#be earnest. be active. fuck it. we ball.

[agentmika]

2023

FUCK IT

WE BALL

[roanniom]

mutual masturbation w Eddie?

Your Hand

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, mutual masturbation, PIV sex / unprotected sex, overstimulation, teasing, switch energy, dirty talk

I feel like it would be your idea. You’re laying in bed and he gets handsy one day and just on a whim you’re like “ah ah ah, hands to yourself, big boy.”

And he mopes and pouts when you slide over onto your pillow, laying back and keeping yourself out of reach. That is until you start touching yourself and oh my lord the groans coming out of this man. It’s like you’re killing him. When all you’re doing is moving your hand under your little pajama shorts.

“Babe, this is torture. This has to be illegal or something, what are you doing to me?” he cries out in agony, pulling at his hair. You nod down at his lap without stopping your ministrations, calling attention to the tent in his sweatpants.

“I think you know exactly what I’m doing to you,” you tease. Eddie scrubs his face with an impatient hand.

“I’m hard as a rock here, princess, show some mercy. My dick fucking aches.”

“So stroke it, handsome. You’ve got full use of your hands.” You know it’s evil even as you say it but you feel devious pleasure well up inside you at the sight of his crumpled face and the way he less than enthusiastically reaches into his sweats and starts stroking his cock.

When he begins jerking off in earnest, that’s when the game becomes harder for you. When he pulls the waistband of his sweats down under his balls and gives you a perfect view of his hand fisting over his hardened length. The sight causes you to redouble your efforts, speeding up the rub of your fingers against your clit, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie.

“Let me see,” he insists after a while. When you hesitate he huffs. “If I can’t touch it, let me at least look at your pussy, c’mon.”

His words are pathetic, but they move you enough to get you to shimmy down your little shorts, exposing you to the air and his scrutiny. His face lights up as if you’d given him the best Christmas present in the world and fresh slick soddens your cunt as you watch him start to stroke himself harder. Faster.

“So fuckin’ pretty, princess,” he grunts under his breath. In spite of yourself you find yourself getting even more worked up by his praise. He zeros in on the way your tongue pokes out of your mouth in the midst of your concentration. He nearly growls. “Put that tongue away before I come over and suck on it.”

You laugh at that.

“You’re staying on that side till you cum,” you say, defining the rules of the game for the first time. Eddie lurches back against the pillows as if you shot him.

“You’re a fucking tease.”

“Yeah, and you’re a horn dog. We both knew who we agreed to date,” you respond cheekily.

“I’m starting to regret that agreement,” Eddie grumbles under his breath.

“What was that?” You arch an eyebrow at him. He shakes his head dismissively but you reach up and divest yourself of your top. His eyes go wide, as if he hasn’t seen your bare chest a million times before. You palm at a breast while bringing your other hand back down to play with yourself.

“No seriously. What was it you were saying you regret?” you ask, sinking two fingers into your heat and adding a breathier lilt to your voice. Eddie’s eyes widen, clearly unsure of what they want to watch more as they bounce between gazing at the activity of each of your hands. You let out a moan - truly turned on by his attention - and he grits his teeth.

“I said I’m starting to regret dating a fucking tease.”

Your laugh is completely condescending and it causes him to grip the base of his cock tightly.

“The door’s that way, Teddy.”

“Fucking Christ,” Eddie swallows thickly. He closes his fluttering eyelids for a second and sinks lower against the pillow and begins jerking his cock harder. “That’s a low blow, sweetheart.”

You only call him Teddy when you’re really far gone. Which isn’t exactly what’s happening here as you’re receiving pleasure from your own hand and tauntingly keeping him at arm’s length. There’s something about that nickname being used during this subverted power dynamic.

“Blowing low is my favorite and you know it,” you say, licking your lips and drawing his attention to your mouth. Your overly suggestive words make him groan. Pre-cum consistently pools at his leaky tip and it’s making you needier than you care to admit. You add a third finger in your pussy and the sound is obscene.

“So you’re really going to cum without letting me touch you, huh?” Eddie asks. You smile, though your eye lids are heavy as you get closer to your climax.

“Yeah I think so,” you reply with a playful shrug. Your eyes train on his cock, swollen and red and choked in his moving grip. You squeeze your breast and pick up the pace of your thumb on your clit. “I’m watching something better than porn, after all.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks.

“Oh yeah? You like the show?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” There is less condescension in your tone now. Your breathing is heavier and you ascend the peak you’ve been climbing all this time. Cockily, Eddie spreads his legs wider and brashly begins tugging his cock with long, slow, teasing strokes. You swallow harshly.

“You do know that the minute you cum, I’m gonna be on you right? Gonna fuck you so hard that smart mouth will go dumb.”

“Will you?” You ask, meaning to make it sound like a challenge, but as sweat coats your skin and your inner muscles start to clench it comes out more like a request.

Eddie definitely notices.

“Oh, I promise you, baby. When I’m done with you, the only thing you’re going to be able to say is my name.”

“Eddie…” you reply, trying to come up with a full admonishment because he’s trying to wrestle the power out of your hands and that wasn’t what you were going for.

“That’s a good start, princess. I expect there will be more drooling, but it’s a good start.”

You cum a few moments later, gasping his name and bucking your hips into your hand. And that’s all it takes for Eddie to lurch across the distance between you and shove himself inside. Despite your previously dismissive, teasing demeanor, you welcome him, closing your legs around his waist and clinging to him with everything you’ve got.

Eddie kisses you fiercely.

“Fuck you, making me wait, princess,” he grunts with absolutely no malice, lips sucking down your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of him pounding into you. A big difference in size between him and your fingers.

“You– oh fuck! You loved it,” you manage to get out.

“Damn right I did, you fucking minx. Always know how to push my buttons, don’t you?” As he says it, he pushes yours, swirling a finger over your too sensitive clit. You convulse.

“Jesus, Eddie! ‘M sensitive…”

“No no no, you can take it, I know you can,” Eddie chuckles. He does slow his pace, however, looking down between you to watch the drag of his cock in and out of your cunt. He brings a hand to press down on your lower belly, feeling how deep he gets inside of you during an inward thrust. “Right here. Gonna cum right here, baby.”

“Please,” you whimper. A far cry from your previously cocky demeanor. Eddie loves that about you. That you can switch on a dime, just like him. It keeps things fun.

“Not showing me the door now, are you, baby?”

“Eddieeee…”

Eddie takes your hand then, the one you’d used to fuck your self. He brings it to his face and starts kissing each finger before sucking lasciviously on the center of your palm.

“This hand can’t do it like me. I know that’s true.”

With him filling you over and over again, you nod blindly, making him chuckle.

“Every time you touch yourself, I want you to remember that I know how you like it. Hard and fast and big. That’s what I can give you, right? Giving you what you need right now, huh minxy?”

You cry out when he lifts your hips, changing the angle and hitting a spot inside you that could could barely dream of reaching on your own.

You cum again three more times that night. And Eddie’s right - it does end with his name being the only thing in your mind.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed!

[ghostlykeyes]

Can you do the head canons set for Yone and Sett like you did for Kayn??? Thank you !!!!

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HEARTSTEEL SETT / READER ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW (Light sexuality, nothing explicit.) ♡ Hi my dear! Wasn't sure if you meant the relationship ones or kiss ones—Yone is getting both in upcoming separate posts, and I've already done Sett kisses here ! Hope you enjoy these :D

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SETT

Sett's most sensitive spot is his ears. They're dreamy soft, like velvet but thicker, and oh-so-warm. When you play with them he goes weak in the knees, tilting his head towards your gentle hands and letting out a low groan. He adores when you play with them. If he plops his head in your lap and looks up at you with pleading puppy-dog eyes, chances are an ear-rub is what he's begging for.

After Sett smashes out a great lifting session, he usually sends you a mirror selfie. He just wants to tell you he had a great workout, and he loves when you encourage him, so it's mostly innocent. But come on...he's shining with sweat, his muscles look fucking huge, and he's got that flushed-cheek, out of breath smile. How are you not supposed to ogle him a little bit? If you accuse him of trying to turn you on with his gym selfies he goes 'no wayyyyyy'. The next picture he says—one of him winking at you, with the hem of his shirt pulled tight between his sharp teeth and his glorious abs on display—says otherwise.

Sett's social media pages consist of basically two things: gymbro shit and cute animal videos. He spams you with the latter. Expect lots of pictures of housecats cuddling ("us", he captions) and videos of dogs doing tricks ("do u think we could teach earnest that??" Probably not, you tell him, but you find him on the kitchen floor the next morning trying to get the poor dog to do a flip anyway).

Sett is all for pet-names, and rarely calls you by your given name. He  goes with the classic "babe" a lot. Sometimes he likes to spice it up by sprinkling in nicknames like "hot stuff" or "sweets". If he's being cheeky, he'll give you a teasing smirk and call you his "favorite groupie".

Sett loves staying active (obviously) and he's always down to try something new. If you're for hurting date ideas, take him rollerskating, rock climbing, or swimming. And, if you're really brave? Ask him and the rest of the Heartsteel guys to go paint-balling with you. Bless his heart, he will try so hard to protect you and hyper-carry your team but his aim just isn't that good. (Predictably, Sett ends up covered in paint-splashes. He's nothing if not a good meat shield.)

For your first Christmas together, Sett's mom knits you a beanie to match his. "Oh, you two are adorable," she beams as her son excitedly tugs the warm hat over your ears. Once you've earned the beanie, trust that you've got Mama's approval on lock.

Anyone that wrongs you is on Sett's shit-list for life. He's a hothead and he knows how to hold a fucking grudge. If you complain about your boss or come to him teary-eyed because a friend blew off plans, he's fuming. "That fucking asshole," he snarls. Of course, he sets aside his fury to comfort you. Just know that a lifelong beef has been started and he's going to scowl every time you bring that person's name up again.

After a hard workout, Sett loves to tease you by pulling you in for a sweaty bear-hug. Don't worry, though—he's always down to hit the showers with you right after.

Sett knows his way around the human body—he's got a near medical knowledge of muscle groups, nerves, and effective stretches just from his time in the gym. What does this mean for you, though? The best fucking massages in the entire universe. The moment you complain about a kink in your neck or a sore back Sett's cracking his knuckles. "Okay, hot stuff," he says, placing his gentle hands on your tight muscles. "Where exactly does it hurt?" Of course, you don't need to be in pain to get a massage—Sett's eager to touch you any chance he can get. Pout a little and ask if he can pretty please rub your neck, and his hands are on you before you can finish your sentence.

Since he's a cuddle-bug and serial napper, plan on spending a fair amount of time snuggled up in Sett's bed. He keeps sweatpants in his closet for you so you can be comfy during cuddle-seshes. Honestly, though, he prefers if you skip the pants altogether and chill out in your underwear and one of his old t-shirts. He tends to take a fabric scissors to any of his shirts with sleeves—your favorite sleep shirt, though? He mercifully leaves that one alone.

Sett's a massive show-off. Anytime you're on your tippy-toes trying to reach the top shelf or you're struggling with the pickle jar, Sett swoops in with an "Oh, lemme get that for ya!" And if he's flexing extra hard opening the jar or stretching his arms so that just the teeeeeeeniest bit of his shirt slips up, exposing his six-pack...well. You might as well enjoy the show, right?

Even though he wears lifting gloves, Sett's hands get chapped and calloused, anyway. He constantly steals your lotion. If you catch him swiping it out of your bag his ears go back and he offers you a sheepish, "sorry, hon...", but does he stop?  No chance. He pops the top and slathers it on his hands, anyway. "Whaaaaaat?" he whines as you stare him down. "If I'm all rough and whatever you'll stop holding hands with me."

You and Sett have a frankly obscene amount of plushies. There's an endless sea of plush on your bed, plus a good handful on his, but he just. keeps. buying. more. You'd complain, since it makes finding a comfy position to sleep a battle sometimes, but come on... how can you say no to a sugarcone furyhorn? Fucking impossible.

Sett's favorite way to pull you closer is by your belt loops. He hooks his fingers through and gives your hips a light tug, loving the surprised squeak you give when you bump into his massive frame.

Sett has a metal water bottle with him at all times (gotta stay hydrated)! Even though he rolls his eyes when you paste cute stickers on it, you notice that he never peels them off.

[shuacore]

[ 00:53 ] skating in central park — bill evans

“holy balls it’s cold as fuck.” 

leave it to jun to keep it romantic. you hold back a snort of laughter, knowing it would only egg your boyfriend on more. he has his hand shoved into his pockets, breath coming out in steamy puffs of air. it’s biting this evening, but jun looks like a drama lead—so cute, all bundled with the tip of his nose red in his long trench coat and white puffy earmuffs—that you don’t even mind.

you sigh knowingly, twisting around to look at him with a smile. “come on! the christmas market is so cute.” 

“why can’t we just get drinks inside?” he whines, and you flit over, pressing a quick kiss to his cold cheek. this silences him for a moment as he regards you with wide eyes, smiling with adoration. your stomach flip flops around. ah, it never gets old.

“let’s just do a quick loop and then i promise we can go and get drinks. at a bar. inside,” you say in earnest, and this seems to persuade jun. you loop your arm through his, tucking yourself neatly into his side. he’s warm, even under all the layers, and you smell the familiar aroma of amber and cinnamon wafting from his skin. 

he groans,”fine,” without any heat, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. your grin takes over your whole face as you tug him deeper into the throng of people. there are booths lining the walkway packed with sparkling decorations, large painted ornaments and tempting aromas of herbs and spices. your mouth waters as you pass by a booth selling pierogis, and you tug jun behind you as you move closer, pressing a finger against the glass.  

“ooh, let’s get some,” you say, and your excitement is enough to convince jun to hand over eight dollars to the stand, smiling fondly as you feed him bites from your fork. they’re warm and buttery and a perfect snack to combat the bitter chill of the winter air, and with full bellies you continue tooling around the market. you peruse spice stands, cooking stands, art stands, hand knit hats, scarves, and mittens, hand-painted ornaments, and a million other handcrafted things, all the while jun follows faithfully behind. his eyes glint merrily in the Christmas lights swinging in the night air. 

the pathway opens up into a lively center square, and you gasp excitedly, reaching out to grasp jun’s gloved hand tightly in your own.

“look! ice skating!” you say with vigor, skipping over to the barrier and watching the skaters with wide eyes. you turn back to your boyfriend, blushing to see him watching you again with poorly disguised amusement. “we should do it!”

jun’s eyebrows disappear underneath his fringe. “oh…i don’t know…”

you seemed to be spending most of your time convincing your partner to have a good time with you. 

“come onnnn! i’ll pay this time,” you plead, tugging on his elbow like a needy child. normally you’d take no for an answer, but it’s christmas for god’s sake, and you want to go ice skating with your boyfriend. not surprisingly, it doesn’t take much for him to relent—a few ‘please, please, please’s and an extra whispered promise in his ear for some winter activities you could do once you got home—before he’s pulling you by the hand to the booth and smacking a bill on the counter. 

“two pairs of skates! sizes 7 and 11, please.” your smile is blinding as you place a giddy peck to the cheek, and there he goes blushing again, like this is your first date and not your 200th. you like seeing jun all flustered around you; even after four years it still makes your stomach flip.

the worker hands jun his change and two pairs of skates—one of which he hands off to you—and you find a place to put them on. then the two of you are standing at the edge of the rink, hand in hand. you’ve only ever really gone skating on the ponds near your house, and even then it’s only been the two of you or family members during the holidays. and suddenly you’re a little nervous. experienced skaters and hockey players zip by at blinding speeds, and you inhale a sharp breath as the speed of a skater passing by ruffles your scarf. 

sensing your hesitation, jun gives your hand a soft squeeze and pulls you onto the rink. you grip the wall, white-knuckled, as jun leads you around the edge. it’s slow-going at first, as you get your bearings on the ice, but jun seems to pick up the movements naturally. he’s always been more adept at picking up new skill and ice skating seems to be no exception.

