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slytherizz · 2 months

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Playing God - Auror!Sebastian x Dark!MC

Tags/Warnings: 18+ | Non-Con | explicit sexual content | Dark!MC | Polyjuice Sex

All tags can be found on Ao3

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Decorated Auror, Sebastian Sallow had not anticipated how his life would diverge so sharply from the woman he once loved, the most wanted and notorious witch in Britain. Or how their paths would continue to cross - their fates still bound together.

A/N This fic has been living in my WIPs for about 6 months...I wanted to reverse the dynamic of my longer fic with Sebastian being the Auror this time and in doing such explore some darker themes. Short multi-chapter that will probably end up being three chapters at most.

She was pretty enough he supposed in a homely sort of way.

Petite, with neat shoulder-length hair that brushed against narrow shoulders and, a soft bow to her overly thin top lip. But her dress was old-fashioned, a severe high-neck buttoned almost to her chin, ruffled layers of her underskirts impractical and lumpy. Layers upon layers, of an unflattering shade of yellow washed out her otherwise pleasant features.

Compared to the other witches that would frequent such a seedy establishment with their low necklines and light skirts, she would be considered dowdy.

If it wasn't for her eyes. Keen and alert as if beneath the sheep-like exterior lurked something dangerous. He most likely would have overlooked her too.

To even the keenest observer it wouldn't look like Sebastian had any particular tastes when it came to women or men. Much to his displeasure, the qualities that drew him in were rarely mere aesthetic.

Barked laughter like an ill-tempered hound. The smell of mallowsweet. Aromatic and earthy. Teeth pressed lightly into a bottom lip like they held all the cards in a game no one else knew they were playing. Until they spread the winning hand. Smile so wide it unnerved, bore too many teeth.

Tonight, it was keen and dangerous eyes that reminded him of her.

They shared no other similarities and from what Sebastian could discern from her well-manicured nails, and unblemished skin, bar a pale line around her finger where he supposed an engagement ring would usually sit - this was no fighter.

This was a proper young lady - who had wandered onto the wrong side of town looking for a sensible amount of trouble as her wedding day, most likely to some equally wellbred suitor, loomed over her like a dark cloud.

As if Sebastian were screaming his thoughts at her across the crowded tavern, those sharp eyes flicked their attention to him. Raked over the thinning patches of his civilian cloak, the shadow across his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes he'd given up glamouring. After years they were as much a staple of his face as the freckles on his nose.

The marks of a man who hadn't enough time to shave let alone visit a tailor, a man who would scarcely have enough time to ask her too many intrusive questions.

She smiled. Jarring was the only way Sebastian could describe how her face seemed to split horizontally across its centre. Neither half quite belonged to the other. The demure and polite curl of her lips was offset by the razor-edged scrutiny of her darkened gaze. Predatory. Hungry. In a way that made his mouth go dry and cool sweat beads on the back of his neck.

Ice clinked against the side of his glass as Sebastian knocked back the remaining dregs of whiskey. Disguising the way his lip twitched at the corners under the weight of her eyes. Amber liquid burned his throat was nothing compared to the heat prickling across his skin.

Sebastian held up two fingers to indicate to the Barmaid over the raucous patrons of the pub. She placed a second glass on the bar filling them both with a more than generous pour.

"Cheers," Sebastian said, placing the coins into her hand, a little extra for her trouble as he always did. The barmaid smiled brightly, flushed and preening, over a few extra sickles as if he'd declared some great love for her. Though he supposed generosity was not a trait of many that frequented the Ogre's Arms. She leaned a little further over the bar than was strictly necessary, her fingers linger too long against his palm as he hands over his sickles.

Sebastian did not miss the way that the strangers' eyes tracked the interaction. As swift and deliberately as he had been trained to be with every motion, he slipped his hand from the barmaid's grasp deftly hooking his fingers into the rim of the grotesquely full tumblers as he spun on his heels.

Whatever the poor girl had been about to say faltered in her throat. Crackling out of life like a dying gramophone. He really should have felt some sympathy for the poor girl.

She'd made her fondness for him quite obvious over the years. Despite how Sebastian would sidle out the door with what must seem like any witch but her. Too worried about any kind of arrangement that would ask for more than he was willing, or able, to give. Nor did he wish to find a new hole to drown himself in.

And regretfully - her gentle honeyed voice and hopeful doe eyes that delivered longing glances had never stirred anything inside of Sebastian. As much as on some nights he wished they would.

Sebastian weaved through the sparse gathering around the bar of the more rambunctious patrons. Turning a blind eye, to the corner booth and the two witches poorly disguising their face under their dramatic hoods, exchanging money, a rather suspicious-looking sack at their feet which gave a periodic shudder and what looked like spines protruding from the burlap. It may be his job to investigate suspicious behaviour such as this but- he'd rather not have to explain to his sergeant exactly what he was doing in this pub in the first place.

Approaching her solitary table nestled in the corner, she inclined her chin up towards him. Smug. Sloped oak beams cast a thick shadow, and candlelight flickering against her cheekbones made her features waxy like an oil painting against a grimy canvas.

"May I?"

She tilted her head, as though she expected nothing else but was amused by his gesture nonetheless."Only because you brought a bribe."

Sebastian hooked the heel of his boot around the chair leg pulling out further. Placed the two glasses on the table as he sat, careful not to spill any against the oak surface. Not that it would be such a shame if it did. Cheap whiskey from a smudged glass was hardly a waste.

Sebastian tipped his glass to her in toast, she did not feign even the slightest interest in her glass or his hollow act of chivalry.

"I haven't seen you here before," Sebastian said.

Flexing her fingers, she admired those well-polished nails. "No. I don't suppose you would have."

West Country. Quaint. As out of place amongst the sea of London accents as her dress was from this decade. Confirming a very important fact for Sebastian she was certainly not from around here. For the best.

"This doesn't seem like the place for such a nice young lady such as yourself."

Chin resting on the back of her delicate hand. A feline grin spread across her face, as she lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Nor the place for well respected Ministry men."

Tension seized Sebastian's shoulders. Unnerved by her perception, his eyes darted across the sea of faces. He'd left the scarlet cloak with the gold badge adorning his lapels in his flat long before he'd made apparated to the bottom of Knockturn Alley. Places like these didn't take too kindly to rozzers scrambling their clientele. Nor would he want it to become common knowledge at the Ministry that he frequented grimy drinking holes on his off hours. He was certain she'd been alone but that prickle of unease had his hand reaching towards his wand.

She caught his arm swiftly, delicate fingers folded up the cuff of his cloak. Ministry insignia branded into the tan leather strap that secured his wand to his forearm.

Chuckling breathily to himself, Sebastian felt the tension ebb as, just as swiftly, she turned down the sleeve. "Half the people here carry their wand tucked up their sleeve. You have a keen eye, to have spotted that mark from halfway across the room, lass. Do you make it a habit of checking if every man who approaches you is an Auror?"

Sharp eyes glinted with mischief. "Only the ones that interest me."

"Must be my lucky day." He leaned in closer, bitter whiskey breath disturbed a loose curl around her ear as he whispered. "Unless there's a reason you have to be on such high alert for authority I should know about?"

"Do I look like the kind of woman who would have much trouble with the law?"

He cast his eyes down, at her unblemished hands. Free of callouses and scar tissue, the tight restrictiveness of her bodice ill-suited for battle, her polite disarming smile - even those eyes, so reminiscent but not quite right. Despising the remorseful pang in his chest. Nothing like her.

"Well if that's the case this," he gestured around the damp crooked hole masquerading as a tavern. "Certainly isn't the place for you."

"Nor you. Unless the requirements for holding such an esteemed post has gone severely downhill and they let swindlers and murderers into their ranks." He almost winced at the sting of the insult she unwittingly delivered.

"Perhaps lurking around in dingey bars with terrible whiskey isn't suited to either of us. Perhaps, upstanding members of society that we are, should go somewhere we can feel more…relaxed."

"And where exactly is there such a place for me?" Most women would have covered that glaring tan line on her finger, under gloved hands or glamour, but she seemed to flaunt it as she ghosted it across his knuckles; an invitation.

Sebastian's grin widened. "I have a few ideas."

"I don't have much time. So you better make every minute count."

***

Sebastian unlocked his front door with a snap of his fingers. Gestured her inside, his hand pressed into the small of her back. She inclined her head towards him, a smirk playing on her lips at the hollow politeness of his gesture. Knowing full well his intention of inviting her back to his flat was far from gentlemanly.

Exaggerated skirts shifted as she stepped inside. Soft lamp lights scattered around his living room sparked to life in welcome illuminating the small living area. Her formal attire looked out of place; more suited for high tea than the sparsely filled space Sebastian inhabited.

Files strewn across the long velvet settee, scattered teacups and candles burned down to the wick littered every available surface. He knew the larder would be just as barren save for some tea bags and a half-empty bottle of gin the department had cobbled together to purchase for his promotion. He didn't even like gin. The presence of female company always seemed to highlight just how every inch of his flat screamed bachelor.

Sebastian shrugged off his cloak, hooking it on the back of the door. Never once taking his eyes off her. Odd little creature that she was. Against the faint moonlight that trickled in from the arched window on the far wall, her face cloaked in darkness, she cast a dramatic silhouette.

Not quite her. No. But her dress despite its bulk could not disguise the dip of her waist, an alluring swell to her chest. With her face masked from view, he felt his drink-fogged mind teeter dangerously on an edge he would not let it wander past.

She'd bent down, and pinched the corner of a piece of parchment he'd discarded the previous night between her thumb and forefinger. Sebastian slipped his wand from the holster. With a flick, the paper pried itself free to rejoin the rest which were shuffling themselves back into their file before shooting across the room into the waiting drawer of his bureau. The gold lock clicked shut, locking them securely away with an audible snap.

Her head whipped around, her chin jutted out in irritation, and her eyes narrowed slightly into a glare. Sebastian shrugged, as he unbuckled the holster on his arm, placing it on the narrow kitchen island. "Classified information. I'm sure you understand."

Sebastian couldn't have nosy witches trawling through his case files. He'd seen plenty of Aurors sacked for lesser sins. And reporters from the Prophet certainly weren't above seduction tactics to get their stories. That knowledge did nothing however to stop the tingle that spread down his spine that the defiant look in her eye ignited in him.

"I suppose." She shrugged, a forced display of indifference. Before proceeding to further inspect his residence. Striding about like she owned the place and Sebastian was merely some troublesome tenant.

The cramped flat he'd started renting in London straight out of Hogwarts could hardly be considered a home. Sebastian never planned to make it one. Or stay for as long as he did. Merely a stepping stone, at the start of his career. Close to the Ministry, so he could collapse after a long day.

Eat. Sleep. Breath. Work.

That desperate desire to prove himself more than what he'd been. Never satisfied with his lot in life. By the grace of Merlin, he'd been given a second chance to make himself a man - his parents, his sister, that he could be proud of.

He had planned to settle down eventually. Fix the decaying bones of his parents' old house on the hill with her by his side. Both were now a faded, hopeless dream. Sebastian's life had rarely gone to plan.

Tracing a finger across the well-worn spines on his overstuffed bookshelf she pondered each title with interest. "Quite the collection you have. Some rather questionable titles you have here for a man of your profession."

"Special Ministry approval. They're charmed to be bound to my place of residence - before you get any ideas. Can never be too prepared in my line of work. Knowledge of magic of a more…delicate nature can be the difference between life and death."

Strictly speaking, this was not a lie. Any Auror worth his salt would have at least half the books in Sebastian's collection on curse-breaking, dark magic and deadly creatures. Admittedly, his robust library wasn't necessary for his career nor was all of it purely academic interest.

Eyewitness accounts of skinwalkers he'd picked up on a short trip to America, liaising with the MACUSA on their rising troll problem. Journals, written in the maddening scrawl of a witch who'd fancied herself a revolutionary scholar. Wanted to test the corruption dark magic had on the soul. Daft bugger used herself to test her theories. Now all that was left of her was crammed into a bachelor's bookcase.

Smallest in number and size, a thin collection of children's stories and a letter correspondence from crackpot conspiracists. He'd been too late to salvage anything that remained of Miriam Fig's research and this pitiful array was all that he'd discovered over the years with any reference to Ancient Magic. A small house fire could destroy what Sebastian could only assume was the largest collated materials on the subject.

It had been foolish to try to love her, but perhaps more still to hunt the vengeful wraith.

"Well read. Good career. Seems you are a rather eligible bachelor-"

Sebastian smiled moving closer towards her. "I'm not bad to look at either."

"Despite your proclivity for skulking around dingey bars. It's unusual to find a man such as yourself…unattached."

"What can I say - I'm married to my work. Not much time for anything else; not many witches would put up with the lifestyle long-term. Never been interested in marriage."

Liar.

She looked up at him through dark lashes, from how those sharp eyes stripped him back until he was raw and exposed - she scented his dishonesty. "Sounds like a lonely life."

"Depends on who you ask."

Sebastian leaned heavily on the shelf above her head, elbow brushing against well-loved spines. His calloused palm slipped around her waist, running up her side. Felt the curved bones of her corset under his thumb. Leaning in closer still, enough that his breath disturbed the loose curls around her temples. Her lips parted, tongue dancing along her bottom lip as she tilted her chin up towards him like a cat basking in a warm breeze.

She didn't waiver. Not a single flicker of hesitation in those sharp, piercing eyes. For a moment, Sebastian pitied the man who intended to marry her. But not enough to stop him from capturing her lips.

Tasting the tang of cheap whiskey in their mingled breath. Not a slither of remorse as her delicate hands found the nape of Sebastian's neck. Used chestnut curls to pull him closer to kiss him more deeply. Their breath was little more than stolen gasps for air and an opportunity for her tongue to seize and slip past parted lips.

Sebastian crowded her further against the bookshelf. Held tighter to the bunched fabric of her skirts, hands fumbling desperately to feel the shape it disguised. Frustrated by the garment, his lips left her mouth. Travelled down to her jaw, her breathing hitched, head tipped back to thunk against the shelf as Sebastian nipped and sucked at the column of her throat. A little too sharply. But she only pressed into him further. Blood and bruises bloomed wild across her skin as his teeth grazed along her heightened pulse.

He knew what it was like to try to ensnare creatures such as this. How they bit when cornered. Fool that he was, he desired to tame them, change their nature; almost as much as he craved to be bitten.

Maybe that was why he held her so firmly in his grasp. Petticoats balled in his fists, as he pressed himself awkwardly against her. Her dainty form didn't quite fit the stocky mould of his own.

Not that anyone witch or woman had since.

Not that she seemed to care. She pulled Sebastian in like he alone was hers to drink from. Like he belonged to her and she would bend and break him to fit her. Some part of him prayed she succeeded. He'd snap every bone in his body, boil down his sinew in the hope that when at last he healed - he would fit another.

Sebastian pressed his mouth into the crook of her shoulder and burrowed his face, inhaling deeply, as he mouthed at her skin. Soft and supple as an over-ripe peach. Desperately, pathetically trying and failing to make himself fit. But the bridge of his nose bumped harshly against her clavicle and his back ached from stooping.

He'd never melted into anyone since her. No matter how many times he tried with countless trysts with all the ways they reminded him of her in their laughs, smiles, and eyes - they were not her.

Pained groan against her shoulder. Cloth ripped as he tore past her outdated petticoats and the silk of her undergarments. Desperate hands kneaded at her bare flesh. Thigh. Hip. The curve of her arse. Every inch of her skin grew hot, flushed under his touch. If Sebastian had been in his right mind not addled, by drink and frustration he would have handed it to her; for such a wellbred lady, she did not startle easily or cringe from his working hands. With a strung-out whine, she simply displaced the torn fabric so Sebastian's knee pressed between her thighs could provide her with more friction.

Sebastian sank to his knees, hooking her thigh around his broad shoulder. Balanced precariously, her back pressed against the stacks and her leg suspended quivering. Heel dug between his shoulder blades as she sought stability. Her limbs were lean…soft. Delicate like a lamb. No coiled muscle battle worn and firm disguised under her skirts.

That did not stop Sebastian from groaning against the sparse hair as he nestled himself between her thighs. Her muscles clenched tighter. Not with apprehension. No. With blinding unhindered desire. Whining breathlessly, as she urged him to fulfil his role, drop any pretence to do what they came here for. This was no budding romance. And there was no time to pretend otherwise.

Sebastian's tongue darted out teasing the tip through her folds. Eagerly seeking out her bundle of nerves to curl his tongue under her hood. Satisfied, a mewl passed her lips to at last have Sebastian where she desired him most. Hips bucked and writhed with every broad stroke and teasing lick against her soaking entrance. Brown tresses tangled harshly in her grip, those neatly filed nails scratching encouragingly against his scalp.

Her taste was unfamiliar on Sebastian's tongue, but he only lapped at her more fervently. Desperate. As if he savoured enough of her desire for him - he could burn away the memories of sweeter nectars.

Bunching her skirt closer to her stomach, Sebastian's view of her was unobstructed. The collar pulled open where she'd made swift work of the buttons of her high neckline; they hung like loosely strung pearls cascading down her chest which heaved with every breath. Breasts dimpled against the restrictive tightly laced corset.

Sebastian's eyes flicked up to meet hers. Not the right shape or hue but that intensity to them. Storm raging across a riptide, Sebastian, vulnerable in their depth. He could drown in them and would do so gladly.

Blood rushed south, and Sebastian groaned low, pained. He sucked on her clit, coaxing more slick to coat his lips and chin. Hoping beyond hope that her eyes locked on his would flutter closed in pleasure. Her mouth was ajar, each drawn-out moan growing louder as she approached her peak. Clever calculating gaze fixed on Sebastian. He knew he was exactly where she wanted him. Prey to her predator. His cock strained and achingly hard because of it.

Her back arched against the stacks, toes curling against the centre of his back, legs shook with the strain to hold herself upright. Sebastian was relentless. He devoured the quivering nub, tongue teasing as he sucked. Her passionate cry was unrestrained, legs threatening to buckle bringing her down like a house of cards as she collapsed over the edge. Aftershock of pleasure rolled over her, he kept a firm grip on her hip as she rested more heavily against him. His desire for her is confusing and just as precarious.

Sebastian unhooked her leg from his shoulder, palms running along the backs of her calves. She was still propped up feebly holding herself against the bookcase. Pads of her fingers clutching pathetically at the shelves with the ball of her heel holding purchase on the floor.

Orgasm ebbing, softening her predatory edge. A smirk played at Sebastian's lips as he looked up at her once polished appearance now dishevelled. Rattling, with a lust-drunk gaze that defiant chin hanging slightly ajar as she greedily gulped down air.

She narrowed her eyes at his smug expression and gathered her composure before slipping her ruined dress from her shoulders letting it puddle at her feet. Nail digging under his chin as she beckoned Sebastian upwards, pulling him in.

It made Sebastian's heart beat wildly against his chest. A caged canary faced with a falcon.

Teeth grazed his bottom lip, tongue seeking his own. Sebastian's clothes fell away easily from his broad frame. His shirt was discarded, followed by breeches which tangled around his ankles as they fumbled towards the settee. Muffled grunts into her mouth every time her palm grazed his cock, hard and throbbing, through his undergarments. Sebastian moved to lie her swiftly across the settee. One hand pressed into the small of her back the other tangled in amongst the pins now falling loose from her hair.

Inexplicably, she moved faster than Sebastian thought she was capable of. Leg hooked around his ankle like a snake pulling him off balance. Backs of his knees connected with the settee as his legs buckled and Sebastian collapsed bodily onto cushions. Rarely with his extensive training did anyone get the jump on him.

Her lips curled as she observed the way his enlarged head twitched against his belly more eagerly. "Now, I think it's my turn." Laces from her corset pulled loose, she let the camisole shift to the floor with it. "-And you looked far too pretty beneath me."

As she straddled his lap, Sebastian spluttered on his groan and the intoxicating sensation of her wet centre against his shaft. Her palms were flat, braced against his chest, nails scratching at the coarse hairs that grew there. Every inch of her soft, naked flesh pressed against him. His hands settled on the curve of her hips, sliding along her flushed skin with hands that seemed too large.

She really was quite pretty. Sebastian just wished the parts that didn't remind him of her made his heart race as much as the ones that did.

She caught his lips, fingers cupped against his jaw, her mouth moving against his. Teeth and tongue. Hot breath came out in short dulcet pants as she greedily tasted the remnants of her arousal on his lips.

