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sloanesallow · 3 months

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give you my wild

Nearly a decade into their marriage, Sebastian and Sloane lead a peaceful, idyllic life in a coastal cottage with their toddler-aged son, Antony. As their anniversary approaches and they have the opportunity to spend some much-needed alone time together, Sebastian wonders if it is time for their family to grow. ✨Sebastian Sallow x F!MC Tags: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), body worship, overstimulation, dirty talk, and Sebastian's fanon breeding kink. Also domestic bliss, sharing a bath, tooth-rotting fluff and Dad!Seb. [Read on Ao3] | [Read on Wattpad]

The Sallow homestead is a quaint, modest cottage on the English coast, surrounded by rolling hills and sprawling fields as far as the eye can see. It is paradise for Sebastian and his wife, their own little slice of heaven away from the hustle and bustle of the wizarding and muggle worlds.

Wife—Sebastian’s lips turn up in a lopsided grin at the word as he thinks about how lucky he is to have Siobhan—Sloane—as his bride. Ten years now he’s known her, and for ten years they have been inseparable, blossoming from friends to lovers to soulmates to parents. Every day is a blessing, the peace hard-earned and well-deserved after the turmoil of their younger years.

The decision to settle down came only after the birth of their son, Antony. His arrival was not necessarily planned, but welcomed nonetheless, allowing the married couple to retire very early from their Ministry positions. Instead of traveling the world as a curse-breaking-healer duo, the two focus on research while raising their young tot. To Sebastian’s everlasting surprise, fatherhood comes naturally to him, and he thrives, wondering why he ever cared about notoriety when life’s greatest treasure is family—home.

Despite the isolation, their location is in close enough proximity to Nottingham, where Sloane’s father resides. A few hours by muggle means, Mr. Sloane—Grandpa Sloane—is always ready to lend a helping hand. He is the type of parental figure Sebastian always dreamed of after losing his parents, forever grateful for the older man’s patience and guidance. That, and Mr. Sloane’s willingness to care for his grandson.

Even though Antony is a quiet and well-behaved child, he gets into his fair share of messes if left alone for even a second. At nearly three, he is an avid explorer, constantly covered in dirt from the garden, running in and out of the house to show off whatever bug or amphibian he’d dug up. His interests would not be an issue if Antony wasn’t also obsessed with sticking anything and everything in his tiny mouth, as if to learn more by taste.

Maintaining intimacy while nurturing such a curious child is not an easy task, especially when Sebastian and Sloane are still so enamored with one another, even after all these years. The so-called honeymoon period has endured, a bliss neither seem interested in losing. More times than not they are interrupted by the pitter-patter of feet in the hallway, and even when they do manage to copulate, it is usually with hushed whispers and rushed movements to avoid waking their son.

There’s been even more of a dry spell as of late, between Sebastian’s research and Sloane’s travels to Hogwarts and Beauxbatons to lecture students on advancements in Herbology. Antony has been rather clingy too, insisting on sleeping between his mummy and duddy every evening.

Suffice it to say, Sebastian is eager to spend some time alone with his beloved wife. Very eager. With their wedding anniversary on the horizon, it is the perfect opportunity for Antony to stay with Grandpa Sloane in Nottingham for the weekend. His son barely mumbles a goodbye, too distracted by the barn cats and the promise of a sweet treat to notice his father apparating away.

The sun is setting by the time Sebastian returns to the seaside cottage, the chilly salt air tousling his dark hair as he makes his way up the stone pathway. Smoke billows from the chimney and he can smell the Shepard’s pie Sloane is cooking as he approaches the front door.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!”

Sloane doesn’t seem to register his return, continuing her idle humming in the kitchen. Sebastian quickly shucks his boots, hanging his cap and coat on the nearby rack before moving closer to where she’s standing in front of the largest counter, diligently kneading a large mass of dough. He watches her as he rolls up his sleeves, a content smile on his face as he wonders for the millionth time what luck or divine intervention led her to him, made her stay. There’s a nervous flutter in his gut when she peeks over her shoulder and greets him with a bright smile.

“Welcome home, dear.”

Is it possible to fall more in love every day? They’ve grown up together, matured from the fire of youthful love to the deep, abiding connection of a shared life. Well, mostly matured. That passion is still present, a burning flame ignited each time their eyes meet. Sebastian struggles to tamper it down as he closes the distance, resting his hands on her hips, leaning over her shoulder to kiss her cheek.

“How was the trip?” she asks. He can feel the muscles in her back and shoulders flexing as she continues working the dough. “Is Ant alright?”

“He’s fine,” Sebastian murmurs, already distracted by his racing thoughts and the anticipation of what the evening might bring. “I think Ant loves his Daideo more than us.”

“I think Ant loves ice cream,” Sloane suggests, plopping the rolled dough into a large baking dish and setting it aside. She dusts the countertop with more flour, white specks sticking to her fingers and apron. “That’s at the top of every toddler’s hierarchy.”

Sebastian hums in response, unable to resist the urge to kiss her exposed neck. He smirks when she sucks in a sharp breath, the subtle tilt of her head inviting him to continue. Still, she squirms when he wraps his arms snug around her waist, pressing himself close and trapping her between his body and the countertop.

“Seb!” she playfully scolds as he nips the soft skin, kissing a trail up to the shell of her ear. “You can’t wait a few more hours?” she asks. “Aren’t you hungry?”

He slides one of his hands up to fondle a clothed breast. “Starved.”

“Sebastian!”

“Can you blame me?” he softly chuckles, not-so-subtly rolling his hips so she can feel how impatient he really is. “How long has it been since we’ve had the house to ourselves, hmm?”

Sloane sighs, melting under his touch. Too easy. “At least let me wash up, first. I smell like…mashed potatoes, hardly an aphrodisiac.”

“You don’t know that,” he jokes, barely pausing in his lavishing of her neck. He undoes the first few buttons on the back of her blouse so he can kiss her shoulder, too. “Sweetheart, you could be covered in troll guts, and I’d still devour you.”

Sloane’s laugh melts into a delighted moan as Sebastian continues, bunching the fabric of her skirt up until he can snake an eager hand beneath. He strokes her thigh before squeezing the flesh of her bottom, grinning at the silky feel of her underwear.

“These are new,” he comments, appreciatively.

“From my last trip to Paris,” she explains with bated breath.

“Bénis soient les français.”

He slides his fingers between her clenched thighs and groans at the warm slick he finds, the thin fabric saturated with her arousal. Slipping past the barrier, he rubs two fingers through her folds and up to circle her clit with a featherlight touch, one that makes her buck against his palm. Sloane’s head lulls even more to the side as she whimpers and rocks her hips, seeking friction.

“That,” he whispers against her ear as he slowly sinks his fingers inside her heat. She clenches around him and moans as he drags his digits back before plunging back in. “That is my favorite sound in the world, love. The sound of you falling apart under my touch.”

“I’ve been dreaming about tonight, Sloane, of having you all to myself,” Sebastian is reminded of just how long it’s been since they had the freedom to be loud, how long it’s been since she’s screamed his name in ecstasy. “Do you still want to wait?” he teases, darkly chuckling when she quickly shakes her head.

He crooks his fingers, expertly finding the sweet spot that makes her gasp and knees tremble. Sloane grips the edge of the counter as if it is the only thing anchoring her to the earth, and Sebastian presses his weight against her to keep her upright.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coaxes, lips trailing down the slope of her shoulder. “Be a good girl and come on my fingers. I want you drenched before I take you properly.”

Sloane’s core is a vice as she unravels, the back of her head resting against his shoulder as her mouth falls open in a silent scream. A surge of possessive pride courses through him—he is the only man who can gift her this pleasure, he is the only man with the honor of seeing such vulnerability. She is still shaking when he retracts his fingers, bringing them to his lips to taste her sweet nectar.

She slumps forward a little, breathless. “Jesus—”

Sebastian knows he’s done a good job when she gets sacrilegious. He doesn’t offer much of a respite before spinning her around, swallowing her surprised shriek of laughter with a hungry kiss that is all teeth and tongue. He effortlessly lifts her by the waist, perching her on the edge of the flour-dusted countertop. Sloane senses the urgency, humming against his lips as her hands drift from his messy hair down to the clasps of his trousers. He leans away for a gulp of air and to watch as she tugs at the fabric, bunching up his shirt and pushing his pants down just enough to expose his cock.

“Fuck,” he hisses as soon as her delicate fingers wrap around him, the softness of her palm threatening to make him come right then. He blinks hard—he won’t last, but they have all evening, all weekend, to be slow. Right now, he’s desperate, needy for the feel of her cunt around his throbbing shaft. Her name comes out as a deep grumble, “Sloane.”

When he snaps his eyes open, her stormy gaze is already locked with his, pupils blown and expression just as wild as his. Sebastian doesn’t mean to be so rough when he yanks her hips to the edge of the counter, but her breathy laughter and sound of approval as she falls back is enough encouragement to spur him on. He bunches her dress up again, scooping her legs up so her ankles rest on the width of his shoulders.

With one hand he grips himself, pumping his length with a few strokes as he presses against the crux of her thighs. He pulls the soiled band of her panties to the side and drags the swollen tip of his cock against her entrance. If it were any other time, Sebastian might tease her more, edge both of their pleasure until it is too much to bear. But he is already hanging by a thread, the friction of silk and the tight, velvet heat of her encompassing him, welcoming him home.

He grips her thighs tight, pulling her closer as he slides halfway before snapping his hips forward to fill her completely. Sloane’s sharp gasp morphs into a deep moan and he repeats the motion over and over again. The recoil of his frenzied pace rattles through her body and she grips the edge of the counter, knuckles white as the flour that dusts the air and their bodies.

