#if he's tired I work as an excellent chair

[deepestnightcolor]

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x afab!reader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay. 

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?” 

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look. 

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is  back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?” 

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?” 

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds. 

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further. 

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

 You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #fanfic #smut #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #harvey x farmer

[alastorss]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You've never seen Alastor sleep before.

He's always lurking around in shadows—here and there and everywhere at once. But you hardly see him and his toothy grin past his working hours.

Yet here he is, head down on the table. The usual crackling static noise that follows him wherever he goes is missing, making the room eerily quiet. It's so horribly silent that you can hear the faintest shaking of the porcelain cup against the plate.

You'd only meant to bring him a coffee. You didn't mean to intrude on his break.

You're part way through deciding if you should turn and escape while you can—god knows what would happen if he found out you were staring at him while he slept. Maybe he would laugh it off and reassure you with that malicious undertone of his, or maybe he would kill you where you stand. You could never tell with him exactly what he was thinking.

"Well, are you just going to stare at me?"

You freeze, porcelain clinking together as you jolt in your spot.

"I brought you a coffee," you manage to stammer out, placing it down beside his head which is still buried in his arms. "Charlie said you might need one."

Static fills the room again as he opens his mouth, your hairs pricking up and standing on end. "How kind of you," he hums, sounding entirely uninterested.

Finally, he raises his head to look at you. He seems bleary still—completely unlike his normal sharp self. The demon tries to blink the sleep from his eyes, but to your annoyance still has that shit-eating grin plastered ear-to-ear.

Against your better judgement, you ask him: "Are you okay? You seem—"

"Tired. I know," Alastor interrupts, eyes narrowing at your inquisition. "You have nothing to worry about, my dear."

You blink at him a few times, watching as his smile slowly shrinks the longer you remain quiet. He hates this, feeling seen and being fretted over. Loathes it more than anything in Hell.

And, well. He was having quite a nice nap until you woke him up with that incessant shaking. Was he really that terrifying even in such a docile state?

He can feel his smile fading faster and faster, hopes dashed of having the chance to fall asleep again lest he end up vulnerable with you knowing he was unguarded. How terrible.

Only one solution, then.

"Why don't you join me for a siesta?"

You gawk at him, looking absolutely bewildered. "Y-You— huh?"

It would put him at ease to know you were asleep before he is; that you aren't poking your nose around in business you shouldn't be. He could keep you asleep with white noise for as long as he pleased.

"Come, sit."

Alastor kicks the chair opposite of him out from the desk, urging you to take a seat across from him. Hesitantly, you do. It fills him with deep satisfaction that you're trembling as you do, probably only obeying him out of fear.

You're quite amusing, really. Charming in a cute way. You were so forgettable when Charlie decided to take you in, but perhaps he should play with you a little.

He has found this place boring lately. You'd be an excellent way to solve all his problems with that nervous, flustered look on your face.

Alastor's smile bounces back to full size, fangs flashy and alluring as he grins at you.

"Go on," he chuckles, voice breaking with static. "I won't bite."

Oh dear. What have you gotten yourself into?

#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin x reader #radio demon

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 

 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 

Would Harrington pitch a fit? 

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 

Several somethings, in fact. 

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 

An unfair advantage, really. 

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 

"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 

"Anybody else?" He asked. 

"Nobody human." Steve replied. 

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…" 

"You take any today son?" 

Steve his head. 

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 

Course he hadn't. 

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 

#hands on knees #this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff #FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this. #Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03 #Eddies POV change would be chapter two #Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain. #also I updated this very fast for me #no one get excited Idk the brain is doing #steddie #beat to shit Steve Harrington #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne as a BAMF #I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post #pre steddie #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #tw injuries #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

[sukuslutx]

Just the two of us. — R. Sukuna

— for just how long could you keep up the tough act?

Feat. true form!Sukuna, fem!reader

CW: minor death (of an npc), blood, rough sex turned soft kinda, you are also a jujutsu sorcer with a cursed technique, breeding,he has two dicks, hair pulling, Sukuna being a tease, angst if you squint – also kinda not proofread

wc ~ 4.9k

Note: My biggest red flag gotta be thinking I could personally be such a bitch to him and still get away with it.

''Sukuna-sama called for you'', you hear the maid say in a lowly tone, barely audible against the backdrop of your contemplative gaze out the window into the lush gardens below. The day held promise in its sun-kissed embrace, yet a subtle disquiet lingered in the air. You grinned at your own reflection in the mirror, pausing your makeup adjustments, acknowledging the maid with a simple nod before she retreated.

You got off the chair and made your way there, a soft melody dancing from your lips as you traversed the halls to Sukuna's chambers. Irritatation and annoyance both suddenly washing over you as you heard the loud sounds coming from inside the room. You supressed a sigh and instead giggled to yourself as you opened the door and entered.

''Sukuna-sama, feels so good'', the woman on his lap babbling, fucked out of her mind already as she was mindlessly bouncing on him. You noticed that he didnt actually give a single care about the woman in front of him when his eyes met yours. He knew you were watching, flashing you an annoying grin. The next thing he felt was blood splashing on his face. The woman's head exploding right in front of him.

''So fucking loud, such a bother'', you said as you approached him. Whatever was left of the body falling backwards and off his lap, you kick it to the side out the way as you stood in front of him.

''Why must you make me do this shit'', your tone annoyed as you pressed your hands onto his chest.

''It's quite entertaining dont you think'', he looks down at you, one pair of his hands coming to grab your hips. You leaned in closer, your lips curling into a smirk as you met Sukuna's gaze with a mixture of amusement and defiance. "Entertaining, perhaps'', your lips brushed over his but just as they were about to connect completely you move your head back, „but I tire of cleaning up after your messes," you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain.

Sukuna chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer. "Oh, but my dear, you will always do anything for me, would you not?" he remarked, his tone laced with mockery.

You gritted your teeth, suppressing the urge to lash out at him. Instead, you forced a smirk and pushed against his chest, breaking free from his grasp. "I excel at many things, Sukuna," you countered, your voice ice-cold, "but indulging your whims may not be one of them anymore."

Sukuna's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something else, something darker and more primal. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice low and husky as he took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Despite your best efforts to resist, a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine, igniting a fire deep within you that threatened to consume you whole. It was always like this with him. You hate that he was right, you would do anything for him, hell you would bend over backwards if he demanded without a second thought, but he was the same.

''I still don't get why you need these lowly women, when you know that no one can satisfy you like I do'', you spoke back at him, your voice laced with an icy edge as you came closer to him again pushing him back onto his chair. ''Perhaps so, but it makes the sex better overall when I get you worked up'', he chuckles.

''Stop talking'', you tell him as you move down to your knees in between his spread legs. Two of his dicks towering in front of you as you licked your lips deliciously. Amusement danced in his eyes as you brazenly mirrored his demeanor, your defiance is always such a delightful spectacle. None dared to challenge him, yet you, with your unwavering spirit still did, unafraid of the consequences that might follow. You weren't scared of death, to be honest dying by his hands would probably be the best way to go out, you thought.

You flashed him a smirk as you took one of his dicks in your mouth while lazily stroking the other. ''I'll ruin you'', was all he said as he suddenly jolted feeling your teeth grazing his dick. He quickly yanked you by the hair and up to meet his face. Yet, rather than recoil from his grasp, you met his gaze head-on, a defiant smirk playing upon your lips."Don't threaten me with a good time, big guy," you quipped, your voice laced with lust, daring to challenge the formidable force that held you in his grasp.

Sex between the two of you was never romantic, never soft nor gentle. For that you needed a pure kind of love, and that was something neither of you had. In the tumultuous dance between you and him, love in its conventional form was an elusive phantom. Instead, what bound you together was a volatile concoction of desire and obsession, a toxic essence that ignited flames of passion even as it left scars upon your soul.

''You still got that fitlhy mouth on you little minx, one day ill manage to fuck that behaviour out of you'', he dragged you by the hair and threw you onto the bed. You squirmed up to him quickly ''but you love it, do you not?''.

He just scoffed back in response. ''Thought so'', you pushed him to lay down as you crawled up his chest, tracing it with your tongue. Your hands tracing his inked skin. Gosh you knew and memorized every inch of him. You positioned yourself to sit on his face, untangling the garments you've been covered with. No underwear underneath, after all it was the most convenient. You lowered your soaking wet pussy onto his face. A barely audiable sound escaped your lips, you can't believe that what got you this wet was killing that woman right in front of Sukuna. You suddenly get pulled from your short train of thoughts as you felt Sukuna's mouth attach to your folds in an instant. He inhaled your scent, fuck he could never get tired of it, the way you taste, that was his opium. Two of his hands snaking around your thighs pulling you down onto him, while the other two moved up your body to your breast as he gave them a squeeze. He started his assault onto your aching core, just with his tongue. He knew all of your weak spots so he didn't need much more. You began grinding on his mouth, soft moans already escaping your lips. You could be loud but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction this soon. He was so good at this, after all you did it so many times, how could he not be. The sensation of his tongue inside you was just otherworldly.

His lips lapped on your folds, his tongue proding into your hole, he moved one of his hand up to your lips waiting for you to take a hint and take his fingers in your mouth. You slightly opened your mouth to let him enter, tongue already lapping onto his fingers, coating them with your spit. „Good girl“, he mummbles, almost inaudiable from the squelching noises of your pussy. He moved his hand lower snaking it behind you and to your other hole. You let out a hiss as you felt his fingers proding inside. He started to bully them inside of you, his tongue still assaulting your pussy. Stimulated from both ends you started to feel dizzy. One of the hands that was on your hips now moving down to your clit, he pressed on it and started circling his thumb over it, just enough to drive you crazy. He looked up at you, scanning your features, he took a mental note of your expression, this would truly fuel his ego more than it already has. He was a damn tease though. It could go two ways with him, he will either overstimulate you, giving you one orgasm after another to the point your fingers turn pale white from clenching on anything that you could grab or he would edge you but not giving you the release you needed or until you reached an orgasm so pathetic that only left you needing more. Unfortunately for you, today he felt more like doing the latter. So, just as you were about to reach the point of ecstasy, that faimiliar knot forming in your stomach, hands tangling and gripping his hair, eyes turning back, suddenly it all stopped as he forcefully moved you off of his face.

„I cant believe you got this wet from what? Killing that woman?, you might be sicker than me“, he chuckled, his gaze directed towards you. You were already annoyed, he edged you. Not even giving you that sweet release. Fucking prick you thought.

„Why are you pouting all of a sudden? Wanted to cum?, oh my poor baby“, he laughed, „Ya know how many times I told you if you want something take it for yourself. Now, ride me“

He moved up to the headrest leaning onto it, you crawled up to him once again.

„Just shut up and stay still“, you climbed over his lap your pussy that was just moments ago cleanching over air now is just above his dicks. You never really did foreplay much, nor did he bother. You could take the pain, you relinquished in it. He loved that about you though, you could take anything he gives you with a shit eating grin on your face.

Your hand slipped behind you, coming into contact with his dicks as you positioned them to be at each of your holes. „Fuck, are you just going to push them in like that?“, Sukuna grunted one of his hands grabbing your neck, squeezing it just enough to excite you. You hissed from the stretch and you could only feel the tips of his dicks. ''Ngh- shit.'', you bit down hard on your bottom lip.

''Ho-, does it hurt?'', he cuckled squeezing your throat just a little bit tighter. You looked directly into his eyes with a cold gaze. If he were anyone else you might've made him shiver. „Fuck you“, you spat at him as you bottomed out completely onto his dicks. Fuck, it hurt like a bitch, it was taking everything in you to surpress a loud scream that was threatening to escape your sweet lips. You still manage to amaze him, even after all of these years you still had it in you to do so.

On your end, your thoughts were all over the place, fuck, you did this so many times why was your body feeling strange. You had to agree with the bastard, you were a sick fuck just like him. Both of your holes felt like they were being torn in half, yet riding him just now didn't feel bad at all. Why were you so aroused over a fucked up situation. It's all cus of him, you thought. He brought the worst in you, but was it really that bad when you yourself enjoyed it to the last bit. „Ha- you fucking bastard“, you looked at him nothing but a grin on his face as he was analysing your features. „What the fuck are you grinning at?“, you looked down at his prominent chest your hands moving up his torso. „Wish you could see yourself right now“, his lips smirking while anger bubbles up within you.

„Why you-„ you suddenly got cut off, your breath stuck in your throat as he thrusted himself up forcefully into you, the stretch even more prominent. By reflex you tried to push him down and squirm on his lap, and he does halt his movements seemingly complying, but only to thurst up once again a bit more forcefully. This time you were falling forward onto his muscular chest. Your mouth fell open as you felt the tips of his dicks hitting so deep in both your holes, and Sukuna already reveled in the way you completely started to fall apart on his dicks. You pushed yourself back up, face contorting with pleasure.

„When will your little brain understand,..“, Sukuna spoke as he placed two of his hands on your waist gripping it harshly as he moved you up his dicks, „that you can't ever win“, he grinned so annoyingly while looking at you as he forcefully pulled you down bottoming out once again, filling both your holes just perfectly, „against me“. You screamed out, not being able to hold yourself back any longer. „Ahh- FUCK.“, your back arched deliciously in his hold, both your holes twitching as you felt almost as if you were losing control over your body for a moment there. The sweet pain turning into pleasure real quick. You had to turn this around, you couldn't just let him have his fun nor overpower you just yet. You will let him have his fun later, you thought, but for now you'll try to be equal on this battlefield. Your next action wasn't calculated, it just crossed your mind as you saw his prominent chest. His nipples were always sensitive, that was something no one knew but you. After all, you were the only one who was actually allowed to put your hands on him. Due to his strong grip on your hips and your legs already starting to get weak, you couldnt get out of his hold, so instead, you traced his chest with your hands as you reached up to one of his nipples and pinched it- hard. He instantly hissed, his movements stuttering a bit already, overwhelmed by the sudden sensation he felt. „Ho-?“, you murmered, flashing him a smirk, as you pinched it harder.

„Don't test me“, he grunted, almost completely halting now all of his movements.

„Oh- I think I just might“, you giggled as you leaned forwards onto him, latching your mouth on one his nipples in an instant, still continuing your assault on the other, rolling it between your fingers. You could hear him groan loudly but he wasn't doing anything to stop your actions. „Hah- whats wrong Sukuna-sama, getting weak on me now?“ Another hiss coming out of his lips as he felt you bite down on his nipple. He won't admit he was enjoying this, and you knew that your fun will soon be over and just then one of his arms reached up, tangled into your hair and yanked you off of him. „Did you have your fun“, his face just inches away from yours.

