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#and i can't seem to do that on demand much as i try
angelltheninth · 2 days
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Cooper Howard Tells You How to Touch Yourself
Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, masturbation instructions, dom/sub dynamics, praise, teasing, fingering, clit stimulation, innocent1Reader
A/N: More of the scary hot cowboy man.
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He may have not touched a woman in a long time but he knows how to make one feel good. "One as pretty as yourself deserves to feel great when she's touching herself." Your hands are clumsy, fumbling as you push your pants and underwear away. "Good, now spread it open."
You're taken back by his request but you set your legs further apart. "Like this?"
"No, not legs, your pussy, I want to see how badly it wants the cock that it can't have." And you don't seem to know as many things as he does either judging by your eyes widening at his dirty. "What, don't like the way I talk, eh sweetheart? You're gonna get used to it. There are far worse guys out there than me. I'm being good to you, showing you how to feel good."
You're a sweet, innocent little thing for him to corrupt, how damn fun. "I know about it. But I've never had someone watch me do it." You defended yourself, feeling the moisture pool around your fingers as his deep eyes scanned over your naked body.
Cooper hates that he can't touch you, his hands are itching to grab onto something. "You don't know anything about real pleasure. But I can tell you do know how to follow instructions. Means you're gonna be a good girl for me." He leaned in close, his face close to yours. "Start with two fingers, I want you to whimper."
He demanded, almost like he knew you always started with one. Two, the middle and the ring finger, slid in slowly, your lip pulled between your teeth at the tight warmth.
"Damn, I can near hear how tight that hole is. You wouldn't be able to take my cock the way you are now. Finger it open for me sweetie." You try your best to follow his orders but your head is spinning at having him this close.
"I want you." You whimper but know better then to touch him anywhere other than his clothes. Your Hand fists into his shirt, "Tell me, please tell me how to feel good."
Cooper huffed out against your neck, "As much as I like hearing them sloppy sounds your cunt makes... pull your fingers out, rub them around your thighs, get all that juice around you." Your pussy already missed the fullness, "Not to worry, there are better ways. I think your clit needs some attention too, don't you agree?"
Your fingers immediately flew to rub that spot, fingers curling from your entrance to your clit, "I just need you." You kept panting as your body snapped upwards, moans broken and clit so sensitive your hips jumped every time you rubbed it. "I want you to fuck me."
He chuckled, "Of course you do. Well, maybe some day we'll figure it out."
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thewulf · 1 day
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Loving You is Easy || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - What about a jake seresin x reader. Of course jake has a reputation but he truly is in love with bartender reader, so finally he wears her down to a date. They go to a nice restaurant and reader still has has her gates up but she’s slowly realizing who Jake truly is WHEN not one but two of the girls jake hooked up... Read Rest Here
A/N: Another one for my fav cocky pilot. Hope you guys enjoy :)
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Word Count: 3.2k +
T/W : None just fluff
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The clink of glasses and the low hum of the late-night chatter fills the air at The Hard Deck, a place that's become your nightly retreat amidst the demands of school and work. As you finish up your shift behind the bar, wiping down surfaces and stacking glasses, you're acutely aware of Jake Seresin's presence. He's become a regular when you worked. His charm was well-known and his flirtations a constant undercurrent whenever he's around.
"Another evening of mixing drinks and dodging offers, Y/N?" Jake teases while watching you with an amused smirk as he plays with his empty glass sitting in front of him.
Playfully, you roll your eyes at the man who had become a constant in your life. "Just counting down to graduation," you reply. Keeping your tone light even as you avoid meeting his gaze too directly. You've heard stories about Jake, enough to keep a polite distance.
"How about celebrating a bit early? Let me take you out. A real date, not just bar banter that I know you love so much," he proposes while leaning over the bar slightly trying to catch your eye.
You hesitate but you had your response ready. "Jake, I really don't think mixing work with... whatever this is... would be a good idea."
"Just dinner," he presses. But his tone was sincere. "No expectations, no strings. Just two people enjoying good food. Come on, what do you say darling?"
Despite your reservations there's a part of you that's curious. The persistent part that wonders if there might be more to Jake than the rumors and his reputation. After a moment of internal debate, you find yourself nodding, slightly surprised by your own decision.
"Okay, one dinner. Only If it’ll get you to shut up about it" you say with a small smirk adorning your face finally meeting his gaze. "But, Jake, it's just dinner. That's it."
His face lights up with that well-known charming smile. "Just dinner," he agrees while raising his hands in a mock surrender. "You won't regret it."
As he leaves you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and apprehension. You've maintained your boundaries yet you're stepping into new territory. It's just dinner you have to remind yourself. But as you turn the sign to 'closed' and lock up for the night you can't shake the feeling that it might just be the start of something unexpected. But you tried not to get your hopes up. It’s just dinner.
You step into the upscale restaurant. The ambiance immediately wraps around you. It’s intimate and inviting with its dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Jake stands from a secluded table as soon as he sees you his smile bright and welcoming. "You look absolutely beautiful," he says sincerely before pulling out your chair and taking his own seat.
"Thank you," you reply feeling a faint flutter of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. The effort you put into choosing your outfit seems to have paid off and his notice of it warms you.
Once seated, Jake’s attention is all on you. He turns his phone off and places it face down on the table. A clear sign that this evening is about the two of you. "I remember you mentioned once you loved champagne, particularly the one from that small vineyard in France," he says, signaling the waiter. With a knowing smile he orders a bottle of your favorite champagne, not missing the surprised and pleased look on your face.
"How did you remember that?" you ask as you were both impressed and a bit bewildered. No guy had ever taken the time to remember the small details about you. And here Jake was wooing you already, five minutes in.
"I pay attention," he replies with a shrug that seems both casual and a bit shy. "Especially when it comes to things you like."
The champagne arrives and as Jake pours you a glass his demeanor is gentle, his movements deliberate. You clink glasses with a grin on your face. The first sip is just as you remembered—crisp, with a hint of sweetness, perfect.
"So, tell me about school," Jake prompts you seemingly genuinely interested. "What’s been keeping you busy?"
You share details about your latest projects and the challenges of balancing school with work. Jake listens intently, nodding and asking questions that show he's truly engaged in what you're saying. It's easy to talk to him and you find yourself relaxing more than you expected. The initial walls you had up slowly dissolving in the warmth of the conversation.
Turning the focus to him you recall the pieces of conversation you've picked up at the bar. "I’ve always been curious, Jake. What’s it like being a pilot in the Navy? It must be quite different from anything I can imagine."
Jake's eyes light up with a mix of pride and nostalgia. "It's intense and challenging, but flying is incredible. There’s nothing like the feeling of being up there… the freedom of it, but also the responsibility. Every decision matters. Not just for me but for my crew and everyone we support."
"It sounds amazing," you say with a hint of awe in your voice. "I’ve actually never been on a plane before. Can you believe that?"
Jake looks at you with an incredulous gaze. "What? You've never been on a plane? I’m changing that, darling," he declares with a playful but determined grin. "We’ll have to fix that soon. There’s a whole sky up there waiting for you."
As the evening progresses you laugh together over shared anecdotes and discover common interests. The connection feels real, unforced, and for a moment, the outside world with all its complications seems to fade away.
The evening had been progressing beautifully with laughter and shared stories flowing as freely as the champagne. You were beginning to see a side of Jake that was earnest and deeply attentive. A stark contrast to the playful banter at the bar. It was easy to forget the outside world in moments like this.
However, just as you're settling into a comfortable ease the first ripple of discomfort appears. A waitress approaches your table with a familiarity that instantly feels intrusive. She's all smiles, especially towards Jake.
"Jake, I didn't know you were here tonight!" she exclaims. Her voice a notch too loud for the intimate setting. She's overly friendly, touching his shoulder briefly as she speaks. Her eyes never leaving his acting as if you weren’t even there.
Jake's response is measured. His smile polite but restrained. "Hey, Sarah. Good to see you," he says, his tone neutral. He quickly turns his attention back to you trying to minimize the interaction. "Sarah used to work with me on base," he explains briefly hoping to dispel any rising concerns you might have.
You nod trying to smile, but the unease settles in your stomach like a stone. The moment is fleeting yet it lingers uncomfortably as Sarah finally moves away, her eyes lingering on Jake a moment too long.
Before the atmosphere can fully recover another beautiful woman approaches your table. This time, it's someone who's dining at the restaurant. Her approach deliberate as she locks eyes with Jake. Her presence is poised when she speaks. Her voice is tinged with a nostalgia that makes you shift in your seat.
"Jake, it's been too long," she says, reminiscing about a shared memory that clearly meant something to both of them. "Remember that weekend at the lake?"
Jake nods. His expression tightening slightly. "Yeah, that was a good time. Hope you're doing well, Rachel," he responds keeping his reply short and devoid of any warmth that could be misinterpreted. He glances at you with a flicker of concern crossing his features as he sees your discomfort.
"I'm sorry about this," he murmurs to you under his breath. His hand finding yours on the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let’s focus on our night."
Despite his attempts to steer the evening back on course the interruptions have sown seeds of doubt. You appreciate Jake's efforts to reassure you, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes—he genuinely wants the night to be about the two of you. Yet, the encounters with his past make it increasingly difficult to ignore the reputation that preceded him. You find yourself wrestling with the warmth of his present attention and the shadow of his history.
As Jake continues to engage you in conversation, attempting to salvage the remaining warmth of the evening, you're left to ponder whether the burgeoning trust between you can withstand the challenges of his complicated past.
The mood at the table shifts palpably following the interruptions. Jake, noting your discomfort, adopts a more subdued tone. His usual easygoing demeanor tempered by the situation. “I can tell this isn’t easy for you, and I’m really sorry about that,” he says, his voice earnest, his gaze meeting yours with a steady sincerity. “I’ve had my fair share of casual things in the past. That’s not something I can undo, nor would I expect you to just overlook it.”
He takes a deep breath before continuing. Clearly choosing his words with care. “But I want you to know ever since you started at the bar, something was different. I haven’t felt this kind of way about anyone else in a long time. If ever. Honestly, I haven't pursued anyone else since you came around. You’ve sort of... monopolized my interest.”
