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darklydeliciousdesires · 4 months

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Say it Dirty - An Alfie Solomons/Reader One Shot Story.

For my babes @cillmequick and @zablife. Enjoy!

Words - 1,467

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Alfie. One could never use the word tall to describe the gangster rum distiller of Camden town, but suffice to say, he is big. He takes up space. He has presence. Alfie is so wide in both physical width and the enormity of his personality, he fills whatever room he happens to be within.

Everything about Alfie is imposing. That is why you fell for him in the first place. What gets your blood tingling with desire the most, though...

“Next lad!”

Oh, that enormous voice. He doesn’t shout often, but when he does, it sends your knees to jelly.

“Next lad!”

He’s handing out the weekly wages, the precise count out of pounds, shillings and pence into a small paper envelope, handing them to each of his employees for their, ahem, “baking” endeavours. The smell of the rum within the large casks fills your nose as you walk past them down in the dingy distillery, moving past the line and entering Alfie’s office.

“Bear with me, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even need to look up from his desk to know you’ve arrived. He can smell the sweet notes of your perfume in a sea of rum and sweaty men a mile off. “Just gotta get these fellas paid, innit.”

You perch on the edge of his desk, his hand moving to stroke your thigh fleetingly. “Next lad!” God, you’ll melt off the edge of the desk if you’re not careful. “Is there a fuckin’ reason you’re gorping, boy?”

“Um, n-no, Mr. Solomons.”

Alfie lowers his spectacles, raising his eyebrows. “You seriously comin’ in here for your pay, and giving me missus the once over with your beady little eyes while you’re here, eh? Nah, son. Off you fuck, while you still have them legs to carry ya. Just know, though. If I ever see you lookin’ at her like that again, yeah, it’ll be the last fuckin’ time you have eyes, mate.”

The young man takes his wages with a stiff gulp. “S-s-sorry, Mr. Solomons.”

“Ain’t me you was lookin’ at like a slab of meat.” He folds his arms, jerking his head in your direction, a smile spreading beneath his beard. “Apology should be directed at me wife, really.”

“I apologise, Mrs. Solomons.” He’s steadier when talking to you, wringing his cap between his hands nervously all the same.

Alfie studies you, watching you nod. “Alright, fuck off outta here. Next lad!” He scurries from the office, your husband continuing to hand out each wage envelope and mark it off with a pencil strike in the ledger. With the last lad paid, he stands, moving before you.

“Now, how about I take my little turtle dove out for a bit of nosh, yeah?” Well, that’s the sole reason you came to meet him from work, after all. He goes for a quick wash and to change his shirt before you leave, yet when he returns, he finds you not quite as ready to leave as he is.

The double take at seeing you sitting atop his desk naked is priceless, eyes touring your bare curves with much interest. “My darlin’, I dunno what kind of fuckin’ restaurant you think we’re going to, right, but it ain’t the kind where the customers sit about naked.”

“Can’t help it,” you purr, pulling him close, hands smoothing over his fresh shirt. “See it’s when you raise your voice, Alfie, when you get defensive of me, too. It does things to me, that voice of yours.”

He looks quietly thrilled at that. You don’t quite know how one can raise an eyebrow with cocky intent, but Alfie nails it every time. “Yeah, that right, love? You like the sound of my voice? Why don’t you sit on my cock while I talk to you, then?”

Grasping his shirt, you pull him close. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, Alf.”

Your lips meet in a slow tempest, all heat and honey, his hands beginning to glide where his eyes have already roamed, touring your bare flesh keenly. When his mouth follows, you whimper, each kiss sinking into your skin, the soft of his beard coaxing tickles over your flesh. Hot hands adorned in cool gold knead at your thighs, fingers slipping between.

The sweet sting of him toying with your clit radiates, little pricks of pleasure trickling down your spine, puddling at those clever fingers, his teeth sharp at your neck. “Always did love my hands, didn’t ya, dove?”

You hum in appreciative response against his tongue, mouths locked, those fingers you do indeed love so much thrusting within. He opens you, pushing greedily, his raspy chuckle low and self-satisfied at each little mewl that pours from your mouth like wine, your cunt clenching around each rotation as he roots those thick digits, so inordinately deep.

“Fuck, get in the chair,” you pant, hands moving to slide his braces down, undoing his trousers. “I need to ride you. Now.”

He chuckles, his thumb rolling over your clit sending sparks to skitter wildly. “Ain’t half a demanding little mare tonight, aint’cha?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, Alfie letting his trousers and undergarments fall to pool at his ankles, sitting down in the chair and guiding you astride him. “But then I always did know what’s good for me.” Taking him, you squeeze the thick of his rigidity, pushing him to your glistening opening and dropping down until you’re full.

You can feel every inch of him pressing your soft walls, thick and heavy, his hand weaving into your hair and pulling until you arch for him, bending like a crescent moon. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, look at that body bow for me. Can’t wait to watch these pretty little tits bounce while you ride me, darlin’.”

His mouth devours you, nipples sucked and bitten, his free hand grasping your hip as you begin to roll against him, his girth sending sensations to flutter up your spine, fizzing like champagne bubbles, the hint of teeth upon the peak of your nipple sending glimmers to join them. “Ain’t even half started properly yet, and this sweet little cunt is like a fuckin’ lake. Yeah, look at you. So fucking pretty for me, ain’t ya? So pretty and sweet, split open on me.”

His words mist hot beneath your skin, rising like steam, the torrent of seductive filth unabating. “Think I could have you like this on me for hours, and I wouldn’t get tired of watching you gripping tight on my cock. And you would, wouldn’t ya? Yeah, you’d keep giving, my beautiful, cock hungry little doe.”