The kitchen is filled with the sounds of their labored breathing and slapping flesh, names murmured between pleading whimpers and desperate moans. Sebastian is unyielding, transfixed by the sight of his wife spread out beneath him, so beautifully undone as the pleasure he gives pushes her ever closer towards another release. As glorious as the image is, he can’t wait to shed their clothes and have his way with her more thoroughly, to worship every inch of her skin with his tongue and hands until she’s a writhing mess, begging for more.

He can feel the tight coil of his own release winding in his gut, his movements erratic as he pushes them both over the edge. With one hand braced on the countertop, he leans forward, almost folding her petite body in half as he loses the tempo and ruts against her like the uncaged animal he is. Sloane grips his forearm, nails biting into his flesh as her inner walls flutter and her body seizes. She cries out in blissful agony, and Sebastian echoes the mind-blowing sentiment, collapsing against her after spilling himself deep.

When there’s enough energy for their eyes to meet, they share a knowing grin—the night has only just begun.

After taking some time to satisfy their more practical hunger, the two eventually make their way to the bath, leaving the kitchen a mess to be cleaned up in the morning…or perhaps the morning after that. If Sebastian has it his way, they aren’t going to be leaving the bedroom any time soon.

For now, however, the two lay comfortably in the large, claw-footed bathtub of their ensuite, the heated water relaxing their aching muscles and washing the day away. Sebastian rests his head back against the porcelain rim, eyes closed as the steam soothes his body and soul. Sloane is settled against him, her back flush with his chest, their arms resting across her waist beneath the bubbly surface.

Silence used to be unnerving until he met her, learning that two people could simply exist. Sloane is the only person who understands him without the need for words, interpreting his moods and emotions with a simple glance or touch. To think only ten years have passed when it already feels like a lifetime—he hopes the love between them lasts for an eternity.

She lets out a contented sigh, her pinned up hair tickling his chin as she adjusts. He peeks open an eye, letting out his own cozy hum. His words are heavy and mumbled against her temple, “dun wunna get out.”

“Me either,” she whispers with a breathy chuckle. “Are we losing our youthful energy?”

“I certainly hope not,” Sebastian huffs, tightening his hold around her. He and Sloane have always had a very active sex life—fervent, wild passion, unable to keep their hands off one another. “The day I can’t pleasure you with my body is the day you take me to St. Mungos to be put out of my misery.”

“So, in ten years?”

Sebastian pinches her thigh in response to her tease, causing her to yelp and squirm with laughter. “At least we’ll have more privacy by then, to experience embarrassing sex injuries without traumatizing our son.”

“Ant will be off to Hogwarts, and we’ll have an empty house.”

He smiles at the shared assumption Antony will inherit magic. It’s not always a forgone conclusion with wizarding parents, but he doubts their inquisitive son is a squib. Another thought crosses his mind, and he shifts to sit up a little, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Would we really be on our own?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” Sloane is momentarily puzzled. “Oh, well…I suppose father will still visit, though as he gets older it’ll be best if we go to him—”

Sebastian traces his fingers across her abdomen until his palm is flush against her skin. “I’m not talking about Daideo.”

Judging by her soft inhale, she realizes her husband’s meaning. The thought of growing their little family has been tickling at the edges of his mind, the idea of Sloane growing round with another child and glowing with maternal beauty—it is a vision that makes his heart swell and his loins ache with excitement.

“You know…” he drawls out his words, carefully pressing his lips against her damp skin. “I always thought we’d have more. A whole brood to envy the Weasley’s. Mornings filled with the patter of tiny footsteps and laughter…a house full of so much love.”

She doesn’t respond at first, her body somewhat tense beneath his touch. He glances up at her profile to see a hesitation in her expression he didn’t expect. As long as he knew Sloane, he thought she wanted the same—a large family to call their own. Had something changed?

“You don’t—”

“I do,” she quickly affirms, turning sideways in his embrace to look at him. “Perhaps I’ve been selfish in wanting to keep things the way they are. We’ve been so blessed with Ant…a part of me is…a little scared of changing that.”

Sebastian’s gaze softens and he dips his face closer to kiss her mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he whispers, smiling against her lips. “I’m scared too. What if…our baby is a dark wizard, or worse, a Gryffindor?”

“Be serious!” she chides through her snickering, playfully smacking his chest.

“I am!” Sebastian is equally amused, snatching her hand to lace their fingers together. She studies him, as if trying to determine how sincere he is about expanding their family. He brings her hand up to kiss her knuckles, the cold metal of her wedding band against his lips. “I want another child, Siobhan.”

The silver flecks in her storm-colored eyes shimmer as Sloane realizes immediately this isn’t some flippant suggestion, but a genuine choice, a heartfelt desire for their future. He studies her face, watching as she thickly swallows and slowly exhales, processing his words. The corner of her lip twitches as her cheeks flush with a brighter shade of pink, and not from the steam.

Sebastian takes that as a good sign.

“Even if I were to agree,” she eventually replies, not quite conceding to the idea, even as she bites back a smile. “It wouldn’t happen as soon as you say. I’d have to stop taking my contraceptives, not to mention the herbal tea you think smells like feet.”

“Because it does smell like feet,” he mutters, leaning forward to pick up the slow trail of kisses along her neck and collarbone. “Doesn’t mean we can’t…practice in the meantime.”

His grin widens into something wicked as he thinks to himself; “aren’t those the same precautionary potions you were taking when you fell pregnant with Antony?”

“That’s…beside the point.”

“Is it?” he hums. “That just means…well, I managed to beat the odds before, so who says I can’t do it again?”

Before Sloane can respond, Sebastian is lifting her from the tub as he stands, the soapy water splashing over the edge and onto the oakwood floor. She clings to him, a surprised shriek quickly turning into laughter as he carries her from the bathroom to their marital bed. He places her carefully across the fluffy duvet, her blonde hair spreading out across the pillows like a golden halo.

He covers her body with his own, hips slotted between her legs as he kisses her, their breaths hitching as his arousal presses against her belly. The levity fades as Sebastian’s hands smooth over her body, slow caresses pulling little sighs from her lips. It’s a struggle to hold back from ravishing her like he did before, his movements measured as he places kisses across her chest, balancing his weight on one arm so he can cup a breast in his hand.

Sloane arches into the sensation, her craned back as his lips wrap around a nipple, sucking it into a pebbled peak. He repeats the action with her other breast, spurred on by her labored breath and tiny moans. Her skin is still rosy from the heat of the bath, flecked with droplets of water that he laps up on his slow descent to the apex of her thighs. Sebastian spreads her a little wider, fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs as he settles before her bared sex.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across her sensitive skin. He glances up to lock onto her gaze. “The mother of our child—our children.”

Sloane’s only response is a strangled moan as he drags his tongue along the seam of her folds, licking up from her entrance to her clit. He wraps his lips around the bud, alternating between gentle sucks and flicks of his tongue. Her hips twitch up against Sebastian as he expertly coaxes out her pleasure, quickly bringing her to the edge of ecstasy.

Her breath hitches again as he moves one hand to assist, spreading her arousal with his tongue before plunging two fingers past her slick petals. Her core clenches and flutters around his invading fingers, a sharp whimper escaping her throat with each thrust and curl within her core.

“Right—right there,” she rasps, her words dissolving into another shaky moan as he strokes deep, fingertips rubbing against the spongy spot within her that sparks a tidal wave. Sloane trembles, hands snapping to clasp at Sebastian’s hair as her body tenses. “Ahh—Seb—Sebastian!”

He lets out an appreciative groan against her, lapping up her sweet release like a man starved. He’s consumed, rocking his hips against the sheets to give his aching cock some temporary relief. The exquisite sight of Sloane writing under his touch is something he’ll never tire of. Sebastian keeps his fingers wedged inside of her, gently coaxing her through the sensations as her walls flutter with the aftershocks of her climax.

“Mmm…” Sloane sighs as he gradually pulls away, giving her sensitive folds one last pass with his tongue before kissing her quivering thighs. He eventually pushes himself so he’s kneeling before her, one hand caressing her leg while he strokes his length with the other.

“Sloane,” her name comes out as a husky sound, a plea and a question all in one. He lowers himself, teasing the tip of cock against her, ready to plunge into her depths. “I need you to say it. Tell me you want—” he darts his tongue out to lick his lips, prodding against her entrance. “Tell me you want another child with me.”

“Yes,” she pants, eyes wide as she stares up at him. Sloane reaches for him and begins to loop her legs up around his waist, guiding him to her heat. She manages a reply between gulping gasps. “Sebastian, yes. I want—I need you to—” a moan interrupts her train of thought, and she presses her hips up, needy as ever for him to take her. “Mmm…please, please—f—fuck—a baby into me…”

Not expecting such filthy words from his wife’s mouth, something wild takes a hold of Sebastian’s mind. He lets out a gruff sound, something between a deep growl and rumbling moan.

“Roll over,” he grunts, not bothering to wait before leaning back on his knees to help flip her onto her stomach. Sloane lets out a surprised squeak as he yanks her up by the waist so she’s on her hands and knees.

He traces over each knob of her spine with his thumbs, squeezing the flesh of her arse as he widens his stance behind her, spreading her legs further apart with his own. She pushes back against him, seeking his touch where she needs it most.

“Please,” she whimpers, looking over her shoulder at him with a half-lidded gaze.