Her hand snaked down between them, taking Sebastian's throbbing length in her hand. He hissed, as her thumb smoothed over the leaking slit, aligning him with her entrance. Eyelashes fluttered a satisfied sigh, as she sank down, taking him inside of her. Dainty as she may appear, she appeared to relish the stretch to accommodate his size, almost as much as he did. So tight she gripped his cock, it almost sent him hurtling over the edge.

Barely giving herself time to adjust before she canted her hips. Weight shifting so she could slide up his shaft until only the head of his cock remained before sinking back down onto Sebastian's girth more demandingly. Needy grunts reverberated in Sebastian's chest as he matched her frantic desperate pace. Forehead braced on her chest as he bucked his hips into her tight core. Pebbled nipple caught between his lips, her head thrown back in a wanton moan as Sebastian ever so gently grazed the peak with his teeth.

Sebastian closed his eyes. Whiskey fog coupled with the godly feel of her clenched around him, he relaxed into her eager pace. Inhibitions lowered, his mind straying to the well-worn path he rarely let himself tread.

Face striking contorted in ecstasy; a savage beauty like lightning striking the ocean. Mallowsweet scent; that soothed like a botanist's herbal balm. How perfectly her body wrapped around his own as if by design. Sebastian's teeth pressed hard against his tongue as her name danced upon it. With his eyes closed, hands held back - that shameful part of him could pretend it was her.

"Sebastian," the witch moaned. He didn't remember giving her his name. Nor asking hers. The voice he heard was not that polite West Country lilt but one conjured from Hades - his divine pleasure and punishment.

Can't let it be her.

Sebastian forced his eyes open, to look at the woman from the bar. Her neat hair, narrow shoulders and thin top lip. Only to find the lines separating fantasy from reality blurred and contorted. His stomach lurched.

Maybe he'd had more to drink than he thought.

Whiskey had crowded and garbled his senses as well as his inhibitions. Sebastian's vision was merely blurred. She looked like her. Not just in her eyes but the sloping curve of her neck, the arch of her nose, her hair longer and tangling against the neat pins that had once held it back.

It's all the whiskey.

If he could bring himself to look away from her face for even one moment he would see the room spinning. But he couldn't look away.

Those keen eyes bore into him, locked with his own and he swore they changed colour. The fire that had been smouldering within sparked, roaring, melting her irises into that familiar hue.

He didn't just have to squeeze his eyes shut to see her and pretend it was her impossibly tight walls clenching around him with every thrust.

There she was.

"You," Sebastian spluttered, disbelief tight in his chest. "No. No- It can't be you. This can't be happening." Who cares if he sounded mad? His mind was spiralled and scrambled, desperate to bring back the visage of the woman from the bar and right himself. This face; her face didn't waver. She rolled her hips once more, bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she cast her gaze down. Over her breasts and the faded scar that curled under the left from the crucio, he'd administered. Firm muscles of her legs earned from years of battle. Calloused hands of someone who knew little of comfort. All were once again her own.

Sebastian's world was spiralling, tipping on its axis. Tension in every muscle in his body. Still as beautiful as she was in his nightmares, even the ones where she tore out his heart. She clicked her tongue, amused then smiled. So wide, it bore too many teeth.

Fucking exquisite. Sebastian despised the way his heart faltered in his chest.

"Pity. I guess the kneazle's out of the bag," she purred, teeth raking sharp across his earlobe. So sharp it shocked his spiral back into sickening clarity like ice in his veins.

Like a shot, Sebastian wrapped his hand hard around her throat forcing her face away from him. Thumb pressed harshly into the corner of her jaw with his iron grip on her windpipe. Any sane woman would tremble to have his large hand like a vice around her throat in anger. Cower, under the venom in his eyes.

But she was far from sane; perhaps never had been. She gasped involuntarily choking around where his fingers so deeply pressed into her flesh, but the smile on her lips never faltered despite how he could feel the hammer of her blood against his fingertips.

"You should know I don't share," she wheezed. It wasn't the polite West Country drawl she'd adopted at the bar - but that feminine purr he knew far too well. Velvety, like a caress that sent shivers down his spine; and if it were possible simultaneously made his blood run cold and his cock impossibly stiffer where it was sheathed deep within her. She whimpered approvingly, hot breath ghosting his freckled cheeks.

"Fuck- how did you-" Choking on his groan as she expertly rolled her hips, grinding on his cock. Evil, manipulative witch. She knew exactly how to turn practically every rational thought in Sebastian's brain to smoke.

"Polyjuice. She was pretty don't you think? You seemed to like fucking her while it lasted. Maybe not as much as that curvy redhead from a few months ago...I had bruises on my thighs for weeks."

Somewhere deep in his psyche, Sebastian knew he should push her off. Bind her. Gag her. Put as much distance between himself and her and the mixed-up way she made him feel. Preferably in a cell in the deepest part of Azkaban the Ministry had long ago allocated for her when they signed the warrant for her arrest. At that moment, over the cacophony screaming through his head the only coherent thought was how to keep her desperately bouncing on his cock.

"I thought it was my turn to have some unsanctioned fun."

No - rose, bubbled and died in his throat. Caught somewhere amongst the shameful rasping groan as she began to rhythmically rock her hips. Never quite releasing her entirely, but Sebastian's grip on her throat loosened as his muscles slackened in shameful pleasure.

Using every bit of her newfound leash, she leaned forward to kiss him. Sin, like ambrosia on his tongue. Lips slotted against him, they moved in perfect harmony to a melody he wished had never been composed on his bones.

She wrapped around him as if the wild thing that she had always been had sprouted from the earth, and curled her tendrils around him. Or rather, like a constant wave beating against him she'd worn his surface. It was a marvel he hadn't crumbled into her sooner.

"You're mine you know," she cooed, her breath hot against his ear.

"I am not," Sebastian spat. But try as he might to deny it, curse her until his final breath - his words rang hollow. And he loathes himself all the more for it. She was not his any longer, but something else. Twisted by cruelty and power that simply wore the face of the woman he once loved.

Shame stirred in his gut; desire coursed through his blood.

"Denying it doesn't make it any less true. You know me blind. When my face is not my own. Fate has bound us, Sebastian. Just as I would know you in any life."

Sebastian gritted his teeth, cheek pressed against her sternum. Fingers digging into her shoulder blades, as he pounded his cock up into her harder, faster. If he was stronger, he would not be prey to her illicit designs for him - but he was not. She keened, greedy to take all he could give her. Consume him entirely if she could. Sebastian closed his eyes and cursed himself for being weak.

Vision narrowing, Sebastian groaned, low and pitiful into the curve of her neck. Ashamed of what he knew was coming. "I hate you," he cursed. Repeated it like a mantra, his lips against her sweat-salted skin as if he could transcribe the words onto her flesh.

Deep plunges into her warmth growing erratic as Sebastian's coil tightens. Her body clenched, tightening around him, with every thrust teased against her sweet spot coaxing more slick onto his cock. His punishing words merely rolled off her curves like water off a duck's back.

"S-Sebastian," her hoarse cry pierced through his resolve. Sebastian bit into her neck trying and failing to hold back from the precipice of the inevitable. Unwilling to surrender any more of himself to her. It only served to send her hurtling over the cliff. His cock buried deep inside of her, her head thrown back, cunt quivering as her climax broke. Orgasm, wracked through her in waves. Engulfing Sebastian's every sense.

Fire and Brimstone. Gentle breezes and mallowsweet.

Beauty. Terror.

Rhythm faltering, Sebastian's hips spluttered as that mounting coil finally snapped. Her name on his lips, her scent on his skin. Everything that remained of Sebastian Sallow was consumed entirely by her. He came hard - with a broken pathetic whine that forced itself from his body as he spilt inside of her.

It was no little death - it was all-consuming. A part of him would never come back from. Another piece of his soul surrendered along with what was left of his dignity.

Sebastian fought for breath. Unforgiving waters filled his chest, ice seized his joints, heart thundered as dark edges clouded his vision, threatening to drown out the light and sound. Choking on his saliva he wheezed, shoulders heaved forward violently. Fresh tears pricked in his eyes.

She shushed his soothingly, thumb tracing idle patterns on his skin with a sickening gentleness that curdled his stomach. He whined pathetically against her chest but she only gripped him harder. Fingers carded through his hair as she hummed a sweet tune peppering kisses to the crown of his chestnut hair.

Perhaps, in another life, he had the strength to overcome the guilt and sickness now seizing his bones. In another, perhaps there was no deception to be ashamed of.

He wasn't sure how long they sat entwined, soft cock still inside her, his spend leaking onto his thighs matting in the hair. When at last Sebastian's violent sobbing eased he felt the enchantment stretch across his body, taunt ropes strapped his arms to his sides, and bound his ankles. A chaste kiss against his temple as she slid from his lap.

Sebastian watched her and tried to pretend for a second, that he was not bound, she was not mad and hips swaying hypnotically as she pranced naked around their flat as she did every Sunday evening. Not his. Theirs. Another life, unstained by dark magic where she was still his.

Fussing with her dress, eyebrows pinched together, frowning as she examined the shredded yellow gown. She sighed, holding the unlaced corset over her breasts, gathering up the remnants to haul them to the kitchen island. She found his wand, with its emerald and onyx handle, the one that had belonged to his paternal great-grandfather. Back and forth she toyed with it in her hands.

"Put that down." A feeble attempt at a threat from a man bound, naked, cheeks streaked with stale tears. Tight from salt they felt stretched like a drum.

"You ruined my dress," she pouted. "The least you can do is help me fix it."

Traitorously, Sebastian's wand didn't so much as shudder in retaliation. It obeyed her easily, stitching up the splintered seams, her corset tightened, cinching at her waist. Her hairpins reorganised themselves. She looked almost like her old self, the girl she'd been at school, with a spark of fire in her eyes that mirrored his own.

"Before you go running off to the next little witch who bats her eyelashes at you, Bash. Try to remember - I don't share." She placed his wand back on the counter and slipped a canteen from her purse. She drank deeply. Gagging, hand smacking into her chest to keep down whatever foul liquid it contained.

If Sebastian had still been drunk the way her face bubbled like stew on a boil would have turned his stomach. Her lips thinned, her hair shrunk back into her scalp, her scars paled and her muscles softened. The woman from the Pub returned, exactly as he'd met her. It did nothing to quell the sickness churning in his gut.

"Au revoir mon amour." She was gone as quickly as she came, but her presence lingered like a gaping, festering wound.

Sebastian sat in the dark. Hatred for her that he cultivated in public and the private yearning he tended to as it grew like persistent weeds in his garden he tended had given way to emptiness. A void that for a time he was content to let swallow him whole as he stared at the cracks in his floor. Mourning the woman he'd loved. But most he mourned for himself, for all she took from him.

Shadows inched across the floor as dawn eventually broke. Long after the bindings had dissolved. Sebastian hadn't slept or moved for hours and his joints stiff, groaned as he got to his feet. He trudged to his bathroom and ran the water until it was scalding. Intent on scrubbing his skin raw. As if she could un-touch him.

#Please mind the tags #dark fic #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic

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devildom-moss · 4 months

Note

Hello and happy 1 year anniversary!!!!! Wahooooo🎉🎉

For the flash requests, can i have SFW, drunk/tipsy with solomon x reader? Thank youiii 💃💃💃

Drunk Solomon is so precious. I swear. I hope you enjoy, anon.

1 year anniversary flash request event - SFW

(Solomon x gn!MC)

Prompt 10 - Drunk/Tipsy

“MC, you’re home!” Solomon exclaimed as he stumbled in through the door, nearly tripping over a side table that he was certain had moved at least 6 inches to the left since the last time he was in that room. It had not. “You’re really home.”

“I’ve been home for two hours, Solomon. You’re the one who’s just getting back. What were you up to?” You asked nonchalantly, still reading the book you had picked up with Satan at a bookstore.

“I went out for a . . . a something. . . but I think I forgot it.” Solomon chuckled.

From your spot on the couch, you looked up from your book to see Solomon’s face right in front of you. He was much closer than you expected. His bright pink cheeks and goofy grin gave him away. You shut the book and set it aside. “You’re drunk, I see.”

“Me? No~ Well, maybe a little. Hehe,” Solomon giggled. He climbed onto your lap, straddling you and lacing his hands behind your head. “You sure are smart. And you’re cute to boot. I got the cutest most adorable apprentice in all the realms across all time.”

“Yes, yes, and I have the best teacher,” you cooed, patting his cheek in an act of appeasement. “Why did you drink so much, Solomon?”

“Why? Whywhywhy?” Solomon shook his head with each “why” as if he was trying to shake the answer loose from his brain. “Oh! I remembered. S’cause my favorite apprentice was gone, an’ I had to eat dinner al’lone.”

“That’s all? Satan and I stayed at the bookstore a bit longer than we intended. I sent you a message to tell you I was going to be late.”

“How come food tastes better when ’s with you? S’like your cute face makes it full of flavor.” Solomon pulled his hands back enough to hold the sides of your face. “S’cute. S’cute. I wanna kiss you all over – an’ I mean all over.”

“Oh, honey, you’re really drunk, aren’t you?” You chuckled. Seeing Solomon the Wise reduced to a sappy mess of compliments and slurred words was entertaining. Perhaps you should pull out your phone and get some video proof for later.

“If I say yes, will ya take good care of me?” Solomon headbutted you gently and kept his forehead pressed to yours. “Take care of me, yeah?”

“The fact that you’re so drunk that you’re not even embarrassed to ask means I don’t have much of a choice.”

“I’m embarrassed!” Solomon exclaimed much too loudly before he pouted and sighed, causing the strong smell of liquor to hit you. “I jus’ wan’ you more than I feel embarrassed. You mus’think I’m a big baby right now.”

“You are a big baby right now,” you confirmed, “but you’re my big baby. Now, get up slowly, so I can help you get washed up. Then we’ll get you some water, and you can sleep in my room.”

“Noo,” Solomon whined. “I can’t let you go.”

“I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him.

“Promise? Sorcerer’s oath? No, wait! Seal it with a kiss, okay?” You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek. Solomon shook his head in response. “Nope. On the lips. Ya hav’ta.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Pretty please?” he begged. “Not as pretty as you, but pretty ‘nough please?”

“One quick kiss,” you relented.

“Yay,” Solomon wrapped his arms around you and captured your lips in a kiss that lasted much longer than a “quick kiss” should have, moaning gently against you as he did. When he finally pulled back and noticed the look on your face, unamused, he broke into a grin. “I’m really old. 30 seconds is quick to me.”

Solomon slowly got off your lap, holding onto your arm for balance. You stood and tried to gently push him towards the bathroom, but he stopped and turned around to take your hands in his. He played with your fingers, carefully folding each one down before unfolding them again.

“Hey, MC? You love me, right?” he asked shyly.

“I love you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Solomon. Now walk towards the bathroom before I have to carry you there myself.” You probably shouldn’t have said that.

A/N: requests are still open for the rest of today. If anyone else wants to enter, there's still a few more hours left. (rules here). I probably won't get to all of the SFW requests, but I may be able to finish them up tomorrow or the day after.

#moss 1 year event sfw #moss 1 year event #anon #requests #gn!mc #solomon #obey me short fic #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #solomon x reader

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ethereal-night-fairy · 5 months

Text

Forgotten sorrows

Chapter 6

Fae!Soap X Female Reader

Witch X Rún X Price

Price warns Soap to stay away from you for his own good and you enjoy a day out with your best friend. Seeing her in pretty dresses might have cause your brain to short circuit with very dirty thoughts plaguing your mind. It doesn't help when Price decides to butt in on you flirting with her.

Warnings: MDNI, smut (Rún thinking about Witch and Price, no Soap this time sorry i got carried away but I'll include it in the future chapters maybe...that depends on if this ship lasts) kissing, oral sex, fingering, light bondage, Top/Bottom, dark themes, mention of trauma, light angst, cursing, hurt/comfort sorry if I missed any.

I'm so sorry I've been gone so long again you might as well just expect chapters at a monthly pace lol. I fought myself so much writing this chapter because i was in such an angsty mood but i had promised to be sweeter and that what i wanted to deliver. I was literally doing a 'Ricky when I catch you Ricky' with my own brain lol. I know I said I'd include Rún thirsting after Soap with some smut and you all voted on it but i just don't think Rún likes him enough to willing let herself think about him like that yet. Especially since she thinks he's fucking her sister. I'm not comfortable with writing cheating. Even though he's so hot. It's got to wait until he confirms he never done anything romantic with Daisy. Your getting smut with Witch X Rún X Price though hope you enjoy that. Hopefully in the next chapter I'll include some real light smut and more fluff. Feel free to send me ideas or questions about the story if you don't understand anything. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. This Fae au belongs to @ghouljams I feature their Oc in my writing, send them some love. This story wouldn't exist without them. Thanks again to @ghouljams hyping me up to post this chapter. Your the best!!! Also shout-out to 🦖 anon on ghouls blog who's Ocs I mentioned in this chapter.

Forgotten Sorrows Masterlist

Masterlist

Words: 8k

Soap laid on Gaz's bed trying to get air back into his lungs. After being fucked into the mattress, on request of course. His wrists were raw from the bounds he was just in, the pain helped distract him from his racing thoughts. Gaz comes into the bedroom freshly washed and glistening with water droplets, a white towel wrapped around his waist. Soap turned to admire his figure as he opened his closet to get dressed for a night out. He drank in the sight of Gaz's toned body and wet skin. Getting up he presses himself into Gaz and starts kissing up his defined back towards his neck while pulling him back towards himself. His skin smelled nice and he felt his cock harden with his familiar scent and warmth.

"Enough you mad dog! I've been fucking you for the better part of today. I need to go hunt. Don't you dare leave hickeys on me", Gaz said, pushing Soap back with his hand as he grabbed his clothes. Soap whined and tried clinging onto him like a lost puppy.

"But ah need yer support right noo mate, dinnae be sae heartless", he wrapped his thick arms around his torso preventing Gaz from moving. Getting fed up with Soap's clinginess Gaz snapped his fingers causing the ropes on the headboard to spring alive and restrain Soap back to the bed. His wrists and arms were bound as the ropes coiled around him. He tried escaping but to no avail. In the time he was struggling Gaz managed to dress and style his hair quickly. Soap continued to throw a hissy fit as Gaz put his socks on.

"I'll restrain your legs too if you don't stop", Gaz directed a pointed look at the exposed man laying on his bed. He was covered in bites and rope marks given to him again on his own request.

"What am ah supposed tae dae while ye're gone", he grunts aspirated, flexing his bound arms still trying to escape.

"Come with me and find someone else to fuck if you're so pent up, I've done the best I can. Almost blew my back out for you with how rough you wanted it today", Gaz gets up looking for his shoes when he hears a knock on his door. Both men exchange glances before Gaz snaps his fingers releasing Soap.

"Get cleaned up and dressed I'll go check what Price wants", Gaz walks out the room not waiting for Soap to answer.

Gaz walks down the hall to open the door for Price. He could recognise the smell of his cigars anywhere. It was unusual for him to visit at night though. More often than not business was done in the early hours unless it was a premeditated attack. The door swings open and Price stands outside with his hands full with takeaway food. The smell of his recent cigar was clinging to him like pollen does to bees. Gaz steps to the side to allow him in, breathing in the residue of the smoke as he walked by. It was comforting in an odd way.

Price came in going towards the living to set the bags of food down. While Gaz trailed behind him waiting for Price to begin talking.

"I need you to do some digging on someone from the winter court", he turned to face Gaz. "It doesn't need to be done tonight but I'd like the information by the end of the week", Price writes down who he's talking about and what kind of information he's looking for before telling Gaz to enjoy the food he brought and to have a quiet night with Soap since he's gonna need some company after what he's going to tell him.

When Soap was showered and dressed he met with Price in Gaz's living room. Gaz was lounging on the sofa enjoying his Chinese with 'Come Dine With Me' on the Tv.

"Ah thought we were going out?", Soap gave him a questioning look.

Gaz shrugged and said he changed his mind and focused back on the Tv. Price was sitting beside him waiting for Soap. He eyed the bags of takeaway wondering why there was so much food for 3 people. Soap took a seat and grabbed a container from the open bag and began eating, waiting for an explanation for Price's late visit. Maybe they could invite Ghost over for a boy's night. A change of pace would be nice from his insistent drinking. Soap noticed Price wasn't eating either. So he assumed he wasn't going to be staying long.

