely thrown by his reaction, but gesture at him to come in, closing the door behind him.

“Dustin’s your little brother.” He says it like a known fact.

“How do you know Dust for Brains? Wait-”

You step backwards, both hands held to your mouth in shock.

“You're Eddie?? The Eddie??”

“The one and only, sweetheart.”

“Shit, Dustin does not shut up about you. I thought, well I thought you'd be some nerdy, awkward loser.”

“Well, I'm a lot of things.”

Laughs erupt from you in an unstoppable volcano.

“Dustins gonna kill me.”

Eddie shakes his head.

“No, Dustins gonna kill me. How come he's never mentioned you?”

“He's not exactly my biggest fan. Plus, he probably wanted to avoid- this.”

Eddie deflates a little, the hope of kissing you again dwindling by the second.

“If you want me to go-”

“Oh hell no,” you grab his hand, keeping him there with you, “this is hilarious, he's gonna freak. I can't wait. You wanna drink, or something to eat? Or we can just-”

“Wait, you seriously don't care?”

“Nope. You're too hot.”

Eddie blushes, not used to girls being so brazen with him. Smiling, you tell him to take a seat and grab some beers from the fridge. He takes his jacket off and throws it on a chair. When you return, you're laughing yet again as you hand him his beer.

“How the hell did I miss that?” You point. He follows your eyes, to the Hellfire t-shirt he's wearing.

“Too busy staring at my pretty face?” He suggests, winking at you.

Settling down next to him, you flick the TV on to some random b movie. Nonchalantly, you place a hand on his knee, stroking the little bare patch of skin as you look at the film playing.

“Maybe I was too busy thinking about what's underneath it.”

You say it offhand, a casual statement, but it's got Eddie nearly choking on his mouthful of beer.

“Shit you are nothing like your brother, are you?”

Turning to smirk at him, you respond, “I fucking well hope so.”

Then Eddie's thoughts fly straight out the window when your hand lands on his chest, nails raking him through the fabric. Suddenly, the temperature of the room is stifling, or is it just the feel of your body against his? He reaches tentatively to cup your cheek, rubbing a calloused thumb on your chin, eyes boring into yours for confirmation. Breath hitches in your throat; you lean in closer, gaze flickering to his perfect mouth and back up.

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me, Eddie?”

You smirk, but it's wiped from your face immediately by his mouth smashing into yours. It's so forceful you have to fight to keep upright, hand fisting into his shirt as some sort of anchor.

As you pull away, his eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong. He looks like a little puppy.

“Easy Eddie, we've got all night.”

All night? Eddie has decided that he must have got hit on the head today. Maybe he was jumped after all, and now he's in a coma, playing out some elaborate fantasy.

He settles back into the cushions, swigging his beer and failing to focus on the movie playing, his leg restlessly bouncing.

You look perfectly at ease, knees curled up on the seat. What he doesn't know is that your heart is pumping blood so fast that you're starting to feel a little dizzy from it, purposefully slowing your breath to keep your calm.

Once your beer is finished you've decided that enough is enough. A part of you wanted to take this slow; he seemed like such a nice guy, as well as being into your kind of music, and hot as sin. Unfortunately, it seems your pussy has other ideas, already banging its own heartbeat like a dinner bell.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He tries to make it sound casual, but he's wound so tight it's almost a strangled noise. Nursing a semi since he saw you in the woods earlier, now it's straining against his jeans in a futile attempt to be near you.

He looks so damn nervous, and it gives you the confidence you need to swing your leg over his and straddle him. Eager hands land immediately on your hips, thumbs pressing hard to keep you there.

This time, you lean in. Your kiss is fire, tongue burning hot and heavy in his mouth. Eddie groans into the kiss, rolling desperation from his mouth to yours. He's breathing so hard it's whistling through his nose, clouding your cheek with condensation.

It almost feels like a competition, both tongues duelling, determined to unravel the other. Lips swollen and blood filled, your mouth tries to keep up with his, spit gathering at the edges. You'd be self conscious about it if you weren't so damn turned on.

Eddie's hands roam all over, grasping at your ass under your skirt, slipping inside the thin material of your panties at the back, until he runs a thumb just next to your underwear but this time dangerously close to your sex. You moan onto his tongue, your own hands winding into his hair, pulling harshly to spur him on.

He can't concentrate on the hard tingle your fingers cause to run all over his scalp, not when slips his fingers past the cotton barrier and he runs them up and down your slippery slit. Mind entirely encased in a pink fog of lust, you realise your mumbling in his mouth.

“Please, please, please-”

The corners of his mouth turn up at the sound, thumb seeking out your clit to rub circles on and around it, your arousal causing it to slip and slide. You're dizzy, hot all over, pussy aching for something inside.

Eddie's obsessed with the feel of you, the heat emanating from your cunt, but most of all with the sounds you make. They'd be pornographic, if they weren't so fucking real. Needy, hoarse moans, peppered with little gasps and whimpers that are making his cock twitch with each slip of his thumb.

Gliding a finger inside, he watches as your head rolls back, a strangled groan falling from your kiss bitten lips. You're practically riding his hand, bouncing your tits so close to his face that he's in a trance. As if you can hear his prayers, you pull your shirt off, fighting with the tight material until you can shake it off your arm.

He sees the glimpse of a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a dagger directly in your cleavage, which he momentarily thinks is really hot, but then he's gone. Your bare chest is a masterpiece, perfect tits jostling with each bounce of your thighs. He latches his mouth to a nipple, tonguing and sucking on it like he needs it to breathe. In fact he almost forgets to, pulling his mouth off to take a gasping breath and latch onto the other.

He drags his mouth away when he feels you tightening impossibly hard around his fingers and leans back just in time to see the show. Your climax is violent, grinding into his fingers hard and rough until suddenly you're screaming his name, nails breaking the skin of his neck as you cling on for dear life. Your release engulfs your body in a flash of fire, singeing each nerve and causing you to convulse in his grip. Eddie can barely move, his fingers straining hard to work you through your orgasm, so much so that the tendons of his arm hurt, but he doesn't care. He keeps on curling them until you physically grab his arm to still him.

His dripping fingers are released with a sucking sound as he grins at you smugly. Not for long though, not with your chest heaving like that and the way you're biting your lip. You yank at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and relishing in the exposed skin by lathing your tongue over his collar bone.

“Nice tats.” You breathe onto his skin between sucks and nips.

“Same to you,” he stumbles out in a gasp as a particular sharp bite to his neck shoots a lightning bolt of heat down his spine.

“You haven't seen all of them,” you reply, nibbling at his earlobe.

He's never wanted to hunt for tattoos more in his whole life.

“Fuck, you are a dream.”

His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, grinding down on his rock hard bulge. Enveloping his lips in another urgent kiss, and another, until you can break away long enough for one word.

“Bedroom?”

“Jesus fucking Christ yes.”

He stands, still holding you, knocking a beer bottle to the floor. You cling to him with your legs as he walks backwards, sending a table lamp flying in the process. It's inconsequential; your head is fighting through a cloud of need, nothing can find its way through but touch and taste.

In the hallway, he slams your back into the wall, pressing you hard against it as he writhes his tongue in your mouth again. A picture frame falls, you just about hear the tinkling of glass but it's not important. That's tomorrow's problem.

Unhooking yourself from his clutches for a moment, you drag him by the front of his jeans and yank him into a doorway, gasping for breath, grasping at flesh. You practically punch the lightswitch to turn it on, the thought that you need to see him just about making it through the horny mist. Once inside he barely has a chance to take in his surroundings before you're falling to your knees and undoing his belt with impatient fingers.

“Woah, baby, you don't need to-”

“Shut the fuck up Eddie I wanna blow you.”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and then compulsively strokes his neck just to keep some composure. If he thinks about your words for a second longer he's sure he'll bust right in his pants.

You work his fly and pull his jeans and boxers down swiftly, his turgid cock flying free and whacking his stomach, decorating it with a pearl of precum. It feels heavy in your hands as you rub him up and down, watching the soft skin move with each pass, like silk wrapped around a steel bar.

Taking him into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around his head, licking up its salty sweetness, sucking lightly. Eddie groans, torn between covering his eyes and holding you in place, so he does a bit of both, until you start taking him deeper and deeper without gagging.

His eyes snap open to see you staring straight at him, nose nestling in his coarse pubic hair, eyes wide and wet and innocent, mouth stretched full of him, and he feels his balls tighten.

“Fuck stop stop, please.”

He practically bends in half to get you off of his dick. Giving him a smug smile of your own, you delicately wipe the spit gathered at the corners of your mouth with a thumb.

“You OK there champ?”

“You are gonna kill me sweetheart.”

He's heaving, trying to control his breath, eyes darting from your face, to your bare chest and back up. Standing up, you unzip your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you in your tiny pink underwear with a very noticeable wet patch, and your thigh high socks. There's another tattoo hiding just out of sight, playing peekaboo over the top of your panties.

Something about seeing you so innocent and yet so naughty flicks a switch in his brain. Before he can think he's pushing you backwards and you hit the mattress behind with a thud, legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

Which is fucking perfect in Eddie's opinion because he needs to taste you right now otherwise he might die.

You both fight to take your underwear off, but he covers your hand in his own when you start rolling your socks down.

“No. Leave them on.”

It's husky and dominant, a steely look behind those soft brown eyes you haven't seen yet. Well. Filing that away for reference. You lay there sweetly, propped up on your elbows to watch as his tongue squirms against you, making out with your cunt just as passionately as he kissed you.

He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks and for a moment you can see God.

“Holy fuck! Eddie!” He groans back, lost in the taste of your cunt. He wants to write a poem about it, a song, a fucking haiku, anything to immortalise the prettiest pussy with the sweetest flavour.

“Eddie, get up here!” He's not listening, licking and sucking, almost getting as much pleasure as you are, but you need him inside you right now before you combust; you're sure of it.

In the end you grab a chunk of his hair and pull him upward, sliding him over your trembling body, and you hold his face an inch from yours.

“Eddie, I need you to fuck me, now.”

His leaking tip is rubbing against your swollen clit; he takes it in his hand to line it up, when somewhere out of the pussy drunk haze he remembers something important.

“Do you have protection?”

“I'm on the pill, is that-”

It clearly is OK. It's possibly the best four words Eddie's ever heard.

Your unfinished sentence morphs into a drawn out moan as Eddie pushes inside you, stretching you out until he's fully sheathed. As you whimper and whine at the feeling, Eddie stops, just for a moment, to hold your cheek and press a soft kiss to your lips.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

For some reason that takes you entirely by surprise, eyes wide and wet at his honesty.

“Yeah? You're really handsome, Eddie.”

The smile he shoots you is warm and genuine, lighting up that animate face of his with an inner glow. You roll your hips upward and take joy in the fact that he wasn't expecting it, eyebrows knitting in shock as a litany of swear words spill from his mouth.

Your smirk is short lived when he hikes your leg around his waist and starts thrusting devastatingly deep, so deep it's like he's in your guts trying to root out the source of the burning desire at the pit of your stomach.

“Holy- oh God, Eddie!”

Moaning loudly, you press hot, cushy kisses to him between your stream of noises, forehead resting on his. Eddie's smiling, he can't help it. Just the joy of being with you like this, the feel of you losing it because of him, and the tightness of your pretty cunt have him in paradise.

“Feels- feels so- oh fuck- so good, inside you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ tight, I-I can feel you shaking, you close?”

Words escape you. All you can do is cling to his back and nod, nails clawing into him with shivering intensity. Eddie thrusts into you harder; all you can do is cling on for your life, arms and legs nearly suffocating him. The telltale tingle of your release is nearly burning your skin, prickling over each downy hair making it stand on end.

The heat is immense, tension gripping your legs as you quake, and writhe, and whimper, until your climax flies out of you, shooting out of every pore and forcing tears from your eyes. Your vision turns bright white for a moment, until all the tension leaves your muscles and you flop back on the bed.

Eddie doesn't understand how you keep on getting hotter, but it doesn't matter. You let him inside of you, raw, and his head is still reeling from that. Each little sound, each flex of your constricting walls is pushing him to ecstasy; in fact he's staving it off so he can enjoy you like this for a little while longer.

Getting up on his knees, he pulls you toward him by your thighs, guiding you to roll your hips as he pumps into you. This angle is so much better; he can see all of your incredible body laid out before him, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your small hand finds his forearm, just holding it lightly, as you whine.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

It's high pitched, mumbled and nearly incoherent. He's not even sure you know you're doing it, but it's what pushes him over the edge. He feels the tightness in his balls as his length grows impossibly hard.

“Sweetheart, where-” He manages through gritted teeth.

“Please cum in me.”

Eddie's four new favourite words. He grips hard to your thighs, hard enough to bruise, as he groans and swears his release out. You feel it deep inside, throbbing out of him, when he finally collapses forward. You hold onto each other, tongues rolling into each other's mouths, kissing and kissing and kissing. You kiss until it hurts, until your mouth is chapped and sore, until you need air, and water.

“Fuck, Eddie, that was… sorry, if I er, came on a bit, strong?”

Eddie just laughs, pressing his body as tightly against yours as he can.

“Please don't ever apologise for wanting to fuck my brains out.”

You laugh, kissing his cheek.

“When you put it like that, fair enough. Right, get off me, I need to clean up.”

“I can take care of you-”

“Yeah, and I'm a grown woman who needs to piss, so please?”

You roll your wrists, flinging your hands in desperate circles. He surrenders, pulling off you and rolling onto his back, more than happy to watch your naked form sway out of the room.

Eddie does a little wiggle dance when you leave the room, punching the air with glee. He starts looking at your room, since he had no time to see it earlier. There's a tin on the bedside table that looks remarkably similar to what he has at home, and an honest to goodness lava lamp next to it. Unable to help himself, he flicks it on at the plug, waiting for it to warm up.

“Sweetheart, you mind if I roll?” He calls out.

“Sure, my shits on the side table, just light the incense on the dresser.”

Eddie seeks his boxers out and puts them on for his modesty, though it seems you may be a little, lacking, in that department. Not that he's complaining, far from it. He's obsessed with your demeanour, your confidence.

Once the incense is lit, he rolls a joint, fussing over it to make sure it's perfect for you. Just as he pulls the little twisted paper end off, you walk back in.

You'd taken the time to go to the restroom, clean yourself up, and find his t-shirt that was abandoned in the TV room. The hellfire logo is tight across your chest, the shirt barely covering your sex where you stand. The smile you shoot to him is absolutely smothered in sin.

“That's, fuck, you do not play fair, sweetheart.”

Eyes wide, eyebrows round and innocent, your mouth falls into a perfect o.

“I have no idea what you're talking about baby.”

Eddie can't speak. If he does, he'll give everything away. How wonderful you are, how that tightrope of dirty and sweet that you walk with ease twists his insides up. How he never wants to go home.

Instead, he passes the unlit smoke to you, and holds out his zippo like a sacrificial offering. You sit side saddle on the bed, knees together, barely covering your throbbing core, as you take the rolled joint gratefully and spark it. Once you've had a few tokes you pass it back.

“So, this was…” He widely gestures his arm, like it can encompass everything he's felt over the last few hours.

“You wanna leave, Eddie?” You ask. A genuine question, cocking your head to the side, as he takes a few pulls of the smoke and hands it back.

“I thought, well, I thought you'd want me to go.”

“Eddie, I said we had all night. If you're done with me then-”

“Oh, oh fuck no, I thought you'd be done with me!”

You giggle and climb into his lap as he grasps at the flesh of your ass desperately.

“Then stay. Stay with me.”

Your mouth presses kisses to his jaw as your hand winds itself into his boxers, seeking out his hardening length. Eddie hisses through his teeth.

“Fuck, I'll stay, as long as you fuckin’ want, w-whatever you want, Holy shit!”

Laughing, you puff on the smoke with one hand, and tease him relentlessly with the other.

For the second, third, or maybe even fourth time today, he's thinking he's in way over his head, but he can't find it in him to care.

********************

Eddie blinks hard, squishing his eyes shut, then opens them again. Nothing has changed. There's still an unfamiliar fabric hanging on the ceiling in front of him; some rainbow tie dye mural with a painted mariguana leaf in the middle of it that he's never seen before. When he turns his head, he sees a lava lamp, still on, running bubbles of fake lava up it too loose and fast, and then he remembers.

Flicking the switch to stop the lamp's heat, he turns over to see you. You're snuggled into the crook of your own elbow, face perfectly at ease. Your pretty mouth has the hint of a pout to it, daring him to plant a kiss.

He wants to do something for you. Anything. Right now, he'd throw a parade, organise a concert to sing to your cunt, hold a benefit to make you believe how hard he's fallen for the colour of your eyes, but maybe making you a coffee in bed will do.

So he wiggles out of bed in his boxers, and puts his jeans on for good measure in case your mom decides this is a good moment to turn up, and starts busying himself with the kitchen appliances. There's an ancient coffee maker that shakes and sputters to life. Whilst that is going on, he takes a slug of milk out of the carton in the fridge.

That is, until he sees Dustin from the side of his eye.

Dustin looks very confused. His eyes trail from the messed up couch cushions, to the beer bottles on the floor, the out of place lamp, and the broken picture frame, and finally land on Eddie, still bemused and befuddled.

“Eddie… did you… break into my house?”

Dustin clearly doesn't believe his own conclusion as his eyes scout across the available options and still come up empty.

“Sup, Dust Buster!”

Dustin swivels to see you exit your new bedroom, still wearing Eddie's hellfire t-shirt and a pair of panties. You perch nonchalantly on the kitchen side as Eddie grins, making his way between your knees.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Eddie!”

“Henderson, honest, I didn't know until-”

“Until you were in my fucking house???”

“OK fair, but it was a bit… late then. Sorry dude.”

‘Sorry? What about the code?” Come on, she's my sister! And you!” He says, pointing at you accusingly, “you were in school for one day. One! Then you sleep with the one guy I look up to!”

“The codes, more like… guidelines. Don't shit your pants, you've still got Harrington, Jeez.”

“Well, you shouldn't be such a- a scarlet woman! A hussy!”

Uncaring, you shake your head back and away, laughing at the names. Eddie, however, is not having any of it.

“Hey, Henderson, you better show your sister some respect.”

“Yeah? Or what?” He dares, forgetting who he's talking to.

“I might be fucking your sister, but I'm still your DM. You want your green adventurers running into Tiamat next session?”

The way he curves his lips, the confident stance he's giving, it stirs tiny fires in your gut and dares unthought of kinks to come out and play.

“Alright, alright, don't TPK us, I'm leaving, alright?”

Dustin turns on his heel. Before he disappears entirely, you make out the start of him begging, ‘Lucas, do you copy, I have a Code Red! Repeat! Code Red!”

“so, what now, Dungeon Master?”

“Mmph,” Eddie sounds out, low in his throat, “ whatever you want, scarlet woman.”

Taglist- If you want to be added or removed, please PM me!