His admission is frank, devoid of any veneer. It's just him being open and hopeful, sitting across from you. “I hate that my history might be making this awkward. I really like you, Y/N. I’m here tonight because I want to be here with you. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you who I am at this moment in my life.”
The words linger between you straightforward and clear. It’s a lot to take in. His past is a part of him but the man before you now seems earnest, seeking something genuine with you.
You pause letting the weight of his words sink in. His hand reaches across the table, not to impose but to offer a gesture of connection. In response you extend your own hand, sliding your fingers between his, locking them together as a silent acknowledgment of your willingness to see where this path might lead.
“Thank you for being upfront with me,” you respond. Your voice calm and thoughtful. “I appreciate your honesty. Let’s just see what happens, no pressure.”
Jake’s face softens, a gentle smile forming as he senses the tension easing. “No pressure. Sounds perfect,” he agrees with hope in his voice matched by the warmth in his eyes.
As the evening ends with the complexity of real-life weaving through your initial impressions you find yourself intrigued by the possibility of discovering more about Jake, beyond this first, eventful meeting. The evening with all its ups and downs, winds down as the restaurant begins to empty. You and Jake exit into the cool night air. The city lights casting a soft glow on the street. The tension that had built up inside seems to dissipate slightly with the openness around you.
As you walk together Jake's demeanor is reflective and he keeps a respectful distance that speaks to his understanding of the evening's emotional rollercoaster. Yet, his presence is reassuring, a quiet strength in the uncertain night.
"You know," Jake starts, breaking the silence as you both stroll towards a quieter part of the street, "tonight didn't go exactly as I planned. I wanted it to be perfect for you. To show you that I'm not the guy people might say I am."
You glance at him noticing the earnest furrow in his brow. His next words come slowly, measured but clear. "But maybe it's good that it happened this way. You saw everything—the good and the not-so-good. I don't want to hide anything from you."
You stop walking instead looking at him directly. His green eyes are sincere, reflecting the streetlight's soft luminescence. It's in this moment with his gaze unwavering and his stance open that you feel a shift inside you. The doubts linger but there's something about his honesty tonight that tugs at your willingness to explore what might be between you.
"I need things to go slow, Jake. Really slow," you say. Your voice firm yet not without warmth. "Can you do that? Can we take this one moment at a time?"
Jake's response is immediate. His nod accompanied by a gentle smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way. You're worth waiting for and I’m not going anywhere. I want to prove to you that I’m in this, really in this, for you."
There's a promise in his words, not just spoken but felt. You both resume walking and as you do, his hand finds yours, a simple touch but filled with intent. You interlace your fingers with his as a silent agreement to his proposal of taking things slow allowing yourself to feel the potential of what could be a new beginning.
As you walk further the city noise fades into the background, and a comfortable silence settles between you. It's not the fairy tale whirlwind. It’s real, it’s tentative, and it’s new. But it's a start. And for the first time in a long time, you feel a cautious optimism about the path ahead. The night ends not with grand gestures but with a quiet acknowledgment of something that might grow given time and mutual effort.
In the weeks following your first date your relationship with Jake blossomed beautifully against the backdrop of everyday life. Each shared moment from spontaneous coffee dates that extended into long or unplanned conversations to leisurely evening walks under a starlit sky, deepened your connection. The ease of laughter and the depth of discussions revealed layers of each other’s personalities and dreams, drawing you closer in ways both profound and delightful.
As the days turned into weeks, your phone became a constant companion, buzzing with Jake's texts that often stretched into late-night calls. These weren't just brief exchanges; they were rich, lengthy conversations where you found yourselves diving into everything from your favorite books to your deepest fears and aspirations. Jake remembered the little things you mentioned—like your love for mint chocolate chip ice cream or your dreams of visiting Greece—and surprised you with thoughtful gestures that showed just how much he cared. It wasn’t just what he said but how he listened and responded that made you feel truly seen and appreciated.
With each passing day, the shadows cast by Jake's past seemed to fade, overshadowed by the genuine warmth and steadfastness he brought into your life. His consistent effort and the undeniable sincerity in his actions slowly dismantled the walls you had built around your heart instead allowing trust to seep in and fill the spaces between your doubts.
So, by the time you found yourselves laughing together on his couch, enveloped in the comfort of a lazy Sunday afternoon the words that had been quietly taking shape in your heart felt ready to surface. The day unfolded effortlessly, each moment layered with shared smiles and unspoken promises, steering you gently toward a revelation that seemed both thrilling and inevitable. This wasn’t just another pleasant day. It was poised to become a defining moment in your relationship where feelings long simmered might finally find their voice.
The afternoon sun casts a warm, golden light through the windows of Jake’s living room, bathing the cozy space in a tranquil glow. You’re both nestled comfortably on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs with a lighthearted romantic comedy playing in the background. It serves more as a backdrop to your own laughter-filled conversation than as entertainment.
Jake is in the middle of recounting yet another of his infamous escapades at the base. This time involving an unintentionally hilarious mix-up during a training exercise. His storytelling is animated, his hands gesturing wildly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and joy.
"And then, I accidentally broadcasted the prank over the PA system, not just to the squad, but the whole base!" he exclaims, bursting into laughter at the memory.
You can't help but laugh along his delight was terribly infectious, his joy utterly palpable. "Jake, you're unbelievable. You always find a way to make everything so fun," you say. Your voice tinged with affection and amusement. The warmth of the moment, the closeness you felt with him, it all feels so natural. So right.
As the laughter subside you look at him with a big grin on your face. And without thinking much more the words on the tip of your tongue just slip out, "You crack me up, Jake, I love you so much." The moment the words escape your heart skips a beat as you realize what you’ve said, your eyes widening in surprise.
Jake's laughter stops abruptly. His expression shifting as he processes your words. There’s a beat of silence, heavy with significance, before his face breaks into a tender, wide smile. He looks at you. His eyes were shining with a mixture of happiness and something deeper, more earnest. "Wait, say that again," he says. His voice low and husky, filled with emotion.
Feeling a rush of courage by his encouraging gaze you repeat your words, "I love you, Jake." It feels even more right the second time. The words resonating between you, filling the space with their profound simplicity.
Jake's response is immediate. He leans in, closing the distance between you with his hand cupping your face gently. "I love you, too. I’ve been hoping to hear that. Was wondering when it would be right to tell you how I feel," he confesses. His thumb softly stroking your cheek. "I’ve been holding onto these words, afraid to say them too soon, but feeling them every day."
"Really?" you whisper. Touched by his sincerity and the depth of his feelings.
"Absolutely," Jake replies with his gaze locked on yours, intense and full of affection. "From the way you laugh to how passionate you are about your studies, from your kindness to others to your strength in handling everything life throws at you. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."
He draws you closer and you find yourself wrapped in his embrace, his warmth enveloping you. "I wanted to tell you on our third date," he admits. His voice muffled as he speaks into your hair, "but I thought it might scare you off. Now, I just want to make up for lost time." He chuckled squeezing you tighter.
The room feels charged with a new energy. A new understanding as you both bask in the glow of shared love. The movie continues to play, unnoticed now, as you and Jake talk and laugh. The conversation meandering through dreams, hopes, and plans for the future. Each word strengthens your ever-growing relationship. Each moment deepens the love that now openly defines the two of you.
And as the sun sets, casting long shadows through the room, you feel a profound sense of contentment. This isn’t just a fleeting romance. It’s the beginning of something lasting, grounded in mutual respect and deep affection. You lean against him with your head on his shoulder, heart full, as you both enjoy the quiet comfort of knowing you're exactly where you're meant to be.
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thevoidstaredback · 5 hours
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"If I turn around and there's a hero, vigilante, anti hero, villain, anything or anyone related in anyway to the Justice League, I'm going to fucking lose."
It was quiet for a second, then, "Don't turn around?"
Red fucking Robin. "What did I just say?" Phantom turned on his heel to face the young vigilante.
The kid threw his hands up, "I told you not to turn around!"
"And yet here we are," he crossed his arms. "The hell do you want?"
"You seem awfully snippy today."
"Seeing as you and everyone under the sun has been stalking me, trying to get answers to questions I'm not going to answer, I think you can excuse my attitude."
With a huff, Red Robin also crossed his arms. "How do you know what I'm going to ask if no one else has been able to talk to you?"
"Because living beings are all the same. Curiosity of the unknown drags you around by your ear." Phantom turned back to continue walking away, "Now go away."
The kid matched his pace. "No way,"
His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I have a meeting soon, kid. You can't come along." That was a total lie. He had nothing going on that demanded his attention now that Constantine had ditched him after getting the demon under control. Maybe he could drop by Fawcett and visit Billy?
"No you don't." This damn kid-! "You've been wandering aimlessly for the past hour."
Phantom turned again to face the vigilante. "First of all, stalking people is hella creepy. Second of all, my schedule is none of your damn business."
"Careful there, kid," Red Robin smirked, "You'll get scolded for having a potty mouth."
"I'm thirty-fucking-eight!"
"You're literally fourteen."
Phantom closed his eyes. "Nocturn give me patience," he then looked Red Robin directly in the eye, "We've had this conversation. I'm dead. I don't physically age. That doesn't change the fact that I have walked this planted for thirty-eight years. Is that simple enough for you to understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?"
Red Robin blinked, his mouth agape. What? Did he just- The nerve! The audacity! "I'll have you know," he huffed, "I'm smarter than Batman."
"He tell you that himself?"
"Yes." It was one of the only times Batman had ever praised him, so that interaction was held particularly close.
Phantom looked Red Robin up and down, his expression reading both 'are-you-serious' and 'what-do-want?-a-medal?' Without a word, he turned back to his path and began his march anew. Any attempts at conversation from Red Robin was ignored, much to the younger's chagrin. Maybe he'd go away if he ignored him long enough.
Phantom and Red Robin wandered for the better part of an hour, not so much as a word passing between them. Neither stopped for any reason, and neither broke the set pace. It could almost be considered a friendly stroll through the city, if one ignored the slight apprehension surrounding the two.
Red Robin took this time to observe Phantom. He'd never spent too much time around anyone from the JLD who wasn't Raven, so he took the opportunity to get to know another on the team.