„Hmm-“, before you even got to answer you were already pulled off of him and thrown back onto the bed. „I suppose it's my turn then“, the look in his eyes was a wild one, anyone else in your place would be shuddering in fear from it, but not you. The endless possibilities of what he might do next excited you beyond comprehension. You didn't even have the time to react before he was already towering over you. One of his arms cupping both of yours and pinning them above your head; the third one coming into contact with your neck squeezing it just right, while the other two grabbed both of your legs pushing your knees up to your chest as he had you fully pinned down to the matress like that. You tried to squirm unsuccessfully, you hated how your aching core got even wetter from the way he could just so easily restrain you. Actually, who were you kidding, you loved a man that could challenge you, and even manage to dominate you. You were turned on by the helplessnes you felt under him. He brought his face closer to you so you decided to use up the opportunity, and with some strenght you have left pushing your head up until your lips met his. He grinned into the kiss as he instantly gave in. Your lips clashing and fighting for dominance over one another, tongues dancing with each other. As you were about to detach your lips from his you bit down on his bottom lip hard, drawing blood. You instantly licked it up, the metallic taste clouding your mind, „Fuck me, hard“ you murmered over his lips as your head fell back onto the matress again. A grin so wide decorating his face. He didn't need to say anything, his facial expression was telling you everything you needed to know. There was a spark in his eyes that was about to ignite any second now, both of his dicks aching more than they have been. In a single thurst he bottomed out, both your holes felt full again. A soft gasp and a pityful moan leaving your lips as he started pounding into you, there was no holding back any longer. The perverted sounds of skin on skin contact grew louder and louder as both your holes were drooling from the delicious stretch of his thick size and lenght. The hand around your throat squeezing it a little tighter than before, restricting your oxygen. You started to feel dizzy from the feeling, yet you still grinned, you must be out of your mind. The sensation was one that seemed eternally foreign, a sensation you believed you could never grow accustomed to.

He looked so beautiful towering over you, his visage that others might find monstrous and repulsive held an inexplicable allure for you. As your eyes met his, a spark ignited within you, a spark that seemed to dance in the depths of your soul. But why were these thoughts invading your mind? You shook your head abruptly, as if to disperse the unwelcome intruders, desperately attempting to push away any notion that threatened to breach the fragile barrier you had built around your heart. Did you truly need to remind yourself once more of the nature of the connection between the two of you? You prayed fervently that he hadn't caught wind of any of this.

„Ah, whats that look in your eyes sweetheart, if i didn't know you, I would think you are in love or something“, he chuckled, thrusting into you.

„Fucking bastard-„, you just groaned, already annoyed over such a statement.

„Now, now-„ he grinned, as he began to pick up the pace of his movements. The hands that were holding your legs, pressing your knees to your chest, tightening their grip as his hips rammed into you harder and harder. You hissed, the sensation starting to be painful. His hips strained as he kept forcing himself in and out of you. The intensity of his thrusts making you jolt in the bed. You felt his grip on your hands starting to loosen until he let them completely free. Taking the opportunity you snaked your arms around his neck and pulled him closer down. You started biting along his jawline moving down to his neck, leaving visible marks on purpose. You knew he wouldn't heal them, you wanted them to be as visible as possible. You were reaching your high again, and you can feel he was too, so you squeezed around him just perfectly, tipping both of you over the edge. With a loud groan he emptied himself inside you, coating your walls white. He could see that familiar white circle forming around his dicks from your own juices. You knew this was far from over but you took the liberty to try and calm down, both of your holes sensitive. It was short lived.

„On all fours for me“, he wasn't asking, it was a demand but fuck if you were ever the obedient one.

„No“, you responded with a scoff, you were always the one to test his limits. You felt him pull out of you as he grabbed your hips tightly. His nails leaving creasent moon patterns where they bruised your delicate skin. He pulled you towards the end of the bed and flipped you around onto your stomach, your ass up.

Sukuna pulled your folds apart with one hand and same for the other hole, as he admired the view of your arousal and his cum dripping out and down to your thighs. The thoughts of brutalizing your already sensitive holes and emptying himself over and over again inside of you clouded his mind, both of his dicks impossibly hard again.

„Well, remember you fucking asked for this“, your eyes went wide as Sukuna harshly thrusted into you once again, but this time picking up the pace instantly as his hips slammed into you. You grabbed the sheets of the bed and squeezed them as some makeshift support. As he relentlesly pummeled into your holes, you were succumbed with pleasure once again, he felt insanely bigger from this angle, the feeling beginning to turn your brain into mush. Each of his thrusts calculated, he knew how to make you go insane, and as he kept going you were slowly losing touch with reality, mumbling things as you lost control of what you were saying. The feeling so heavenly, as your approached another orgasm.

''Suku-, ah... feeels so good-„ you moaned, your soft voice was like music to his ears, as they perked up. He wanted to hear more. „Hm? What was that-, mind repeating it for me?“, you might not see him but you knew he was grinning down at you. The thought of his smug face right now made you want to turn around and smash his beautiful face in.

„Fuck you“, you bit back as you tried your best to get ahold of yourself despite the pleasure he was giving you. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of being in control any longer but the feeling was so infatuating. In an instant you jolted, as you felt a harsh smack on your ass, leaving a red handprint that will most likely bruise. You hissed from the sting, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on even more than you already were. If it were even possible the smirk on Sukuna's face got wider as he continued to fuck you; your ass just perfectly bouncing off of him, taking him so well like you always did. He wanted you at his mercy, he loved that you never gave in so quickly without a fight, it was like a tugawar between the two of you, but nevertheless he knew that he could always make you crumble. You made him too, on several occassions, but right now he wanted the satisfaction of you begging for him, for his cocks, calling his name over and over again like some prayer.

He decided to pull out suddenly, your body falling flat on the matress. You instantly turned around, letting out a whine. The feeling of emptiness and lack of stimulation bubbling up within you. „You did it again, you prick“, your voice full of irritation as you glared at him.

„If you want to cum, I'll need you to beg for it“, he retorted, grinning back at you.

„Like hell I will“, you bit back, frustrated about the situation once again.

„Well, we'll see about that“, he taunted. The next thing you know, he rested once again back leaning on the bedrest as he picked your sensitive body and positioned you onto his lap. However, he was holding you just above his aching dicks. Both your holes barely grazing the tips. Your hands were on his shoulder while he held you up with two of his. You squirmed around, wanting to just feel full again, but his tight grip on your hips never let you do so.

„Beg.“

„No.“, you responded, trying once again to squirm in his hold but failing miserably. He latched his lips onto your neck, kissing, biting and sucking, harshly as always. He wanted to leave as many marks as possible. His bites drawing blood that he licked right up. You were biting down on your lip, containing any sound that might slip but the soft moans he oh so loved still found their way out. One of his hands traced down your body until it reached your sensitive clit. His lips attaching to yours as he started teasingly circling over your bundle of nerves. He wanted to make you crumble in his hold. You moaned into the kiss, hands tangling into his hair. This feeling was different. It almost seemed like one between true lovers. You blinked the thought away as you dettached yourself from this lips, catching your breath before connecting them again. The teasing sensation of his fingers over your clit wasn't enough anymore. You needed more, you needed him. All different emotions washed over you and before you knew it you were already crumbling slowly.

„Please-„ it came out breathy.

„Please what?“, he looked into your eyes. Sukuna immersed himself in the current moment, a storm of conflicting emotions roiled within him as he heard your voice as soft as that. Were you ever before like that, he doesn't recall but it was different.

„Please, I need you-„ you spoke softly again, burrying your face into his shoulder. He just hummed, tightening the grip on your hips as he dragged you down onto his lenght completely. You let out a shrill scream from the sudden stretch again, but quickly composed yourself as it turned into breathy moans and pleads for more and more. You could feel the coil in your stomach form again as the pleasure he was givng you was everything you needed and more. You squeezed around him, wanting to make him feel good like he did for you. His hands were roaming over your body and lips tracing from your jaw to your neck so possessively. You loved the sounds that he would make when he was being satisfied.

On his part with each possessive touch and primal growl that escaped his lips, he reveled in the raw intensity of your connection at the moment. His actions that were always fueled by a hunger that bordered on obsession, yet, beneath the veneer of dominance and control, there simmered a quiet unease—a gnawing realization of the transient nature of this connection you both shared.

He picked up his pace, his hips slamming up into you from below as his lips never left yours. Drinking up every sound he got out of you. He looked at you closely, analysing your features. Your eyes were closed so you didn't notice him staring.

You were a mere mortal, he thought, a fragile wisp of mortality destined to fade into oblivion like countless others before you. And though the thought should have brought satisfaction, a perverse sense of power, instead it left him with a hollow ache. He surely wouldn't miss you though, right? Someone else will come and replace you.

His fingers traced over your sensitive bud once again, as his pace never once faltered. You were so close to your high, your moans were getting louder, as the sensation grew more and more pleasurable, he could feel you tighten even more around him.

„Cum for me“, he spoke in between the kisses he was tracing down your neck and that was all you needed to get tipped over the edge and completely crumble around him. He soon followed, painting your walls white and as he claimed you with a ferocity born of desperation, he pushed aside these fleeting moments of tenderness that threatened to break through the facade of indifference. He was not one for softness, for gentle caresses and whispered endearments. No, he was a creature of darkness and dominance.

And yet, amid the brutality of your coupling as it was from the very beginning, there still lingered a silent acknowledgment—a begrudging respect for the mortal who dared to challenge him, to stand toe-to-toe with him and demand satisfaction.

Sukuna found himself surrendering to the moment, reveling in the raw power of your connection even as he braced himself for the inevitable moment when you would slip away, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory. So after satisfying the hunger that had drawn you together, you rose from the tangled sheets, retrieving your discarded robe from the floor. Sukuna watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle, his gaze lingering on your retreating form as you moved to leave..

"Where are you going?" his voice, low and commanding broke the silence, ''you won't sleep here?''.

You bit down on your bottom lip, torn between the desire to stay and the need to protect yourself from the inevitable heartache that would surely follow. "You know we don't do that," you murmured softly, the words heavy with unspoken longing.

''Right..'' he spoke back. Even though you held yourself good he noticed the shift within you but he decided not to bring it up.

''Goodnight Sukuna...'', you whispered.

He just hummed in response as you turned your back to him and closed the door behind you. As you slipped away into the predawn silence, you couldn't help but wonder if he could hear the words you couldn't bring yourself to say. You could keep up the tough act for a while more... couldnt you?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna jjk #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna smut #sukuna angst #sukuna fluff #gojo smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujustu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna true form

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny gets kidnapped by the joker. He's missing for an hour and a half at most but when the bats find him, he's sitting unbound in a chair looking at the jokers corpse. Danny's face has a soft smile and when asked what happened Danny just says 'justice'

Later they find video of Danny while tied up reading the jokers mind for absolute filth leaving him cry and broken on the floor, and the the camera glitches out and cute for a few minutes then comes back on to the joker dead and Danny free.

Danny wants it to be known that he hadn't gone looking for trouble, no matter what Tim Drake says. He only meant to go to the mall and do regular teenage things with the ward of cash Bruce had handed him.

He hadn't been lying when he said the mall back home was small, and after a lap, it got really dull. It was more entertaining to go to Nasty Burger than to linger around the few shops selling the same thing.

Alfred had let it slip the last time he came around for Danny's clothes- the old man had thrown a fit when Danny attempted to do his own laundry, and then Danny threw a fit claiming he had to do some of the chores or he wouldn't live there, and they came to an agreement to do 50/50 of responsibilities- that the mall was one of Bruce's favorite places to be as a teenager.

He didn't fully outsay it, but Danny could tell Alfred was getting tired of him not venturing out. Alfred also seemed bothered by Danny's lack of motivation for anything- and probably feared that he was slowly falling into depression for being stuck here.

Granted, Danny did not allow them to see him do anything besides sleep, eat, and laze about- with a shower every night- he could see where his concern was coming from. Danny was most active at night when he left a duplicate- he could not make it move or speak since it was a new power, so it placed it in his bed to appear asleep- and rushed away for a few hours to work on his ship.

So Alfred not so casually told him of Gotham Mall, with its five floors containing five hundred and twenty stores. The Mall at Amity Park only has seventy-one stores.

Danny was dying to see it just to see a mall that big.

Then the Butler made the deal sweeter by suggesting Danny do his outing alone, without his Wayne bodyguards, and convinced Bruce to give him some pocket money.

Nine hundred! Bruce's idea of pocket money is nine hundred, which means Danny could have an excellent time shopping. So Danny took a shower, threw on a nice pair of jeans that hugged all the right places- according to Steph- a black T-shirt, and scurried down the stairs.

At the door, Bruce talks in low voices with his sons- Damian and Jason- but all three turned to him once he appeared.

Damian's regular haughty expression evaporated once he caught sight of Danny's shirt. His jaw slacked in surprise as he breathed, "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, this? Alfred had it printed on a shirt for me." Danny gestures to the notable constellations floating in space's blue, green, and purple gasses.

Orion was the center of the work, being the only one with a figure shaped into a human with the stars that made him visible inside his body. The other constellations floating around him remained bright spots with no lines.

"I drew you that," Damian tells him as though Danny forgot where the image he passed along to Alfred had come from.

"Yeah, and I put it on a shirt 'cause it's awesome. I love it from the moment I saw it." Danny shrugs, watching with an amused grin as Damian's face flushes bright red.

The younger boy looks down at his feet, but not before Danny can spot the pure, unadulterated glee his words have caused in the kid.

"You have some taste, it seems." Damian mutters. Jason and Bruce are beaming, their eyes sparkling in a way that would belie their relationship is through adoption instead of blood.

"Most parents put their kid's drawings on the fridge instead of wearing them," Jason teases, and Danny shrugs.

"Most parents have talentless kids." He barely bites back the rest of his words. Damian isn't my kid because I am not Bruce, and he hurries to the doorway. "Anyway, I'm heading out. I'll be back by eleven,"

"You'll be back by nine." Bruce corrects, taking on the tone of a scolding parent. Danny is violently reminded of his own dad when Jazz is dating Johnny. He misses him. "Gotham is dangerous after dark. Alfred got us all to let you go alone, but that doesn't mean you can be reckless."

"Please, what's the worst that can happen?" Danny asked, practically skipping the stairs to the Uber Alfred called for him.

The worst that could have happened was that a stupid clown, calling himself Joker, had attacked the mall while Danny was browsing a gothic store.

He had been comparing two black dresses, trying to figure out which one Sam would prefer- and no, he was not blushing or feeling giggly thinking of her reaction. Just like he hadn't done the same when he picked up a personal electric planner for Tuck two floors down- when the Joker's goons had literally yanked him out of the store.

He only had a few minutes to blink in the bright light, as "Hot Topic" had been low light sightings for the store's ambiance, before he was thrown at the feet of a cackling man in purple.

His hands had been tied behind his back as they moved him, and Danny could only applause their quick hands. It's impressive for them to get it done with how much he thrashed.

Danny's first thought of the purple suit man was, "That's a ghost if I ever darn seen one," only to realize that his ghost sense had not gone off. The man just looked like that. How unfortunate.

"Well, well, if it isn't Brucie's newest charity case!" Joker shouted, yanking Danny's face up from his chin and leaning close to his face.

"Dude, personal space." He says, scrunching up his nose as the Joker's breath hits his nostrils. "Also, invest in some dental insurance."

"Oh, we have ourselves a jokester here, folks!" The clown's laugh did not hide the anger or shy away from madness. Danny suddenly felt he may have to tap into Phantom to get away from him.

This was a being that hurt others just because he could. Joker very existence was to simply harm others.

The very opposite of Phantom.

All of his instincts were screaming as Joker put his arm around Danny's shoulder and told the watching horrified crowd. "I'm a bit of a jokester myself. Why don't I give you private lessons and let these people judge whose death is funnier? Little Danny Kane or Bernad Dowd?"