"I just dropped by to tell you to leave Rún alone, do whatever you want with Daisy but Rún is off limits", after finishing his sentence Price stood up to leave with the other bag of food.

"Wait? What? Why!?", Soap put down his food and hurried after Price. Gaz just glanced at them and continued watching his show, too tired to get involved. Maybe if he hadn't fucked Soap so hard he'd have some energy to help but he didn't. Probably needed a hot water bottle for his back.

"I don't understand why you're so upset, there's a whole city for you to hunt from. Just leave the girl alone, she's been through enough already and my Witch will more than likely end you if you try anything with her. So I'm warning you in advance, find someone else", Price left no room for negotiation and apparated his smoke swirling where he once stood.

Soap sunk down into the armchair as Gaz continued to eat. He held his head between his hands as he tried to understand what just happened.

"You're that whipped huh? This the same girl you met at the Renaissance festival? Or the other one you couldn't take your eyes off?", Gaz lets out a chuckle. "No wonder you came to me, it's ok mate there's plenty of fish in the sea. You'll find a decent meal soon."

Soaps first instinct was to protest what Gaz had just said. That you weren't just a meal to him but stopped himself by pressing his lips together. That's all you should be though, a source of sustenance nothing more. He wanted to delude himself into believing the only reason he wanted to expose and get rid of Daisy was to get to you. To make you trust him, to let him inside your mind. He didn't want to admit that his heart stirred when he thought of you rather than his stomach. Or that you had a little corner all to yourself, where you fluttered around carelessly. Tugging at his heartstrings from time to time.

He wanted to devour you, to slowly wear down your walls. To be allowed inside your turbulent mind, he wanted to sink his teeth into the tender parts of yourself you kept hidden. He wanted to cut you open and take you somewhere far away where he could consume you slowly and in peace. Away from prying eyes. Where he could painstakingly inspect every crevice of your mind and soul. While he basked in the taste of your sweet flesh and blood. He'd stitch you back together piece by piece once he was satisfied. Finally satiating his heart on how and why you had wormed your way into his mind. Or what magic did you cast over him to make him constantly think of you.

This is what his true nature was, a predator. Well that's what he's been telling himself. Not the silly lovesick puppy he thought you were trying to make him become with your gentle smile and mischievous eyes. Yeah, this was your fault he thought. You shouldn't have been born so sweet and kind. What other choice does he have but to steal you away from everyone else. Especially those who didn't know how to truly appreciate the value of your blood. He can still feel the weight of your little drawing in his void. You were too good for him to destroy and deplete without discretion. He'd be no different than Daisy who was using you without actually acknowledging the gem she had in her grasp. It would be like chugging down expensive Scotch. No he was going to truly savour you, down to your bones. But that was all it was, this was just about his own hunger. He didn't care for you….. no truly he didn't but for some reason those words wouldn't leave his mouth.

You weren't his typical prey, you weren't easy to hook. You didn't fall for pretty words or shallow complements. You didn't look at him like other people did. You weren't affected by his looks or his magic. On top of that you wanted nothing to do with him. Or was that just what you wanted him to think? He had caught your heated gaze on multiple occasions. Perhaps you felt too guilty acknowledging your own feelings, especially taboo ones like these. You probably wouldn't forgive yourself if you confessed to your sister's man. Not that he considered himself her man, he hadn't even kissed her. There was no need too, when all she wanted was to gain connections and contacts from him. But you found him attractive at the very least. He could work with that.

The fact you didn't have the sight was unusual. He didn't get to take a closer look into your bewitching eyes since you liked avoiding his gaze. But he was grateful for the fact you couldn't see his true form. His only redeeming quality in your eyes as of now. If he lost that he wouldn't know where to start in winning you over. He so desperately wanted to hook you. To bind you you him in a way you couldn't escape easily. He knew he was in for a challenge. You seem like the evasive kind, the kind the could slip through fingers like dry sand. This was no short of trying to capture the wind. It's what make it all the more fun. The chase, the uncertainty, the sweet taste of blood when you finally get caught in his trap.

He didn't want to disobey Price but you weren't someone he was willing to let go so easily. Good thing Price hadn't used a tether to stop him, it was just a warning. He could deal with the witch, he has before. Though that perfume she wore last time they met was atrocious. He just needed to avoid seeing her again, at least she didn't know him by name. What's the worst that can happen? He doubted Price would let his witch kill him. He knew his own value in Price's heart, he could definitely use it to his advantage when pleading his case after he was done with you. He'll be good to you in your short lived life. He'll promise you that.

He just sighed and went back to eating. He'll come up with a plan sooner or later but in the meantime he needed to utilise Daisy. That was the only bridge he could use to get closer to you. You were too smart for his typical tactics, but he'll find a way around that. Maybe he'd have to go old school. But being near you would be enough for now.

Witch had your damaged necklace in her hand. She had brought it back with her after checking on your condition before leaving you to rest. It brought back good memories of your healing. It was a shame it was burnt now. She took off the knot pendant from the burnt bark and put it in a bowl and went to go find a silver chain to go with the pendant instead, after finding it she placed it in the bowl as well. She began her cleansing ritual and started preparing a protection spell to cast on the necklace as it soaked in Acacia flower water. She plucked some asters from her dried bouquet to grind into a powder as well as rosemary, rue and angelica as she chants the spell. She covers the bowl to let it soak.

She stood there for a second just getting her thoughts into place after finishing the spell. You were sleeping peacefully in your room when she went to check on you. While taking a look at your burns again she saw you had tried clawing at your chest. There were red blood marks on your sternum.

She wonders if you crave having tethers like other fae do. Did you yearn for the bond that they created? But you seldom ask for anything. Even for your gifts or favours. Not with her, not with anyone you help. It's been like that since the first day she met you. You'd have a gift ready to give in exchange for any help you would ask from her until she had to stop you. You already knew not to say thank you, and you had previous knowledge of fae until your memory seal was put in place. After that everything was taught to you again by her grandmother and her, not that you would believe in it but you listened regardless and followed what you were told. She supposes that you became a lot like her in that regard. You were very careful not to get tethered. Or if you did ever need help you'd have a repayment ready before a tether took hold. You were hyper independent to a fault, you'd only come to her when things were out of your control, not before. She knew the reason why as well, though she wished you had more trust in your friendship with her to know she'd never see you as a burden.

She took a step back from her workstation to go stoke the fire that was dwindling. Getting comfortable on the armchair, she let the flames lick at her feet. She mulled over her thoughts on how to help you or just reassure you that things will be okay. Tampering with your memories again wasn't going to do you any favours. What if ten years down the line the seal breaks again, who knows what state your mind would be in then. Maybe this was a good time to heal from past trauma rather than try to forget everything. This could open your eyes to how your sister has been treating you all these years.

She knew of the promise you made to your sister, that you'd look after her in the name of family but this was just exploitation at this point. Well it always was on Daisy's end. She doesn't think Daisy ever considered you as family but you did and you continue to delude yourself into thinking this is what family was.

Her eyes landed on a box sitting high on her shelves, strongly warded and locked. It was made of eucalyptus wood from Egypt. Given to her on her trip to Faiyum by a coven who she assumed was from the region. The box had their symbol on it but she wasn't able to find substantial information on the coven even using her connections. A nepenthe draught they had called it but she couldn't verify it herself. The liquid was too small to run tests on or to analyse without wasting it. Nepenthe, a fictional elixir many had debunked as opium or weed as a way to forget worries. No witch she knew actually knew how to make the potion. The coven didn't really specify how the drug worked or what it did exactly. There were potions similar to that of nepenthe, potions that altered memories or made you forget entirely but they said that nepenthe was a gift of new life entirely. To leave one's past behind to begin anew. It was for the mortals or fae who had lived too long, had seen too much. Unlike other potions and draughts the effects of nepenthe were rumoured to be irreversible. Once drunk there was no going back to your previous life. But all that was speculation. She had never seen anyone use or procure a nepenthe draught. She didn't even realise it was an actual thing until they had given it to her with cryptic words as they left without asking for anything in return not even a tether took hold. She wasn't able to track or trace the origins of the box or the coven. It was as if they never existed.

"When winds clash from all four seasons, chaos will ensue. The choice will lay in your hands, on who you choose to subdue", she repeated their words to herself.

She didn't really know what to do with the draught, so she kept it safe in her home after her return from Faiyum. Which was hurried by your hospitalisation. She had contemplated on what the words meant since then, with zero luck. She only had ties to Summer nor did she engage with Fae from the high courts except for Price but that didn't count since he didn't involve her in his work. But there was no point thinking about it now she needed to figure out a way to help you.

She felt a wave of magic course through her wards before she felt his presence reappear. He was in the kitchen putting down food as she walked in.

"Should we wake her?", he asked.

"No, let her rest, she hasn't slept properly for the last few days."

The air was a little stuffy with notes of musk and wood floating through it. You picked up on the scent quickly when you had entered the quaint little shop at the end of the alley with Witch. The shop also smelled of wax and incense and the walls were lined with jars and jars of odd things. Some had claws, others had hair. You wondered where the shopkeeper got his supplies from. Witch was conversing while you walked around the quiet store. There was no one here beside the three of you.

Witch had thought it would do you some good to get out, especially after yesterday's incident. So here you were, helping her gather and stock up on her supplies. It wasn't much different from you going to your favourite art store in the city. It's been a while since you've seen ‘the old hen’, the owner of the store. A sweet old lady who had given you your first job at 16. You worked for her up until you graduated from college. She was very kind to you, to this day you buy your supplies from there unless it's a niche item you're looking for. You remember getting your first paycheck and buying the more expensive art supplies you could only dream of having before. You even got a staff discount. You had also made a friend called Mimi a couple years ago when you were working but she didn't stay long though and you haven't seen her since. She might return though she said she would. She had taught you a lot about painting more so than your actual art teacher. You catch yourself smiling at the memory. Even with all your horrible memories that had resurfaced. Remembering the nicer ones just felt warmer and sweeter than before. Much like an oasis in the desert.

You browse the store as Witch continues discussing the more rare items she was looking for. Your eyes land on a murky jar with eyeballs in it. Were those human eyeballs? They seemed like it. You were hoping it was just a prank, a gag joke to make customers laugh. Why would the shopkeeper have human eyeballs? You take a closer look trying to decipher if they were real or fake. An eye twitches and turns to face you. You clamp your hand over your mouth to prevent a scream from escaping. Once that eye had turned in your direction the rest of them did too. It's an odd staring contest you're having with roughly 20 eyeballs. To say you were unnerved is an understatement. But this was your life now you couldn't just ignore the existence of fae and magic like you did before. Slowly stepping back from their direction, you make your way towards your best friend. She's finalising her order as you approach her. You rest your chin on her shoulder as you watch the shopkeeper weigh and pack her order into brown paper bags tied with red strings. It was strangely captivating watching him do the task. She cups your face gently with her hand as you both watch the shopkeeper's packing skills. Her head turns slightly to place a kiss on your cheek as you continue watching.

"Bored?", she inquires. You just shake your and make a humming sound. Her warmth seeps into your skin as she continues to caress your face with her delicate fingers. Once everything was packed you two moved onto the next store she needed to visit arms linked. The day went by like this, with you two running errands and enjoying each other's company. Around mid afternoon you two finished your late lunch in a cute cafe and decided to walk home.

The September air had developed a sharp edge to it as the sun was lowering in the sky. The warmth once acuminated, now fading by the second. Your only source of heat was Witch's hand holding yours as you two admired old cobblestone buildings on your way back making idle chatter. You really should have dressed more warmly, but heavy clothing always felt restrictive to you. You preferred lightweight, airy, breathable fabrics to shroud your figure. You enjoyed the way the wind would play with your dresses and skirts during all the seasons. Air coursing through the fabric as if it was trying to give you flight, trying to whisk you away from all your troubles. But in all honesty you needed to take your sweaters and jumpers out of your storage, hopefully no moths had gotten in this time.

You're passing an alley when an old shop lantern catches your eye. You stop to peer into the dark space to see what kind of shop it is. Witch halting when you do.

"See something you like?", she squeezes your hand as you walk closer to the old shop. It looks run down at first glance, almost dingy in a sense. But you look closely at the display of a gold embroidered silk gown. If you looked long enough you'd catch flashes of light emanating from the finely done embroidery, before getting a headache and squeezing your eyes tightly. Your eyes wander to the hanging sign post 'Golden Threads' written in peeling paint.

"Want to go in?", she said, giving you a second to collect yourself from your disoriented thoughts.

"Yeah…. If that's ok… we can go home if you're too tired", you fumble with your words a little bit as you talk to her.

"Nonsense! Who doesn't want to look at pretty dresses. It'll be fun. We can play dress up like we used to as kids," She giggled as she led you through the small entrance. "You might find a dress for your upcoming exhibit at the museum".

The sheer expanse of the shop shocked you as you walked further in. It was better lit on the inside than it looked from the outside. Sun lanterns decorated the high ceilings raining down beams of subtle sunlight. You felt heat re-enter your body slowly warming your skin. The walls had racks and racks of very expensive looking dresses, skirts, suits you name it and a whole section of the shop to display jewellery and accessories to go with any items in the store. Witch was greeted by a very pretty sales assistant, but when her eyes landed on you her face fell for a second before she recovered. Witch couldn't help but eye her for an explanation.

"Oh forgive me, I thought you were a moth for a second. We don't allow moths inside, you see. Bad for business if they eat all our stock", she laughs awkwardly.

You simply smile and nod acknowledging her apology even though Witch was reluctant to let it go. She leads you both to the sitting area near the ornate mirrors and large changing rooms. And begins asking questions to best help you find what we were looking for. Once that was done she led you both to a rack with very elaborate looking dresses specifically made for big events.

"Don't worry about sizing, everything here can be altered by the owner who sews and designs these dresses. If nothing catches your eyes you can always book a consultation to design a custom piece. Give a shout if you need any further help I'll be right back with some tea and coffee, she gives you both a final smile before going back to the backroom to get your beverages.

You both begin browsing through the rack, showing each other dresses you think are nice. By the time your coffee and her tea arrived, she had decided on a dress to try on. You waited for her to change as you enjoyed your coffee.

When she emerged from the changing room in that champagne silk gown you almost choked on your coffee. You had to calm your coughing enough to get a good look at her cinched in waist and her ample breasts spilling out from the cowl neckline. To say you were speechless was an understatement, you were gobsmacked. You may have stared at her breasts for far too long that she clicked her fingers in front of your eyes to get your attention back to her face. Heat flooded to your cheeks when she gave you a knowing look.

"You'll catch flies if you don't close your mouth Rún", she smirks at you while walking closer to the mirror to get a better look at herself. The dress was structured and fitted her body well. The colour also suited her complexion making her look more radiant than ever. With her back turned to you got a great view of the very low backless dress. You really shouldn't be looking at her with such lustful eyes. But she looked good in anything in your opinion. She could be wearing a nightgown right now and you know she'd look beautiful. The image of her wearing a nightgown popped into your head and you felt your heart rate pick up.

"You can hardly blame me, it's your fault for looking so good", you flirt back trying to quell the hammering of your heart. You hoped she couldn't hear it. She smiled a full tooth smile at your compliment as she fixed the dress to sit better around her breasts. To distract yourself you get up again to look for a dress to try on. The sales assistant goes to help Witch look at accessories that would elevate the dress if she chooses to purchase it.

A dress that looked to be have dyed in a blood caught your eye, the deep square neckline makes you think it would look divine on Witch (picture). You pinch yourself trying to get your mind to stop popping up images of her breasts. You felt like a pervert or worse a hedon. The velvet fabric glides through your hands as you contemplate if you should show her the dress. Would she think of you as a pervert? No…. Probably not… It would be a crime if she didn't try on the dress, you try to counter your own thoughts. You go back and forth with your own mind for a bit trying to come up with valid reasons for her to try on the dress that didn't frame you as a pervert. But you didn't need to because the sales assistant had come over to you eyeing the dress and looking back at Witch countless times to take the hint in what you were thinking. She smiles and takes the dress off the rack to bring it to Witch as she was looking at necklaces that matched the current dress she was wearing.

“I think this dress would suit your body so well, why not give a try?”, she smiles as she places the dress on the hook in the changing room after showing Witch.

“Oh that dress is beautiful, have you found anything Rún? I feel like I'm the only one trying things on”

“I'll find something soon…. you go try on that dress, I think it'll suit you very well.”, you didn't stutter, you felt proud that you didn't stutter. But your heart rate still hadn't gone down. You hoped seeing her in that red dress wouldn't cause anymore heart palpitations.

By the time she came out you had chosen two dresses to try on. But you could care less about the dresses when your eyes landed on her. Your breath got caught in your throat, almost choking you. A sculpture of pure beauty and elegance she was. The dress accentuated her curves just the right amount without making it vulgar. The neckline was deep and showed the rounds of her bosoms. Her skin glowed from the contrast of the deep red colour. The sleeves had slits running up it. And were connected from the back in a sort of cape that could also be used as a hood if she wanted. It was of the dress was made to be worn by her and her alone.

You knew she didn't particularly like going to big events where eyes would be on her but she had promised to attend your exhibition and go to the afterparty. You hadn't asked her as of yet to be your plus one, finding out about Price made you think it'll be better just to give her two tickets to attend the event with Price and you'll take your sister as your partner. You didn't want to overstep your position as her friend. But that didn't mean you couldn't jokingly flirt with her.

“Wow…..just…..wow”, you drank in her body as if it were the fountain of youth. Your eyes just roamed and appreciated her body and elegance as the velvet hugged her figure. You hear her giggling at your words or lack thereof.

“Staaawp….you going to make me blush”, she says, raising her hands to her face to hide for a second before looking at herself in the mirror. “You really think it suits me?”

You nod your head adamantly leaving no room for doubt that you found her and the dress stunning.

“You wear that out and you'll see men, women and anyone in between falling to their knees for you”, you see her scoff in disbelief before you continue. “Heavens you'd have me on my knees from a simple look in my direction”. She was about to counter what you just said but before she could you both heard a deep chuckle come from the entrance.

“Ya think you'll be able to satisfy my Witch?”, Price saunters in like he owns the place. His hulking body stopping directly where Witch and you stood.

On instinct you find yourself shielding yourself behind Witch as you look over her shoulder at Price. Witch seems just as shocked as you to see Price so neither of you were expecting to see him. You don't know what caused you to say your next words but you were feeling slightly vexed by yesterday's incident and now his current appearance. The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

“I'd do a better job than you”, you say bitterly and mostly to yourself. But by his amused facial expression you knew he heard you. He steps closer causing you to hold onto Witch out of reflex. Placing your hands on her shoulders.

“I'd love to see you try, and when you fail. I'll show you how to do it properly”, he shamelessly counters while giving Witch his signature smile. He didn't seem at all threatened by your comment. Probably knowing you were all bark no bite. Witch smacks his arm when he comes closer.

“Stop teasing her, you still have to apologise for yesterday”, she gives him a pointed look choosing to ignore the words that were exchanged between you and Price probably thinking it was a joke. Price takes a closer look at your face to find your burns healed. Witch's salves must have been extremely potent. It's just another testament to her skills. You shrink back against his stare when you see him coming closer.

“Your right luv, I should have addressed that first”, he places a gentle kiss on her cheek before turning to you. “I'd like to apologise for my unrefined behaviour with you yesterday, my words caused you harm and for that I'm truly sorry”, he bows his head slightly and offers his hand. “I'd like it if we didn't carry any animosity towards each other.”

You didn't know what to do, should you take his hand and accept the peace offering? Or should you keep your distance and not speak to him again? His kiss had you feeling a slight sling in your heart but you pushed that aside. You knew he was a better match for her than you. No matter how much you wanted her for yourself you knew better than to be selfish. She deserved better than what you could offer her. Being her friend was enough for you, even that was beyond what you deserved. You look at Witch to try to gauge an answer but she didn't give anything away on how she wanted you to answer. You knew Price was more than likely going to end up a permanent figure in Witch's life and by default in yours. It was best to bury the hatchet. You glanced at his eyes trying to find any hint of deception but you couldn't. You saw some type of remorse, you didn't know if it was for hurting you or upsetting Witch by hurting you. You take his calloused hand in your soft one giving it a gentle shake before retreating swiftly.