Phantom insisted that he was thirty-eight, not fourteen, and that the reason he looks as young as he does is because he looks like he did when he died. Not a comforting thought in the slightest. He knew that, though, when B had briefed him on all the members of or associated with the Justice League.
His powerset was almost completely unknown. They'd all seen him use a flight/levitation ability, as well as some form of density shifting and a healing factor, but Red Robin was more than sre that Phantom had more up his sleeve than that. He worked as a part of the JLD team, so he had to have some magical understanding or capabilities. But Raven wouldn't tell him if she knew, no matter how much he pestered her.
Looking at the kid now, Red Robin seriously wondered if Phantom had a civilian disguise. Ether white hair, toxic green eyes, the glow he seems to give off, and the contrasting bright white and vantablack suit and gloves he wore could not be easy to hide.
There was also a slight sense of unease Red Robin felt when looking at or being around Phantom for a long time. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was as obvious as a neon sign. It was a strange mix of Uncanny Valley and sinking horror. Why was he feeling like this?
Phantom stopped in his tracks in a dead end alley. Without turning around he said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?"
Red Robin hesitated for a moment. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Was Phantom really going to answer his questions? He shook his head to snap himself out of it.
"Come on, kid," Phantom pulled a piece of chalk from his front pocket. "I don't have all day."
Red Robin wanted to scoff because he most certainly did have all day. But, he pushed it aside. He was about to get answers that not even the Justice League could get! He decided to start of easy. "When did you die?"
"Try again." was the growled response.
"What?"
"I said 'Try again'."
Okay, okay. Touchy. "Why'd you join the Justice League?"
"I was bored." It was clipped. Phantom's on edge. Why?
"What're the rest of your powers? I know you have more than what you've shown everyone."
Phantom walked to the wall and started to draw a door on it with the chalk. "Next question."
Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Fine. How did you die?"
Every movement from Phantom froze. Every minute, involuntary twitch, even the telling signs of breathing. For a long minute, nothing happened and Red Robin had the dawning sense that he'd just asked something he really shouldn't have.
Phantom drew a circle in the rectangle he'd drawn on the wall, completing the door. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice that you seem to have completely glossed over." The piece of chalk was hidden away as he gripped the now 3D door handle. "If you value your life, don't ask the dead how they died." He opened the door and stepped through before looking back at the red clad vigilante. "They won't be so nice about it." Then, the door closed and the chalk erased itself.
Part 6
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I think it's going to go the way all of their IG "tours" go.
why do you think they're trying to frame it differently to their other tours? it's not the first time they travelled abroad
and do you think it'll be a success in the way of half-in half-out?
In a way, it's more of a recruitment trip for them and I suspect it's a bit of do-or-die, make-or-break kind of a trip.
If you look at their prior travels, it's all been "done deal" trips, where all they really had to do was show up. The Hague, Dusseldorf, and Vancouver Invictus Games were set up before Megxit (Hague and Dusseldorf definitely, less confident on Vancouver but the timeline kinda lines up for some sort of ancillary support from the BRF) using BRF/Royal Foundation staffers and connections to make the arrangements.
(ohhhhhhh god I just actually read the IG press release (archived link) that came out this morning. Harry announced the shortlist finalists for the 2027 Invictus Games. It's Birmingham UK and Washington DC. I cannot, you guys. I cannot be waking up to the Sussexes on my local news, in my local papers, on my social media algorithms.)
Anyway, this is the first time that Harry has really had to work to recruit hosts for Invictus Games. He started last year with a mini-trip to Japan but my feeling is Japan gave a big fat NO because they didn't send anyone to compete in Dusseldorf and then almost right away Harry started love-bombing Nigeria. First by becoming their groupies at IG. Then sending period products and school supplies to Nigerian schools. Now having negotiated a trip. (And these trips don't just pop up at the last minute; this is something that's been in the works for quite some time, especially since the military seems to be involved.)
Now consider this article from The Express, which reports that at least 2,000 veterans have quit/left Invictus Games because they're unhappy it's turned into the Harry-and-Meghan-Fauxyal-Tour. 2,000 is a HUGE number...especially considering that just 513 veterans competed in Dusseldorf IG. (Each of the Games has about 500 athletes. That's not a sustainable business model. For comparison: the 2022 Warrior Games had 300 athletes participating from 3 countries - the US, Canada, and Ukraine.)
And remember the essay I wrote a couple weeks ago about how Invictus Games had to be thinking about cutting Harry loose because he doesn't really do anything for them? (I honestly can't find it tonight. If anyone has a link, can you please share it? I thought I tagged that post but it's not coming up.)
So both of those things coming together - having to recruit for IG hosts now and blood in the IG water over veterans complaining about the Sussexes - means that Harry really needs the Nigeria trip to go well if he wants to keep Invictus Games. So he's got to actually work on this trip, and so does Meghan, so they're defaulting back to royal protocols hoping that the protocols are enough to woo and lovebomb people. I think what they're trying to do is say "if we come, this is all the attention and all the media that we'll bring with us, now imagine how much more attention and coverage you'll get over the next 5 years when you're an Invictus Games host."
It is kinda half in/half out, especially since it looks like government officials and Defense officials are involved in the trip (and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Harry rolls up with his medals again). But it feels more like desperation to me. They made their bed four years ago abusing and using Invictus Games because they could, only now Invictus Games has come to collect and is demanding they make good on Harry's role as Patron.
From a lot of the recent news coverage - Harry's leaks to the Express about pulling out of the anniversary service, Invictus Games now clapping back about how the veterans don't want Harry involved anymore, all the hype about their groundbreaking royal/anti-royal trip to Nigeria, and the confirmation that the Nigeria trip is expressly because of Invictus Games - there's definitely something happening behind closed doors at Invictus Games that seems to be making the Sussexes very nervous if they're now pivoting back to royal cosplay.
And also let's not forget the rumor that Mike Tindall has been asked to be an ambassador for Invictus Games in a role that might supplant Harry.
And not only that, I also feel like Harry and Meghan think that if the Nigeria trip goes well and it's a success and they come away with a deal for 2029 Invictus Games or having reversed their popularity slide, they can use it to shoehorn half in/half out from Charles by being able to point to this and say "see? We can do this. Look at what you're missing. You need us."
I'm not sure if it will be a success. The Sussexes often get in the way of their own selves when they really need things to go well and this trip is rife with potential for that. From the security concerns to military cosplay to appearance of it being an official visit on Charles's behalf to Diana cosplays to the goverment/Nigerian military involvement to just their personalities and mannerisms, it won't take much for something to go wrong. It'll take everything for the trip to go well.
On the one hand, I hope it works. I know how much Invictus Games means to Harry and I think he really derives some kind of true joy from being able to provide these services and opportunities to his fellow veterans and soldiers. But on the other hand, I hope it goes wrong ten ways to Sunday so Charles has no choice but to step in and remind everyone - Sussexes and the Commonwealth alike - that there's no half in/half out without his approval and they do not have it, no matter what the Sussexes pretend otherwise.
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tackytigerfic · 9 months
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Hello my beloved 🐯, moon of my life, I’m trying to think of asks I couldn’t possibly know the answer to, so I’m curious about 6 and/or 13 if you’re up for it? If not you can pick your favorite out of the list! - Liv 💜
Livvy my sun and stars, thank you for the ask! I wasn't aware there was anything you don't know about my fic tastes but I will see if I can dig something up!
Number 6 is coming in another ask so I will answer 13.
💌 A fic that inspired you to create something for it
This is an interesting one because I am really bad at creating tailored fics. I try very hard to write gift fics but I usually crumble and fail miserably. See, for instance, this snip from a fic I started which was inspired by lots of amazing fics by @the-starryknight (they're stuck in a dream sea and each dream was going to be a reference to a different Starry fic), or this snip which was meant as a tribute to the way joy has my whole heart in his hand (@ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm). I do hope to finish both of those some day.
I have done some rec lists! This one for @maesterchill, this one for @sweet-s0rr0w, and these short fic recs one and two.
This is not directly related to this ask but art is such a huge part of my fandom experience that it would be rude to overlook the inspirational powers of Drarry artists.
Looking through my old works, I do seem to get a lot of inspiration from art (on that note if any artists ever want to collab pls hit me up, I am too shy to do a big bang but it's less scary to say it on here! i would definitely be interested in potentially offering my services here to write bits and bobs for people's art once I'm finished my long wip! Though as with everything i do i am relentlessly slow and behind so there's that caveat. But i do seem to work visually so art often sparks ideas for me)
All the original art that inspired these is linked in the posts. I have a terrible memory and tumblr does not reliably catalogue things so I hope I am remembering everything.
This piece inspired by art by @littlewinnow
This piece inspired by art by @dragontamerdame
This piece and this piece inspired by art by @fictional
This piece inspired by art from @gryffindorhearts
When I do write gift fics for my fandom friends I try to get in references to the person's own creations. However I have only once ever actively tried to write a version of another fic. It was a fic I had read many years ago and could not for the life of me find again. I wrote this one as a little tribute to that, thinking I'd never find it again. Luckily for me, @lostdrarryfics came to the rescue! Alas the fic was by one of the greatest (imo), and sadly now deleted, HP writers ever, so my own effort paled in comparison! But I was so thrilled to get to revisit it again. It reminded me of how much pleasure this fandom has been bringing me for over half my life now.
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akitsuneswife · 2 years
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vent in the tags
tw for mentions of eating disorders / suicide
#not my aunt demanding an apology after she found out i said that i felt like shit bc she constantly hurt me verbally when i was 14#she almost pushed me to have a ed. i actually used to wish and pray i would get one just so i'd be skinny just like she wanted me to be#i developed a lack of self esteem. depression. insomnia for an entire year. all i thought of was suicide.#yeah i made some shitty things that hurt my family once but it doesn't mean i dont care about them#but apparently i dont have the right to feel sad about things that haunt me to this day bc i dont have it as rough#worst thing of all is i will HAVE to apologize or she will cut me off but she will never acknowlodge that she hurt me#bc she did so much for me (which ok she did) but in her mind that absolves of all the shitty things she said to me#i dont even know if i want to be around her even if i apologize. what i did remember is why i dont share anything with my family#the reason i put walls in between them and the things i want to keep private. the way i can't trust them.#bc every fucking time i try to open up im fucking backstabbed and then im the one to blame#im the one to blame when im taken out of the closet without my consent. im the one to blame for being depressed.#im the one to blame when something bad happens to them and i dont show emotion the way they want.#and now im thinking about suicide again. every time it seems things will get better im dragged down.#im not going to do it. but i cant help but wish she could eat her words and carry them with her her whole life.#knowing she could've let all of this pass.