“wait, how are you so good at this?” you ask, breathless, as jun skates gracefully backwards, all the while still holding your hand in his. your trepidation is replaced by incredulity as jun releases your hand and swiftly flips around and glides off in easy loops.

“what the hell?!” you curse loudly, earning you a few grumpy glares from parents of young kids, but you’re too preoccupied watching your ice-skating-prodigy boyfriend to notice. the wind whips through his dark hair, pushing it off his forehead as he passes by you, close enough to feel his fingers graze your arm. “when did you learn to do this?!”

your knees are still unsteady on the ice, and you keep your fingers wrapped around the wall as you hobble around, trying to catch up with your boyfriend. 

“wait!” you call out in slight desperation as he skates past you one more time, weaving in and out of couples and kids making their own rounds. you frown, still sedentary, as jun finally skates back to you, skidding to a stop so you feel a light shower of ice sprinkle your face. 

“hey—ouch!” jun whines, rubbing his shoulder where you just punched him. “what?!”

“since when have you been good at skating?!” you ask in disbelief. he shrugs, exclaiming aloud when he dodges another swing. 

“stop!” jun protests, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and then he knits his fingers in your tightly. “just… like this, come on.” he pulls you gently away from the wall amid objections, showing you how to swish your feet in a graceful back-and-forth pattern. you start to gain a little speed. the wall seems miles away now, other skaters are dipping and weaving around you, and you turn back to jun with your arms held aloft, his name already formed on your lips in jubilation—

WHAM!

this time you do curse loud enough for enough people to hear. jun laughs raucously over the sound of other skaters as you lay flat on your back on the ice, your elbows, hips and pride aching. his face appears over yours, hair hanging down, face glowing with mirth. he offers you a hand, and pulls you up slowly as you wince. talk about old bones—you were going to be feeling that for a week. you hold your butt, massaging the muscle as it aches. 

“fuck,” you groan, lightly punching jun again as he laughs. it soothes your dignity just a bit to see him so happy, throwing his whole head back as he wipes the tears from his eyes. 

“here, i’ll help you,” jun promises, holding his arm out to you. this time it goes a little smoother as jun guides you around the rink. you almost make a full second rotation before you stumble again, this time taking your boyfriend down with you in a spectacular display of limbs and more curse words. the two of you laugh, amid a tangle of arms and legs, breathless. the air doesn’t seem so biting anymore. even on the ice, feeling the bruises blossoming on your shins and butt, watching your boyfriend heave himself to his feet, brush off the snow from his long winter trench coat like some kind of rom-com lead has your heart fluttering in your chest. he pulls you to your feet again, and sputters in surprise when you lurch forward to press a kiss to his lips. 

it fills your chest with warmth, and you laugh short-winded against his mouth as jun’s hands rest on the back of your neck. he’s a bit too eager, biting your lip slightly as you pull away before he’s finished. (you are still in public after all.)

“what was that for?” he asks, nose and cheeks red from the cold. you lift your hand to his face, tracing the line of his cheekbone lightly with your thumb. 

“mm, nothing. i just love you,” you say, quietly, unable to stop the smiles from filling your face. 

jun leans in again, lips centimeters form yours when someone yells, “get a room!” and you freeze. jun laughs loudly again, throwing his head back like he always does. you hid your face against his chest as you giggle in embarrassment. his arms are warm around your body.

“do you wanna take a break?” he asks when you resurface. 

you falter. “but we just got them,” you say, feeling a bit guilty. 

“hey, we have them for a whole hour,” he assures you, and presses a kiss to your temple. 

despite your protests, the activities on land are much more your speed. after finding a secluded little bench, jun disappears for a moment, only to return with two steaming mugs of hot apple cider. it’s sweet and a little spicy but it sends a welcome wave of warmth through your body, letting the steam defrost your noses and cheeks from the winter air. jun wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as you watch the skaters together. 

and you just sit in quiet for a while, every so often commenting on the booths or other market-goers. unbeknownst to you, jun watches you fondly, taking in your slouched posture, your bright eyes as you drink in the christmas festivities. that alone is enough to make his chest want to burst. he tucks you just a bit tighter in to his side, lifting a hand to press a gentle kiss to the back of your gloved knuckles.

his presence is just as warm as the cider cupped in your hands.

--

check out my masterlist!

a/n: just a fun little wintery jun-fic that's been on my mind. i was also thinking of posting it to skating by vince guaraldi (also a good one if u want the ambiance!!!!) but i liked the mellow tones of bill evans too :3

xx thanks for reading LOVE U!!!

[luciusspriggss]

i am a romantic at heart, i love love in all its forms

and i am trying really hard to focus on myself and not let romance cloud my mind

but that is very hard when you get a tattoo at a studio you have never been to with an artist you have never met

who turns out to be one of the most gentle, tender, earnest person you have seen in a long time

and he likes to hike, but prefers to take it slow so he can admire the flowers and geology

he likes to consume media the same way you do and is also cursed with having nobody want to watch with you

has the same morals and is a good listener and truly has beautiful outlooks of life that he has discovered because of the horrors experienced and witnessed

has made it so he looks for any potential partner to be in therapy and actively working on themself.

admits his own faults

and is one of the cutest fucking people you have ever seen. he was so proud of the bee he tattooed on me and how cute it looked.

he was happy that i wanted an orchid done and that i knew about common means of orchid pollination and we shared our knowledge for the different orchid's we are fans of and their respective evolved growth patterns and specific pollinators

he is an anxious guy who is scared if his clients don't talk to him he thinks they don't like him

like the universe is really throwing me a curve ball here

i want to get to know him more, but it is inappropriate to ask your tattoo artist out for a walk in the community forest

i don't even know what his whole face looks like, because we were both wearing masks

i chalked up the experience as a lovely moment between two souls who understood one another and left it at that

i dont want to enter a relationship, i dont want to date, but in another lifetime, had we met elsewhere, i would have been enamored.

and it makes me kind of sad

ive been having a lot of moments with strangers as i have been going out into the world

but none have stuck like he has :/

[galedekkarios]

mx galedekkarios dot tumblr dot com may i please have some gale and/or bloodweave hcs from your big beautiful mind 👉👈 (or honestly just any longform post of bg thoughts at all bc ur tags keep inflicting me w gory stickmen disease and wanting to read more ;;)

oh anon whadda hell.. u flatter me. 🫶 i unplugged my brain real quick and gave it a shake and this is all what fell out (some are mature):

in a modern au, gale's second favorite cuisine (after greek ofc) is east asian! he loves to both eat it and cook it from scratch. chinese, korean, japanese, etc. he's even good at other asian cuisines like thai and vietnamese. he's gotten very familiar with a lot of recipes and actively tries to learn more. when he doesn't feel like cooking that night, he opts for takeout. he's been a loyal customer of a handful of restaurants for so long that they already know his tastes too.

the only reason why gale's students don't try to flirt with him is because he's too much of a "my wife" guy. he's always wearing his ring, always talking about his partner, and has portraits of them in his office and everything. there's just no way you don't know that he's happily taken. you could be talking about the most random thing ever and he'd be like "omg! this reminds me of how my partner blahblahblah—" and everyone else is just like 😐 because he's already told this story five times before. not even tara is safe from this (and she was probably present for whatever story it is this time, too!). [this is assuming his students are older / uni prof]

i think gale would be the type of person to have a very Intense gaze without meaning to. the kind where you can feel it whenever he's looking at you. or when he's gazing at you lovingly, or even just looking you in the eye as you speak, it's almost too much. it's just so earnest, so sincere, so... intent on witnessing you and really paying attention, that it's like. whoa man. whoaaaaaaa now let's fucking chill before i blink and realize i've fallen in love with you alright 😳 (and, of course, this Greatly unsettles astarion in the beginning bc he's someone that can't afford to be seen.)

i know in my heart that mr "mine was a popular hand at the annual blackstaff's ball" + bagged a goddess + with the way i talk you can't be surprised i'm a generous munch + wyll, is it true that ppl think wizards don't fuck? :( bc i assure you we absolutely do!!!!! + mystra had pleasure domes dekarios was a hot girl once and his pussy still does pop severely. he's just in his depression era rn 💔

wyll calls gale elegant, minthara calls him dashing, shadowheart says he smells like a wealthy dowager, lae'zel assumes correctly that he had many tutors in his youth, and gale frequenting the temple of beauty in waterdeep all make me feel like gale x astarion are very the lady and the tramp coded. after they get married, they're old money x new money.

gale is always eager to teach astarion new spells, but astarion only gets excited about the ones that either help him be a better scoundrel and/or that spice up their sex life. which like. is still a win for them both either way

um. throat goat. that's it that's the headcanon sorry except it's also not really a hc bc he alludes to this but it's important to me tht we repeat it. but also maybe it shocks astarion the first time he's on the receiving end of it like boy WHAT!!!! you didn't tell me you was a freak like that!!! literally that damn shawty ok meme. gale gives him such wet sloppy glizzy gluck that it makes astarion feel like he has to wipe his ass afterward smh

neither of them want to get anywhere near bugs, but in any au gale would be the type to take it outside and astarion would just kill it using one of gale's 39304308309 books laying around

gale struggles to catch sarcasm and astarion loves to rile him up and take the piss out of him for it. lovingly ofc. whenever gale does understand astarion's sarcastic comments, he feels very proud of himself.

astarion sometimes drops things on purpose just to watch gale bend over. sorry (i'm the one that's sorry, not him btw)

[brujahinaskirt]

I've never seen anyone mention this, so I will: Kingdom Come is balls-to-the-wall obsessed with symbolism. This is fitting for a medieval game (the medieval world was obsessed with symbolism), and it's loaded with symbols in both its art and storytelling elements. What I find worth remarking on is that KCD takes a far more subtle, literary, and artful approach to its symbolism than most games within its genre; its symbolism thrives in the margins, as with literature. It doesn't flounce in the spotlight with a megaphone as with most games.

[Cut for rambly analysis.]

One of the things I deeply appreciate about the script is that it doesn't talk down to the player. If you don't actively think about the storytelling while you play -- if you don't watch for foils, parallels, symbols, motifs, read character expressions and pay attention to the content of the conversations as well as the emotional delivery -- you'll miss half the meat and meaning and message of the writing. That's a rarity these days; even "writing-based" games tend to spoon-feed players embarrassingly facile stories, childish depictions of trauma, and insultingly thinly-developed character arcs (ahem, rhymes with Why-o-Bear).

And sure, you can shut your brain off or come in with bad faith blinders on and steamroller through KCD's main quest, walking away having had a coherent if mediocre medieval video game experience. But you'll miss Theresa's apples scattering on the ground at the moment the daily life she ambivalently but carefully tended to is torn asunder. You'll miss how Henry's speech tics mirror his mother's word-for-word in delivery and in text. You'll miss that Hans presents himself as a swaggering hunter but is consistently visually associated with a hounded, hunted stag. You'll miss how Henry and Hans's relationship so doggedly parallels what we know of Martin and Radzig's, and to a lesser extent Istvan and Erik's. You'll miss that certain characters' clothing matches or contrasts in color schemes (another enormous medieval obsession). You'll miss how the sacking of Skalitz is what enables village bullies Matthew and Fritz to descend into real villainy, and how Henry gradually gains the sense of self to step outside Matthew's sphere of toxic influence. You'll miss that Radzig speaks honestly to Henry through metaphors and riddles and wordplay since he's far too awkward to speak to him openly. You'll miss that after forming a friendship with a peasant, responsibility-avoider Hans develops a new concern for how his actions affect everyday people, meanwhile layabout loafer Henry develops a sense of accountability to society at large. You'll miss that Theresa is almost always pictured nearby water (rain or rivers or puddles) just as Hans is associated with the forest and Henry is so often cinematically staged facing hills (and usually among flowers). You'll miss the journal entries, some of which are genuinely heartbreaking in the simplicity and earnestness of their longing, and in their hopes for better things ahead.

Some portions of the narrative are so well-crafted in this regard that the weaker portions/writers really stand out. That's the downside of writing in teams, but oh man, with an arty storytelling approach like KCD's, you can fucking tell when someone's writing skill wasn't up to snuff (ahem, Lady Tone-Deafany)... or when the team just wasn't in love with a character or a subplot enough to flesh out the symbolism.

But I'm getting away from my point now and starting to ramble, so I'll rein myself back in.

I edit books, so my storytelling field is a bit different. But by my metrics, the most successful novels—the ones that manage to both perform commercially and offer something of genuine artistic, emotional merit to audiences—do it like KCD does it. The basic narrative must be simple enough for casual readers to understand at a foundational level. But for readers who relish the experience of deep reading—who come equipped with thoughtfulness, a real desire to appreciate storytelling (at context and subtext levels), and the ability to critically & emotionally engage with multiple character arcs at once—there's so much more than the surface.

Many gamers praise game developers for designing game mechanics that don't baby them. Likewise, I praise writers who don't baby me.

[funfunfuntillmydaddy]

Few things are better in life than the feeling of a bare cock cumming in my pussy.

Of course some guys are a bit shy when it comes to sex and fucking a girl bareback. While not common for me, especially when I’m enticing them to cheat on their girlfriends with me, every once in a while a guy insists.

And that’s what happened with Eric. Eric was one of my ‘friends’ boyfriend. They had been together for ages. He was cute but a bit shy and a bit geeky. But he had all the right attributes for me, a cute face and big hands.

What also made him adorable was how loyal he was to Hannah. My flirting can be both persistent and pretty obvious. After over a year of trying to get his attention and have some fun with him.

I was almost going to give up until one night I found myself out with a bunch of our friends including him, but not Hannah. We had started early in a bar and it had all the hallmarks of one of those marathon, multi venue nights. I locked my sights on him and made sure the guys around him kept him well lubricated with alcohol

Luckily I had dressed for the occasion with a short leather skirt and a tight white top that was just a little see thru to my lace bra.

When darkness hit and we ended up in a dance club I started my campaign in earnest. Being the shy type that he was, dancing wasn’t too much his thing. So I had to drag him on to the floor along with some others in the group.

I’m of course I woman of restraint and patience so I didn’t launch straight into the bump and grind. But I did dance with him and around him so he could get used to it. His nervousness was palpable.

Fast forward a few hours, a few venues and quite a few drinks and we ended up in one of those clubs oozing sex and all sorts of natural and synthetic chemicals. We had lost quite a few from the group. But the hardcore remained. Eric and I had become one night drunken soulmates as we took turns helping each other navigate the treacherous drunken journeys faced by any seriously intrepid bar hopper.

And now the dancing was not restrained at all. We were not just touching, we were pressed into each other. His hands were glued to my hips as I pressed one way, when spun around and pressed back into him the other. I could feel his excitement. I could feel his stiff cock. We went on and on. The dancing getting more intense and his poor balls getting bluer.

When the last ones in our group called it a night and it was just us, I decided it was time to take this to the next level. I told him we should go. He was a little surprised it was so late and it was just us. So I said we should catch one cab and since I was closer, he could drop me off first and then head home. Of course that not what I actually thought.

We found a conveniently dodgy looking taxi and climbed in. As we set off, I gave the driver a flirty look and asked if he could turn the music up. He looked back at me and grinning turned up the dance station he had on.