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @joejoequinnquinn

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x reader #switch!eddie #switch!eddie x switch!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x female reader #eddie x fem reader #eddie x fem!reader

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qvrcll · 8 months

Text

the little things they do — luffy, zoro, nami, usopp & sanji.

summary: what do they do that makes you tick? that makes your heart glide through your chest and fester at your throat? that makes you glissade through hell itself, for the pleasure that it brings?

warnings: slight tension but no nsfw, fluff, nothing too bad!

notes: i started binge watching op / opla recently and decided to give i a go at writing for them! literally could not stop my fingers from typing this out. i’m a little new to op, so i hope you enjoy nonetheless :-] i promise im working on another part of college melodrama! i just wanted to try something new to get the brain juices flowing <3

sanji — moves you by your waist

sanji is keen with his women, but with you, he’s even more so. he’s gentle with it, even if he doesn’t need to be, because you make him aberrantly nervous, yet vilely confident in his etiquette — and today just cements it. it’s a boring day, and that prompts you to keep yourself stationed in the kitchen, where the rest of the straw hats find their own circles to situate themselves in (pure boredom, much to sanji’s dismay). the space is overcrowding and you’re halfway into disputing something that luffy insists is true fact, when sanji’s mellow palms come to gripe gently, carefully, at your waist — “excuse me, beautiful,” he mouths, fiendish and close to tasting his teeth in a marvellous grin as he effortlessly moves you, gingerly in so many ways, so he can reach the cabinet. you stutter out some convoluted version of a yes, o-of course! … safe to say, you can barely pay much consideration to luffy’s rebuttal as the tepedity of the cook’s hands lay in repetitive, illusive strokes against your hips for more times than one to just consider it an act to retrieve spices from a cabinet.

zoro — has one hand in your back pocket

he’s silent, mischievous with his antics. the upper part of your brain warns you of his skepticism, his cruelly hard body, his thick cheek. but your heart buds violently under what you can only assume is his effect. and it’s only furthered, when you are too close to him for comfort in this mini-party the crew has going on atop the going merry. you spot him nodding off in the corner of your eye, barely even knowing of his current footing in his chair as he slumps off. you urge him to go to bed, to ditch the drinks and gain a full night’s rest. but he shakes his head stiffly, his rather large hand slinking into the back pocket of your pants, where it lays dormant and so, so close to squeezing. “stay. this way, i won’t lose you.” you fail to yelp, because every nerve has been short-wired. twisted. re-twisted. re-wired. you can only stand close, fluxing against the warmth of his palm in your back pocket, as the faintest of reds colour his cheeks. a smile is welcome.

luffy — hugs your waist

being a captain is luffy’s share of the burden that comes with his quest of finding the one piece. he swears its easier than he allows it, but his body is different on days like these. days when he’s laying, tired and inaccessible to his usual bouts of energy. days like these, you can’t navigate around his lethargy, that comes slow and unmoving, similar to his resolve. his arms are around you, tight and interlocking further like a snake, his face buried against your stomach as he uses you as a stationary pillow. and you try to remind him that there are things you need to resume, things you need to conduct on the going merry, but when you turn to move, excuse yourself, he tightens, and his nose brushes against the sensitive skin beneath your button up in a nimble attempt to get you to stay still. “mmm… five—no, ten more minutes… i promise.”

nami — rests her head in the crook of your neck

it’s not an easy job sorting the day’s itinerary into tidy, little boxes and shelves, whilst the boat rocks to a cathartic beat around you. nami is here, to help you, but you are unable to shake off the tension wearing you down. your skin feels like paper and the bottom side of your shoes are sticky with sea water and your hands feel like rubber. you could rival luffy. it makes you feel awful, gets you hot and antsy so quickly, that nami blinks twice. of course, you apologise. you always have. but nami gets the directive before you do, and she reaches forward to hug you close to her chest. her nose tickles your neck and the space is living with her breath — the crook of your neck. “how about we stay like this for a bit, hm?” it’s more for your own means to find ground amongst your frustrations, to help you calm down, but nami has always loved being close to you. she always has.

usopp — holds you close to protect you

the great captain usopp. mighty warrior of the sea. well, not the great when the sea is colliding into rows of wood at maximum speed, which rocks the entire great vessel. you try to be less of a deterrence, try to find your own standing in the room you’re in with usopp, but your body is thrown across the room in one fell swoop, where you meet halfway into usopp’s chest. there’s a messy string of syllables that leave your lips, a creaky apology as you try to maintain some space between you (for the sake of your enervated heart), but he’s quicker. an ability derived from his sharp-shooter skills, you’re sure. his arm wraps around your waist and he allows you to crowd his chest. allows you to hold him like a pillar against the raging sea when it sends a rather alarming rock to the ship. “hold on tight — you’ve got nothing to worry about with captain usopp here. you hear?”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x yn #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x yn #nami x reader #nami x you #nami x yn #usopp x reader #usopp x you #usopp x yn #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x yn

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 1 month

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BABY GIRL

Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary - Jackson likes to keep you doped up for both of your safety.

Warnings - Non-con, dub-con, drugging, manipulation, degrading, p in v, edging.

Word count - 1.9k+

Notes - Guess who wanted to work on one of her WIP's but decided to watch Red Eye and just had to write another one about my favourite boy.

You laid on the bed, completely naked against his body, he only wore his boxers, your left leg draped over his hips, his hand slowly caressing your back as your face was pressed up against his lean bare chest.

The audio of the television was muffled, your sight blurred as you slowly breathed in and out. The sheets were hardly covering your flesh, but you were too dazed to pay attention to it. The sensation of his large fingers caressing your tender skin was enough to earn gentle moans from your soft lips. His cold blue eyes watched you like a hawk. Almost skeptical that you would commence a ploy against him, despite your doped state.

Jackson Rippner was fascinated by you. The moment he saw you, he knew that you would be his. It was unfortunate with the circumstances you met under. Star crossed lovers in his opinion, a bit of a spiced uniqueness to your relationship.

You were assigned to investigate him for terrorism. Many times you were warned about your high levels of ambition, your eagerness put you in danger. But you were always too stubborn to listen to your superiors.

“Jackson” you murmured against his chest, almost drooling. He sighed lightly, his hand rubbing circles around your lower back.

“Yes baby?” He asked softly, there was silence for a brief moment. Jackson waited patiently for you to respond as you raised your heavy head.

“Are you going to keep me drugged up forever” you slowly questioned, your eyes ached to stay open, your thoughts blurred with sweet nothings.

There was this blank, emotionless stare from him. As he was questioning himself, he really did wonder what he’d do with you in the long run. The thought of him keeping you mindless for the rest of your days made the blood rush to his cock. Only being mentally capable to muse the thought of him touching, fucking, loving you.

But then he also wanted to take you out for an expensive dinner, vacate at a ski resort, hold you from behind as you cook him a loving homemade meal. Jackson never considered himself a romantic, but different people create a better you. The idea of having a life as one together made his heart flutter.

“No baby girl” he answered eventually.

“When will you stop” you breathed out, a small smile on your lips, a thread of hope. There was a small grin on his lips as his hands gently rubbed your hips.

“When I know you’ll be a good girl for me” Jackson mocked, pulling you completely over his hips to saddle him.

“I am a good girl” you countered, your head felt heavy yet your thoughts light.

“Because you’re drugged up” he laughed softly, his large hand caressing your cheek as your face fell limp on him.

“Touché” you snorted and he patted your cheek a couple of times. Sluggestly, you lifted your head back up, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Please sir, I promise to be good” you assured, but your small smile was all so devilish.

That title always got the blood flowing to his cock. You could already feel his size growing underneath you.

“Really? You cross your heart, hope to die, type of promise?” Jackson razzed, flashing you a toothy grin as his fingers slowly moved closer to your core.

“Yes sir” you promised, batting your eyes towards him.

“Oh baby girl, how can I be so sure?” He toyed, titling his head to you.

The scratches on his face were faint. Whenever he sobered you up, you were quick to get in every shot you could at him. However, you were foolish not to carefully plan out your scheme to escape, or as you preferred to do, attempting to kill him.

“Because I love you cock Jacky” you moaned, his fingers toying with your clit.

Within a blink, Jackson had flipped you onto your back. Holding your throat down against the mattress and huffing, flaring his teeth at you. “What did I tell you?” He snarled, his thumb rubbing over your chin.

“You hate being called Jacky” you choked out, but you were still grinning at him.

“And I thought you wanted to be a good girl” he pouted to you.

“I do” you almost sang, coughing at the restriction to your throat.

“Fix your mistake then” Jackson ordered calmly.

“Because I love your cock, sir” you choked out, emphasizing the correction. With the release of your throat, Jackson sighed.

“That’s a good whore” Jacksont grinned at you, flexing his hips forward. You pouted to him. “My good whore” he corrected himself, dropping his lips onto your neck.

It was pointless, trying to deny the sensation Jackson always brought over your body. It was too much effort to try to hide the pleasure he always bathed you in.

This is where you belonged, underneath him, figuratively and literally.

In small circular motions, his tongue swished over your heated skin, his hands ran slowly up and down your torso, his fingers playfully scratching at your nerves, his stubble tickled you. Your arms gradually enveloped around his back, your fingernails scraping at his skin lightly.

“I’ll always take care of you baby girl. You know that right?” Jackson asked as he pushed his boxers down enough to free his throbbing length.

“Yes, Jackson” you breathed out, laying your head back carelessly.

“Could have gotten you killed, interfering with my business, like a little fucking brat. But I saved you…” Jackson grinned as he lined himself up with your gushing entrance.

“No Jackson” you shook your head, moaning out softly as he gently pushed himself inside of you.

“Who are you lying to?” Jackson snorted as he rested himself completely inside of our canal.

“This isn’t living” you countered, your hands rising up to the back of his neck, your legs raising up to your hips in unison.

Jackson couldn’t help but to laugh as his hips snapped back and forward. His lower lip was stuck in between his teeth as he searched for the perfect pace and speed.

“For someone who is constantly high, you sure as hell are conscious” he remarked, his hands holding onto your sides.

“I was always smarter than you” you murmured, biting onto your lower lip.

Jackson laughed gently as his teeth nipped at your earlobe.

“Yet look at where you are now. Be my good girl, I want to spoil you rotten. Don’t you want those things?” He toyed, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bud.

“Yes Jackson” you answered emotionlessly.

Most of the time it was easier to give him what he wanted, your complete submission. You were always so weak, tired, feeling out of body. The effect his touch had on your body was the biggest punishment. If you weren’t always so high, you’d be heavily humiliated with how badly you craved him. The control he had over your body was frightening, he was your puppeteer, always pulling on your strings despite how desperately you tried to cut yourself free.

“I want to give you the world” he professed as he found the perfect rhythm to fuck you to.

“I want to kill you” you whined out, face twitching as the high stimulation took over full steam ahead.

“No you don’t, you could never do such a thing” he mumbled, his hands pinning yours above your head.

“But I’ve tried” you groaned as he hit your cervix.

“And that’s okay” he assured you, kissing you in a sloppy manner as if to comfort your distressed thoughts. “You’re learning to be my good girl, yeah?” Jackson asked, teasing your bundle of nerves as he kept your pleasure swimming by the edge.

“Yes Jackson” you shamefully admitted, your eyes swelled with tears as his thrusts became more painful.

His mouth fell open into a large smirk at the sight of you crying. It was one of his favorite looks of yours. Over mere seconds, your tears formed into a stream as you sobbed underneath him. The clarity of your predicament washed over you once more.

“Yeah, you’re so fucking pathetic. Acting like a tough, stuck up bitch. But you’re nothing but a little whore for cock, my cock to be precise” he grunted, feeling your walls clench around his throbbing size.

The sounds of your troubled moans always felt like a melody to him. The mixture between your logical and sensual thoughts left you in shame. Jackson kissed you deeply, your mouth was wide open but you refused to kiss him back. The taste of your tears made him growl like a wolf.

“Fuck, your director would be so disappointed in you. Everyone thinks you’re fucking dead. So get the stupid thoughts of breaking free out of that little mind of yours” he sneered, his free hand holding your chin in place as you tried to turn your head to the side.

“Stop talking Jackson” you whimpered, desperately trying to focus on the pleasure and not his taunting words.

“No one is looking for you. I have no tails, nobody cares about me. Only you did, you felt it too from the beginning, just like I did, our connection” he grinned as his balls slapped against your entrance.

“Shut up Jackson” you whined as you felt your climax build.

But Jackson loved watching you cry. It was amusing to watch your emotional strength crash, it was pleasing to look at your humiliation. A wonderful reminder of how reliable you are on him. Jackson loved to pull your strings around, to keep you on your hands and knees as he yanked you across the dirt.

“Bet you wanted me to steal you away from your useless life. Now your biggest stress is wondering how many times you’ll get to squeeze my cock each day” he moaned out, kissing your tears away.

“Shut the fuck up Jackson!” You screamed out as loud as you could, your weak body thrashed under him but it quickly left you exhausted.

“Someone’s getting sober” Jackson pointed out with a grin, holding you down effortlessly. “Might just keep you tied up instead, I like your screams” he winked to you.

“Please stop, please, please” you begged repetitively as he continued to fuck you senselessly.

“Then tell me what I want to hear” he sighed, his hand combing back his damp hair from the sweat that trailed down his forehead.

“N-no” you shook your head, you could feel him twitch rapidly inside of you.

You knew exactly what he wanted you to say. It was the thing you hated doing most. He always wanted you to say it when you were so close to finishing.

“Please” he toyed, playfully begging you as he kept your built orgasm dangling from the edge.

“Come on baby girl, make me feel good” he grunted as he smacked your rear.

There was another weak shake of your head so Jackson held his body still inside of you. Pathetically, just like he always described you as, you whined out at the pressure built in your core. All you wanted to do right now was come undone, feel something good in this torture. But Jackson stared at you sternly, menacingly. His hands pressed down on your hips as you tried to rock yourself around him.

“I-I love you” you admitted, your cheeks beet red.

Instead of fucking you senselessly like you assumed he would. Jackson pulled himself out and jerked himself over you. Quickly, his white ropes of semen sprayed over your sweaty stomach. You panted, looking at the mess he made on you as your distressed expression made him chuckle silently.

“I love you too” he replied blankly.

As you caught your weak breath, Jackson laid his body on top of yours, his fingers touched your sensitive core, gently teasing you. You moaned out, ready to do anything to free yourself of your painful climax.

“But so, drugged or tied?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow to you.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #smut #dark smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #red eye 2005 #jackson rippner

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goosita · 5 months

Text

working as young!politician!coryo’s secretary is usually a fairly calm job, not too stress inducing.

most days, you greet people who come in for meetings with coriolanus, send out emails and faxes, make and take phone calls for his office, and keep a steady flow of fresh coffee at all hours. then, you tidy up your desk when the day is done and you wait for your best friend to come pick you up and drive you home from work.

today was going according to plan, having been an especially easy day. mr. snow had been out for most of the afternoon, only returning about an hour ago. the phones had been quiet as well, giving you time to finish all of your work on the computer you had put off. it was rounding out to be quite the easy day, until your best friend called 5 minutes before you were due to clock out for the evening.

“i’m sorry! the tire just exploded, literally. and now i’m stuck waiting here for god knows how long for a tow truck. i’m so sorry,” they babble, clearly feeling incredibly guilty.

“it’s fine, i promise. i can just call a taxi or something.”

out of the corner of your eye, you see coriolanus leave his office, turning to lock the door behind him. he glances at you curiously.

“are you sure? i don’t know how long it’ll take but—“

“yes, i’m sure,” you cut them off, sighing. “cab fair to my place is only a few dollars, i’ll survive. let me know when you make it home though, alright?”

your friend laments and agrees to send you a message when they’re home, hanging up. you barely hold in a heavy sigh, sliding your phone into your bag.

“need a ride?” coriolanus asks, tilting his head to the side just-so. it startles you for a moment, having forgotten he was standing right there.

“oh, no. thank you, mr. snow, but i’ll be okay. i can call a cab,” you tell him, cheeks warming.

“nonsense, can’t let a lovely young lady like you risk getting into some seedy cab,” he insists. he gives you that charming grin, the one that makes the smile line near his cheek deepen prettily. you hesitate for a moment longer before he steps closer, offering his arm.

you try not to let it show that your fingers tremble just slightly, slipping your arm through his and resting your hand in the cradle of his elbow. coriolanus smiles even wider, leading you outside to the parking garage reserved for the building.

“thank you, mr. snow,” you say quietly as you walk beside him. he shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.

“it’s past business hours. you can call me by my first name, you know.”

you don’t know what exactly to say to that, simply offering a hum in response. coriolanus leads you to a sleek black car where a man in an equally sleek black suit stands at the driver’s side door. coriolanus holds his hand out to the man, who gives a look of surprise but drops the car keys into his palm.

“i’d like to drive myself this evening, gerald. thank you.”

he leaves no room for questioning as he walks you to the passenger side, his driver quickly disappearing. coriolanus opens the door for you and gently holds your hand as you slide in, giving you a soft grin as he closes the door. when he walks around the front to the driver’s side door, you speak up.

“i live on pr—“

“i know,” he cuts you off. you swallow, watching him sit down and start the car. he must sense your confused before he sees it on your face, because he speaks again.

“i have a good memory. i saw it on your application last year and remembered you live on the same street as an old friend,” he explains. you nod, looking down at your hands in your lap.

coriolanus smoothly pulls out of the parking spot, resting his hand on your headrest as he turns to look out of the back window. it’s so hard not to stare, to look at the way his neck is exposed like this. his jaw is so sharp, skin smooth and pale. you can smell his scent lingering in the small space between you; that intoxicating mix of roses and spice and metal.

“it’s not polite to stare,” he teases, turning his body back to the front. his hands settle comfortably on the wheel, his icy stare focused on the road.

“i-i’m sorry, mr. snow. i didn’t mean to.”

“coriolanus,” he purrs. “coryo, if you prefer.”

coryo. not just his first name, but a nickname. your hands feel clammy.

“coryo,” you say softly, almost under your breath. he hums in acknowledgment, the corner of his mouth quirked upward.

it goes silent in the car after that, your mind working overtime to try and figure him out. the last few weeks have been nothing short of dizzying, his lingering gazes and teasing quips, just shy of innuendos. you think back to the way he had watched you with the lollipop in his mouth, the way he had dragged his tongue over the red candy and the stain it had left on his plush lips. the way you’d been unable to stop thinking about what those lips would taste like against your own, sticky with cherry and sugar.

a warm hand settled on your thigh, breaking you out of your thoughts as you jump slightly, looking over at him. still, his eyes are glued to the road, as if he wasn’t doing anything at all besides driving.

“coriolanus…?” you murmur, glancing down at his hand. his fingers are long, spanning over your clothed thigh almost completely. his fingertips just barely brush the inseam of your trousers, but he’s still about it. he doesn’t move to stroke or caress, just rests there in your lap.

“yes, darling?” he says evenly. you don’t know why, but the petname makes your breath hitch. “everything alright?”

you breathe out slowly, slightly shakily. “yeah— yes.”

coriolanus smiles, eyes flickering to you just once before returning to the street. after a few more moments, he’s pulling onto your street and parking outside your apartment.

“here we are,” he says unceremoniously. like his palm isn’t burning through your pants on your leg, making you hold in a shudder. “home, safe and sound.”

it takes you a few moments to find your voice again, nodding. “thank you for the ride, mr. sn—….coryo.”

“you’re very welcome, my darling,” he says; and there it is again. that endearment. “i’ll see you in the morning.”

you nod and go to open the car door, letting his hand fall from your thigh. you grab your back and close the door behind you, turning and quickly hurrying up the sidewalk to the front steps of your building before you hear his voice call out again.

“miss y/n?”

you stop and turn, seeing that he rolled the window down.

“sweet dreams.”

#politician!coryo x secretary!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #coryo

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absolutebl · 2 months

Text

This Week in BL - The Industry is Having Issues But the Spice Spicy Must Flow

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) eps 1-2 of 10 - One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames starring MaxNat. I'm over this concept but I do enjoy MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Tai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha to deal with. (Phupha is played by Gun Thanawat who was Khom, the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night. We like this, but we scared of the love triangle aspect.) Did that make sense? Yeah, okay, see what I mean?

Initial thoughts?

The subs are troubling but I’m enjoying this show a lot. It’s nice to see MaxNat get something meaty to sink their teeth into - that’s not just each other. Also it’s so smart of them to give us a fully fleshed out entire episode developing the alter romance rather than just a separation + death. It makes Khram’s grief and motivation that much more believable. Also it’s really nice to see Nat have good chemistry with other actors.

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 3 of 8 (10?) - I'm still enjoying it. But Two Worlds is objectively better. So this one has lost ranking. Also, unexpectedly chili (the name of my heavy metal Thai cover band).

Lovey switchy and verse main couple too.

This is all quite pleasing.

The bit where the hosts pretend to be a BL couple actor ship was epic on so many levels.