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yuujispinkhair · 9 months
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Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons
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After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."
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Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.
Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock. 
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.
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AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!
Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
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inkskinned · 5 months
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it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.
i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.
when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.
on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.
we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.
i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?
how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.
last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.
i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.
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altieris · 6 months
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cw; obsessive!anakin, toxic!anakin, babytrapping, afab reader, 18+
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anakin skywalker is an emotional, clingy, fanatic, and obsessive little bastard.
in my heart of hearts, i believe anakin is fucking obsessed with you. he is lovesick. you're just...you, so gentle and warm. you've shown him so much love and care, and he's so so in love with you. he's ready to do just about anything for you. and hes awfully clingy, but affectionately so. he's always holding you close to his body, nuzzling his face all over yours, and kissing you excessively. sometimes it almost seems like he's trying to merge with you.
he tries to move in with you like 2 months into your relationship. he's all whiny and practically begging, "baby, we spend so much time together. why keep going back and forth like this? :(", and you solely agree cause his pout is just too pretty.
honestly, he loses his fucking mind at the mere idea of not being with you. literally. i'm talking, he'd be going on about his day, then suddenly, he's struck with the mental picture of not being yours, and you not being his. and he's brought down to his knees, head in his hands and everything.
it's to the point where he starts getting so possessive and jealous that he cannot fucking bear your friends. the concept of you taking a liking, platonic or not, to anyone but him makes him so nauseous that he's ready to throw up (that's not to say he hasn't already). and it's mutual. your friends fucking hate him, he's so mentally deranged and they can't figure out why you're with him.
oh and woe to you if any of them are men. he is in pure and utter agony. he will visibly sulk, pout and huff 24/7, he's unbearable. and when he's alone, he'll blankly stare at himself in the mirror, scream into his pillow, and cry himself to sleep.
the thought of you being with anyone but him - makes him physically incapable of breathing. it feels as if he's being suffocated. it makes him sick to his stomach and the thought of you loving anyone else makes him want to crawl up into a hole and die. he picks fights and argues with you because he just wants every ounce of your attention to be concentrated on him, needs your eyes to never stray off of him once, needs you to be all his at every waking moment. only his, his, his, his...can't you just give him that?!
and when he's finally able to see you, he practically combusts, he's fueled up by all the negative thinking :( he doesn't even stop to greet you, he just smashes his lips onto yours, and carries you to bed.
he fucks you in missionary, so he can look deep into your eyes, and show you just how much he loves you - tells you all about how he's willing to do whatever it takes for you to never, ever, leave his side. then he snarls harshly, going on about how he can't and won't let you go. and when he's close, he's practically shedding tears, begging you to never disappear on him. can't you see? he's an empty shell of a man without you, he cannot live without you. you tell him to pull out and he almost doesn't catch it due to the resounding obscene noises filling the room. almost. but he does. so he cages you in his arms, and plunges his dick so deep, and he starts babbling, all pathetic, about how your kids would have his eyes, and your nose.
he practically wails when he buries himself to the hilt one last time, shooting his cum deep inside your womb. and you're about to push him off of you when he starts moving again, helplessly and feebly mewling, "i can't stop", hes so demanding and hopeless. hes physically incapable of bringing his messy thrusts to a halt...god, what do you do with him?
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Simon Riley crying and praying for the first time in years bc you're hospitalized
(self indulgent as fuck, based off of personal medical history bc it'll be more accurate)
You hadn't ate or drank for 5 days, unable to keep anything down. You thought it was the flu at first. Fevers, puking, extreme fatigue. It didn't seem like anything out of the norm. Except for when your fevers started casing full body convulsions that made you look possessed. Chills and cold sweat turned to groaning and crying, muscles all over cramping and clenching, breathing becoming difficult. You figured it was because you hadn't had the flu in years. How wrong you had been.
Once your puke turned green, which was later found out to be bile from your kidneys, Simon rushed you to the hospital. Unable to stand, he pulled a wheelchair from the entrance and pushed you everywhere. Within 2 hours, the nurses had you admitted and on IV meds. Pain meds, IV Tylenol, and bags of fluid were hooked up to you, rehydrating you being high priority. Your body is in shock, resting heartrate being 140. He sat by your side the entire time, holding your puke bag in one hand, and your hair back in the other. The doctors drew blood, running blood cultures, searching for a more accurate answer.
The night you were admitted, they informed you that your kidneys were so infected that one got injured. The bile that was thrown up was caused but how hard you were puking, pulling it up from your kidneys.
He stayed the night, sleeping in the rocking chair, right next to your bed. He woke up when your fevers came back, holding your hand and telling you how good you're doing, calling in a nurse. The morning that followed, he had to go back to the house to make a bag of your immediate needs, clothes, deodorant, hairbrush, and anything else he could think of. When he came back, a doctor and a couple med students came in with important news.
"We ran blood cultures to see if there was possible an infection in your blood due to your symptoms leaning towards that. They came back positive. We are going to give you antibiotics and run cultures every 12 hours to track if the antibiotics are working" The doctor says as gently as possible.
The room begins to feel like it's spinning. Sepsis has a 68% mortality rate, and knowing how deadly it is, it feels like you're already being buried. Simon looks to you with a confused look, not knowing exactly what that it, but knowing it isn't good.
"I have sepsis?" You ask in a quiet voice, throat constricting.
"Yes" The doctor says softly.
"Oh fuck I'm gonna die" you whisper under your breath, tears forming.
Simon looks to you, eyes widening. 'Not again'
"Wait, the hell is Sepsis?" He demands, but not sounding confident, more scared than anything.
The doctor explains it to him, how it when your blood is infected, how the infection can latch onto your other organs and slowly kill you from the inside out. Once it reaches your brain, it's too late. His grip on your hand tightens. The doctor tries to give hope, but she can only do so much without lying. She leaves to give you privacy.
It's silent, neither of you speaking out of shock. The only noise in the room is the quiet hum of the IV machine and Simon's shaky breathing. Your thumb softly glides back and forth over the back of his hands, trying to ground him.
"Si" you softly call.
It takes hour to get him to loosen up a little. It's only when you manage to keep down a popsicle that he feels like he can breath a little easier. Like maybe you'll be part of the 32% that pull through.
That sliver of hope is crushed that night, being woken up by his arm being slapped repeated by you in a panic. His eyes meet yours, concern instantly written on his face. Your hand is on your chest as short, sharp breaths are the only thing you can manage.
"I,, can't,, breath,," you whisper between breaths, unable to say a sentence in one go.
"Baby it's alright, jus' try to breath wit' me, hm?" he tries to demonstrate slow breathing, mistaking it for a panic attack.
"not a,, panic,, attack,, please,, nurse,," you try to tell him.
He nods in a panic, running out to the nurse station and explaining. They rush in and take your pulse-ox just to see your oxygen percentage is at 86% when it should be above 95%. They try to do the deep breathing again before Simon interrupts them.
"It's not a bloody panic attack, she literally can't breath. Get her oxygen or somethin' before she fuckin' suffocates!"
They put you on oxygen until they can get you an X-ray. The nurses try to chalk it up to a panic attack until in the morning they see you still can't breath. They give you an X-ray and when the results come back, they send the doctor in. She informs you that the nurses gave you too much IV fluid and that caused your organs to swell so much that they pushed up on your lungs, collapsing them by 3/4ths. 1/4th of your lungs are still open and they're going to take you off fluid, start you on exercises to open them back up, and keep you on oxygen.
That's the last straw for Simon. Once you fall asleep for a nap, he heads outside to the bench area and punches a wall. His knuckles split but he barely feels it, ringing in his ears drowning out the surrounding noise. With no one around, he sits on a bend, elbows on knees and face in his hands. His breath picks up as his throat tightens and tears threaten to rip out of him.
"Why would ya let this happen to 'er? Aren't you supposed to be lovin'?" He whispers into the wind, looking up at the sky, "That girl in't like me. She's the fuckin' sunshine in human form and she's on death's bloody doorstep."
Tears cloud his vision, unable to keep it in any longer. He blinks them away, falling onto his clenched fists. Years of praying, to a god he later grew to resent, for him to fix his family. A child kneeling at his bed, begging him to get his family out of his father's grasp. Once he got to his teenage years, his desperation became resentment and anger. His jaw began to clench when his drunken father would spew bible verses at him to condemn him. He realized God wouldn't save him, nor would he when Simon's family was ripped from him.
Yet here he was, back to that same god, desperate that maybe, just maybe, he'd have mercy on him this time. He believed himself a rotten man, even if it was subconscious, unworthy of the angel sent to him. His light, reparations for the mistreatment The Father had destined for him.
"You sent 'er to me, it's gotta be for a reason. You've never listened to my prayers before but just this fuckin' once, please don't ignore me." His voice breaks, openly sobbing with no sound, "You sent 'er to me and now I can't live without 'er. She's fuckin' everythin' to me. Don't take back your gift, please" The end of his sentence slips into a whisper.