Witch smiles once you shake his hand and tells you to go try on your dresses so she can have a look.

Soap was peering in from the display window of the shop. Price had entered a few minutes ago sensing his Witch was in the area while the four of them were completing some ‘errands’ to put it nicely. Price had dismissed them and Ghost had taken the first chance to apparate home to his misses. Gaz and him had stuck around trying to catch Price with his mysterious Darling who was impossible to hook even though they had seen her before, not with Price though. Gaz was blowing out his smoke from his cigarette dispelling the stress of their recent activities as he peered into the shop as well. Nothing exciting was happening; it looked like Price was helping her choose accessories and possibly getting matching suits for himself to compliment the dresses she was buying. He was so soft with her it was uncharacteristic compared to what he was doing a little while ago. He was acting if he didn't just wash his hand of blood. Price really won the lottery with his Witch she was beautiful and looked even better in the dress she was wearing. Both Gaz and Soap try to look discreetly not trying to get caught by Price. The consequences of that would be detrimental. Or worse he'd put them on clean up duty without magic. He could feel himself getting ready to gag remembering the last time that happened.

His eyes drifted to the changing room curtains that fluttered open to reveal a very beautifully dressed you. Your delicate steps took you to the spotlight in front of the large mirrors as you inspected the sheer fabric. You turn and twist your body scrutinising every detail of yourself and the dress that looked as if it was sewn onto your body. The outer fabric was an ethereal lace (picture), the metallic blue complementing your smooth skin on display. A nude slip peaked from underneath the fabric of the floor length dress yet your underwear could still be seen slightly. You didn't seem to mind though. He supposes this wasn't much difference to type of clothing you liked wear on the few occasions he's seen you. You seemed mostly comfortable with your body or rather comfortable with the clothing you chose to wear. Airy and light very indicative to the type of magic you possessed. The slip dress moulded itself to your figure creating a ravishing silhouette. All he wanted to do at this moment was bury his face in the crook of your neck while inhaling your scent. Maybe bend you over the counter and take you right here in front of everyone. It was unlikely you'd let him near though. Especially now that you had your friend to protect you. He needed to stay put to avoid her gaze. She was the main obstacle at the moment. Seeing you dressed up like this had his blood rushing to places it shouldn't. Hearing Gaz let out a whistle from next to him was what brought him out of his trance.

“What a sight, sucks you got no chance with her”, Gaz smirks at Soap regardless of the glare he was getting. “You should have chosen better mate, you've dug yourself into a hole.”

“What would ye know?, ye cannae even get yer darlin to desire anythin tae make a deal.”

“Low blow mate, why don't I go talk to her and show you how it's done”, Gaz chuckles.

“Don't ye dare go near her”, he growled. Usually Soap was fine with sharing; they'd all know each other long enough for it not to be a big deal. But that fact his chances with you were low and that fact Gaz could literally charm anyone by simply smiling at them was irking him.

“Too late”, Gaz was already halfway through the door before he could stop him.

You stood in the changing room in the nude slip that came with the dress you were about to slip on. The blue lace felt really soft in your hands. But your mind was elsewhere. Price’s words irritated you. Just because he was a couple hundred years old he thinks he knows everything. You're confident in your ability to give oral regardless of the fact you've never actually given oral but that was beside the point. You've read enough books to rival Price's experience in years, that's what you delude yourself into thinking that is. You were probably just upset he called you out on it. But you did have intensive book smarts about sex even if you don't have any physical experience. Not forgetting you also possess female genitalia, so you knew your way around a woman's body. You knew how to please yourself so you were confident if a chance ever arose where you were on your knees for Witch you'd do a good job at pleasing her. Not that it would actually ever happen. Why would anyone ever want you? Especially in a sexual manner. Yes you know you and witch flirt from time to time. But that was just some banter between friends. No one has ever actually approached you with genuine interest before.

But right now your mind was flooded with images of Witch. All you could think about was being on your knees for her. Having her in a state of undress on the couch with her legs spread over your shoulders as you go to town on her folds. Her breasts on display, nipples becoming erect. Her dress pooled at her waist as you caresses and stroke her clit while fucking your tongue into her sloppy cunt. Her juices leaking into your mouth as you drink in her sweet essence while keeping your eyes locked on her face taking note of every flinch, shaky breath and whimper. You'd hold her legs open as you'd ease your fingers into her drenched pussy attacking her clit with your tongue altering between soft and hard licks to keep her from cumming too soon. Feeling her hands tighten in your hair when you wouldn't let her cum. Her tugging and pulling to get you to comply with her needs. In your mind you come up with various positions where you'd have your mouth attached to her cunt. Her sitting on your face as you run your nose over her sensitive folds and clit while tongue fucking her. Or on her hands and knees as you ate her from behind until her legs shook and gave out. Seeing her collapse in a heap on the floor. Breath laboured skin shining from the exertion. Or over the table as you play with her cunt her hand gripping the edge for dear life. You finger fucking into her soft spot until she gushes on them before placing them in your mouth to get a better taste. Running your tongue over her juices on your slick fingers. Making a show of it to get the point across that you adore her taste. Savouring her sweet release and the salt from your sweat. Then brushing your lips against her in a gentle kiss. To give her a taste, an understanding on why you're so addicted.

You pinch yourself again feeling guilty for having these thoughts. You run your thighs together trying to ease the tension building. You hope your panties didn't have a wet spot on them. You slowly start slipping on the fitted dress as your mind wanders again even with you trying to stop it. You think about Price actually watching you do all the things you wanted to Witch. His glacier eyes sending chills down your spine as you work your mouth on his women. As you make her breath catch and shudder. Would he shove your face deeper into her cunt if he thought you were teasing her too much? Would he yank your hair back if you took too long to make her cum? Or would he guide your head gently giving you tips to improve your performance. Would he shower you both with compliments for doing such a good job? Maybe he would tie you up to make you watch how he does it? Preventing you from partaking. Preventing you from touching her supple body as he eats her out. Making you strain against the ropes as you witness her come undone. Showing you how he covers his body over her smaller one, how his thick fingers stretch her out more than you ever could. How she probably prefers his prickly kisses as he runs his face against her thighs. How he makes her a babbling mess in just a couple seconds.

You shake your head dispelling the thoughts. You really needed to stop having fantasies like these. She wasn't yours and you needed to accept that. You chide yourself for coveting something that you didn't deserve. The dress had moulded to your body as you pulled at the spaghetti straps to adjust the top before slowly opening the curtains and stepping out. The dress moved with ease and comfort as you walked to the mirrors. Witch stops her conversation with the sales assistant and Price to look at you giving you a very genuine smile. You feel heat rush to your face again but for more innocent reasons this time. Her looking at you like that made you feel beautiful and bashful at the same time. You inspect the dress as she walks closer giving youn lots od compliments and suggestions what jewellery would look nice. You look at yourself in the dress thinking this dress would be great to wear to the exhibition. You didn't mind it being see through since you had a slip underneath it even though that also wasn't completely opaque. You didn't need to worry about Price looking at you, you knew he only had his heart set on Witch. He wasn't foolish to jeopardise his relationship over wandering eyes. Not that he'd look to begin with. You don't think anyone would really look at you properly other than Witch.

“I think this dress suits you so well. It'll definitely look great at the exhibition, but you should try some more dresses on to see if you'll find something better.”

“I couldn't agree more, you're a force to be reckoned with”, a dark skinned man walks into the store and the first thing you notice is his disarming smile. A full toothed smile so bright you might temporarily go blind if you looked too long. His tall muscular frame comes into view next as your eyes wander down. You're taken aback by his words, you can hardly remember a stranger ever coming up to compliment you like this. Especially not a handsome young man like him. You say young but he was probably older than you by a couple years. Or maybe a lot with him being a Fae and all. Age was tricky to pin with them always looking so youthful.

You feel put on the spot not used to this kind of attention so you just hide behind Witch not sure on how you should respond. A more familiar voice joins his not a second later causing the hair at the back of your neck to stand up.

“Ah told ye not tae come in ye fucker”, Soap grumbles as he comes into view. Price looked at them unamused at their stupidity for coming in when they had no business here. Now Witch wouldn't believe him when he said he was just passing by.

Gaz continues to make idle chatter causing Soap to get even more irritated. You watch as they take sneaky glances at Witch's breasts not that you'd blame them but it still irked you. You kinda wish Price would notice and give them both a smack on the head for daring to look at what was his, not that Witch was considered property. It was more so a show of affectionate jealousy. If you knew how to use your magic properly you'd have sent them flying. Or maybe you should just cover your hand over her breasts to send the message.

Witch keeps her gaze sharp on Soap, a look of recognition falling over her features. And irritation quickly dripping from her form. You didn't know where to look anymore, too much was going on at once. Feeling them stare at you as they argued was putting you on edge. Maybe you should pick something more subtle, something that would draw less attention. You didn't like the attention you were getting even though you have experience wearing pretty dresses to fancy events. The attention was always on the art you were selling, not on you. People hardly ever paid attention to staff. This situation wasn't something you were used to dealing with. Price was growing more annoyed at their disturbance, especially by Gaz's blatant flirting and Soap's irritation. Price had had enough and just dragged the two out as Witch led you towards the accessories to distract you from the chaos. You hear Gaz shout one last time before he leaves. You were assuming he was just doing it to get on Soaps nerves.

“You'll send an invite to your exhibition won't you darling? I'd love to come see your work.”

You did have extra tickets given to you so it wouldn't be hard giving him one but you didn't even know his name and it kinda felt like he was just messing with you to get to Soap. But it was amusing how easily he could get Soap worked up. You also wanted to get at him for causing you so much trouble. You still haven't figured out a way to get him to leave your sister alone. But he seemed unhealthily interested in you. You could use that to draw his attention away long enough to get her to safety.

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plushieanimals · 1 year

Note

hello!! i checked your faq and couldn't find this question, but you seem like the person who could answer it. when you acquire pre-loved or vintage plushies, how do you disinfect/wash them? especially beanie babies? like beyond spot cleaning

This turned into my masterpost of how to clean plushies! I also have a tag for plush care where i’ve answered asks about damaged fur, and brush recommendations + more!

How to wash and clean stuffed animals:

🧸 1. Prep! 🧸

I vacuum/lint roll the plush to get any stray hairs/dust/debris etc. I have a soft bristle brush attachment for my vacuum that i bought off amazon that i use exclusively for stuffed animals

I always hand wash my plushies when possible, but i’ve included a section on both spot cleaning for less dirty plush and machine washing under the wash section!

NOTE: if your plushie has a voice box or joints or anything inside that is incompatible with water then don’t submerge it!!

🧼 2. Soap! 🧼

I use Woolite brand soap because it’s gentle and safe for synthetics. You can also use dawn dish soap at even more diluted ratio. I dilute the detergent with water in about a 1:6 soap:water ratio in a small container (i usually use the detergent cap) Be aware that the more concentrated your soap is exponentially increases the amount of time it will take to rinse it out!

A good rule of thumb for your soap:water ratio is you want the solution you are using to be just a little slippery when rubbed between your fingers.

i use woolite but any gentle detergent safe for synthetics will work. Stuffed animal fur and stuffing is generally made of plastic! NO FABRIC SOFTENER! And no shampoo, conditioner, or soap made for human skin! The moisturizers used in these products will never “absorb” into the plastic fibers! These products will all leave a residue!

You can use very diluted cheap conditioner to detangle a plush but you will need to wash out the conditioner with a a detergent afterwards.

🫧 3. Wash! 🫧

Hand washing: I soak the plush under COLD running water first, and then with my hands i apply and lather the soap in to the fur/fabric and make sure i thouroughly saturate it with the soapy water.

For plush that can’t be bathed/aren’t super dirty/only need a spot clean I use a damp microfiber rag dipped in a mixture of lukewarm water + a tiny (like a drop!) of soap (woolite or dawn) and rub them down all over with it. Then I go over them with a rag damp with clean, soapless water until all the soap is gone. If your plush has medium or long fur you still will want to brush it out to make sure the fur dries soft and not clumped up! Check my section on drying/detailing below.

For machine washing put them in a pillow case to protect the eyes, and put some pillows/ blankets/ towels in the machine with the plush to pad it. use gentle detergent and wash it on “delicates” (or your machines gentlest cycle) with COLD water! Top loading machines do best for this and you’ll want to arrange them sitting up with their backs to the wall of the machine if possible. For front loading machines just throw a bunch of extra pillows/blankets to pad it. skip to step 5 if you end up using a washing machine. I find this method works very well for larger, sturdier plush like build a bears. NEVER PUT PLUSH IN THE DRYER!!!

🚿 4. Rinse! 🚿

Use cold running water! Make sure no soap remains. I smell the plushies periodically to be extra certain i’ve gotten the soap out. You can gently squeeze the plushie depending on the stuffing type. Some plush may need to be washed twice or three times depending on the filth-level, or rinsed multiple times depending on the soap concentration.

Beanie babies and some other plush can be squeezed because of their beans, but plush made out of purely soft stuffing can have their stuffing deformed if you squeeze them too much. Some brands like douglas have stiffer plush with beans and stuffing and they actually can be squeezed too. (DO NOT “WRING OUT” ANY PLUSH!!)

🧽 5. Pre-dry! 🧽

after the soap is 100% out and you are happy with the cleanliness of the plushie, you have two options to pre-dry them:

My favorite way is to put the plush in my washing machine and run it on “spin” cycle only, which is very effective at getting excess water out. In my experience the plush barely moves in my top loading machine, but you can always put the plush in a clean pillow case or put a bunch of clean towels in with it to pad/stabilize the plush in a side loader or if the plush is fragile

If you can’t use your washing machine for any reason, then try your best to get as much water out without damaging the plush. Consider wrapping it in a towel and making a sling with a second towel and spinning it around you, lol. It will be okay if you can’t do any of these things, though! You can also just use a towel and press it on your plush to try and soak up as much water.

Only you know how durable your plush is. The more well made it is (think big brands like douglas, jellycat, wild republic, aurora VS an antique) the more your plush can take without risking damaging the seams/parts. PLEASE don’t “WRING OUT” your plushies as this can deform them!

I NEVER put my plush in the dryer, it can melt the fur fibers and cause matting/damage!! Some people use the “air dry/no heat” but i don’t like to take risks

🧺 6. Dry! 🧺

⭐️ This is the most important part, you must set your plush up to air dry thouroughly!! I prefer to use a fan pointed at the plush. but if you don’t have access to any kind of fan then a hair dryer set on cool could work, and plain air drying works too, it just takes longer.

For plushies with medium/long fur (basically anything besides minky fabric) I brush the fur out with a soft bristle brush once or twice while it’s drying to make sure the fur dries fluffy and soft. I use a build a pear paw brush. You can also use a plastic slicker brush and brush backwards with the direction of the fur to avoid pulling the fur fibers out. Don’t use a brush/comb that’s been used on humans or pets without super disinfecting it first, as the skin oils/dirt can damage your plushies fur!

For beanie babies or any plush with beans you must make sure the beans dry completely, they take way longer than the stuffing!

You need to rotate the plush every few hours or so to make sure it’s drying throughly. Make sure the bottom of the plush gets just as much exposed drying time as the rest of the plush, as gravity will pull any water downwards.

Try not to dry it in a humid room, like a bathroom! There is a risk of mold if a plush doesn’t dry completely before being packed up/sealed up.

I also wouldn’t risk drying your plush outside due to sun bleaching and possibly debris from wind/trees landing on it. You can dry it in a window that gets sunlight still as long as you don’t leave it there for weeks on end. Sun bleaching takes quite a while so the risk is very small.

✨ 7. Detail! ✨

(optional) after the plush is completely dry i go back with the brushes and detangle/fluff up the plush! This is almost necessary for any long/medium furred plush to keep the fur soft and detangled. I use the soft bristle brush for all, and plastic slicker brush for long fur. You can get a small plastic slicker brush for kittens/small dogs at walmart for like $3. Just make sure to be gentle with any combs/slicker brushes to avoid damaging the plush/ripping out the fur. ^_^

This was super long! I have hand washed like 25 plushies of all different sizes at this point and this is what works for me. I have a lot of thrifted plush and they dont always come in great shape. you can reply to this post or send me a message if you have any questions!

extra tip from reblogs:

#there’s probably typos #faq #super faq #wash #washing plushies #wash stuffed animals #clean stuffed animals #clean plush #resources #cleaning plushies #plush care

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thewolvesof1998 · 4 months

Text

✨ 2023 writing round-up ✨

Edit: must have accidentally copied someone else’s intro without realising 😂

I’ve posted 57,184 words to ao3 this year (I also started in June) I have almost the same number of words in my wips 😭 This year has been crazy and this fandom has provided me so much joy, not just writing but getting to know all my wonderful mutuals <3 The 911 brainrot is strong and I can’t wait to see what 2024 brings!

I posted the more words to Ao3 this year than I have in any other previous year, which is wild since I only really started writing again in June. It's wild the choke hold that Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley have on me. Here's my writing round-up for 2023 :)

June

I posted my first fic on June 20 and in nine days I had posted 6 fics 😂

I ain't proud of all the punches that I've thrown

Teen | 826w

Rage, like a broken window to an oxygen-deprived room that’s already in flames, explodes within him and almost takes him out. He resists the urge to slam the phone’s receiver into the wall until it's just fragments of plastic that dig into the palm of his hand, drawing blood. He breathes through his nose and then out of his mouth and repeats that until he gets himself under control. or Eddie's in Jail and he almost calls Buck.

You with the dark curls, you with the watercolour eyes

Mature | 1.6k

Blue eyes meet his, washed out in the morning light, he's like the watercolour paintings they had seen in the museum with Chris last week, soft and fuzzy around the edges, with just a hint of bright colours. Blue like the sky, splashes of pink at his eyebrow and lips. Those lips, that still looked bruised from last night. Or The morning after Buck and Eddie finally get together.

asking all these questions, just to be polite, while dying inside

Teen | 1.2K

But Eddie looks good, like really good, like how is anyone allowed to look that good in jeans and a green henley? His hair is all fluffy which means he hasn't put any product in it, he wonders if it still smells like the green apple conditioner that Eddie and Chris liked to use. There's a new wrinkle at the corners of his eyes like he's been smiling a lot these last few years and it shouldn't hurt this much to know that Eddie's been happy without him but it does. or Buck dreams of what it would be like to lose Eddie as a friend and run into him five years down the line and having to ask all of these stupid questions just to be polite while dying inside.

Tapping Morse Code into your heart

Explicit | 2.8k

Buck can’t keep still. It was a known fact that some part of Buck’s body will be in constant motion, and when it wasn’t? You should be concerned. A bouncing knee, an elastic band wound around his fingers, head bopping, fingers tapping Morse code he had learned on a whim after Eddie told him that he knew it. So Buck can’t stay still even if his life depended on it. Or in this case an orgasm. And Eddie-well Eddie is annoyed. or Buck and Eddie use Morse Code to communicate when words can't be said.

I want you to be selfish with me

Mature | 4.6k

When Eddie gets the call is 12.24 am. He’s lying awake in bed, trying to avoid spiralling but failing when his phone lights up, vibrating and blaring out the stupid song Buck had changed his ringtone to. “So you know it's me calling.” Eddie didn’t say that he always knew it was Buck calling even without the ringtone. Buck’s the only one that calls him this late at night, it's also the only time Buck calls since he prefers to text during the normal hours of the day. Eddie sighs, dragging a hand over his face, looks like trying and failing to fall asleep is going to have to wait. His other hand reaches for his phone, answering. “Buck,” He says, he can hear a lot of background noise, voices and music, so it’s not an ‘I woke up from a nightmare and I needed to make sure you're still alive’ call. “Eddie,” Buck slurs, drunk, “Eds, Eds, did I wake you?” or Buck called Eddie while drunk and Eddie ends up using some of his military training to save him.

You bring me comfort

Teen | 4.1k

Frank asks him “When was the last time you were hugged?” He’d hugged Chris that morning. “No, I mean the last time you were held” He didn’t really understand the difference, he regularly hugs Christopher, Tia Pepa, Abuela, and even a few quick hugs with Buck which never seem like enough. “Not you holding someone else, comforting someone else, just purely someone holding you because you need it” Eddie thinks back to the hospital, thinks back to seeing Shannon’s body on the gurney, the way Bobby’s arms had gone around him and held him up. “When Shannon died, Bobby, my Captain, he-he hugged me” It had been so long ago, years and before that? He couldn’t remember. Frank doesn’t exactly give him homework called “get hugged” but he suggests that Eddie should ask for want he wants next time he needs comfort instead of putting on the sweater. or Eddie is touched starved and just needs a hug instead, instead he has his sweater.