The crowd parted, most gasping in horror as another teenage boy was dragged to the front. He was covered in wounds, bleeding a slow, sluggish mess, and his head bobbed as if though he was about to faint.

Danny's pupils shrunk, and his core raged as the boy was backhanded in front of him. Joker- the soon-to-be dead man- spread his arms, shouting for the whole world to be heard. "This is a special performance for Timothy Drake-Wayne. I hope you enjoy watching your boyfriend and adoptive brother partake in my game as a thank-you for your generous donation to the families of the last people I made laugh! I want everyone to know that any more donations to such families will have a similar show for their own loved ones!"

Danny's mind went white with a loud ringing, and somewhere far away, he was aware that Joker had them moved to a room to play his game.

He barely registered the camera being set up or tied to a chair surrounded by tortuous-looking items. He didn't even notice poor Bernard- already lost consciousness- tied to the chair beside him.

He only had eyes for the laughing man in purple.

But it was not Danny watching him, it was Phantom.

And Phantom was fresh out of mercy.

"No need for such an ugly frown," Joker chuckles, unaware of the ghost's core vibrating with the need to Protect what it recognizes a an attack on the Waynes.

An attack on his people.

"Let's turn that frown upside down!" Joker says, and- those are his last words.

Phantom pounces.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes an hour and a half for them to be found. It might have been more, but Danny had only counted for that amount. Bernad had been stabilized after he performed some emergency field first aid on him, trying his best to not look at the smear of bones and guts that used to be Joker.

Bruce breaks down the door with Tim rushing to his boyfriend in a frantic cry for his lover's name.

Danny steps back to let him have better access. He follows beside Bruce, watching Tim hold Bernad to his chest, breathing him in. He'll be fine. A few bruises and broken bones, but Bernad will leave.

"What happened?" Batman demands.

Danny looks up to stare at him right in the eyes despite the mask blocking his pupils. "Justice."

Bruce doesn't say anything in response, but the silence- for the first time since he found Danny in that cave- is heavy and weary.

Danny needs to hurry with his repairs. He thinks he is about to wear out his welcome at Wayne Manor. It's a pity he was just starting to like it there.

Master post link

#dcxdpdabbles #Cave boy #Part 6 #Offsecreen Murder #Danny just showed that he does have Bruce Wayne's volient reaction #Bernard Dowd #Damian was so excited about the shirt too #Danny was just minding his busniess

[buckets-and-trees]

Sweet, sweet Aspen. You have been a very bad girl. This soft!dark guy, your boss, caught you doing something wrong—something that could easily get you fired—but he decided maybe, jussst maybe, he should keep your indiscretion, and your resulting punishment, between the two of you. After all, he’s been dreaming about filling you with his cock for ages 😏

(I picked this GIF because it looks like he’s saying, “On your knees.” lolll)

well, dearly beloved sister ho, you know we were thirsting over a particularly ... inspiring gif.

I don't think you anticipated your ask to spawn THIS, but... here we are! THANKS FOR POPPING MY ANDY CHERRY!

Fandom: Chris Evans Characters Title: I'm Your Man Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 3k

Summary: You've spent weeks working to pull off the perfect night for Andy Barber's big charity event. A rush job, but you worked meticulously and diligently over six weeks to coordinate the biggest event of your career to date. You weren't the only one with a plan for the night.

Content Warnings: extortion, explicit smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT, spitting, oral - male receiving, spanking, vaginal intercourse, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Logistical Notes: A NAUGHTY submission @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice challenge. Prompts incorporated are in bold.

Additional Notes: I didn't want to write a summary. There's only enough plot here to smut you up. Dividers by @rookthornesartistry and @firefly-graphics.

You sit up straight when you hear the door to Andy’s home office open behind you.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he says as he strides across the room and takes a seat in the leather executive desk chair.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Barber,” you reply. Every part of your body is tired – tired in a good way from the long day of work – so you were eager to get home, soak in your tiny tub, and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend, but it hadn’t been an incredible inconvenience when he’d asked if he could speak with you before you left.

“Tonight was exquisite, you did well,” he doles out the praise, and you try to quell the blooming in your chest. In the six weeks working with Andy Barber to plan the charity event you’d just executed for his foundation you had seen that he wasn’t one to casually compliment, hard to impress. You had taken more and more satisfaction out of each meeting, email, or text exchange as you consulted and then presented him with options for the event when he had fewer and fewer notes, knowing you had cracked his taste and gained his approval. He’d been your toughest client to date, but by far one of the most rewarding as he had excellent taste.

“Nearly perfect,” he adds.

Your smile falters ever so slightly, and suddenly your chest floods with a chill. “Nearly perfect? I’m sorry, sir, what didn’t live up to your expectations?”

This was far from your first event, you had built an incredible portfolio over the years, and you knew you were finally ascending to be one of the best event coordinators on the eastern seaboard – you had received an email request from a goddamn Vanderbilt to plan a wedding for them in a year and a half that you were going to respond to and accept in the morning. You weren’t arrogant, but you’d worked damn hard and knew you were good.

“You.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “I – what?”

“Only one misstep tonight.”

Your brain flies back through the evening, reviewing every moment, raking through trying to determine what you could have possibly missed.

“I’m very particular about what belongs to me, and I cannot abide theft.”

Your jaw drops.

“Empty your bag.”

Now your whole body is buzzing with incredulity. You shake your head.

“I know what’s in there.”

You almost didn’t take this job when it landed in your lap. He was the reason you knew you should have said no. There were whispers about his reputation, his real businesses. But you took the initial consultation because the pitch was more money than you’d made over the last three years. Then when you’d met him, he’d been so normal, so nice, maybe a little charming, and up until this moment you had convinced yourself there was no way any of those rumors had been right.

But before you even put your hand in your bag, you knew you were wrong to have thought he wasn't all those awful things.

Not one, not two, but three Rolex watches nestled in the bottom of the main pocket. Watches you'd never seen - wouldn't even have known where to find them.

You scoop them out and drop them on his desk, eyes burning with tears. “Why?”

“Yes, why? I was already giving you a fat paycheck. What a shame when I had just given your name to the Vanderbilts’ social secretary for their son’s wedding a few days ago, I’ll have to reach out and let them know.”

“No,” you breathe.

“I’ll have to discreetly let everyone in my network know it’s better not to invite someone in their home with such light fingers.”

Your breath hitches and your hand flies to your mouth to stifle an almost sob, trying to hold back the onset of tears. “Andy, no, please.”

His smile softens. “There we are,” he coos, “you finally called me Andy like I’ve told you to so many times.”

He leans forward resting his arms on his desk.

“Now, if you go upstairs, be a good girl, put on what I left for you in my room, and wait for me, maybe I can make all of this little misunderstanding go away.”

His steel blue eyes are hard, they demand an answer.

You cock your chin up wishing you could say no, wishing you could even scowl at him, but aside from the heat and hurt in your eyes, you know you can’t do anything more without risking further ruin, so ultimately you let your chin drop and nod, resigned to the impossible power this man wields.

“Now we’re back on track for a perfect night, sweetheart. I’ll be up soon.”

You don’t know how long he makes you wait, using the promise of soon as another show of his power, but long enough that your knees hurt from sitting back on your heels in a submissive, kneeling position with your head lowered, hands folded in your lap, and back to the door as the card in the white box left for you had instructed.

Also in the box had been a set of exquisite black lace and silk balconette bra and cheeky underwear. That they fit you like a glove had been both humiliating and alluring.

Even though Andy was the reason you almost said no to the job, even though he was the humiliating reason you were in this position – extorted into a nearly naked state, no question of what was to come – he was also the reason you took the job.

Dread pooled in your stomach, but along with the dread and humiliation, there were rivulets of shameful desire.

You had taken the job for the money and for how quietly charming he had been. He had never outright flirted with you, but he always left you with the question of whether he was. You worked hard for him because it felt good to win his approval. He praised you and you had preened under his intense blue eyes every time. You had forced yourself to keep everything professional.

All for nothing since you were in the farthest position of professional now.

When you finally hear him enter the room, your sit up straight again.

He tsks and says, “Head down, sweetheart.”

Andy comes around to stand in front of you. You see his perfectly polished shoes, the perfectly tailored trousers. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. He runs his thumb over your lips, circling them.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

You do.

He leans closer, then spits in your mouth, and you blink in surprise, a surge of humiliation running through you, but his grip on your jaw is powerful, so you don’t move away.

“Close your mouth but don’t swallow.”

He moves back from you then, and he begins to silently undress. He had already taken off his jacket, but he doesn’t hurry as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, the buttons down his chest, and then shrugs it off his shoulders. He places it nicely on a plush armchair on the side of the room. Next he sits on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes and socks.

The way he doesn’t watch you but does all of this in your line of vision, knowing you have to watch, is another move meant to communicate who is in control of this situation. Still holding his saliva on your tongue is starting to become uncomfortable. Your instinct is to swallow, but you don’t know what disobedience may mean with Andy, so you fight the urge, not wanting to tempt any more of his darkness.

He stands and takes the shoes and socks to a large closet off to the side of the room, and when he returns, he stands directly in front of you again, takes your jaw in his hands again.

“Show me,” he says.

Your eyes watch his face you open your mouth, showing him the pool of saliva.

“Good fucking girl,” he murmurs. You hate the small bloom in your chest those words immediately invoke again. He spits into your mouth for a second time, then with a caress that is too tender he urges you to close your mouth. “Swallow.”

You do.

Andy unbuckles his belt, unbuttons the top of his fly, then unzips and pushes down the waist of his trousers with his briefs, and reveals his hard cock for you.

He’s big.

You had gotten yourself off to the thought of him a few of times late at night alone in your bed, most recently a few days ago, and you hated that you had since you were now here like this, forced on your knees in front of him.

Your core is pulsing with heat at the sight of him though – bigger than you had fantasized, and bigger than any man you’ve been with previously. You know he’ll fill you in a way that will ruin you for other men. You want and dread it.

“Take me in your mouth, sweetheart,” he commands.

Instead of forcing his cock into your mouth, this is more possessive, having you submit yourself to pleasing him of your own accord. You know every way he’s manipulating you.

“If I have to tell you one more time,” he trails off, leaving the end open for your imagination.

You plant one hand softly on his hip and wrap your other hand around his shaft, leaning forward to take him in your mouth. As you push forward, he groans. He won’t hold back when he’s pleased with you – he never has, he knows it affects you. His hands go to either side of your head. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, sucking him, bobbing up and down his length, and for a while he lets you control the speed and the depth, but his hands let you know he can and will control this when he wants to. After the first couple of minutes, he makes this clear when you push back to take a breath and wipe the mix of your spit and his pre-cum dripping out of your mouth and his hands firmly prevent you from moving off him. Instead, he pushes you down slowly – more slowly than you had been pumping – and doesn’t stop until your nose hits his lower abdomen. You try to push against his hips, and he pushes his hips forward with you still anchored on his dick. Your eyes well up.

“So pretty,” he says, “imagined you like this, but you’re more gorgeous than I thought you would be.”

Something in your chest melts. You wish he wouldn’t say things like that. It makes you weaker – weaker for him. He pulls back just an inch or two, then pushes his length into your throat again.

“That’s it, sweetheart, my perfect fucking girl.”

You whimper, and the tears spill over.

His right hand moves away from your face and around behind him. He’s quick, and when you can see his hand again, it’s to discover he’s taken his phone out of his back pocket. He takes photos of you, angling the phone a few different ways. Then he tosses the phone onto the chair where he’d laid his shirt.

Then he resumes his small, concentrated rutting, only easing out just enough to make the thrust back in worth it for him. As he does, he groans, swears, wipes tears from your cheeks, and the moment before it’s too much, he finally pulls you off him.

You fall forward, gasping for deep lungfuls of air, but he’s already putting a hand under your arm and hauling you up.

“Get on the bed,” he instructs, man handling you with surprising ease, doing most of the work your weak and aching legs can’t do to hoist you up onto his Alaskan king bed.

He’s immediately up as well and behind you, the last of his clothing stripped off. His fingers quickly undo the clasp of your bra and pull it off your shoulders and toss it away. He pushes you forward, toppling you down to the mattress. He slaps your ass, and you gasp and jerk. He brings his hand down on your round flesh again, with another sting, but the second one has you moan, and he lets out a satisfied, “Yes,” before giving you a third slap, the hardest, and you moan again, but this one more guttural, and you’d be mortified if you weren’t shocked over the way it translated to pleasure so quickly to your brain.

Then he yanks the lacy underwear roughly down and off your legs, tossing it away as well. He pushes between your legs behind you, splitting your legs open, and his fingers seek your cunt.

He hums in approval, “So wet for me. Ready for me.”

You huff and pant.

He leans over your back, pressing you down into the mattress. “Are you eager for me?”

“Andy,” you whine.

“Say it and I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to. You bury your face in the covers.

He slaps your ass again, and you yelp.

“Admit you want me to fuck you.”

Another slap.

Another.

“Yes,” you finally concede.

“To breed you.”

You gasp, but he’s already hauling you further up the bed, and he drapes himself over your back, arms caging you in on either side of your body. His legs push yours apart as he leans down to press kisses over your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck, along your spine. He uses one hand to guide the thick head of his cock to your leaking entrance. He doesn’t care to stretch you. “Take me in your cunt, sweetheart, it’s mine.”

The only mercy is that he slots himself in slowly.

You press your hands up against the headboard and concentrate on taking deep breaths, on trying to relax your walls completely, because he’s entering you, in you, filling you, unrelenting invasion and it’s pleasure and pain and too much and not enough because every moment of more fullness is exquisite and you can’t even think about holding back the sound he’s pushing out from your diaphragm, up your throat, and out of your mouth, because that’s how it feels as he's filling you.

Once’s he’s fully inside of you, he presses his mouth right next to your ear. “I’m going to fill this pussy with my seed.” He anchors one hand on your hips, then begins pull out, only so he can start thrusting back in. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.”

You’ve never had an orgasm only from vaginal penetration, but the way he fills you as he fucks you, and at this angle, making you almost forget to keep breathing, you wonder if this is how you’ll go, strung out as his cock punishes you with the pleasure, but then his hand works around beneath you and his fingers quickly find your swollen and aching clit. You cry out, and one of your hands reaches back to cling to him, fingers clutching into his hair. He nips at your neck, chuckling darkly.

“My pretty girl, my good girl, taking my cock so well, you close?”

An immediate, “Uh huh,” is all you can manage.

“Then let go,” he commands, pinching your clit harshly.

You see stars, and you cry out for him.

Hearing you scream his name and feeling you clench around him is all he needs, and he pumps his cum into you, saying more dirty, filthy, possessive things, but you don’t know what the words are, because you’re completely lost to coherency.

He sinks his full weight on top of you when he’s completely spent.

Both of you are silent while you come down, heartrates returning to normal.

You wait for him to say whatever he’s going to torment you with next, but he doesn’t speak.

After more long moments, he finally pushes up enough to turn you from your front to your back. He cups your jaw again and strokes his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitches at the intimate gesture in the aftermath.

“Aw, why are you crying now, sweetheart?”

No, you didn’t want more tears, and not these - the soft tears. You try to look away, but he forces your face back to look at him.

“I would have slept with you if you’d asked, Andy, why did you have to do it like this?”