I told Eric that I still felt like dancing and kinda wished we were back in the club. As soon as he nodded in agreement, I shuffled over to him before I moved up and sat on his lap. I moaned softly as I felt his semi hard cock under me. Then I squirmed to the music as I rubbed myself over his lap. Similar to the club but just with some different geometry.

I saw the taxi drivers eyes in the rear view mirror and I smiled to myself. Unfortunately, of course, the change in position caused my short skirt to ride up. But not quite fully. So I helped it along with some subtle sweeps of my hands. Suddenly my skirt was totally on my hips. My ass framed by a black lace thong on display for Eric.

My face turned on an even more wicked smirk when I felt Eric’s hands move to my hips and then down to my sides, touching at least some my bare ass cheeks.

We continued for another few blocks till we got to my apartment. Now it was crunch time. I told him this area was a bit dodgy and would he mind seeing me to the door. Or he could come up and sleep on the couch if he didn’t wanna waste money on taking the cab across town, reminding him Hannah was out of state with her family.

He was all hesitant and nervous. So sweet but he couldn’t not walk with me the short distance so he went to get out and I quickly gave the driver$20 and as Eric was out the door, told him to scram. He just laughed as I got myself out and repositioned my skirt.

As we walked the short distance through the front of the building, the taxi screamed off as the driver tooted his horn. I smirked at Eric as I said it looked like he was staying here now. Of course I had no intention of him sleeping on my couch. So I decided to ramp it all up right from there.

As we stood at the entrance of my building I leaned in to him and grabbed the front of his shirt pulling him down to me as I gave him a hard kiss. He pulled back slightly but then o could feel his urges take over as he leaned in. I let my tongue dance in his mouth as the sloppy and slutty kissing continued.

After a good moment or two of this, I broke away before taking his hand and pulling him into the mid sized apartment complex. As we waited for the lift and the kissing continued. The size and layout of the complex meant it was unusual to run into other people especially at this time of night. So with the assumption of privacy I gave him a big grin as the doors closed. We only had 9 floors to go but I still managed to get to my knees and unbuckle his jeans, pull his cock from his underwear and start sucking before the doors opened.

He tried to pull away at first but was already against the wall. By the time the doors were opening though, his hands were on the back of my head, encouraging his cock into my mouth. With no urgency at all as the lift shows no sign of moving I kept sucking his cock. But then the doors closed and the lift travelled back down. As it slowed I hurriedly put his cock away while I stood up and fixed myself up.

The doors opened and a couple walked in, surprised to see us there. I smiled back at them as I pressed back into Eric. Subtext reaching behind to feel his hardness. Through his still unbuckled jeans. This time we did get out on the 9th floor as our fellow travellers continued on.

I spun around and laughed as I lead Eric to my apartment. Eric’s face looked embarrassed but he showed no sign of retreat. So I continued my assault on his morals and I lifted up my skirt again so it was back over my hips. Then as I got to my door I reached behind me and pulled him into me. I grinded back into him, unlocking the door with one hand and and pulling his cock back out with the other.

We tumbled through the door into the small apartment. The couch was right in front of us. I turned to him and offered him the couch and then after a silent pause and a wicked grin, I offered an alternative.

Adorably, he told me the couch was fine. But I just smirked as I leaned back into him and meet his mouth as we kissed. I whispered into his ear that his cock is going feel so good when it’s in my pussy. He let out an groan and then I grabbed his hand and led him to my bedroom.

Once in there I pulled his jeans all the way down, pulling his boots off and helping him out of his jeans. Then I lifted the shirt up to help him remove it. Now he was completely naked and I admired his toned body with better muscle definition than I was expecting and a nice hard cock pointing out in front.

I feel back on the bed and gave him a wink as I pulled my thong to the side. That when he killed the mood and asked if I had a condom.

That’s killed the mood in the past, but I was committed to having fun with Eric so I took it in my stride. I told him he didn’t have to cause I was on the pill but like a good little boy he insisted.

So I went into my bathroom and returned with a condom. It wasn’t something I used that often. In fact this one had expired and was also a medium sized which I didn’t think was gonna work for him. Of course, I had a pack of large ones that were brand new in my cabinet, but Eric didn’t need to know that.

I sat on the bed in front of him as I removed the condom from the wrapper and placed it over his stiff cock. I struggled to get the condom stretched over his impressive size and I could tell it was already dry and brittle. But I managed to get it two thirds of the way over his cock.

Once I begrudgingly wrapped it up I pulled him on to the bed and on his back. I straddled him and lined up my dripping pussy with the head of his cock. I lock eyes with him as I lower myself down onto him. Both of us moan as the tension of the night now focuses on his cock and my pussy. I lift up and then push down. I keep going, quickening the pace and increasing the intensity.

I keep going harder to the point where the bed starts to creak and groan. Eric’s hands make their way to my breast through my top. I pull it off to let him have a more sensory experience as I keep fucking him. He pulls my bra down exposing my breasts allowing him to aggressively fondle them.

Our combined moaning continues to crescendo as I keep fucking him. Every once and a while checking the condom to see if it has given up yet. Alas, it holds on.

Eric is getting more and more into it now. Being very active in the fucking as he thrusts his hips up to meet me. I can feel him trying to reposition himself. So I pause my assault briefly.

He moves out from under me and roughly pushes me on my back. He quickly gets in between me and puts my ankles over his shoulders. He drives his cock deep inside me and instantly restarts the hard fucking in our new position. He keeps going and going. Now his assault on my pussy becomes relentless.

His stamina holds and his nice big cock gets me close to cumming. I’m moaning in ecstasy. As he slams into me as hard as ever, I feel something different. I move my hand to the base of his cock as it slams into me to confirm. Sure enough a broken condom is now bunched up at the base of his cock. It rubs against my lips as he drives his bare cock into me. A broad smile comes across my face as a guttural moan escapes me.

I look my legs around his waist keeping him against me. I tell him that I think the condom has broke but that I’m so close to cumming I plead with him to keep going.

I see the flash of fear on his face as I tell him. He slows briefly but my pleads and moans convince him to keep going. I’m so close to cumming but need a bit more from him. My breathing is so ragged and my moaning intense. I can sense he is close to. I squeeze my pelvic muscles as much as possible to clamp his cock. He starts grunting and I feel his cock swell. I plead with him to keep fucking me and he does, with more intensity than ever. He grunts and groans loudly. We are both totally entranced.

I scream obscenities as I go over the edge. Then i feel him slam deep inside me and hold it there. My orgasm floods my body as I feel him empty himself directly into my unprotected pussy. I look at his face and smile as I see the annalistic pleasure travel through him.

We hold it there for a few moments before he pulls out and collapses next to me.

........

As the light comes into my room, I slowly open my eyes. It must be mid morning. I feel Eric spooning me and I feel his cock pressing into my ass. I’m still wearing my skirt around my hubs and my bra only slightly higher up around my waist.

I get up trying not to disturb him and go and have a shower.

I’m a little bit nervous about what his more sober and stress relieved attitude will be. I decide a cooked breakfast might help him process it and recover. So I put on a short bath robe and go to the kitchen to make breakfast.

A short while later he emerges from the bedroom wearing his boxer shorts, looking sheepish. I smile at him and tell him I’ve got some bacon on the go. He walks over and stands behind me telling me how good it smells. Then he presses his body into mine.

20 seconds later he has me bent over the kitchen bench. His bare cock driving into my unprotected pussy. I smile to myself through my moaning and groaning

[littlesniggy]

I wouldn't want anyone else take me like this

Anon: Hi ^^ I was wondering if you're ok writing a scenario about pegging? 👉👈 If you do can I ask for it with Bartolomeo x active fem reader please? The reader had always been submissive in sex with Bart, but he finally discover her dominant part when she ask to peg him for the first time

Thank you so much in advance <3

Hey Anon! Thank you for requesting! First, I didn't know if I wanted to write about this since I'm not really into pegging but it was actually kind of fun! I've never done it before so I hope this is kinda accurate? Idk but if not I hope you're not too mad 😂 Please enjoy!

Warning: nsfw, 18+, pegging

Pairing: Bartolomeo x female reader

Word count: 2.7k

You were in the middle of a heated make-out session, Bartolomeo on top of you, his hands roaming your exposed upper body, leaving a hot and prickling feeling. His sharp teeth were scratching over your delicate neck, biting down from time to time but not drawing blood. You were panting at his ministration and your hands scratched over his exposed back, feeling some tiny scars on his skin.

The green-haired man pressed his still clothes crotch against yours and you could feel the obvious erection in his pants. You moaned quietly, pressing your body closer against his. Bartolomeo licked along your neck, down your collar bone and eventually capturing your nipple between his teeth and teasing it.

Your hands moved from his back to his chest, stroking down his hard abs and to the waistband of his pants. Swiftly, you opened them and pulled them down a little awkwardly but managing eventually. His hard member sprung free and he groaned in relief, moving his dick against your clothed thigh, leaving a small, wet trail of pre-cum. His hands made their way down your body as well, getting rid of the rest of your clothes.

His hand wandered between your legs, feeling your wet folds and rubbing against them. You moaned, louder this time, and grabbed his stiff member, moving your hand up and down. His finger entered your hot core, his mouth moving to your other nipple. You panted underneath him, enjoying the way he made you feel but today something didn’t feel right. You couldn’t pin point it directly but you had an idea.

Biting your lip, your other hand moved to his back and down to his butt, massaging it gently. Bartolomeo let go of your nipple and looked up at you, a grin on his face. “That’s new. You never grab my ass dabe.” He chuckled but not minding at all. You started massaging the trained ass harder, pressing his hips closer against you in the process.

“Nee, Bart. I’ve been thinking…” you started, second hand still massaging his dick, feeling the light pulsing underneath your touch. Bartolomeo added a second finger but kept looking at you, indicating he was listening. “Can we try something…new?” you suggested, voice a little insecure. After all, you didn’t know how he’d react to your proposition.

“Sure. What were you thinking about?” his voice sounded a little strained due to your touch on his dick; he added a third finger and spread you open, preparing you for his dick. At least, this was his intention. You moaned in response, moving against his touch while your hand on his ass slowly wandered towards a certain spot on his body no one has touched before.

It didn’t dawn on him immediately but when your finger gently and ever so lightly over his anus he understood. He stopped his movements inside of you, his body tensing up a little. “I-if you don’t like it, that’s fine! I just…had this fantasy….” Your voice got more and more quiet and your face felt hot in embarrassment.

Bartolomeo didn’t seem to know what to say, being quiet for a moment. You felt more and more insecure, already wanting to backpaddle and tell him it was a joke when he raised his voice. “I guess…we can try something new….what were you thinking about….exactly?” He sat up, looking down at you, his fingers slowly retreating from your wet core.

“Well….how about you just…let me do and if you don’t like something you tell me and I….I’ll stop. How does that sound?” you proposed, biting your bottom lip again. You could see the conflict within him but to your surprise he agreed, his grin finding its way back on his lips. “I’m intrigued dabe.” Relief flooded your body and you grinned at the man above you.

“Then let’s switch positions.” You said, getting up and letting him lay down on his back instead. You climbed on top of him, your ass hovering above his face. Your mouth was close to his dick but before you wrapped your lips around him you looked back at him with a small smile. “Just remember….if you don’t like it, tell me!”

Instead of a response a deep moan escaped his mouth when you put your lips around his head, sucking on the slick dick and taking him in deep pretty soon. Bartolomeo pulled your hips down as well, starting to lick and suck on your core, drinking your juice and making you feel incredible. His sharp teeth scratched against your lips from time to time, making you moan in response around his dick.

Your head moved up and down in tandem to the movements of his tongue fucking you in earnest and your hands moved to his balls, fondling them gently. You let your saliva glide down his dick, over his balls and it disappeared between his cheeks, coating the tiny hole. For a moment, you let his dick pop out of your mouth. “Spread your legs a little. “ you panted and he obliged, giving you better access to his most private part.

You put your mouth around his dick again, sucking and licking his dick like you were eating a popsicle. One of your hands moved further south and your finger brushed over his anus gently, not wanting to scare him immediately. You felt his hips jerk away a little from this touch but he let you continue when you rubbed over the sensitive muscle, pressing against it with some pressure but not entering him yet.

You felt how he let go of your cunt, his hot breath blowing against your wet core. “Hey, Y/n. Use lube, okay? It’ll go smoother dabe.” At this moment you felt dumb. Of course this would make things a lot easier for him. You just weren’t as experienced as him when it came to preparation; after all, he was always the one remining to use lube if needed. Especially the first times you two had intercourse.

“I’m sorry. Of course! Can you throw it to me?” you asked. Bartolomeo grinned, his hand opening the drawer next to the bed, searching around for a moment before he tossed you the bottle. But against his expectations, you didn’t coat your fingers with the lube yet; instead, you got off of him and with a grin told him to turn around and put his ass up. “Let’s focus on you today, shall we?” you giggled when he obliged, presenting you his backside.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna like what you’re about to do but you’re making me so hot right now when you tell me what to do dabe!” he admitted, looking at you over his shoulder. You didn’t reply anything to his words but you couldn’t deny that this was getting more and more exciting by the minute.

You kneeled behind him, your face getting close to his ass and your one hand grabbing between his legs, stroking his dick. The moan rumbled through his body but that was nothing compared to the moan he let out when your tongue licked over his anus. The sound gave you chills of pleasure and it encouraged you to keep going. Your hand and your tongue moved in tandem, your other hand placed on his butt cheek, massaging it and spreading it to the side to get better access. Your saliva coated his entrance and when you were sure he was ready your tongue pushed past the muscle and you felt his dick twitch in your hand.

“Damn, Y/n!” he panted, his face flushed and his eyes closed. He grabbed the sheets underneath him to have something to hold on to. Your tongue pushed in and out of his hole, twirling it inside of him, making him moan and pant in response. You felt your pussy drip as well and you wanted to get to the “fun” part soon. But you knew you had to prepare him properly.

Your grip on his dick tightened a little and after taking a quick look you saw his pre-cum drip down onto the sheets beneath him in a long string. I can go further. You thought and grabbed the lube, letting it drip down between his cheeks and also coating your fingers. The cold liquid had him shudder for a moment and he was looking at you from over his shoulder again.

“Put your face down and don’t look at me. Just enjoy the feeling.” You said, a grin on your lips. You were so excited and didn’t want to wait. “Fuck.” He hissed but laid his upper body down, burying his face in the pillow. You grabbed his dick again after putting the lube away and started coating his balls and dick with the lube as well, the lube turning warm pretty quickly and making slick sounds.

Bartolomeo moaned into the pillow and he moved his hips to your stroking. Your other hand spread the lube across his entrance and you finally pushed your pinky inside of him. You had to moan when he tightened around it. Now you could somewhat imagine how he was always feeling when he prepared you.

You moved your finger slowly inside of him, his chest heaving, his body trying to either get used to the feeling or get rid of the intrusive feeling. But with you continuously stroking his dick he relaxed around your finger and your could eventually add a second one. This time, a muffled moan could be heard. With a concentrated face you moved your fingers in and out, spreading them lightly before adding a third finger. Your curled them up inside of him and apparently hitting his prostate. His body rocked back against your finger, a loud moan echoing through the room, the pillow not doing much to muffle him.

You repeated the motion and watched in amazement how more and more pre-cum dripped down. It made your insides tingle in relief and excitement. You were scared he might not like it. Sure, you would’ve stopped. It wasn’t like sex with him was bad but this fantasy had popped up more and more often in the last couple of weeks and you wanted to try it so badly. During this time you also bought a little something the last time you stopped at a port.