Sebastian struggles to maintain his composure, steadying himself as unfiltered desire spills from her lips. Her plea, laced with the promise of creating new life, stokes the fire within him into a blazing inferno. With a less than gentle grip on her hips, he positions himself once more, pushing the crown of him just past her entrance before pulling her back to fill her in one powerful stroke.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, the hot stretch of her around his girth wiping his brain of any coherent thought. All that is left is the primal need to claim what is already his, mark Sloane from the inside and plant his seed deep within her fertile ground. It’s an overwhelming feeling, all encompassing, and one that surges through him with every thrust.

At first his movements are slow and deliberate, eyes locked on the lewd sight of his cock pulling out of her before driving back in. But it doesn’t take long before Sebastian picks up the pace, his pelvis slapping against her thighs as she rocks back to meet him. Every sound that escapes Sloane’s mouth is pure sin—sweet, high-pitched cries intermixed with the most ragged moans he’s ever heard.

He can feel the tension of her body as it responds to his unrelenting force, his rhythm faltering as her core clenches tightly around him. Sloane’s orgasm shakes through her entire body, her limbs spasming as she cries out, her back a beautiful arch. Sebastian control frays at the edges and he spirals, falling over the edge after her with one last surge of his hips. With a loud, guttural roar, he comes, the intensity of his release blurring his vison.

Sloane’s arms wobble until her front half collapses onto the mattress. Sebastian keeps her propped up as he gasps for breath, clutching her waist and hips as his cock continues to twitch inside her. The overstimulation causes her to shiver, and she whines into the pillow as he lets out a litany of curses and incoherent praise.

When he finally, painstakingly pulls away, his eyes snap down to the pearlescent evidence of his release trickling out of her and staining her thighs. By some miracle, Sebastian is able to stay upright, swaying a little as he rests on his heels and tries to blink the haze from his vision. Sloane slumps and he catches her boneless form, easing her down against the sheets where she practically melts with a sated sigh.

As soon as she is splayed out on her back again, Sebastian collapses across her petite form, barely keeping his weight from suffocating her as he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the aroma of her sweat-slick skin. Her arms lazily encircle his neck, and he grins as a raspy laugh falls from her lips.

“Oh my God,” she softly exclaims, her hands smoothing across his shoulders, one threading through the hair at the back of his neck. “What was that?”

“Dunno,” is all he can say with equally breathless amusement.

Perhaps of his own volition, or because he’s still burning with a longing to see her fat with his child, he lowers his groin down to drag against her mons. They both hiss at the contact, Sloane’s nails biting into his skin. Sebastian lifts himself up just enough so he can glance down between their bodies.

“Is it too much?” he whispers, wondering if he’d even be able to stop if she says it is.

But Sloane shakes her head and arches against him, silently pleading for more, as if she is also being driven by some unseen force. He shifts his balance, lifting one of her legs to slip around his waist before guiding himself back to her awaiting centre. It might be his imagination, but he can almost feel his cock pushing his come back into the depths of her channel. Sebastian bites down on his bottom lip until the taste of copper hits his tongue.

He stays close, their chests pressed against each other as he rolls his hips, keeping a languid pace for both their sakes. Sloane sighs, hitching her other leg up to ensure he strokes deep, and rests her head against his as he pants against her shoulder.

“I love you,” she declares, and it doesn’t matter that it’s the thousandth time she’s said it, the words encompass Sebastian in a warmth he never wants to leave.

He finds the strength to lift his head so their lips can crash together, matching the fervor below. He reaches to grab one of her arms, interlocking their fingers before pressing her hand into the mattress near her their heads. “I love you.”

Sebastian slips his other hand under her and lifts her hips, supporting her lower back as he grinds down, straining to keep himself balanced so he doesn’t crush her. It’s a gradual build this time, but the lingering sensitivity brings about their shared climax much sooner. Sloane’s breath hitches and her thighs tighten around his waist, her barely audible whimper preceding more whispered declarations of love. He spills again with a strained grunt and remains nestled against her as they gradually float down from a kind of bliss they write stories about.

Sebastian could drown in the storm of her eyes and the way she looks at him with all the affection in the world. He slides his hand across her waist to splay his fingers across her belly, the two sharing a quiet, knowing look. Realistically, he knew it was unlikely anything would come from their union—unions—this anniversary weekend. But that didn’t mean Sebastian couldn’t hope or pray that he and Sloane would be blessed with a child once again.

Little does he know.

Five years later

“Pancakes!”

“Oatmeal!”

“PANCAKES!”

“OATMEAL!”

Sebastian flicks his gaze from one child to the next, feeling a little more than frazzled as his twin boys argued, Cailean and Finlay debating as fiercely as any four-year-olds can. Their shouting turns into menacing glares, prompting Sebastian to glance at his eldest who was sitting at the table watching his siblings with an annoyed expression.

“What do you want, Ant?”

“To be excused,” the eight-year-old mumbles in reply.

Sebastian frowns, still unsure of how to deal with Antony’s sullen mood-swings. He looks at his youngest, Ewan, who was sitting in the highchair with a cheeky, toothless grin. At least he hasn't started talking in complete sentences—yet.

“PANCAKES!”

“OATMEAL!”

Cailean and Finlay start shouting again, this time chasing one another around the kitchen, prompting Ewan to erupt into a fit of giggles. Antony rolls his eyes and shakes his head, letting out an exasperated sigh that sounds well beyond his young years.

Sebastian never thought in a million years that at the age of thirty he would have four sons, his genetics wreaking havoc on his peaceful life and blessing him with nearly identical copies of himself. With the exception of the twin’s blonde locks and Ewan’s grey eyes, most days it feels like he is surrounded by children under the guise of Polyjuice. And they don't just look like him, either. They all have some aspect of his wild personality, making him mumble apologies to the afterlife—was he this much of a handful for his mother and father?

Maintaining his patience, Sebastian manages to stop the toddlers in their tracks, trying not to laugh at their scrunched-up faces when they attempt to protest.

“Hey now, remember we’re supposed to be quiet so mummy can sleep,” he explains in a gentle tone, thinking of his wife who has been plagued with a cold for the last few days. “Why don’t you all go outside and play—”

“NO!” the twins shout simultaneously, and Sebastian really considers he’s been cursed, the universe delivering him his karma in the form of two rambunctious offspring.

Cailean and Finlay wiggle out of their father’s grasp and attempt to run out of the kitchen, only to skid to a halt when they see their mother standing in the archway. She’s a little bleary from a restless sleep, but as beautiful as ever. The two flash sweet smiles, folding their hands behind their backs.

“Now you’ve done it,” Antony mutters, scooting his chair up to stand. He plucks Ewan from the highchair, the babe reaching out to squish his older brother’s cheeks. They exit through the nearby door to the garden.

Sloane tilts her head as she observes the remaining two, who are trying their best to appear innocent. She tuts, shaking her head. “You heard your father.”

They are out of the house as if they’ve apparated, dashing through the kitchen door. “Yes, mother!”

With all four children outside, Sebastian sighs, welcoming Sloane’s embrace as she comes to stand next to him. He greets her with a soft peck, “sorry if we woke you.”

“It’s alright,” she says softly, plucking a stuck piece of parchment from his back that reads, dummy. Sloane stifles her laughter as Sebastian groans. “I’m saving this for later.”

He smirks, wrapping his arms around her waist as he rests his chin on her shoulder, the two glancing out the kitchen window to watch their children play. Antony is sitting in the grass with Ewan in his lap, chatting to his babbling baby brother about the plants and flowers that surround them as Cailean and Finlay run themselves ragged, screaming incoherent, toddler obscenities.

As hectic as the days are, Sebastian enjoys his life as a busy father and husband, finding comfort in the chaos. He kisses Sloane’s cheek, smiling against her skin. “I love you.”

She tilts her head back to look up at him and he raises a curious eyebrow at her devious expression. He nervously chuckles, “what is it?”

Sloane grins.

“I’m pregnant.”

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow fanfic #domestic fluff #fanfic

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shivroythinker · 11 months

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so this is something i've been turning over in my head for a few days and i'm not sure if it entirely makes sense but one of the aspects of shiv's character that is especially interesting to me is how incredibly warped her concept of love is. this is something i feel like all the roy siblings have issues with to some degree, but i think it's an especially pronounced part of shiv's character because we see so much of her relationship with tom over the course of the show.

like. i am of the belief that shiv does love tom. she really truly does, none of her behavior with regards to him makes sense unless we can take that as fact. the issue is that for shiv, love and cruelty cannot be untangled. they are two sides of the same coin, and of course they are, because when has she ever known love that was not also cruel? on more than one occasion she seems genuinely surprised that tom was hurt by something she said that to the average person was like... obviously hurtful. but that isn't incompatible with love for her. she is perpetually caught in the center of a tornado of her own feelings and they are so overwhelming and confusing that she can't see past the dust and debris and realize the havoc she is wreaking on others.

on the flip side of this, shiv is also unable to reconcile the way she's treated by tom with what she understands love to be. in the first two seasons especially, tom is so doting and loving and full of praise and compliments and reassurance. he is the picture of a man in love with his wife. but to shiv, this isn't what love looks like, it makes her uncomfortable, and of course it does because when has siobhan roy ever known unconditional kindness as anything other than a manipulation tactic or a guilt trip or a way to further one's own position? of course she clocks that tom is using her to get to power. after all, why else would he show her kindness? why else would he be gentle? love like that is not given to her unconditionally! it always has a price! she was weaned on poison! i want to fling myself into the abyss!