“Because this is so much more than that, sweetheart. I didn’t want to just sleep with you, and I needed you to know from here on out that you’re mine. I own you. I’m very particular about what belongs to me. I didn’t want you to have any illusion that there’s a choice here.”

He brushes the tears off your cheek.

“I’ll have my men move your things here in the morning, and we’ll elope in a few weeks. I’m closing the deal on a resort in Lake Como, doesn’t that sound perfect? We’ll tie the knot and then spend our honeymoon there – we can stay all summer if you want.”

You hesitate.

“No one else is gonna take care of you like I do. Now I asked you, ‘doesn’t that sound perfect?’”

“Yes, Andy,” you whisper.

“Of course, it does.” He finally kisses you – and it’s dangerously soft. Warm lips engulfing yours, insistent, sucking your bottom lip between his. You whimper, and he licks his tongue into your mouth, lapping you up. He rolls over with you, putting him back on the mattress with you on his chest. He holds you pressed to him with one hand, the other hand securing your head so you can’t escape his kiss until he’s done kissing you.

It isn’t until you think you might pass out from how breathless you are that he finally breaks off the kiss. He shifts his pelvis up against you, his cock hardening again. “And I was serious about you carrying my child. But first you’ll ride my face until I’ve made you cry for a good reason, and then I’ll fill you up with more of my seed. You’re not leaving this bed the rest of the weekend.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

ARE YOU OKAY? AM I? DO WE EVEN CARE IF WE'RE OKAY?

read: -> THE MORNING AFTER

#andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #soft dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #tw: dubcon #aspen wrote something #navy and roo's sleepover #i'm your man collection

[devildomwriter]

A Glimpse at the Future | Lucifer x Reader

.7K Words | GN! Reader | CW: Children

Lucifer sighed as he saw the smoke slip into his room from beneath his door. Now what had his brothers done? Enough of these pranks already he was tired.

Lucifer walked through the black clouds of smoke unbothered and shielded himself with magic, prepared to open the door to mayhem.

Lucifer swung the door open, glaring, but to his surprise, nothing was there. No brothers, no smoke, no surprise trap.

Lucifer looked puzzled and looked behind him, the room he only just left had changed drastically and he heard a small cough in front of him.

Lucifer looked down and saw a young boy with black hair, parted just like his.

“What’s this,” he asked himself and the boy looked sheepish and held up papers.

Lucifer took them, hoping it may offer some explanation, and read them over carefully.

They did explain things but not everything. The date on the paper was twelve years from his present, and the name at the top was neatly written as Lucious Morningstar.

Lucious looked at him nervously and Lucifer relaxed and smiled.

He smiled at whom he understood was his son and ruffled his hair. Lucious looked surprised but beamed in joy when his father grinned and praised his score.

“Excellent job, Lucious,” he said warmly and handed the papers back.

Lucious cheered to himself and ran towards the dining room.

Lucifer followed cautiously. He wasn’t sure how he got to the future or if this was some grand illusion of his desires but he wanted to explore it either way.

He walked in hand over his chest in surprise to see you setting the table for five.

The House of Lamentation was much quieter, it seemed none of his brothers still lived there. He wasn’t sure if that was his greatest dream or if it was the fact you were there still.

You locked eyes with him and smiled, welcoming him home early.

Lucifer grinned and decided he would play along.

You walked up to him and kissed his cheek, Lucifer wrapped his arms around you and held you in a hug for a long time.

“Aww, did you miss me?” You asked him, chuckling,

Lucifer nodded, “more than you know.”

You looked concerned for a moment, “was work rough today?”

“You could say that…” Lucifer said. This was half true as in the present he’d been doing paperwork to make up for Diavolo wasting time on a grand prank.

Lucifer looked around the room and you led him to his chair. He shook his head and pulled out the chair for you. You blushed and sat down as he scooted you back into the table and took his own seat.

“So…how was everyone’s day?” He asked you and the three children.

“Good!” Lucious exclaimed.

“It was fine,” the girl chimed in quietly and the youngest boy nodded.

The girl had long black hair with a white streak and the youngest boy had fully black hair and his eyes resembled yours.

Lucifer grinned and together the five of you ate the soup you’d made.

You watched Lucifer and smiled. Something was different about him but you decided you’d ask him later.

After he was finished eating, Lucifer saw smoke in the corner of his eyes and frowned. He looked at you one last time and promised, “I’ll see you again soon.”

“Lucifer?” You asked, worried, and stood up abruptly. Suddenly your husband disappeared and the door to the dining room opened.

Lucifer looked puzzled as he looked at his partner and children, all surprised and anxious.

“D-daddy!” Lucian exclaimed and ran to him, hugging him tightly.

“Lucifer what just happened?” You asked, frightened.

He blinked, befuddled, and then began to laugh, “Ah, it was today was it?”

You gave him a confused expression and he sat down to explain.

“Twelve years ago a prank pulled by Satan and Belphie backfired and sent me to the future…the Lucifer you just spoke with was me from many years ago.”

You gasped and your children were equally shocked.

“You haven’t changed at all,” Lucille commented and Lucifer nodded.

“Of course not, if I grew old I’d leave you behind and I don’t intend to do that.” He explained calmly.

You nodded and sighed in relief and in wonder. So all this time Lucifer knew you’d be together with children. Perhaps that’s why he suddenly had more confidence than usual. You checked the calendar and grinned. Twelve years ago exactly had been the day he asked you to marry him. Unlike how he usually behaved it was out of the blue, simple, and a little rushed. You hadn’t minded though, because it meant you’d spend eternity with him.

#obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #Lucious is the oldest and eleven years old #Lucille in the middle child and nine years old #Lucian is the youngest and six years old #obey me second generation #obey me x reader #obey me fic #obey me drabble

[goldenroutledge]

next to you

pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x reader

word count ⤜ 1.1k

summary ⤜ mornings with your husband, rafe.

warning(s) ⤜ this work contains a MAJOR season three spoiler! but other than that just fluff? might be on the hurt/comfort side just a smidge

a/n ⤜ he looks so BOYFRIEND in this outfit! i’ve been having so much writer’s block i haven’t written in a year at least, but my babygirl mila @msgorillagripcoochie inspired me with this idea <3 this isn’t canon rafe btw literally none of my work is canon compliant

rafe cameron masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

Steam fogged the mirrors of the en-suite bathroom, slowly dissipating with the cooler air being let in from the bedroom. White towel hanging around his hips, Rafe sat at the edge of the bed you shared, staring down the vast space of the walk-in closet.

Fidgeting with the ring on his finger, nerves coursed through his body, and it was in times like these that he remembered the days of drinking scotch before 11am. But that was a thing of the past, he reminded himself just as quickly as the thought popped into his mind.

Today he was meeting with an old teacher from his alma mater, who grew to be one of his favorites. Probably his only favorite.

Rafe was never a scholar or anything, something Ward didn’t allow him to forget. He just learned differently, from someone like Sarah who could barely show up to school three times a week and still pass every exam.

It wasn’t until Rafe found himself with a 67% in his social studies class and less than a month left in the semester to turn his grade around that he was forced to attend office hours.

The first day was embarrassing. He felt like an idiot in the first place, seeing as his horrible grades pretty much spoke for themselves. But even more so now that he had to stay longer at school because he was an idiot.

Rafe stayed silent for the most part. Letting the professor do most of the talking, letting him know which assignments and topics he needed to perform well on to end the class with a passing grade.

It wasn’t until that Friday, his professor knocked some sense into him.

« “You know you’ll never learn anything if you don’t ask questions, right?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, tired of sitting prisoner in the chair of his teacher’s office. “What do you want me to ask?”

“Anything.”

“I don’t have questions.” He lied unconvincingly.

“Every time I teach you, Rafe, I can see the gears turning in your head. You’re a smart kid. But I can’t help you excel if you don’t engage. I get it, alright. I felt stupid asking a bunch of questions in front of everyone in school too but I need you to be receptive. Help me help you, Mr. Cameron.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay. We can start with assigning you a peer tutor.”

Rafe wanted to laugh. Or cry, he wasn’t sure. The whole thing was just ridiculous to him at this point.

“She’ll be someone you can talk with about the material, ask questions to, someone you can trust to help you get back on track. Are you familiar with Y/n Y/ln?” »

Little did he know, Mr. Murphy would be getting the boot by the school board. Something about budget cuts, as if the kook parents of the island didn’t give enough donations to the school to keep the water fountains at a perfectly cold temperature.

Not because their books were falling apart or because their desks were chipping. Because people are selfish, and the new headmistress of the academy felt like the money could be better spent remodeling her office. It was laughable, really.

Today, that professor was back on the island, and reached out to Rafe to meet with him following the news of Ward’s death. Not that he mentioned that specifically in his email, though it was mostly implied that he’d wanted to check up on Rafe after everything.

And with all the questions he’d probably be asked today during this lunch with his old mentor, all he could ponder over was what he was going to wear. Perhaps it was a method of procrastination, to get his mind off of everything else.

Rafe sighed. “Y/n?”

At hearing his voice echoing through the house, you slid your bookmark in between the pages and followed his voice upstairs into your shared bedroom.

“You called?”

“I need your help.”

Your eyebrows raised involuntarily at the sight before you; no matter how many times you’d seen Rafe almost naked (and actually naked), he never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Help getting dressed?”

He nods, confirming that you’re always good at reading his mind. “Dress me, please?”

You chuckled, pulling some articles of clothing from the hangers and drawers. It was just lunch, so it wasn’t like he needed anything too business-y. His striped blue and orange shirt had always been one of your favorites, though he seemed to look good in almost anything.

You threw a pair of boxers over to him, keeping your back turned as you still rummaged through the closet. No matter how irresistible he was, there wasn’t any time for funny business this morning.

“There’s no need to be nervous, y’know. Mr. Murphy has always liked you.”

How do you always know what he’s thinking, damnit. “Yeah. I guess.”

He pulled the striped shirt over his head while you found pants for him to wear.

“Just don’t want him to think I’m still the same loser I was back then.”

“You’ve never been a loser, Rafe.”

“Maybe not in your eyes.” His lips stretched into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He put on the pants you picked for him, sitting back down to look up at you.

“Definitely not in my eyes.”

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer so his head rested on your stomach. The tips of your fingernails lightly scratched the back of his neck as you embraced.

“Do you remember the science fair? Freshman year?”

Rafe hummed in response. “Ward thought it was stupid. I asked him to come and he didn’t. Said he would be too embarrassed when I lost.”

“And then what happened? You won the whole damn thing.”

“I won the whole damn thing.” He smiled against your skin, repeating your words softly.

“You’ve never been a loser.”

Kneeling down, you placed your hands on his thighs, and gave him a sweet kiss.

“You’ve already accomplished so much.” You affirmed, reminding him of the businesses he had taken over since Ward died. Still, Rafe was unsure if he could rise to the occasion.

You took the ends of his jeans and cuffed them, knowing he’s terrible at doing it himself. They always come out uneven. And conveniently enough, he likes spending these quiet moments together. Neither of you would trade them for anything.

“I married you.” He cooed, taking your left hand in his and letting his thumb glide across the ring on your finger. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

“That it was.” You cheesed, letting him pull you up to straddle him. “Next time you think you’re not accomplished, Rafey…” You peppered soft kisses to his jawline. “Remember that you’ve got me.”

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @babeyglo @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @pogueslandia @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl + rafe cameron taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @chrisevansfuturewife @drewstarkeysbitchh @littlementalpolaroids @destourtereaux @kookkyra @iammirrorball

it’s been a while since i’ve posted writing so if anyone wants to be removed from/added to the taglist please don’t hesitate to let me know! 💌

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #outer banks fic

[gotticalavera]

Hey, everybody~! This post will have several headcanons that I have about Aang, Zuko and the ZukAang (or those that I can remember). I would also like to add some Au's and previous posts (can also include links to fanfics I wrote... the fanfics are in Spanish).

The Air Nomads are the tallest of the four nations, which is why Aang ended up taller than Zuko.

Zuko feels more relaxed when he's in Aang's company.

Aang doesn't like spicy food, but he accompanies Zuko to eat super spicy noodles or curry because he knows he loves it.

Zuko is more tolerant of alcohol than Aang.

Aang is the kind of drunk who gets into dancing and flirting, but he's also too prone to causing a lot of disasters (it's better to have the Avatar sober).

Zuko is the kind of drunk who gets sentimental and clingy.

In the world of ATLA they communicate through a common language and each nation has its own language. Aang is the only native who speaks Air Language.

Aang is a polyglot.

Aang, due to the way he speaks, expresses himself and uses certain words, speaks as an old man in all languages, except the Water Language, due to his coexistence with Katara and Sokka.

The first time Zuko heard Aang speak Fire Language, he was so surprised that Aang's voice could be heard so good~.

Zuko has tried to learn Air Language to surprise Aang, but it's very difficult, especially because Air Language sounds like whistling.

Zuko once tried to pay Aang a compliment in Air Language, ended up saying something else and Aang was laughing until he fell off his chair.

Aang is quite skilled at playing Pai Sho, much more so than Iroh.

Zuko is not a beginner, but he is not very good at playing Pai Sho either.

The only people who have beaten Aang in pai shou are: Gyatso and Zuko, but because Zuko knows how to unfocus him to cheat.

Aang suffers from insomnia when he is stressed, and even more so during stormy season. He is still a little afraid of sleeping and waking up at another time.

Aang often helps Zuko with paperwork when he can't sleep.

Zuko and Aang share dreams, literally, interacting between dreams when they are away from each other.

Zuko knows when something is stressing or making Aang anxious in dreams, because Aang appears with hair in dreams [& fanfic]

Zuko has an agreement with Appa, and it's to feign fatigue around the Fire Nation so Aang can take a break.

When Zuko is the one who is stressed/tired, Aang pets his head and combs his hair. He sometimes helps him with work, but Zuko prefers Aang to have his full attention on him.

There are two notable characteristics within the Fire Nation royal family; golden eyes and the canine teeth are quite noticeable, which look like dragon fangs. Zuko has these two characteristics.

Zuko doesn't usually smile with his teeth because he is embarrassed to show his fangs due to comments that Azula, Ozai, and others have said about them. He very rarely smiles with his teeth.

Aang upon learning about Zuko's fangs, began trying to make him laugh out loud to see them. He likes his fangs.

The palace councilors were scandalized the first time they saw Avatar Aang playing and combing the Fire Lord Zuko's hair [reaction]

Aang sings very well, but in his own language he is out of tune. He likes more playing instruments and is an excellent dancer.

In his education as a prince, Zuko learned various arts: he loved learning to draw, paint, and play. The arts that involve music are not his strong suit, unless they are applied with theater.

Zuko was banished before having a society presentation. So Aang was the first person to ask him to dance.

Aang always asks Zuko to dance when they are at a party.

The palace servants had become accustomed to finding Fire Lord Zuko and Avatar Aang sleeping together with various documents in front of them.

Aang and Zuko have escaped from the palace to go to the festival disguised as Kuzon and Lee.

Zuko has drawings of Aang in his notebook, including a drawing where Aang fell asleep under the tree where the pond is and the duck-turtles started playing on top of him.

Aang very rarely cries.

Aang is the only foreign Avatar with symbolic representation in the Fire Nation.

Zuko, Aang and rainbow fire.