When you were 100% sure that he was ready, you withdrew your fingers and let go of his dick. Panting, he looked at you once again, his face flushed and his eyes glazed. “This feels so good, Y/n. Why did you stop dabe?” he asked. “Just be patient.” You responded and got off the bed for a moment, opening a drawer and pulling out a strap-on dildo. His eyes widened and he looked a little concerned. “Why….? When did you….? What….?” He couldn’t form a coherent sentence which had you giggle. “Don’t worry. If it hurts I will stop immediately.” You reassured him when you got back on the bed. “You wanna take a look at it first?” you asked, smiling at him sympathetically.

You handed him the strap-on and let him examine the piece. His main attention was on the part you’d be shoving up his ass and it had him a little worried. But on the other hand, he trusted you completely and he was sure that you would make it as pleasurable as possible for him. So he eventually handed it back to you with a grin.

“I trust you dabe!” he said. You blushed at his words and nodded. He watched you insert the dildo into your core slowly after coating it with lube. The wet noise had his dick twitch, his eyes glued to the silicone dildo disappearing inside your pussy. You moaned at the feeling and closed the piece around your hips. Now, only the black dildo you were about to sink into him was visible and he had to admit that it looked hot and was making him feel excited.

After putting a huge amount of lube on the dildo, you placed your hands on his ass, spreading his cheeks and positioning the dildo at his entrance.

“Ready?” you asked, looking at him from behind him. Bartolomeo took a deep breath in, then nodded and pressed his face into the pillow again. You took a breath as well before slowly pushing the tip inside of him. You had to moan at the feeling of the dildo inside of you but Bartolomeo didn’t seem to feel too good right now.

His whole body was tense and the knuckles of his fingers turned white while he grabbed the sheets. “Damn!” he panted, trying to relax. It took you a while to think about touching his dick to make him feel better. As soon as you had the thought your hand was already wrapped around his dick, jerking him off with fast and hard strokes, trying to make it more pleasurable for him.

Inch by inch, you pushed further inside of him, seeing how he got more and more used to the strange feeling. When you were buried inside of him completely, your hand still vigorously stroking his dick, you moaned and closed your eyes. It felt incredible. But you couldn’t go all out just yet, Bartolomeo still not too sure how he should feel about this.

“You okay?” you panted, rubbing your thumb over his mushroom head. His dick twitched at this touch, having some sort of its own mind. “Yes…” he pressed out. His body slowly relaxed and when he moved his ass against the dildo you took the invitation.

Your first thrusts were slow and careful but the more you moved the more he got used to it and the faster you got. His moans grew louder and louder, just like your own and soon he was moving against you, the strap-on penetrating both of you, pleasuring your insides just the right way. The dildo inside of you was pushing against your g-spot with each thrust and the one inside Bartolomeo’s ass hit his prostate more often than not.

“Go faster dabe!” he demanded. Sweat was running down your bodied at the exertion, your hand still jerking him off. You leaned over his body, pressing your body against his back, your boobs feeling soft against his skin. You moaned into his ear, biting his neck and leaving light marks. You felt your orgasm come closer but you didn’t want to cum before he did. “Bart!” you moaned. “This feels so fucking good!”

The green-haired male looked at you over his shoulder, his mouth open and his breath coming in short pants. “It feels amazing dabe!” he moved against you as best as possible. “I-I’m gonna cum soon, Y/n!”

“Me too!” you pressed your body closer against his, your hand grabbing him harder, the slick sound mixing with your moans. You felt his dick throb in your hand and with a loud moan he came in your hand, his member twitching with each ribbon of cum shooting out his dick. After a few more thrusts you came as well around the strap-on, your moan joining his.

His body collapsed and you with him, both of you were panting like crazy. After a while, he shifted slightly underneath you. “Y/n…could you…pull it out? It’s getting uncomfortable dabe.” He asked. “Oh, right! Of course!” you just weren’t used to being the one thinking about everything and you kind of appreciated it even more how much effort he put into sex each time.

Carefully, you pulled out and took the strap-on off entirely, letting it fall to the floor. You dropped down next to him, your eyes closed and your mind blank, not thinking about anything at the moment.

Bartolomeo was the first one to speak up again after wrapping his arm around you, pulling you closer against his warm body.

“You were great dabe.” He said with a low voice, sounding tired. “Did you like it?” you asked, pressing your body closer to his. He pulled the blanket over the two of you. “I wouldn’t want anyone else take me like that dabe.”

“That’s good to hear.”

[eclecticmiasma]

Ebb and Flow (Josuke x Reader)

🌠Commissioned fic!🌠

NSFW

After many stressful months on patrol, Josuke finds that lazy days spent in your embrace are more precious than diamonds. 

[Warnings: consensual somnophilia]

Art Credit: Starヨル on Pixiv

A provincial sea-side town. Not exactly a hotspot of activity, nor a likely source of stress. A town full of simple folk living out their simple lives. Quaint, charming- and requiring a surprising amount of police work.

The events of 1999 took their toll on little Morioh. People lost trust in the safety of their surroundings, and countless other stand users still reside in the area. Crime skyrocketed, and while that might seem beneficial for a rookie cop fresh out of the academy, Josuke takes no joy in just how busy his job keeps him. He often wonders what his grandfather would think of Morioh in its current state. Part of him is glad he isn’t alive to see it.

You’re more than proud of Josuke. The rowdy teen you once knew went out and achieved what many felt was the impossible. Though he still faces hardship, and continues to be quite rowdy, you don’t carry any of the doubt that fills his thoughts. Josuke saved Morioh once, he’s more than capable of doing it again.

Due to his duties, spending nights alone has become so commonplace that you’re shocked when his muscular arms snake around your waist while you’re trying to get ready for bed. You notice he’s only wearing tight, gray sweatpants, and his hair looks a little unkempt. When you question this, wondering if he’s going to be late for his shift, he responds only by pressing a firm kiss to your neck and slightly grinding himself against you.

“I finally got the night off,” He says, the excitement in his voice barely hidden. You grip the counter as he kisses your neck again, this time tugging at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. The sweatpants he’s wearing leave nothing to the imagination, as his hard length juts right against the cleft of your bottom.

It’s been so long since the two of you were able to be together that even the smallest touches have you coming undone. A stroke of the front of your panties, a grasp of your thick behind, the way his breath floats across your skin as he chuckles at your reaction, “Needy, aren’t we?”

He tugs your bottoms down with your underwear and ruts himself against your bare backside. Your hand flies to his and you whine at how eager he is to take you right here and now.

“W-wait, don’t you want to…enjoy it?” You ask sheepishly, biting your lip and trying not to grind your hips in response to his own, “I don’t want to finish so soon…” Josuke lets out another laugh and slides a large hand down to toy with your clit.

“Who says we’re finished after this?”

The rest of the night is a blur. All the months of unspoken longing and sexual tension culminate in hours of exploring each other’s bodies. Not a single surface of the apartment is left unsullied. It’s only when you can barely keep yourself standing that the two of you finally roll into bed, exhausted and thoroughly sated. You hardly have time to say goodnight before Josuke is passed out, snoring like a freight train, arms wound tightly around you in a grasping embrace.  

It’s no surprise that Josuke wakes up before you, as he’s hard-wired to be alert first thing in the morning. When he sees how early it is, he debates rolling over and going back to bed. After all, he finally has the day off, and your soft, warm figure feels so good against his own. He could stay like this for the rest of his life, bodies intertwined in plush sheets. Visions of the previous night’s lovemaking hover in his mind. He closes his eyes, hoping to dream about your body writhing below his own, but his cock has a different idea.

Sighing, Josuke pulls your sticky bodies apart and gazes down at his throbbing member. After the marathon session you had, he’s glad to see that the thing still works. He looks over at your sleeping form, pondering rousing you from your slumber to go for round…seven? Eight? As his hand touches your shoulder you roll onto your back and take a deep breath in. He watches your plump breasts heave up and down. His eyes flick from your sore nipples to your swollen, parted lips. A devilish idea forms. It would be cruel to just wake you up, wouldn’t it?

Josuke carefully moves down the bed and slowly slides your legs apart. He leans over and places a hesitant kiss to your left nipple. Nothing. Smirking, he sticks out his warm, wet tongue and slides it around your areola. You emit the smallest whimper. He rewards you by lapping properly at your nipple, rolling the bud around the tip of his tongue. A heavenly sigh escapes you, sending blood straight to his length.

He mirrors his ministrations on your other breast, mindful not to wake you. His hand moves to your entrance and he swipes your slit with his fingertip. You’re incredibly wet. Some of it’s from the night before, he knows, but the idea that you want him so badly you could even become soaking in your sleep turns him on more than you’ll ever know.

He decides you’ve had enough teasing and lowers himself to the edge of the bed. Normally, you’re such a light sleeper that he’d never be able to do this in his wildest dreams. Now that he has the chance, he plans to take full advantage.

With the first swipe of his tongue across your clit, you inhale sharply. Josuke hesitates, fearing that he’s already woken you. He waits for your breathing to return to normal before licking you again, massaging your swollen mound slowly and deliberately. This time you moan in earnest, a soft and needy answer to his actions. Josuke can’t help but groan against your pussy, daring to push your legs slightly farther apart so that he can eat you out more fervently.

When Josuke tastes your soaking wet folds he closes his eyes. He presses his hard cock against the side of the mattress and ruts shamelessly against it. Your juices on his tongue, memories of thrusting into your body the night before, knowing he’s the cause of your arousal- all of it makes him dizzy with lust.

As his tongue glides up and around your sensitive hole, stopping every once in a while to tease your clit, Josuke notices your breathing is increasingly erratic. Part of him wonders if you’re only pretending to be asleep, but part of him doesn’t care. Just the idea of you cumming in your sleep drives him wild.

“Yeah? You like when I lick your pretty little pussy?” He whispers against you, hoping in some subconscious universe you’ll hear him coaxing you on, “Gonna cum just from my tongue?” Your fingers twitch response, gripping the sheets beneath you. You moan more ardently as Josuke tongues your hole. Even in the dream world it feels incredible.

Suddenly, you’re crying out, gushing on Josuke’s face and tongue as your orgasm tears you out of sleep. You whine his name as your body trembles, the reality of your surroundings and current situation settling in. Josuke grins triumphantly as he laps up your juices, milking every last drop from your clenching pussy.

He stops humping the side of the bed and gets back on it, wasting no time connecting your lips with his own. You moan into the kiss, brain feverishly trying to make sense of the sensations bombarding you. Josuke hooks an arm underneath your right leg as his tongue massages your own, delving deep into your mouth in a haze of arousal.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” He grunts, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your sopping wet entrance. His body is heavy against your own. It presses you firmly into the mattress, leaving you no choice but to writhe in pleasure with over-stimulation.

“Please,” You gasp, wrapping your arms around Josuke’s neck and threading your fingers through his disheveled hair. You don’t have to ask him twice, his member is already trying to slide into you. After a few unsuccessful attempts to penetrate you due to slipping in your slick, his length finally breaches your hole and both of you groan in response.

Josuke wastes no time seating himself fully inside of you. He takes the briefest of pauses to plant a wet kiss on your lips, then his hips are snapping against your own. After everything you’re incredibly sensitive, hovering on the edge of another orgasm as he roughly takes you.

“Next time you…want me to f-fuck you while you’re asleep?” Feral Josuke is a hard one to come by, but by no means unwelcome. He grunts and groans as he cants into you, thick cock stretching your walls at a bruising pace. Being as strong as he is, he’s usually too concerned about hurting you to truly let himself go, no matter how often you tell him you’re not going to break. This time, it’s like he’s lost himself in your body, “You want that, baby?”

You squeal as he rams you over and over, “Y-yes…Josuke!” Just the thought of him prying you open with his dick while you lay unaware and defenseless makes you throb with delight. It’s enough to send you spiraling into another orgasm. Josuke moans and grips your hips tight as your walls spasm along his shaft.

“I’ll make you cum on my cock again and again, just like that,” His own breathing is growing ragged even as he teases you, not once stopping to let you come down from your high. The over-stimulation of it all sends tears to your eyes, but you wouldn’t ask him to stop for anything. Having Josuke near you, around you, inside of you, inhaling his scent, hearing him as he releases control of himself just for you- it’s an intoxicating ride you never want to get off of.

Without warning, Josuke shifts your body and bends your other knee so that he’s deeper inside of you with every thrust. His heavy balls slap your ass in rhythm with his movements, and your nails dig into the back of his neck and shoulder blade. He loves it when you kiss the dark purple star of his birthmark, and he loves it more when the indent of your nails cut right across it.

“So good, your pussy feels s-so good,” He murmurs, relishing in your squeaks and moans and the squelching sound your bodies make as they separate. Sweat drips off of his forehead and onto your face and neck. You’re the one person allowed to see Josuke like this- filthy, unhinged, tousled. The way others can only dream of seeing him.

You feel him getting close. His breath grows ragged, groans higher in pitch, thrusts inconsistent. Josuke presses you flat against the mattress as he finally cums, spurting thick, white ropes of semen straight into your core. You mewl as his warmth fills you. No matter how many times you take his seed, it always feels electrifying. It’s a pain in the ass to clean, but something about it leaves you both breathless.

It takes a long while before you finally have the energy to ask Josuke to roll over. He does, sliding out of you with a slick squelching sound, his cum dripping down your thighs. Your whole body aches all over, memories of the previous night combined with your morning debauchery. Even so, Josuke’s cheeky grin as he stares up at your stretching form fills you with affection.

“You’re beautiful,” He croons in that greasy way of his. As long as you’ve been together, his sincerity still feels like he’s just buttering you up. It’s awfully endearing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” You tease, slapping him on the shoulder and willing yourself to go wash up. If Josuke’s to be off all day, a nice, hot bath should get you ready for anything else he has in store for you. His pretend pout turns into a mischievous grin as you grab a towel from the dresser drawer. As soon as you see his expression, you violently shake your head, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on!” Josuke calls after you as you quickly exit the room. You wish you had some sort of spray bottle you could shoo him away with. He trails behind you, giving you a sharp slap to the ass just before you slip into the bathroom.

“How long has it been since we did it in the shower?” He asks, disheartened. As you lean against the bathroom door, you think back. How long had it been? A mere moment later, you roll your eyes and toss the towel you held to the side. Josuke’s shit-eating grin greets you the moment you open the door.

Maybe one more round won’t hurt.

*all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.

[mlm-writer]

Fuck the Pain Away (Jaskier x M!Reader)

Pairing: Julian Alfred Pankratz (Jaskier/Dandelion) x Top Male Reader (NOT trans-friendly) Rating: Explicit Words: 1833 POV: Second Summary: After Geralt is a dick on that mountain, Jaskier just needs something to feel better. Luckily for him, you are there to fuck the pain away.  Notes: I just needed to give him some justice (and dick) after that episode.  Tags: Some angst, alcohol, blowjob, facefucking, deepthroating, anal sex, loud sex, rough sex, dirty talk, anal creampie and Jaskier has a praise kink 

EDIT: Sequel is here 

A tavern without a bard was often boring to you, but it was nothing compared to a tavern with a bard that would only sing sad ballads and bitter songs. The mood was terrible, but no one seemed to do anything about the half-weeping twink in the middle of the tavern. They all must have been regulars as they seemed to know him, judging by the pitiful stares. You had been here for the better of an hour and still not a single good song. A sigh left you, before you stood up and walked over to the twink in sparkly clothes. 