He wipes his tears on his sleeve and sniffles hard, trying to erase the evidence of his vulnerability. He stands and walks to the door, looking back at the bench before turning back to the door and walking in. 'Amen'
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shmalk · 2 months
Note
Could you write the second half of what happens after price shoots immortal!reader? I love this idea, it makes me think of the Old Guard on netflix :D
you're dead.
that's the only thing any of them think, all of them shocked as they watch price holster his weapon and lean back against the post. he checks his watch, one that was practically glued to the inside of his wrist, and takes a puff of his cigar.
its almost a minute before any of them move - and gaz is first, throwing himself onto the ground beside you, pulling you into his arms and trying to pick you up off the ground.
there's too much blood, and he can't seem to lift you - were you always that heavy?
soap is slow, stuttering his feet until he reaches gaz, glancing down at the scene. your hair is mattered and tangled, covered in dust and now your own blood. your eyes are wide open and holding contact with the sky, no sneaking glances towards him or even a slight wink - you're dead.
simon is the only one who focuses on price - storming his way up to him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off the ground. he's confused, scared, for once, he doesn't know anything. did you betray them? did price?
despite knowing the inner turmoil inside his task force's head, price can't help but bark out a laugh, patting on ghost's hands to get the man to drop him.
soap retreats at that, joining ghost as the two of them demand answers - all but promising to take him into the interrogation room and demand he tell the truth.
gaz has to step away to vomit, your blood is warm and it's dripping - but he can feel it moving, he knows its not real and he's imagining it, hoping you'll turn to face him and scream about it being a prank. but you wont - you're dead.
only, you're not dead, and you can't help but groan as your eyes come back into focus, your arms feel like led - but you're able to lift one to cover your eyes from staring up at the sun.
you cough a few times, and push yourself up onto your elbow. you hate getting shot, it was a horrible feeling and you never liked loosing that much blood - but price had done it once (after you'd all but demanded he do it) and now he liked the shock factor.
glancing around, you take note of ghost, holding price by his shirt against a pole, and soap holding a large metal pole, threating to beat him over the head. all of three of them have turned to stare at you as you rise from the dead.
gaz is beside you, frozen in place in the middle of wiping his face free from bile.
"sorry for getting shot in the head, you guys."
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a few people asked for a continuation !! sorry if this isn't the best, had a long day at work today and the weather in aus is c r az y !!
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lilithandherharlots · 10 months
Text
Too shy to tell you
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.
Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]
Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!
:::
"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.
"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.
"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."
"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.
He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.
"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.
"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."
He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.
:::
It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.
"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.
"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.
"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.
He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.
"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.
"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.
"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.
"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."
You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.
"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.
You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.
"Please don't take that away from me."
His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...
"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."
As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.
"F-fine... I promise."
"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.
"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"
The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.
This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.
He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.
"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.
"I'll buy you the cutest flats."
:::
A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.
The end
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distantdarlings · 6 months
Text
HOUSE PRIDE // t. nott
RATING: R / 3.8K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Heavy sexual material, degradation, name-calling, jealousy, fem reader, language, dom!Theo--honestly, this is just depraved
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Pyramids - Frank Ocean
---
You pressed your face to your hands, breathing deeply. You couldn’t believe what you were fucking hearing. The pounding in your head refused to subside as he kept demanding an answer.
“Hello? Do you wanna explain why you were practically throwing yourself on Riddle today at lunch?” the brunette demanded, his eyes widened and wild. Your hands dropped and you made eye contact with the boy. You were in disbelief.
“Throwing myself at him? You dick, I tripped and fell on him! That’s just number one! Number two: you are not my fucking boyfriend,” you shouted, “I can throw myself on whoever I want, whenever I want!”
Theo locked his jaw and pursed his lips slightly. A tell of his that meant he was very angry. He didn’t usually speak much after he pushed past this point. More like, just crossed his arms and stared at you, eye bordering on twitching. You scoffed and held your hands out, waiting for a response from him. He said nothing.
“I don’t need you to tell me who to give attention to, Theo. You are not my boyfriend, I am not your girlfriend. I tripped and fell against Mattheo this morning and we both laughed it off, so why can’t you?”
“You just tripped and fell on him and his hands landed on your ass? Oh, whoops, just an accident!” he mocked you. 
“I don’t know if his hands were on my ass or not, he may have been trying to stabilize me as quickly as he could—but besides the point, who gives a fuck if he was touching my ass? It’s not like you’ve been too eager to do anything anytime soon!” you shout, blood rushing through your ears and cheeks. Shit. You did not mean to say that. His head shot back and his eyes widened slightly. You kept the anger imprinted on your face to attempt to hide the embarrassment you were feeling so strongly. Hopefully, he would think this was a super-confident confession written in a rage. Still, he said nothing.
“Oh, forget it! To hell with you, Theo!” you screamed, grabbing your robes and running out of his dorm room. He said nothing and made no move to stop you. Your feet carried you down the hallway and into your own room. 
None of your roommates were here. You figured they were all in different dorms, preparing for the common room party in a few hours. Once every couple of months, some of the Slytherins—usually seniors—will get together and prepare a “house” party. They’re always fun, high-energy, and filled to the brim with Slytherin pride. Merlin, you loved them. 
You had originally declined to go tonight. You had some leftover work that was due on Monday and you almost thought that Theo would invite you to Hogsmeade or something, but you should have known better than that. It seems all he’s concerned about is his reputation. 
You tugged through the buttons on your uniform top and ripped it off your shoulders. You pulled your skirt and socks off, holding the end of your bed for balance. There were a couple of nice outfits shoved in the trunk beneath the bedframe—you figured something in there would do. You reached up and let your hair down from its elastic, allowing it to fall to its natural length. The ends of the waved strands tickled your skin as you yanked the trunk into the open. Inside were a couple of different combinations, all saved up for special occasions. And if anyone asked you, making Theo Nott as jealous as you possibly could was a very special occasion. 
Your eyes fell on a specific top. A long sleeve, skin-tight sweetheart neckline that plunged a little deeper than it should, and a flared, darkened skirt. You reckoned it was simple and sexy. It practically bled Theo’s name all over your body, claiming you as his, though you pretended like you hated that. He never needed to know it, but you secretly loved how jealous he became when you had the smallest interactions with other people. You blow a curled hair out of your face. The fucker could have been running down the halls with a red tapestry taped to his back and you still wouldn’t call him a red flag. He was just what you wanted; what you’d wanted for years. Whether or not he’d ever actually act on your feelings for each other, you belonged to him and he belonged to you. 
You slipped the outfit on, mussed up your hair a bit, and applied a light layer of makeup. With the two tests, three project due dates, and eighteen assignments you’d had this week, you could use a bit of a touch-up. Hopefully, you didn’t sweat it off by the end of the night—though, that was sort of the goal.
You grabbed your wand and slipped it into your back pocket, patting it twice for good luck, and pushed through the dorm door. Down the hallway, you could hear the faint pounding of music. Your heart raced, keeping in time with the deep bass pushing past the walls. Was this a good idea? For a few moments, you stood in front of your door, pondering your options. Your plan for this evening could either end really well or really badly or you could avoid the possibilities completely and stay in like you originally planned. A deep sigh left you as your eyes slid closed. Who cared? This was your life and, you’d said it earlier, Theo was not your boyfriend and you intended on finishing what you’d started with Mattheo earlier this morning.
Deep cool colors swirled throughout the common room, echoing off of every shadow and highlight in the moulding. Everywhere you looked there was another Slytherin scarf or Quidditch team hat. One boy even wore a Slytherin flag around his neck like a cape. You laughed at the absurd outfit. These parties were most definitely one of the best things about being a Slytherin. Say what you will about the house, but they could throw a fucking party. 
You slid through swaying bodies, feeling the bass echo deep in your chest, rattling your ribcage. A couple of your friends were scattered throughout the crowd and slipped in gracefully with their personal friends. As you passed by them, they waved or flashed you a bright smile, all of which you returned. You would come back and talk but, for now, you were looking for someone specific. 
There was a table set up in front of the fireplace, decked out with green and black decorations, and overflowing with tall glasses of firewhisky. Your eyes skated along the length of the furniture until it reached a familiar body. You smirked and grabbed a drink before making your way over.
Enzo stood against the edge of the table, discussing something with one of the “bartenders.” When you stopped in front of him, his lips ceased and his eyes found your chest, then your eyes. His lips remained parted. Sweet, sweet Enzo. 
“Hey, En, I was wondering if you’d seen Mattheo, anywhere?” you smiled. He said nothing for a few seconds before stuttering back to life like an old car. 
“Uh, no, I haven’t seen him anywhere…uh, why do you need—um, I mean, did you need to talk to him?” he stumbled, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets. The boy he’d been talking to—some fifth-year—snorted and rolled his eyes, turning away from the two of you to pour a couple more drinks. You stepped closer to Enzo, feeling his body heat on you. The shoes you were wearing granted you a couple more inches of height, which, consequently, put your hairline just above his. His eyes were angled slightly upward as he watched you. 
You waved him against you. He leaned in. The confidence burning through you tonight was more than you’d felt in a long time. You felt hurt and angry and frustrated. You could fix one of those quickly. You traced the skin above his ear, pushing a small tuft of copper hair back. A small shudder went through his body as you pressed your lips against his ear.
“I just wanted to dance and was looking for a boy who’d dance with me,” you said slowly. “I thought Mattheo would be the best but maybe you could…you know…”
You pulled away and smiled sweetly, placing a deep innocence into your eyes, watching as his lips parted and closed multiple times. You tilted your head to the right, allowing your eyes to switch from his eyes to his lips ever so briefly.
“I haven’t seen Mattheo, I’ll dance with you,” he said, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. You smiled brightly and grabbed one of the hands hanging limply by his side. You felt his warm skin beneath yours as you tugged him toward the center of the dancing mass. You were pretty sure you recognized the song playing and proceeded to work all of its beats throughout your body, encouraging Enzo to join you.
“Come on, En!” you laughed. “You’re supposed to dance with me.” He seemed to shock out of a momentary stupor. You felt good tonight and you hoped it was showing on your face and body. He still didn’t move and you reckoned he was going to take some physical guiding. 
As the song slowed slightly, you grabbed both of his hands and slid them around your hips. His breath shuddered through his lips as you began moving the two of you. You dropped your hands to his belt and guided his hips a bit, biting back a smile. He had all of the facilities for these particular…activities, he was just really nervous. Soon enough, though, his hips were moving on their own.
You turned around and placed your back against his chest. Without prompting, his hands dropped down to your hips, gripping them firmly. He moved you against him to every beat of the song. To be honest, he was placing a little bit of blush in your stomach. One of your arms raised to wrap loosely around his neck.