#once again i will not be reading this over or editing it so it makes more sense we shivpost like men #dont take this too seriously but also it is so serious #shiv roy #succession #tomshiv #shivposting

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sugaldean · 27 days

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Emily Axford is so good. This first scene with the woolf is perfect

I knew I was right to love Big Bad Wolf

"I always say I hate pickles but I loove pickles

NO STOP"

#PONDLIFE

I love this cricket. I love it.

Theeeere we go with the Kings

That boar was awful whaou

Snow hold I'm starting to despise you. And I learned about you 15sec ago. Pib AND Gerard? Fucked up

Oooooh Toy Island let's gooo

Gerard kids in Toy Island will love you, they might have fun torturing you but they will love you

Pib ily. But. How was Tomas a great king who played by the rules? He came to you because he felt he had no skills and you tricked the kingdom to consider him as a king.

Yeah thank you Wolf

Oh Pib that's perfect "you don't play by the rules - - I think no one ever asked me if I wanted these rules"

"You're gonna hate comedy if you hate three" Ally I love it

Pinocchio the little wooden boy, ex-warlock of the disturber of the worlds (Stepmother) is about to make a sex joke at the Big Bad Wolf (deific version of death) and all of his friends are treating him like a king. Rosamund is kneeling, Pib is giving him his weapons, Timothy is Le Penseur de Rodin,Gerard is holding is action. Ofc Ylfa is laughing

Oh they are all kneeling with Le Penseur positions.

Al of them trying to not die of laughter is the best medicine in the world. Ally sneaking out, Siobhan and Emily laughing so hard, Zac and Murph trying to hold it

Brennan and Lou having to be invested otherwise this episode will never end

FIVE?? TWELVR?

Oh! Brennan you genius

The best grave is not the one you dig yourself. It's the one your friend enthusiastically dig for you after thing you up to a tree. Pinocchio can testify cause them pushing him to have a second joke is truly a betrayal.

Like. Asking your improviser friend to come up on a joke in front of a Death deity is diabolical

So in the Neverafter. They have movie theater, posters, movies and the Wolf of Wall Street. Also wolves have pockets. And wigs

MURPH. INCREDIBLE. The posture? The tone? "one day you're going to die - - I know" hilarious

Add to to-do list: watching Death fuck so I can have material for real life (death?) comic material to not die

The wolf talking about Baba Yaga is everything I've ever wished from any media. That's perfection I want to write an essay about it. Two of the biggest folklore characters. Both neutral and bad.

"she's kind of quirky"

Canon in the dimen 20 universe: Baba Yage plays the Ukulele

If you want to know you can find ukulele cover of Fast Car. Easily

#dimension 20 #d20 #brennan lee mulligan #ally beardsley #zac oyama #siobhan thompson #lou wilson #brian murphy #emily axford #neverafter #ylfa snorgelsson #gerard of greenleigh #pib neverafter #pinocchio #pinocchio neverafter #mother timothy goose #sleeping beauty #rosamund du prix

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sparxemberflame · 5 months

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Fuckin'... Aabria Iyengar.

I am... In awe. I am delerious. I am chomping at the bit. I just... Fuck!!

So. Past two weeks/episodes Especially. Watching/listening to Burrow's End and Worlds Beyond Number back to back is an Experience. Having 2 seperate shows that contain Brennan Lee Mulligan, Erika Ishii and Aabria, in my ears telling me different stories 2 eps at a time is an absolute blast (shoutout to Lou, Jasper, Isabella, Rashawn, Siobhan and rest of cast and crew on both shows too you're awesome! Not the focus of this little outburst.)

Anyway it's GREAT. Highly recommend both shows and there are parallels I'll get into elsewhere, elsewhen. But.

This is an Aabria Iyengar specifically fucking Stan post.

You have made me feel so many overwhelmingly cool, awesome and intimate emotions and ideas that I can hardly begin to explain them. For some reason the only fucking thing that comes close is this. Silly but sorta deep thing about my favorite snack (shout out to snack gang) a Ferrero Rocher:

Aabria,

Shall I compare thee intricate weaving of characters and narratives to a Ferrero Rocher?

I shall. For this is no poem or any such writing of iambic pentameter. It is at best a floundering simile.

You have a way of creating characters and stories which much like a certain confectionary treat when unwrapped contains such an immense blend of texture and flavor. Each instance containing a wholly unique configuration of features bound together in perfectly imperfect unity. Not wholly smooth round but spherical oozing with points of uniqueness sticking out all over.

But yet if you dig just a bit deeper. There's this. Shell. Not a Barrier as it might first seem. But an Obstacle. A Challenge of sorts. Put there not to deter you but to provoke a moment of reflection. I think of Suvi and her refusal to process or be truly vulnerable in most situations. I think of the intricate power-structures of Last Bast and the Hint of this Wall that something Richer. More interesting, more honest and lovingly crafted lies Just Beneath.

This shell. Which you'll find is litterally Wafer-Thin. Should you ask the right question. Follow the right narrative thread. Bite into it with your teeth.

That curiosity is. Always and forever rewarded. With a richness of flavour and care that feels like a hug, like understanding, like being, at last: Home.

It is easy to get lost in that and yet even in this sea of what I can only call love. You find it. The Core. The hazelnut. A moral. Or a question, or a consequence. Something to once again think about and bite into.

And you realise. Once you've finally reach it that this core. This secret. Was Always Obvious. It was Sprinkled. All atop the very first layer. Litterally poking out. Each and every goddamn feature sticking out. Every chopped up uniquely distinct feature.

Was made up of the same material. Was the Core The Whole Time. Visible to the naked eye. But now having experienced the whole show. The whole treat. It is gone.

But its nourished you. The treat nourishes my body. The way Aabria tells stories nourishes my very soul.

Thinking back on many stories told that core in plain sight is often about Family or Love and the relationships between. Far from an uncommon subject in stories. But something about it. Something about the unique way Aabria does it in not just one but seemingly every story and character she creates. Its fantastic, its familiar and it... I can't describe it any other way than that it fills me with elation, jubilation and a deep sense of belonging and the implications therein drives me absolutely insane.

It's with my hat off, eyes sparkling in adoration and my heart full that I say:

Thank you Aabria Iyengar for telling these stories, for bringing these characters to life. They have changed me and many others forever and have and continue to drive me to create my own stories and campaigns for many years to come.

#Aabria Iyengar #worlds beyond number #burrow's end #dimension 20 #dungeons and dragons #phew that was even longer than I thought it'd be #rant #AND SHE LOOKS SO HOT WHILE DOING IT I CAAAAN'T #no but seriously she's amazing. They all are and FUCK I really gotta make this BATTLEMAP FOR TOMORROW'S SESH #ADHD is hard y'all

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yanderu-deredere · 1 year

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Ryouta Watanabe ★ picrew link

gender: male sexuality: bisexual age: 21 height: 6′1″ (186cm) body notes: He’s very built underneath his clothes. He has a giant tattoo of an oni mask with clouds around it on his left pectoral. He also has tattoos of a realistic shibari spiral knot on both his forearms, a giant octopus on his left hip that wraps to his lower back and a bit down his thigh, paw prints of past cats he’s owned on his calf and a spider behind is left ear. He has two ear piercings in each ear. He also has a mole under his eye and on the right side of his mouth and a spattering of them on his shoulders and down his upper arms

type of yandere: Overprotective Yandere

easiest way to describe this yandere is that everything they do is for the sake of their darling’s safety. they’re not obsessive and selfish; taking their darling away and locking them up is for their own good. these yandere usually think themselves smarter, more knowledgeable or more capable than their darling; this paired with them usually thinking their darling is too innocent or oblivious to be left to themselves. these yandere usually are able to justify anything they do as something that they need to do.

Growing up, Ryouta only had his brother and nobody else. Even now, he could recall his childhood fondly specifically because his brother protected him and made it safe for him. However, eventually, Fujio had to reveal to his little brother exactly what kind of city he’d have to spend the rest of his life in. Ryouta learned quickly that Lovelock was ruthless and that you needed to be strong enough to protect yourself or the city would eat you alive. All of that is to say that, if Ryouta ever found someone he sees as an exact copy of himself when he was younger, he’dtry his best to become for them what his brother was for himself. Especially if they’re stupid enough to think they don’t need something like that.

likes: cats, vaping, caramel flavoured anything, boba tea, video games, aesthetically pleasing desserts dislikes: anything too bitter (just a little bit is okay), people who abuse children, cops or policemen, most types of alcohol, nosy people

Ryouta is a part-time Kuraokami Dreamy Creamery employee. The store is located along the boardwalk, surrounded by sun, surf and other cheery stores like it. The store’s theme is pastel and cute, with their mascot being an adorable little blue dragon. Despite it’s adorable atmosphere, however, Kuraokami is also one other thing: the headquarters of a drug dealing group that specialises in selling prescription pills and ice.

His underground name is Fujin, named after the god of wind. He gained the name from the fact that he’s always trailing vape smoke behind him like thick clouds. He’s also known to smoke marijuana often. Ryouta basically does the same thing as his brother, just not as frequently. Most often, it’s just guarding shipments, receiving drugs, etc. He’s never had to shake down people who owe them like his brother often does.

Often, when he’s not working, he’s holing himself up in his two story apartment, gaming his heart out. He’s spent a lot of time and effort customising his very own computer set up too so he’s often comfortably playing video games or watching movies. Usually, one or more of his five cats are with him. He has two maine coons named Miette and Cosette, a ginger cat Dubhan, named a siamese cat named Siobhan and a tabby named Tabitha.

Sometimes, Ryouta will actually leave his house and go on what he calls ‘dates with himself’. Basically, he just treats himself to aesthetic cafes, bakeries or pop up shops nearby that he’s interested in. Sometimes, they’re for events related to the video games he plays.