“Oh bard, you must be so tired,” you announced as you put a hand on his shoulder and offered him a kind smile, slowly prying his lute from him. He looked at you, eyes scanning over you. You did not comment on it. “I think you should take a rest and rehydrate.” With a lute in one hand, you dragged the bard to the bar, sitting him down and taking a seat next to him. “Barkeep, mead for me and the sad bard, please.”

You gave him a smile as you put the lute down next to you. He did not seem pleased, but not a word came from him. You drank in silence. It took him a lot of drinks to get a little tipsy. You noticed, because he was suddenly very affectionate. “The world needs more good men like you,” he whined as he rested his head on your shoulder. You chuckled and threw an arm around him. You held him close as he drank the last of his mead. “Bar…”

“Actually, I think you have had enough.” You took the cup from his hand and placed it on the bar. “You have a room here, right?” The bard nodded. “Ok, I’ll help you up.” You supported him as you made your way to the stairs and up to his room. As you walked, you realised he was not hammered at all and yet he kept you in a tight grip. The unnamed bard did not let you go as you tried to drop him on the bed. He pulled you along until you were both lying there in a tangled mess. You chuckled as he nuzzled the exposed skin of your neck. “Before you attempt to jump on my dick, why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Jaskier.” “Do you want to know mine?” “Not really.” “Ok.” 

Jaskier suddenly got a lot more energetic as he climbed on top of you. “Now can I jump on your dick or not?” You shrugged and nodded. Who were you to not fuck away the pain of a gorgeous man like him? You had thought you would be taking the lead on this, but Jaskier had your breeches down to your knees in no time and was hungrily sucking on your cock like it would spill immortality juice. You moaned and put your hand into his hair, fingers clenching everytime your cock went past his mouth and into his throat. Jaskier took your cock out of his mouth and mouthed at your balls. “Could you maybe… you know?” You pulled his head up by his hair, raising a brow, prompting him to be more specific. He stuttered a little before taking a deep breath, apparently settling on just being blunt and forthcoming about his desires. “I want you,” he pointed at you to emphasise his point, ��� to use my mouth”, pointing at his mouth, “like a hole to fuck and make me gag.” 

You laughed, turning him red like a good apple. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just no one has ever said it like that to me, ever.” He reached for your hand and tried to pull it away, but you tightened your grip and pushed him down to your hard length. “But don’t worry little bard, I will give you exactly what you want. How could I say no to such a pretty boy like you?” He moaned as you forced him down on your cock. You put a second hand on his head, guiding his mouth over your length, sometimes holding him down. After a few times making him gag as you held him down, you pulled him up and off your cock. He gasped, spit dripping off his lips. You wiped a little away with your thumb as you smiled at him. “Now I’m gonna push my cock all the way inside this whorish mouth and I want you to stick your tongue out and lick my balls. Think you can do that?” The pretty bard nodded, whimpering. One glance down showed he was hard as a rock. His cock was threatening to rip open his pretty clothing. You decided to let him suffer a little longer. Jaskier had his mouth open and was dripping spit onto your glistening length. You guided him down, shushing him and patting his head as you slowly pushed into his throat. He gagged and you held him still until you could push further. “That’s it, now stick your tongue out.” He did as he was told and tough it wasn’t the most gracious licking of your balls, the thought that your entire cock was jammed in his mouth and throat made it hot anyway. 

When you noticed him struggling more, you let him go and he raised his head on his own, coughing and heaving as his mouth was finally free. “Grab the bottle from my bag, will you?” You looked to your left and saw a bag on the floor next to you. You noticed a glass bottle inside and held it up. Jaskier nodded and held his hand out for it. He pulled his breeches down and kicked them off. You were about to offer to open him up, but he grabbed your hands and put it on his head. “Please continue, while I prepare myself.” It took you a little off guard and you asked him if he was sure, offering to prepare him instead. Jaskier’s response was to take your cock back into his mouth on his own, moaning around it as he stuck a finger inside himself. The delicious feeling of the vibrations was enough to convince you. 

You could feel Jaskier’s every move, his moans in perfect sync with his fingers’ movements. You were leaking precum and Jaskier was sucking it out of you and swallowing it down. Every time you got close to the edge, Jaskier pulled off and looked at you with puffy lips and open mouth as he fingered himself open with your cock resting on his face. He really was going to make you cum so hard that you might pass out, you just knew it. The intention was everywhere on his face and in his eyes. 

When Jaskier finally considered himself stretched enough, he straddled you, your wet cock at his loosened opening. “Ready for the ride of your life?” He chuckled. You laughed at the way he was being overly dramatic and placed your hands on his hips. You hadn’t expected the previously moping bard to be this eager and active, but he appeared to be full of surprises. He lowered himself on your cock, letting out a luscious moan for you to enjoy along with the delectable sight of his mouth hanging just a little open while his eyes were closed. 

“Fuck, you are gorgeous,” you cursed as he rode the head of your cock, not taking in more quite yet. You helped him move, thrusting just a little so he wasn’t doing all of the work. Jaskier was clearly sensitive as he sang in ways that would not be socially acceptable down in the tavern. He fell forward, head resting on your chest as you put your hands on his ass and lifted it up far enough for you to thrust up into him. Jaskier was no longer moving, just moaning into your chest as he took your cock with ease. 

“Please, fuck me against a wall,” the bard suddenly moaned and the idea sent your whole mind reeling. You lifted him off you and helped him get up. Jaskier was unstable on his feet as you led him to the nearest clear wall and pushed him face first against it. You kissed the back of his neck, giving the flesh a playful bite. The pretty bard keened and stuck his perfect ass out. 

You slipped back inside, groaning as that perfect heat enveloped your cock once more. A growl escaped you, before you whispered into his ear. "Let's make the entire building shake, shall we?" The whiny moan that followed was enough confirmation and you fucked him in earnest, thrusting deep and making your skin slap together so hard that they could hear the sound through the entire floor. "You're such a treasure," you groaned as you pressed your body against his while you fucked him like a dog, "pretty voice, pretty face and," you squeezed his bottom, "the prettiest most fuckable arse in the continent." Jaskier moaned so loudly, you swore he had a praise kink. You pulled him away from the wall and against your own body. Your hands slid down and you lifted him up by his knees. Jaskier folded almost in half as you lifted him up and down on your cock. 

"Oh fuck you're such a fucking stud, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jaskier sang the praises of your cock. He was a nuisance to anyone in the building for sure, but you didn't care. Right now the only thing you could care about was the way his tight hole gripped your cock as you bounced him up and down. When your arms got tired, you walked over to the bed and dropped him. Jaskier positioned himself on all fours, taking your cock with so much ease and eagerness, you wouldn't be able to last much longer. 

"I want to fill you up with my seed," you groaned as you grabbed Jaskier by his hips to fuck him harder towards his orgasm. 

"Yes, please, tell me your name. I want to sing it to the whole town while you fill up my butthole." You told him your name, grabbed a little tighter, fucked a little harder. Jaskier sang your name as your nails dug into his skin and you pressed deep in him, unloading there. You grabbed his cock as you came, stroking and making him cum too. The bard's whole body trembled through orgasm until you milked him dry. You collapsed next to each other. Almost immediately, Jaskier came crawling into your arms, snuggling into your chest and holding you like you were about to leave the second you got to cum. 

"I can stay the night," you offered without looking at him. Jaskier hummed approvingly. You were no witcher with white hair and yellow eyes, but right now, you were exactly was Jaskier needed. 

“You can also stay forever.”

[adelaidedrubman]

20. Using a ouija board

For Jestiny and John?

thank you lydia ily this one was so fun to write for them!!

wordcount: 2.3k (they literally can't do anything fucking efficiently)

pairing: john x jestiny

warnings: just a lil religious blasphemy

“Did you even attempt to make an appropriate selection for the evening?”

Jestiny pinched her brows together and pushed her bottom lip out to give a look of mock confusion to the man glaring at her from her place standing in his doorway before looking down and smoothing a hand over the fabric of her skirt, pressing fingers along the hemline to show it fell in place just at her knees. “Whatcha mean?” she asked with an overly innocent rising inflection, looking back to meet eyes alight with icy blue fury. “This is the most conservative dress I own, John.”

“You know very well that’s not what I’m referring to,” he replied with barely restrained hostility rumbling from behind gritted teeth. “I’m referring,” he pointed a tattooed finger to the box held propped at her hip. “To that.”

She followed his point with another curious cock of her head. “You asked me to bring a board game.”

“That is not a board game,” he spat back, cheeks growing adorably pink with irritation. “I asked, very politely, for you to bring a nice, family friendly game to play with my family, on the first night you meet them,” he said with an angry wave of his arms in emphasis. “And you brought a fucking ouija board.”

“It is a board game,” she insisted with a huff, finally stepping through the door.

“It is a worthless, sacrilegious scam, that I’m almost certain you brought just to distress me. Not a board game,” he replied, pacing along the hardwood floors to follow her as she made herself at home in the ranch, fists balled with tension at his sides. “Board games are neutral, inoffensive activities like Monopoly. Why the hell couldn’t you have brought something like that?”

“It’s October,” she answered with a shrug, throwing the game on the dining room table. “It’s festive. Besides, I fuckin’ hate Monopoly.”

“It’s not festive, it’s blasphemous.”

“It’s a game.”

“It’s a symbol of false spirituality and a rejection of the divine, not a game.”

“It’s fuckin’ made by Hasbro!” she shouted back, finally beginning to match his irritation in earnest as she slammed a palm onto the table.

“Could you just take it up to my bedroom and hide it?” he asked with clear exacerbation. “My brothers and sister are going to be here within fifteen minutes.”

Jessie glanced suspiciously at the clock sitting on the mantle above the crackling fire. “Fifteen minutes? You said dinner was at 6:30.”

“Yes, and it got you to waltz in just before 6:45, didn’t it?” he hummed back with a snide smile. “Now could you please get that thing out of sight? I’m happy to continue arguing with you over the finer points of what does and doesn’t count as a board game at a later time, but I’d rather not find out Joseph’s opinion on the matter.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she grumbled.

“If we could also avoid language like that for the next —”

“You are doing,” she interrupted with another slap against the table, “A very bad job at convincing me your little Bible group isn’t a cult,” she said with a more casual raise of her eyebrow. “You’re seriously worried Big Brother is gonna get mad at you for having a fucking children’s game?”

“This may seem odd to you, since you apparently have no concept of social norms, but most families across religious denomination would be a little taken aback by someone they’re meeting for the first time bringing a ouija board to family game night,” he replied with fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, finally running a hand down his face to give her a more desperate look of pleading. “Could you please, just for tonight, try to make a good impression?”

Jessie sank teeth lightly into her lip in nervous contemplation, feeling a quick, uncharacteristic twist of guilt in her stomach at the seriousness of his tone.

“I’ll tell ya what,” she said, leaning in closer to smooth a thumb over his face to brush away the creases of tension herself, “I will be absolutely goddamn irreproachable if you play it with me real quick.”

“I am not going to waste my time playing your sinful little pretend ghost game,” he responded, doing his best to coat the words with malice even as he leaned into her reassuring touches.

“I promise you won’t get cast down into hell the moment you touch it,” she teased with a little nuzzle against the soft skin of his neck before she pulled back to turn towards the table and open the box, taking out the board. “See? I’m still here.”

“How unfortunate,” he cooed sarcastically. “Put that up before I decide to change that myself.”

“Only if you play it with me first.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Just for a little bit,” she whined, setting the planchette in place. “It’s almost Halloween.”

“I don’t care.”

“What happened to ‘saying yes’ to shit?”

“That refers to salvation, not its exact opposite.”

“Three questions,” she offered with palms pressed together in pleading. “Let’s just ask it three questions, then I’ll get rid of it and be on my best behavior all night.”

John glanced anxiously between the redhead and the clock, seeming to weigh his options. “Up it to being on a respectable person’s best behavior instead of your own, and I’ll oblige.”

She rolled her eyes, but nodded along nonetheless. “Deal,” she agreed, sitting and pulling her chair up to the table. “Sit over there across from me,” she instructed while placing fingertips lightly against the plastic pointer.

He gave a long, exaggerated sigh in frustration as he obeyed, taking a seat and raising his hands to place his fingers next to hers.

“Good,” she acknowledged with a nod. “Who do you want to speak to?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, who do you want to summon?” she asked in follow up. “Who from the other side would you like to speak to?”

He gave her another cutting glare. “No one.”

“Well we have to call someone,” she insisted. “Who’s someone in your life who’s passed?”

“Even if your little parlor trick could summon them, there is absolutely no one in my life who has died that I’d be interested in having a conversation with.”

It was Jessie’s turn to nervously eye the ticking clock, keeping in mind she really should only push the man so far tonight. “Fine,” she groaned. “We’ll just ask to speak to any spirits here with us. I’m sure there must be someone out there you’ve pissed off bad enough to haunt you,” she teased. “Now close your eyes.”

“I’m not falling for that,” he spat back, leaning forward. “You’re just going to open yours and move it wherever you want.”

She rolled her own eyes again before closing them. “Don’t blame me when it doesn’t work then,” she said with a shrug.

“Oh, how convenient, your supposedly supernatural trick doesn’t work when I take away your —”

“Spirits from beyond!” she shouted to cut him off, screwing her eyes shut tighter. “Is there anyone out there who can hear us?”

Jessie heard a few huffing breaths from John fill the silence before he spoke. “What do you know, it isn’t working. What a surprise.”

“You have to give it a minute,” she complained without opening her eyes. “Especially for the first question, they might be working up the power to —”

“If your plan is to run out time until my family arrives, just know that I’m keeping an eye on my watch and the moment the clock strikes 6:55 I’m tearing your little Halloween toy off this table regardless of how many questions you may —”

John’s words cut off with the sudden movement of the piece beneath their fingertips in the middle of his rant. Jessie gave a raise of her eyebrows without opening her eyes as she paused in the silence, then pressed her fingers down firmer against the plastic to hold it where it had settled.

“Yes,” she muttered upon opening her eyes to read the word visible in the circular window of the planchette, turning up to face John with a crooked smirk. “Hey, how you like that for ‘the Power of Yes?’”

“Congratulations, you managed to move it the two centimeters to the very obvious word you wanted with your eyes closed. I’m simply astounded by your sleight of hand,” he droned sarcastically.

“You ask the second question then,” she replied, closing her eyes again without delay and drumming her fingers along the plastic as she lightened their pressure. “Somethin’ harder than yes or no, since you think I’m cheating.”

“Whatever moves this along,” he agreed with audible annoyance, taking another deep breath. “What is your name?”

Jessie nodded with approval at the question, allowing another moment of silence as the indicator sat still atop the board.

“Spell the letters out for me as they go,” she demanded hurriedly upon the plastic sliding along glossed cardboard once again.

She heard another melodramatic sigh from the man as the planchette settled on the first letter. “P...” he reported obediently nonetheless, “A... Z... U... Z... U...”

She counted to twenty seconds in her head in pause following the last letter, finally opening her eyes once it was clear the piece would remain there. “Pazuzu?” she asked with a curious crinkle of her nose. “That’s a kinda weird name.”

“Of course it is, it’s gibberish. Much harder to move it where you want it for a whole name, hm?” he taunted.

“It’s not complete gibberish,” she protested. “I mean, it’s pronounceable. And doesn’t it sound a little familiar? Like maybe you’ve heard it in a story or something...”

“Can we just get this last question over with so we can have a nice dinner?”

“Right away, your majesty,” she grumbled as she closed her eyes again. “Same deal. Your question.”