“That’s it, baby,” you cooed in his ear, cradling the base of his neck with your hand. One of his hands raised to hold your arm against him as the other stayed intact on your hip. A crooked smile found its way onto his lips as the both of you felt every rhythm the other was putting out. Fuck, maybe you’d picked the wrong boy all along. The way Enzo was grabbing your hips and ever so slowly grinding against your ass had your lips parting in a slow gasp.
“Like this?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Merlin, help you.
If anything could have pulled you out of your current situation, it was the burning eyes you felt against you pouring into your skin like a brand. You gasped a bit and looked away from Enzo. Almost immediately, you found Theo’s eyes on the two of you. Enzo noticed your sudden change of attention and glanced up, finding the older’s eyes. Like he’d been branded himself, his hands faded away from you and, almost as quickly, so did he. Fucker. So much for sticking by you. 
You were used to it by now, though. Where you were involved, Theo was, too. Even though you weren’t actually together, everyone knew you were Theo’s. Anytime you were hanging out with another boy, he always found out. Even if it was just for a school assignment. 
His jaw was clenched and ticking. His eyes were lidded and ice-cold, angled right at you. You rolled your eyes and huffed, stomping off through the crowd. He couldn’t get whatever he wanted all the time. He needed to pick. He needed to officially claim you as his, take you on dates, buy you gifts, and all that nonsense or he needed to leave you the hell alone. He couldn’t have it both ways. 
You finally came upon the end of the crowd and the staircase leading to the girl’s dorms. You hurried up the steps, not even caring if he was behind you or ignoring you or with a different girl. 
The hallway was completely empty, everybody down at the party or taking an early night. You rushed across the winding floors, trying your best to get to your room before Theo changed his mind. You just wanted to get out of your clothes and makeup and go to bed. Your dorm door appeared around the corner followed by an immense sense of relief.
Your hand closed around the doorknob and—a hand closed tightly around your arm and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as the perpetrator slammed you roughly into the wall just beside the door. It was Theo. He was livid, his breath coming out in hard slants, and his eyes so darkened they appeared black. You swallowed thickly, your breath rushing out of you just as his was. The two of you heard your hearts pounding in tandem.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, his face inches from yours. Your eyes glanced down from his to his lips, watching the changes in his anger. He waited impatiently for an answer for too long before you realized it wasn’t meant to be a rhetorical question. 
He grabbed your arm once more and pulled you away from the wall. A swift flick of his wand and a fury like no other, and he was pulling you into your empty dorm room. It was almost completely dark by now.
“You want some attention, huh?” he said, casting a flame into the stove set in the middle of the room, his grip on your arm never weakening. He slammed his wand down on your bedside table and pushed you onto your bed. You fell roughly against the mattress, your hands holding you up into a sitting position. He stared down at you wildly, like an angry parent.
“Answer me,” he growled. Your eyes bore the same innocence you’d given to Enzo earlier and you knew that he’d only last a few minutes like this. Already, his facade was flickering and his gaze was softening. 
“I just—I don’t know, Teddy, I—”
“You just, you—you, you…fucking spit it out,” he mocked you. Body betraying your mind, heat pooled in your lower stomach as his face got closer and closer to yours and he got angrier and angrier. If it was anyone else, you’d have gotten embarrassed or angry but with Theo…it was a different feeling.
“All out of confidence, hmm? What happened, baby, you had plenty out there when you were grinding your ass all over Lorenzo Berkshire in front of everyone!”
“What’s wrong with Enzo?” you squeaked, your thumbs rolling over the other.
“He’s not me, you stupid girl,” he roared, his words perking your chest. You pressed your thighs together discreetly, never losing eye contact with him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you.
“Are you serious? Are you fucking turned on right now?” he asked. He had seen you. You didn’t say anything. His hand reached around and roughly gripped your hair, his fingers tugging deliciously on your scalp. He held your head back.
“Answer me, baby,” he whispered, his voice a thousand times different. “Does it turn you on when I shout at you? When you get me jealous and worked up?” The way he was looking down at you had you gulping against the strain being placed on your throat. You nodded.
“God, you’re so fucking pathetic,” he laughed darkly, the sinister tone in his voice echoing in your stomach. His hand let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw tightly. He held your face up so you were looking directly into his eyes.
“Maybe I need to remind you who you fucking belong to?” An eyebrow quirked. You nodded once more, anticipation hitting you like a train. He smirked, releasing your jaw by pushing you back roughly. Your back came into contact with the bed, the material nearly knocking the breath out of you. 
He crawled over you slowly, letting his lips ghost over your exposed cleavage, neck, chin, lips. He paused and allowed his breath to pour into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, the scent of it burning your lips. He pushed his tongue out and gently traced it over your bottom lip. Your lips parted in a gasp at the contact. Just as soon as your mouth had opened, his had covered it, suffocating all breath. You moaned into him, feeling the way his body held you tightly against the mattress. 
You raised your hand to place your fingers beneath his shirt, but one of his hands reached down and grabbed yours with a speed your intoxicated brain wasn’t capable of comprehending right now. He raised them above your head and held them with a grip like a vice, his fingers violent and unyielding. You’d definitely have bruises in the morning. 
You bucked your hips against him, trying to illicit some contact between your core and his. He grunted at the touch before pulling back and roughly turning you over, pressing your chest into the mattress. 
“Don’t fucking do that,” he growled into your ear, still holding your hands tightly above you. “Do as I fucking say. I’m going to pull this skirt up and I’m going to fuck you and you’re not going to say a word but my name. Do you understand me?” You nodded frantically, impatiently waiting for some contact. 
“Keep your hands there,” he instructed as he slowly let them go. You curled your fingers around the edge of the bed to keep them locked in place. You didn’t dare disobey him. 
Behind you, you could hear the clink of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his jeans and dropped it to the floor. The anticipation was killing you, your thighs pressing tightly together for a chance at some friction. The heat between them was beginning to become too much. 
He pressed bruising kisses along the side of your neck, trailing them down your shoulder. His teeth cut along the flesh, ripping blacks and blues into the sensitive skin. You whimpered at the feeling, knowing good and well he just wanted everyone to see whose you were.
His fingers ghosted along the outsides of your thighs, tracing the chills that appeared in their wake. You shuddered against the sheets, waiting to feel everything he was about to do. You couldn’t see any of his movements and, for whatever reason, that amplified the feeling by a million. 
There was a moment of nothing except for the sound of rustling clothing. No part of him touched you and you found yourself becoming more and more desperate by the moment. You reckoned he was removing unnecessary items of his outfit but if he didn’t do something soon, you were going to start pitching a fit. 
Then his thumb pressed against your thin undergarments, right where you needed him the very most. An awfully audible moan left your lips and your spine arched against his touch. Merlin help anyone who walked by this dorm or, worse, tried to come in.
“Please, baby,” you sighed, your fingers clenching tightly against the mattress. His hand roughly grabbed your hair once more, tugging your head back.
“My name only, you dumb slut,” he insulted before pushing your head back into the sheets. One hand held your head to the bed as the other lined his hips up with yours. 
No matter how many times the two of you did this, you’d never get used to it. He was just so much better than any of the other boys in school. And there were a lot of them too. None of them felt like Theo and he knew it, too. He knew that you would always come back to him. He was impossible to leave. His touch and rough, degrading words were addictive and you couldn’t stay away from him. Your friends had told you over and over again that you needed to drop him and completely move on but you just couldn’t. He was the closest thing to a drug you had.
He tucked a finger beneath your undergarments and slid them over to the side. He placed a hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he ordered. You complied. He spread the material over his fingers slowly, coating each one thoroughly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand disappear and reintroduce itself with your core. The tips of his soaked fingers skirted between the slit of your skin, lathering you in his touch. Just as he’d instructed, his name poured from your lips like a prayer. 
He pulled his hands away and quickly replaced them with a dark, warm heat that pressed into you agonizingly slowly, stretching every part of you out.
“Fuck, it’s been a while,” he groaned breathlessly, pushing into you until he bottomed out. His lips curve just above your ear, every moan and whisper touching your mind like a soft hand. As he began to move, they became louder and made less sense to either of you. His name curled around the room. You worshipped him. The reverence you placed on every syllable touched his chest and slid down to his core. He gasped into your ear. You sounded so fucking good.
It didn’t matter if he fucked every girl in Hogwarts, none of them could ever compare to you. 
“Theo, baby, you feel so good,” you screamed, the words vibrating your skin. 
“Yeah, baby?” he breathed. You moaned aloud as he pressed an especially sharp thrust against you. “I know, I know.”
“Please, please, please,” you babbled, your words pathetic and useless. His hips never ceased their brutal pace.
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “Are you my girl? Or are you Enzo’s?” He growled the last part, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair. You yelped at the feeling, tilting your head back to relieve some of the pain.
“No, no! I’m yours, Teddy, I’m all yours, please,” you begged. 
“That’s right, baby.” He released your hair. Every movement of his body brought you closer and closer to your end. His hands gripping your hips and pulling himself toward his own, his lips curling against your ear, his weight holding you perfectly in place.
Neither of you would last much longer and you both knew that. Every deep push of his hips drove you further into your pleasure as you began to close around him, gradually coaxing a release out of him. One of his hands dropped down to trace tight circles against you, ignoring the way your hips quaked to get away from the overstimulation. You were done for. 
Every sound pouring from his lips began to mingle with yours a bit closer as he pushed you through both of your final breaths. His hips got slower and his grip loosened on your waist. The loss of his support sent your weakened body falling back down to the mattress. A breathless chuckle came from him as he laid down beside you, his shimmering skin luminescent in the moonlight. You presented him with a tired smile. 
“Could Enzo fuck you like that?” he asked, a proud smirk imprinted on his lips.
“I don’t know—I’ll let you know when I find out.”
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obae-me · 3 months
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Would He Peel The Orange?
(I hope this hasn't been done too much already, but I really wanted to do it) So, if you've been in the same internet circle as I've been in, you probably know about this trend that's going around right now where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them. It's supposed to kind of signify your partner's willingness to do something important to you, even if it seems mundane or even inconvenient for them. So of course, I wanted to imagine what our favorite boys would do in this scenario.