Even rarer than that, Ryouta can be found in the orphanage he grew up in, helping out and volunteering just to give back to the place that gave him a decent childhood. When he’s there, his brother is always there too.

sexual preference: vers top turn ons: creampie (giving), oral (receiving), praise (giving/receiving), shibari (giving/receiving), bondage (giving), body worship (giving/receiving), sex under the influence, breeding kink, overstimulation (giving/receiving)

dick size: 8.5in

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere #oc x reader #male oc #ryouta #about the yandere #lemony content

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stalkedbytrains · 2 months

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Dead Letters, Missing Wife; Dead Letter #3

Salt and Siderite

Your parents call to you, "Are you alright?" as you sprint into the house and up to your room.

You barely manage to call out, "Fine!"

Letter number three was right where you left it and you immediately tear it open and sit on your bed.

"My beautiful spouse,

This ring is something I made for you."

"Ring?!" you shout as you realize there was nothing else in the letter.

The heavy paper letter gets dropped on the bed as you desperately start to search the floor for a ring. In the first few seconds you don't find it, the panic rises to a fever pitch and you forget to breathe.

Until you find the dull silver ring resting gently in the carpet.

You pick it up and look it over. It was really extremely unremarkable. Dull gray, not even silver, with a little clear vein of something that runs through it. There is a very small opaque white stone held in the middle.

As far as engagement rings go it is no diamond and is not remotely on the level of expensive looking. It kind of looks a bit cheap.

You can't help but feel a little disappointed, after all this work and mystery and stuff that you've gone through and you get a $10 metal ring.

Still, you slip it on your finger and it fits perfectly.

"My beautiful spouse,

This ring is something I made for you.

I know that it may not look like much, but I am no jewelry or forger. You should see my hands, I hurt myself many times trying to make this ring, but I think it is worth it.

While it may not look like much, it is made from siderite, a rare metal that has only ever been found within meteorites and occasionally found within some space debris like materials retrieved from the moon.

This celestial metal is said to have some unique and extremely helpful properties. Namely, it is something that can be anathema to creatures from outside the realm you are familiar with.

It has also been treated with salt, and I don't think I know that you need to be told what the folklore is around salt. I remember how obsessed you were around that show that had just started coming one when we were young.

This ring will keep you safe. I promise that. I swear on the life that I have.

Salt and siderite.

As long as you have this ring and you wear it as a representation of our wedding vows, you will be protected.

My love for you will out last this world,

Siobhan"

You look down at the ring on your left hand. It's dull and simple and beautiful. You can't stop thinking about Siobhan's hands.

She always had nice hands, always cold, but nice to hold. You remember always grabbing her hand to walk with her wherever you went. You told her is was because she was always so cold that you wanted to keep her warm.

You miss holding her hand.

This ring, how simple but complicated it is, makes you think even more about Siobhan. How much hurt did she put herself through, how much work did it take to make this ring by hand?

Now you feel a little bad. She has done all this work, all for you. And you haven't done anything for her.

All of this because of the things that you said and promised as a child.

Is she doing this for who she thinks you are? Who you were years ago?

Surely you've changed. Your interests and tastes have changed since you were a child. Haven't they?

What about Siobhan? Surely she can't be exactly the same?

It has been at least six years since you were together. Six years. That is a third of your life so far.

A third of her life.

What differences can happen in such a time?

Even the earth is moving to different places in outer space.

Things have changed. They've had to.

Without change can things ever really be said to be alive?

You think many big and deep thoughts as you idly play with the new ring on your finger.

Despite your curiosity, despite your desire to see Siobhan and reunite with her, you had to take some time and think before you open the next letter.

And sometimes life gets in the way.

The letters faded to the background as you had to get back to school and do your studies and work.

The piles of letters and boxes and everything became part of the background.

my kofi with all my fiction

#dead letters missing wife #cosmic fiction #original fiction #if anyone spots the k-os lyric points to you #not as many points if someone spots the bloodborne reference too

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blazingphantom · 11 months

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W&W headcanons as the old plot

It has infected my brain, feel free to add to it! So, we've all seen the post based on the old plot? Well im trying to expand -that- universe- dfjskdks I like to feel- it caters into the more creepier imagery- like Coraline, so we get equal funny, yet terrifying scenes- as we know Henry Selick can pull of both

Kat in this universe still has her parents

She's child-hood friends with Raul this time

Wilma and Delroy, and Mariana send their daughter and son to this catholic school, little do they know- chaos unravels

This time the school is a boys & girls school (and Raul still faces some bullies)

Siobhan and the S's are still here, but they don't really talk with Kat

Kat still has her afro-punk style much to the nuns dismay

Manberg and Helley are a demon hunting duo, but both have different views

Though unlike the movie we have today, Manberg is a lot nicer to Helley

It's set in the early 2000's

Rustbank is thriving, getting newer tourists each summer and so on. As the outlook is a popular spot

Though on most days, Rustbank is lacking a certain 'joy' to it- but luckily the inhabitants that live there are welcoming enough

Kat and Raul are seen as the 'rebellious' teens within the school, so unfortunately they always get into trouble, even if they're not really doing anything naughty

Manberg's basement is (still) full of captured demons, but has to hide them due to students coming down to collect school stuff that the nuns hoard down there

Of course, one day Kat and Raul discover this- and they're completely blown away

Because 1- they see a strange skull carved onto Helley's hand

And 2- Manberg has a wipe in his hand, covered in concealer, both adults looks utterly mortified

They've been caught

It's up to Helley to talk them, to try and persuade them not to tell a single soul about this

Once they're out of the basement, they turn to each other

"We're so gonna tell the others, right?" "Yep."

Kat and Raul oblige. For now

And you bet- they chat about it on the playground, in private

They couldn't believe it, demons were real- Hellmaidens are a thing? Creepy, yet cool --------

The underworld isn't that exciting, no Scream Faire here (shocker I know)

Buffalo Belzer isn't 300ft tall this time, no chilling in boiling oil, he's around 11ft (Though here's the kicker- he can turn 300ft tall- when angered. )

The reason? He's following tradition and the rules- no demon lord is as important as.. *sigh* Satan

Without Scream Faire, he specializes in signing contracts for deceased souls

Basically to decide what fate and torture awaits them beyond

Belzer luckily gets to torture the 'badder' souls, and with that- he still has his sadistic side

That being said, he still eats them like they're gourmet food, depending on how bad the sin is

No way he's sending them down to the Ol' Scratch just yet

His vainness is still present, and he's still a bad father- he's neglectful and doesn't listen

Somehow, he was better when they were toddlers and kiddos

Part of him still wants to be better, he knows he's neglectful- but his pride blinds him

What does he wear? Well, not much still, apart from some special tailored work trousers, (we still get that iconic view of the belly he has)

He's surrounded by his trusty henchman imps, and he treats them surprisingly well (unlike his sons)

Wendell and Wild have no jobs this time around, they wander their realm bored out their mind

Wendell is still seen as the responsible once, and he and Belzer have daily chats

The lanky fella is still.. not comfortable with being alone

Last time he voice his opinion out of turn- he got yelled at and Belzer is terrifying when angry

The older demon has ideas for Wendell- he thinks he knows what Wendell wants in life

He doesn't.

Wild is still the dopey, precious ball we all know and his optimism always rubs off of the older demon bro

Despite Wendell still being his neurotic self, he loves his brother

They have regular excited chats about the Human World, and how much they want to go see it.

(Hellmaidens are still a thing, don't you worry)

Wendell is the more hopeful one this time around, and always reassures Wild

"Pops, doesn't look happy, does he?"

"No.. he doesn't."

They know their dad is not happy what so ever.

Another reason why Wendell doesn't want to take on the family business

He doesn't want to be bored as hell, and he doesn't even like torturing souls

They just want their old pops back, happier and less irritable dad

It seems hopeless..

That's when they got the brilliant idea- they ever had in their miserable lives!

To design an other-worldly theme park named- Dream Faire

Few months later, they've done it all. Designing it, making it look top shape for presentation later on

The only bad thing; they still had to come clean to their dad.

11ft, big blue demon Lord dad, that produces electricity when pissed off-... yikes

Maybe it could wait for another day, maybe?

#I'll do a part 2- later on today maybe!#I am having way to much fun with this alternate universe #If ya'll wanna add some ideas #feel free!#wendell and wild #kat elliot #raul #manberg #sister helley #buffalo belzer

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simmer-rhi · 4 months

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Jingle Bell Goth

Part 9

Soundtrack: Carol of the Bells by Peter J. Wilhousky, John Williams

"Bella," Cornelia called across the table again, "This fish is overdone."

"Well, Cornelia, since I was working on preparing two individual grand meals due to a last minute menu change, unfortunately I wasn't able to give either dish the care and attention I would usually. The turkey is dry too, if that makes you feel any better."

Bella's voice had gotten louder as she spoke. Anyone who knew Bella well would recognise the signs, it was time to end the conversation, or risk her wrath.

"I'm sorry to tell you, you're turkey is actually dry most years!" Cornelia laughed. "We should probably all just have the fish next year, and then you can give it your undivided attention." Cornelia went back to her meal, pleased to have solved this conundrum on Bella's behalf.

"You are not invited to spend Winterfest Day with us next year Cornelia, so there won't be any fish to worry about, at least not on my table. Next year you'll be paying your chef quadruple time to cook your Winterfest meal, instead of walking all over your door-mat of a daughter in law!"

The whole room went quiet. Siobhan made an excuse to leave the room and make a phonecall. Suddenly she was really missing her family.