Also unsettling.

All sex work is performative, and in a way there is something more honest about this depiction, in this setting, than what BL actors are made to do on the promo circuit. Which then begs the question, how different is BL from sex work? That's the unsettling bit, for me anyway. Not to slam on sex work AT ALL, we pro-the-true-pros on this damn blog, but actors have been shaded by association with True Professionals for a very long time and BL has already had one epic shut down in this regard. (See the PerthSaint scandal around Love By Chance, no I will not explain.) Where was I? Oh yes, so anyway, see the Gossip section for the part where they better be paid either way!

Also, since I'm a warped fucker, I found this scene funny.

And then hilarious when all of those BL tropes were just trotted out. Like a greatest hits reel.

Truly beyond meta. (How Absolute BL of them.)

Note he’s even standing in yaoi's patented "hands in pocket with the shoulders back"?

Meanwhile, the gayest bridge in Thailand made its quarterly appearance:

And lip serviced was paid to the most touristy romantic things you can do in Bangkok.

And I mean lip service literally.

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 5 of 8 - I’m still enjoying it but getting more and more nervous. We getting too close to Promise territory for comfort. EXPLAIN Ji’s reticence well and do it now or risk audience mistrust. We have to be given a GOOD reason for Ji's behavior, or he'll be irredeemable.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - NO SINGING. Yes smiley kisses and good communication and a nice healthy relationship. But no singing!

1000 Years Old ep 6 of 12 - Dropping in the ranks. I’m sorry it’s just gotten boring. It has, however, inspired me to invest in my own ridiculous cream fuzzy sweater. Which I plan to wear with leather trousers and huge stumpy boots, like the Kpop queer I truly am. Or do I mean vampire?

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - Seems to be an excuse for a small posse of Thai actors to wander around Tokyo playing tourist and sing in public . Someone stop them?

“Most people think this kind of thing is bad manners .”

Anyway, it’s v boring. I’ll give it one more ep but I suspect I’ll DNF.

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) eps 1-2 of 6 - Meh. This is also looking suspiciously DNF-a-licious.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube & Viki) ep 5 of 11 - It's brilliant. I love it. I'm ready to hurt. Let’s do this thing.

Distribution note: This one has been picked up and is also airing on Viki now, so it may lose YT distribution in soem territories. I like Youku's hard subs better than Viki's subs, but that's a matter of preference not information since I don't speak Mandarin.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - It is good. Every week I like this show a little more. I'm enjoying a reunion romance explored in Japan's quintessentially contemplative yet slightly surreal way. The juxtaposition of the tenderness of the sex scene with this Japanese brand of authenticity was oddly elegant - for lack of a better way of putting it. All in all, this is a good show. Thought provoking. Stylish.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - It remains lovely but they sure are reusing a lot of footage. Also, this was a classic penultimate doom episode. I do wonder how they are going to resolve this show ethically.

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 8 - It is what it is, and it isn’t my style of show no matter what country of origin. Oddly that's one of the reasons I don't like it. Anyone could have made this, it's not as Japanese as I want it to be, it's just indie film club high school angst. Yawn.

I watched it, finally

The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube) 7 eps - I dislike vertical filming, but I kind of enjoyed this show as a BL. I like class conflict romances. For me the rich kid is a bit too dictatorial (edges into bulling), but it’s kinda works. It’s sparse and underdeveloped and a bit plotless, but mildly entertaining. If you're missing Vietnamese BL you might give it a try. 6/10

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) 8eps - A Burmese BL that I had thoughts about but actually ended up recommending. Read the saga here:

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) ep 1 of ? - on one hand it's micro-installment vertical, on the other it's adorable and from Taiwan. I blame @heretherebedork entirely for my conundrum. As indeed, I did for My Type back in the day. (That was Nat Chen's first BL, yes of Kiseki: Dear To Me fame.) So I think I will also simply lean on Here to let me know when it's done and binge all at once. It's just too much to ask me to keep up with 2 minute pieces, I don't have that kind of endurance training, not even for BL.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - it's finished now, I dropped it at ep 4. Should I bother?

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing for some reason.

Man Suang that MileApo vehicle from last year is coming to Netflix in the USA. I haven't heard much about it and since the KP stans would have lost their tiny minds if it was any good at all, I'm assuming it's not good at all.

Gossip

Thai BL actor Yoon breaks with his former company and talks about some very very VERY shady goings on in the Thai BL industry. Including not being paid.

And whacha know, same thing happening in Korean BL.

Have I mentioned recently how much I hate the film industry?

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Soon

3/31 Only Boo! (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, baby boy idol can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

4/1 Love is like a Cat (Korea ????) 12 eps - This completed filming Aug 2022(!) which means there have been serious problems with post-production. This is another of Silkwood's Korean+Thai colab projects. Mew Suppasit plays a rookie film star, called the Cat Prince (for his cold arrogance) who goes up against a charismatic puppyish animal daycare director (JM of JUST B). There is also a side romance (love triangle?) with a veterinarian. Geonu of JUST B is also in the cast.

I wonder if this was part of the hold up, with Geonu on Build Up right now, they might have tried to muffle this one. Or maybe it's just that bad...

4/3 We Are (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN!

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV?) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner), Best and frest face, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Without ghost girl.

With ghost girl.

I think she may be my favorite part of 1000 Years.

CLASSIC tsundere seme description of a sunshine uke. Like classic'est of classic. (Two Worlds)

Is there such a thing as a tired trope in a BL? Since it is a genre that is made up entirely of tropes quilted together? Your philosophical question for today brought to you by Deep Night's kabedon (Japanese trope) + punishment threat (Thai trope).

Love me a lap sit moment. (City of Stars)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

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misc-obeyme · 1 year

Note

hi! can you make something uuhhh... kinda spicy..? the side characters reaction to getting catch making out/ kissing mc hard?😳

Hi there, anon!

This is by far the spiciest thing I've ever posted here (ETA: lol), but I would still say it's only slightly spicy. They ended up a little longer than I meant for them to, but you know when inspiration strikes, I tend to go with the flow and not question it. Anyway, I hope the spice level is okay and that they're not too cheesy, but either way I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you for the request!

side characters make out with GN!MC and react to getting caught

Warnings: making out, kissing, touching, etc, but everyone stays clothed lol

Diavolo

You had received a message from Diavolo earlier that evening asking you to come see him at the Demon Lord's Castle. Although he hadn't said what it was he wanted to talk to you about, you were pretty sure it was regarding an upcoming event that you were helping him plan. So you made your way over to the castle quickly.

He had been at his desk in his office, working away, when you arrived. He looked up at you as you entered the room, putting down his pen and actually standing up to greet you.

"Thank you for coming, MC!" he said, taking your hand and leading you to a seat in front of his desk.

You sat down as he passed several papers to you. A glance revealed that you were correct - they were about the event at RAD that you were planning. You had some ideas about it already and the two of you launched into a discussion about logistics and such things.

When your talk finally came to an end, you nodded firmly. "Okay," you said. "I'll have all this ready in the next couple of days."

"That would be wonderful, but don't overwork yourself, MC," Diavolo said.

"Don't worry, I can handle it," you said. You stood up from your seat and smiled at him. "Good night, Diavolo. I'll see you at RAD tomorrow."

You turned and walked toward the door. You were about to open it when you found that somehow Diavolo was already standing in your way. How did he get there so fast? But you didn't have time to wonder too much about that.

He frowned, but it was more like a pout and you could see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Must you leave so soon?"

You folded your arms and looked at him. "We both have a lot of work to do."

Diavolo couldn't keep the smile off his face. He moved closer to you, settling his hands on your waist. "I know, MC," he said. "But can't we take advantage of these few moments alone? I promise I'll be able to work twice as hard later."

You scoffed at this, but you also felt a smile creeping onto your face. You couldn't exactly refuse those sparkling gold eyes. "I guess I have a few minutes…"

Diavolo pulled you closer, kissing you as your hands rested on his chest. The heat from his soft lips spread throughout your entire body as you felt an electric thrill run through your stomach.

Diavolo began to move forward, causing you to move backward until you ran into his desk. You felt him lift you to sit on his desk and you let out a small sound of surprise, nearly breaking the kiss. Your concern quickly fled as he moved in further, one hand leaning against the desk beside you and one cupping your cheek.

You could feel the flush warming your face and neck as his hand moved from your cheek into your hair. Your own hands gripped the front of his uniform before sliding up to clasp behind his neck.

The hand in your hair slid down your spine slowly before stopping on your lower back. You couldn't help but arch into the touch. This broke the kiss, but Diavolo's lips were now on your neck. You bit your lip as he trailed kisses down your throat.

The door to the office opened with a slight creak.

You froze. Diavolo pulled away, hovering over you, but clearly not willing to completely let you go.

You looked over his shoulder at Lucifer, who stood in the doorway holding a stack of papers in one hand, his other hand still on the doorknob.

Lucifer cleared his throat. "Forgive me for interrupting," he said, his voice full of sarcasm. "I'll just leave these here." He put the papers on a nearby table before exiting immediately, shutting the door sharply with a snap.

You looked back at Diavolo, who was staring at you in surprise. Then he laughed, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair as he did so.

"I'm so sorry, MC," Diavolo said, a light blush across his cheeks. "I'm afraid I got carried away and forgot that Lucifer was coming by. Can you forgive me?"

You sighed. The pool of warmth that had settled in your stomach still lingered, fueled by Diavolo's cheerful response to having been caught like this. "I'll forgive you on one condition."

"Anything for you," he said.

You slipped off the desk, fixing your clothes and hair as you did so. Then you straightened his tie, which had gotten skewed. "Next time, invite me over when you aren't working so we can have the whole evening to ourselves."

"I promise," he said, smiling brightly.

Barbatos

It was a rainy day in the Devildom and for some reason you found yourself craving one of Barbatos's signature cakes. When you asked him about it, he offered to come over to the House of Lamentation to make one for you. That was how you found yourself in the kitchen, watching as he expertly mixed various ingredients to create cake, frosting, and filling. You helped where you could, but really it was best to just watch the master at work.

He had removed his gloves and RAD uniform jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his green shirt. It was really quite enjoyable to watch him as he made the batter or piped the frosting. Barbatos was always smiling and content while he was baking. He was in his element and you couldn't help but stare at him as he moved about the kitchen.

When the cake was finally ready, you waited in anticipation as Barbatos cut you a slice. He placed it on a little plate before using a fork to scoop up a bite. You watched curiously, thinking he was going to sample it himself before allowing you to eat some. Instead, he held the fork out to you.

You blushed instantly, but you held his gaze while you leaned forward and ate the cake off the fork. He waited, watching you.

"It's delicious, of course," you said. "You don't… you're not going to feed it all to me, are you?"

Barbatos smiled, placing the plate on the counter. "Did you think I hadn't noticed the way you were staring, MC? It was quite distracting."

"I couldn't help it," you said. "If you could see yourself, you wouldn't blame me."

Barbatos moved closer to you. He leaned in, not quite touching you. "I came here this afternoon to satisfy your craving," he said quietly in your ear. "But your keen attention has caused a different craving in me, I'm afraid. Won't you indulge me?"

You knew he was waiting for some kind of confirmation from you. He was so close, you couldn't quite focus because your heart was pounding too hard. You opened your mouth, as though you were going to say something, but found that no words came out. So instead you closed the remaining space between you, put your hands on his cheeks, and kissed him.

You felt Barbatos's arms wrap around you, pressing you to him. You kept one hand on his face, but let the other one fall to grip his arm, your fingers coming in contact with his rarely exposed skin. You gently nipped his bottom lip and he opened his mouth for you. Your whole body was warm, a giddy feeling bubbled up in your stomach, and the taste of him was so much sweeter than any dessert.

You felt his hands moving slowly but deliberately up and down your back. The sensation of heat was almost overwhelming you.

You tried to stop yourself, but it was no use. "Barbatos," you moaned his name into his lips and you felt his grip on you tighten.

Your knees were weak and just as you thought you might not be able to stay standing, there was a clatter at the other end of the kitchen.

"Ohhh MC! Barbatos! Why didn't you invite me to this make out party?"

You felt yourself blush intensely as you pulled away and saw Asmodeus walk into the room.

Barbatos smiled at you before letting you go and turning around. "Asmodeus," he said, perfectly composed. "Would you like some cake?"

Asmo pouted. "Are you really going to try to pretend that you guys weren't just making out?"

"Asmodeus," Barbatos said again. He was smiling, but an aura of black and purple had sprung up around him. "Would you like some cake?"

Asmo shuddered. "That cake looks divine, of course I'd love a piece!"

Barbatos began to cut another piece of the cake for Asmo while you picked up your own plate and took another bite. It was as amazing as it always was. Word spread quickly around the House of Lamentation that there was cake to be had. There were no leftovers, especially after Beel showed up. Barbatos was more than happy to make another cake so everyone was satisfied.

Later on, you stood by the front door as Barbatos prepared to return to the castle. He was back in his full uniform, white gloves and all. He paused in the front doorway, taking both of your hands in his.

"Should you wish to enjoy that cake again, I must insist that you come to the Demon Lord's Castle," he said with his usual smile. "Allow me to treat you to a full tea party as well."

You leaned in a little closer and kissed his cheek. "I would love to," you said. "Especially if it's a tea party just for two."

Simeon

You lingered outside the door of the home economics classroom, waiting for Simeon to come out. Many delicious aromas wafted out as the other students filed past you, chatting about the various things they had made during class.

You had just come from seductive speechcraft, where you had received a message from Simeon on your D.D.D. After working out a couple of the typos, you realized he was asking you to meet him here at the home economics classroom so you could have lunch together. He had made something tasty and wanted to share it with you.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Simeon emerged from the classroom with a small box in his hands. He smiled when he saw you.

"I'm sorry if you were waiting long, MC," he said.

"It wasn't that long," you said. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Simeon said, still smiling. "I was thinking we could eat outside. It's a nice afternoon."

"Sure," you said.

You and Simeon made your way through the halls, down the front steps, and through the grounds to a mostly secluded spot surrounded by trees. You both sat down at the base of one of the trees. Simeon carefully opened the box he'd been carrying to reveal a couple of his famous BLT devil sandwiches.

"I made a lot of these today," he said. "I gave most of them to Beelzebub during class, but I saved these for us to have for lunch."

You pulled two devil crush super spicy mango juices from your bag. "I brought drinks," you said.

"That's perfect," Simeon said. "Thank you, MC."

It didn't take the two of you long to eat your lunch, laughing and talking the whole time. When you were finished, there was still time left before you needed to go back to class.

You sighed and leaned back against the tree. "This is so nice," you said. "I wish I could just stay here with you forever instead of going back to class."

Simeon laughed and leaned toward you, taking one of your hands. "Forever? Are you sure you would want to stay with me that long, MC?"

The bright smile on his face and the way his blue eyes were shining caused you to lean closer and say, "Yes. Forever."

Simeon blushed and raised your hand to his lips, kissing it softly while looking up at you.

Your heart began to race. You turned your hand in his and cupped his cheek.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments before you simultaneously moved closer together, your lips meeting. Simeon shifted so he was on his knees before you, one hand on your thigh and the other still covering yours which remained on his cheek. You could feel his skin flushing beneath your touch.

You opened your mouth without thinking about it clearly, eager for more of him. He responded instantly, if tentatively. You ran a hand through his hair, letting the soft, smooth strands fall through your fingers.

You pulled away briefly for some air and found yourself looking at the soft brown skin of his throat, peeking above the high collar of his shirt. You kissed it and you couldn't resist continuing down to his exposed collarbone and one of his shoulders.

"M-MC-" Simeon's grip on your thigh tightened as he said your name.

There was a rustling in the tree above you and a loud thud nearby.

Simeon sat back and stood up in one fluid motion, clearly surprised. You looked up to see Belphie rubbing at his eyes. He seemed exasperated.

"Can't a demon take a nap in a tree without being disturbed around here?" he asked, giving you both a sleepy look. "You guys better stop making out and get back to class or you'll get detention for skipping."

Simeon sighed and held out a hand to help you up. You accepted the offered hand, letting him pull you to your feet. You saw that he was blushing only slightly less than you were.

You were ready to get on Belphie's case for sleeping in trees, but he was already on his way back to RAD. You turned to Simeon bashfully. "Thanks for lunch," you said.

Simeon laughed and shook his head. "You're welcome, MC. We should do this again. We'll just have to make sure the tree we choose to sit by doesn't have Belphegor napping in its branches."

You couldn't help but laugh, too. It was embarrassing to get caught, but Simeon still looked like he was happy just to be with you. He held your hand all the way back to RAD.

Solomon

You had been in the library at RAD with Solomon for the last couple of hours, reading through a stack of books. He was researching some minute details of a certain kind of spell involving a magic circle, but it was an old spell and there was limited information about it. So you had to look through many old books to see if you could find even a small mention of it.

You closed the book you were currently looking through as you reached the end and realized that you had no more books in your to-read stack.

The library was quiet at this hour of the day. Across the table from you, Solomon was engrossed in whatever book was in front of him. The look on his face was one of serious concentration.

You didn't want to disturb him, but he seemed to sense that you were watching him. He looked up at you, smiled and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head for a moment.

"Are you done already?" he asked.

"I've gone through all of these," you said.

Solomon nodded. "Come on, there are plenty of other books to look through. I'll help you get more from the shelves."

You got up from the table and followed Solomon. You frowned when he passed by the books you thought he was going to stop at.

You jogged a little to catch up to him. "Um, weren't the books back there?"

"There are more over here," he said. "I think we might be more successful with these."

He stopped in front of the back wall of books and indicated the top half of the shelves. "You can use this step stool to reach them," he said, pulling a little step stool from nearby. "If you want to hand them down to me, we can take back a stack of them."

You stepped up onto the first step and knew immediately that the stool wasn't balanced right. It tipped slightly and you stumbled, throwing out your hands in an attempt to catch yourself.

Fortunately for you, Solomon was there to catch you. However, you then found yourself with your back pressed against the shelf and his arms wrapped around you. You knew he saw the blush that you could feel suddenly spring to your cheeks.

Solomon seemed reluctant to let you go. "Are you all right, MC? I'm sorry I almost caused you to get hurt."

"I'm fine," you said. "It scared me a little, though."

Solomon reached up and brushed back some of your hair, which had fallen forward into your face when you fell. "Let me make it up to you," he said, leaning in closer and pausing, lips inches away from yours.

You took the invitation and kissed him, letting your arms wrap around him, your fingers clinging to the back of his RAD uniform. He responded by pressing into you, keeping a hand behind your back to prevent you from being pushed uncomfortably into the bookshelf. His kiss was hot and heavy, his touch needy.

You felt dizzy, ready to get lost in him and forget about the old books for a while. A twinge of butterflies fluttered through your insides as you felt yourself flushing in response. The heat around you increased, Solomon's body pressed up against yours, one of his hands tracing lightly down your arm.

You gasped as Solomon broke away long enough to move to your neck. You tangled a hand in his hair as he made his way down to your collarbone, biting gently at your skin.

And then someone cleared their throat loudly.

Solomon reluctantly pulled himself away from you, turning to look at whoever had interrupted while straightening his uniform.

Satan stood there, arms folded, looking like he was about to go into demon form on the both of you. "Solomon. MC. What are you doing? This is a library. And I need one of the books you're so blatantly making out on."

You blushed, covering your face with your hands. "Sorry," you mumbled into your palms.

Solomon laughed and took your hands away from your face. "Sorry about that, Satan," he said. "We were just leaving."

Solomon led you back to the table where the books from earlier remained stacked.

"I thought there were more…?" you said.

Solomon shook his head, still smiling. "I think we're done for the day, don't you? We can pick up again another time. Let me walk you home."

You nodded, then stopped when something dawned on you. "Solomon, couldn't you have just used magic to get those books down from the top shelves?"

Solomon laughed again. "I suppose I could have."