He huffed again to show his annoyance at the indignity of having to play along. “Where are you now?” he asked with mocking breathiness.

His tone dropped to normal speaking voice again as he spelled out the letters the planchette paused on. “H… E… L… L...”

Jessie counted to twenty again before opening her eyes, just in time to see John jerk his hands back from the board.

“Alright,” he hissed, scooting his chair back with a squeal of the legs against the hardwood, “I think that’s more than enough of the occult for tonight.”

“Wait!” she called, keeping her fingers pressed to the plastic piece as she huddled closer around it. “I just have one more question for it,” she explained as she looked up and down dramatically between the man directing a scathing look at her and the board.

“Spirits,” she began without acknowledging the scowl her partner wore, “Do you think John is pretty?” she asked, leaning in closer towards the table, staring at the immobile planchette, slanting her brows down to give it a disbelieving look. “Captain Howdy, that isn’t very nice,” she chimed, finally giving a snort of laughter that bubbled up to a full bark as she looked back up towards the man still staring at her with malice narrowed eyes.

She struggled to reign in the heavy laughter shaking through her before finally speaking clearly again. “You’ve never seen The Exorcist?” she asked with another small chuckle.

“Not within the past decade, I’m afraid,” he replied with further narrowing eyes and tightly clenched jaw.

“Oh man, we gotta do a movie night next,” she said, reaching over the table to pat his arm in camaraderie. “I thought you’d get it on question two.”

He shirked away from the touch of her hand as he shot up from the chair. “I knew you were moving it yourself.”

“The fake out with askin’ the other person to close their eyes at the beginning always sells it,” she said with a wink, leaning back casually in her chair. “All muscle memory. Nothin’ to be scared of.”

“I wasn’t,” he insisted too quickly and emphatically.

“I think you were,” she sang teasingly.

“The only thing I’m afraid of in this situation,” he spat back as he leaned over the table towards her with a snarl, “is Joseph’s reaction if he finds that instead of my lovely girlfriend and I having a nice dinner set on the table, the Godless sinner I’m fornicating with has set up a —”

A chime of the doorbell interrupted him, and Jessie saw his eyes grow wide with genuine panic, followed by a quick swipe of his hand to clear the board and box from the table into arms. He marched without delay toward the door, not even fully stopping his stride as he casually tossed the entire set into the roaring fire as he passed by the fireplace.

“Hey!” she called as she finally rose from her own seat to scurry after him, rushing to get in place beside him as he stood ready to answer the door. “You better buy me a new one of those. Same model, too.”

“You should have hid it when I asked,” he ground out from behind gritted teeth as he forced a wide, showy smile to twist along his face. “Or simply brought Monopoly in the first place.”

She gave him a last quick sneer before she curled her own lips into an artificial smile as he reached for the door, remembering her promise to be well behaved and — somewhat regrettably, at the moment — ultimately considering herself ever a woman of her word.

“Nobody fucking likes Monopoly,” she whispered with lips barely moving from their place glued into a friendly grin and a sweet flutter of her eyelashes towards the opening door, bracing for a meeting she found much more frightening that any possible experience with a ouija board.

[litwitlady]

Let’s Paint the Town

Read on AO3.

Happy Saturday! Straight smut ahead.

They have been playing at sex for hours. Slowly working themselves into a first moan and then backing off. Some conversation breaking through their rhythm and demanding their attention. Everything is still so new, so happy. And there’s so much to say to each other now that they’ve finally started talking.

Michael shifts his weight down Alex’s body, pausing to lick at his sternum. Knowing that his curls have fallen across Alex’s nipples, teasing them lightly as he pretends to pay attention elsewhere. Alex’s ribcage expands under his hands and Michael spreads his fingers, enjoying the way Alex’s ribs press into his palms.

Moving down to the soft hairs at his navel, Michael blows gently at them and Alex whimpers. Whispering a quiet little fuck. So Michael rewards him by nipping around the edges and licking into his belly button the first time Alex’s hips buck. A playful demonstration of pleasures yet to come.

Alex’s cock butts into Michael’s chin as he continues his slide downwards. They both laugh and Alex’s fingers immediately weave into Michael’s hair, hoping he knows what’s next. But Michael has other ideas and sits back on his heels. Beneath him, Alex’s thighs are spread wide, cock fully erect, and nipples blood red. He runs his hands along the inside of those beautifully splayed thighs and bites at his lip. ‘Let’s play a game.’

‘No. No games. My god, just let me come.’ Alex frowns at him, frustrated beyond belief. ‘We’ve been at this since we woke up.’

Michael smiles down at him. ‘I’ve been at this since well before you woke up.’ He flattens his palms on Alex’s stomach and glides his hands back up his body. Fingernails dragging over Alex’s nipples again and again until Alex throws his head back into his pillow and arches his back into Michael’s touch. Begging for so much more than Michael is willing to give him at the moment.

‘Why didn’t you wake me earlier?’ Alex’s breathing is short and shallow. Chest starting to heave with need. 

Bending over, Michael runs his tongue from the base of Alex’s cock to the wet, glistening tip - tasting him. Alex moans and Michael has to fight to hold his hips still. ‘The moonlight hit you just right. Slanted rays running across your lips and your chest and your hips. You were gorgeous. Hair a mess and mouth slightly open. I just watched you breath and jerked myself off.’

Alex groans and glares down at him. ‘Fuck off, Guerin. You’re not playing fair.’

 He chuckles and laps at Alex’s tip again, swallowing the sweet bead of moisture. ‘That’s why I’m suggesting a fun little game. Something to make you come so hard tears streak down your face and the neighbors think their evil fucking rooster has been slaughtered when they hear you cry out.’

‘Stop about the rooster already.’ Alex rolls his eyes but licks his lips with anticipation. ‘What’s the game?’

The evil grin that spreads across Michael’s face instantly sends a shiver down Alex’s spine. ‘I want you to sing for me.’

Alex’s breath hitches. He swallows around the newly formed lump in his throat. ‘Sing for you?’

‘Yes, baby. Sing for me.’ Michael takes the head of Alex’s dick into his mouth and sucks roughly at the sensitive skin. Every muscle in Alex’s body pulls taut as he fists at the cotton sheets underneath him. Keening high and then moaning low at Michael’s practiced ministrations. ‘Like that but with actual words.’

After several gasping breaths, Alex shuts his eyes and asks, ‘What song?’ The faster he agrees to Michael’s game the sooner he gets his orgasm.

Michael removes his mouth from Alex and considers. Several songs pass through his Alex-clouded mind, but he lands on the perfect suggestion. ‘Would You Come Home.’ The idea of Alex attempting to sing that song while simultaneously trying to hold himself together as Michael pulls him apart with his mouth is too good to resist. Just the thought is enough to push Michael closer to his own climax.

Alex doesn’t say anything at first - doesn’t agree or disagree. Lies staring at the ceiling letting the idea play out in his head. It’s a challenge and he really loves a challenge. ‘What are the rules?’

He smirks and leans back on his knees. ‘Anytime you stop singing, I stop sucking. Or whatever fun activity I’m up to.’ He winks. ‘And you don’t come until the last word is sung.’

But Alex shakes his head, pushing up onto his elbows. ‘Too easy. Make it hurt, Guerin.’ The way Alex’s pupils dilate his eyes into total darkness forces a loud exhale from Michael.

He gulps and ups the ante. ‘No touching yourself at all. And I have to come before you. No matter how long it takes me.’ He bites his bottom lip and goes in for the kill. ‘And if you flub up the lyrics, you start over from the beginning.’

A slow Cheshire cat grin stretches Alex’s lips from ear to ear, teeth showing and eyes brightening. ‘Loser spends the rest of the week on his knees whenever asked. Deal?’

Michael nods. And with how much Alex loves a public blowjob, he looks forward to the week ahead of them. ‘Sing, baby.’

And Alex does. Full-bodied tonal rebellion as Michael works at him - hand thrusting up to meet his mouth half-way down Alex’s painfully throbbing cock. Not a misplaced lyric throughout the entire first verse. It infuriates Michael. Pushing past his gag reflex, he takes Alex fully inside him. Humming as Alex fucks into the back of his throat. 

But he just keeps singing around every filthy, goddamn moan. 

Halfway through the chorus, Michael changes his game plan and gets dirty. Abandoning Alex’s cock entirely, he sucks at his balls momentarily but moves down to tongue at his taint in earnest. Meanwhile, his thumb presses against Alex’s hole, stretching at his rim un-lubed. Alex hisses at the pressure and falters - screwing up the lyrics. Having to stop in order to take multiple shuddering breaths. Michael smiles and nips at the touch-starved flesh at the bottom of Alex’s ass and then pulls away.

‘Got you.’ And Michael is smiling until he looks up at Alex. Sweat dripping along the curves of his hips, nipples strained and aching to be touched. Hands stretched over his head as he white knuckles the headboard - eyes squeezed shut. Bottom lip swollen beneath the bite of his own teeth. Hair a total mess, sprayed wildly across his pillow. So fucking beautiful that Michael has to blink back tears. He admits defeat to himself silently and grabs the nearest tube of lube.

Alex winces the moment the cold lube touches his dick. Michael’s slick fingers pumping at him. ‘What are you doing? Game’s not over. I’m losing.’

‘Nope. I lost. Took one stupid look at you and fell in love all over again.’ He grabs Alex’s fingers and works lube onto them as well. ‘And if you aren’t inside of me before the next five minutes are up, I will never forgive myself.’

Sitting up for better leverage, Alex reaches between Michael’s thighs and palms at his balls before sliding his fingers up against Michael’s opening. Slipping the first finger inside with very little fanfare. ‘I love you so fucking much.’ He adds a second finger soon after, scissoring as deep inside Michael as he can reach. Michael’s head falls back and Alex leans in to suck at his throat. 

Before Alex can add a third finger, Michael presses his shoulders back down into the mattress and takes matters into his own hands. Grabbing the base of Alex’s dick and positioning it at his opening. Alex just looks on with liquid-lust eyes as Michael slides down the full length of him with a single harsh exhale. They catch each other’s eye as Michael begins to ride Alex in earnest. Bouncing so hard on Alex’s cock that the slap of their skin is louder than both their breathy moans combined. 

Michael keeps hold of Alex’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his flesh. And they fuck with reckless abandon. No rhythm whatsoever. Alex wrapping his fingers around Michael’s cock and fisting him into moving faster. Curls bobbing as they thrust together - Alex’s hips leaving the bed and Michael’s ass clenched and begging around Alex’s dick. Both their orgasms releasing at the same time - Alex sitting up to hug Michael through the violence of their climax. Bodies slick with sweat and trembling together. 

Eventually, Michael pulls himself off Alex and collapses back onto the bed. They lie side-by-side staring up at the ceiling fan spinning in lazy circles. Still trying to calm their racing hearts. But then one of them starts to laugh. And the other joins until they are both giggling in the afterglow of their spent happiness.

‘I think we both won.’ Alex turns into Michael, hand kneading at his hip. 

Michael smiles softly up at him and nods. ‘Mutual blowjobs all week. Let’s paint the whole fucking town, baby.’

And they do.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 10- The White Violin Part 1

Summary: Vanya’s finally come to realize her full power, taking the Academy with her. Now it’s up to the Hargreeves siblings and you, to find and stop her from causing the apocalypse. Unfortunately you run into a bit of trouble along the way.

Masterlist- where all the other chapters are⚔️

Warning: Violence, Y/N is a stabby all around badass so it gets bloody 

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11

Suddenly another wave of energy seems to pulse through the house, shaking the very foundation. Your eyes snap up to the sound of crumbling paint and pieces of the ceiling starting to crack and actively deteriorate. In an instant you’ve shot to your feet, turning your head to the upstairs balcony when you hear footsteps running on the wooden floor. You can hear Klaus and Diego calling out for Grace, but their shouting is soon silenced by more rubble clattering to the ground, shaking the house once again.

You race up the stairs to the second floor balcony where you just heard the distinct voices of Klaus and Diego. But by the time you get up there, both of them have disappeared. You look around the area in confusion, as more and more of the building cracks and breaks around you. Without warning a giant chuck of ceiling breaks free from the rest of its placement, hurling itself down at you. You dodge it, sliding on the tiled floor in the process. When another chunk falls down on your shoulder, knocking you harshly onto the ground, fortunately when your face is temporarily pressed to the wooden floorboards. You catch the scent of Diego and Klaus, their trail leading out to an open window. That’s now blocked by flaming debris of wood and whatever else. Dammit.

Your eyes scan the wall, finding another window you make a break for it, throwing your arm in front of your face to better prepare for impact. A moment later you feel a pressure and then tiny shards of glass flying all around you, as you jump out the window. For a few seconds you blissfully free-fall in the cool night air, before the hard concrete gives you a rude awakening. Darkness. When you open your eyes about 10 seconds later, you gasp in pain as your hip, rip-cage, and the left side of your skull moves around to fall back into its original placement. You watch as your previously broken arm, fuses back into place with a distinctly gory bob sound. With no time to spare you jump to your feet, dodging more pieces of the dying Academy.

When you make it round the corner, the whole entirety of the Academy has been reduced to rubble and flames. “First mom. Now Pogo. Where the hell his Y/N?!” Shouts Diego on the verge of tears. You run through the fallen bricks to the sound of his voice, finally spotting everyone, still alive and well, for the most part. “Diego!” You scream, racing over to him, he looks up at you with a downcast face before it turns into a relieved frown.

A second later, Five is jumping over a destroyed couch, “Guys! This is it. The apocalypse is still on. The world ends today.” He announces quickly, getting closer to the five of you, who all stare at him in troubled confusion. “I thought you said it was over.” Wonders Luther. Five starts to unfold a newspaper, “I was wrong, okay? This newspaper, I found it in the future the day I got stuck. The headline hasn’t changed.” He explains wide eyed.

“No, that doesn’t mean anything. The time could’ve been altered since that newspaper came out this morning.” Diego says, denying everything Five is telling you guys, not wanting to believe in the fact that the world just might end after all.

“You’re not listening to me. When I found it, I assumed this place came down along with everything else. But here we are. The Moon’s still shining, the Earth is still in one piece, but not the Academy.” Klaus suddenly snatches the crinkled newspaper from Five’s hand, “I’m confused.” He states baffled, Five furrows his brows in frustration, “Then listen to me, you idiot! Vanya destroys the Academy before the apocalypse. I thought Harold Jenkins was the cause, but he was just the fuse. Vanya is the bomb.” He exclaims pausing for a moment to let the information sink in, “Vanya causes the apocalypse.”

Right after Five finishes laying down the hard truth about Vanya and the apocalypse, you look up to hear the chopping of a helicopters blades. A giant spotlight is then intrusively beaming on all of you. “We have to find Vanya. Regroup at the Super Star. Go!” Shouts Luther over the blaring noise, you don’t have to think twice, as you grab Diego’s hand. The two of you bolting for the nearby bowling alley.

——

All of you stand around a table at the bowling alley, the atmosphere is tense, everyone's emotions all over the place as to what just occurred and what to do next. Luther stares at the floor with a hard and concentrated expression, as you look up to observe his face from your spot next to Diego. You suddenly narrow your eyes at him, your jaw clenching in growing irritation. Diego’s gaze snaps over to your sudden tenseness, his eyebrows rising in suspicion when your fists start to clench.

“You drugged me you dick!” You bitterly snap at Luther, everyone’s faces go from yours to Luther’s rightfully wide eyed one. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing appears to come out as he just stands there awkwardly avoiding everyone’s prying eyes. You let out an agitated snort, standing up from your seat next to Diego, Luther takes a step back while studying your hostile movements.