After a moment, Michael cleared his throat. "I'm disappointed in you, Cassandra. You're being very rude towards my guest here. She's doing her best to be friendly, the least you can do is answer her questions politely."

And with that, Bella exploded. "Don't you dare speak to my daughter like that. Your "girlfriend" was a nasty school bully who made Cassandra's life hell before she finally graduated. LAST YEAR."

"Oh my watcher," Michael groaned. It was all falling into place. Siobhan couldn't be much older than 18... he was horrified. "I'm so sorry Cass, everyone... I think it would be best if I took Siobhan home."

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

As Bella cleared the dinner table, Cornelia approached her. "Bella, could we talk, please."

"Sure." Bella was calm now, after getting frustrations off her chest... And maybe a little bit embarrassed by her outburst? Well, at least her next therapy session should be interesting.

"I apologise if I have offended you, Bella. I know my constructive criticism isn't always well received... It's just my perfectionist and snob traits talking. The dinner was lovely."

Bella sighed. "Cornelia, I know you believe that your son could have done better than me, but we've been married for nearly twenty years now, our daughter is nearly an adult herself, and you still have not accepted me as part of your family, or treated me with an ounce of respect, even once. This is my home, and you have no right to speak to me like that in it."

Cornelia was shocked. Her own mother-in-law, Gunther's mother, had been a dragon - was she just like her?

"Thank you, Bella, that was very honest of you. I have never meant to make you feel that way. I have the utmost respect for you, to be truthful. You are a very capable woman, your children adore you, as does my son. You juggle your career, a family, your charity work. I'm envious, in fact. I always wanted to be a career woman myself..."

Bella was touched. The two women spoke more, and negotiated a truce. Next year, Cornelia is bringing her own fish.

Start - Previous

#jinglebellgoth #ts4 #simblr

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comfy-whumpee · 8 months

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Glimmer

Back again! Last piece: Equinox.

Beloved taglist: @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @rosesareviolentlyread, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @burtlederp, @starnight-whump, @mylifeisonthebookshelf

Rozen knocked on the door, and Joe opened it. He looked surprised, and then made a sheepish glance over his shoulder. Siobhan was visible in the kitchen.

“We were invited over,” he explained half-heartedly. “Nic said they had to go out, so we came.”

Rozen had received a message from them an hour ago, but they’d been asleep. It was only Ellis’s messages that were set to ping loudly 24/7. That was a mistake they would have to rectify.

“I was also invited over,” they told him. Ellis got his height from his father, and they had to look up to stare him down. “By Ellis.”

“Oh.” He stepped aside to let them in, looking uncertainly towards the kitchen. He took a step towards it. “I’ll let Siobhan know. Would you – like a drink?”

“No, thank you,” they said, tone flat. It wasn’t even his house. They glanced at Siobhan, who seemed to be ignoring them, working at a frying pan. They sighed, and climbed the stairs.

Ellis was sitting in the middle of the mattress, visible the moment they reached the landing. They paused in the open doorway, not willing to intrude unless they had to. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. They hadn’t either. “Take your time,” they said by way of greeting. “I’m here.”

The relief on his face was stark, and he sighed, covering his face for a moment. Rozen waited patiently.

“Nic called them,” he explained after a moment, voice hushed so they couldn’t hear. “I was asleep.”

Rozen’s lips thinned. It wasn’t like Nic to do something like that. They had followed Ellis’s lead every step of the way until now. They’d jumped the gun. It must have been a bad day for them, and they had always taken too much onto themself.

“They went, with – Felicity. So I woke up and…” He shook his head.

They took a breath. They stepped into the room. “You didn’t agree to this and it shouldn’t have happened before you were ready.”

“I should be ready,” he whispered from behind his hands. He was always all too aware of what he should be.

“Not important. This is your recovery and you have the final say. If you want them to leave, we will make them leave.”

He peeked between his fingers, and then seemed to get self-conscious of it and put his hands into his lap. “It’s okay. They… They’re trying to help.” His tone was unconvinced, even as he tried to persuade himself.

“I’m glad to hear it, but that doesn’t change your authority, on these small things especially. They’ll survive being at home for another week or two. You were working,” their voice firms, “on getting better on your own terms, and the last thing you need is a reminder of their expectations of you.”

His ears burned. He stared at his fingers, twisting together. “They, I can’t let them see. I can’t let them see me now.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” they interrupted, keeping their voice gentle. “The choice is yours. If you would rather it be me and you, until Nic comes back, then it can be. No parents until you’re ready.”

His shoulders hunched. He tried to keep the explanation in, but it was difficult, they could see. His lips were pressed together tightly. He felt guilty. But Rozen had spent enough time working with his parents that they had a good picture of their shortcomings, as all parents were domed to have.

Siobhan and Joe were overprotective and over-permissive. Their intentions were always good. They wanted to see their son. They worried about him. They wanted to support him. They would offer him unconditional love. How could they understand that he was used to conditionals now?

He’d been away for so long that it didn’t matter if he was five or fifty, he’d be treated like a glass statue, and that was far too similar to how Engels had treated him.

“I can’t make them leave,” he decided. The pressure was too much for him to push back. “And I did… I did miss them.”

A decision is a decision. They pivot. “Alright. Then we do damage control.”

His mum always made pancakes like crepes. They were piled four-high on a dinner plate with sugar and chocolate spread set out alongside it. There were premade, toaster-ready scotch pancakes in the cupboard. He wondered if she’d not noticed, or if she’d dismissed them as not good enough.

Somehow, the weirdness of Rozen’s presence at the table made it less weird overall. Mum, dad, son, and hired detective. Ellis was the only one with a plate, though his dad had made himself a coffee.

He bit his tongue as he caught the smell of it. It was Nic’s favourite. One of their fancy ones. And his dad had just helped himself. Didn’t ask Ellis for permission. Ellis would have said yes, but he didn’t ask.

That wasn’t fair, though, was it? It was just coffee.

He really didn’t want to eat with both of them staring at him. He wished he’d let Rozen kick them out. They were more than willing to be the bad guy.

Maybe they knew what he was thinking, because when he didn’t move, they spoke. “I advised you not to come until he was ready.”

The bluntness threw his parents off. Both of them looked away from him.

“Nic invited us,” Mum said.

“Nic doesn’t get to decide. Only Ellis can. He did not invite you.”

Ellis stole a bite of crepe. He was still chewing when Mum looks back to him. “Do you not want us here?”

He dropped his gaze. The food suddenly lost its taste.

Rozen had his back. “That’s not the point,” they interjected, tone still level. “Asking for forgiveness is not the same as asking for permission. Ellis hasn’t had control over his own space and who he gets to see for a long time. It’s hard for him to express his boundaries.”

This was what they had discussed upstairs. Rozen had told him to speak for himself, but that they would if he didn’t.

It wasn’t the right thing to say, though. Mum turned her head away. “He was going to be left alone. You told us he can’t be left alone, after that – the cupboard.”

It felt wrong, that she knew about the cupboard. He didn’t expect her to bring it up. Nic wouldn’t talk about details like that out of nowhere, and Felicity and Iz didn’t know about them. But now that they were in the conversation, it felt… It felt like exposure of just how messed up he was. Can’t be left alone.

He had to speak. He had to be part of this. He opened his mouth.

“And you can’t blame us for wanting to come,” Dad put in. He sounded less argumentative than Mum, but just as stubborn. “Even if he had told us to go when we got here. It would have been worth it to come.”

“It’s fine,” Ellis broke in before Rozen could retort. “It’s fine, you can stay.”

Their relief was instantly palpable. It turned his stomach. He shouldn’t have this much power.

They clearly thought the conversation is over, but Rozen was cuing him for the other thing he wanted to say. “That’s your choice,” they said firmly. “Do you have any ground rules?”

He took a breath. It had been a long time since he had to do this. The last time he’d stood up to them, the last time they went too far in their protectiveness… It was for Nic.

This time, for himself.

“This is my house,” he said. His voice dipped to quiet, but they listened. They did always listen. “It’s, this is – my space. So you have to ask me for things. Not get them, take them yourselves.” He looked at his dad’s coffee mug. “It’s Nic’s house too.”

“Of course, sweetie,” his mum agreed. They would listen, if he told them, when he told them.

“And don’t,” he took a breath, “don’t assume what I want. I’m not a kid. You have to ask, and if I say no, you can’t – you can’t say anything back. Because I won’t be able to argue. I’m… not there yet.”

He saw the twinge of pain in Mum’s eyes, and his dad turning his down to the table. They understood, a little.

They listened.

“I didn’t want you to come because I wasn’t ready but it’s too late now,” he finished, all at once. “So just be patient and don’t – just try to do things your way. I need to choose.”

His heart was pounding as he stopped, and he waited in the silence that followed, tensed for the pushback, the shutdown, the dismissive, cutting looks and comments and are you done making demands?

It he was just a pet, and pets didn’t get to do this, didn’t get to say these things, if he would be in trouble…

“Okay,” his mum agreed. “I know I’m not good at that so I’ll try and you can tell me off.” She didn’t look away from him. “Thank you for telling me.”

His dad nodded. “We just want to help. However we can.”

“I think there was one other thing,” Rozen prompted gently.

Ellis sucked in another breath. Of course.

“Call me my name,” he requested. “Don’t say, um… Darling. Or sweetheart. Those things.” He couldn’t meet their eyes, his face warm. “That’s what he called me.”

He didn’t want to see the tears. He didn’t want to see the pain. He had to look after his own.

“Okay,” his dad replied, hushed.

He glanced up in the following silence. His dad wasn’t really the one he needed to change, but his mum…

“What about gingersnap?”