You laughed, too. Like he really needed to make up an excuse like that to kiss you. You let him walk you home and made sure he knew as much before you parted ways.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#satan acting all offended like he wouldn't make out with mc in the library too lol #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfiction #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me simeon x mc #obey me solomon x mc #request #anon request #misc writes

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 8 months

Text

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Ice skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: Not me saying I’m back then disappearing for a week… I made this chapter a bit longer as an apology. I also saw the Arctic monkeys on Tuesday so I was a bit focused on that lmao. Excuse any grammatical errors, typos and Miguel being ooc. Also there will probably be only 2 or 3 chapters left of this series before I start working on my academic rival series.

(Y/N)- your name.

Cursing, angst (?), fluff (???) , mostly reader and friends but Miguel shows up at the end, promise it’s worth it.

Word count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 11: Sad to see you go, was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay.

—

You felt your body fill with anxiety as you watch Kate cross out another box on the whiteboard in your shared dorm, it felt like you had blink and suddenly the time flow would passed you, leaving you at the beginning of midterms, and regionals coming close the following Friday, you felt like if you blinked again time will fly out ass you again. You weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted or not. It’s like time was either moving antagonizing slow or so fast it was almost dizzying.

“Do you have a Halloween costume picked out for the party we’re gonna go to on frat row yet?” Kate’s question made your head snapped over to your shared bathroom, not even realizing that she had moved from the whiteboard in the first place.

“Maybe i should lay off the coffee…” you thought to yourself before shaking your head, it took you a second to realize she can’t see you from were you sat on top of your bed, before clearing your throat slightly to reply. “No I haven’t, have you?”

“Nah, I was gonna go after my last class, if you want I can wait for you and Logan to get out of practice and we can go as a group.” Kate offered as you heard the water from the sink start to run, probably Kate doing her skincare.

“Yeah, I'm down, I’ll ask Logan later.” You smiled, the thought of doing so silly yet mundane as going to Spirit Halloween to look at costumes and having each other set off the display animatronics in the store would help you calm down from the stress of the past two months and the anxiety you were feeling for the upcoming few days.

“Yay!” Kate squealed in excitement, causing you to chuckle at her reaction as the water from the skin was shut off, before she walked out with a big grin on her face, her hands still rubbing her moisturizer into her neck.

—

“I think I'm gonna be a vampire.” Logan said as he grabbed a random costume package with his free hand, the other one holding a pumpkin spice latte, the one he insisted on buying for you, him and Kate, saying it would go with the “fall activities vibes” if you guys weren’t drinking the lattes while costume shopping.

“Mmm,” Kate hummed as she took a quick sip of her own latte, her hand coming up to wipe some of the liquid that started to run down her chin due to how quickly she brought the drink back down. “I thought we should all wear matching costumes this year.” She smiled as she looked at you and Logan, her expression brightening at the thought.

You let out a snort, a hand coming up to cover your smile as you let out a small giggle at the thought of you three matching. “What are we going to do then? I don’t think there’s a lot of 2 girls and 1 guy costumes out there.” You point out, your hand coming down from covering your mouth, also taking a sip of your drink.

“I’ve already convinced my boyfriend to do one with us.” Kate said in almost a smug attitude, seemingly proud of herself for already having this whole thing planned out before you and Logan could get a chance to agree. “We should go as the teen titans.” She added, being a big fan of the show since her boyfriend made her watch it last year.

Logan gave her a confused look, “Aren’t there 5 of them? We’d still be missing a person.” He pointed out as he placed the vampire costume back where it was hanging before he grabbed it. Your eyes travel back to Kate, watching her excitement falter slightly.

“Shit… you’re right.” Kate mumbled before letting out a groan. You gave her a sympathetic pout, your hand going up to her shoulder in a playful attempt to give faux comfort, before her face lit up once more, Logan and you exchanged a knowing smirk. “Oh I know! His roommate! Boom that’s 5! So you guys in?” She asked, but you and Logan both knew resistance was futile when Kate had something on her mind, no matter how much you’d protest, she’d find a way to get her way regardless.

You let out a sigh, before nodding your head, the ends of your mouth twitching up into a small smile. “Okay, okay.” You say with a giggle, your smile widens when Kate starts to jump up and down while letting out a small squeal from joy and excitement.

“Hey hey, I didn’t agree to this.” Logan said after a beat, crossing his arms. His words and body language instantly made Kate stop her little celebration.

“Wh-“ she stuttered, her eyes widened and her bottom lip trembled slightly, she almost looked like a kicked puppy. You were about to turn towards Logan and hit him on his arm, when he started to laugh at her expression.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. I’ll do it.” He smirked, taking a sip of his latte.

—

With the costume planning out of the way, you were slightly more at ease, despite the small amount of importance that it was compared to what else you had going on, the ability to cross it off your to-do list gave you some more sense of control with life regardless. Kate had decided to take up the responsibility to buy everything and all you had to do was wear the costume when it was time for the Halloween parties that was set to happen on frat row at the end of the month, most likely going to end up jumping from one party to another.

Pushing the thought to the back of your mind as you put on your skates, Logan was a bit preoccupied trying to get a number from one of the new members of the figure skating team, having only 30 minutes left until your practice starts, and knowing him, he’ll find a way to get it. You take off your skate guards and step onto the ice, as you wait for Logan and Couch Kavinsky to show up. Deciding to mess around on the ice while you wait, marking your moves for the short program when you heard a nickname you haven’t heard in a while.

“Hey Ice princess.” God who knew 3 words could make you feel like you were losing all ability to function like a human being, you almost lost your balance as you come to a stop and face the source of the voice, your train of thought did stop though, and your ability to talk was thrown out the window as well. You look like a deer caught in headlights, Miguel would have thought it was cute if it was for the pit of anxiety he felt in his stomach as he walked to the edge of the rink, but not getting in. If Miguel told himself from a few years ago that he gets nervous around you, hell, if he told himself from 2 months ago he felt nervous around you, he’d laugh in his own face. Yet here he was, standing in front of the girl he’s been thinking nonstop about despite the fact you had ghosted him after the kiss, butterflies in his stomach that he’s desperately trying to stomp dead. Trying.

It wasn’t working.

“Hey…” You finally managed to finally spit out, although your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “You know it’s Monday right? We have the ice till 5.” You managed to say a bit louder, finding more confidence in your words, your arms crossing in front of your chest. You watched as Miguel stepped onto the ice, you didn’t even notice that he had his skates on, and made his way towards you. The fact he was currently ignoring your question was pissing you off a little, but you decided not to speak on it. Miguel finally came to a stop once he was in front of you, giving you a quick look over as a smirk formed on his face, one he would always give you before saying some rude or sarcastic remark, you let out a short huff of air through your nose, your lips formed into a thin line, as your eyebrows scrunched together. “If you’re gonna say something rude, I’m not in the-“

Your words quickly stopped coming from your lips when you felt a sudden pressure on them, a sudden pressure from Miguel’s lips. This wasn’t the first time he pulled a sneak attack kiss on you, but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t make your brain short circuit and your heart to bang against your ear drums. Your eyes fluttered shut as he wraps his arms around you, one around your waist and the other on your back, you found yourself kissing back without even realizing it, as you bring your hands up to his chest. This kiss was a lot different from the first one, the first time, it was heated, it was sloppy, it was almost animalistic, all the pent up aggression and frustration between the two of you being released through the make-out session, it was almost like a hatefuck, with out the actual fucking. It was a bit closer to the second smaller kiss he gave you after the make-out session, loving? Was that the right word? It was soft, gentle, warm, yet loving didn’t feel like the right description for what you felt for each other. You didn’t love him, and he didn’t love you…right?

His arms moved so he was now holding your hips, and despite the tender kisses he was giving you, you couldn’t stop your mind from running a mile a minute. You were in love with him. You couldn’t be, you couldn’t imagine yourself in a relationship with him right?

Wait.

Relationship.

Miguel was in a relationship.

Fuck-

You swiftly push him away from you, causing you to glide backwards slightly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you attempt to catch your breath and your train of thought. Miguel just looked at you confused, wondering why you pushed him away like you weren’t returning the kiss in the first place.

“You-you’re-“ you stuttered as you shook your head, your body feeling on fire despite the air conditioning blasting about you two. “Um ... you should go ...my coach is gonna be here soon…” you managed to spit out after a few seconds, glancing at the time, then dropping your gaze to the floor, your gloves hand coming up to nervously scratch at your cheek.

“(Y/N)-“ he starts to say your name but was stopped when the double doors opened up, you glanced up and saw Logan coming in with a smile on his face (mostly likely from him successfully getting the phone number) but the smile drops slightly and his pace slows down a bit as he give you a confused look.

“What are you doing here O’Hara? We’ve got the rink til 5.” Logan said to him as he neared the ice, Miguel didn’t answer, rather he just shook his head and made his way off the ice, but not before giving you one more quick glance as he skates past Logan who’s now on the ice. You didn’t really catch much of it, but the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your spine.

You blamed it on the air conditioning.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @miguel-ohara-eater @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #on thin ice fanfic #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara au #figure skating au #hockey au #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 fanfic

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cheynovak · 2 months

Text

A new addiction - Part 2

Jensen Ackles x F/reader (Y/N)

Warning: 18+, nothing too graphic but still, age difference, Open relationship

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

Let's make it very clear I don't want to denigrate, break up or talk bad about Danneel, their relationship or family. I love them and wish both all the happiness.

This story is pure fiction. Have fun!

-> A new addiction masterlist <-

Story: Recap.

Jensen and Danneel are going through a difficult time in their relationship. After being together for so long and married for 14 years the excitement and sexual tension is gone.

After going to marriage counseling Danneel had the idea of trying a semi-open relationship, each choosing 3 persons they are allowed to experiment with.

And guess who is on Jensen's list…

Morning After

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Y/N stirred, her eyelids heavy with sleep. As she blinked away the remnants of dreams, memories of the previous night flooded back. She glanced beside her to find Jensen, still asleep, his features softened by the morning light.

Their clothes lay scattered across the floor, a silent testament to the passion shared just hours before. Y/N couldn't help but smile, tracing the contours of Jensen's face with her eyes. The events of the night replayed in her mind like scenes from a movie. They had been drawn together by an undeniable chemistry. Building up for weeks, months on end.

Their conversations flowed effortlessly, laughter always filling the air. Leaving each other longing for more without being able to say it. But now, in the quiet of the morning, a different kind of intimacy enveloped them. Y/N reached out to gently brush a lock of hair from his forehead, marvelling at the vulnerability that sleep brought. She felt a surge of affection for this man lying beside her, a feeling she couldn't quite put into words.

As Jensen began to stir, his eyes fluttering open, her heart skipped a beat. He smiled sleepily, his gaze meeting hers with warmth and tenderness. In that moment, everything felt right. They lingered in bed just a little longer before they finally rose to greet the day, facing the reality. Y/N knew that the memories of this night would stay with her forever, a reminder of the magic found in unexpected moments of connection.

Troubled with guilt she took a quick shower after Jensen had already freshened up. Seeing how he was already dressed, waiting for her to say goodbye. Y/N walked out of the shower with a towel covering her body. Jensen's eyes carried the same guilt like her.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. “I'm not sure… I enjoyed it, but…” He didn't finish his sentence. “I know, I feel the same.” He didn't understand why she would feel guilt. “Why would you?” - “I think as a woman, you need to have a code. Like don't sleep with a married man.” Jensen took a deep breath.

“Well, we have an open relationship… so guess that makes up for it… right?” Y/N didn't answer that “Jay… if you don't want this, if you regret it, if it makes you feel bad. Tell Danneel.” Y/N took a seat next to him in the bed. “You tell her you need monogamy, find a way to spice things up between the two of you. If that is what you need.” His green eyes looked in hers before saying “I don't know what I need. We tried so many things.” He sighs before continuing.” I thought I would feel terrible after, but I don't. I don't regret it, that is the problem.”

He took her hands in his “I want more nights like this. But you said you don't want that afraid of falling in love and I understand, you want stability relationship, but I can't give you any of that. Neither do I want to give this up.” “I just don't want to be a plan B or booty call or something Jay.” He nodded. “Can you promise me this… If you do ever change your mind, or you need a booty call.” They laughed softly “Call me please.” She kissed his lips in response. “Promise”

–

Jensen's footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as he approached the door to the living room. Danneel was sitting on the couch, a book in her hands, her expression one of quiet contentment. She looked up as Jensen entered, a smile lighting up her face. "Hey, you're home early," she said, her voice warm with affection.

Jensen felt a lump form in his throat as he met her gaze, unable to bear the innocence in her eyes. How could he face her knowing what he had done hours ago. He forced himself to smile, to feign normalcy, but the guilt threatened to consume him from within. Unnecessary since they had the deal but still, feeling guilty.

As the evening wore on, Jensen found himself drowning between regret and wanting more of Y/N. He longed to tell Danneel what happened. But scared she would have some stories to tell herself. By the end of the night, while the kids were in bed he found the courage to ask her. “So eh, did you… find someone?” He asked eyes still on the tv screen. “I did. Didn't meet up yet. You?” His heart stopped for a second.

“Yeah, she eh, she agreed. Does he live close?” Danneel pauses the screen. “I thought you didn't want to know.” - ”You're right. I'm sorry.” He kissed his wife's head before leaving for the kitchen. Breaking the awkwardness between them.

Jensen lays in bed, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a lead blanket. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but one face kept surfacing amidst the turmoil – Y/N's. Her image lingered in his thoughts, her laughter echoing in his ears like a haunting melody. As he stared up at the ceiling, Jensen couldn't shake the memory of their night together. The intimacy they shared, the passion that had ignited between them.

It was a stark contrast to the love he had for Danneel, yet in that moment, it had felt so right. Weeks went on. Jensen focused on being a dad before leaving again on press tours. He knew he would see Y/N again. Part of him wanted to see her, part of him felt bad leaving his kids again. Danneel noticed the strange behaviour in her husband but didn't think much of it.

Press tour

Jensen's heart pounded as he stepped onto the stage for the press tour, his mind still haunted by memories of Y/N. He had tried to push thoughts of her aside, to focus on his career and his marriage, but her presence lingered like a ghost in the back of his mind. As he settled into his seat, Jensen forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

But when Y/N walked onto the stage, his breath caught in his throat. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, her smile lighting up the room in a way that made his heart ache. For a moment, their eyes met, there was no anger in Y/N's eyes, no resentment or bitterness. Instead, there was a flicker of something else – kindness, caring, understanding maybe even lust? No, he had to misinterpret it.

As they began their interviews, Jensen found himself drawn to Y/N's presence, her easy laughter and quick wit a stark contrast to the tension that hung between them. They fell into a rhythm, exchanging banter and anecdotes as if no time had passed at all. But beneath the surface, there was an unspoken tension, a silent acknowledgment of the secrets they both carried. And as the press tour continued, Jensen couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were destined to cross once more.

In the quiet moments between interviews, when they were alone backstage, Jensen found himself drawn to Y/N's side. They talked of trivial things – movies, music, anything to fill the silence that hung between them – but underneath it all, there was an undeniable connection that neither could ignore.

“Are you doing the red-carpet thing tomorrow?” He asked her. “Yes, actually.” -” How about… would you like to accompany me?” That question stunned Y/N. “Danneel not going?” -”No, she's staying with the kids.” “Sure, why not.” She answered, Jensen felt his heart jump.

Jensen and Y/N stepped onto the red carpet, the flash of cameras illuminating the night sky like bursts of fireworks. As they posed for the photographers, their bodies almost touching but never quite meeting. Jensen couldn't help but feel the heat of Y/N's presence like a physical force. Her nearness sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a fire deep within him that he struggled to contain.

Their fingers brushed as they walked, sending electric shocks racing through his veins. He longed to reach out and touch her, to pull her close and lose himself in the warmth of her embrace. But he knew he couldn't, not here, not now, with the world watching their every move.

Until...

“Jensen hold her please!”

“Y/N can you turn closer to Jensen!”

“Jensen, Y/N over here! Closer. Please”

“Give him a kiss on his cheek!”

They were asking for it. The temptation was too strong to resist. Jensen found himself turning to Y/N, his heart pounding in his chest while his hand wrapped around her waist. Her hand on his shoulders while the other brushed over his. And as they reached the end of the red carpet he could feel his hand slip even a little lower.

Touching the curve of her behind, kneading soft. He looked into her eyes. Seeing how they had darkened softly bit her lip. Jensen pulled her in, his lips to her ear. "Would you like to get out of here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Y/N's lips curved into a smile, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I'd like that," she replied, her voice low and husky.

And with that, they slipped away from the chaos of the red carpet, disappearing into a back room of the theatre, their lips melted together desperately needing to free the passion that had been building between them for so long. And as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment, Jensen knew that no matter what the future held, he would always crave the touch of Y/N's skin against his own. “I missed you.” He said under his breath while he unzipped Y/N's dress before turning her back around and placing her on a table.

Legs spread while he lowered his pants. He kissed her hard and fast. The slow burning passion they had on their first night had spread into an open fire. His fingers dipped down to her core. Feeling how wet she was made him moan. “I don't think I'm able to go slow today sweetheart.” She bit his lip. “Then don't… take fast and hard.”

The table hit the wall with every thrust. Deep breathing became moans and prayers. They way Y/N begged him to fuck her could get him over the edge. Just by hearing her sweet voice. His thrust became uneven. She pushed him away so she could kneel in front of him. Taking him in her mouth.

“Fuck Y/N…” Jensen's head fell back. Holding her close, guiding her with his large hand. “Good girl. That's it…” He breathed, repeating when he hit the back of her throat. After their quick adventure they dressed back up and got back to the party.

Hearing Karl yell. “There you are! They want one with the cast, come on!”

The paparazzi needed on last shot before they could enjoy the party. Jensen stood slightly behind Y/N, his hand wrapped again around her waist. Pressing her close to his body. While whispering in her ear. “I'm not done with you yet.” Kneading her while she looked back at him, smiling mischievous.

–

Danneel sat at home, her heart heavy as she watched the footage of Jensen and Y/N on TV. The red carpet event played out before her eyes, each frame a painful reminder of the distance that had grown between her and her husband. She saw the way Jensen looked at Y/N, the longing in his eyes impossible to ignore.

She had known something was wrong, she had felt the distance between them growing with each passing day, knowing there was something on her husband's mind. But seeing it play out so publicly was a wound that cut straight to the core. She knew it was her idea to experiment but seeing how Jensen looked at Y/N reminded her of how he used to look at her.

And as the footage continued, Danneel couldn't help but wonder where it had all gone wrong. Had she been blind to the signs, too wrapped up in her own life to see the cracks forming in their relationship? Or had Jensen's heart already begun to stray long before she realized?

Maybe not even he fully realized. And did she just give him a push in the direction of a younger woman? Allowing him to feed the love he felt for another?

----

I really feel inspired writing this story. Might make a few more parts, let's see how their relationship evolves.

Please, let me know what you think! Feel free to like, share or comment. Make sure you check out my masterlist.

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i-love-tall-women-with-big-hats · 8 months

Text

The Yanderes of the Autumn Court

(Fall has finally 'fallen' haha, and I couldn't resist writing this. I'd say this is based on fairies, but I love cosmic horror too much to not add a wee bit of it...so I named them Alterkinder or Alterkind for singular (lit just German for 'Older Children' smh 😞) because this is my bastardized version of them.

To avoid the overuse of this made up word, I also call them the Fallen, the Autumn Court, autumn fae, or the Wither. If I say 'Yandere' specifically, I'm referring to the Yandere. Though it might seem like it, not all fair folk are lovesick in this world of mine, so the yanderes are one of a kind even compared to their fellow eldritch abominations.

Enjoy this cosmic fairy shit, loves.)

Content: original worldbuilding, stalking as courtship, unintentional cannibalism, kidnapping, necrophilia, eldritch monsters and their own version of love. Took inspirations from Hades and Persephone, but besides the kidnapping scene, nothing else.