“I have half a mind to slap the ever present dumbass out of you, but I can’t promise that I’ll be able to stop myself after that.” You state through clenched teeth, pausing for a moment to collect yourself from your rising anger.

“I..uh...Y/N, I didn’t kn..”

“No! Shut up, your speaking privileges have been revoked, so listen here. First you put Vanya in a goddamn cage, then you forcefully stop everyone from getting her out, and then when I try to help her...you fucking drug me. Were you wacked to many times on your head as a child, because if you can’t find your common sense I’ll frickin’ help you find it.” You aggressively state at a visibly sweating Luther, he takes another small step back, honestly afraid that you might indeed hold true to your word. “I don’t know what kinda thought process you had when you were thinking that any of this was a good idea, but clearly it has given us a one way ride into the fucking apocalypse and I did not ask you to share your tickets.” Diego suddenly reaches up to grip your left arm before you’re able to move out of reach and bitch-slap the stupid right out of Luther. Your head quickly turns to look down at Diego, “I’m not...I’m not going to hurt him D, at least not yet.” You tell him, whispering the last part with quiet malice. Diego sends you a sympathetic nod, still hurting from the destructive and violent demise of Grace.

“I know, and you have every right to be angry, as do the rest of us. But, Y/N this isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Your brows furrow in frustration as you anxiously bite your lip. Slightly taken aback by Diego’s ability to keep his shit together, well at least for the time being. You still have no idea that not even ten minutes ago he was almost in tears when he couldn’t find you in the rubble of the fallen Umbrella Academy.

You let out a tired sigh, looking down at the floor for a second before bringing your troubled gaze back up to a distraught Luther. “You’re lucky Diego’s here.” You warn him with a glare as you sit down next to Diego once again, “I’d throw a bowling ball right at your fucking face.” You growl at him, crossing your arms and legs in annoyance while leaning into Diego’s side. He puts a gloved hand on your thigh in an act of earnest comfort, your tenseness falters ever so lightly as you scowl at the dirty bowling alley floor. The others keep to themselves, everyone shrinking into their own worlds to think for a couple minutes. While you continue to lean into Diego’s warm side and brood like a troubled lighthouse keeper waiting for her husband to come back from the sea. The atmosphere between the six of you still considerably awkward and stressed.

“Look, I hate to be the one to say this, but everyone needs to prepare.” Carefully starts Luther, making up a new plan on the spot, as all of your heads turn to look at him.

“For what?” Asks Diego.

“To do whatever it takes to stop Vanya.” Allison wacks Luther on the chest before he can finish, he looks at her offended, “We may not have a choice Allison.” He snaps without any real anger towards her. “Bullshit. There’s always options.” Adds Diego, sitting opposite of Luther in a bowling alley chair.

“Yeah, like what?” Grumbles Five, Diego looks down for a second to think, “I don’t know?” You roll your eyes, no one is getting anywhere fast at this rate. “Whatever we happen to decide in the next three years. We need to find Vanya.” You tell them, standing up from your chair and crossing your arms, trying to think of something that could work.

“Or...here. Look at this.” Says Klaus, opening up the newspaper he’s been reading, wider for everyone to see, you all crowd around him. “That’s right. Her concert is tonight.” Says Diego, referring to the obvious newspaper ad, a big colored picture of Vanya with her violin, as well as the time and place of the concert.

You hear footsteps approaching from behind, “Hello. I hate to intrude, but my manager says if you’re not here to bowl, you gotta leave.” Says the bowling alley employee, a tad bit passive aggressively if you’re being honest. 

“Who’s turn?” You deadpan, as Luther grabs a ball, chucking it across the lanes, evidently making a lucky strike. The lady turns around to leave, unsure of how to respond to that.

Allison quickly scribbles down something in her notes. She’s our sister. “We’re the only ones capable of stopping this. We have a responsibility to Dad.” States Luther, of course he’d bring Reginald into this.

“To Dad? I’ve heard enough about...” Diego snaps as Luther stands up, interrupting him, “He sacrificed everything to bring us back together.”

You want to argue against him, but oddly enough, he’s right. “I’m with Luther on this one. We can’t give her a chance to fight back. There are billions of lives at stake. We’re past trying to save just one.” Five tells all of you, it’s a terrible and tragic thing to hear, but this is the whole world or Vanya. No one ever said the right decision would be the easiest one.

“Hey, you know, guys, uh...maybe I could help.” Klaus randomly announces, Luther jumping at the chance to turn him down, “Now is not the time Klaus.” He says sternly, not wanting to deal with Klaus’ usual nonsense. “Let him finish.” Retorts Diego, waving Luther off. “He saved my life today.” Finishes Diego, not what you thought he would say, clearly neither did Luther, who questions Klaus about it.

“Yeah, yeah I did....take credit for it. In fact, the real hero...was Ben.” All of you stare at Klaus doubtful, oddly enough you could have swore you heard a muffled reply to Klaus’ rambling. What the? You haven’t been able to hear Ben’s ghost since before Klaus’ addictions muddied up the connection to much, considering your senses are only able to hear Ben when Klaus is near. He’s literally a human Ouija board you swear.

“Today...listen. Today, he punched me in the face. And earlier at the house, he was the one who saved Diego’s life, not me.” Explains Klaus, he’s not lying, you’re truly intrigued now more then ever.

“You are unbelievable, Klaus.” Complains Luther, dumbfounded.

“You want proof, is that it? All right. I’ll give you proof.” Klaus then picks up a pink bowling ball, holding it in his two hands, getting ready to throw it, “All right, it’s showtime, baby. Catch!” He exclaims at the nearby empty space between Allison and a rack of bowling balls.

He throws the ball, it falling right past Allison as it makes a loud thud when it hits the floor. Luther is not amused one bit by Klaus’ shenanigans, in return for his rudeness, Klaus accidentally lets slip the fact that Luther was nicer before he got laid. Earning wide eyes from Allison and the rest of you, Luther snaps at Klaus to shut up, but he just makes it worse when adding in the part where it was an accident cause Luther was actually high.

Allison face is a mix of amazement and disappointment all in one as she abruptly turns around, walking away from rest of you, while Luther trails behind her trying to explain himself. You let them talk it out, as you sit down in one of the doubled side-by-side plastic chairs, choosing the empty spot next to Diego.  Klaus is in front of the both of you, Five in his own seat next to him. Out of nowhere, a random but incredibly bubbly plump lady and her son walk up to you, Diego, Klaus, and Five.

“Excuse me. But it’s my son, Kenny’s birthday today and...um..wouldn’t your son be happier playing with kids his own age?” She says expectantly, with the largest and most annoying of smiles, “Assuming it’s okay with you and your husband.” She asks you sweetly, looking between you, Diego, and Five. Klaus looks to the two of you with raised eyebrows as he covers his mouth to hide a muffled laugh, Diego focuses on her before turning to you with an agitated and puzzled glance.

You give her a tight lipped smile about to say some smart-ass remark when Five beats you to it, “I would rather chew off my own foot.” He growls through clenched teeth. The lady’s face falls as you look over at him with a fake frown, turning to this lady with an equally false beaming smile.

“Maybe some other time, he gets cranky when he doesn’t have his apple juice before 8 o’clock.” She gives you a knowing motherly nod, as she hastily turns around with her son, walking away from all of you. 

“Y/N what the hell was that shit.” Snaps Five as Klaus and Diego let out muffled laughter. You turn to him with a smirk, “What? You just missed out on an opportunity to make your first friend in 45 years.” He looks elsewhere with a sigh,”Yeah cause I need friends, you people are enough to handle already.”

Suddenly Five gets distracted by some swishing noise, getting up to check on it elsewhere in the facility. You, Klaus, and Diego don’t care enough to follow.

You slouch back in the small uncomfortable bowling alley seat, Diego leaning in close to your side with a mischievous grin. “If we had a kid, I hope they wouldn’t be like Five.” You look up at him, “If we had a kid like Five we’d have to just throw the whole kid away. And FYI, I just hope they aren’t like you when it comes to stubbornness.” You sass back, he gives you a half offended look. You just smile at him as he looks back adoringly at you, “Well I guess we won’t even need to have a wedding, that lady already confirmed you’re my wife so.” You snort at his remark, “Then if you happen to end up dead somewhere, do I get widow compensation money benefits to go along, cause I would love an apartment overlooking the city.” You ask him, giving him a playful nudge, Diego just shakes his head with a smile. “I’ll get us that apartment someday...its coming I promise.” He assures you, lightly poking your side, you just roll your eyes in reply.

He leans back, throwing an arm over your shoulder as the two of you look around the bowling alley for anything suspicious. You lean yourself closer into his side, enjoying this small moment of silent affection. “Just so the two of you know, I want to be invited to this wedding.” Adds Klaus out of nowhere, you glance over to him with a nod, “You can be the best man.” You tell him, his face instantly lights up, already thinking of some extravagant outfit and speech to have ready. Diego just chuckles at the two of you, thinking his own pleasant thoughts for that day. Hoping that it will eventually come to light, if the apocalypse doesn’t ruin everything first.

“All right, where’s Five?” Wonders Luther, walking back up to the three of you. 

“He left.” Says Diego, standing up again, you doing the same.

“Oh, for the love of...where’d he go?”

“Didn’t say.” You add, assuming it must of been important if he just teleported away without saying anything first. Or maybe he had to take a huge shit, but who knows.

“Well, we’re not waiting around for him. The concert starts in 30 minutes.” States Luther.

“All right, so what’s the plan?” Diego asks him, although you’re doubtful it’s going to be a good one. Luther pauses for a moment, “Well, I think that, uh.....we go to the Icarus Theater.” You cut in, “That’s a place....not a plan.” He opens his mouth to say something but decides otherwise.

“What? Is that all you got?” Accuses Diego, walking in closer to Luther, “Look, you wanna be Number One, fine, but you’re gonna have to get us on the same page, because right now, we’re all over the place.” Luther looks at Diego almost bored, clearly getting that he’s right, but never wanting to fully admit it, until now, “You’re right....We need a plan.”

As Luther is finishing up his sentence, your eyes snap up to the scent of ammunition, your nose locating the bullets like a shark smelling a drop of blood in the ocean. Your brows furrow as you squint your eyes to the darkly clad gas masked looking motherfuckers with guns, sneaking their way into the bowling alley. If they were trying to be subtle, mission sorely failed. They don’t look like they’re from around here, and you have a strong hunch they’re not here to bowl. You don’t even have time to warn anyone before these bastards start raining bullets like there’s no tomorrow, and quit literally there might not be one.

You take cover behind the bowling alley tables, these ones conveniently cover all the way to the floor, giving you and the rest of the Hargreeves a place to hide. “Who the hell are these guys?” Shouts Diego wide eyed, he’s sitting to your right, as Luther sits to your left.

“Maybe they’re here for Kenny’s birthday!” Yells Klaus, covering his ears from the intrusive racket. Your own ears are bounding with each gun that goes off, you’re quickly getting pissed. “No, I’m pretty sure they’re here for us!” Answers Luther, as more bullets continue to mercilessly search for their breathing targets. “The fuck do we do now? All I’ve got is my boot knife.” You tell the four of them, suddenly Diego jumps up, throwing a dagger into the chest of one of the weird masked guys. In the process the lights flip to night mode, neon lasers are flashing every which way. Luther stands up, launching a heavy bowling ball into one of them, knocking them out.

You stand up yourself, pulling your pencil-long silver dagger from out of your hidden boot pocket, Diego continues to throw his knives while Luther grabs more bowling balls, chucking them at the shooters. You jump up on the table in front of you, front flipping through the air and gracefully landing in a crouched position as you slash your dagger into the Achilles tendon of the closest masked shooter. Slitting it open in one clean motion, he instantly falls to the floor where you then throw your hands tightly around his neck and snap it with little effort. You dart to the left next, vaulting yourself onto the pool table. Your left hand holds you up as you swing your legs and body over the table, sucker punching your next target in the head with a powerful kick.

He falls to the ugly looking carpet with a thud, you flip backwards avoiding the bullets from his friend who’s to your right. He misses you, shooting his unconscious companion in the back, evidently killing him. That works for you, with no time to spare you launch yourself at him, grabbing his head from behind with your left arm. You roughly tilt it up, bringing your right arm over, slitting his throat wide open. He immediately falls to the floor, holding his opened throat as he gurgles, choking on his own blood.

When you look up again, the Hargreeves are racing down the bowling lanes, miraculously avoiding getting shot at, much to your help. Trying to give them a better chance at not getting holes punched into their sides, you lift up the side of the pool table with both of your hands. Lifting the whole thing up and off of the floor with ease, you then catapult it directly into the four masked assassins, severely injuring most of them. The loud gunfire around you slows a bit, taking the blessed opportunity before you, you race towards your friends in a blur. Sliding underneath the back of the alley like an action hero, and out into the other side.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 9: Revelations

by @dracusfyre

Since he knew he wouldn't be coming back to this apartment, provided as part of his cover, he packed up everything he couldn't bear to lose. There was one goodbye that he wanted to make before he disappeared, even though he knew it was risky. He was going to miss KT; ironically, he was the best partner Bucky had ever had and he would consider him a friend if it hadn't been for all of the, you know, lying. As he walked to his usual morning meetup, he had been thinking of various ways to say he was leaving and coming up with reasons why when he realized that there was a tall skinny black guy standing in KT’s spot, looking at his watch like he was waiting for someone.

“Blue Eyes?” The man said, looking up at Bucky, and Bucky nodded. “I’ll be working with you today, name’s John Johnson.” As Bucky stared at him in disbelief, the man sighed. “I swear to God I was born with it. Just call me JJ.”

“Ok. So where’s KT?” Bucky asked, and his stomach dropped when he saw the grim look on the man’s face.

“You didn’t hear? KT got shot last night on his way home from work,” JJ said, voice tight with anger. “Shot twice in the back. Cop said it was self-defense and that he had meth on him. He’s in intensive care right now.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Meth? No way,” Bucky said, stunned. “That’s bullshit.”

“Oh, we know.  Clearly a setup. The Boss just found out about it this morning and he is livid.”

Bucky started to ask if they knew who did it, but then his thoughts flashed back to what he’d told Stark weeks ago: those two won’t give up until they get back at the person who embarrassed them. And he knew exactly what had happened. “I want to see him,” Bucky said.

“Who, KT? They are only allowing family, which, you know,” JJ grimaced. “He doesn’t really have.”

“Right.” Bucky paced away, scrubbing his hands over his face. “What’s Stark doing about it?”

JJ shrugged. “He did say that no one was to go after the cop though. No vigilante shit. He was going to take care of the bastard himself.”

Bucky stared out over the street, busy with morning traffic. Where a few minutes ago there had been resigned determination, there was a big empty space; he'd felt nervous before but now he was completely calm. The top of his head and the tips of his fingers felt hot, though, and he knew that this calm wasn't going to last. “I gotta go,” he said, turning on his heel.

“You dodging out of work? Boss ain’t gonna like that!” JJ called after him as he strode away.

“Tell him he can’t fire me, I quit,” Bucky called back, not missing a step. He was halfway down the sidewalk when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him up short.

"Boss said you and KT were tight and warned me you might do something foolish," JJ said. "He said you needed to trust him to make it right."

Bucky shrugged off JJ's arm. "I'm not going after the cop that did this," he said impatiently. "Not yet, anyway. This is personal."

"Whatever you say, man," JJ said, holding his hands up and backing off. 