July

I Can See You

Teen | 3.1k

Eddie gets out of his truck and watches as Buck sings along to whatever song is playing in his car. It’s captivating but Eddie thinks many things about Buck are. He’s unashamed as he belts, singing into his phone like it’s a microphone. Buck looks up and makes eye contact with Eddie, who can feel his lips stretched in a smile. Buck smiles back, continuing his impromptu show, now singing to Eddie even though he can’t hear it from across the parking lot. Eddie watches for a minute or so before walking over to Buck’s jeep, drawn to him like he has his own gravitational pull, stronger than the earth's as if Buck is the only reason Eddie hasn’t gone floating off into space yet. As he gets closer he can hear the muffled music, he can see the blue of Buck’s eyes as they gleam from joy. Eddie can barely make out the words: I see you, I see you, baby, Oh, baby OR Buck’s a Swiftie and he makes Eddie listen to Speak Now (TV) and accidentally confesses his love because of the song I Can See You

Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em

Explicit | 17k | 2/3

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks as Eddie slides up to the bar. “Whiskey, neat, thanks” “Make that two” A voice says from beside him, Eddie turns and takes in a black leather protection vest that’s undone over a bright blue button-down shirt. He drags his eyes up, over pale skin, an adam apple and stubble to blue eyes a shade or two lighter than his shirt. His white cowboy hat is back on, it makes the pink mark on his eyebrow stand out. There's a small smirk on his lips that Eddie does not linger on. “Evan Buckley,” He says, holding out his hand. Eddie clears his throat, “Eddie Diaz” He says shaking the offered hand, noticing the callous and firm grip before pulling back. OR What if Eddie had never left El Paso? What if Buck became a bull rider after being a ranch hand? After Eddie gets back from Afghanistan and Shannon divorces him some of his high school buddies decided to drag him to the rodeo to cheer him up. I don’t think they had in mind Eddie getting blown by a rodeo star behind the stable but it sure did improve his mood. Now Eddie can’t get Buck out of his mind and he might just become a rodeo regular.

Under the Guise of Violence

Explicit | 3k

Buck was kneeling. Not in the way Eddie had too frequently fantasised about, though from the lascivious smile on his face, maybe in a way Buck had fantasised about. There’s a cut above his right eyebrow, it’s a reflection of his pink birthmark, his nose is broken and blood-half dried-is trailing down to those plump pink lips. Eddie has to force himself to drag his eyes away. His hand tightens on the pummel of his sword, careful of its sharp edge that rests against the fragile skin of Buck’s neck. He doesn’t know how they got here. OR Eddie can't touch Buck unless it's to hurt him, after a sparring match Buck confronts him and it leads them back to Eddie's bedroom.

August, September and October I didn't post any fic- I was moving country and could not finish a fic to save my life 😂

November

nicknames, supernova similes and the family we make

Teen | 800w

“Bobby, I’d like you to meet, Robin Buckley-Diaz,” Buck looks at the small bundle in his arms, bright blues staring right back up at him, “This is your Grandpops.” Bobby clears his throat, “Grandpops?” Buck looks up at the man who’s been more of a dad to him than his own blood, who had been by his bedside at every hospital visit and helped him grow up into the man he is today, “If that’s okay with you?” OR Bobby and Athena meet Buck and Eddie's new baby girl.

let me cradle your body (be a safe place to rest)

General | 1.9k

“Seat theif,” Buck pouts, “Where am I supposed to sit?” He asks and look, if he purposely makes his eyes all big and puts a little whine in his voice in a deadly combination that usually has Eddie folding to his whims that it’s between him and the universe okay? “Here,” Eddie says, patting his thigh and it shortcircuits Buck’s brain for longer than it probably should’ve. Eddie doesn’t actually mean that, he’s just messing with Buck right? Because as much as they’ve been accused of practically sitting on each other, they’ve never actually sat in each other’s laps. Buck opens and closes his mouth a few times before deciding that if Eddie is pulling his chain then he’s going to regret it and if it’s being earnest then it probably is comfier than the floor and better than being squeezed into a too-tight spot. “Okay,” Buck says, Eddie offers him a smile and his hand, as if daring him to do it. Buck takes the offered hand and Eddie pulls Buck onto his lap. OR What starts out as a normal 118 gathering ends with Buck sitting on Eddie's lap.

December

even when the heat breaks I’m still yours

Explicit | 6.1k

Eddie has many regrets in his life, lying on the floor of the cabin in the middle of a heat wave with his six foot two best friend pressing into his side while they were both trying to stay cool under the pitiful breeze of the ancient ceiling fan had the possibility to be high on that list. He turns his head to be confronted with a tattooed and freckle-covered shoulder, he can’t remember when they decided to strip down to their boxers -he might have suggested it after Buck’s third shirt had been soaked with sweat and had been clinging to his muscles in a dangerously distracting way- but at the time it had seemed like a good idea, he wasn’t sure about that now considering this was the third time in the last hour that he’s found himself turning to stare at the miles of bare skin. OR Buck and Eddie get stuck in a cabin during a heatwave, they finally take the next step and fuck nasty on the floor.

We might end up real close

Explicit | 2.2k

“Said you wanted us to bond. We might end up real close.” When Buck said those words to Bobby just merely few hours ago, it had been a joke about how if the bomb went off they would be reduced to blood, shards of bone and flesh, mixed so together that you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart without DNA testing. He hadn’t meant it in the way that it was now true with Eddie balls deep in him as he fucks Buck against the tile wall of the firehouse showers, both of them still fully dressed, uniform pants undone and pulled only down to mid-thigh in their haste. Though he thinks maybe Bobby wouldn’t be too surprised by this development given Buck’s recent past. OR the 2x01 Rewrite where Buck and Eddie fuck after removing the bomb.

They don’t know (your name is already mine)

General | 7.6k | 3/4

“Sir, can you tell me your name?” Buck opens his mouth, his tongue feels like lead, “E-ed-” “Ed? Is your name Ed?” Buck shakes his head and winces when he sends a spike of pain through his head. Hands pull at his shirt and he feels the cold metal of scissors as they cut his brand new shirt. He’s supposed to be wearing that to tomorrow's Christmas Eve dinner. Eddie had said the colour makes his eyes pop. “He’s wearing dog tags…Eddie Diaz,” Buck moans, blackness at the edges of his vision seeps in, he tries to blink it away, no, they need to call Eddie, “It’s okay Eddie, we’ve got you,” is the last thing he hears before the darkness takes over. OR Buck gets in a car accident on Christmas Eve Eve and the only ID he has on him is Eddie's dog tags. A case of mistaken Identity, a trip to the hospital and a Christmas Surprise.

tagged by: @exhuastedpigeon @smilingbuckley @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @buddierights @callmenewbie @try-set-me-on-fire @hoodie-buck @carrierofthepaperclips

tagging (no pressure): @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @malewifediaz @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @mangacat201 @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @jeeyuns @thosetwofirefighters @monsterrae1 @princehattric @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @singlethread @your-catfish-friend @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @blurredbuddie @aquamarineglitter @devirnis

#9-1-1 #buddie #buddie fic #thewolvesof1998 writes #2023 writing round-up #eddie diaz #evan buckley

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pupkashi · 1 year

Note

are you still bored? May I request a Megumi Fushiguro fluff?

omg of course !!!!! I’m feeling particularly exhausted today and I’m blaming my period so here is our favorite spiky haired boy to take care of us <3 i go carried away i love him so bad

megumi who finds you asleep with the same tiktok on loop, your phone just barely within the grasp of your fingers and your breathing is soft and even.

he smiled softly at the sight of you. his favorite black sweatshirt hugged your frame, you pajama shorts were only barely peeking out from the sweater, and your feet were clad in some cheesy Valentine’s Day socks you’d bought the two of you. he gently grabbed the phone from your hand, pausing the video and locking your phone.

megumi stopped for a second, debating waking you and moving you to bed or just putting a blanket on you. as if on cue you shifted a bit, forgetting you were on the couch and falling off with a small ‘oomf.’ he bit back a giggle before kneeling down and helping you up.

“morning” he teased and you rubbed your eyes, settling yourself back into the couch.

“what time is it?” you questioned, your voice a little raspy and your eyes still lightly glossed over with sleep. megumi sat next to you, and like second nature you leaned into his side. if you were a cat you’re sure you’d be purring as his hand found it’s way to the top of your head, softly smoothing your hair down, his fingertips grazing your scalp lightly.

“little after 6 i think” he mumbled, you could feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest. the smell of his cologne filled your nose as you breathed in deeply, letting out a small sigh before removing yourself from his side and stretching. “have you eaten?”

the question was simple, but your heart warmed and a smile formed on your face.

“not yet” you replied, rubbing your eyes and looking at your boyfriend.

“I’ll make you something” there was no hesitation in his answer, already getting up from his seat. you grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards you and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“thank you gumi” your voice was sweet and he smiled, his ears burning at the sincerity in your words, “i love you” you added on, pulling him for another quick kiss before letting him go to the kitchen.

megumi finished cooking rather quickly, serving up two plates and telling you to go eat with him. you happily obliged, asking him about his day and hanging on his every word.

you offered the wash the dishes, picking his plate and kissing his cheek while you were at it. a smile on your face as he pouted at you. while you washed the plates and cups megumi headed to the restroom.

“I’m gonna shower and then we can watch a movie?” he called out from the restroom and you turned off the water, setting the final plate on the drying rack.

“sounds good!” you replied.

the apartment was quiet as you settled back onto the couch, your head resting on a plush megumi had won for you at a fair. the soft patter of the rain on the windows relaxed you and before you knew it you had fallen asleep.

megumi shook his head when he saw your sleeping form on the couch, again. there was a bowl of popcorn set in the middle of the coffee table along with a couple of his and yours favorite snacks. the tv screen was settled on a movie he had said he wanted to watch, a smile settled on his lips as he sat next to you.

he draped a warm blanket over you, kissing your temple before cozying up next to you. halfway through the movie you woke up confused, eyes still half closed.

“gumi?” you mumbled, not thinking twice before nuzzling your way into his side and under his arm, your head resting on his chest. megumi wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head as you drifted back off to sleep.

he didn’t try to stop you, he knew you needed rest. he didn’t mind that you didn’t watch the movie with him, as long as you were with him he was happy.

#megumi fushiguro fluff #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi one shot #megumi fluff #megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro comfort #megumi fushiguro drabble

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artemisgrayy · 29 days

Text

From One Hell to Another

[Link to full fic ^ 🔥]

✨ Masterlist ✨

Chapter 6 Sneak Peek WIP

Tags: Alastor x Reader, Alcohol, fluff, soft Alastor, Slow Burn, Tension, not proofread, WIP

A/n: This one is taking a bit longer cause it's longer than the other chapters but I PROMISE the wait will be worth it. Here's a taste 👀

I WOULD LOVE FEEDBACK ON THE TENSE..NESS? I'm getting in my head about characterization 😅

18+ - Minors DO NOT INTERACT with me or my content

“Care to have a drink with me?” the demon inquires, materializing a bottle of Rye in one hand. The sound of his claws clink against the glass, creating a delicate but unsettling rhythm.

His eyes fix you with a beguile stare. You've witnessed him point this look toward others -- many back down at the sight of it, terrified to provoke the demon.

It only entices you to push harder.

“Depends, have you poisoned it?” You quip, the corner of your mouth turning up.

Alastor’s eyes narrow into slits, his smile growing wider, “Heavens, no,” he chuckles, materializing two crystal tumblers in his other hand, “Not this time, anyway.”

He pours a couple fingers and extends the drink to you. One of his eyebrows cocks as you dramatically observe every angle of the glass. You bring the tumbler close to your face, feigning reluctance, but your mouth falls open when the crisp smell of oak and vanilla coat the inside of your nose.

“Holy shit, this actually smells amazing,” you gasp delightfully.

“I have to agree with you there. This was my drink of choice when I was alive,” he pauses, looking introspectively before continuing, “It was my mother’s favourite too.”

This was the first you’ve heard of his life before hell and your head tilts at the disclosure.

“Were you close with your mom?” you ask with your lips against the glass, taking in the aroma.

“Incredibly.” the demon nods, a hint of pain in his voice.

You stare out over the horizon, hesitant to pry further -- family is a touchy subject and you know that first hand. The first sip washes the taste of cherry over your tongue and moan breaks free from your throat.

“Wow,” you gush, holding up the glass to observe the amber liquid as you swash it around the tumbler, “If this is poisoned, at least I'll die happy.”

“The night is still young, darling,” Alastor purrs, glancing down at his middle and index claws as he taps them together, “you know, if you have a death wish," his eyes dart towards you, "I can think of far more productive use F̶͎͓̔̌̕o̴̭̓̇̂ȑ̷͈͂ ̸̩̤̯̋̕ỳ̶̙̓o̶̹͎͓͑̎̏u̴̢̇̆͒r̴̦̥͛̄ ̶̡͙̺̀̂ś̴͇̞͆ö̷̬̩́̔͠u̵̲̅ͅl̷͚͑̀."

“Still on that, eh?" The increased static in his voice doesn't phase you, "You really think you could handle me being around you 24/7?”

“Hm, I'd tolerate it.” his eyes slide back toward his hand as he straightens out his arm.

“You know I'd make it your personal hell, right? Like, to a point where you'd regret the moment you wrap your big, scary hand around mine."

Alastor answers by taking a sip from his glass, giving you that famous coaxing look of his over the rim.

“I hope you don't mind me blaring heavy EDM from my phone everyday.”

“Sounds like you haven't a penchent for pain,” his smile widens, “I can work with that.”

“Good, I'm a bit of a masochist.” you blurt out.

Heat soaks through your features as the last word leaves your mouth and you break eye contact to look down at the glass in your hand. You didn't even realize it was empty, and with all the excitement today, you completely forgot to eat.

"Interesting," he teases, picking up the scent of your embarrassment like a bloodhound. The bottle clinks against your glass as he pours you another round, "I can work with that too."

✨ Masterlist ✨

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #alastor fanfiction #alastor is in hell for a reason #alastor x reader #alastor & reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #alastor altruist #hazbin fandom #soft alastor

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bbyquokka · 1 year

Text

6:19 pm (lmh)

genre: timestamp, smut — MDNI!

warnings: gn reader, soft dom reader, sub minho, praise kink, sexual asphyxiation (choking), grinding

words: 1k ~ (1071)

a/n: i just wanted to write about a member getting choked & ig minho came into mind :]

☆ m.list — ☆ you can also read it on my ao3

do not repost and/or translate! feedback & reblogs are highly advised and appreciated

“you're so pretty.” you hum, twisting his long hair around your finger. “your hair has grown since the last time i saw you.”

“do you like it?” he mumbles, a faint pink glow rising onto his cheeks.

“i adore it, minho. you're so pretty and beautiful.” you coo, running your fingers through his hair slowly. you watch his eyes flutter shut, his plump lips pressing together in a thin line.

he holds onto your hips gently, occasionally stroking it with his thumb. the gently contact makes you shiver and hum softly. the man you're currently straddling is looking so perfect, so pretty; it'd be a shame to ruin it.

“did i do good?” his eyes flutter open, scanning your facial features for any signs of pride you may feel towards him. you meet his gaze halfway, smiling lovingly at him before placing your hand on his cheek.

you stroke under his eye gently with your thumb, minho nuzzling into your palm like a kitten.

“you did so well, baby. i'm proud of you.”

“really?!” his eyes sparkle at your approval. you nod slowly as you hum, fingertips delicately dancing along his jawline.

“really. im so so proud of you, min.” minho whimpers softly, squirming underneath you. you can feel his length hardening underneath you, poking and rubbing against you.

“have i been a good boy?” he whimpers, looking down from embarrassment. you hook your finger under his chin, gently tilting it upwards so he is forced to look at you again.

“you have, min. you've been a very, very good boy.” he gently squeezes your hips and swallows thickly in an attempt to moisten his dry throat.

you lean down, lips softly grazing against the skin of his neck. he still smells faintly of sweat, aftershave overpowering in an attempt to cover up the smell. you nudge the tip of your nose against his pressure point before pressing your lips against it and suckling softly.

minho whimpers softly as he tilts his head to the side, allowing more room for you. you gently sink your teeth into the tender skin being careful not to leave any marks just in case.

minho gently squeezes your waist, hands trailing up and down your sides slowly and gently. you kiss his neck gently, focusing on the spots that make him whimper and wither.

“y/n..” he shaky breathes out, lip caught between his teeth. you hum softly to let him know you're listening whilst trailing your lips up to his jawline.

“i want..” he starts, trailing off. a wave of embarrassment washes over him, the pink tint of his cheeks turning a soft red.

“tell me, my pretty boy.” you say against his lips, letting them softly touch.

“i want my reward…” you chuckle softly, trailing your hand up his chest. you feel his heart rate speeding up against your fingertips, thumping hard and fast.

you let your fingers stroke his neck slowly, finding it amusing at the way minho's body tenses up. his breath hitches in his throat, hands gripping your hips tighter. his length rubbing against you slowly, minho thinking he is sneaky in the way he is currently grinding up against you.

“p-please..” he whimpers. you hum softly, letting your fingers ever so gently poke and press against the pressure points of his neck.

“please what?”

“choke me.”

“that's my good boy.” you coo. minho let's out a desperate whimper before a soft sigh is shortly followed from your fingers wrapping around his neck. you ever so slightly press the sides.

minho softly pants, already feeling the pleasure kicking in. his toes curl, eyes fluttering shut.

“m-more…” you chuckle softly before increasing the pressure. minho whimpers softly, desperately grinding up against you. the feeling of his oxygen being cut off is too much for him; it drives him insane.

“my pretty boy that likes to be choked. you're so very adorable for me, min.” you lean in, kissing his cheek gently.

“tell me.” he splutters, eyes open slowly. “tell me what i like to hear the most, please.”

you decide to sit flush on his length, rocking your hips back and forth in time with his movement. watching your boyfriend tremble and be reduced to nothingness all from the power of your hands and words, is amusing.

“i love you, my sweet boy.” minho shivers, his hand flying up to wrap around your wrist.

“again..”

“i love you. i love you so much, min.” you repeat over and over again. with each sentence, minho becomes more and more desperate.

“c-cant.” he chokes out, fingernails digging into the skin of your wrist. his dick is rock hard by now, desperate from touch and to be free from its strangling restraints. his underwear is sticky due to his pre cum leaking from his tip.

“can't?” you question, licking your lips slowly at how flustered and desperate minho looks.

“more, need so much more. please?” you release some pressure from around his neck, minho whining softly and feeling displeased.

“you're so pretty when you beg, min.” you purr as you squeeze his neck, this time, harder. minho arches his back, soft and heavy pants leave his lips.

“want to be.. want to be inside you.” he chokes out, his oxygen depleting, head feeling heavy and hazy.

“do you want to be inside me, min?” you purr, leaning down and kissing his lips. he weakly kisses back, unable to comprehend the pleasure that's currently coursing through his veins.

he feels high on lust and it hurts.

“so bad. want to be inside you so bad. please y/n? please.. even if it's just for a little while? i just want to feel your warmth.”

“you really do have a way with words. you're such a charming man, lee minho.”

“is that a yes?” his eyes sparkle with hopefulness. you lift your hips up, clumsily pulling of yours and his pants, leaving you both in just underwear and t-shirts.

you go back to rocking your hips against minho, sighs of frustration and desperation evident in his whimpers. he's so close, yet so far. the flimsy fabric of your underwear being the only barrier that's stopping him from being inside you and he hates that.

he desperately tugs at your underwear to which you swat his hand away. his eyes fill with tears slowly, trickling down his cheeks making you coo.

“such a desperate yet pretty boy.”

don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. enjoy!

tags [open]: @sstarryoong , @septicrebel , @bbujiikseu , @cixrosie , @alyszaen , @skizzel-reblogs , @writerracha , @fluffylino

#kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #straykidsland #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee minho #lee minho smut #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee know smut #lee know x you #lee know x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

WE’RE THE LAST IN LINE: 5

Modern day! AU | Eddie x Fem!reader

W.C 2k

Warnings: talks of drug use, abusive psychotic behavior.