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The Autumn Court.

Once the greatest of the Alterkinder, they bear scars from wars of ages past.

Nowadays, they are merely remembered as the Fallen, the Shadows of What Was. They were left to rot in the realm of ambers and russets, where the earth is too coarse and barren to grow much of anything.

As a result, the Fallen pride themselves on being resilient, persistent even at the face of hardship and humiliation.

Which is why for you, their mortal pet, it means rejection will never be an option.

Harvest Season

As patron deities of harvests and hunts, the Fallen treat courtship the same way a hunter would a promising prey. It's all a game to some of them. Whereas we mortals have dating rituals, the Autumn Court have what they call 'the Harvesting'.

Elder Fallen will know the season is coming before it even hits them. They will feel it in the breeze flowing through their hair, feel it in the slightest drop in temperature, or in the smallest change to their physiology.

The younger, inexperienced Fallen tend to fall victim to their basest instincts.

Should you find yourself the target of a Fallen's affection, and a Yandere one at that, just know that you will have until winter to dissuade them. Before the first snowfall, they can court you without interference from any other spirits besides those from their own court, so take advantage of it.

I wouldn't get your hopes up though. You'll realize the further more you read this what I mean by 'persistent'.

Finders, Keepers

It is a tradition in the Autumn Court that a fae must brand their chosen prey to prevent any conflict.

At this point, they will not show themselves to their chosen mortal just yet. Reasons vary, but for a Yandere, it's typically because their first priority is to let all the others know that you are theirs and theirs alone. They know just how heated territorial disputes within their court can get, and they'd rather keep you out of it as much as possible.

Though this tradition was founded to prevent any two autumn fae from fighting over the same prey, it isn't always respected. If the Yandere themselves haven't disregarded the brand of their fellow kin, then they are ensuring that nobody else would do the same. Realistically, that is impossible, but some of the more powerful members of the court could absolutely decimate anyone they think covets their pet.

From death by a thousand thorns to being mauled to shreds by their most vicious familiars, but I'll speak of their cruelties later.

How a Fallen chooses to brand their Darling is up to individual preferences.

Among the Headless Riders, their favourite method is to douse their target with their blood. Their human can scrub themselves clean, but little do they know, enough of it will still linger for any fae to notice.

Some are less dramatic and opt for something simpler, like runes and insignias.

I don't know about you, but the lack of blood make it a little less romantic...but that's just my opinion.

Pumpkin Spice and Apple Pies

After they have secured their ownership, this is when the true courtship begins.

Some Elder Fallen may still remember the magic of the Old Summers. They cannot stop the inevitable march of winter, but the chill won't drop any lower than is comfortable for a while just so they could see you wearing your favourite sweaters. Anythig to prevent you from wearing too many layers.

Some could even bless your lands with fertility to ensure a plentiful harvest for the local farmers in your area, or make it drizzle everyday should they see how much you like how it sounds against your windows.

But what can a young Fallen do when he doesn't have much power or prestige to his name?

A feast.

It isn't official, but any Fallen worth their salt must show they are capable providers. The Autumn Court as a whole not only finds pride in being survivors, but in thriving where their enemies thought they will perish.

Roast meat, your favourite desserts, and fruits you cannot name will all be beautifully arranged on your table regardless of how small it is.

But never ask what the meat is from. Don't ask what these fruits are either. The apples' flesh is red, bleeding, for a reason. You wouldn't want to know why.

The feast is simply a symbol of their dedication to you. The Yandere hopes that by showing you the fruits of their labour, you will believe them when they promise that you will never feel fear or hunger ever again.

Just let them take care of you.

The Reaping

At last, fall is coming to an end, and the Fallen are beginning to feel the approach of winter. The time has come for them to choose whether or not they want to keep you.

The Reaping is the last stage, and it is perhaps the most scariest thing the Yandere can do to you during the Harvesting.

This is because for many mortals, they wouldn't even see their suitor until this stage in the Harvesting. It's not like they could have known that the owl, falcon, cat, mountain lion, and fox that they have been encountering was just their secret admirer in disguise.

And as the wise of old said: "The longer the wait, the sweeter the fruit."

Knowing this, the Yandere would certainly abstain from talking to you just to keep the Reaping special.

It would be the first time they'll hear your voice directly being spoken to them, and only them.

It would be the first they'll feel the warmth of your skin and supple flesh, take in your scent and taste.

At last, they have you all entirely to themselves.

It all seems romantic...for the Alterkind. But for you, the first meeting is nothing less than a kidnapping.

Imagine the earth shaking out of nowhere. When you thought it was only an earthquake, the ground quite literally parts in half, and a great hole forms before you. Just as you try to even make sense of it, a great black steed leaps out. Its rider--of course it has a rider. It won't be able to wear the most noblest of accruements otherwise--simply whisks you away, back to which he came from. Your screams of terror will be ignored.

Every Fallen has their own unique love story, but if there is one thing common in all of them, it is that none of the brides were willing.

Zealous Protectors

Their defeat at the hands of the Summer Court and Spring Court had heightened something that every Alterkind has: possessiveness.

For one thing, having their home realm taken from them has made them deeply paranoid. Being stripped of all their wealth and power was like rubbing salt on their wounds.

As such, the Alterkind of the Autumn Court learned to be wary of anyone who so much as look at their possessions wrong.

The average Fallen are zealous in their guardian duties. Elder Fallen especially are known for taking their vows of protection seriously. After all, the memory of what they've lost is still fresh in their mind.

So optimistically, your devoted Alterkind was born several generations after that fateful war, but don't expect much improvement.

One of the most cruelest deaths whispered within the Court came from someone even they least expected.

There was once a prince of a quiet nature. Though far from a pacifist, his temper was not as tempestuous as the winter blizzard or thunderstorms of spring. He planted thorn berries within the belly of a spring fae, nurtured it until they grew out of her bleeding mouth and tore her stomach open.

All of this because she regarded his beloved mortal for longer than what he allowed.

Possessiveness runs deep in the veins of the Alterkinder, be they of autumn, winter, spring, or summer.

But you must know, the culture of the Fallen was built from humiliation, the detritus of their golden age act as its foundation. It nurtured them to become what they are now:

Jealous.

Possessive.

Vindictive.

Like Leaves in Fall

Ironically, the court that finds virtue in change and transition have some of the most...'inflexible' members.

You might think concepts often associated with autumn like decay and inevitability would make them more accepting of death, but alas. Once in a blue moon, you will hear tragic tales exemplifying just how much lower the Fallen Kinder could fall.

The Lovesick of the Autumn Court are just that; patron spirits of rot and inevitable death, unable to accept that even something immaterial and abstract like love can be taken from them.

They themselves can decay. It isn't unheard of for an autumn kind to slowly devolve into the very thing they are masters of. Their skin dries and peels like dried bark as their joints and bones go brittle.

They can grow lonesome.

It may hold onto the rotting corpse, too broken to acknowledge the maggots infesting its sludgy flesh, and imagine movements. In desperate hope, their decayed heart will jump as they think, "They're alive! They're waking up! I don't have to be cold and alone anymore!"

But once the Kind realize they were wrong, the grieving process starts anew, and they hurt all over again.

Their entirety withers. Their thoughts and memories may drift away. Their grasp on reality becomes just as lost as fluttering leaves.

'Reality.'

Where you truly ever theirs to begin with?

The Fallen Fae becomes bitter. Cold.

This cold bitterness grows and grows until it turns into something all-consuming. It will destroying whatever kindle was left in their heart, making it impossible for them to feel the warmth of love or hope ever again.

And so...they hold onto their Darling. A hollow shell of what their love once was.

In the shadows of the past.

Mind scattered in the wind like fallen leaves.

Ivies grow here.

In this cold dungeon of old.

Hush, for you will miss it.

The crying of the Withered.

#tw yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere monster #yandere eldritch #yandere fae #yandere cosmic horror #male yandere #yandere male

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nerdieforpedro · 2 months

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Part Six of "The Lake Between Us"

Gravitational Pull

Ezra AU x Seraphina (plus size OFC)

This fic is for those 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of all the food (sorry for making you hungry), implied sexual activity, Ezra is a softie, actual adult conversations (the humanity!), Sera and Ezra being sexy and cute (I very much enjoy these two - I'm also biased), two idiots (because they kinda are but it's good - I think)

Summary: Ezra and Seraphina are growing closer fairly quickly. Neither of them view this as a bad thing, but it warrants some conversations and a different kind of dinner.

Notes: Two more parts to go! I made use of a time skip. A good chunk of time passes in the part but it's to show the relationship progression for down the line. There's also two other interludes because of the story flow.

Main Masterlist/ Ezra Masterlist/ The Lake Between Us Series

Orbiting around each other for almost two months, it was surprisingly easy to fall into an exchange of their homes. Seraphina had opened hers first, leaving Ezra to do the same with his. Dinners were alternated as well: gumbo, stews, shrimp and grits, chicken and waffles and Ezra’s favorite that Sera made, jambalaya. He was fond of the sausage she used, letting the spices soak throughout the rice. The evenings became longer as they both lingered in each other's abodes.

Seraphina observed his bookshelves, one was filled with different first editions he’s collected over the years and the other had momentos and pictures from his life with Cee. A small child with cornflower hair smiled brightly in most of them as a younger Ezra held her, sometimes reading, other times sitting in a truck as they drove. His dedication to her upbringing was remarkable. He swears up and down it was just a promise he had to uphold.

“I keep my honor intact in areas where it matters most in life my dear Moonbeam. That is all it was and is.”

He can’t hide the small smile that appears each time he looks at her graduation photo. Nor does the gentleman hide how often his hands find their way to her hands, arms, and back. Not that his Moonbeam ever appeared to mind.

There were nights where Ezra would allow Sera to reveal different stories from career. He found it fascinating that a person could remain in the same profession for ten years. The changes she describes and the different facilities she’d worked in. The witnessed suffering, knowing there was little to be done for the patient or their family. The treatment of those in her profession and those associated with it. The physicality of what it means to perform different tasks and the skill it took.

Another two months of dinners brought the two of them closer together, learning about each other. Studying their bodies and sounds. There were times they parted, back across the lake, but oftentimes the nightly partners remained intertwined among limbs and sheets. Still having a drink before bed but not nearly as many. They were dulling each other's edges, making it easier to slip into their dreams.

There were occasions when they laid awake, wordless as the radiance of the moonlight draped both of their forms; they did wonder if they were awake or asleep. It felt like such a pleasant notion to have someone who understands by your side.

Ezra got a call that Cee was coming back down with her girlfriend Zora on a short break between the summer sessions. They would be in around four in the afternoon. He was supposed to have dinner again with Seraphina, it’s become a near nightly staple, even when she’d have her shifts at the hospital. Ezra had told her to turn on the back porch light if she was willing to have company. Sera always made sure it was turned on after she got home and showered. Even if she fell asleep on the couch sitting next to him, she always thanked him for coming after curling up next to Ezra.

While cooking for tonight’s dinner, the gentleman decided to make a bit more food. While putting some rolls in the oven, he called Seraphina to let her know.

“Good afternoon Sundrop. How is the day treating you?” A familiar giggle is heard over the phone, she’d told him that she’d be out part of the day with her mother. He heard her mother in the background asking if that’s ’the handsome man with the good ass gumbo’ Ezra maybe poked fun at Sera about that a bit, even after making the matriarch his bread pudding two weeks ago. Sera’s mother still called him that or ‘skilled with his hands.’

“Well. I’m going to finish shopping with her and take her home. Then I’ll be on my way back. How are things on your end?” Sera’s mother pinched her cheek and laughed, taking the bags with her. She put them in the car. He smiled, knowing that her mother likely did something to make her yell, “Ma!”

“Sundrop. Cee called and said that her and her girlfriend are popping down for about a week between their sessions. I’m going to pick them up and they’ll come back to the house.” Ezra set the timer for his rolls and checked his shrimp, still sautéing in the frying pan, not quite as brown as he would like.

“Alright. Did you want me to come and meet her? Or did you just want to spend time with Cee yourself?” Curious, what his answer would be and also to meet the fabled Cee. Ezra’s pride and source of joy. Was there room for her in his world? Or maybe not yet, it might be too soon.

“My dear, I don’t want to pressure you into meeting her. There will be other opportunities.” Ezra added some more butter, onions, peppers and some seasoning to the shrimp. “However, I am making plenty of food for you to join us tonight. If you wish.” Silence for a moment too long he feels. Things are too ambiguous. “Sera, it’s fine if-“

“I want to meet her, she’s important to you.” Sera’s mother protested being taken home wanting to eavesdrop a bit more, “I’ll call you again after I drop her off.”

“Of course. Talk to you then.”

Their conversation ended for now. It picked up again while Ezra was simmering the grits after finishing the shrimp.

Seraphina knocked on Ezra’s door. He answered in a white tank top, dark green apron and brown cargo shorts. He was barefoot with the fans going, it was too soon to turn the AC on, it was best to save for the nighttime. She walked in and brought chocolate cake she'd baked the night before and a fresh bottle of tequila. Following into the kitchen, Sera set the bottle down and placed a hand on Ezra’s back as he checked his pots.

“You know what’s important to me and that’s family. You were wonderful with my mother and she can be a handful. I don’t want to pressure you either. This is…” Pausing, she loses the words. Does he feel the same way that this is going somewhere? Is it really? They have just been rather casual about things with the exception of him meeting her mother. And maybe Sera mentioning him to her friends. Possibly only on her side she didn’t see it as casual.

Turning the heat down on grits, Ezra faced her head on. She looked up at him with the same honey orbs that held curiosity on the dock that afternoon. Now they held such trepidation. “This is something that’s been foreign to the both of us for quite a long time. A relationship, is it not?” Her flowing yellow dress appeared to glow in the artificial light of his kitchen. His hands found their way to her hips, where they tended to stay. “I would be overjoyed if you met Cee. Then she could put a face to the name of the woman I’ve been spending my time with and who has been helping me to sleep better. Giving me a bit more purpose.” Watching her face as he spoke, Ezra knew he may have said a bit too much, not unusual for him. He usually peppered it with innuendo to lighten things, but this wasn’t the time.

“I suppose you’ll tell me next I shouldn’t have been so wrought with concern.” Pecking his lips to keep it light, the wide smile on her face was evident. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be together like this but I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”

“I should hope not. And you had the same concerns I did. I just know what I feel as well. I do hope we’ll be at this for a while yet. You aren’t going to be rid of me, are you Sundrop?” The grin found among Ezra’s patchy beard drew Sera’s hand to it as it had before. Shaking her head, she kisses him again letting herself linger. An arm snakes around her back before he draws his head back to go for her shoulder, he'd rather have her neck or chest. Ezra makes sure to keep in mind that his charge will be here with them for dinner and not leave any marks on her body as he normally does.

“I’d be a fool to let a man like you go, .”

Before Ezra left to pick up Cee and Zora, Seraphina assisted him in cleaning the table before popping back to her house to freshen up a bit further. Both their bodies had become drenched with sweat and they’d need to change clothes. Ezra requested, however, that she not change her underwear and he wouldn’t either. Playfully slapping his arm, before capturing his lips once again, “Such a filthy scoundrel you are.”

“Since I am, will you help make me a new man by allowing me to see all of you again tonight? It can be wherever you like, as always, lady’s choice.” His hand cups her ass and squeezes. Keeping her near the door, not letting her leave quite yet.

“I think maybe I should. Since you’re such an honorable and changed man now. Let me go, I can’t be meeting Cee smelling of-“ Her laugh made him want to hold her longer.

“Neither of them would know anything about that type of smell, I hope. Besides, you smell divine.” Nuzzling into her black poofy tresses, he finally released her. “But if you must go. So be it. Remember my two requests, Sera.”

“I know. They’ll remain. Focus on getting those girls here safely please.”

“I can think of more than one thing at a time. See you back here tonight.”

They parted ways as Ezra tracked to pick Cee and Zora up and Sera washed up and dried out her dress. She’d keep the yellow dress on a bit longer. He was right, it did smell of him, not as strong as when she first came home. Having Ezra scent around her was as much of a comfort as it was a source of arousal. She needs to focus on the former for dinner tonight.

Seraphina was going to meet face to face with the fabled Cee, she was only a little nervous. Little did she know Cee was as well. When was the last time she was this invested in a relationship? Not since college and this one was certainly a lot more healthy. Sera felt she could have worded it better, but she’s been nervous about bringing it up, always was. Per usual, Ezra made her feel like her worrying was totally normal and so was how strongly she felt about him. If he were to pull away from her, she would just hold on tighter, hoping that he would feel the same.

Ezra was humming to a song he hadn’t heard in years, “Day Dreaming.” He laughed because the last few months has felt like consecutive pleasant dreams. He was sure he was aware though. Maybe this is what he should be doing and where he should be. As Ezra drove, he was more sure in comparison to even half an hour ago - even if she fell out of love with him, he would long for her.

Chapter Five

Chapter Seven

Interlude One

Interlude Two

Taste-testers of Ezra’s gumbo 🍤: @rav3n-pascal22 @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @bonezone44 @magpiepillsjunior @yorksgirl @gemmahale @missredherring @missladym1981 @alltheglitterandtheroar @megamindsecretlair @readingiskeepingmegoing @pedroshotwifey @tinytinymenace @inept-the-magnificent @vivian-pascal @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #nerdie fic #ezra prospect #the lake between us #Ezra prospect x ofc #Ezra prospect au

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fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic · 2 months

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Good Omens Fic Rec: Just Up the Stairs

On Valentine's Day, amidst the chaos of handling work and university deadlines as a mature student, Crowley seeks solace with his neighbour Aziraphale. As they share a meal, their long-standing friendship begins to unravel, revealing hidden feelings they've harboured for six months. It's a night that could change everything.

Length: 39,147 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, After Dark, Human AU, Romance, Fluff

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by foolishlovers, ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia

*Minor Spoilers* Today is Trans Visibility Day, and so I have finally gone back to a story that I have been meaning to reread for a while now! This is a beautiful, sweet, and tender romance story written by two writers and one incredibly talented artist who all have done so much to bring affirming and celebratory trans depictions to the Good Omens fandom.

In this story, Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors. Crowley is trans and an older student trying to finish his Architecture degree, and Aziraphale dreams of owning his own bookshop one day. The pair meet for weekly grocery shopping trips, where a shy friendship starts, and they bond over music together. As a side tangent, the use of music in this story remains one of my favorite parts. I just love human stories that let Aziraphale be a little modern. Their music selections were great, and I loved the atmosphere and intimacy it let them develop. Sharing music with a love interest just does something to my heart!! Anyway, these two have been shyly circling each other for months, but fate has something planned for them this year's Valentine's Day.

Warm and unabashedly romantic, this first date of theirs is sprinkled with moments of comedic interruptions. I love the cast of characters as their other neighbors, and the adorable Harry the rabbit. Anathema was particularly fun. These asides draw out their night, making sure that they keep spending it in each other's company but also gives them time to reminisce on their past encounters. This story is so full of promise and charm; they are going to have such a loving future together. It's the perfect Valentine's fantasy.

Most of this story is safe in public, however, the last chapter is not! That one you'll want to save until you can savor it. It's the gorgeous lovemaking between two people who have really grown to know each other in the deepest ways possible. This is such a great story!! It effortlessly flows between writers, and the art included made my heart pitter-patter every time. Especially the nsfw one at the end, that had me full on blushing over here! Settle in with your coziest slippers for this lovely story.

Read it here, fic by foolishlovers, ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia

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everlastingdreams · 4 months

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The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 41

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: In Saecula Saeculorum

Notes: Contains spice. 🌶️ I can't believe it's the last chapter. 😭

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. 🌶️!!!Spicy and smut parts!!!!🌶️. Slight redemption arc.