He blinked at her. She was smiling, the brave kind of smile that he recognised from himself.

They hadn’t called him that since he was little. His eyes filled with tears and he forced them down. Crying was too tiring.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, that’s… Yeah.” He smiled back.

After his pancakes, he messaged Nic.

Hope you are getting good sleep. I’m okay. Love you.

#pet whumpee #recovering whumpee #whump #comfort #caretaking #ellis #rozen #siobhan #joe #deconditioning

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hitchell-mope · 1 year

Text

Some Kara Danvers headcanons.

The poll from last week ended with 60% of you saying “Yes Please”. So it’s time for me to make some headcanons of Kara from the My Universe au that I’ve been making. Just remember that, as always, these are karamel focused, Pro Mon El, anti Lena Luthor and anti supercorp. I’ll even link the Mon El one down below. Got that? Good. Then let’s begin.

She’s still nice and a good person. But she’s got an edge. If you piss her off. You’ll know about it. Wether by yelling, half jokingly threatening to throw out her apartment window or baking you inedible cupcakes. Just ask Samantha Arias after she thirsted after Clark one too many times. You don’t want to make Kara angry.

Isn’t friends with Lena. She was going to attempt a friendship. Then the morally bankrupt shit bitch brought out the alien detection device. So Kara reported her to the DEO, made a tell all exposé and washed her hands of the entire Luthor bloodline.

When sorting out the seating arrangements for her and Mon El’s wedding she put Cat and Carter Grant on Mon El’s side of the venue because Mon El doesn’t have any family on earth and Carter has started treating him like the brother he never had.

Has her own office at CatCo. Luckily it’s not made of glass so Mon El can always visit her for uh “lunchtime activities”. Don’t worry. Lunch still gets eaten. This is Kara Danvers who were talking about here after all.

Is less likely to give female villains like Siobhan Smythe, Leslie willis and Lena Luthor the benefit of the doubt. One chance. And if you fail. She’ll fight you like she would any other villain. Unless you actively put the work in to change. Which none of the three listed have ever even begun to do.

Is like Blanche Devereaux when it comes to Mon El. Much to Alex’s increasing horror. But hey. It’s Alex’s own fault for never knocking.

J’onn gave her away at her and Mon El’s wedding. Eliza offered. But Kara decided she wanted J’onn to walk her down the aisle. And as a compromise. Eliza officiated.

Still a top notch babysitter. Although she’s gotten into a rather nasty habit of making (not very) “fun pizzas”. But don’t worry. Mon El’s the better cook.

Likes to organise girls nights out for her, Alex, Kelly, Nia, Lucy and Samantha. Cat does sometimes forces her way in. Alex isn’t allowed to choose the activity anymore though. Not after all of that extremely unpleasant business with the mojitos, a butterfly knife, Lillian’s suv and Alex’s pogo stick.

To match Mon El’s Private Use wardrobe. Kara has, among others, a Ruby the Demon wig, a Scarlet Witch costume, an Emma Swan leather jacket and a Dark One Emma costume. And yes. All get extremely frequent mileage.

#arrowverse #supergirl #kara danvers #mon el #mon el defense squad #karamel #anti supercorp #(just to be safe)#my universe

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angelasscribbles · 2 years

Text

The King's Punishment Part 2: A Bad Romance Three-Shot

Mini Series: The King's Punishment

Original Series: Bad Romance

Bad Romance One-Shots

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Riley x Liam, Liam x Max, Riley x Max, Riley x Drake, Riley x Rashad

Paring this chapter: Riley x Drake x Siobhan (F!OC)

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Purely gratuitous sex

Word Count: 3,218

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake opened the door and his eyes widened in surprise, “What are you doing here? Is everything ok?”

His gaze dropped to the overnight bag in her hand as she pushed her way past him. He stepped to the side to let her by.

“Spending the night with you tonight.” She informed him, tossing the bag onto the couch.

“I'm not complaining, at all, but… why?”

“Liam and Max are in trouble.”

“What the hell did those two do now?”

“Do you really want to know? Because it's sexual in nature.”

“Oh, hell no!” He placed his hands over his ears as he shook his head. His eyes went to the overnight bag again, now laying where she had tossed it on the couch, “I'm confused by the overnight bag though.”

“What confuses you about it?”

“What's it for? You have clothes here. You’ve always kept clothes here.” She did, in fact, have both a dresser and her own closet in Drake’s quarters, both of which were well and fully stocked with all the basic clothing items like panties, bras, socks, t-shirts, tank tops, shorts, sweatpants, and pajamas. She had clothes in both Drake and Liam’s suite’s as well as in the room she kept for herself at the palace, her bedrooms at Valtoria, Ramsford and her rooms at Applewood and every other royal residence across Cordonia as well as abroad. It saved a lot of time on packing.

“Oh, that,” She waved her hand in the air dismissively, “I packed like eight pair of underwear, four t-shirts and no pants. The bag was for dramatic effect.”

“Dramatic effect, huh?”

“It worked.” She told him, “Liam almost shit his pants.”

Drake couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him at the image that painted. “Good. I’m sure he deserved it for whatever he did, which I still don’t want to know.”

Riley smirked, “Yeah, he did.”

“Have you eaten? Would you like some dinner?” He asked her.

Riley considered him for a moment, then pulled out her phone, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “Dinner can wait.”

“What are you doing?”

She gave him a wicked grin, “I’m about to give you an extra special treat. Besides, I was promised a threesome tonight and goddamn it, I’m getting one!”

“Uh….what?”

“Not like that. Don’t worry. I know you don’t swing that way. I’m ordering another woman.”

“Just like that? Like having room service sent up?”

“Yes, Drake. I have booty calls on speed dial, don’t look so surprised.”

“I’m not surprised that people want you, Riley. That’s kind of your superpower. I just….you really want….”

“Drake.” She stepped into his personal space and ran a hand down his chest, “Ever since you found out about me and Hana, you’ve been making jokes about wanting to watch me with another woman. Or was that all just talk?”

He felt his dick twitch at the mental image she provoked, “Yeah, no. I most definitely do want to see that!”

“Then tonight’s your lucky night. Now stop questioning it and kiss me.”

Fire flared through his eyes, deepening from his usual brightness to a darker, hammered copper shade, the subtle gold flecks standing out a little sharper. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her into his body so that he could comply with her demand. Her head was already tipped up to him, waiting, her full, lush lips parted in invitation. He licked her bottom lip, grazing it with his tongue before pulling it between his teeth. She moaned into his mouth as their tongues collided.

Riley pulled away and shoved him backwards, “Sit.” She ordered as he fell back onto the couch. His hands reached for her greedily as she straddled him. He surged upwards, capturing her lips again as his hands slid under her shirt.

He groaned as his hips thrust up and his hands rolled across her breasts, their mouths still locked on each other. Riley quickly unbuttoned her top, exposing her bare chest to him. She pulled away from his kiss. He jerked upwards trying to recapture her lips, but she tipped her head away and laughed, instead, using her hands to guide his head into her chest. He set to work sucking and licking at her tits with vigor. They spent several long minutes exploring each other with hands, fingers, tongues, and lips.

“Goddamn, just let me inside you right now.” He breathed.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” She teased.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Riley pulled away with a seductive grin. “There’s the threesome I ordered.”

“Don’t leave.” Drake groaned, reaching for her. His hands grabbed only empty air as she vacated his lap.

“Trust me, you’re going to enjoy this. Now be a good boy and go wait in the bedroom. I have something in that overnight bag I want to change into.”

Drake stood and reached for her again, “You could just come naked.”

She danced out of his reach with a smirk, “Bedroom. Now.”

“Fine.” He grumbled as he made his way to his room to wait, but he couldn’t deny the arousal and anticipation swirling through him. He pulled off his shoes and socks, untucked his shirt, pulled a dark blue, contoured wingchair next to the bed and sat down to wait.

Riley entered the room a few minutes later with another woman in tow. She looked vaguely familiar. Obviously she worked and/or lived at the palace because she’d gotten to his room so quickly, so he’d probably seen her before. But it was the sight of Riley that knocked the breath from his body. He inhaled sharply as he took her in.

“Are you nervous?” She asked in amusement as she took a quick selfie and sent it off in a text to Liam, to make sure he knew what he was missing.

Drake swallowed thickly. “No…yes.” His eyes traced her movements as she sashayed around the bed in the stupidly short negligee that left very little to the imagination. It was clingy where it should be, flaring out at the bottom, the neckline plunging almost to her navel. It was a patchwork of red lace and silk, revealing tantalizing glimpses of smooth, glowing skin.

“You said you wanted to watch.”

He licked his lips and nodded, eyes still locked on her.

“Drake, this is Siobhan. Siobhan, Drake.”

His eyes flicked over to the other woman standing in his bedroom. She was shorter than Riley, her hair was dark, like Liam’s, long like Riley’s, but straight, smooth, glossy. She was pretty. Not as pretty as Riley, but she had pouty, kissable lips and curves in all the right places. He couldn’t deny that Riley managed to pull hot women. Her ability to attract whatever attention she wanted apparently didn’t apply just to men.

He only wanted Riley. But he couldn’t deny that the thought of this woman’s lips wrapped around him made his dick throb a little. His eyes must have lingered there too long, Riley noticed.

“You like her mouth?” She asked, grabbing and pinching the other woman’s cheeks, “It is a very pretty mouth.”