MASTER LIST FOR WE’RE THE LAST IN LINE

What the hell is she doing here? It’s been almost a year since she knew where I lived. How does this keep happening?

The tension could be sliced thin with a butter knife. Sectioning out each piece to mix with flour creating delicious layers in a biscuit. After all that’s what Eddie’s life has become, peeling off layers of himself and shedding them around like a snake. Each layer becomes thinner and thinner before finally there is nothing left. But slowly he was growing new skin. New layers to build around his shattered former self. You were helping him do that just by being nice to him. Joking around with him. But Chrissy? No Chrissy was the soul reason for the shedding of the layers, for getting Eddie down to nothing, no epidermis to shelter him, just hallowed out marrow, sucking him dry until he was exactly what she needed him to be, a servant.

She wasn’t always like this, wasn’t always so utterly unhinged. But Eddie can’t think of times like this now. He needs to deal with what is happening presently.

A raggedy blonde ponytail invades your vision as the smell of stale cigarettes and filthy clothes wafts to your nose. Her piercing, bloodshot blue eyes, accompanied by chunky mascara smeared down her cheeks, stare at you maniacally. You can tell she used to be pretty, probably the most beautiful girl in Hawkins at one point. But now standing in the threshold of Eddie’s doorway was a bone thin, haggard looking woman. The hallows of her cheeks sucked in tight like she had a mouth full of lemons. The dull greasiness of her hair suggested it hadn’t been washed or combed in weeks. Her tattered zippered hoodie hung on her like she was a hanger, stains adorning every inch of it as if it sometimes was used as a blanket. The dark permanent circles under her eyes looked as if they would never go away. The yellow stained teeth she flashed were cracked and loose, many already missing. She wore light colored jeans and adidas slides both on the wrong feet.

“Chrissy, what are you doing here?” More importantly, how the hell did you find out where I live? He thinks.

“I— I asked you first Munson!” she stammers shaking as she points a dirty ragged finger towards you on the couch, “who is she?!” She’s licking her dr cracked lips frantically and shifting her weight to each hip as if she heard a melody no one else can.

Eddie is embarrassed beyond belief, he pinches the inner corner of his eyes as shakes his head, “You need to leave, you don’t get to come to my place and demand answers, get out.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me who she is!” Chrissy stomps as she tries to shove her way into Eddie’s apartment. “I swear to God Eddie! I’ll fucking kill her, and you!”

The other shoe dropped. Of course it’s too good to be true why wouldn’t it be? The sinking feeling in your stomach as reality hits you is a sensation you can’t deny. You feel like you could throw up or possibly melt into the fibers of Eddie’s couch. All you know is that you have to get out of there and fast.

Chrissy is still screaming as Eddie’s eyes never leave your face. He manages to shut the door, locking it, “Listen, I’m so sorry, but you can’t leave. I can’t have her knowing where you live…” your eyes go wide at his confession, “I’ll explain later, I promise— just please— here.” He thrusts his phone into your hands, his eyes frantic as he holds your face, “Call Hopper, tell him she showed up and won’t leave, he’ll know what to do.”

“What?! Eddie!” You protest.

“Please,” he begs. “I’ll explain everything, I’m sorry you got involved with this, just please, 5-6-8-3 will unlock it.”

You don’t waste another second unlocking Eddie’s phone and going through the contacts to find Hopper’s number. Your hands are shaking as you hold it up to your ear. A few rings and a gruff voice answers, “This is Hop.” You explain the situation the best you can through a startled voice. “Christ Almighty this girl, on my way!” The line goes dead as Hopper hangs up.

The beating on the door continues as Chrissy kicks, slaps, and pounds on it. Her voice becoming more and more erratic. “Does she even know who I am?!” Or what you did to me— what you took from me?!”

“… you need to get the hell away from my apartment Chrissy.” Eddie says as calmly as he can.

“He’s—he’s on the way.” you explain to Eddie as he’s leaning against the door, the previously open blinds are now closed. You wipe the tears from your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, praying that Eddie didn’t see them.

The look on your face kills Eddie. He can’t believe this has happened, again. That she once again found out where he lived. She must have had one of her cronies follow him home from work. And now you were involved in all of this. Involved before he even had the chance to explain any of it. This must look terrible, you probably are thinking that she is his girlfriend, and she is pissed cause you’re a homewrecker. He pushed off the door with his back, walking quickly to you and holding your hands in his, “I’ll answer any questions you have once she’s gone, I promise you she is not my girlfriend, or my scorned wife, it’s—more than complicated.” He shakes his head and lets out a nervous laugh, “you deserve to know about all of this, but until she leaves, do you want to sit in my room? I’m sorry if this is traumatic for you, I just can’t… I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll fucking kill her! I’ll rip her throat out and wear it as a necklace!”

The lights on Hop’s Tahoe blink through the blinds like pretty Christmas lights. “Oh thank fuck,” Eddie exhales as he notices them. He brings you into his room and sets you down on the bed, “I’ll be back, try to relax.” Eddie whispers as he shuts his door and deals with this mess.

A million different scenarios are swarming across your mind invading and duckling away at anything happy like the grasshoppers of the ‘30’s destroying crops along the plains. The tears fall easy without Eddie’s big doe eyes blinking down at you like you’re an injured animal. So this was Chrissy? The girl tattooed on Eddie’s chest. The unanswered questions burning through your soul etching across it and simmering. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, just certain that the smell of Eddie’s muted cologne on his pillow was comforting you.

The knife against your throat is dull but cutting your delicate flesh nonetheless. The banshee like screaming shrill in your ear as the blade cuts deeper and deeper, the choked spluttering noises of your windpipe being severed ring throughout your apartment. The maniacal laugh coming from Jason and Chrissy sounds over and over and over in your head.

You shoot awake. Sweat pouring from your body as your eyes adjust to your surroundings. You’re in Eddie’s bedroom. He is sitting on the bed beside you, hands cradling your face. He’s wearing sweatpants now and a faded shirt, and he looks tired. His eyes half lidded as he soothes you, “It’s okay, just a nightmare, she’s gone— Hop took her back to the halfway house she was staying in.”

A wave of relief washes over you as you sit up, “Eddie, a—-are you okay?” Your eyes search his face as he fights to stay strong.

“Yeah I uhh—” he starts running his hands down his face and looking towards the ceiling, “just can’t believe this happened. That she found where I live again.”

You grasp his hand in yours, rubbing his rough knuckles with the soft pad of your thumb. “Who is she?”

Eddie exhales loudly, letting the air completely escape his lungs. “She’s my ex, from high school.” He begins, shoulders sagging slightly with each word spoken. “She wasn’t always like this. In fact she was sweet, super outgoing, and beautiful,” he lets out a sigh at the memory, “anyway, we started dating and after about a year and a half we found out she was pregnant. We were both seniors and I was kind of excited about it, and she was too. Both of us were nervous, but I know she couldn’t wait to be a mom.” He sniffles and lets out another long breath. “The baby— we— Chrissy was about seven months along, when it happened. We were driving back from her parents place to my trailer, roads were icy—” he closes his eyes, and puts his head down, hair shielding his face as his voice breaks, “I —I tried to keep my old van on the road but we were sliding so fast I couldn’t control it. We hit a tree head on. The van didn’t have seat belts, and Chrissy was— we found out later that night that there wasn’t a heartbeat. We were devastated. She had to deliver the baby, a girl, that we named Chrissy.” His hand automatically flew up to his chest where the tattoo lay, pulling the collar of his shirt down to show you. “We stayed together probably another year after the funeral. She wasn’t herself, after the painkillers she was given ran out she started stealing from me, from her parents, anyone just to get high, to forget everything. She never finished high school, just completely went off the rails. I don’t even know what she’s on now, but it’s some pretty dark shit… heroin I think.”

You’re in complete shock. This entire time knowing Eddie, you had thought that damn tattoo was for his girlfriend. Finding out it’s for his daughter who passed away, made you feel like a goddamn fool. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” You say, wiping a tear from his lower lashes, “what happened after that?”

“After that she was pissed that I didn’t want to be with her anymore and threatened to tell the cops that I was drunk driving that night, I wasn’t, but the threat is always there.”

“Is she the one who c—”

His voice picks up and he’s talking quicker than ever. “Calls me every hour of every day? Yeah that’s her. She likes to get high and then forgets that we aren’t together. I help her out sometimes because I feel bad. Her family disowned her, moved away from Hawkins entirely after she left treatment for the sixth time. The people she hangs out with, if you could even call it that, have threatened my life more times than I can count, that’s why I didn’t want you to go to your apartment so she could find out where you live.” He stands up suddenly and paces around the room, “I can’t believe I got you involved in this, I won’t ever forgive myself if something happened to—”

You stand slowly, stepping closer to him as his relentless pacing continues. “Eddie,” you say calmly, grabbing his hand as he walked past. “Look at me.”

He stops in his tracks, tears threatening to spill that are welling up in his eyes. “I just— you don’t deserve this, you barely even know me and now you’re involved with all this, this crazy shit! I’m so sor—”

You hold your hands on his face and look him deep in his eyes, “none of that matters to me, just because you have a shit past doesn’t mean you are a shitty person. And honestly I think it’s kinda sweet that you still try to help her. Shows what kind of man you truly are.”

“Pppffft, and what is kind of man is that?” Eddie asks incredulously, “a sucker? A pushover?”

“No, a sweet one who deserves nothing but kindness, and this.” Standing up on your tiptoes you place your hand on his cheek and wet your lips, you gently press your lips to his.

You pull away gently but Eddie grabs your waist and deepens the kiss, hands traveling up your body and into your hair. He pulls away and murmurs into your ear, “told ya I’d bring the sugar.”

Taglist: @boomhauer @sidthedollface2 @b-irock @creoleguurl @tlclick73 @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @emxxblog @jadequeen88 @edsforehead @quinnsgrapejuice @idkidknemore @bebe0701 @mandyjo8719 @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes @e0509 @itsasilentreader @adequate-superstar @bpj519 @eddiemunsons-world @aysheashea @chonkzombie @vecnuthy

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x y/n fluff #eddie x y/n smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie fanfiction #eddie fan fic #modern eddie munson #eddie munson modern #modern au #mechanic!eddie

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winter-leftovers · 3 months

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Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter twenty one: Coming Back (21/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Y/n recovers her memory. The search for the staff of avalon begins

Word count: 1661

Warnings: No

(Season 3 Episodes 6, 7)

Song?: Mother Stands For Comfort by Kate Bush

Previous - Next

Masterlist

Y/n holded the doorknob to the backdoor of her house until she felt her hot hand would melt the metal under it. After spending a couple days away in a remote part of the woods her memory came back.

Amongst the trees and the darkness, the old spell lifted, allowing all the old memories wash over her like water breaking through a dam. She could finally recall who she really was and why she was there in Arcadia, in the Lake’s home or at least why she thought her father would want her there: to help the first human trollhunter to fulfill his destiny.

All the pieces of her life came back and laid to rest in their designated place, all except one: the night she strayed from her old life to found herself in Arcadia as a child in Barbara’s arms. That rainy night is still foggy in her mind.

Finally, Y/n opened the door to an empty kitchen but to a full living room. Claire’s parents and Toby’s grandmother were sitting on the couch talking with Barbara.

She sighed, relieved, she hadn't figured out what she was going to tell her family about what she uncovered in the last couple of months and more people around could buy her a little more time.

“Hi,” she smiled, quickly walking to the stairs “I don’t want to get too close, I've been camping” Y/n chuckled.

Barbara walked up to her daughter before she could run upstairs.

“You don’t have to lie anymore. I remembered everything. I even put Claire’s and Toby’s parents up to speed” Barbara laughed.

“I’m not lying! You can smell my hair” Y/n smiled.

Barbara looked at her daughter. She could sense something about her was different but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Barbara always could read her daughter like the palm of her hand

“Something’s off” she frowned and grabbed her hand.

Y/n looked at her mother’s eyes, the only mother she ever had and gave her a genuine smile “I promise I’ll explain. Just not right now” she looked back at their guests.

Barbara nodded and squeezed her daughter’s hand

“You know that I’m always here, right, sweetie?”

Y/n nodded and let go of her mother’s hand to run upstairs to take a shower.

“I wasn’t finished. That’s deranged!” Blinky’s screams echoed through the hallway.

Y/n slowly opened Jim’s door and poked her head through it. The whole gang was there except for Aaarrrgghh with the new addition, Dictatious.

“You’re saying Jim should destroy his amulet ‘cause you think you saw some old man put a map inside of it?” Toby sounded like he was going to lose his mind.

“It was Merlin” insistes Claire “The key to finding his tomb, to finding his staff, is inside his amulet”

‘Yeah, that’s him’ though Y/n.

“The girl-child may be on to something. The amulet and the staff are connected” said Dictatious.

“Both fueled by the magic of Merlin” said Blinky.

“But if Jim breaks his amulet, he can’t armor up! And if he can’t armor up ‘Goodbye, Eclipse Blade!’ How’s he supposed to kill Gunmar?” Screamed Toby in desperation.

“If we don’t get the staff first, none of that will matter anyway” said Claire

“Maybe I don’t have to destroy the amulet. You said Gunmar has Aaarrrgghh captive?” Jim looked at Dictatious.

Y/n frowned.

“And Aaarrrgghh could be used as an emotional anchor” said Blinky.

“We’d portal jump right to him” said Claire.

“The plan is set. We save Aaarrrgghh and stop Gunmar by any means necessary before he acquires the staff”

“What’s going on?” Y/n entered the room.

“Y/n?” The kids screamed in unison.

“Who is that…?” Asked Dictatious

“Shh” Blinky hit his brother on the head “Y/n, where have you been?”

“Where’ve you been?” Jim hugged his sister tight.

“Yeah, I’ve been texting, I needed…ughh” Toby hugged her and took a step back “You smell awful”

“I miss you too but…Toby is right” Claire grabbed her free hand.

“I was in the woods. Doing some…spiritual work. It's a long story and from what I heard we don’t have time” Y/n scratched Jim's hair that was still hugging her.

“We really do not have any time” said Blinky.

“Do we have time to explain the new accent?” Toby lifted a brow.

“What?”

“You’re madonna-ing”

“I’m not. Shut up” Y/n frowned. Her memories had brought her accent back?

—

After taking a quick shower, Y/n came downstairs as the trollhunter team were saying their goodbyes.

“I’m coming with” Y/n announced “I’m not letting Blinky unsupervised”

Jim and Toby laughed.

Y/n hugged Barbara tight. Y/n whispered in her mother’s ear

“You’re the best mother I could ever have”

She quickly stood behind Claire before the tears started rolling.

“Part of the spiritual trip?” Jim smiled.

“Something like that” Y/n smiled back.

The five of them jumped through the portal to a dark ruin quickly finding Aaarrrgghh in a stasis trap.

“The work of Angor Rot” observed Blinky.

“Uhm, those are Dwarkstones. If we deactivate the stasis, this place is gonna blow” said Claire.

“Aaarrrgghh, my friend, they’ve used you as bait to kill us” screamed Blinky.

Aaarrrgghh groaned.

“We gotta get him out of there!” Screamed Toby in desperation.

“No, Wingman. You leave” said Aaarrrgghh

“No, we’re not giving up”

“Guys, I’ve got an idea!” said Jim.

Everyone turned to Jim.

“Okay. Toby drops the hammer, we drop into the room below” he points to the ground.

“The hammer’s power and weight might be enough to override the stasis trap or it’ll fail, Toby will disintegrate into nothingness, and we’ll die with the explosion” Blinky explained.

“Cool beans” said Toby.

“Charming” Y/n pated the trolls back.

“Even if it works, what if we drop into something worse?” Asked Claire, fear written all over her face.

“Than this? I’ll take my chances. Tobes, are you ready?” Jim crouched down.

“Ready to possibly kill us all and die in failure? Yeah” he took a deep breath before start running “For Aaarrrgghh”

Jim pushed Toby into the air, giving the hammer enough strength to break the floor and destroying the trap, making the team fall into a dark tunnel of nothingness.

Y/n felt her knees hit the hard floor, she looked up and saw Aaarrrgghh covering them from the rest of the debri falling from the trap.

“Is everyone alright?” Y/n asked once the rain of stones stopped falling.

Jim draw daylight to illuminate the dark room.

“Wingman” Toby threw himself to Aaarrrgghh.

“Wingman” Aaarrrgghh quickly reciprocated the hug.

The group laughed and followed the two, for a moment forgetting where they were.

“What is this place?” Blinky asked

“Smells old” Aaarrrgghh sniffed the humid air.

“Ah!” Toby tried to take a step forward, almost falling into the abyss.

“Remarkable” Blinky looked down “An ancient gyre”

The team went down to investigate the old artifact.

“Why would there be a gyre here?” Jim got into the gyre.

“It doesn’t even have controls” observed Blinky.

Y/n observed the cave with the help of little light that was able to shine through the broken ceiling. She walked around the gyre with a small smile on her face. Of course. She finally recognised the place. It was Douxie’s and her longest task.

“If I break the amulet it will lead us to Merlin’s tomb” Jim said.

Y/n stopped walking through the dark and dusty room, she turned her head back to the sound of her brother’s voice. She ran to the stairs and up to the gyre and saw Jim hit the amulet with Toby’s hammer.

For an instant, a blue light illuminated the room then disappeared as quickly as it came revealing the destroyed pieces of Merlin’s amulet.

Jim kneeled in front of the stone where the pieces rested and picked them up one by one

“No turning back now” he said.

“No turning back” Y/n whispered to herself, as she played with her bracelet.

She felt her stomach turn. She knew from the moment that she crossed that portal that there was no turning back but now, that notion is final. Her old and new life were going to crash and she wasn’t sure how that was going to go. She was nervous. She hasn’t seen her father in nine hundred years and she hasn’t told her friends about her identity yet.

Jim put the blue stone where the controls of the gyre should be and a warm blue light surrounded them, the gyre starting its travel.

Y/n started to breathe a little better as she felt Douxie’s old magic all around.

“If this is fate, I really hope we’re not destined to die” screamed Toby, grabbing Y/n’s hand as the machine started to gain speed.

—

“Whoa, a hidden entrance” Jim smiled as they crossed the waterfall.

“Yeah, but to where?” Claire walked close behind the trollhunter.

Y/n took a couple steps forward when she saw Toby starting to struggle with his war hammer. She didn’t want to be behind him when the ‘no-magic’ spell got to him.

“Why no war hammer magic?” Toby complained as the artifact fell to the floor.

“No magic here” Blinky translated the sign on top of the door “It appears this hallowed tomb is warded against sorcery”

“My shadow staff doesn’t work either” Claire tried to use her staff in vain.

“Hey, what’s that?” Y/n pointed behind the girl at the giant claw marks that shouldn't be there.

“These claw marks look fresh” observed Claire.

“Hmm. Yes, yes.” Blinky got closer “As if…a struggle”

“Draal” Aaarrrgghh said.

Y/n turned back and saw the troll holding a chain “There's no magic here. He’s free”

“Then we’re not just here for the staff. We can save Draal” Jim smiled at the idea of recovering their friend.

A/n: we’re getting closer to the part that inspired the series!!! Also!!! I fucking!!! Hate!!!! Summer!!!

Remember that reviews, love letters and death threats are always appreciated 💖

#tales of arcadia #douxie x reader #douxie #toa #trollhunters #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux x reader #my writing #Til The End Of Eternity

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formula1fanfiction · 5 months

Text

Logan Sargeant / Oscar Piastri

Title: First heat

Pairing: Logan Sargeant / Oscar Piastri

Characters: Logan Sargeant, Oscar Piastri

Prompt: Logan thought he was a Beta at least until his first heat arrives.

rating: 18+

A/N: This is part 7 of the ABO series, this can be read as a stand alone story but you can find Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 part 4 Part 5 part 6 here. :)

Logan's in the Williams garage with Alex and a few other members going through the statistics for the next race. He can barely concentrate though, it's getting extremely hot in here, sweat is pooling off his face.

"Logan are you okay?" Alex says from somewhere, Logan shivers despite how sweaty he is. The alpha scent is a lot stronger than normal in here, it's something he's never really noticed before. "Logan?" Alex says again, it's only then he realised he'd never responded to his teammate.