Special warnings: Scent-Kink. Foreplay. Unprotected sex. Consensual. Strong language.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +220K

Chapter: 41/41

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Perhaps it was silly, but you lighted every single candle that was in your bedchamber, the small flames were barely enough to see the room and it’s furniture. You took the figurine from the pocket of your vest and placed it next to the doll on your bedside table. Then you fished the nightgown from under the sheets where it was left that morning, it’s thin fabric would not offer much protection from the cold but a solution would be entering the room soon.

Your clothes were discarded into the wardrobe, the nightgown slipped on so easily and it flowed around your curves freely. In the back of your mind, you kept thinking of what you had agreed to. Never did you think you would ever wed, the idea was almost ludicrous. But now… now it felt so natural, so right to take the step. You were fidgeting with your fingers when the knock on the door came, your heart picked up it’s pace and for just one small moment your confidence wavered. You tried to beat that feeling down before it could grow stronger, it was just nervousness because everything was still so new.

You went to the door, slowly opening it, and ignoring how shaky your legs were. You peaked through the gap and saw those weeping eyes stare back at you.

“Hello…” There was not a chance that your smile didn’t give away your nervous state to him. He tilted his head a little to the side, eyes inquiring.

You swallowed hard and opened the door further, letting him in. He placed the promised bucket of warm water near the bed. The only thing that betrayed his own spiking nerves was his hand clasping and unclasping at his side a few times. Your eyes were drawn to it, to the shape of his hand and the form of his fingers, the strength with which it had often held you. When your gaze lifted, you found his own studying the way you were undoubtedly staring at him, a hint of a smile formed on his lips.

His eyes narrowed, smile growing, a teasing statement, “You appear nervous.”

Your chest felt full of air but none of it would release to let the wit out, a shrug of the shoulders would have to suffice. The Ash Man’s gaze lowered from your face, brow slightly arching as he took in the sight of you.

“Maybe I am.” It was unfair how much your voice was fighting your will to keep it steady.

He had definitely heard that tremor in your voice, he forced his attention on something else, the doll sitting beside the figurine on the bedside table was his chosen target. Lancelot picked it up again, the faint smile disarming as he looked down at it.

“Are you here to play with my doll again?” You jested.

“Not with your doll, no.” He flashed a grin.

Your mouth fell agape, an incredulous look send his way, “I beg your pardon?”

He grew a lopsided grin, to timid to face you after that bold statement. You walked further into the room, stopping a little away from him at the foot of the bed. He placed the doll down again, then took in your appearance once more, his gaze grew undeniably hungrier.

He took off his cloak and draped it over the foot of the bed, then stopped right in front of your nose. His hungry eyes flowed over your form, even as he circled around slowly and stopped behind you. He pulled you closer by the hips, his palm skimmed across your abdomen.

“I love how you look in this.” His mouth moved against the skin the nightgown left uncovered at your shoulder.

You felt the fabric move against your leg and realized he was bundling a side of the nightgown up. Soon your thigh felt the chill in the room. He kissed the back of your head, you felt the heat of his quick breaths on the nape of your neck. His fingertips grazed over your bare thigh and your breath hitched.

“Do you know,” He said softly, “how much I wanted to have you among those books back there?”

He left you to think of that whilst he kissed your shoulder.

Back in the library, he was astonished by his own self-control. It had crossed his mind more than once to put you on that table, instead of the book, and read every inch of your skin with his eyes, his mouth, his hands…

But the risk to be disturbed was far too great and only the heavens knew if you would even have agreed to it. Never did he think it would be like this, to have such improper thoughts that were so difficult to contain in the back of his mind. Never did he believe to be the sort of man to even consider such actions. You had awoken something that had been kept buried inside, and whenever you were near it rose to the surface and clouded his mind into an irresistible haze.

You bit your lip and leaned into him a little. “You have been very patient tonight.”

He hummed, hearing the playfulness in your tone, and made you turn to face him, “And you? Have you been thinking of this moment?”

Your nod in response came comically quick. Tentatively, his fingers skimmed over the fabric of the nightgown, until they began their work to undo the small knot at the neck that kept it secured.

“As lovely as you look in this, I will have to take it off of you.” He nodded to the bucket of water.

You gulped at the huskiness in his voice. He sought your eyes while slipping his fingers under the shoulders of the nightgown, the fabric slipped down your arms and bared you upper body. He helped it fall to the ground completely after it had stopped at your hips. The cold chill ran over your skin until his warm hands came to brush along the length of them.

“Alright?” He asked when seeing the slight shiver.

His arms wrapped you in his embrace, his body shielded you from the cold in the room. You hadn’t noticed until now how hot he felt, warmth was radiating from him.

As he warmed you up, he asked, “Must I ask Helio’s permission for our joining?”

He didn’t sound opposed to the idea.

“You didn’t ask permission for anything else.” You deadpanned with a grin.

“I prefer to not make you a widow so early.” He jested back, a pinch of genuine concern.

You leaned back and pecked his lips. “I will wed you, even without his permission. But it would be nice to have it.”

He shared the opinion, his gaze fell to your bare front. “I will prove to him how good I will be to you. I swear it.”

His hand moved from your waist and slithered it’s way higher to cup a breast, his head tilted to kiss your throat. “I will show to you tonight how good I’ll be.”

You suppressed a giggle when he began to nip at your throat, and neck, rather playful. “Promises, promises…”

“I always keep my word.” He breathed.

That wasn’t quite true. “You are literally breaking the vow you took while saying this.”

He was smiling against your neck. “I always keep my word to you.”

Your soft laugh filled the room. “You’d better. I want my husband to be truthful.”

He leaned back to see your face. “I want my wife to be content.”

With one step back, he broke away and saw how you moved your arms to cover yourself. It was mostly because of the cold chill that hanged in the room that you were still adjusting too.

“Fear not. I made certain the water I brought is warm.” He consoled, while undoing the belts of his jerkin.

The sight of him undressing helped warm you up rather quickly. He took the leather off, and then the shirt, placing them both near his cloak and making matters more fair. He came closer again, you met him halfway.

You weren’t going to let some cold air ruin the plans you had made. You noticed a small birthmark on his neck that you hadn’t before, and touched your fingertips to it. He studied your actions for a moment, chest rising and falling quicker, then he took hold of your hand to lead you closer to the bucket with him.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, eyes locking on yours.

You were trembling, this time with anticipation. “As much as you do.”

A spark went through his eyes, that boyish smile tugged at his lips. His breathing was uneven, as if he hoped to get just enough air to keep his lungs working. He swallowed the dryness in his throat away and reached into the bucket to grab the rag. Suddenly the wet rag was above your head and he squeezed, the water dripped down heavily onto your hair and made you flinch.

“You rotten knave!” You cursed, and tried to cover your eyes against the water. Another spark flashed through his eyes, the smack to his arm did not discourage him in the slightest.

Now that the excess water was out of the rag, he started. It was surprising to see how he took the task seriously. He began at your face, went carefully around and over your lips, making his way down your neck. That rag moved over your skin with precision and eye to detail. You felt like a book being read, letter by letter. By the time the rag was at your chest, you wanted to take it from him and discard it, too eager to grab him close.

Still, you stood very still. Even as the rag tickled down your sides, to your hipbone. He sank to his knees, moving the rag over your thighs, slowly the warm rag slipped between them and your hand flew to his shoulder for support at the contact. He was ever so patient and gentle, letting the warmth of the rag tease a little. His lips touched your abdomen lovingly brief. He rinsed the rag in the bucket and continued down to your calves, careful at the scar of the wolf’s bite. His mouth brushed over your thigh, and he gingerly held your leg.

The scent of you like this made desire hit like a kick to his stomach.

He was on his feet again, took the linen towel and began to dry your skin. For him, it was easily the perfect excuse to touch you. Then it was wrapped around your shoulders, the fabric hugging you, as well as him. The warmth of his chest heated up your back, the hotness of his breath took away the chill on your neck.

You reached behind, to cup the side of his neck while he nipped at yours. His firm grip turned you by the hips, you leaned in to kiss the small scar that sat on his chest, your hands greedily skimmed over his abdomen. Your bottom lip dragged over his skin to his collarbone, where you placed another wet kiss, not caring in the slightest if you behaved licentious. You wanted to taste him, to feel him shiver under your affections and bring him to the edge of that self-control he always had. The linen fell off your shoulders, he held you tight, touching the low of your back.

“On the… bed…” He could barely form the words through the haze he found himself in. “Get on the bed.”

It could have been an order, if it hadn’t sounded so desperate, almost pained. For a second you thought about giving a witty response, until you saw how the raw, pure, lust had overtaken the blue of his eyes. Your mouth crashed to his, tongue touching his lips. All you registered was that he had turned with you, the next second you found yourself on the bed. The chilly sheets were a great difference to the heat of his body that was already covering your own.

His knee was placed between your legs and moved so little just to create more space for himself. As his tongue searched for yours, he began to undo his trousers and soon they were discarded on the floor. Your hands didn’t know where to touch him first. His neck, his chest, the muscles of his back, you wanted to feel all of him.

His mouth slowed down as it moved across your skin, a sudden patience had taken over in him. You intended to continue what had been interrupted the previous night and reached down to palm him. He prevented your hand from getting anywhere close to his groin and pinned it down above your head.

“You will feel me soon enough.” He tsked into your ear.

You already had, his hardness had brushed against your inner thigh. His mouth moved along your collarbone, the touch of his lips increased the further down your body he went. His hand glided down the inside of your wrist and arm, and made you learn how sensitive the area truly was.

A pleasant tingling spread up your chest, to your neck, and down your shoulders. You couldn’t help the content noises and small gasps from flowing out. It only seemed to encourage him, spurring him on to flood your being with all he could give. He brought his hand down between your legs, stroking through the wetness with two fingers. He was sucking on the skin of your neck with fervor, it was a feverish mess of moans and increasingly strong need.

His hand was gripping at your hip, trying to bring you closer than you could possibly be. He was breathing hard, his thumb was circling exactly where it needed as he sank two digits inside with ease. You grasped a hold on his shoulder when he began to slide them in and out at a steady pace right away. A moan spilled out. “Oh… gods… fuck…”

He crashed his lips to yours at hearing the crude language. It still wasn’t enough to silence it when it spilled from your lips again, and the word rolled into his mouth, where it soon escaped him too. He knew then, that you couldn’t help it, and neither could he.

The knot in your core was winding itself up tightly, he was getting far too good with knowing how to work your body. It felt like such a desperate need to have all of him, but he was so focused on your sole pleasure. With the last bit of self-control you had left, you grabbed his shoulders, moving him up more. His movements halted, eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or even protest. The first thing you did was move a knee up against his hip, another push…

He read the silent request in your eyes and made you hook your leg around him, he rolled over, and by doing so got you on top of him. The pads of your fingers pressed into his chest, slightly grasping at him as your lips dove down to litter his skin with their silent confessions of love. His hands never left you, one skimmed over your torso, the other caressed your thighs and between them again.

“Oh… f-” You swallowed the curse, for a moment it brought you close to crying at the sudden pleasure it caused rippling through your bones.

He could see you shiver, feel you try to clamp your thighs together more to try and numb what he was doing.

“Does it feel that good?” He was genuinely curious.

How good must it feel for you to be moaning like this and looking close to tears? The thought that you were as desperate for him as he was for you made his mind spin.

“Uhuh.” You barely managed a nod.

Your mind and body were fighting each other when you took his hand and stopped it from bringing you to your release. He looked up a little lost, until you palmed him, positioned and brought him inside. A strong jolt went through him, his hands flew to your hips.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait.” You grinned down at him devilishly.

He was upright and locked on your lips instantly, a breath, “I don’t mind.”

You cupped his face and let him steal the air from your lungs, letting him replace it with the essence of his being. The kiss was intense, consuming you of time and place itself, for a moment nothing else existed. Your hips had moved almost by their own volition, he groaned into your mouth and drew in a sharp breath through his nose. Once they had moved, they didn’t stop their calm pace. The difference in being above him, was having more control, it was surprising how willing he was to give it. It was almost as if he was less hesitant to think of his own pleasure now that you were on top and reminding him of it. His neck was already flushed down to his chest, his skin hot beneath your palms everywhere they moved over him.

He had to break away from your lips, his breathing was heavy, he began to kiss your collarbone up to your neck and down again. The cold in the room was long forgotten, heat spread through your body and caused lightheadedness. His body started to meet your movements, and you had to hold on to his shoulders at the feeling it send into you. Your fingers laced themselves into his hair, massaging his scalp while you felt him leave a wet kiss against your throat. “I love you. I love you so, so much.”

The confession caused a strong reaction. A quiet gasp escaped him, a shiver made his whole body tremble. And then your back met the sheets again, he never even broke the contact between you. He took control again, quickly putting you under him. His hips rolled into yours, chasing what was being build together. It left your breathless, your mind a cloud.

His husky voice snaked into your ear, warm breath running over your temple. “I love everything you are, my sweetheart. Now and always.”

The lovely admission was yet to be processed, when he made another of a different sort. He said it just when he thrusted, slow and deep, “I love the way you look at me when I have my cock inside of you.”

You gasped, he grinned. This time he caught your hand before it could deliver the scolding smack to his arm, and he pinned it above your head into the mattress. His pace was beginning to quicken, as he held your hand down.

It was indescribable to be at his mercy and be rendered speechless by how good he was making it feel. Your eyes fluttered shut, head lolling back, surrendering to the feeling it was building. You felt his other hand return to tease, two fingers working together, circling and stroking until he knew where they were needed to draw the moans from you.

The urge to press your legs shut was building along with the tightening knot in your core. Your hand was finally freed, thank the gods because you needed to hold on to something as the overwhelming sensation was nearing. You held on to his arms, told him to keep going how he was going because it was just what you needed. He obliged, clearly close to his own release, but by the gods he obliged.

And then the knot in your core snapped loose. Stars exploded behind your closed eyelids, cries fled their constraints, your mind lost control over your body as the sensation coursed through your veins. He thrusted deeply once more and moaned lowly as his release hit him. The tense muscles in his arms relaxed, just like the rest of his body as it entered a state of bliss.

Shaking breaths of air filled your lungs slowly, you wrapped him in your arms, his head came down to rest on your chest after he withdrew himself. Silence enveloped you, and you listened to his slowly steadying breaths and found your own start to match. It wasn’t long before his lips trailed over your collar bone, working their way up your neck to your face. He kissed your chin before locking his mouth with yours, cupping your cheek ever so gently.

His stubble tickled your jaw. “I cannot get enough of you.”

“I can tell.” You tried to keep the giggling quiet. “You’re in luck. I cannot get enough of you either.

He gazed down into your eyes, a smile that bordered on shy curving his lips. You cupped his neck and kissed him, holding him close and hearing the content sound erupt from deep within his chest.

You broke away and bit your lip. “I think I will need that bucket and rag again.”

“And my aid?” He asked.

“That sounded hopeful.” You jested, a grin formed on your face.

He tilted his head.

The idea did sound nice. “Your help is welcome.”

His eyes squinted for a second, then the offer came. “I must admit, the effort of bathing you now could be pointless again.”

“Meaning?” You dared him to say it.

He opened his mouth to answer, but then it curved into a smirk. The answer became evident when he started kissing you again, with the same passion and fervor. Bathing would indeed be pointless, because neither of you were done for the night yet.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

It was the first time when waking up into his arms came without a certain rush to avoid being exposed as a couple. And you took your time just enjoying the earlier morning, his arm around your waist and his quiet calm breathing on the back of your neck. You turned around, facing him. He was sleeping so peacefully, some stray hairs falling over his closed eyes. It was irresistible to touch his hair, his face…

It took him quite some time to wake, it happened so calmly. A smile was forming first, his eyelids still heavy from sleep opened very slightly.

“You are not sending me out the door?” He sounded so content while stating it.

Your index finger traced the mark under his right eye. “No. We do not have to hide anymore. So, I’m enjoying my morning with you.”

He lifted himself up to sit upright, and was quick to grab you. You gasped when his first action of the morning was to kiss you so fierce.

“Gods.” You scrambled out of his grasp, giggling at how his greedy hands tried to catch you again. Almost did you fall off the bed to get away.

His eyes took you in slowly, the hunger in them appeared near instant, it took far too long before they reached your face. Your cheeks burned, and you quickly grabbed your nightgown off of the floor to cover up.

“Good morning to you too.” You grabbed the cloak hanging on the foot of the bed and tossed it in his direction.

Even when just awake, his reflexes did not fail him and he caught the cloak before it could hit him. The way you looked, bare in the morning sun, a divine vision to behold.

Lancelot put the cloak aside, laughing quietly, “My trousers.”

You watched him gesture to them and look at you inquiring. You tossed them at him next, and a laugh erupt from him in response.

“You are feisty this morning.” He commented, and saw you search your wardrobe for clothes to wear.

“If you are to be my husband, you should get used to it.” You shot him a grin.

He stood up from the bed, confident and bare, to put his trousers on. Your eyes had wandered briefly and he had caught you looking. Whatever he must have seen on your face, it had certainly stroked his ego.

He smirked. “I am going to ask Helio for your hand. Unless you object?”

You winced. “He might cut off your own for it…”

He approached while you began to put your clothes on, not to help, “Will you still wed me with one hand?”

You heard the amusement in him. “Without a doubt.”

He stole the bodice to delay you getting dressed. You stole it back after a brief struggle.

“I want to tell Percival. Before he has to hear it from others.” He said.

A smart decision. “Good plan. I do find it important that he is alright with us joining.”

He hummed in agreement. It didn’t need to be said that the boy’s opinion could potentially end this betrothal.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to tell my father of our plans first?” It would not be surprising if he feared a bad response.

“He would not appreciate it if I do not show the courage to tell him.” Lancelot said.

It was perhaps correct to assume that your father would react better if he knew the Ash Man showed the courage. “Alright then. Just know that I’m here for you. Whatever happens.”

Without asking, he helped you close up the bodice, often letting his fingers brush against your chest. You cupped his neck and drew him closer to kiss him.

“Get dressed, Ash Man.” You spoke against his lips, smiling.

It took him another moment to show the self-restraint and step away to do exactly that. A lifetime of mornings like these, was a beautiful prospect.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Stepping out the door of your room together did not go without a moment of awkwardness when Ser Florent walked past.

“Good morning.” The knight said to the both of you. Without a warning he leaned in and tugged at the hem of your shirt that had been stuck under the bodice, the fabric fell more neatly now.

“Uhm… thank you, Ser Florent.” You were a little amazed at how observing he was.

“You are welcome.” He said, then turned to Lancelot. “I would think you would have noticed that, considering you never stop looking at her.”

Lancelot let out a small breath, seeing how the knight was almost grinning. “Good morning, Florent. Have you seen Percival?”

He gave a nod. “I saw him run in the direction of the dining hall.”

Lancelot thanked him for the information, and before the two of you could walk off, Ser. Florent pulled your attention.

“Y/n. Colette has been speaking of you. Would you sit with her at breakfast? She would like that.” Ser Florent was asking so politely and full of hope.

You couldn’t say ‘no’ to that. “I’d love to.”

Ser Florent smiled at you, something he didn’t often do for others. Maybe the knight considered you a friend, you hoped he did. “I appreciate it. As you may have noticed Colette is quite shy, it’s good for her to have someone to converse with more often.”

You touched his arm amicably. “I look forward to getting to know her better.”

Ser Florent gave a respectful tilt of the head. “Lancelot, I was informed that I am to guide you through your duties as a knight until we know for certain that you will do well on your own. Is that alright?”

The Ash Man was a bit surprised by the news. “That sounds alright. Thank you, Florent.”

The knight bowed his head once more, and went on his way again.

“He avoids much conversation with the knights, but seems to enjoy conversing with you.” Lancelot said.

It was nice to hear it. “He’s kind. I like him.”

“As long as you like me more.” There was just a pinch of jealousy under the jest.

You sighed. “There is only one other knight you have to compete with. Don’t worry.”

His brows knitted together. “Who?”

“Squirrel.” You reminded him.

He drew a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Oh. Of course.”