Riley wound a length of hair around her hand as she brought her mouth to Siobhan’s and ran her tongue across the woman’s bottom lip. Siobhan shuddered; her eyes trained on Riley like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Like she would drown in her desire for her. Drake recognized the look, and the feeling. He watched while Riley bit into Siobhan’s bottom lip, then sucked it between her own lips. Riley pushed her tongue into Siobhan’s mouth, still holding her hair with one hand, while the other hand squeezed one of her very ample breasts.

“Fuck me.” Drake groaned, his pants suddenly too tight.

Riley stepped back with a seductive grin, “Oh, we’ll get to that alright. But first, some ground rules. You don’t touch her, unless I tell you too, got it?”

He lunged out of the chair, arms shooting out to encircle her, jerking her forward with a growl, “You’re the only one I want to touch. I just want to watch!” He lowered his head and started nipping at the side of her neck.

“Perfect.” She smiled as she pushed him away, “Now stand there and be a good boy. Siobhan, help me undress him.”

“With pleasure, my queen!”

Riley had given up on trying to convince Siobhan that she didn’t have to call her that, mostly because she’d come to like it. The way she said it made it sound so sexual, just like Liam did when they were alone.

Siobhan moved to Drake’s side; quickly reaching to shove his shirt from his shoulders. Riley’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, bending her arm back a little. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to get her attention, “The same rule goes for you. You touch him only when, where and how I tell you. Understood?”

Siobhan nodded, frozen, eyes locked on Riley, awaiting further instructions.

Riley released her arm as a slow, satisfied grin spread across her face, “That’s my good girl. Now take his shirt off.”

As Siobhan worked his shirt off, Riley pulled his belt off, unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper down. She pushed the top of his pants and boxer briefs down, until they tangled around his ankles. His erection sprang free, rock hard and glistening with precum.

“Drake, step out of those pants and sit down in that chair.” Riley ordered. “Siobhan, don’t let him touch me.”

“Yes, my queen.” Siobhan moved behind Drake, grabbing both his wrists and pinning them behind him. Before he realized what she was doing, he found his hands restrained with a pair of handcuffs.

Riley shoved his legs apart as she got down on her knees in front of him. Making direct eye contact she placed the flat of her tongue at his base and licked all the way up the shaft. A primal sound issued from the back of his throat as he watched her, “Fuck, Riley!”

She smiled up at him then ran her tongue lightly around the tip until he was trembling with the strain of not being able to touch her. His entire body arched toward her, silently begging for her to take him all the way into her mouth and to stop being gentle. She lapped the precum off his tip with a flick of her tongue then moved away.

“Please!” He gasped out.

“Siobhan, your turn.” She grabbed the other woman by the hair and kissed her, hard, then whispered, “Don’t let him cum yet. If you make him cum, you won’t, not tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

Siobhan nodded as she sank to her knees in front of him. He was filled with equal parts anticipation, desire and fear. Before he could look at Riley to make sure she was ok with it, Siobhan had him in her mouth. He watched as she took him all the way in, moving her mouth slowly up and down.

“Drake.” At the sound of Riley’s voice, his eyes snapped up to her. She slid the negligee down her body and stepped out of it. His eyes stayed glued to her as she poured some massage oil into the palm of her hand, rubbed her hands together then began to massage her own breasts. She played with them, pinching the nipples, rolling them between her fingers, lifting one tit as she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to lap around her own nipple.

“Jesus, Riley!” His body lurched forward, but his momentum was stopped by the fact that his hands were restrained behind the chairback.

“Siobhan, get up and come here.” Riley commanded.

The other woman rose immediately from her knees and went eagerly into Riley’s arms.

“I want to taste him on you.” Riley told her before running her tongue across Siobhan’s lips then kissing her deeply.

Drake watched Riley basically lick him off Siobhan’s lips and suck him from her mouth. His head fell back, as he struggled against the cuffs, “Oh Jesus fucking Christ!”

Drake was ready to explode, and he couldn’t even stroke himself. He watched as Riley walked toward him with a sway in her hips. His eyes devoured her, tension coiled tight inside him, ready to pounce if given a chance.

Riley sank to her knees in front of him once again, only instead of using her mouth, she leaned into him, pressing his cock between her tits and sliding herself up and down his length. Sounds escaped him that he’d never made before and sweat beaded on his brow as he pushed his body off the chair, moving himself frantically between her breasts. Just when he thought he was about to erupt, she stopped. She moved away as he continued to strain toward her, helpless, high-pitched grunts spilling from him.

“Riley….please….”

“Oh, no, babe. You wanted to watch. You haven’t watched yet. Siobhan, come here.” Riley threw herself onto the bed and crooked a finger at her companion.

Siobhan bounced onto the bed then stopped, asking permission first, “Can I taste you, my queen?”

“You may.”

Siobhan crawled up Riley’s body, kissing her bare skin as she went. She took her time, delighting in every swipe of her tongue on Riley’s soft, supple flesh. She worked her way slowly up, kissing and licking her trembling stomach, smoothing her tongue over her breasts, lapping her way up Riley’s neck until she made it to her lips. Their lips clashed together as primordial, guttural sounds issued from Drake’s throat.

Siobhan reversed directions, her lips gliding down again. When she positioned herself between Riley’s legs and looked up at her queen for approval, Riley moved her fingers in a spinning motion and Siobhan complied by swinging her body around so that her mouth was over Riley’s pussy, and her pussy was hovering over Riley’s.

Drake felt like he was in a fever dream as he watched, unable to touch her, unable to touch himself, as the two women pleasured each other.

Siobhan came first, pausing her own ministrations as she cried out her orgasm. Then she swung herself around to attack the soft flesh between Riley’s legs with renewed vigor. When Riley screamed, arching her back off the mattress, Drake thought he was going to cum right then. His dick was harder than it had ever been in his life, and it was throbbing almost painfully.

“Riley…baby….”

“Yes, Drake?” She asked innocently.

“I want to touch you so bad….please….”

“Siobhan, uncuff the man. It’s your turn to watch.”

“May I touch myself while I watch my queen?”

“Yes, you’ve been a very good girl.” Riley responded.

The moment Drake was free of the cuffs, he dove for the bed, grabbing her legs and yanking her forcefully down with a deep, throaty growl. His release had been denied for so long that he was on a razors edge between pleasure and pain. He’d thought that all he wanted was to bury himself in her, but despite the overwhelmingly erotic pleasure he’d derived from watching the two women together, he felt a deeper, more primal need to reclaim her, to possess her, to make her scream out his name. To reassert his dominance, to prove that, no matter what Siobhan had done to her, no matter how much Riley had enjoyed it, no matter how often Riley allowed Siobhan into her bed, no matter what, she was still his and no one could make her feel as good as he could.

He pushed her legs apart, pressing them both down into the bed as his fingers dug into her thighs, his mouth attacking the naked skin of her inner thigh. He sucked hard enough to bruise, needing to mark her, to lay claim to her, to brand her as his. He didn’t stop until he’d left bruises up and down the inside of both of her legs, from just above the knees to the crook where the legs attach to the pelvis.

He pulled back and surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction before running his tongue along her crevice. He plunged one finger, then two, inside her as his tongue worked at her clit. He set a relentless pace as she writhed and bucked beneath him. Her hands sank into his hair, the tell tale feel of her grip tightening as she pulled harder at his hair telling him she was almost there. He picked up the pace even more as he crooked his fingers inside her and suddenly she was thrashing against him, crying out his name as hot liquid coated his fingers. He withdrew them and used his tongue to lap it up.

“Drake-“

Before she could say another word, he backed off the bed onto his feet, pulled her down, flipped her over and entered her from behind.

“Oh God, yes! Fuck me harder!” Riley cried out, her hands fisting the sheets as she pushed back against him.

Drake’s thrusts were already frantic as he rushed towards the climax that he’d been denied for so long. But this time he was in control. From the chair he’d vacated, he heard Siobhan cry out as she pushed herself over the edge. He never took his eyes off Riley though, her perfect, plump ass in the air just for him, her body rocking back and forth as he hammered into her. Her soft moans and whimpers turning into loud groans and gasps as she rammed herself back into him.

“Fuck, Drake, I’m going to cum again!” Her whines increased in pitch and length until he felt her clenching around him.

That was it, all he could take. He slammed into her one more time, hard, the force of it sending them both crashing to the bed, her pinned between him and the mattress. He lay on top her, his sweat mingling with hers as he pulsed into her, wave after wave of ecstasy washing over him. The orgasm denial had built the tension higher and higher so that when the thread of his restraint finally snapped, a flood of endorphin laced euphoria crashed through him, shocking in its intensity. “Fuck, Riley….” He breathed into her neck.

“Mmmm.” Was all she managed in way of an answer, marinating in her own post orgasmic bliss.

When he could finally move again, he rolled off of her and climbed further into the bed to collapse on his back, chest heaving as he looked up at the ceiling. “Jesus. That was….fuck.”

“You’re welcome.” Riley giggled as she crawled up next to him. She looked over at Siobhan and motioned to her, “Come on, you too.”

Siobhan smiled as she clambered into the bed and snuggled happily up under Riley’s outstretched arm, resting her head on her queen’s chest.

Riley’s other hand reached down to entwine her fingers through Drake’s. She sighed in contentment as she turned her head to gaze up at him. She was satisfied that she’d made his fantasy come true and thoroughly enjoyed herself in the process. The night had turned out pretty damn good for her after all.

That didn’t mean that Liam and Max were off the hook though. Not by a long shot.

#the kings punishment #bad romance #angelasscribbles #drake walker #riley brooks #drake x riley #trr poly #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #the royal romance fanfic #drake x mc #Riley x Siobhan #trr #choices #the royal romance #choices stories you play

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