Aang has pet names for Zuko.

Zuko prefers silver over gold, because it reminds him of Aang's eyes.

This part is from several AUs (especially Modern and High School), What if…? and other ideas. [I may also mention other ships in some posts, but because I like to shipping Aang a lot]

Modern/HighSchool

Aang moved from his village to the city when he was 12 years old. He lives with the daughter of a friend of Gyatso; her name is Kyoshi and she lives together with her partner, Rangi.

To make documentation easier, Aang adopted the Rangi's last name.

Rangi saw potential in Aang, so Aang knows differents martial arts.

Aang met Katara and Sokka on one of his explorations around the city (he got lost).

Aang has few of his own clothes, the rest of his wardrobe was clothes that Gyatso and his friends wore when they were young and lived for a while in the city, so he has different styles of clothing from the 70's and 80's.

Aang has been to the police station so many times that he knows every cop in the station.

The last time he got into big trouble, Rangi punished him and transferred him to an academy with Fire Nation-style discipline.

Zuko at age 11 and the following years experienced difficult situations, from the death of a cousin, Uncle Iroh distancing himself from the family, his parents' divorce and Ozai taking custody.

Zuko has an accident and ends up with a burn on his face.

Due to the accident, the issue of custody is reopened, but since Ursa doesn't have the necessary resources to keep Zuko and Azula, Iroh offers to keep them for a while in what has better stability.

Azula refuses this agreement, shortly after ending up at her aunts' house. Zuko and Azula spend the weekend with different parents, Zuko with Ursa and Azula with Ozai.

Although his situation is more stable, the scar is a reminder of problems, so Zuko became a more isolated person.

When Ursa managed to achieve financial stability, Zuko decided to continue living in his uncle's house.

Zuko works part time at his uncle's tea shop.

Zuko and Azula continue to maintain contact, especially when they have to spend a few weeks together with one of their parents.

Zuko and Aang had had short encounters before Aang transferred to Zuko's school.

Despite being the only Air Temple boy, Aang quickly won over most of the students.

For school reasons, Aang has to wear long sleeves and a bandana to cover his tattoos.

Zuko thinks Aang is the typical airheaded popular guy.

Due to some situations, they end up living together more and little by little they get to know each other better.

Aang is in the dance club and Zuko is in the drama club. Zuko asks Aang for help with his play.

Aang, Zuko and bonfire.

Valentine's Day

Ozai is still a terrible father, but...

_____

Fan x Ex-Actor!AU

Student Council!AU

Tattoo-Artist!Aang

Teacher!Aang

Aang, Zuko and the hot air

Age-Swap!ZukAang [1] [2]

Demon Spirit!AU

Zuko x Fem!Aang

Fem!Aang & Bumi II

#Isn't it so noticeable that I get tired of describing? #I don't think it looks like a masterpost... #And I feel like I was missing several hc's and au's #But that will be all for this post... #zukaang #zuko x aang #aang x zuko #aanglove #aang love #avatar the last airbender #avatar aang #fire lord zuko

[othervee]

Portrait of a royal family

I love that Young Royals is the kind of show you can re-re-rewatch and discover new stuff every time, because of the care and attention that's gone into it.

For instance - what we learn about the royal family and Wilhelm's place in it, including the unspoken things.

First vision of the royal family, and we see that their space is not theirs. There are thirteen people in this room; courtiers and staff outnumber the family more than 2:1. The family is also divided, with Erik and the Queen (the current and future rulers) standing together attending to business, while Wilhelm and his father are seated and talking. Wilhelm is also separated from his father by the staffer standing between them while she covers up Wilhelm's bruises. There's an array of cosmetic products in front of them; this is something they take seriously, not just a bit of concealer. So not only is Wilhelm unable to lick his wounds in privacy, but the family wants to conceal his injuries; they can't show that he's hurting.  

The Queen's first interaction with her youngest son is all about the visuals. She grabs his face to check the makeup job; we don't know whether she actually checked the visible injuries before Wille sat down. It's as if he's a little kid. No boundaries. You could almost see it as an extension of their relationship in general; Wilhelm is at the age where teenagers test boundaries, and his mother is angry and maybe a little scared because of the dangers he's exposing himself to. In a non-royal house, this perhaps wouldn't be quite such a big deal.

Kristina's next act is to slap Wilhelm's hand out of his mouth when he's biting his nails, with an exasperated snap that tells us she's done this a lot and is tired of it. The end result is that everyone in the room witnesses Wilhelm being scolded. Even his "private" humiliation is not private.

What else does this scene tell us? It is not a comfortable, or comforting, environment. The chairs are straight-backed and gilded. The table is covered in the detritus of a working day - laptops, coffee - but it does not look like a convenient place to work. Everyone's quite formally dressed; staff in uniforms or office attire, Erik in his military uniform, Wilhelm and his father in suits, and the Queen in royal blue. Her jewellery is conservative-coded with its tiny pearls and cameo. Dignified, stately, not flashy; stiff; made for show, not comfort; old-fashioned. This is the world Wilhelm uneasily inhabits and has tried to escape.

The scene on the couch is excruciating for Wilhelm and clearly uncomfortable for everyone else. The family are not in harmony; there's not a moment when they all look in the same direction. Ludvig looks like he's thinking about his stamp collection or his stock options or what he wants for dinner. Erik is keeping an excellent neutral expression but his eyes keep moving to Wille, checking out his face and his nervous hands, monitoring how he's feeling. The Queen is also looking at Wilhelm, but it's a pointed look, expectant and also silently saying Get on with it, and don't stuff it up.

We learn more about the family when Erik and Wille arrive at Hillerska. Note that Erik is the one who drives him there, probably taking time away from his Crown Prince duties. Did he offer, knowing it would be easier for Wilhelm? Although he clearly cares about his brother, he's also trusted to do the right thing and deliver him safely. He's part of the apparatus that's setting Wilhelm back into place. (Erik, I think, is not nearly as much on Wille's side as much of the fandom believes; he's just the closest thing Wille has to someone on his side).

August, like the Queen, is all about the image - and grabbing Wille's face without invitation. He's also all about Erik. And I'm sure he's also very aware of all the faces watching them from the window behind them, and the press in front of them, but he sees it as an advantage. He doesn't care about the reality as long as the image is right.

Does Wille find it disconcerting that August and Erik are so closely bonded? Erik clearly intends Wille to think of August as another big brother, an Erik-substitute, but Wille's seeing that there's another 'little brother' in Erik's life and that Erik is leaning in to seeing August again at the moment when Wille needs him most.

August is letting down his guard here. I think this is the most natural, uncalculated reaction we get out of him all season.

Wilhelm is being almost squashed between August and Erik as they talk across him. Again, Erik barely pays Wille any attention while August is around. This would further alienate Wille from him.

And here we really begin to see that, as much as he loves his brother and his brother adores him, Erik is part of the machinery that grinds Wille down. Let's look at his lines in this scene:

He's lived through his own adolescence and his time at Hillerska, and he came around to the establishment way of thinking. Surely Wille will too. So he'll be understanding and kind, but like his parents, he expects Wille to knuckle down. He's not going to encourage Wille to dream of a life beyond the gilded cage.

#young royals analysis #young royals #crown prince erik #young royals wilhelm #queen kristina

[juuuulez]

📰 | part seven: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, father figure Negan my love, enemies to lovers/slow burn, kinda angst but not emotionally yet, graphic violence, attempted sexual assault, um this got kinda dark, also long.

summary: Once again, you are tasked with babysitting Carl, this time leaving Alexandria to find supplies. An unsuspecting attacker causes a rift in your feud.

eesh this is intense but also very succulent to write i LOVE LOVE LOVE some action!

also thank you all for 150+ followers!!! pls continue to send ideas to my inbox i’m absolutely eating it up <3

You’re really starting to get sick of this heat.

It’s sweltering, sticking your clothes to your skin, sweat patches running down your back and dampening the white tank you usually wear.

In favour of not being bitten, you wore the typical black jeans, which are doing absolutely nothing to combat against the unbearable heat.

Unfortunately enough, there isn’t any air conditioning in the Sanctuary, so you’d agreed to return once more to Alexandria with your father.

It had been a few days since your last impromptu visit, a week, actually. Though you’d previously been frazzled, irritated, you took the time to cool off and work through some pretty ugly emotions back at home.

Now, it was down to business, which meant giving strict orders to Saviours on where to check, what to take. Making sure everybody wrote things down, followed their routine.

“Woah, woah, woah! What do we have here?”

Your head snaps in the direction of Negan’s voice, who is standing at the gates, leaning against an old, beaten down car with the engine on. As you approach, the familiar outline of a sheriff’s hat comes into view through the rear window, and you almost want to turn away and forget you even saw anything.

“Now, I sure as shit hope you weren’t planning on leaving unsupervised.” Negan jousts at the teenage boy, still leaning against the passenger side.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where this is leading, and you shoot your father a tired little glare. “Can’t Dwight do it? Or, I dunno, anyone but me?” You plead, not exactly in the mood to be in a confined space with Carl once more.

For all you knew, he might swerve off the road to try and kill you.

Negan doesn’t let this slide, “Nope! You’re an excellent babysitter, doll. Best girl for the job.”

You bite your tongue against any sort of protest, still having not revealed the true extent of your last encounter with Carl. It would only cause unnecessary stress, you deducted.

At the beginning of this whole apocalypse, Negan had been cagey about letting you do just about anything. It only took a one bad incident to turn on his protective mode, and you felt like maintaining your freedom for a little longer.

“Fine.” You sigh, but instead of climbing into the passenger side, you skirt to the other end of the car. “Out, now. Leave the keys.”

Carl glares at you with an open mouth, clearly displeased about not only having his trip hijacked, but now being ordered around. “I can drive.”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna risk you goin’ AWOL.” You tell him, unfortunately deadly serious, much to the boys’ dismay.

With an angry scoff, Carl departs from the drivers side, instead getting into the passenger chair. You sit down, leaning over to adjust the seat in order to ensure your feet would reach the peddles.

With Negan gone, having departed to keep a keen eye on the Saviours, you reach into your belt and pull a small handgun from the holster. This catches Carl’s attention, as he’s never seen you carry a gun before.

You hand it to him.

“One bullet,” You instruct, tone more serious than he’s ever heard from you. “Don’t fuck this up. It’s emergencies only. You’re lucky I don’t just let you die out there.”

He accepts it wordlessly, not wanting to push that very thin boundary.

The sweltering heat is worse in the car, harsh metal keeping the thick air inside, and you doubt it had any working cooling system.

Luckily, this proved to be less of a problem as you begin driving, the air whipping past your faces and offering a slight relief.

Carl gave you directions, but after the third instruction, you were beginning to get a little fed up.

“Why don’t you draw me a map?” You suggest, one hand on the wheel while the other brazenly fishes around in your back pocket, managing to pull out a small notepad. “Then I don’t need to listen to your voice.”

“What, like you can read?” Carl comments, a snide remark that contrasts the fact that he does take the notepad, flicking through pages in order to find an empty one.

His eyes are drawn to the little graphite sketches that adorn the pages, his thumb tempted to swipe the paper back and have a peek, but he resists.

A few moments later, and Carl hands the notepad back to you, which you hold in front of the wheel in order to get a good look. Your brows furrow, finger tapping against a strange looking blob.

“What’s this?”

Carl leans closer, brows pinched as he looks at the drawing. “A tree.” He says, as if it were obvious, despite the artwork being significantly less than professional.

“Okay?” You take your eyes off the road, giving the boy a confused, critical gaze. This only feeds into his temper, where Carl suddenly takes the notepad from your hands, drawing a few more scribbled lines on the so-called ‘leaves’ of his tree.

“So you know where to turn,” He specifies, like this would solve all of your problems, “At the end of the road. There’s a tree.”

You struggle to find your words for a moment, unsure how the simple action of drawing a map has just made this more confusing. “There are trees everywhere, dumbass. That isn’t helpful.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s a big tree,” Carl scoffs, throwing the notepad back onto the dash, opened so you can see it. “This wouldn’t be happening if you just let me drive.”

“Oh! Okay,” You turn to him, “I would have let you drive, had you not tried to shoot me. So, fairs fair, asshole. This is your fault.”

“I said I was sorry!” Carl retorts loudly, uncaring of how you’re no longer looking at the road, or about how fast the car is travelling.

You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Murders don’t get let off scot-free just because they said two puny words.”

“That’s barely comparable!” He continues to push the conversation, all that pent up anger and frustration towards your adamancy against him starting to bubble up. “It’s not my fault that you’re, like, deranged or something.”

That was it.

You slam your foot on the breaks, sending the car skidding a few dangerous meters ahead. In that time, you brace yourself against the steering wheel, but Carl jolts uncomfortably against the seatbelt.

“What the fuck—”

“Get out.”

He looks at you like you’re actually insane, trying to decipher whether or not you’re being serious. But you only stare at him, glaring actually, jaw clenched in irritation.

“Get out!” You tell once more, needing Carl to get the message that you simply can’t be around him anymore. Not with all the arguing and bickering, it was getting on your last nerve, and you just needed some space to breathe.

With a huff, Carl obeys, but not without slamming the door shut. You run a hand raggedly through your hair, starting the car up once more and placing your foot on the accelerator.

“Fuck you!” Carl yells as you drive off, giving you the finger in hopes that you’ll see it in the rear view mirror. You probably didn’t, but it makes him feel a little better anyway, like he got the final word in.

But as the car disappears against the horizon, he’s left there, on the dusty road in that horrible summer heat. Sweat already sits on his nape, making his shirt uncomfortably sticky, and now he’s tasked with walking the rest of the way.

All because of your tantrum.

With the advantage, you make it to the abandoned gas station in record time. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from where you’d ditched Carl, so you knew that he would be fine walking. You weren’t that cruel.

It’s relatively run-down, and you can only spot a few walkers mingling near the store’s back end. You keep your bat held tight, stalking through broken glass and tipped shelves to find anything of use. Whilst you don’t know what Carl had in mind for this trip, you could make a few assumptions, and managed to collect a small pile of minimal medical equipment, snacks, and even some baby food.

It was peaceful, actually.

Maybe a little too peaceful.

Slinging the bag of supplies over your shoulder, you approached the car once more, intending to drive the way back and pick Carl up along the way. He shouldn’t be too far off, at this point. You lean over, starting the ignition and popping the boot open, letting the supplies rest there.

But as you circle around, something catches your eye. A shiny glint on the ground. You poke it with your boot, only to realise that it appears to be a small razor blade.

Dread floods your system, and as you bend down to inspect the peculiar object, it hits you.

The tires, each one of them, have gone flat. Air completely let out, slashed. Unusable.

No escape.

You clench your jaw, rising to your feet once more, the metal bat still in hand. Someone was here. With what intentions, you didn’t know, but you could assume it wasn’t good.

Cautiously, you take a few steps backwards, towards the gas station. You watch the open space ahead of you, eyes steady on the treeline, inspecting for the most minute of movements that could betray the whereabouts of this potential attacker.

Except it doesn’t come from behind.

One steady thunk and your head is colliding with the concrete wall, to which the shock causes you to drop the baseball bat, one hand clasping the wall and the other digging your nails into the wrist of your attacker.