“Oaf.” You said, and started to walk to the dinning hall.

He quickly caught up to walk along. And you found Squirrel not far from the dining hall indeed. Lancelot called out to the boy, beckoning him over and sharing a look with you.

“What is it?” Squirrel wondered why you were delaying getting your breakfasts.

Lancelot knelt down to the boy’s level. “Percival, I wish to tell you of my plans before others hear of it.”

The boy was more than happy to hear a ‘secret’, “What plan?”

How was it possible, that he was more nervous to tell the boy than he was to face the wrath of Helio?

“I have asked y/n to wed me.” He searched the boy’s face for any reaction, big or small.

Squirrel blinked a few times, then leaned back a little. “Have you gone mad?”

Madly in love, more like.

Squirrel looked up at you, pleading for the Ash Man. “He can be a bit daft. Please, don’t be angry with him for it-”

Lancelot narrowed his eyes at the child. “She agreed.”

Squirrel’s eyes darted between you and the Ash Man in disbelief. “What-… how?”

You snorted a laugh and turned to hide it.

Deep down, he knew the boy was just doing it to get on his nerves. It was perhaps Percival’s way of showing affection. And he could not deny that it did entertain him often.

He was patient with the witty boy. “Because she loves me, as I love her.”

Squirrel looked up at you again. “So you’re staying here right? With her, with us?”

Lancelot smiled at him, it was clear that the boy had still been worried about him staying at the fort. “Percival,” He placed a hand on his shoulder, “do not doubt your importance to me. I never wanted to part with you, or her. I am staying.”

“Won’t Helio be mad at you again?” Squirrel was concerned.

Lancelot squeezed his shoulder. “Let me worry about that.”

You knelt down too, taking hold of Squirrel’s arm “May I have your blessing for our joining?”

The boy looked at you and Lancelot, both on your knees to seek his approval. The nod from the child send a wave of relief through you and the Ash Man.

You pulled Squirrel into a tight hug. “Thank you, my Little Squirrel.”

Mirena’s voice sounded, and offered Squirrel the freedom he was trying to regain from your arms when you let go. “Such emotions so early in the morning, how come?”

Helio stood at her side, looking down at Squirrel with curiosity. You and Lancelot stood up from the ground, he held Squirrel’s shoulder and you believed it was for the unspoken support he was about to need. Mirena was smiling, blissfully unaware of the storm that threatened to come down on this peaceful morning. Squirrel seemed to sense the anxiousness in the Ash Man and stood in front of him, shielding him from Helio with his small frame.

Lancelot cleared his throat, looked at you once before locking eyes on Helio. “I asked your daughter to wed me.”

You drew in a sharp breath at the announcement. Mirena looked stunned, then her eyes went to her husband to see his reaction.

Helio’s voice was colder than frost in winter. “Did you now?”

Lancelot’s confidence wavered for only a second, he picked it back together and said, “Yes, sir.”

A chill crept up your skin when they let their stubborn nature match against each other.

“And why do you believe I would allow it?” Helio’s tone was firm.

“Helio.” Mirena tried to get him to control his flaring temper.

Lancelot tried his best to speak of it in a calm manner. “You love your daughter. You want to protect her, I respect that more than you might believe I do. Truly, I-”

Helio stepped forward and took you by the arm, “I will speak with my daughter of this. After all, it is her life and future this concerns.”

You couldn’t bring a word out and Helio walked off with you.

Two hallways of silence, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You dug your heels into the floor and made him stop. “Father. I know you are against this-”

He turned to you, grabbing you by the shoulders. “How can you be certain? Little Moon, how can you know he will not break your heart? Wait a while, if he truly loves you he will wait.”

Words failed you, you had never seen him like this. He was begging you to think about it, to wait.

“Father…” You kept calm, trying to be considered of his concerns. “Nothing is for certain, only the presence. And what I am certain of now is that he loves me, and I love him. I am certain I want to join with him.”

He pulled his hands away, composing himself, the agony in his voice remained. “When you wed, where will you live?”

Was he sending you away?!?

“I swore to Squirrel I would never abandon him, you cannot throw me out of our home!” Your voice raised a little.

Helio recoiled like it had physically struck him. “I will not discard my child!”

Relief washed away the worry. “Then why did you say that?”

“Because if I let him wed you, the Ash Man will have to consider this place his home. He is not riding off with my daughter never to return. You, and him, remain here. With us.” He pointed at the floor, making his point.

You found those terms agreeable. “I understand. I think he will agree to-”

He interrupted. “There is more.”

Oh…

Helio laid out his plans. “Listen well. I am not getting any younger. This place is all there is left of our clan. Someone should always be in charge, someone of the Dawn Folk. Ciro, bless the boy’s heart, is not suited for this task. But you are. And perhaps Lancelot is suited to stand beside you in this task with his experience. We have a duty to our people, to this court that carried the hopes of our clan. Stay here, with him, with us. Learn to rule this court from me and ensure it’s future. That is what I ask in exchange for my blessing.”

You were quiet for a while, processing what this meant. Helio’s eyes fell on something behind you and you turned just enough to see Mirena and Lancelot standing at a small distance.

Mirena pushed him forward a little by the arm. “Go…”

The Ash Man slowly approached, stopping a few steps away.

“My home is wherever she is.” Lancelot said. “If she agrees, I will be at her side and rebuilt what has been lost.”

He must have heard the terms Helio had laid out. But he had only just broken free of having to lead an army of Red Paladins, did he not wish for another life? One where responsibilities were not so heavy to bare.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, this would change the future. “Lancelot, my father is asking us to be in charge of this fort in time. Are you sure you want to do this? I will not force you into a life of duty if this isn’t what you want.”

Lancelot locked eyes with you. “I understand the choice I am making. And I understand why it must be made.” He looked around himself for a moment. “This place, it’s history, it cannot be forsaken. Your home, your heritage, you still have it. It can still be saved. How could I refuse?”

You quickly walked up to Lancelot and whispered. “You don’t have to do this just to please my father. He’s not Father Carden, he won’t-”

He silenced you by cradling your head all of a sudden. “I am not doing this for him. If this was my home, if these were my parents, my heritage… if you were asked to help rebuild what was lost of my clan, what would you do?”

You realized he was doing this not out of duty, but out of the love he had for you. It rendered you speechless.

His voice was softer. “Would you stand by my side?”

You were nodding, and quietly answered. “Always.”

He blinked, his gaze intense and full of devotion. It made you forget who watching this display.

Helio tried to sound firm, but it was audible that he couldn’t muster it. “That is settled then. Yes?”

Lancelot’s hands fell away, letting you answer the question for the both of you.

“We agree.” You faced your father.

Helio gave a nod of approval. “We will talk about this after a meal. We cannot fill our stomachs with romance.”

He walked in the direction of the dining hall again, only stopping to tell the Ash Man, “Treat her well. My legs may be getting slower, but no man can outrun an arrow.”

“Helio.” Mirena sighed.

“Father.” You scolded.

Lancelot reaction was unexpected, he smiled at him. “I swear it. Sir.”

Then Helio smacked his hand unto the Ash Man’s shoulder, and looked absolutely amused by the way he nearly jumped. “Good.”

Helio released him and walked away. Mirena was smiling at you widely.

“My Little Moon is going to have a joining.” She was delighted and came to cup your cheeks, pressing a kiss to both of them. “I cannot believe it. I still sometimes think I will see you run in here with your trousers full of mud from playing in the creek.”

You couldn’t say a word when you saw her become emotional for a moment. She was apologizing for the way her eyes were getting watery. You embraced her until it stopped.

She took a step back and looked at Lancelot. “Not many are brave enough to face my husband the way you have done now.”

Lancelot tilted his head down. “I will do what I must to stay with your daughter.”

Mirena hummed, then said, “Helio likes you. It does not appear so, but it’s true.”

He wasn’t sure on how to respond to that claim and only gave half a smile, a sign of hope.

You still wondered what her opinion on the matter was, “Father will agree to us joining. But will you?”

Her gentle eyes rested first on you, then on him. “The paladins, Father Carden, the Reaper… no one has been able to keep you apart. I believe it is your destiny to be together.”

It was true, the odds had not been in your favor, and still you and him had stood strong against it all.

“And with that in mind, I give you my blessing.” She said, then turned to Lancelot. “Although I doubt it would stop you if I didn’t.”

The Ash Man send his eyes to the floor, always surrendering to Mirena’s knowing looks.

“We should be heading for our breakfast, before young Percival takes our plates. We did send him in there alone.” She said.

You took hold of Lancelot’s arm. “Good plan.”

She gave you a secret smile and walked ahead, still she caught a glimpse of how the Ash Man leaned in and kissed your head whilst walking behind her.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Ser Florent had come to collect Lancelot right after breakfast, the knight took the task of guiding the newest knight serious. When evening came, and after you had read for Squirrel and Ciro until they fell asleep. You searched for your betrothed throughout the fort, but it was outside the curtain walls of the fort that you found him. He was sitting in the same spot as the night of the feast. You went to sit beside him as he watched the sea in the distance, the moon reflected on the water as if it was full of stars.

You sat down, not close enough to his liking because he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against his side. His nose was in your hair, inhaling a few times. You felt his heartbeat under your palm, it quickened just before he kissed your temple. For a while nothing was said, you held his arm around your waist.

“That was your way of asking my father for my hand?” You broke the silence and snorted a laugh at the memory of the moment.

He was chuckling. “It is harder to say ‘no’ to a statement, than to a question.”

Your shoulder bumped into his. “Oh, you think you’re so clever.”

“It worked.” He protested.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, fingers playing with the leather straps across his chest. “We’ll be ruling over this place someday. I don’t know if I’ll be ready when that day comes.”

He brought a hand up to massage the back of your neck. “Everything will be alright. You are far stronger than you might think. I’ve seen it. And if there are matters you cannot handle, I shall take care of those. We will do as we have been doing, work together.”

You nodded, it was hard not to think too much of the future and get anxious over things that didn’t even happen yet.

His hand was brushing over your abdomen. “A warm day of spring was a good idea from Mirena to choose for the joining.”

It also offered your father what he so wanted, some time to get used to the idea.

“By then, everyone will have processed the news.” You hoped.

He hummed. “And Helio might be less inclined to chase me with that crossbow again.”

A small laugh escaped you, before you could stop it. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you think he would ever left me borrow it?” He sounded like he was already dreaming of it.

“I would wait to ask him that.” You said. “For at least a year. Don’t tempt him too much.”

He chuckled. “I suppose you are right.”

You couldn’t stop grinning. “You already have his daughter. Don’t try to take his weapon too.”

His chuckle turned into a laugh. He pulled you closer again, moving some of his cloak over your form as well. It was a pleasant way to sit together like this.

His nose touched your temple, “The last time I tried to kiss you here, you turned away from me.” He recalled the moment he regretted. It often still caused him shame.

You lifted your head, your own nose almost touching his. “I don’t think I would have turned away if you hadn’t be drunk.”

That certainly surprised him. “No?”

You shook your head. “You are hard to resist.”

He tugged at your waist, smirking. “Then don’t.”

His hand came up to your face and his fingertips glided down over your cheek, he repeated the caress with the back of his fingers. You followed that advice and brushed your lips to his, and broke away two seconds later.

His hand was on the back of your neck quickly, a smug smirk dancing on his lips, “Think you can get away so easily?”

You furrowed your brows until his mouth collided to yours, a silent scolding for denying him what you were so eager to give. When his hand on your waist accidentally made you ticklish, your giggle made your lips break free.

He couldn’t stop gazing at the way you smiled.

“I need you with me. Always.” The confession fell from your lips so effortlessly.

Raw emotion flashed through his eyes, intensifying them so much that it was hard not to look away.

“My sweetheart…” He whispered, quietly.

Your lips reconnected and refused to part for the night.

The Hidden had been persistent since the day you met him, and now you were grateful for it. They had brought you together.

Two summoners, chosen by the gods themselves.

Two lovers, chosen by free will.

Two lives, to spend together as one.

And a love that was written down in a book on matters of the heart, to be read and spoken off for centuries to come.

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#the weeping monk #weeping monk x you #lancelot x reader #weeping monk x reader #cursed #cursed netflix #weeping monk #cursed lancelot #lancelot #the weeping monk x reader

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beesxrated · 3 months

Text

A Noble Exercise

Tav x Wyll wedding with some spice. 🪻

The wedding starts out with an orange sun just above the horizon. The house is buzzing with energy and excitement. You never get to catch a glimpse or hear anything about Wyll. As all of the preparations begin getting finished your palms start to sweat. After all your time fighting the cultists and your years in Avernus this is the most nervous you've been. All that time you had several friends and allies who knew exactly what you were going through and may have been going through the same. Now, however, it's just you and Wyll. Some of your friends are still by your side, but none of them are married, let alone in a long term relationship.

The long flowing sleeves of your dress begin to frustrate you as you try to keep your hands busy. You angrily throw the train over your shoulder and push the fabric up. You would be more comfortable getting married in your armor. Karlach bursts through the door at the perfect time. You were just about to change into your usual armor.

She grabs you with tears in her eyes, "You look so beautiful."

Her hug is extremely tight and you can't manage any words. When she finally releases you she sees how distraught you are. She immediately goes into Momma K mode. She brushes your hair and puts it out of your face. She tells you all the things she's heard about Wyll getting ready and how nervous everyone is saying he is. Hearing how Wyll is as nervous as you are, makes you feel a little less scared.

When the time comes you make your way down the aisle. Halsin agreed to marry the two of you. Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard agreed to walk you down to Wyll, seeing as you had no family left. Gale, Minsc, and Lae'zel stand next to Wyll. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion stand on the other side.

When you pictured your wedding growing up, you never imagined a vampire or githyanki being your most important people, let alone marrying a well-known folk hero. You'd always pictured a comment that had smitten you, made you feel as though you were some sort of noble. Wyll thought writing vows to each other would be more personal and fit the life you have and will continue to lead. It's another thing you never thought about when you were younger.

When Halsin finally reaches the vows it's your turn first, "I promise to dream with you, to build a family with you and to encourage you. I admire you. Simply because of your kind soul, tender heart, and positive mindset. I especially appreciate your endearing sense of humor. I am ever so grateful for your love and selflessness. In return, I offer these promises. I promise to always be your perfect dancing partner."

"Love is a word that is much too soft and used far too often to ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that I have in my heart for you. Falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. Everything in me recognizes your heart as my home and your arms, my shelter. Your youth may fade away, but your smile will always remind me of that time I first saw you in the moonlight at the teifling party." Wyll says it all so effortlessly. He somehow pours the love he has for you into every word.

The rest of the ceremony and kiss feels rushed and it begins to make your head spin. The party is about to begin and you have barely been able to sit down. The moment your lips parted everyone was pushed to the ballroom. You see the sun is just an hour above the horizon. Has the day really been that fast?

You and Wyll dance and meet all the guests, many of whom he knew growing up. The two of you barely have time to talk with lines waiting to congratulate you when you take a break from the dancing. Wyll's hand stays interlocked with yours and squeezes when he notices how tired you are.

When the party is finally over the moon is almost at its peak in the sky. You make your way to your room, Wyll follows close behind. You turn to him and he shuts the door quickly behind him. As he begins to strip you give him a pointed look. It's been a long day, you haven't been planning on any sort of extra curricular activity.

Once he gets down to his undergarments he sighs and flops onto the bed, "Do you need help with your dress?"

"Yes, I just..." You drop your arms to your side, "I don't have the energy to do... Anything..."

He jumps up and begins unlacing your dress, "I was not looking for sex if that's what you mean. It's been too long of a day. I just want to hold you, make you feel less stressed." He pulls the dress off your shoulders and falls to the floor, "I am happy to wait for morning, or however long it takes."

Wyll pulls you down to the bed and holds you close to his chest. With little effort the two of you fall asleep. In the morning you feel more refreshed and rested. Wyll is awake next to you, reading a book. You shuffle over and lay on his chest.

"Good morning, myn lykyng." Wyll smiles down at you.

You lean up and kiss him. As you try to pull away he follows you. His hand cups your face as he attempts to place the half read book on the table. But when you hear a loud thud you know he's missed. He follows you all the way onto your back. The tension between the two of you begins to grow as he kisses you deeply, placing his hips between your legs.

He pulls away quickly, "Is this okay?"

You nod before pulling his lips back to yours. The two of you agreed to doing nothing physical for three months before the wedding. It was hard, but it's not like you actually had sex with each other. You touched and that was about it. Not from lack of trying, but in the Hells simply touching was hot enough.

He pulls away and rips the remaining clothes you had on, off. His lips feel as hot as the Hells as they make their way down your stomach. His tongue pushes into you, his nose grazing your clit. He seems surprisingly good since he'd never done it before.

He begins to slow his movements and pulls away, "Is that good?"

"Yes." You laugh as he gets back to it.

You grip his horns to guide him to the right movements. He's a fast learner and soon you're holding on for your sanity. He pulls away for a few moments, kissing your thighs. His teeth graze your skin. He continues kissing your tights and up to your hips, causing you to beg.

"Wyll." You moan and try to redirect his head using his horns, "Please."

He smiles into your hip bone before plunging back between your legs. You see him moving more than he was before and he groans into you. You pull at his horns asking for more friction. Wyll pulls his face away and climbs you. He rubs against you, letting you feel how aroused he is through his underwear.

He drags a hand down his face quickly, places a kiss on your lips, and pulls off his underwear. You admire him kneeling in front of you before he pushes himself forward. It's slow and slightly painful as you get used to him. When you finally start taking pleasure from him he quickens his pace and strengthens his thrusts.

Wyll keeps his lips locked with yours as it all comes way too quickly to an end. He pulses inside you and you feel shaky under him. He holds himself above you, not wanting to collapse and hurt you, he slowly falls onto the bed next to you.

Wyll breaks the silence, "I like when you grab my horns."

"Oh?" You smile at him, never expecting him to enjoy that.

"I don't know how to explain it. It feels nice."

You reach over and stroke the smooth horn. He shivers at the touch. You wish you would've known before, it seems like a good way to tease him or even give him some sort of pleasure while he pleases you. You let your hand fall down and brush his hair from his face. He's let his hair grow out and curl. The curls extenuate his horns and for some reason you find it very attractive. In fact the aging he has done in the past few years has made him far more attractive to you. Nothing looks bad on him.

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cactuswaterscactusfields · 7 months

Text

How Many Moments Are In Forever?

I went to Galaxy’s Edge at DisneyWorld recently and got to meet Vader, and he was so scary and intimidating that I just had to put it down into words. But also spice because of Helmets. This is kind of a continuation of Him., but it’s not reliant on Him., so you don’t need to read it to read this. Also, Anakin’s face doesn’t get Mustafar’d, but he wears the helmet to help him breathe, just so that the reader recognizes him. Bless his heart.

After the Chancellor commanded the clones to execute the Jedi, your master, Anakin, sent you away in an escape pod, bound for Mustafar. He told you he’d come to you, but when you witness him and Obi-Wan duking it out, you’re forced to escape. Will this new Lord Vader show you mercy? Or will he break his promise to you and execute you like the younglings?

Warnings: Angst, Smut, trauma, Order 66, peril, a short bit of a happy ending. Is Anakin still having a face/hair canon compliant? I don’t know. No beta we die like the younglings.

crossposted here on ao3 All characters depicted are 18+.

So sorry it took me so long to get out. Hope you guys enjoy, and once again thank you to Cilantro and Rio for peer pressuring me into finishing it.

There’s blood on your skin, ashes on your hands, your forehead, staining your vision and future. Where is he? He said he’d be here. He’s never lied to you before. He’s always been there. He sent you to this hell, this planet, and told you you’d be safe there. Just wait for me , he whispered into your ear, placing a warm kiss on your lips.

You can still feel it. His soft, chapped, gunsmoke lips, carrying the weight of the world, pressing against yours, worried, gentle, loving. He had looked down at you with those ocean-blue eyes, filled with worry, and gently buckled the strap of your seat, tight around your torso. You had stared at him, silently begging him not to send you away, but he stepped back and shook his head, smoke rising from the temple behind him.