Note: This is just for silly goofy times. A little ha-ha funny jape, if you will. Meaning not serious. If I think a character would not peel an orange, I don't think they're suddenly toxic or would not love the MC or anything.
"Could you peel an orange for me?"
Lucifer
To those of you who say he is too prideful to peel an orange for you, do I need to point out that he is the eldest sibling? Not only that, but he's practically a single mom. He has Sloth as the baby brother of the family. Do you think Belphie peels his own oranges? No! Lucifer probably cuts the crusts off of his brother's sandwiches for heaven sakes.
Is it heaven sakes or heaven's sake?... I actually don't know
However, I do think he would get suspicious, especially if you're trying to film his reaction. He would raise an eyebrow and know that there's something more to you just wanting an orange. Is this orange cursed? Is this a prank? You'll have to convince him it's perfectly normal before he straight up refuses.
Is he going to get up from his desk or move away from work to go grab you an orange? Probably not. But if you bring it to him, he will peel it for you, giving you a weird- and maybe slightly judging- look the entire time.
He will peel it very nicely, but you would have to take the peel back to toss yourself all while demanding to know why you have such a smirk on your face.
If you explain it to him, he'll definitely get a bit smug. "Who knew all it would take to prove my love to you was peeling an orange? If you needed some assurance, I would've gladly provided more for you."
He wins this one. He peeled the orange.
But...he might be asking his own favor from you later. So, minus one point for that, but they do say the devil dances in dealings, so...
7/10
Mammon
"Huh? Why do you need me to peel it for you, your hands broken or somethin'? I'm not your damn maid."
He is already peeling the orange. He is somehow managing to grumble and act like he's not doing it while he is in the process of doing it.
And if you don't have oranges on hand? Just give him any excuse to go shopping and he will take it. And not only will he peel those oranges, he'll buy them for you too.
And sure maybe he's a little ditsy and might not know what the difference between an orange, a tangerine, and a clementine is (they're all orange, dammit), but he will be buying you ALL of them just in case.
Listen, he's a man with impulse problems and an intense desire to be your number one demon.
Did he probably spend the next few hours in the store getting himself stuff as well? Probably, yeah. He see shiny, he get shiny.
But don't worry. He will peel you that orange.
And you will be eating an assortment of orange colored fruits for the next few days.
Is...this a peach?
9/10
Levi
If he's gaming, probably not. Some games can't be paused. And it's not even that he doesn't want to, he'll probably be glad to do so, but he'll do it once this round is over.
And then he'll probably forget. Which, fair, I do it too. You get into the zone and then six hours have passed. Sometimes the measure of love can't always be held behind an orange.
However!
If a controller is not in his hand and his mind is not occupied by several random colorful flashes, he might peel the orange.
BUT
If too many other people are around, he might get anxiety.
You know when you somehow manage to fumble peeling an orange? You can't manage to break the peel properly or you end up dropping it and looking like a fool?
If you've never had performance anxiety over peeling an orange, you... well that's actually really good, you must have a much more peaceful mind-- but it exists for us anxious people, okay?! It's too much pressure!
In the end, he's very situational! But that doesn't mean he refuses to peel you an orange! It would actually make him very happy to do that for you...
5/10
Satan
Very confused. Will ask too many questions before he does anything.
Are you hurt? Is the peel too tough for human fingers? If you're having a hard time using your fingers, why not get a knife or a tool to assist you? Why are you in his room rather than the kitchen? Is that not a waste of energy? What if he'd not been here, would you have wandered around?
He doesn't get it. He means well though.
He might get a little irritated, not so much at you as at himself. He feels like he's missing something.
Is this some form of human bonding? Are you afraid of the orange? What secrets does it hold?
He will peel it for you. He'll even put his book down to do so.
But please answer his questions, he can't find the logic in seeking him out just to peel a fruit for you. He can list off several other more efficient methods.
If you explain it to him, you'll see him visibly relax. So there was some deeper meaning.
Although now he might think that this form of act is some sort of love declaration. Prepare to have him peel and/or cut all your fruits from now on. Which... is actually kind of sweet. What a gentleman.
8/10
Asmo
No... with his nails?! Please. I've only worn fake nails like twice in my entire life, and doing anything like that with those little suckers hurts like hell. Why?? Tried to open a can once and thought my real nail would peel right off.
And even if he's not wearing fake nails, getting that pulpy orange peel underneath your fingernails?! Having the juice make your fingers all sticky? No. Awful. Bad texture. I've always headcanoned Asmo with texture issues, and if his are even close to being like mine, it's gonna be a no.
BUT
If you want an orange so badly, I can guarantee he knows all these cute little places around town that make delicious fruit selections! He'd probably go out and get you one of those beautiful and decorative edible fruit arrangements and make sure they somehow include lots of orange.
Or, if you don't want that and you just want a normal orange right NOW, he'll charm someone else to peel it for you, hon. Don't even worry.
And once it's peeled, to make up for not doing it himself, he'll be all to happy to feed it to you if you want him to. ~
Never underestimate the lengths he'll go to provide for you and himself at the same time.
6.5/10 I appreciate the hustle.
Beel
I... I mean... he's gonna eat it.
Love the man to death, but if you hand him an orange before you fully preface that it's yours and you just want it peeled, it's gone. He probably didn't even peel it before he ate it too. Probably just eats it like an apple.
But, but, but, he'll get you a new one. So please don't look so sad...
It might be best if you accompany him just in case, but he'll absolutely get you another one. Besides, he wants more himself now, that first one was delicious.
He'll gather a whole basket of oranges and you can share them together.
One slice for you...five for him. Another slice for you...
It make take a minute to get a full orange's worth, but it's about the attempt and the time spent. And he's technically actually peeling SO many oranges for you.
I'd also like to point out that I have actually written out a scene in one of my stories where Beel actually EXACTLY peels an orange FOR MC. WAY before this trend was a thing.
--Eventually he came across an orange, peeling off the wax shell meant to serve as extra preservation. Citrus flooded your nose. Your mouth actually watered at the scent, watching Beel strip the fruit before peeling it apart. A sniff, and then it was actually handed to you.
So he would! 100 times over! Even in my silly little side story where everyone is nearly on the brink of death and in a freezing wasteland, he would still peel an orange for you!
10/10 Minus one point for eating your orange first, plus one point for peeling you an orange in another universe.
Belphie
Y...yeah, no. No, he won't.
Or there's at least a very slim chance he will. He does get in weird moods sometimes where he wants to pamper you, but that's on his own terms and his own time.
He doesn't even peel his own oranges, as I previously stated in Lucifer's section.
If you just waltz up to him and ask him to peel it for you...there's a 95% chance he will not. Most of it being due to him being asleep. You would probably have a better chance trying to train him to peel an orange while sleepwalking. That might work. Would also probably make a good party trick.
But, he's weird at remembering details like this. Even if he doesn't act on it right now, it will be logged in his memory. You could mention something briefly once seven months ago and he'll bring it up to you and remember the conversation completely like it happened yesterday.
So, even if he doesn't peel the orange now, when he's in the mood, maybe after his nap, maybe the next day, maybe two weeks after in which you had forgotten it, he will bring you a peeled orange.
Either that or he'll do what Asmo does and make someone else peel it for you.
3/10
Diavolo
You want him to peel your orange for you? You mean... he gets to treat someone like that for once?! ABSOLUTELY.
He is all too happy to peel you an orange! This is like, groundbreaking for him. He gets to provide! Gets to hand you a tiny fruit, broken and prepared with his own two hands! Is this how Barbatos feels when he cooks?
How does one exactly peel an orange, though?... He's seen them whole like this before, but they're typically already in strips when he gets around to eating them.
Break the skin? What, like an egg?
Well...there goes your orange.
On the bright side, it seems he's very good at making orange juice.
But fear not! He'll have Barbatos bring another one!
Wait...look, see, they come pre-peeled. Oh...you mean Barbatos has been peeling all his fruits for him this entire time? He's never known the joyful luxury of unveiling and working for the literal fruits of his labor?! This will change today.
Get another orange, unpeeled, and he will do it himself this time!
It might take some personal discovery and some patience before he peels you an orange, but it will get done, he swears it!
11/10 Plus one point for wholesome life lessons and sheer determination.
Barbatos
An orange? Just a plain orange? If you wait just a moment, he could have an orange chiffon cake, or would you perhaps prefer some orange panna cotta? Orange Merengue pie? Pound cake? Made into a buttercream? A pudding? A sorbet? A sherbet? Served as a juice? Main flavor or just as a zest? Would you like a meal before dessert? Or he could always find healthier options for oranges? Would you like him to list of those options as well?
Okay, so... he overcorrects a little bit.
Bottom line is, he'd peel you an orange. He'd make an entire seven course meal based around oranges. Make it all the color orange if you'd prefer.
Like I said though, he tends to overdo it.
He falls into his royal butlery habits and misses the fact that this is supposed to be so important to you because it's so simple. Although it's cute the way an ever powerful ever perfect being can miss such a detail.
You might have to put your foot down a bit and not let yourself get carried away in the splendor. You just want this orange. This one orange, and if he could just peel it for you, that's all you want.
So he'll take his gloves off and peel it for you. He'll make sure all the extra little white strands are plucked off as well. And he double checks it for seeds.
Are you sure this is all you want? "I guess something so simple can often be taken for granted. I forget that sometimes."
12/10 He'll probably still end up making you several other orange treats and he learned a valuable lesson today. It's a win for everyone.
Simeon
Are you kidding me?
This man probably brought the orange with him. You probably didn't even need to bring it up! He's single dad with two one kid and a sorcerer. He's like that sweet mom who always has certain things on hand. Medicine? Bandages? Spare cash? Candy? Gum? He's got it. He puts the Guardian in guardian angel.
You want that orange? He'll peel that orange, you just hold on. Let's make sure your hands are clean. Use this hand sanitizer he brought with him. Here, have a granola bar while you're at it. Are you hungry? You didn't skip lunch, did you? Here, take this water bottle, you look a bit dehydrated.
Oh dear, and your hands feel so dry! Here, he brought some lotion.