The calm lasted for the whole trip back to his home precinct, but behind it he could feel his anger building. It was a brittle, temporary, dangerous sort of calm, like the way that water drained away from the beach before the tsunami hit. He threw open the doors to the building and strode up to the desk officer. 

"I need to talk to Captain Pierce right now," he said evenly, and the desk officer frowned.

"He's not-"

"Tell him it's Detective James Barnes, and it's about Tony Stark," he said. "He'll make time for me."

 He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, making it clear that he had no intention of moving until the desk officer did what he asked. Sure enough, he watched as the officer made a phone call, then buzzed him in to the bull pen. He made his way through the officers without acknowledging any of the greetings from the people he knew, too intent on reaching Pierce. When he got to his captain's office, he had enough self control to close the door firmly instead of slamming.

Pierce frowned at him. "Barnes, what the hell are you-"

"What in the hell were Officers Rumlow and Rollins doing in Stark's territory?"

Pierce's eyebrows drew together. "What?"

"Last night, Rumlow, maybe Rollins too, shot my primary contact in Stark's organization in the back. So I'm asking you: what. The fuck. Were they doing anywhere in that borough, much less that neighborhood?"

"Watch your tongue, Barnes," Pierce rumbled. "I don't answer to you."

"Fine, I'll tell you. It was a hit," Bucky said bluntly. "The guy who was shot is the one that humiliated Rumlow on camera a few months ago. Remember? Went viral on TikTok and the department had to issue a press release about it? He should have lost his badge for that, but instead he was back out on the streets and looking for revenge!" Bucky realized he was shouting as Pierce's face grew even darker. 

"You better be careful what you say, son. Rumlow said he was responding to a call and the suspect was acting erratic, like he was high, and got violent. Rumlow defended himself."

"That's bullshit! I want to know why he was cleared for active duty!"

Pierce stood and slammed his hands down on his desk. "You need to calm the fuck down. For your information, there was a hearing, the union got involved, and the panel decided there wasn't any evidence of wrongdoing. He was cleared for active duty two weeks ago."

Bucky gaped at that, speechless. "No evidence of wrongdoing? He was caught on camera soliciting a bribe and demanding sex from prostitutes! And now he tried to murder someone! What is the department going to do about this?"

"There were no witnesses, and Rumlow said he was defending himself," Pierce said again, enunciating carefully so that Bucky would get the message that the conversation was over. "Unless you have evidence to prove otherwise, there's nothing to do about it."

"Then I quit."

It was Pierce's turned to be stunned speechless. "Quit? You can't quit, you are in the middle of the highest profile investigation this precinct has ever been a part of!"

"This precinct, and the entire NYPD, can go fuck itself," Bucky bit off. "I refuse to work for an organization that tolerates rapists and murderers like Rumlow."

Bucky turned and left, swinging Pierce's door open hard enough that it slammed into the wall and bounced off. The silence of the bull pen as he stormed out was satisfying; he wanted to yell and kick things and cause general mayhem but had too much dignity to make an ass of himself. He got back out on the sidewalk and took a deep breath of cold fall air, feeling like a weight had fallen from his shoulders. He put his hands in his pockets and felt his phone, which, like the apartment, had been provided for the assignment. He took it out and scrolled through the coded notes and surreptitious pictures he'd taken, weeks worth of information on Stark's network. It wasn't the same kind of hot lead like the information about Tony's AI, but it was still more bricks for the case the feds were building against Tony.

Bucky turned it over in his hands thoughtfully. Then he threw it under the wheels of a bus as it pulled up to curb, smiling when he heard it crunch, and started making his way back to Manhattan.

“Hey, copper,” Tony said warily, after his guards waved him through. The garage was echoingly empty, cleaned out of even the tool cabinets and work tables. Tony had been sitting at a card table frowning over a laptop when Bucky came in. "JJ said you quit." 

“First, I’m not a cop,” Bucky said with emphasis. "But I might know some stuff that a cop could theoretically know, if you're interested. Second, I did quit. I don't want to be your employee anymore," he said, willing Tony to understand what he was trying to say. "I'm a free agent now. Third, I'm in. All the way in. I wanna hear about the buy-in."

It took a moment for Tony to realize what he was trying to say, but once he did a smile bloomed on his face. "So you figured out what you wanted?"

"Yeah," Bucky said softly, echoing the smile. "Yeah, I did." He leaned over the table to kiss the smile on Tony's face -

"Oh hell, no," someone barked from a few feet away. Tony jumped and immediately looked guilty; Bucky looked up and saw Rhodes coming towards them, looking thunderous. "What did I say, Tony?"

"Rhodey, honey bear," Tony started, scrambling to his feet. "Listen-"

"I said don't sleep with the undercover cop,"  Rhodes said, pointing a finger at Rhodey. "Don't." 

"Yes, I know, but-" Tony started to retreat in the face of Rhodes' righteous fury.

"Wait, you knew I was an undercover cop?" Bucky said in disbelief.

They both stopped and stared at him, then glanced at each other. "Well, yeah," Tony said slowly. "I even said so when we first met."

"But - but," Bucky sputtered. "But you let me work for you!"

"Yeah?"

"Why?" 

At this point Tony looked at Rhodes for reinforcement, but the man shook his head and backed away. "I'm not getting in the middle of this."

Tony turned back to Bucky. "Well, I, um..."

"Thought you were cute," Rhodes called out from across the room.

"I thought you weren't getting in the middle of this!" Tony shouted back. Bucky was staring at them with a sort of bemused hysteria. This whole time, Tony knew he was a cop? And hung out with him anyway? Slept with him anyway? He couldn't decide if he should be flattered, furious, or shake Tony for being so goddamn reckless, an impulse he shared with Rhodes apparently. "Seriously, though," Tony said, face sober. "I had a good feeling about you, and I wanted to keep an eye on you."

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. "You took me to the Policeman's Ball," he accused.

Tony laughed and then had the grace to look abashed. "Yeah." 

"Keep your enemies close, is that it?" Bucky said with a snort, trying to smother a smile. Tony looked so earnest it was hard to be mad; after all, Tony was right, he had pegged Bucky for a cop from day one.   

"You're not supposed to keep them that close," Rhodes said, and they both turned to glare at him.

"Let's have a fresh start," Tony said, returning Bucky's smile. He held out his hand. "Hi. I'm Tony Stark."

"James Barnes," Bucky said, shaking his hand. "My friends call me Bucky."

----------

A/N: If you are enjoying this story, come find me over at @marveltrumpshate​ where I will be participating in auctioning off TWO fanfics! One auction is a fic with art (with @massivespacewren​ ) and the other is a solo fic. All the money goes to a good cause of your choosing! Hope to see you there! 

[smashing-teacups]

Missing J/C goodbye scene, 5x02

A/N: Hi y’all! Just scribbled down a quick goodbye scene between Jamie and Claire in 5x02, as I feel like we were missing that in this episode, hm? Their reunion is coming up in 5x03 and Sam has mentioned it’s one of his favorite scenes in the entire season, so I’m not touching that one! I’ll let the masters do their thing. But on the front end, here’s a wee thing I wrote this evening. All mistakes are my own; it’s quick and simple, didn’t even run it by a beta (or title it for that matter, haha)

____________

Jamie rose before dawn, early enough that the rustle of quilts and sag of the mattress didn’t fully wake me. I was still heavy-limbed and lethargic after spending the night entwined with him, unhurried and savoring, burning the feeling of one another into flesh and bone to take with us when we parted. Rolling into the warm depression his body had left behind, I breathed in the scent of him (of us) and drifted off again with a low hum of satisfaction. 

He was purposefully quiet as he moved about the room, dressing in the pale grey light of pre-dawn. It wasn’t until I heard the repetitive clink of the metal buckles along the length of his boots that I stirred in earnest, lifting my head with a snuffling breath. 

“You’re up early.” I squinted across the room at him in confusion, knowing full well that he didn’t plan to leave until after his men had filled their bellies with a warm breakfast.

“Aye,” Jamie agreed huskily, his morning voice an octave deeper than usual. “Thought I should see to my chores ‘fore I go.” He finished the row of buckles along his left boot and switched to the right while I stretched languidly, arching my back and toes into the cool sheets before coiling back into my ball of warmth. 

“You didn’t have to do that. I would have taken care of it.”

My husband glanced up at me with a throaty Scottish noise and a shrug. “Ye’ll already have to take up my slack while I’m gone. Dinna want to burden ye wi’ today’s work as well.” He finished the last of his buckles and crossed the room to me in a few strides, bending to capture my lips in a soft kiss. He smoothed a thumb over my cheekbone and down my chin, his eyes half-closed and trained on my mouth. “Go back to sleep, a nighean,” he murmured, and kissed me again.

Admittedly, I was tempted. It was still dark, the air beyond my cozy huddle of blankets discouragingly cold, and as we’d spent very little of the night actually sleeping, I was still plenty tired. Left to my own devices, I might have hunkered down and dozed blissfully until noon. The only thing preventing it was the recognition of how precious little time remained for us to be together before Jamie left for God-knows-how-long on Tryon’s bloody crusade. Savoring every moment afforded to us had been a hard-earned lesson, carved painstakingly into the shells of our hearts over the course of twenty long years.

Pushing the quilts back, I shook my head and swung my legs over the side of the bed, a prickle of gooseflesh rippling over my bare skin at the exposure to the stark morning air. “No,” I insisted, fumbling in the darkness to find the shift that had been hastily discarded on the floor the night before. “I’ll come with you.”

He waited for me to dress (I was quick about it, eager to bundle myself against the bitter chill), then wrapped an arm comfortably around my waist as we strolled out into the quiet, unfinished house. 

“Some tea first?” I asked softly as we walked by the kitchen. 

Jamie’s steps faltered for a moment as he considered it, but he shook his head. “Nah, I’ll bide for now. The animals’ll be restless for their breakfast, and I want to turn that new colt out for a bit ‘fore I go.”

I nodded, laying my head in the crook of his shoulder as we walked out onto the porch and down the path toward the barn. He was right, of course; heedless of our nocturnal activities and the ungodly hour of the morning, I could already hear the stamping of hooves and blowing snorts from the horses. Clarence began to bray excitedly when he heard us approaching, and that set off the chickens and the goats and the white sow. By the time Jamie lifted the bolt on the barn door, the whole bloody lot of them were in a cacophonous uproar.

The two of us exchanged knowing, exasperated smiles, then wordlessly set about our individual tasks: I filled grain and water buckets, Jamie climbed up in the loft to begin to heave down bales of hay. Once all of the animals were munching contentedly, I set to work milking the goats while my husband groomed the horses. With my cheek resting against a warm, bristly black belly, I listened to Jamie murmuring to one of the mares in Gaelic, smiling at the phrases I did know (“be good for the mistress, aye?” and “there’ll be apples in it for ye” and “bite her and I’ll tan yer bonny hide”) and closing my eyes to simply listen to the lilting cadence of his voice through the parts I didn't understand.

The comfort of it, the utter tranquility of the morning dawning golden and crisp and beautiful around us as we worked, was enough to fill my heart to the point of aching. After all our years of strife and suffering, sacrifice and separation, I finally had everything — we had everything — we’d ever wanted. We delighted in the simple pleasures of the farm, the land, the community, our family, each other. I had a booming medical practice where I finally felt useful, and Jamie had blossomed effortlessly into the role of laird that he had been born to fill. 

But of course, fate simply couldn’t bloody well let us alone. 

There was always another fucking war. Another battle, another conflict, another reason to tear Jamie from my arms and into the line of fire. It seemed these moments of tranquility would forever be fleeting for us. 

Perhaps that was the price we were meant to pay for challenging history, bending time itself to accommodate our love. 

Peace, after all, had never been part of the bargain Jamie and I had struck. 

So be it. I’d said it once before, and meant it: I would have him any way I could.

Setting the milk bucket aside, I went to Jamie in silence and wrapped my arms around him from behind, bowing my forehead into the valley between his shoulder blades. He paused at once with the brush at the horse’s withers, turning his head slightly toward me in silent inquiry. 

“Keep working,” I murmured against his back. 

I just need to hold you.

I didn’t need to say it for him to understand. He did as I bid him, and resumed his characteristic quick darting flicks as he brushed the horse. I closed my eyes, moving with him, memorizing the way his scarred skin stretched beneath my cheek, the way the powerful muscles of his shoulders rippled as he worked.

After a moment, he abandoned his task altogether, letting the brush drop softly into the hay at our feet as he turned to face me and wrap me in his arms. 

I need to hold ye too, Sassenach.

I didn’t cry, and neither did he. But we ached together in silence, swaying gently from side to side, my face tucked into his neck and his into my hair. 

In the distance, I could hear the stirrings from the other cottages; tenants waking to the new day and starting chores of their own. Within a few minutes, I knew we’d hear the telltale squealing of our grandson in the cottage just down the path. 

The world around us was waking. 

Which meant my time with Jamie was quickly running out.

We’d say goodbye here, alone. Later there would be people everywhere; we’d exchange nods, smiles, pleasantries, a quick and chaste kiss before an audience.

But here, I could say what I truly meant, and so could he.

“If you do find him,” I whispered against his skin, “make it quick, Jamie.” I pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye, and swallowed the lump in my throat. “For both your sakes.”

His eyes burned red for a moment, and he sniffled hard, dropping his forehead against mine. “Christ, don’t let it come to that,” he prayed, his voice barely a whisper.

“You told him to be hard to find,” I reminded him, squeezing his shoulders. “And the mountains are vast. You’ll make your excuses. Hm? Lead the wild goose chase as long as you can.” He nodded against me, and exhaled shakily. “But if…” I swallowed again. “If you do find him...”

“It’ll have to be me,” he agreed hoarsely. “I’ll no’ let him hang.”

“I know,” I whispered, and smoothed my hands over his stubbled cheeks. My husband stared down at me, earnest and terrified, and I drew him in with a soft, desperate sound, kissing him with everything in me. I stood on tiptoe and pulled him close, wishing I was big enough to wrap around him, make him feel protected, the way he did when I needed his comfort. The best I could offer was tenderness, understanding; shared affection and history with the man he was forced to hunt, defying every last one of his instincts. 

I loved Murtagh too. Jamie knew that. I don’t know if it helped him, but it was what I had to offer. 

When at last our kiss softened into grazing lips, I nuzzled the tip of my nose against his and murmured against him, “Ride slowly, Jamie. Wander. Take the long road around the mountain. Buy whatever time you can.” I drew back to look at him, to make sure he saw the honest permission in my eyes. “We’ll be alright here. I promise.”

“Aye,” he breathed, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Ye run a tight ship, a nighean. I dinna worry about the Ridge wi’ you at the helm.”

“Good,” I said, and gave him one more firm kiss on the lips. 

Jamie held fast though, tightening his grip on my waist. “I do worry about you, Claire. Ye get so deep into tendin’ yer patients that ye forget to tend yerself. Be mindful, aye? Dinna do anything reckless wi’ yer own safety while I’m no’ here to grouse at ye for it.”

I smiled, swaying my hips with his and humming faintly in amusement. “I promise to imagine your most disapproving face every time I get a bright idea, hm? We’ll see if it makes any more difference than when you’re here to give it in person.”

He fixed me with his best exasperated glare, and my smile softened. “I’ll be careful if you will, soldier,” I offered quietly, rubbing my palms over his shoulder caps. 

Jamie made a decidedly Scottish grunt; caution and self-preservation were not either of our strong suits. Still, he nodded as he leaned in to capture my lips one last time. 

“For your sake, then, my Sassenach,” he vowed, “I will.”