Your head hurts, so, so badly. It’s throbbing, sharp, like a part of you has been ripped out and stomped on. What is this feeling? Where is he? Where is your master? Maybe it’d be best if you just slept, if you just went away, if you just…

Two black durasteel boots step over the forgotten, discarded plates of a destroyed door. Soldiers without names in white armor step aside, as the black fluttering cape brushes past their bowed heads. Those in his wake look up, seeing shining black plates in place of eyes, a mouthpiece sounding out the last song they'll ever hear--a song of pain, of death, of violence, of labored breathing, and ashen lungs. You can’t tell who it is. Are you one of his victims? One of his soldiers? You’re staring up at him, impossibly tall, impossibly strong. You can sense his signature, but it feels..wrong. Artificial, like someone took a once healthy signature and slashed and cut and slashed and cut until it was nothing but ribbons, and then stitched and stapled it together, a horrific chimeral amalgamation of what it was.

He turns to look at you, those eye plates staring right into your soul, and you know who it is, oh maker, what happened to him? He raises that scarlet blade, humming with energy, and raises it to slice at you, the red glinting off his helmet, you can see his eyes, yellow and red, oh maker he’s swinging, so quickly, so painfully, and—

You snap awake, the molten and ashen air greeting your abused throat and lungs. How long were you asleep? How long were you unconscious, unaware of where he could be? Is he here? Did he leave you? Is he gone? Who was that man, with the massive scarlet blade, why did he feel like your master? What happened to him? Where is Anakin?

You finally look around at your surroundings, the landing space having been cleared due to the powerful downward-facing thrusters of your ship. There are what look like lava falls flowing down distant spires and mountains of charred rock, and the black sand on the lava bank next to you is being lapped at gently by a flowing molten river. The atmosphere here is thick, angry, with..you can feel it in the air, burning hatred and sulfuric power, as if darkness has festered in this place for millennia, for longer than you could imagine.

Mustafar.

You’ve heard of this little moon, once lush and vibrant, like Naboo or Alderaan, but the Sith (or something, Master Kenobi wouldn’t tell you when you inquired further) corrupted it, leaving it charred and hellish.

You can see glowing blue blades in the distance, dancing across a thin beam of metal in front of massive waterfalls, and you immediately know from that aggression who it is.

Ani.

You stand quickly, before watching as he leaps toward the shore of a riverbank, and the other blue blade slices up, impacting and cutting through his legs—

You have to go. You have to go. Something is very wrong and you need to leave right now. You can’t tell what it is, can’t tell who is forcing you to leave, can’t tell if the force or your own gut is telling you, but you need to escape right knifing now . You smash your hands into the buttons, desperately trying to get the small ship to activate, and it slowly lifts into the air as the overhead cover closes. You feel the engines roar as it begins to send power to the hyperdrive, and you’re pushed back, further, further, and you leap. The bright whistling lights of the stars racing past greet your eyes, and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Maker, he’s dead. And you left him to die. You didn’t save him.

What have you done?

When he needed you most, you left him. This man who has given you everything, gave you a home, gave you knowledge and instinct and love and pleasure, gave you happiness and a place to stay when you had nowhere else to go, the man who saved your life from certain death, was left to die on a shore of fire and lava by the woman who should have loved him more than anyone else.

Wait.

That vision, that dream you had. What did it mean? What could it possibly have meant? That man, maker you hope was a man, felt so much like him, so much like the one you love, does that mean he survives? You don’t know. You hope so, but that red blade…

Does Anakin become a Sith?

The drunk man crashes down next to you, thrown by his partner. You look over at him, taking another sip of the disgusting pisswater they have the nerve call spotchka. At least it’s liquid. You take a deep breath, before looking back at the current bar fight going on over, what you’re pretty sure, was a game of sabacc gone wrong. Your mind wanders back to that day on Mustafar, the last time you saw him. How did you even find yourself here, this shithole known as Tatooine, a worker in a bar, cleaning after hours and giving your…unique clientele their drinks. At least it’s out of the way.

The empire has been hunting Jedi, with Darth Vader at its helm, and you’re at the top of the list of bounties they’ve got. You don’t even know how many credits you’d fetch now, but it’s got to be enough to buy a waterfront property on Naboo and never have to worry about working again.

Not that anyone has the balls to take on a former Jedi. You’re fully aware of what your people can do, and bounty hunters usually leave the Jedi hunting to inquisitors. Sometimes you catch eyes, though. Through the crowd, brown-robed men with vibrant blue eyes that you swear you’ve seen before, with familiar tired lines and sandy brown beards, before they disappear through the crowd. It’s better not to gather. Better to stay separate, silent, and alone. If you’re caught, you at least won’t know the location of any other Jedi.

Almost as if on cue, you can hear the stomping of stormtrooper boots, as they flood in to break up the fight. Your hand immediately tenses to your side, before lowering. Of course, your lightsaber is hidden. You don’t have it out anymore. It’s still on you, but if someone were to see it, you’d be arrested and sent to… indoctrination before you could even blink. They pull the two men who started it apart, both soaked in their and the other’s blood, and other patrons immediately back up to their seats, avoiding the troopers. Everyone here has bad blood with the empire. It’s part of living here, in the outer rim, staying well away from their gaze.

Something’s wrong. Of course, it is. Your mind immediately goes to finding an escape route, finding some way to get out of here, but the black fluttering of capes freezes your train of thought. You’ve done this before, you can do this, you can get out of here. It’s just like the last few times, you’ll be able to get out, right? You’ve smelled this stench before, this stench of death, of hate, of malice, of eradicating the only life you ever knew.

Inquisitors. Looking for you. You step back from the bar, and their heads jerk toward you, quickly vaulting over the counter, spilling your spotchka. You narrowly duck under their arms, before slamming the back door of the bar open. You dodge around stacks of supplies and long-expired bills and spotchka, dodging around your now very confused boss, and you finally see it, the exit door, the door to freedom, the door that will let you escape from them, and you shove it open—

Black, dark black boots. A red and black cape, with a glinting dark helmet blinding you in the desert sun. Three inquisitors? You’re important. You draw your blade, its color gleaming off their armor, and you slash at them in a wide circle, blasting them back with a quick wave of your hand, before shoving past the one in the doorway, praying you stunned him, praying to the maker you successfully escape—

A hand wraps around your tunic, yanking you back, and a needle jams itself into your stomach. A strong, black leather glove holds you tight, pulling you back, and pushing you down, further, further, until you’re crushed against the ground, like a stone under thousands of tons of pressure at the core of some far-off planet.

As your vision fades, you see the helmets glinting down at you, dangerous, nightmare incarnate. Shouting around you becomes muddled, indistinguishable, a hundred or a thousand voices speaking, screaming, yelling, it’s all the same, what are they saying…? Everything’s fading, you can’t see, can’t think…

Kriff.

His hand wraps tight around your throat, pulling you back into him, his strong, sweaty, muscular chest pressing itself into your shoulder blades. He pulls you back further, panting hot breath against your ear, and he slams himself deep into you. How long have you been at this? How impossibly long have you been like this, being ruined by your–

Your mind freezes as his free hand travels from somewhere near your head, gripping the sheets, down your body, down, further, further, before gently touching your nub and rubbing sweet, sweet, nuclear circles into it, freezing your mind every time he slams his cock into you again and again and again.

His stamina is infinite. How many times have you already come? How many times has he brought you over the edge of that divine cliff, tossed you off, and he hasn’t leapt once? Your wandering mind rips back to reality once again as he pounds once, twice, three times, you’re so close, running, sprinting, a blur of light against an impossible sky, before you take that olympic leap.

You’re frozen. His hands, paused, his cock, an immovable force against an unstoppable orgasm. And then he–

You’re thrown from your dreams as your head collides with the metal plating of what your drug-addled brain assumes is a cell, and you’re left alone for a moment. You were just in his arms, just with him, just curled soft and warm underneath him, protected, why are you here?

Where are you? How long were you asleep? Why..why is there so much noise? It hurts your ears, so loud, so sudden, so angry, like metal ripping and tearing and cracking and shattering, breaking as if the world is made of glass and your ears are hammers. From the indiscernible noise, you can almost hear alarms, something akin to an emergency..why is there an emergency? It’s shaking your skull, shattering your bones, making your brain feel too big for your skull, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, maker it hurts,

And it stops.

Silent. You can hear nothing except his voice. His. Voice.

It’s Him.

Standing in front of you, staring down at you, his black durasteel eyes reflecting hell on earth, reflecting a person you don’t recognize, is that you? How could that be you? When were you covered in blood? When did you have such scars, such exhaustion painting circles under your eyes, thinning your cheeks, hollowing your sockets? What have you become?

“....Padawan.”

He was thinking the same thing. The world is frozen around you, and for once, nothing else matters. Nothing except him. He runs his black-gloved thumb across your cheek, but it’s cold. Artificial. Alone. Where did the warmth go that he had? Where is the comforting star within your void of life?

Where did the man who would do anything for you go?

“...Ani?” Your voice sounds hollow, far away, like you’re hearing it through a window.

Awful, artificial breathing greets your ears. Plastic, metal, durasteel, and bacta tubes scrape across your eardrums, like nails on the chalkboard of your soul. He stares down at you, his breath almost catching in his throat. Does he even have a throat anymore? Is he the man you fell for, the man you adore?

He lowers his hand slowly, before tilting his head and murmuring a short, simple command in a voice you’ve never known yet always loved.

“Follow.” And with a whisk of a cape, he’s walking away, leather boots thumping against the metal grate flooring. You quickly stand to follow him, and stormtroopers flank you on either side, their rifles held to attack at any moment, to gun you down like the thousands of innocents they’ve killed.

You follow your former lover down hallway after hallway, a maze of industrial lights and alarms and troopers sprinting past as the floor, walls, and ceiling quietly shake. You try to run to catch up with him, but his strides are so impossibly long, he’s so impossibly tall, that you’re cursed to inevitably follow behind him, never able to get to him. Just like Mustafar.

He finally turns what feels like the tenth corner, and you see a massive hangar with ships, pods, and craft of all kinds whirring about like some kind of dock hell. He walks over to a sleek, black ship, where troopers in strange black durasteel uniforms salute quickly, and climbs up the ramp. You lower your head as a rifle presses into your back, and a trooper’s voice sounds out behind you.

“Follow Lord Vader.”

Lord Vader? Is that what they call him? Is that what he calls himself? Is that who he has become? Some…lord of evil? Some lord of darkness, like a Sith? You’ve never heard of anyone besides the most powerful Sith being called Lords, is he that twisted, that corrupted?

Your mind snaps to reality as your legs quickly hurry up the ramp, and it closes once you’ve made your way into the small ship. There’s a simple cot against the wall, a few simple crates with various articles of clothing, and then there’s Him. Leaning against one of two cockpit chairs, he stands there staring at you, before reaching up towards that horrible, horrible black helmet, and pulling.

Anakin.

His fluffy blonde hair, now with a few silver streaks through it, is slightly pressed to his forehead above two… yellow…? eyes, his familiar scar across his eye drowned out by the massive burn across his cheek. Dark circles line his undereyes and his face..it’s so, so tired, so weary…

“I..thought you left me..I…” You stammer, the correct words hiding from you like flitting ghosts in a swirl of blazing, burning fire. How is he here? How is he alive? He sets the helmet down on the seat behind him, before stepping toward you, striding closer, closer, he’s so big, so intimidating, so tall, you step back, further, further, your back is pressed against the wall, he’s so close, right up against you, and…

He kisses you. But to say that would be disrespectful to the love, to the passion you feel. His lips press against yours, like two halves of a whole finally reuniting and sealing, bonding together as if telling each other that they will never, never separate again. His hands wrap around your face, holding you, his thumb rubbing your cheek, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, so small against him. He presses further against you, one hand sliding down to your shoulder and pulling your neckline down, and his lips trail slowly down your neck, before he latches onto the muscle, and he bites.

You squeak in pain as he removes the hand on your face and begins to shed his armor, dropping plate after plate after durasteel plate onto the ground with clangs. He’s left in nothing but a tank top and simple cloth pants, and the full extent of the pain he went through is revealed, missing both arms and both legs up to the thighs. You push him back for a moment, and he stares down at you, silently questioning.

“What happened?” Your eyes fill with tears as you scan the damage, gently running your hand along the seam of his larger prosthetic arm. You always knew he was missing one hand, but never his full arm. Never..this. Maker, how much can this cruel universe take, and take, and take, and take, and expect him to live as he has been?

What kind of life is this, to live for nothing at all?

“....I’m not living for nothing, padawan. I have you.” He gently takes your chin, letting out a small cough, and tilts it up to face him, the skin around his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiles softly. Right, he can do that. He can read your mind. You smile weakly up at him and–

You’re thrown into each other as the ship rocks violently, and more alarms blare outside as you’re reminded of the predicament you’re in. Immediately, he focuses while holding his arm out and your fall is slowed down as you land on his chest. He stands quickly, his arm holding you tight against his chest, and he takes your face in his hands again, coughing again harder.

“Hold onto something.”

He turns to the cockpit and quickly throws himself into the pilot seat, before flipping switches and levers and knobs as if he’s done this a thousand times before. You quickly hurry to the front of the ship, sitting down in the other seat and strapping yourself in, and his hand gently lands on your thigh, holding you as he presses the throttle forward, the ship lifting slowly before leaning and soaring out of the collapsing imperial star destroyer. He presses a few more buttons, and the ship shudders slightly before launching into hyperspace.

“Aren’t you a servant of the emperor?” Your voice wobbles slightly, and he sighs softly.

“I’m done. With it. With everything, padawan.” He coughs, his shoulders shaking slightly, and he groans in slight pain before looking over at you.

“The emperor would have you killed or tortured. I’m not letting him ever get to you again.” He says your name, soft, warm, whispered through a broken man’s voice, whispered through years of suffering and longing, loneliness and pain. He smiles weakly, and gets up slowly, holding his hand out as the buckles of your seatbelt undo themselves.

“I have missed you, so, so dearly. Ever since that day.” You stand slowly as he speaks, and he looks around.

“And I have not forgotten what we started earlier.” His nostrils flare with desire, before he pushes you back, back, back, until you’re against the ship wall once again, and he growls as he clenches his fist into your tunic, before pulling his hand back and tearing. He looks down at your bare chest with adoration, before grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the cot, bouncing slightly as he lifts his own shirt off, revealing burn after burn after burn across his still well-muscled chest, and he walks toward you.

Your whole life, you’ve felt at least somewhat strong. You may not be the biggest, the tallest, or the strongest, but you’ve been capable. You’ve never felt true fear for your life…until now. As this predator, this chosen one, this Sith draws closer, you feel like a dewback being stared down by a massive Krayt Dragon, with rabid hunger and malice in its eyes. He smiles that familiar fanged smile, before leaping onto you, and you can’t help but let out a squeak as he grabs and squeezes everything he can get his hands on.

He grinds against your still-covered core, and his hand finds your waistband before pulling and pulling until you’re bare before him, an art piece before a destroyer.

He leans back for a moment to admire you, before climbing down slowly, staring up at you as he comes closer, closer, closer, kissing his way down your stomach, running his hands along your soft inner thigh, and he stares at your entrance before leaning down and kissing your clit.

Maker, it’s like you’re being touched by a god, like your very self is being held by divinity. He begins to rub sweet, sweet, beautiful tight little circles into your nub with his tongue, and his fingers trail along your inner thigh before finding your entrance and pressing.

Oh maker he’s thick, stretching you out so perfectly that you can’t help but cry out and cover his fingers with your sticky sweet nectar. He begins to slowly rub into your core, his fingers fluttering gently, and you let out gorgeous little whimpers, whining as he kisses your clit again, and again, pulling back for a moment as his fingers begin to speed up.

You haven’t felt this good in years. You never could find it in yourself to try to pleasure yourself, your mind too preoccupied with thoughts of stress, fear, worry, losing the tight grip you have on your force signature to remain undetected, the pain of losing the people you love and grew up with, and the pain of not being able to find Ani.

But here, but now, his fingers pressing further, further into you, pressing against the spot that makes you squeal, you’re finding it so hard to think.

Maker, he’s so big, too big, you’re practically soaking his fingers, you can feel the band begin to tighten as he licks, and licks, and licks, tighter, tighter, tighter, tighter, so much impossibly tighter, the pressure building,

He stops, pulling his fingers back. Silent. Empty. Empty. Empty. His face pulled back from you. It’s agony, pure, unfiltered, suffering, your body desperately clenching around emptiness, searching for the pleasure it had, searching for the beautiful full feeling, and as he stares down at you, that malicious smile so carved into his face, you can’t help but cry slightly, welling salty tears filling your eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, beautiful. I’m not done with you yet.” He crawls over you, his massive chest dwarfing your body, and he plants his elbow above your head before pressing his mouth against yours, so warm and soft and wet and inviting, with the softest hint of salt on his tongue.

He reaches down with his free hand and slowly unzips his pants, before pulling his cock out, and the sight of it just about makes you cry. It’s so big..so perfect, so adored, so… and he pushes.

Maker, if you thought his fingers were big, this is going to break you in half. He presses further, stretching your tight walls apart, before his cock kisses your core gently, and you gasp softly, grasping onto his hand as your chest begins to heave up and down. He pulls back out slowly, his cock rubbing against the soft walls of your center, and then he slams.

Maker, it’s like you’re being smashed by a jackhammer. He pulls and pushes and pulls and pushes, the most beautiful grunts dropping from his breath like flower petals, and you can’t help but sob his name like it’s a prayer like it’s the only word you’ve ever known. He grasps the sheet above your head, growling, and continues slamming himself into you, your bodies rubbing against each other like beautiful friction defining the universe. He forces your mouth open with his tongue, fighting yours for control over your very soul .

Maker, how is he speeding up? How is he so strong, so good, so fast, so hard, the pressure is building like explosions you can hear noise, whose voice is that, is that you? You can’t even tell, you’re so close to that explosion, the pressure is so bright, so tight, so fiery, you’re so overwhelmed, you’re so close, and then it snaps.

You’re like a star, with planets circling you, and you supernova. An explosion sending out across the universe, your force signature flaring bright with a rainbow of colors you couldn’t hope to comprehend, could never hope to understand. Wave after wave after wave after perfect, indescribable wave rush through you like oceans upon oceans upon oceans of desire, your mind’s so gone it’s like it was never there in the first place, you couldn’t even give your name if you tried. There’s a ringing in your ears, your fingers feel so foreign, so tight, they feel androidish.

He’s still pounding, still going in and out and in and out, you can hear words like Padawan and Love, and without knowing what they mean, you know that you’re loved, for the first time in so, so damn long. He’s sliding in and out with far more ease than before, like your body is expecting, needing him and his warmth.

Padawan, I’m close. Is that his voice, is he speaking? He’s so fast, so deep, so perfectly inside you, so perfectly yours, that the answers to the questions never mattered in the first place.

He jerks a few more times, shaking, and from somewhere far away, you can feel something warm, something hot, something blazing like fiery liquid fill you. He slowly pulls out, smiling, and flops down next to you, panting slightly, and he coughs again. He slowly throws his arms around you, lazy and exhausted, and pulls you tight against him, your legs still numb, core still shaking. How many seconds are in eternity? How many moments measure forever? You don’t know, you’ve never known, you could never know in the first place. But whatever the answer is, you’d be willing to spend the rest of your feeble little life with him, seeing him, knowing him, loving him. Maker, you missed his face, his voice, his smile, everything about you. He watches you, those unfamiliar yellow eyes boring into yours, and for a moment, it’s like there’s streaks of blue, blazoned deep into them, like cracks in a dam about to break open.

“I missed you, Padawan.” He gently runs his thumb along your cheek, the mechanics of the arm creaking and clicking.

“I know.”

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