This angel is 100% fully here for you. You are about to be so taken care of.
Not even oranges. You want your apples fully peeled and sliced? Got it. Want something pitted? He can do that too. He'd be willing to stain his fingers and clothes on a pomegranate for you. How is he doing this even outside of the house? Magic or something probably.
He'd pack you an orange in a cute little bag with a hand written note and a short poem.
This man is a real one.
100/10 He definitely thinks that LOL means lots of love.
Solomon
Are...you sure you know what you're doing? He will absolutely peel you an orange, but at what cost?
If you're not careful, not only will he peel you an orange, but he'll add some of his Special Solomon Spices to make your experience all the more... thrilling.
Quite like how thrilling bungee jumping in the dark could be...
Also, he might just try to peel it with magic, which, while nice of him, defeats the purpose of the entire test.
You'll have to specify he's to do it by hand, and keep an unblinking, ever-careful eye on him to make sure he doesn't 'enhance' the flavor.
But, all in all, he does it. Quite happily too, one might add.
Are you sure you just want an orange? He'd be glad to whip something up for you if you're feeling peckish!
You kind of... tempt fate with this one.
2/10 One point for wanting to peel the orange, one point for trying to go the extra mile. But... well... Will you survive is the thing? You might want to try to measure his love for you using different non-edible methods.
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141 + König Jealousy Headcannons
Based on a request from anon- I suck and somehow posted my drafted one yet again☹️
Warnings: sexual references, mild angst
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Simon Ghost Riley-
When He Gets Jealous -
While Simon knows he is an attractive man, he still thinks that you can do much better than him
That being said, when you're around your close friends, and seem genuinely happy by their presence, Simon can't help the pit that forms in his stomach
He will get quiet and distant whenever he feels jealous. It's not a common emotion for him, and he doesn't know how to handle it
May honestly go to Johnny for advice about it
It'll take him a while to open up to you at first about his jealousy.
When he does finally come to terms with his jealousy....SCARY...DOG...PRIVELAGE
When You Get Jealous -
Let's be honest, this man is beautiful, so he constantly will have men and women vying for his attention
Simon isn't one for small talk with strangers though, so he often brushes them off politely, much to your amusement
That's not to say however, that you don't still get jealous when a fairly attractive person goes and chats him up
When he notices you get jealous, he'll make it a point to introduce you to the person who's flirting with him
Simon's not the overly affectionate type, but he would certainly make an exception if you were upset enough. He wants you to know he's yours until the end of time.
Doesn't even complain when you jump him the minute you guys get home
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König-
When He Gets Jealous -
Like Simon, König isn't very vocal about his jealousy, and he will get fairly quiet
He's still fairly insecure with himself, so when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is, he can't help but feel self-conscious
He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you- pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, opening the car door for you- more than he already does
He doesn't fully understand why you are with him, but he will do whatever he can to keep you
Please reassure this poor man. He loves you so much and doesn't want to lose you
When You Get Jealous -
Poor baby doesn't ever intentionally make you jealous
He tries to be nice to any person who approaches him, and it indirectly makes you jealous
He also doesn't realize when people are flirting with him, he always just thinks they're being nice
Literally will feel SO bad if you're jealous, and will apologize profusely for making you feel bad
Gets adorably flustered if you mark him up. Doesn't know what to do with himself
Say the word, and he will RAVISH you in bed to make you feel better
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John Price-
When He Gets Jealous-
This man SCREAMS possessive (not in a toxic way). You are his and his alone
Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.
Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with, and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself
If the person gets handsy with you? God help that person. Price would kill for you.
9/10 though, the minute his gruff, demanding voice comes out, it scares any possible suitor away from you
Will absolutely take you home and make SURE you know who you belong to ;)
When You Get Jealous-
When you get jealous, John gets pretty cocky about it
Depending on his mood, he may or may not feed into the flirting (just to see you get riled up)
Likes when you come over and make it known he's yours. He finds it cute when you get all fired up
Also finds it cute if you get all pouty about it, he will tease you quite a bit about it
Certainly won't complain if you mark him up once you get home. He'll wear those hickeys with pride
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
When He Gets Jealous-
Kyle doesn't really get jealous, and he hates the feeling of when he is. He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you
He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you, but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry
If he does happen to get jealous, he will definitely get clingy. He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very apparent to the person who's talking to you
When You Get Jealous-
Kyle is very aware if he's being flirted with, or if someone's making a pass at him, and he's always quick to shut it down
Will feel really bad if you do get jealous, and will cuddle you for hours when you get home
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He's the type to constantly reassure you of his affections for you. He never wants you to feel like he'd want anyone else but you
He would hesitantly admit that he gets slightly turned on by your jealousy
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
When He Gets Jealous-
Johnny is fairly confident in his good looks, and he trusts you completely, so he doesn't often get jealous
When he does get jealous, it's oftentimes because he's drunk, and you'll honestly have to hold him back so he doesn't hurt someone (or himself)
Will absolutely make a scene. He will make the entire vicinity of wherever you are aware that you're his partner
If he gets jealous when he's not drunk, he trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own, but will 100% step in like the macho man he is to get the person away from you
May or may not cover you head to toe with hickies...the worst has to know you're his
When You Get Jealous-
Johnny finds it hilarious when you get jealous, and will ABSOLUTELY tease you about it
If the two of you get drunk enough, you both like to see who can make the other get the most jealous
When either of you get jealous, it usually ends up resulting in hours between the sheets (not that either of you would complain)
If you get upset about it, though, he'll feel horrible and will smother you with affection once you get home
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tumbleweed-run · 8 months
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It's been brought to my attention that certified oral king, Gale Dekarios hasn't received in forever. And you know what, you're so right. There's exactly a zero percent chance that Mystra got on her knees, celestial or otherwise, for this man. Honestly I imagine there's a whole lot that she would do and yet demanded a whole lot of.
( shout out to @daiya-owoda )
(nsfw below)(holy cannoli this got long... apparently I just really want to do this)
Gale would be hesitant when you brought it up. This would definitely be a "conversation first" act, because any time you'd try to reciprocate he'd gently redirect you.
Not for lack of wanting (gods does he want) the idea of your lips wrapped around his cock genuinely breaks him for a few moments. But he's determined to make you feel good, maybe he's still trying to prove he's worth it for you to stick around - no matter how often you assure him that he's everything you want.
The first time he agrees, won over by your pleading to just let you focus on him, it's done in a very uneventful space. The tent late at night when your companions are either asleep or know enough to fake it.
He's anxious enough that you check in once, twice, three times to make sure he really does want this.
He nods, swallowing heavily, eyeing you knelt between his bare spread legs. "Yes, I just don't wish to make you feel as though you have to. I don't expect everything I do to be returned, in fact if you-"
You cut him off with a kiss, leaning back up over him. As much as you love his babbling if he keeps going right now you know you'll find yourself angrier at a goddess than you should while your partner is half naked in front of you.
Half because while you coaxed off his pants and shoes you realized he might feel more comfortable in this moment if the soft velvet tunic was left on.
Your kiss seems to relax him, or distract him. He relaxes back onto his elbows.
You let your kisses trail off down his beard and then tracing the lines of his tattoo until it disappears beneath the embroidered collar. The velvet still smells of old books and sea breezes. You've seen him wash this many times but the scent remains. Probably magic meant to soothe his homesickness.
His hands flutter as you lower yourself between his legs. But whatever nervousness the rest of his body is demonstrating his cock doesn't seem to have gotten the message. He's hard already swollen pink head crowned with a tiny bead.
You brace your hands on his inner thighs, a warning. Before you dart your tongue out to lap at the bead of moisture. It's not really a lap, really you've just pressed your tongue into the slit.
A taste.
Gale hisses hips bucking his cock up against your tongue. As much as you'd love you let him fuck your throat, badly enough that you freeze, eyes glossy as you bring that image to the front of your mind, you know he's not ready for that. He'd feel terrible afterwards if you even managed to convince him you wanted it.
Not yet.
So instead, you pin his hips to the ground using your forearms. And you set to work.
You kiss first. The tip and then down along the shaft, pressing as much of your lips and nose against him as you comfortably can.
He's relatively quiet above you, still propped up on his elbows to watch. You don't watch him though, focused on your self appointed task.
You contemplate his balls when you reach the base. The softest kiss to the skin and his thighs flex around you. A tempting exploration, but again one for another day.
You make your way back up to the tip of his cock.
Now you look up at him as you hover just over.
Gale opens his mouth, probably to reassure you that this isn't expected. But you ignore him and finally take him into your mouth. Not far, not even halfway in.
But it's enough for Gale, who's open lips let out a sound, not quiet a moan... more guttural and deep. He can't hold your gaze and lets his head fall back.
You set to work, gently sucking... taking him further into your mouth each time. By the time your nose is buried in the thick batch of hair at his base Gale is openly moaning. His fingers grasping and releasing the furs of his bedroll beneath you.
Your focus becomes discovering what draws the sounds from him. Your tongue pressed into the slit of his cock is what finally breaks his ability to stay proper up. When you take as much into your mouth as you can, swallowing to keep yourself breathing, he finally (finally) rests a hand on your head. Not in you hair, not pushing, just resting there - grounding himself in you.
"I... you must..." Gale gasps out after a few more minutes. He never makes a full sentence but you know what he's telling you. You could tell he was close just from how hard he'd gotten, how your jaw ached.
"Please" you half whisper pulling off him.
Whatever Gale sees when he lifts his head to regard your request leaves him speechless. He nods instead.
You nearly choke yourself in an effort to swallow him down once more. Hand at his base almost kneading as you suck.
His hand in your hair tightens and a choked moan is all the warning you get before his spilling down your throat. You swallow greedily, eyes squeezed shut, forearms still pinning his hips to the ground.
The hand in your hair tugs, finally pulling you off him. He's breathing heavily, eyes staring at the roof but clearly not seeing.
You sit quietly between his legs, catching a glimpse of yourself in a small mirror he has to one side. Lips puffy and red, corners of your eyes wet from tears, and your hair blessedly mussed from his hands.
"You are the most singularly gorgeous creature," Gale says in reverent awe as he finds you looking at yourself.
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