"Yeah, i'm just really hot. I must have a fever or something." Alex smiles at him it's laced with pity. Alex touches his forehead with the back of his hand, it sends shockwaves through his body, he mewls somewhat embarrassingly at the contact. Why is he acting like this?

"You're a Beta right Logan?" Of course he is, that's what he was a teenager and he's never had heats, ruts or anything like that. He's just getting sick that's all. Logan can only manage a nod as another wave washes over, this time he feels something wet leaking from his arse.

"I think you're an omega Logan." Alex says gently, he takes a step back, keeping a good distance from him. "I'm a beta." He protests weakly, he can't be an omega. Logan watches over Alex's shoulder as James walks over. "I can smell it too Logan, you must be a late bloomer."

"I can't be..." He doesn't know why he's still protesting, his body is screaming at him to submit to Alex or James, his cock is rock hard and his arse is leaking like a fucking tap. How fucking embarrassing, it's a good thing the two alpha's have kept a good distance because Logan wants to beg them to fuck him.

"Why don't you just go back to your hotel room. We'll talk when you feel better." Logan practically runs away, before his instincts make him do something he'll regret.

As soon as he's back in his hotel room, he strips off his clothes with such fury they are sure to be torn. It's only then he starts to cry, what the fuck does he do now? He goes through the other omega's on the grid, Pierre, Charles, Lando, George. None of them would ever give him the time of day. All he wants is a fucking knot.

In the end he calls Oscar. "I need your help." The crying is so obvious in his voice, he hears the Australian gasp on the other end of the phone. "Tell me what's wrong?" Logan wipes his tears away with the back of his hand. "I came into heat." Oscar agrees to come over straight away and luckily he doesn't have to wait too long to hear the knock at the door.

"I thought you were a beta." Oscar looks a very naked Logan up and down and takes a deep breath. "Logan before you let me in you know what's going to happen right?" Logan knows exactly what's going to happen, he needs it. "If it means you're going to fuck me, the yes please. Oscar doesn't move and it's torture having an alpha this close doing nothing. "Logan think about this, are you sure because i'm finding it pretty hard to hold myself back."

"Fuck me, please." That's all it takes for Oscar to be all over him, kissing and biting at every exposed piece of skin as he's pushed back onto the bed. "Fuck Logi, you smell so fucking good." Oscar smashes his lips against Logan's its full of teeth and tongue, Logan is struggling to keep up. There must be a puddle of slick underneath Logan.

Oscar please, I can't take it anymore. Please, please, please." Oscar takes pity on him and helps him onto his hands and knees. "Don't worry baby, i'll help you, I promise." Oscar sinks three fingers into the wet heat to test how open the American is. "You're my first, can't promise i'll be any good." Logan is just happy to hear he's not the only one losing his virginity.

Finally fucking finally Oscar starts sinking into him, his strong hands holding Logan's hips for leverage. Logan feels like he's on fire, he's no idea if it's pleasure or just the heat talking. It feels so good exactly what Logan needs. "Oscar, please." Logan doesn't even know what he's begging for but Oscar understands him. "Shh baby, I got you."

"Move, please." Logan whines, pushing back on Oscar's cock. The Aussie growls loudly an does start to move, slowly at first but soon works his way up to quick hard pace. Each hard thrust into his body feels even better than the last one. Logan's body sighs with relief at being stuffed full with cock.

"Fuck Logi, can't tell you how long i've wanted you for." Oscar catches Logan's prostate, the American can barely get anything out other than loud moans as Oscar slams into over and over again. "Even when I thought you were a beta." Logan feel Oscar's knot start to form, he really can't wait for it.

Oscar must be close now, he's slamming into Logan with such a brutal pace that the bed shakes along with them. "I'll make you feel good baby." Oscar's lips are on his ear as he wraps his fist around Logan's cock stroking him to the same pace as his thrusts. Logan's body is so over whelmed with pure red hot pleasure he doesn't last much longer. He screams Oscar's name over and over again as he comes over his fist.

"Beautiful little omega." Oscar plants a kiss onto Logan's temple as he thrusts into him impossibly fast, his knot swelling bigger and bigger with every thrust. Logan cries out underneath him, his own clenching down around the knot. His knot finally catches and Logan's stuffed full of Oscar, just like he wanted.

Oscar rearranges them until they are in a spooning position. He keeps pressing little kisses on the back of Logan's sweaty neck until his knot finally pops and Logan is filled up with the warmth of his seed.

"I don't know much about heats but I think you'll need to go again soon, i'll help you through it. I promise." Logan can barely hear him, his eyes are already closing, ready for sleep.

#logan sargeant #oscar piastri #formula 1 fanfiction #fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #mxm #fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #mxm smut

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unreadpoppy · 2 months

Text

Wash My Dreams Away - Chapter 7

Halsin x Gwen (Tav) / Raphael x Gwen (Tav) on the side

Read on AO3

Chapter 6

A/N: Dream sequences are back baby. Also, Raphael is a menace. (also i finally get to use this damn picture)

Gwendolyn was in a garden. The place was illuminated by a few torches, and she could see that the sky was clear, the moon shining bright. Looking down at herself, she wore the same blue gown, with an off the shoulder sweetheart neckline, puffy shoulders and long sleeves. Most of her hair was down, as she felt it brushing on her back.

Picking up her skirts, she walked around, looking at the different flowers. There were tulips, poppies, and some of her favorites like magnolias and forget-me-nots. In the distance, she noticed a bush of white roses, and walking towards it, she gently picked up one, sighing at the scent. While still holding the flower, she felt something nudging her shoe. Looking down, Gwendolyn saw a fox.

“Oh, hello.” She said, crouching down to take a better look at the animal. It looked at her for a moment and then ran away. “Wait!” Gwen shouted, standing up and running after the fox.

Eventually, she lost sight of it but found herself near a fountain. Raising her skirts, she knelt beside it, looking at her reflection in the water. There were no circles in her eyes, her skin looked refreshed and she wore minimal makeup. She put her hand in the water, watching her reflection.

She smiled at it, at first, but her face soon fell when the water stilled again and besides her, was Raphael. Taken aback, she looked around and noticed she was alone. He appeared only in the water, next to her own reflection.

With cherry red skin, four horns and a devilish smile, Raphael’s reflection said “Hello, little butterfly.” He said, curling a lock of her hair around his fingers and bringing it close to his nose, smelling it. “It has been a long time since you were last here.”

Gwen moved her head away from him. “It’s been a long time since I last slept.” She explained, squinting her eyes. “Although, I have a suspicion you have something to do with that?”

“I have told you all that I know.” He chuckled. “I have no control over dreams, or sleep, now…” She saw him moving and appearing behind her, his breath tickling the back of her ear. She felt goosebumps as he moved her hair to the side. “If you were troubled after my last visit then… I fail to see how that concerns me, dearest.” Raphael kissed the back of her exposed neck.

Gwen turned around again, seeing nothing, only the faint sound of his laughter hanging in the air. She groaned “Stop these tricks and show yourself.”

“As you wish.” She heard him say, and soon, Raphael appeared a few feet from where she sat, one arm bent at the waist, the other spreading out as he bowed. This time, the devil was dressed mostly in red.

Quickly, Gwendolyn stood up as he marched forwards to her, offering an arm. “Walk with me.”

She raised a brow. “Will you give me answers?”

Raphael shrugged. “You’ll only know if you accompany me.” Gwen sighed, and grabbed his arms, allowing him to lead the way.

He took her through a different path, and more flowers appeared. Oleanders, nightshades and foxgloves were the few that the tiefling could identify, although she was more focused on where the devil was taking her. It appeared that they had entered a maze of sorts, as she noticed the giant walls of green around them. Gwen gulped and inched closer to him, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

Raphael chuckled. “Dreams are quite an interesting thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her brows furrowed at his question. “I would, if you hadn't told me otherwise a few weeks ago. I mean, you were the one that said they were meaningless.”

“A devil can change his mind, can he not?” He stopped walking and turned to her. “In truth, dreams are a reflection of oneself.” Raphael got closer to her, causing the tiefling to take a step backwards. “They can show parts of our day, relive old memories or glimpses of the future, torment us with our biggest nightmares.”

Gwendolyn’s back hit one of the walls, feeling her dress get caught in it. She raised her hands to try and pry herself off of it, but she felt vines wrap itself around her wrists, pulling her further into the walls, trapping her there. Gwen’s hands were pinned next to her head, and her heart raced as Raphael stepped closer and closer.

“But the most important thing is that dreams show us our deepest wishes…our deepest desires.” Raphael whispered, his body inches from hers.

“You confuse me.” Gwendolyn breathed out. “You brush me aside, tell me that this means nothing. Now you come here, with all this talk of dreams and desires.” She chuckled nervously. “It’s-it’s like you’re trying to charm me or something.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He raised a brow. “I know what you told the druid, about your feelings towards me.” He trailed one long nail from her cheek down to her cleavage, smirking as she shivered.

“How…how do you know that?”

Raphael smirked, his eyes darkening. “I am the devil, dear. I know everything.” She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks as he momentarily looked down at her lips. “I know how you want to be desired, how you want to be seduced. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll provide just that.”

Gwen struggled weakly against the vines, but that only made its grip on her wrists tighten. “Raphael…” she whispered. Gwen looked in his eyes, feeling like a fly caught in a spider’s web.

“Shh… there’s no need to fight.” The devil said, wrapping a loose strand of her hair around his finger, inching closer to her. The more she looked at him, deeper into his trap she fell. “Be honest with yourself.” He whispered in her ear, body pressing close to hers. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…” Gwendolyn gulped, conflicted. She knew this was wrong, that this whole situation was strange. But would it be too bad to indulge? For once, to give in to what she wanted? Besides, this was just a dream, right?

“Say it.” He demanded, breath tickling on her ear.

“I-I want you.” Gwen breathed out. “I want you, Raphael.”

In an instant, his mouth was on hers, his hands holding her face. When she gasped, he pushed his tongue through. He was dominating and strong, and there was nothing Gwen could do to stop him.

Like a moth is drawn to a flame, even if it would only burn her in the end, she couldn’t stop herself from being attracted to it - to him, to wanting him, to even…liking him. When he let go, she let out a whine as he smirked. His kiss was like a poison she wanted to drink more of.

…

Halsin pressed a damp rag to Gwendolyn’s face, trying to help cool her down. After her days long insomnia, she fell into a deep sleep. A full day had passed, and she showed no signs of stirring up and now, she was burning up with a fever.

Both him and Shadowheart had tried using their healing magic, but nothing worked, and so, the druid resorted to natural means. They had moved her to the tent he shared with Minthara, since it was the biggest one at camp and because he would keep a better eye on her, with his materials nearby.

It had been Lae’zel’s idea, to keep up with their search for a way to end Ketheric’s invulnerability while Gwen slept. Halsin had agreed, stating that it would have been what she wanted - for the others not to stall because of her.

Halsin had decided to stay behind as well, in an attempt to try and bring his friend back. He had his suspicions that whatever liquid was in that vial was the reason for this, but with no way of contacting the devil, Halsin could only do his best and hope that she would pull through.

Halsin sat down next to her, noticing the owlbear cub and Scratch curled up by her feet. Just like, they hadn’t left her side. He grabbed one of her shivering hands and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to her knuckles. Still holding it, he murmured a small prayer to the Oak Father, asking for strength. After that, he wiped a strand of her from her forehead, he said “Come back to us, Gwen. We need you.” Halsin paused, and whispered “I need you.”

#halsin bg3 #raphael bg3 #halsin baldur's gate 3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #halsin x tav #raphael x tav #oc: gwendolyn gray #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my writing

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karatekels · 7 months

Text

Fresh Start - Day 13 (Part 2)

Sorry for the delay everyone! I'm (mostly) recovered from my cold and Day 13 (Part 3) is already half written, so I'm hoping it's out today or tomorrow! We're quickly coming to the end of this fic, but I hope you've enjoyed it so far.

Previous Parts:

TW: Smut; oral sex (male and female receiving); teasing; dirty talk

---

Day 13 - Morning

Waking up the next morning, the memories of the night before run through your mind before you even open your eyes. Part of you can’t believe that last night was real; rolling onto your side and feeling a pleasant ache between your legs, you are reminded that it most definitely was.

You take a deep breath, your pillowcase smelling like Terry, and sigh happily before rolling over to cuddle your lover. Disappointingly, you see he isn’t in the bed with you, taking in the rumpled sheets on his side of the bed with a frown. Looking around, you see that both the bathroom and closet doors are open, and your bags have been brought in, set just inside the room; you presume he will be back soon.

Sliding out from beneath the sheets, you walk over to your suitcase, fishing out your toiletry bag and heading into the bathroom. Like everything else in Terry’s house, the ensuite was huge and opulent, but still comfortable. You brush your teeth, leaning back against the bathroom counter and looking from the bathtub to the shower, trying to decide which you’d prefer trying out. The shower made more sense to wash your hair, and maybe you could try out the tub with Terry later…

Smiling to yourself, you turn to spit in the sink and rinse your mouth when something catches your eye in the mirror. You look down, confirming that all the love bites you’d just seen in your reflection are really there with a gasp. You put your toothbrush down on the counter and run to the floor-length mirror you’d seen in the bedroom the night before.

You are covered in marks all across your breasts, up your collarbone to the sides of your neck. You couldn’t even count them all. You don’t think you’ve had a hickey in over a decade! Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but you’re also oddly… aroused? You would’ve thought that you’d be upset, but these just make you think back on the night of passionate love-making that you’d had with Terry, dirty little reminders of what you’d done together.

You hear the bedroom door open behind you, and bite your lip to keep back a giggle.

“Y/N, you’re awake! I was just coming to –”

“You’d better be here to explain yourself, Terry Silver.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks with concern, and you whirl around with your hands on your hips, glaring at him, trying not to smile. He takes in the hickeys dotting your torso, his lips curving into a very self-satisfied smirk.

“Well?” you ask impatiently, trying not to be distracted but how good he looks in nothing but a red silk robe. “How did this happen? When did you even do this?!”

“I believe most of it was while I had you… wrapped around my finger?” he teases, and your blush comes back in full force as you scowl at him.

“I look like a damn dalmatian, Terry!” you grumble, ignoring his innuendo.

“I quite like it,” he comments smugly. “Think of them as reasons to stay,” he suggests in a low, attractive voice, echoing the phrase you used to seduce him last night.

“Oh, aren’t you clever,” you snap at him, sticking out your tongue. He grins at you, completely unabashed by his actions and your response.

“I can’t remember the last time someone made me feel like a hormonal teenager; I couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t think you can get out of this with flattery, Terrance,” you say huffily, narrowing your eyes at him as you walk past, though inside you’re nearly giddy at the thought that he had enjoyed last night as much as you had. “You will pay for this.”

You stalk past him into the bathroom, closing the door behind you to muffle his laughter. Trying to keep your own giggles down, you head over to the shower to turn it on, scouring the room looking for towels as you wait for the water to heat up. Gathering the needed bottles from your toiletry bag, you place the towels just outside of the shower door and slip inside.

The water pressure from the shower head is amazing, and you feel your muscles relax under the hot water. Whether it was because you hadn’t had sex in the months since your break-up, or just from Terry’s size and… thoroughness, you were definitely aching more than you normally would the morning after.

Lathering up your hair with your shampoo, you close your eyes, trying to relive the memories of the night before. Never in your life had you even imagined that sex could be that good. And it wasn’t just the sex itself; every one of his touches, his words, the way he looked at you, all of it had been so erotic, so intimate… you feel like you finally know the difference between just fucking and making love.

Rinsing your hair, you hum happily to yourself, picturing Terry’s hands on you despite knowing that you aren’t doing the experience justice. Perhaps you could convince him to give you a reminder…

“You have a lovely voice.”

“ARGH!” you scream, whirling around and blindly swinging your fist. Terry catches it in his hand easily, looking briefly surprised at your reaction before kissing your knuckles.

“You’re awfully jumpy.”

“How the hell did you sneak in here, Terry?! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you exclaim, trying to calm your racing heart. It was a difficult task to achieve, seeing as you are currently faced with the sight of a naked, wet Terry, and you bite your lip, forcing yourself to turn around and grab the soap off the shelf carved into the tiled wall. It smells like Terry, and you feel the urge to scrub it all over your body. Terry seems to be thinking along similar lines, snatching it out of your hand.

Before you can turn to tell him off, he is lathering your breasts with soapy hands gliding across your skin, and your complaints turn into soft moans. He tugs you back slightly, and you lean against his chest, feeling his cock twitch against you as he starts to get hard.

“Why so wound up, sweetheart?” he asks patronizingly, teasing your nipples until you’re grinding back against him. “I thought I had worn you out last night, but based on the look on your face when I snuck in here, you’re already wanting more, isn’t that right?”

One hand slides down your stomach and through the closely cropped curls between your legs. Curling a long finger into you, Terry finds you slick with arousal. You feel him smile against your shoulder, immediately setting a steady pace with his finger, bringing another above it to play with your clit.

“Unh, Terry!” you whine, grinding against him. The ways this man could make you feel better than you ever had in your life…

But no, he had been in control more than enough last night, and there were still things you wanted to do that you couldn’t do in here. Forcing yourself to remain in control, you slip away from him and out the shower door before he can stop you.

“I wasn’t done with you,” Terry protests through the foggy glass as you wrap your hair up in a towel. “Get back in here.”

“I’m not done with you either, darling,” you respond as you towel yourself off quickly, teasing him with the petname. “I have plans for you that require more space and less water.”

You spot a red silk robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and throw it on, swimming in the fabric as you escape to the bedroom, giggling to yourself. You snag a pillow off the bed and run to hide behind the mirror once you hear the water turn off.

He emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist, looking around the room with amusement when you aren’t immediately visible. He looks for you on the other side of the bed before turning to head into the closet, at which point you spring out from your hiding place and go to bat him with the pillow.

He has you on your back on the bed before you even realize he’s dodged the pillow, and looks down at you intently. How did he move so fast?

“I was looking for that,” he says pointedly, eyeing his robe as it slips off one of your shoulders. “Stealing from me now, are you?”

“Oops?” you chirp up at him, completely unapologetic.

“I can see my lesson on manners didn’t stick,” he comments with a sigh, stepping further into your personal space. “I guess I’ll have to be a bit firmer with my instruction this time…” he continues, and you feel a hand slip under the robe to caress your thigh. Your mouth goes dry, your body immediately responding to his touch.

“I quite like you making yourself at home here,” he continues casually as his fingers move up one thigh, past your hip to your belly button before trailing down your other leg. “Even if it means you getting your greedy little paws all over my things. Provided, of course, you allow me to take the same liberties with you…”

His hand draws smaller and smaller circles as he speaks, refusing to touch you where you need him to.

“No.”

His hand stops.

“No?” he questions, and you force yourself to sit up and slide off the bed, turning around to face him with your hands on your hips, determined to regain control of the situation… if you’d ever had control in the first place. Terry, amused by your posturing, turns and sits on the edge of the bed to listen, pointedly letting the towel fall from around his hips. You stubbornly lift your chin and keep your eyes on his face, though you feel the blush creeping up your neck.

“You’ve ruined all my plans, you know. I was hoping I’d wake up first,” you tell him petulantly; it was hard to appear intimidating in a robe far too large for you.

“And why is that?” he asks complacently, looking down at you with a smirk. Quick as a flash, you reach down, taking his cock in hand and stroking it lazily. He hisses through his teeth, snatching you up and pulling you onto the bed, moving himself to fully lay on the bed. You look at him with exasperation as he takes control again. It wasn’t fair that he was so much bigger and stronger…

“Oh, by all means, keep going,” he insists, seeing your grumpy expression. “I just want to watch,” he adds cheekily, folding his arms behind his head as he leans against the headboard, a smug smile on his face. You roll your eyes at him and he chuckles at you, his laughter immediately turning into a whimpering groan as you suddenly take one of his balls in your mouth, sucking gently as you wrap your hand around him again, feeling him getting hard. He tastes like pure sin.

“What was that?” you ask innocently, cocking your head to the side, still stroking his length with one hand. He looks dazed from the sensation, his eyes darkening almost to black, and you do it again, toying with him with your tongue. His upper lip curls as he growls, and one hand reaches down to tangle tightly in your hair. “Are you alright, baby? Should I stop?” you ask teasingly.