A firm hand has collected your hair, gripping onto your ponytail, fingers pressed into your scalp. You fight and squirm, but the body of a much larger man presses behind you.

With your stuff in the car, you can only imagine what he might want.

Despite this, you don’t scream, teeth clenched as you struggle to evade his grip. A harsh stomp to his foot assists your escape, where you’re able to land one solid punch square to the man’s jaw, before his leg swipes your balance out, sending you crashing to the concrete.

You almost twist onto your stomach, but the attacker is too quick, once again fisting your ponytail and slamming your face into the ground. One, two, three and you finally stop struggling as vigorously, blood and mucous caked all over your face, mixing in with chipped cement and dirt from the floor.

But the baseball bat is so, so close.

There’s one hand still in your hair, another on your back. Now waist, then stomach. Gross, burly fingers circling the button of your jeans.

A singular moment of weakness is all you need, where he’ll let his guard down, and you can leap for the bat.

Unfortunately, you know what form this weakness comes in.

You’re panting like a wild animal, trying not to squirm, carefully calculating your next move until suddenly there’s a loud pop then whistle that whirs past your ears, the sound almost making you flinch, before the weight of your attacker slumps against your body.

Crimson blood drips down onto your shoulder, coating your neck and back, the cold shock helping you regain enough consciousnesses to shuck the dead body from your smaller frame, scurrying out from underneath him.

The pavement is searing hot against your palms, you can even feel the burn through the thick material of your jeans. As you sit up on your haunches, looking around, you spot him.

Carl, crouched behind a few bushes, tentatively lowering the handgun.

One bullet.

As he begins to approach, you wipe some of the blood onto your arm, smearing the disgusting gunk further around your skin, which is still persistently dripping from your nose and mouth.

Gravel has surely made its way into the open wounds, but you do nothing about it. Not now, at least.

Carl approaches you slowly, putting the handgun back into his holster, and that genuine look of concern on his face makes you feel sick.

When he gets close enough, arms reach, you bristle and firmly shove him away, sending him stumbling a few steps backwards.

“The fuck did I say?!” You yell at him, directing all your rage and anger towards the corpse lying at your feet, back at Carl. “Emergencies only. What happens now, huh? I don’t have another bullet!”

He looks completely shell shocked by your outburst, not having accounted for such a reaction. But it doesn’t matter, as you’re still shouting, even as he stands there dumbly and watches.

“I had that under control!” You grunt, once again wiping at you nose, which runs with a mix of snot and blood.

When you garner no reaction from Carl, this frustration only continues to fester. You lean down to the ground, swiping up the baseball bat and clenching it hard in your palms.

You approach the body once more, and with one hefty swing, completely obliterate the man’s skull. Later, you would claim this was being proactive against potential walkers, but in the moment in was nothing more than revenge.

When you’ve entirely crushed the skull, you move on to the neck, spine, arms, torso. Anything. There comes a point where you’re no longer hitting to destroy any evidence of what happened, but hitting simply to feel some semblance of control. Blood spurts onto your jeans, some even reaching your tank, a darker colour that contrasts with the bright red of your own.

“Hey, hey. Cool it.” Carl is saying from behind you, and when you show no acknowledgment of his words, he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, but otherwise drop the bat, letting it clang harshly against the concrete, rolling a few feet away and leaving a gorey trail.

At this point, you try to clear your head, take stock of the situation. The tires are slashed, deeming the car useless. It was beginning to enter late afternoon, and though the days were hot, the nights were freezing. Not only that, but all this shouting has likely attracted whatever walkers you’d hoped to leave unsuspecting.

Finally, you spare a glance back at Carl, who’s been watching you this whole time. It looks like he’s on edge, waiting, ready for whatever you’re about to do, however irrational. A few specks of blood have made its way onto the sleeves of his flannel, where you realise how close Carl has been standing to you, even during the little outburst.

“Fine,” You mumble, answering his unspoken question. “No point heading back. Best push the car into some shade, camp out there for the night.”

Carl takes this as permission to contribute, though he still speaks to you with a level of cation. Mentally, you accept this as fear, but you know very well it’s actually concern. “I know the area pretty well. There’s a cabin not too far off, it was clean last time I checked.”

It’s reasonable, even if the idea of following Carl into the woods makes goosebumps rise on your skin. You’d rather not, especially now that he’d used the sole bullet, which you had none of on hand.

You chew on your busted bottom lip, nodding, accepting this makeshift plan. “Yeah, okay.” You sigh, almost sounding defeated, but nonetheless you pick the bat off the ground and stride back away from the gas station, not bothering to consult Carl any longer.

This was going to be a long night.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #negan smith x reader #twd x you #carl grimes x you #negan smith #the walking dead

[kywaslost]

Sebastian Michaelis Helps You When You Pass Out in the Shower

A/N: Based on past events where I quite nearly black out for a few seconds when trying to get through a shower, and events from a few days ago when I was a bit dehydrated and took a scorching hot ‘everything’ shower. This is also my first Black Butler piece, so please be kind. I’m always open to comfort requests and writing tips and advice!

Also, this is written with the reader as a female.

Warnings: blood, passing out

It had been a tiring day for you, and you longed for nothing more than a nice warm shower to wash the day’s events away. You had an early morning, eating breakfast with your best friend, Ciel. You were family friends, and almost inseparable when together. Then, you spent most of the day in London working on a case with the boy and his butler. You arrived home later than usual, covered in grime and blood. Whether it was yours or someone else’s, you weren’t sure. 

You had fallen asleep on Ciel’s shoulder during the carriage ride home, and he rested with his head on yours. When the three of you arrived at the manor, Sebastian gently lifted you up and carried you out of the carriage, Ciel following closely behind. 

“Young Master,” Sebastian said softly. “Do you think you could see yourself in your washroom while I carry Lady Y/N to her room? I shall be with you shortly.”

The young Earl Phantomhive nodded with a yawn. “See to it that Lady Y/N is alright and have Mey-Rin help her shall she need it.” 

Sebastian gently adjusted his hold on you as he carried you up the stairs to your guest room, although you had been staying with Ciel for so long it might as well be deemed your personal bedroom. You were still sound asleep against Sebastian’s chest as he entered your room and sat you down in a chair. He supported your neck and head with one hand as he gently shook you awake with the other. 

“Lady Y/N, we have returned to the manor,” he said quietly, watching as your eyes slowly opened and you glanced around the room. Once he was sure your head would not fall if he let go, the butler knelt down in front of you and removed your shoes.

You groaned softly, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. “How did we get in here?” you asked groggily, tired eyes staring at Sebastian’s red ones in curiosity.

 He smiled gently, untying your other shoe and guiding it off of your foot. “I’m afraid you fell asleep on my young master in the carriage, so I carried you to your room to wake you up and let you have a nice warm bath or shower, whichever you may choose. I will call Mey-Rin to assist you.”

Sebastian stood as you shook your head, slowly getting up on your own feet. “I think I will take a shower, and I can manage on my own. Thank you, Sebastian.” You offered a small smile. 

“There is no need to thank me, Lady Y/N. If I couldn’t provide excellent guest services to the manor’s guests, what kind of butler would I be?” Sebastian said with a bow. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to tend to the young master for a moment. I will return shortly to help you prepare for bed.”

You watched as the tall man left before making your way to the conjoined bathroom. You closed the door behind you, but left it unlocked for whoever would be bringing you your nightclothes. You quickly undressed yourself and started the shower, stepping in once you were satisfied with the temperature.

You perfered particularly hot showers, ones that leave your skin burning with warmth and the mirrors foggy when you are finished. Especially on days like today where London had been particularly cold and dreary. You basked in the warmth of the water before beginning to wash your hair.

It had taken 10 minutes alone to get all of the dirt and grime out of your hair, and you had begun feeling the slightest bit lightheaded when you were finished. You shook off the feeling, lathering conditioner through your h/l h/c hair. Then you moved on to washing your body. You were feeling considerably worse now, not being able to stand and you felt extremely close to passing out. So you sped up your showering process, hoping to get out of the shower before the inevitable happened.

Your breathing grew ever so slightly heavier as you knelt over, opting to sit for a moment. Except you don’t remember ever making it to the ground. All you felt was your head grow even heavier and then feeling relief for a split second.

“Lady Y/N, may I come in?” Sebastian asked with a knock on your bedroom door. When he received no answer, he knocked again as he slowly opened the door and stepped into your room. “I am coming in, miss.” Upon entering the room, there was no sign of you. Sebastian could still hear the shower running, and movements coming from the other side of the bathroom door, so he made his way to your dresser and gathered a change of underclothes and sleepwear.

As he was doing so, he heard a crash from behind the bathroom door. The demon butler ran to the door, knocking anxiously. “Is everything alright, Lady Y/N?” he asked worriedly. “I heard a crash.” Yet he was met with silence yet again. Sebastian knocked one last time before entering. He poked his head in the doorway slowly to see you unmoving on the floor of the shower, shower curtains having fallen and draped over you just enough that you were properly covered.

“Oh my,” the man said under his breath. He placed your clothes on the counter, then gathered your towel before stepping over to you. Sebastian turned off the water, noticing how considerably warm it was in the room. Then he kneeled down by your head at the edge of the shower, shaking your shoulder gently. “Miss, are you alright?” There was a cut across your face, beginning just above your right eye and traveling over the bridge of your nose and ending below your left eye from where the shower curtain hit you as it fell. Sebastian examined you as best he could, concluding that you had not sustained any serious injuries as of yet. 

Sebastian methodically removed the shower curtain swiftly enough that he didn’t see any part of you before wrapping you up in your towel. The butler picked you up again, carefully carrying you to your room and laying you down on your bed. He dried you off as best as he could, then tied a blindfold over his eyes as he began dressing you himself. He would have had Mey-Rin take care of the task, except she had already turned in for the night and you had allowed Sebastian to help you dress in the past. Being friends with Ciel also meant that you and the demon butler were quite close, and you felt comfortable around him. So much so that Ciel and Sebastian explained their contract to you and you couldn’t have cared less. 

Once you were fully clothed, Sebastian removed his blindfold and took care of carefully drying your hair as best he could before hanging your towel to dry and returning to you with a first-aid kit.

At this moment, your bedroom door creaked open ever so slightly more, catching the attention of the butler making his way to you. He could see gray-blue hair peaking just past the door, and then watched as Ciel jumped into the room. The young boy was without his eyepatch, blue and purple eyes shining with worry. 

“What had happened to Lady Y/N?” he said loudly, rushing to your side.

“It appears she has passed out while in the shower,” Sebastian explained calmly, laying a hand on the Earl’s shoulder. “Please, do remain quiet. We do not want to frighten her when she awakes.”

“And when will that be?”

Sebastian glanced back at you. “Should be any moment now, master. Now, would you like to sit beside Miss L/N on the other side of the bed while I cleanse her wound? Just in case she awakes afraid?” Ciel nodded, climbing onto the bed beside you and taking your hand in his. He watched as Sebastian sat just above your head, gently guiding it to lay in his lap as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves, unpacking cotton balls and antiseptic. 

With great care the Phantomhive butler dabbed at your cut, wiping any blood from your face and cleaning your wound. He had just begun when you startled awake, jerking your head to the side and gasping softly. You felt Ciel’s hand tighten around yours as your eyes opened and you quickly looked around the room, attempting to sit up.

Gentle hands guided you to lay back down, however, and as you complied you looked up to see Sebastian above you with a soft smile adorning his features. “Please relax, Lady Y/N. I assure you, you are alright. There is nothing to be afraid of.” You winced in pain, lifting a hand to your head. Sebastian stopped you, taking your hand and placing it down beside you. “Please refrain from touching your face, miss. I’d hate for you to bloody yourself.” 

Tears swelled in your eyes when you saw Ciel beside you, watching you worriedly. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, letting the tears fall. “I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Ciel and Sebastian said simultaneously.

“You passed out, Lady Y/N. Why do you feel the need to apologize?” Sebastian said softly. 

Ciel lifted his free hand to wipe away your tears, smearing a bit of blood in the process. As Sebastian wiped Ciel’s hand off, you responded. “I could have prevented it. And I broke the shower curtain. I’m so sorry Ciel.” “I assure you it is nothing Sebastian cannot handle,” Ciel smiled softly. 

“I will take care of it as soon as I clean your wound and bandage you up,” Sebastian responded. “If you don’t mind, I am going to continue. It will sting. Just let me know if it becomes too much.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you let Sebastian treat your cut. Everytime you were in pain you would squeeze Ciel’s hand just a bit tighter, and he’d comfort you by running his thumb along your knuckles.

“And… all finished,” Sebastain declared with a smile. “How do you feel?” You slowly pulled yourself to sit upright with Ciel’s help, and Sebastian rested a hand on your back to steady you.

“A bit dizzy, but better.” You turned around and quickly wrapped your arms around Sebastian in a hug. “Thank you, sorry for the trouble.”

“What kind of butler would I be if I were not able to treat your wounds, miss?” Sebastian gently hugged you back before pulling away. He quickly disposed of his gloves and used cotton balls, then stood off the bed. “If you’ll excuse me, I am going to fetch you a glass of water. I feel as though dehydration played a part in tonight’s events. I will return shortly.”

Ciel helped you under the covers as Sebastian left, keeping his gaze on you at all times.

You couldn’t help but feel terrible for making him worry. “I’m sorry Ciel. You should be asleep by now.”

Ciel gave you a knowing gaze. “You know I will not rest until we bid good night, Y/N. I came to do just that, when I found Sebastian about to tend to you. I was not about to leave you alone.”

Sebastian returned with a glass of water and helped you sit upright to drink the refreshing beverage. You handed the glass back to him.

“I shall set this on your night stand in case you require more throughout the night.” You nodded.

“I guess we should all go to bed now,” you smiled softly. “I’m sorry for all of the trouble. Thank you for helping me.”

“It was my pleasure,” Sebastian responded. “I shall return you to bed now, master.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Ciel said softly. “Rest well. And don’t be afraid to ring Sebastian if you need anything throughout the night.”

Sebastian gave you one final bow as he followed Ciel out of your room, closing the door behind him gently. You were forever grateful for your best friend and his butler. Although ashamed due to passing out in the shower and cutting yourself, you were grateful that they were there to care for you.

#x reader #comfort #black butler #black butler x reader #black butler fanfiction #black butler fluff #black butler comfort #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader comfort #sebastian michaelis comfort #sebastian michaelis fluff #ciel fantomhive #ciel fantomhive fluff #ciel fantomhive comfort #sebastian michaelis x reader platonic #x reader platonic #platonic

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello hello! If I may, I'd like to request for fuegoleon fic

Where his wife s/o is busy with work or something so she leaves their 2 year old daughter with Fuego and he takes her to his office? Cue the crimson lion kings going crazy over their captains adorable little baby girl and they all sorta get distracted throughout the day taking care of the little bundle. But eventually she gets really fussy and sad and Fue understands it's because she misses her mom and he kisses her forehead and says he misses her too

S/o comes back home to fue and baby waiting for her and it's just a huge fluff fest basically

I love your writing so much❤️❤️❤️❤️

LOTS OF HUGS AND KISSES TO YOU <3

Hello hello!!