“If you stop now, Y/N, I’m going to lose my mind.” His voice is hoarse in its desperation, and you find it incredibly sexy, resisting the urge to touch yourself. This was about you being in control and pleasing him.

“My plan is for that to happen either way, Terry,” you reply, slowly licking his cock from the base to the tip with the tiniest touch of your tongue, your eyes locked with his. “Now, why don’t you show me what good manners look like, hmm?” you ask with a wicked smile, your lips poised to take him in your mouth.

The look he gives you is a mix of emotions, but he seems to have settled on grudging admiration as you take his words and use them against him, one side of his mouth curled up in a smirk even as he looks down at you with need.

“Is this really a game you want to play with me?” he asks you softly, his voice dangerous. You respond by giving the head of his cock a firm, wet lick of your tongue that makes him buck his hips towards you. “Christ. Please, Y/N,” he groans, and your grin widens as you watch his self-control crumble.

“Please whaaat?” you tease in a singsong voice. He gives you a withering look, but the effect is greatly lessened by the way he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.

“Please put those beautiful lips around my cock, love. I need to feel you.”

Your pussy throbs with need at his words and you barely keep back a moan. You look into his eyes and see a mischievous twinkle, and realize that he is fully aware of the effect his words are having on you. Smug bastard… you would not let him get the best of you this time.

In one fluid motion, you take half his cock into your mouth, wriggling your tongue along the underside, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction at the deep moan he lets out. You bob your head up and down, gradually taking more of him into your mouth and throat, swirling your tongue around him and trying your best to keep your eyes on his face; his reactions were incredibly sexy.

The closer he gets, though, the more determined he seems to be to take you down with him, dirty words spilling from his lips along with his moans as his grip on your hair tightens and he thrusts his hips up to meet you.

“That’s it, babygirl,” he coos, though his voice has a harsh edge to it. “Put that mouth to work, just like that.” You moan around him in response and he hisses in pleasure. “Such a dirty girl, getting off on sucking my cock. Are you going to come before I do, Y/N? Come for me with my cock in your mo–” Terry’s smutty words turn into a loud groan as you take him fully down your throat. Good. Serves him right, the smug, dirty-talking bastard, teasing you when he was meant to be letting you have your way with him.

He stares down at you with glittering eyes, his mouth slightly open as he watches you deepthroat him. Your own eyes start to water but you stay put, letting your throat convulse around him while he moans.

“Fucking hell, Y/N! I’m going to come, baby,” he warns you, fighting to keep his eyes from clenching shut. You slowly release his cock from your mouth, replacing it with your hand for a moment while you catch your breath before sucking him again, swirling your tongue around him and bringing him to his peak, swallowing his cum as he grunts with his release.

Licking your swollen lips, you take in the sight of Terry post-orgasm, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, a slight smile twisting his lips. Perfectly vulnerable.

You crawl up the bed and straddle him, sitting on his lap and immediately latching onto a soft spot where his neck meets his shoulder. You nibble and suck for a long moment, hearing him hiss in a breath as his hands remove his robe from around you before he wraps around your hips. He was certainly being well-behaved…

You lean back for a moment, surveying your work, pleased with the large hickey you’ve left on him. It didn’t compare to the dozen or so he’d marked you with, but it was the principle of the thing. Satisfied, you sit back, looking into his eyes.

“Proud of yourself?” he asks, lips quirked, his eyes darting in the direction of the love bite. You give him a cheeky grin in reply, feeling victorious.

“Are you done?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, and you nod.

“Good.”

In a move far too quick for you to fully process, Terry lunges forward, pushing you onto your back, your head at the foot of the bed. He’s taken the silk tie off of the robe you were wearing, and quickly binds your hands together over your head before securing them to the bedpost. You glare up at him, though you’re sure it’s far from intimidating.

“I did tell you I would be prepared this time,” he says teasingly, looking quite pleased with himself. You scowl at him, your body twitching as he slowly traces patterns across your stomach with his fingers.

“So, what, you’re just never going to let me be in control?” you demand, pouting. “That’s sooo unfair!”

“On the contrary, my dear,” Terry murmurs, leaning down to kiss you deeply, stroking your sides softly. You initially try to resist, but he is far too tempting, and you quickly find yourself laying back obediently against the sheets, kissing him back as passionately as you could from your position. Letting you up for air, Terry’s lips move slowly down your neck, making you arch up against him with a gasp.

“You still fail to realize the extent of the hold you have on me,” he continues, teasing your nipples with his tongue and making it very, very difficult to actually string together what he’s saying.

“T-Terry,” you stutter, squirming against the sheets, his hair tickling your chest as his head moves further down your body, tongue swirling around your bellybutton.

“I frequently find myself completely at your mercy,” he goes on as though you haven’t spoken, sliding between your legs, which you part willingly for him. You were so wet…

“I fully plan to give you everything, sweetheart,” Terry croons, kissing along your inner thigh even as he pins your legs and hips down with his strong arms. Your head is spinning.

“So if, on occasion, I have to pin you down in one way or another so that I can be in control, I will do so without hesitation.” His words are vibrating against your entrance now, your thighs twitching at his proximity. “Now be a good girl, and let me taste you.”

His hands grip your hips firmly and he swipes his tongue up and down your entrance before latching onto your clit, eating you out like a man starved as you cry out in ecstasy. He thrusts his tongue inside you, moaning at your flavour as he presses himself closer still.

“Oh God, Terry! YES!” you cry out, thrashing against your restraints. You desperately want to run your fingers through his gorgeous hair and hold his head in place.

“That’s right, babygirl,” he growls, lifting his head to lock eyes with you with a wolfish grin, his mouth and chin shining with your juices. “Just lay back and enjoy, and let me drink you up.” He lunges forward again, and you grip his head with your thighs, grinding your hips against his lips and tongue desperately. He allows you to do this for a minute or so, panting against you and driving you wild, before pinning your hips to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“I love seeing you come apart for me, Y/N,” Terry purrs. “I know you’re close; come for me, honey, please.”

Him begging for your orgasm takes you over the edge, and you scream his name again and again as you come, his tongue remaining at your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you’re a shuddering, whimpering mess. Finally, he relents, and your legs collapse bonelessly onto the bed as you struggle to catch your breath. Terry comes up beside you, looking down at you, kissing you the instant he thinks you’ve had enough of a break.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” you say breathlessly once he lets you come up for air. He cocks his head to the side, looking up and down your body with a frown, eyes lingering at your bound hands. He shrugs.

“Hmm? No, I don’t think so,” he replies innocently, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Terry!” you whine, and he chuckles at you, moving to untie your wrists from the bedpost.

“Fine. I’d love to keep you here and give you more reasons to stay,” Terry says, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively and making you laugh. “But we do need to talk about things, and I know that I won’t be able to focus if we stay in bed all day.” He massages your arms as he speaks, helping your circulation and making the thought of your much-needed discussion slightly less intimidating, and you give him a small smile, standing up on your knees to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Maybe we could talk over breakfast?” you suggest, reluctantly slipping out of his arms and walking across the room to your suitcase. “Just let me get dressed and I can whip something up.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You freeze partway through picking out your clothes for the day.

“Oh no, your staff are here already?!” you squeak, turning bright red. “Did they hear us just now? Did they hear us last night?”

You whirl around to face him, still babbling in a panic, until Terry quiets you with an indignant look.

“First of all,” he begins imperiously, throwing his robe on and slipping the silk tie back through the loops to knot it around his waist, “I sent everyone home last night before I went after you. They won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” He stalks towards you, and you find yourself mildly intimidated, though you know he’s not really upset with you.

“Secondly,” he continues, rapidly closing the distance between you, and you find yourself backing away instinctively. “I meant that I would cook for you, silly girl. I do know how to take care of myself, you know,” he adds, arching an eyebrow at you, and you have the grace to blush.

“And lastly,” he says, trapping you in his arms and bending down to speak in your ear, “I fully intend to take you frequently when my staff are here, so you’d better get used to the idea, or plan on being gagged quite regularly.” He ends his speech by giving you a searing kiss that has your mind reeling, then winking at you before walking past you to the bedroom door.

“Now get dressed please, Y/N, and meet me downstairs for breakfast. We really don’t have time for all of your theatrics,” he teases as he makes his escape, leaving you to process things alone in his bedroom.

---

You find Terry in the kitchen around twenty minutes later, dressed in a comfortable but pretty summer dress. You were starving; it’s fairly late in the morning, and you hadn’t eaten much yesterday. The kitchen smells delicious, and Terry looks… incredibly attractive, even when acting all domestic, cooking breakfast in nothing but his robe. You lean against the wall for a moment, taking in the picture he makes with a smile.

“Enjoying the view?” he teases, not looking up from dicing fruit.

“Maaaaybe,” you reply, skipping over and hopping up on a barstool that sat beside the counter. You reach down to snag a slice of banana, but he swats your hand away, lightning quick. “Hey!”

“Patience, my dear,” he says, adding to the growing fruit salad in the bowl before you. “Or do I need to tie you down again?” You blush, and he smirks, turning to the frittata on the stove. You sneak a banana slice while his back is turned, feeling victorious. He places the frittata pan in the oven before turning to you. You take a moment to appreciate the way that his robe reveals a good portion of his chest.

“Can you behave yourself long enough for me to go get dressed?” he asks you sternly. “I can’t have you ogling me if we’re going to talk.”

“Well, that will likely happen regardless of what you’re wearing, but please, go get changed!” you reply sassily, shooing him away. “I’ll make sure the kitchen doesn’t burn down.” Staring at you coolly, he wordlessly picks up the bowl of fruit salad and easily places it on top of the fridge and out of your reach.

“Just in case you think I didn’t catch you stealing from me,” he murmurs, giving you a wide smile before leaving you alone in the kitchen. You make a huffy noise of discontent, and hear him chuckle from down the hallway.

You sigh deeply after a moment, trying to take in the fact that this could be your home, one day. You felt comfortable here already, and thought that that was a good thing, but still… you worry your lip between your teeth. You were going to have a serious discussion in a few minutes about your future, and you didn’t think you had any answers for the questions that Terry was bound to have for you. What did you want? What did you not want? How were you supposed to know? What if you made the wrong decision? This was all so overwhelming, and you hadn’t even gotten started yet!

“What a pleasant surprise, seeing you exactly where I left you for once,” Terry says from behind you, kissing you on the cheek as he walks past to take breakfast out of the oven… and off the top of the fridge. He serves you each a portion of frittata and a small bowl of fruit salad, sliding yours over to you. You nod in response to his question of coffee, and he sets it to brew before leaning against the counter beside you.

“Come back to me, Y/N,” he says softly, taking one of your hands in his own and stroking the back of it with his thumb. You blink slowly, looking up at him, and he kisses the worried crease between your eyebrows. “Please, don’t start worrying before we even start talking. Everything will be fine,” he says soothingly, stroking your cheek.

“It must be nice to always be so sure about everything,” you muse, trying to lighten the mood. He snorts, going to fetch coffee before taking a seat beside you.

“There are very few things I’m sure of, my dear,” he corrects you, pausing to take a sip of coffee. You mirror his actions, not wanting to be chastised for not eating. “You just happen to be one of them, so of course it would appear that way to you.” You melt a bit at his words, but your tension rises again as you see that he’s slid a notepad and a pen towards himself on the counter.

“You’re planning to take notes?” you ask, feeling nervous. He gives you a patient smile, taking one of your hands again.

“Only because I want to be thorough with this,” he says gently. “If you’re anything like me, which I suspect you are, at least in this regard, then you’ll feel better once you can look at things once everything is out in the open. This isn’t a contract or anything, I promise.”

You take a deep breath, trying to nod with some degree of confidence. “Okay.”

“Do you want to eat first and worry about this later?” he suggests kindly, but you shake your head firmly.

“No, we should do this now. Maybe doing it while we eat will make it seem more like a conversation.”

“It is just a conversation, sweetheart. All I want to do is hear about your life and what you want, and then I’ll try to figure out how to fit myself into that picture,” he says with a wry smile.

“But what about you?” you grumble, spearing a blueberry with your fork.

“What about me?” he asks patiently, surveying you over his mug of coffee.

“Why doesn’t your life and what you want fit into the equation as much as mine?” you ask, cocking your head at him.

“My life is far more… malleable than yours, Y/N. The only thing that I want is you; everything else can be adjusted. You have much more of your life ahead of you, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice taking on a slight twinge of sadness. You immediately lean over and give him a brief but deep kiss, needing to banish that train of thought from the conversation immediately.

“Don’t talk like that, Terry Silver,” you order him, whispering fiercely against his lips. “And just because I have more to figure out than you do doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have the same say in the conversation as I do,” you continue, leaning back into your seat and cutting off a corner of your frittata.

“In fact, you should have more of a say, since you’re bringing all… this to the table,” you add, gesturing around to the house with your fork before bringing the mouthful to your lips. “This is good,” you say approvingly, digging into the meal with more gusto. Terry smiles at you, amused as always by your intense and quickly-changing moods.

“You need to stop devaluing yourself,” he tells you firmly. “You’re terrible at business negotiations.”

“Good thing this isn’t a business negotiation then,” you reply lightly, licking yogurt off of your spoon. Terry arches an eyebrow at you, and you sigh. “Alright, but you’ve clearly thought about this more than I have. I don’t even how to start thinking about this; help a girl out?” you ask, and while you can admit that you’re playing up the damsel in distress angle a bit, you do honestly want his help figuring this out.

“I have some questions that might help you organize your thoughts,” Terry admits, chuckling slightly when you perk up at the thought of having some direction. “But I don’t want to steer you in any direction one way or the other, Y/N. This is your life we’re talking about.”

“Our lives,” you correct him firmly, and he smiles indulgently at you.

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

“Will you answer the questions too?” you ask pointedly. He needed to value himself more, you think to yourself, looking up at him with affection.

“After you do,” he replies calmly. “And I will always be honest with you, Y/N.”

You consider the compromise over a few bites of food, and he gives you the time to think, digging into his own breakfast. After a minute or two, you nod at him, accepting the agreement.

“The first question is the most important, and it’s the hardest,” he says, his eyes tracking your movements as you tense up again. He leans over, kissing you until he feels you relax beneath him again. He tastes like strawberries.

“I think this will be easier if we take frequent breaks to make out,” you inform him seriously, your face still flushed from the kiss, and he laughs warmly at you.

“I’m sure I could get you to agree to all sorts of things that way,” he replies teasingly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, “but you need to think things over with a relatively clear head.”

“Fiiiine,” you whine, though you’re smiling. “Lay it on me, Mr. Silver.”

“I want you to think about what you’re feeling about all this, and try to figure out the roots of those feelings.”

You bite your lip, looking down at the counter. Terry takes your hand, and you give it a squeeze.

“I know it’s hard, just take your time,” he says encouragingly, and you nod, thinking.

“I’m feeling very scared and… overwhelmed, honestly,” you begin. “When I go back home, I’m not really sure what I’m going back to. Like I said, I kind of came here to reevaluate, gain some perspective… you ruined that plan, by the way,” you say teasingly, looking into his eyes for the first time since you’d started speaking. He preens a bit, making you giggle.

“I don’t have a job or anything to go back to, I quit before I came here. I have some interviews lined up over the next couple of weeks, but not for anything I’m really passionate about…” you shrug nonchalantly.

“I don’t feel particularly close to anyone there right now either.” Not compared to you anyway, you think to yourself. “I was never really a social butterfly, and a lot of my time was spent with my ex and our mutual friends, and I’m really sick of all of them looking at me like a kicked puppy.” You sigh, biting your lip. “I’m sure this is all great stuff to hear from the person you’re interested in,” you add sarcastically.

“Not tied down by anything or anyone, just begging to be whisked away? My kind of woman,” Terry replies teasingly, leering at you, and you giggle. He leans in to whisper in your ear. “And I think we’ve established that I’m far more than interested in you, haven’t we, love?”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and he rests his forehead for a moment on yours, staring deeply into your eyes.

“I guess that’s why this is all so overwhelming,” you confess, still close enough your noses are touching. “It would be so easy to just drop everything and move to L.A. and be with you, and that’s what makes it so scary. There’s nothing to hold me back…” your breathing hitches and your heartrate increases, and Terry leans back, giving you space to just feel.

“It’s crazy, moving across the country with nothing, and there would be so much to figure out so fast…” you continue after a moment, trying to maintain some composure. “What if I make a mistake?”

Terry strokes the side of your face comfortingly, and you close your eyes, leaning into the touch.

“Any better?” he murmurs, and you nod slightly without opening your eyes.

“A bit. Your turn?” you ask, looking at him pleadingly, and he nods.

“Eat while I talk,” he instructs, and you pick up your fork obediently, making him smile at you.

“This is incredibly overwhelming, Y/N, you’re not alone in thinking that. And while I obviously can’t share your concerns for a number of reasons, I hope I can help ease your worries no matter what decision you choose. If you want to stay back home for awhile, I will fly you out as often as you’d like. I’ll come visit you, I’ll buy a damn house there if that would help. The same goes for if you want to move here. If you want a place of your own, I’ll help you rent one, or buy you one, or move you right in here with me. Renovate the whole west wing of the third floor and call it your own, if you wish.”

“Now, I know that that’s a problem for you,” he says, as you go to interrupt him, pushing your fruit salad towards you and giving you a stern look. You scowl, taking another bite. “And I want to respect your independence and desires for your life. I know that you’re not comfortable with me using my money to solve your problems. So if you want a job here, I can and will open doors for you. I can give you a job at one of my own companies. If you never want to work again, that’s more than alright with me. Anything you need, Y/N… I’m there for you. Your whole life.”

Terry takes a casual sip of coffee after his confession, while you struggle to swallow your mouthful of fruit.

“But how are you so sure?” you protest once you manage to swallow. He smiles at you.

“Because I want to be,” he replies, as if that explained everything. “I want you, I feel oh so many feelings for you, and I want to plan for a future with you. I am in a fortunate position where I can and will move mountains to make that happen; you just have to tell me where to put them. I am happy to help you figure everything else out along the way, my dear. I plan on spoiling you as much as I possibly can, in whatever capacity you will allow me to. If that has to start in separate houses across the country or across town from each other, it makes no difference to me. As long as you’re mine,” he purrs possessively, gripping your chin firmly in one hand. You’re shaking like a leaf, something he notes with a self-deprecating smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m scaring you,” he says softly, releasing your face. “Tell me why, and I’ll fix it.”

“I just don’t understand why you’re willing to risk all of this on me,” you whisper, your voice breaking. You’re not even sure why your heart is clenching the way it is; the man you were crazy about had just told you that he would do anything and everything in his power to give you the exact life you wanted. All you had to do was choose.

He takes your face in hand once more, tilting your face up until you meet his eyes. You try your best not to tremble this time.

“Are you only interested in me for my money, Y/N?” he asks bluntly, and your jaw drops.

“What? No, Terry, of course not!”

“Would you still consider a relationship with me if I was just another middleclass man?”

“That would actually level the playing field between us a bit.”

He gives you a look, getting out of his chair and turning yours around, your back now to the counter. He comes to stand in front of you, leaning down and caging you in.

“People meet and fall in love in all sorts of circumstances, Y/N. When they stay together, they try to build the best life together that they can. It’s not your fault that I’ve had a few decades more than you, and a great deal of luck, that have allowed me to build up a life for both of us before I met you. We just get to skip the part where we struggle together.”

“And live happily ever after?” you tack on cheekily, trying to process his logic. This kind of thing didn’t happen in the real world, did it?

“Yes, if I get my way.”

“You usually do,” you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know about that,” he replies, gently tugging a lock of your hair. “You’ve been undermining me since I met you.”

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” you reason, looking up at him meaningfully. His blue eyes lock with yours, his mouth opening as he tries to find words.

“I don’t know just what I want yet,” you tell him firmly, wanting to be clear. “I just know that I want you. And I still have to go home first, but I don’t see the point in going back and forth and wasting all your money on pointless flights when we both know I’m going to end up here eventually–”

You had several other points to make, but Terry’s mouth on yours has them quickly slipping from your mind. He lifts you into his arms with ease, kissing you with a fierce joy that has your heart singing as he carries you to a couch in the living room. Negotiations were over, it would seem.

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Day 13-C | Day 14-A | Day 14-B | Day 14-C

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #cobra kai #smut #fresh start

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