AAAAAAA this is so sweeeet!!! I was more than happy to write this one! I hope it makes you smile!!! AND HUGS AND KISSES RIGHT BACK TO YOU <3 and thank you!!! I might or might not be happy sobbing

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Nothing but family fluff fluff fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k

Sunlight filtered through the glass of the window and cascaded onto the floor of Fuegoleon’s office. The crimson carpet was practically illuminated by the gentle soft glow, against which the steam rising from Fuegoleon’s tea cup on the table could be seen.

But he wasn’t looking at the carpet, or the steam rising from the tea. He was looking at his daughter playing on the carpet. Her hair, which reminded him of his own, but was much more vibrant, glimmered in the light of the sun. And her eyes, which also reminded him of his own, sparkled full of joy and hope. But she did have a lot of your features. Which was something he’d muse while tapping the tip of his daughter’s nose at times, while telling her that she has a cute nose. Just like her mother.

She was drawing something, while occasionally glancing at, very intently, at her lion plushie.

Another masterpiece in the works, he smiled to himself, radiating nothing but pride and love he held for his daughter.

“Father watch!” She called out while stumbling onto her feet and picking up the paper.

“Hm?” He lifted his head while putting down his pen, as she stumbled over with a wide grin on her face.

“Us!” She said while showing him a picture with 4 blobs. “Mother,” she pointed to a shape on the right, “father” she pointed to a shape on the left, “me” she pointed to a shape in the middle, “Lele” she pointed to a shape below the three other ones, because she had wanted to include her lion plushie.

“Excellent work,” he patted her head. “Father is very proud,” he told her, which made her smile even wider.

There was a knock at the door, and Randal appeared from behind it.

“I’m sorry to disturber Sir, but I … thought the little lady might want something to drink,” he said while crouching down and holding a few juice boxes in hand.

“Thank you,” Fuegoleon nodded as the daughter was already happily making her way through the first juice box.

“Watch!” She showed Randal her drawing.

“Magnificent job my lady,” he smiled while getting up.

“Mhm!” She nodded her head vigorously. “Show mother?” She asked while looking back to Fuegoleon, as Randal lingered in the doorway.

“Mother is busy dear,” he told her with an apologetic shake of his head.

“When?” She asked with a frown.

“In a few hours,” he replied.

But all it did was make her teary eyed.

“But mom now!” She cried as Fue got up from his chair and Randal took a step further into the hallway.

Fuegoleon nodded to Randal who took it as a cue to leave, and closed the door, while Fue picked up his daughter into his arms.

“I understand dear,” he spoke with soft syllables while cradling her in his arms. “I miss her too,” he admitted while placing a kiss onto her forehead. “And she surely misses us too,” he told her.

---

Evening had started to set as you made your way back to your bedroom, or living quarters as it could be better described, since there were multiple rooms adjoined. And though you were tired from the long day, you couldn’t wait to see your husband and daughter again.

A  smile crept onto your lips as you thought about it, about how you’d see them soon again, and that smile only widened as you opened the door, entering the bedroom.

“Mother!” You heard as soon as you opened the door, having barely had time to enter.

“Well hello darling,” you said while pushing the door closed behind you and crouching down with open arms to welcome you daughter, who was already stumbling to you as fast as her little legs could carry.

“Miss you!” She said to you while clinging onto you.

“I missed you too,” you smiled while picking her up.

“Welcome back,” Fue greeted while making his way to you as well.

“Thank you,” you smiled to him. “I hope the knights weren’t too inconvenienced by you having her today.”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head as amusement was painted over his lips. “In fact, she was quite the star of the day,” he said while wrapping his arm around your waist, and pressing a kiss onto your lips.

“Hmm,” you hummed into the kiss, feeling loved and cared for. “That’s good,” you continued while looking adoringly at your husband, and who looked equally, if not more, adoringly to you.

“We missed you,” he still said while glancing to your daughter who was now pressed against your chest in your arms, and clutched to you with closed eyes.

“Looks like she’s tired,” you mused with a hushed voice.

“She had a rough day,” he chuckled under his breath.

“By missing me?” You chuckled back with a glance to him.

“It is far more taxing than you give her credit for,” he mused with a twinkle in the corner of his eye.

“I see,” you giggled. “But she should get her ready for bed,” you told him, to which he agreed. It really had been a long day for all of you. But now you were together, as a family, as it should be.

#fuegoleon x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #black clover fanfiction #black clover oneshot #black clover x reader

[flowercrowngods]

j.r. harrington's christmas carol

in prose. being a ghost story of christmas. a modern au.

stave i

Three things in John Richard Harrington‘s life come with absolute certainty: tax returns, unsweetened black coffee three times a day, and the permanent headache once December inevitably rolls around, over time wandering from his temples to just behind his eyes, worsening his already sour mood.

“Idiocy, all of this,” he mutters under his breath as he pushes open the door to his office, leaving behind his stammering secretary and the ungodly blare of Christmas songs he cannot seem to escape this year. It’s grating on his nerves, and he hangs his hat on the coat-tree, damp with water because it never snows anymore. 

All the better for traffic, at least, because not a day passes that he has nowhere to be. Snow tends to thwart these plans. 

“Absolute humbug,” he grumbles once more, shucking his coat and smoothing a hand over the lapels, keeping them immaculate despite the rain.

There is a stack of documents on his desk, and it is a blessed vision, that. None of that dilly-dallying that the rest of the world seems so adamant on indulging this time of year, no. Not for John Richard Harrington, real estate magnate and financier by trade. The world of Money is not about to stop just because workers all across the globe are wont to forget about their employment for a few days of illusion and play-pretend. 

“Bah!” He sits down and finds note upon note from long-standing business partners and loyal clients, wishing him a Merry Christmas and expressing gratification and happiness towards their business this year. 

While Harrington does appreciate the loyalty and the premise of future business, he does not need their Merry Christmasses nor their Good Tidings. What he needs is responsible, determined employees who do purposeful work regardless of the holidays. 

But all he gets is a bunch of ungrateful, aimless good-for-nothings who, instead of working as they are expected to, spend all of December beseeching him to grant them just two days of Christmas vacation — and every year they get the same answer: “Stay home for Christmas and find yourselves unemployed.”

And every year they make the decision to come into work, restoring Harrington’s faith and goodwill that at times has been known to go so far as to sending them home a half hour early — paid! He is not a monster, after all; no matter what they say. He is a realist. A capitalist. A wise investor and a driven businessman. And business, he knows, at times necessitates a compromise. 

He will, however, not compromise a whole year’s work for a meaningless holiday that is in dire need of a better soundtrack. How people do not grow tired of listening to always the same songs on repeat each and every year is past him, and he won’t even try to understand it. So long as they keep their miguided cheer far away from him, he does not care if the first noël is born or if the midwinter is indeed bleak. 

A knock sounds against the heavy wooden door and he frowns, already anticipating the person behind the door even as he keeps sorting the stack on his desk, sorting mail into dedicated piles of business, sentimentality, and Steven. The latter has been empty for years now, but that is just as well. 

Another knock, and the old Harrington growls, his eyes flitting to the door as though he were capable of making the person behind it disappear by sheer willpower alone. Although he has to concede that making Cratchit disappear would be a poor move, as the man is one of his most efficient. Their acquaintance could be excellent if only Cratchit weren’t so adamant on experiencing the Christmas cheer each year without pause. 

John Richard sighs and leans back in his chair, still frowning at the door as he bids him inside. 

“Cratchit.” 

“Merry Christmas, sir!” Cratchit says, a glint of tease beneath the unfortunately entirely genuine sentiment that ricochets right off of Harrington’s scowl and returns to its sender, only brightening the man’s smile. 

“Tell me what you want and then get back to work, Cratchit. I don’t pay you for… lallygagging.” 

 Cratchit’s smile falters a little, and he clears his throat. “Well, you see, sir, my son. He has flown in from overseas, arrived this morning, in fact. Has come home for Christmas for the first time in three years, you see. He will stay over the holidays, and so I was wondering if, perhaps, you would make an exception this year and show a little heart—“ 

“Heart!” Harrington exclaims, effectively shutting up his stammering employee. “Compassion! And where will that get me, Cratchit? Let’s say I concede this year, you lot will expect it every year from now on. Add to that a vacation for New Year’s Day, and maybe a few days give or take until work ethic declines and you will only work from one holiday to another. Isn’t that what will happen, hm?” He scoffs, shaking his head in derision. “Compassion… I expected better from you, Cratchit.” 

The man withers, and normally Harrington wouldn’t mind that, would study his misery and hold it against him in future debates. But something about it, something about that grin disappearing, and with it that glint of something so youthful even though the man is only a few years his junior cracks at something inside him. Something that feels a lot like that empty stack of mail on his desk. 

“Please,” Cratchit says. “Please, sir, just… Just half the day tomorrow. It’s—“ 

It’s Christmas. It's humbug! 

Anger rises inside him and barely contains himself as it coils and bubbles inside him. “Get out,  Cratchit, before I’ll have you escorted outside.” 

“But sir—“ 

“Get out!” he shouts, watching as Cratchit flinches, entirely too soft for this world. Marley wouldn’t have hesitated to fire him thrice over for even trying to bargain over this. 

But Marley is dead seven years now, and Harrington is the only hard-headed man in charge of these good-for-nothings. And maybe it’s that; a tiny, misguided shred of mourning his business partner; or maybe it’s his hand reaching for the non-existent stack on his desk and finding his hand empty. Maybe it’s heart, as Cratchit put it, even though John Richard is known not to have one, and he is not inclined to disagree. 

Whatever the reason may be, Harrington calls, before Cratchit can hastily pull the door shut behind him, “And when you come back after Christmas, I expect to see you at your best performance, Cratchit. Understood?”

The man blinks, his eyes wide as saucers as he regards Harrington, his mouth falling open as he loses whatver composure he might have possessed before this. Five seconds pass and Harrington is inclined to take back his words when Cratchit shake shimself out of his stupor and falls into a tirade of gratitude and disbelief that Harrington really has no time for, calling for his assistant to escort Cratchit back downstairs. They have work to do after all. 

When the door falls shut once more, leaving the grand office in silence, he allows himself a moment to breathe and regret his moment of softness, hearing Marley’s grouching insistence that softness and compassion in a capitalist’s world will only lead to ruin and bitterness. 

But bitterness is there in Harrington’s life regardless, especially around this time of year. 

*** 

There is another certainty in John Richard Harrington’s life: He does not get nightmares. There are no terrors haunting him, no ghosts of future or past relationships to linger in the back corners of his mind, waiting to come out at night when he lets his guard down. 

That, however, does very little to explain this nightmare of Jacob Marley warning him of an eternity of sorrow and chains if he does not see the error in his ways, if he does not better himself and reconnect with the heart tapping a steady but withering beat in his chest. 

“I don’t undestand!” he calls into the void as the world spins around him, light becoming darkness and darkness turning into light, blinding and disorienting him as he feels colder by the second. 

“I wear the chain I forged in life,” Marley’s apparition says as Harrington falls, scrambling away from the Ghost, feeling real fear for the first time in his life. “You will be haunted,” resumed the Ghost, “by Three Spirits. Please them and yours will not be the same fate as mine. Expect the first one tonight, when the clock strikes One. The second will find you the night after that at the same hour. And the third will come when Christmas Eve turns into Christmas Day.” 

He shakes his head, refusing to believe this Ghost, ready to bargain that she should meet all these Spirits at once if they were real, that they should reveal themselves and absolve him of what crimes they think him to be guilty of. But Marley holds up his hand, forbidding John Richard to speak, and he does hold his tongue — more out of fear than real obedience. 

Before he knows it, the room fills with horrible wails of lamentation and regret, self-accusatory and begging for absolution so sorrowful that Harrington feels a cold shiver travelling down his back, a sensation he is not at all familiar with. 

And then, as quickly as it started, the spectre is gone and silence returns, the show is over. There is no time to collect himself, because he gasps awake the next moment, feeling no different than just seconds before and wondering if it really was a dream or if he was hallucinating. Unfortunately, a hallucination is just as impossible as a nightmare. 

The alarm clock on is bedside table shows 12:19 a.m. 

And for some reason, fear still coursing through his veins, John Richard Harrington decides to stay awake. Pretending not to count down the minutes until the clock stikes One and be assured to still exist in a world where ghosts aren’t real.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #will feature: #steddie #and stobin hehehe #and parental redemption #a christmas carol #have a whacky take at a christmas carol with harrington sr as scrooge #i fully don't expect this to get any notes but i wanted a fun little challenge and i kinda like the idea and i have Plans #(i also have no time for these plans but Oh Well™️) #stranger things christmas carol #dio words #this is whacky the words aint flowing i am only just regaining them after months of horribleness my brain is like rebooting sorry

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

[19:57]

Tags and warnings: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader, not very relevant but, this is a non-idol au, elements of perv! Hyunjin, mentions of unconsensual voyeurism and photography, Dom! Reader, more subby! Hyunjin, foot fetish, foot grinding/mild cock stepping, dirty talk, degradation (m. receiving), stocking kink if you squint and mentioned oral sex.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Overtime is, easily, the bane of your existence. However, you need the money. There's a new apartment you've been eyeing for months now and, as much as you wish it would, you know the money isn't going to materialise in your lap out of thin air.

So, here you are.

Your eyes already burning with fatigue while you stare at your computer screen. Willing your brain to care about the numbers spread in front of you. The office is mostly dead. Everyone else opting to clock out hours ago, leaving you and the new hire to slave away at your respective desks. The joys of capitalism.

Speaking of which, Hyunjin remains steadfast in his concentration beside you. The sounds of him clicking away at his keyboard combined with the faint hums of the machinery on the floor all that keeps you company. You don't know how he remains so focused when you find your mind slipping away every few minutes. God, maybe you should just go home for the night. Your brain is turning to liquid in your skull.

"I'm going to take a little break. Maybe get some food. Would you like anything?" His question startles you enough that you nearly knock over your water bottle. Frankly, you're surprised he's spoken to you at all. In the weeks he's been here, Hyunjin tends to keep to himself for the most part. Not because he's reserved or has some sort of superiority complex, you've come to learn, it's more so because he's shy. Only piping up from time to time and, he seems to be the most comfortable around you.

His offer is sweet but, "No, thank you. I have some snacks in my bag and I have my water for now. Thank you though, Hyunjin," you respond with a small smile. The flush that rises to his cheeks is surprising but, he nods and scurries off before you can think about it too much.

Now, you're totally alone. The excel sheet your only companion.

You're close to finishing up this one anyway, luckily. A few final checks and you're free to work on the next one. Stretching your arms over your head, you cringe at the knots that have made themselves at home in the base of your neck. You can hear Minho's voice filtering through your brain clear as day. Nagging you to take better care of yourself.

Shoving thoughts of your fussy best friend aside, you can't help but, sneak a glance at Hyunjin's desk. Typically you'd be more than happy to wait for him to return so, you can compare sheets to ensure you're both on the right track. However, you're tired. And you want nothing more than to take a scorching shower and crawl into your sheets. So, you opt to be a little more proactive. Rolling your chair over to his desk until his screen is within your view. Some of his numbers are a little off but, they're mostly fine. He's picked up on the ropes pretty quickly. It's impressive, to say the least. However, a folder catches your eye before you can return to your desk.

It's simple. Titled 'Favourites' and nothing else but, there is something almost siren-esque that calls you to it. You know this isn't right. Yes, it's his work computer but, it's still his computer and he's entitled to some level of privacy on it. Minho has always said you're too nosy for your own good. It could be filled with his favourite tools to use for all you know.

The folder is not filled with tools. Not even a little bit.

You're stunned to see what appears to be hundreds of pictures. Pictures you're pretty damn certain are of you. Tonnes of pictures focused on your legs, your breasts straining against your button-up shirts at times and your heels. You're not even sure what to think, let alone feel. Your lips parted in shock while you scroll and scroll and scroll. When had taken all of this? How did you never notice? Why are they on his fucking work computer?

"Hey, I'm back. The line was a little longer than-" Hyunjin's words stop as soon as he sees you sitting at his desk. His brain taking a few very long moments to process your new position as well as what's filling his screen.

It's impressive how red he becomes within seconds. Looking for all the world that he'd much rather the Earth open up and swallow him whole than continue this tense interaction with you. Long fingers clutching his sandwich and coffee as a lifeline.

"I ca-can explain. I wasn't- this isn't- I'm-"

If someone had told you even a few hours ago that you'd be propped up on Hyunjin's desk with his bare cock pressed against your stocking clad feet, you would have thought they'd utterly lost their grasp on reality.

And yet, here you are.

Your panties cling to you in a way that is quickly growing uncomfortable but, that doesn't matter right now. Hyunjin's hair sticks to his already sweaty forehead. Previously neatly styled, dark locks now a mess while he pants with every jerk of his hips against the soles of your feet. Not meeting your eyes. His pretty cock bordering on painfully hard and copious amounts of pre-cum dribbling out of it. Every whine and moan hits you like a tidal wave. Everything about him just has to be so gorgeous, doesn't it?

"Jinnie," you drawl, adding pressure to your feet and smirking just the slightest bit when he chokes out a grasp at the sensation. Purposefully dragging your feet along his length and using your toes to toy with the sensitive underside of his head.

"I can-can't- please- " he gasps out, doubling over in his chair while his cock jerks dangerously against the pads of your feet but, you haven't had your fun yet.

"Are you already going to cum, Jinnie?" You ask with a faux pout and tilt of your head, adding even more pressure until the heat from his cock is searing your skin through the barrier of your stockings. "Gonna cum just from me using my feet to play with you? Isn't that a little pathetic?" The saccharine quality of your voice sends a shudder from the top of his head straight to his throbbing cock, more slick staining your beautiful stockings.

"Not-not gonna c-cum," he huffs out with a spark of determination in his voice despite the pitiful state he's in right now. As though you can't feel how hard he twitches when you begin to drag your feet along his length once more. As though the way he hunches over when you press and press and press isn't so blatantly obvious. Barely contained moans ringing out through the empty floor.

"Really?" You ask, biting your lip to hide the smile that threatens to split your face in half when you use your toes to stroke his tip, "Because I think your cock says otherwise. Are you really going to cum just from this? What a little pervert you are, Jinnie."

You don't fail to notice the way he whimpers when your mouth coils around the word 'pervert.' Oh. Looks like there's even more to your little coworker than meets the eye.

"Oh wow, not only are you a little freak who takes pictures of my feet to jerk off to but, you like when I'm mean to you too? You're more of a masochist than I thought," His face must be burning based on the flush you can see moving below his neckline. Cute. He doesn't respond verbally but, the way his hips jerk into your feet tells you all you need to know.

"You're such a disgusting pervert. I wonder how many times you snuck off during your breaks to touch yourself to the thought of me. Well, how is it, slut? Better than you imagined?" You enquire, the rush of having him crumble underneath you making you a little bit lightheaded. When he still doesn't answer you, this time, you choose to stop.

The way his head whips to meet you would be comical if he wasn't still incredibly hard underneath you and his teary eyes didn't cause your heart to rise to your throat.

"Pl-please, don't stop," he whines, lifting his hips up from his seat to desperately grind against your feet. The sight significantly worsens the state of your likely ruined panties. "This i-is better. So muc-much better. Yes, I'd sneak away to touch myself to y-you. Ah. I couldn't h-help it. You're so bea-beautiful and you're always fuck so nice to me," he rushes out and god, how could you not touch him after that?

"Something tells me you don't only like it when I'm nice to you," you muse before increasing the speed from earlier. Your blood roaring in your veins watching him start to crumble underneath every stroke of your feet, every bit of weight you press further and further onto him. "You like being a little, sick, perverse slut huh. My little perverse slut. Did you want me to see you? Find you cumming in your pants to fantasies of humping my feet like the pathetic, little loser you are?"

Much to your surprise, that's all it takes for Hyunjin to totally shatter. Your eyes widen and your heart thunders in your chest when broken moans fall from his plump lips. His eyes squeezing shut while his cock throbs against the bottoms of your feet, soiling them in rope after rope of his sticky cum. Gathering your bearings, you help him through it. Lightly dragging your messy soles against his cock until it has nothing more to give. His body jerks violently in overstimulation until you eventually stop, pulling away from him to let the man return to his body.

The sensation of his cum on your feet is a little odd but, it's worth it. He looks so beautifully fucked out slumped in his chair. Unfocused eyes staring up at the ceiling while his chest heaves with exertion. Sweat dripping from his cut jaw while his softened, slick cock rests against his work pants. You hope you'll remember the vision he provides for the rest of your life. Your clit throbs just from drinking him in.

Well, you don't see why you can't journey further down this rabbit hole. He came on your feet minutes ago. You're pretty certain the two of you have thoroughly stomped over any sense of propriety.

Fuck it.

"Hyunjin," you call, and you walls clench harshly when he turns his glazed over eyes your way. He's horribly unsubtle, and you don't miss the way his eyes linger on your chest before drifting to your spread thighs. You try not to smile too hard when he swallows. Loudly.

He's just so easy.

"Don't you want to take care of me too?" You ask with a pout, spreading your thighs further and tugging your pencil skirt higher until it bunches up at your waist. You're beyond wet. You've soaked through your stockings and you're sure he can tell.

"I'm so wet," you moan, dragging your fingers along your slit. A breathy gasp leaving your lips when you brush your clit, your eyes fluttering at barest hint of sensation.

The sounds of him rising from his chair and shuffling onto his knees forces your gaze to him. Heat simmering in the pit of your gut when you watch him shuffle closer to you until you can feel his laboured breaths hitting your skin. Large hands tentatively resting on your thighs as he makes himself more at home between your legs.

You don't think you've ever been wetter in your life than in this moment. His big, brown eyes glancing up at you while he presses light kisses to you over your stockings. Prompting soft mewls from you and your hips to unintentionally jolt against his mouth.

Maybe overtime isn't so bad after all.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin x reader smut #hyunjin x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut

[pettal00beaine]

Detention - Snape x inocent!reader smut

reader is described as a female, and is in hufflepuff

a/n- idk what possesed me to write this but this is so dirtly yall, im thinking abb turning this into a series but idk. Also its my second post thats an actual fanfic, so hope yall enjoy

MINORS DNI

(Y/n)  (L/n) was discribed as a inocent, kind and soft girl. She had (h/c) hair that ran along her pretty face, (e/c) piercing eyes and a curved, bouncy and round body every boy wanted to touch. Even though she doesn't even know that boys have genitals.

She wasn't given the talk when she was younger and for certain she was discribed as a sparkly ray of sunshine at all Hogwarts. She was a Hufflepuff and was excellent in many classes, greatest being Herbology. 

She was often praised a lot from proffesors. She was the one who earned Hufflepuff many points through the years. But there was one class she wasn't a fan of.

Potions. Lead by non other than Proffesor Severus Snape. He never spoke about the girl, but was strict to her at times when she got a few measurements wrong in her potion. One time instead of healing a frog she turned it into a pigeon. Nobody was really surprised though, her patronum was a pigeon after all.

 But aside from some little incident there weren't tragic mistakes she had made. Until today at class. They were supposed to be making Amortentia, a very powerful potion. But with one slight bump of her classmate she managed to add half a bottle of peppermint oil into the mix resulting in her desk being flooded by the messy jelly like substance. And with one glare from Snape she knew what was going to go down . 

"Five points from Hufflepuff. Miss Glitheard you have detention here later today., at the end of all your classes. Everyone stop experimenting, Miss (L/n) clean this mess up." And with a sigh that left her mouth she begun cleaning the mess. With her head down for the rest of the day she completed all her classes and went to change her robe before going to her second detention at Hogwarts. 

The first one was in Astronomy when she broke a crystal ball. But she just had to clean the whole class of dust and that was it. Plus Ms. Sinistra added five points to Hufflepuff for her hard work. But she didnt know what Snape was like. With one final deep breath she opened the large door of the potions classroom. 

There sat Snape right in the front of the classroom writing onto some papers. He looks up and says: " Oh Miss (L/n) you finally appeared go on and sit down , and dont make a peep." She sat in the way back and put her bag onto the table. After about five minutes she felt bored and started to get pretty tired so she laid her head onto the desk letting herself dream into her sweet dreams of candy. 

(Snape's point of view)

I finished signing all of my paper on grading the fifth year students. And looked up to spot Miss Glitcheard quietly sleeping on the desk. I started to get mad at her actions and took my wand with me and started walking to her desk. I stood there before slamming my wand against the end of the desk letting little sparks fly out of the end. She got startled and fell to her knees right in front of me and looked me straight into the eyes.

I couldn't help but feel excited. "Oh my Merlin im so so sorry Professor Snape!" She quickly tried to get back onto the chair but i pushed her down with my right hand. " W-what ar-are you doing P-proffesore?" she asked as she looked at me inocently and blushed a deep red color. She wasn't lying she really didnt know what was about to happen.

 " Do not move a muscle." At that she sat still as i walked to the door, i pointed my wand at the doorknob and in a deep voice said: "Colloportus." 

With that i turned around to look at her looking at me. I slowly walked over to her as she turned her hair to look at the floor. I moved my wand across her jawli and moved her head up to look at me. "Proffesor my knees hurt, can i please sit on the chair?" 

"No. You are to remain here until i say so and until im satisfied." I said as i tapped my wand against her small but plump lips." Do you know what mens genitals are called Miss (Y/n)? Hmm?"

 "N-no sir i dont i swear. My mama said thats not good. So i dont know." 

She's telling the truth. This is going to be fun, a smirk is already forming onto my face as i look at her eyes. " You can sit down now." She obeyed as she sat down, i quickly made my way over and sat beside her. I started stroking her thigh and rubbing her robe.

"Its a little hot in here isn't it Miss?" 

" A bit." She said. 

I started taking of my robe revealing the pants and pullover that i had underneath. "Why dont you get comfortable yourself Miss?" She looked at me shily before removing her robe reveilng the sweater, tie and dress shirt. Her skirt was relatively short, i could see her chubby thighs. On the were the cutest pair of thigh highs i had ever seen. They were thick considering it was chilly outside and had adorable little pumpkins on them. I could just take them off one by one. But ill be patient. "Tell me Miss do you know what an erection is?" She shakes her head no.

 "Well, an erection is a hardened male genital or so called penis. Its caused by a male getting aroused by sexual tention." She lisened carefully as i suggested: " Would you like to try giving me an erection Miss.?" She looked shoked, she started getting teary eyed and shed a few tears. I cupped her cheeks and wiped away the tears.

" Oh Miss im sorry, whats wrong? " She looks at me with a quivering lip, "Momma said thats for bad people i dont wanna be a bad person mama will be sad." " Oh no deary its only bad if its forced but you want this, dont you Miss Glitcheard?" she looks patheticaly at the ground as i sense her thinking, maybe some old giving in will do the trick. 

I lean in close to her ear as i wispered:" Not even if i give some pathetic points to hufflepuff? Hmm? Wouldn't you like that little Miss?" And at that she looks at me and with a frown quickly nods her head." Alright then,lets get started. Get down on your knees infront of me." 

She obeys my orders as i move the chair to the side. She sits right in front of my legs. I started to move down the zipper on my pants revealing my white boxers. I slowly reach my hand into them as i take my huge cock out. She looks at it with wonder her eyes growing larger .

 "Its already half erect and leaking precum. Go on and put it into your hands Miss." She then slowly took it into her soft hands and squeezed it a little bit."Oh my Merlin that feels soo good. You see those ball like testicles under? You need to squeeze them gently." As she reaches down i cant help but feel excited, than i saw that my cock had twitched now fully hard.

She looked at it in surprise before slowly squeezing my heavy balls. It felt like i was in heaven. But i knew what would make it even better. " Do you see that mushroom shape? I want you to put it in your mouth." 

She looked at me so innocently as she opened her mouth, slowly taking in my tip. As she started to suck on it like a lollipop, it felt as if i was in heaven. I then pushed her head further as i heard her gag and choke, i looked right into her eyes as i saw tears flowing onto her cheeks. 

I tried to reach out to wipe them away as she started to gurgle and tap my thighs violently. I let her go to breath air as she started caughing. After a few seconds i took her back onto my cock, this time i felt i was close so i started to pound into her mouth. 

My balls slapped away on her jaw as she choked. "It'll be over soon i promise, just a few seconds more." I saw her eyes roll back into her head. She looked so fucking hot like that. I soon aproched my goal and for the last time i held her head down to my pubes. 

Her hands violently hit my thighs and her eyes had closed, knowing she was going to pass out i pulled out. I closed her mouth with my hand as i said: "I want you to swallow it all, or else you get punished." She shook her head no and moved back, as soon as my hand left her face she spitted out my jizz leading to a few coughs. 

She looked at me sadly as i just looked at her with slight anger for spitting my load out. " Im sorry i couldn't do it, it was too yucky and salty." "You think that its disgusting huh?" She shook her head yes. "You really are spoiled rotten. You think you can just spit it out like that huh? It takes time for me to make it happen you know. Do you understand that?"

She looked at me with eyes blowing with tears.

" Y-yes i do. Please dont punish me i wanna be a good girl, not a bad one. Am i a good girl sir, am i?" Her lip wobbled as she said that. " Right now your a really bad girl. You wasted what i gave you. And you will get punished. Now bend over the desk." She shook as she got onto her legs and took a few steps, she laid onto her stomach on the table. 

I put my cock back into my pants and walked behind her. I put my hand onto her hips as she shook a bit, trying to look over her shoulder. I then put a hand under her skirt and took it off with one swift motion along with her underwear.

 I kept her thigh highs on though, she looked so hot in them. I then took my wand into my hands and said ill give 10 spanks to your pussy, you will count each one, if you miss one i will start again. Understood?" 

"Yes i undertand sir." She said cutely.

I then so sudenly bought the wand down to her right cheek, making her jump in suprise.

"One!" She yelped. I made sure the second smack was a little more near her cunt.

"Two!" She yelped yet again. I had a smirk on my face as i continued the abuse on her cheeks. 

On the last slap she was crying so beautifuly, while i was rubbing her wery sore cheeks so it would hopefuly relieve some of the pain.

"You were good my sweet little dove, you deserve a reward dont you now? How about 30 points to hufflepuff? Hmm, would you like that?"

"Yes thank you Proffesor!" She said with a cute smile, as always.

"How about i bring us some tea darling, would it make you feel any better?"

"Yes Proffesore, with honey please!"

"Of course sweetheart." Oh how i love her.

#snape x reader #snape x you #snape smut #severus snape #harry potter