His thumb stretches, and it sends a rain of pleasure pelting through you when he brings it to your clit, circling, your bundle twitching against the stroke, your toes gripping on the floorboards beneath as you begin to ride him with more determination. “That’s it, sweet. Show me how much you love this cock.”

The moan seeps from your lips, sweet and slow, like thick syrup, the clasp of your cunt tight upon him, the sound of him punching into the very wet of you lewd, mixing with the slap of your arse smacking hard against his solid thighs. It’s a symphony of utter sin, his groans adding delicious baritone, your tits bouncing, his hands moving to clutch them as his tongue swipes your cleavage.

His touch has lightning forking from nerve to nerve, your ministrations greedy in desperate need to come around him, wet his cock further with the dew of your orgasm, your hands fisting tight in his hair, a shift of his hips sending him deeper into the flutter of your cunt.

You sob his name, and he pushes even deeper, so heavy and overwhelming within you. “Come on, my beautiful little darlin’. Come pretty for me on this cock.”

Oh, how you do, the pleasure burning neon through your nerves, a sky of colours painted over you as it topples you completely. The scream it pulls from you has him twitching, and he becomes caught in the tide of it, cock pressed filthily deep into the rhythmic clasping of you, spilling hard, everything tense undoing and softening to fluid bliss. You both swim in it, adrift on the endless ocean, panting against one another.

“Fuck, that worked up a right appetite,” he finally breaths, kissing your neck as you roll your eyes.

“Do you ever cease thinking about your stomach?”

He chuckles, low and dirty. “Yeah. I often think about how good me wifey feels when she fucks me like she just did. And you can count on it, treacle, that I’ll be thinkin’ about it for the rest of the night an’ all.”

The way he keeps stealing heated glances at you all the way through dinner, you’re left in little doubt of that, too.

#alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons x reader #alfie aolomons x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy smut

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godjustkys · 22 days

Note

Could you do Joey Tribbiani dating headcannons please?

| FRIENDS headcanons

please give requests.

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RATING: SFW/NSFW.

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STATUS: In a relationship.

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Pairing: AMAB!reader x Joey Tribbiani

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Warning(s): so, it's. A lot. Slight exhibitionism, mentions of overstim and bondage,,

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A/n: i love that goofy mf so much, good god. And I did this request so quickly for some reason..

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1 - Joey was awkward around you at first. Not only were you his bisexual awakening, but you're the first man he's ever dated. He wasn't ashamed of it, nor you. He was just.. trying to figure out how to be in a relationship with you, how to keep you. Joey thought that it was soo different from dating a girl, but it really wasn't.

2 - Once he came around and got significantly more comfortable around you, he would religiously speak about dates he wants to go on with you. He would come up with new, weirdly-adorable ideas each time, yet he would never execute them.

3 - Whenever you praise him, even if it's just a simple 'good job' leaving your mouth, he acts like that ↑. All flustered and sheepish, almost coy.

4 - BACK HUGS. he adores physical touch to the core, but hugs from the back are his go-to move. He would also say 'boo' with a grin when he'd hug you from behind. Joey thought it would scare you - it never does.

5 - Flirts with you at any chance he gets. Cheesy, corny pick-up lines in the middle of a serious moment cause he thinks you look attractive when angry/arguing.

6 - you cannot tell me this dude does not dance at random times, anywhere. He hears music he likes? Dancing. It's quiet? He dances to the music in his head, even if his movements are stiff and subtle.

7 - speaking of music, Joey will SHAME you for your music taste if he doesn't like the song. He'll go on a full rant, argue with you about it, then leave mid argument because he realized you were winning. He, exactly like in the gif, did the L sign to you as he left.

8 - After serious arguments, which you rarely have, Joey will apologise first, although very hesitantly. Either he's coming to you with a gift in his hands for compensation or he speaks to you in a soft and somber tone, giving a full speech. Needless to say, he's only stubborn when he doesn't feel guilt or regret.

9 - When you're talking and he's listening, he's really not. He's staring at you, admiring to the fullest. His gaze will never leave your figure. The moment you ask "are you listening?" Joey shrugs his shoulders because he knows for a fact he didn't listen to a thing you said, but then again he doesn't want to lie to you. You'd see right through him anyway.

10 - He's not shy in public, not about you nor your relationship. He is not afraid of PDA. Actually, he almost always holds your hand or has an arm around you. He loves spoiling you as well.

11 - He's so touchy. So so so touchy, even in public. One time, when you were at a restaurant, Joey started jerking you off under the table. Ecstatic feeling, truly, but so glad no one ever found out.

12 - Joey is not that sensitive, he lasts long and is proud of it. He brags about that to you, almost like he's begging for you to overstimulate him. Hence the fact, you did, once. Best night of his life - regrets not trying something like that sooner.

13 - LOVES you touching his pecs, oh my god. Despite not being sensitive, he is vocal and rambles during sex a lot. Nothing but praise, not fond of degradation.

14 - FOREPLAY IS SO IMPORTANT TO HIM. He wants to get riled up before sex, he wants to need it from you. He'd beg if you asked him to — generally obedient.

15 - Night shower sex = best sleep of your life after. His aftercare is good, really good. Makes sure you're okay, that you're clean, comfortable, gets you a drink or food if you want it. It is your aftercare that Joey longs for. He doesn't know why but you do it so much better than he does (in his eyes), even though your aftercare isn't vastly different from his.

16 - When Joey asks for a massage from you, it'll most definitely end up in sex if only you're in the mood for it. He moans and grunts when you massage him ONLY for the sake of you getting you hot and bothered.

17 - He hasn't tried a ton of kinks that he thinks he might have, but you ended up agreeing with his request to try bondage. Not the full BDSM type, but you had his wrists tied during it. Joey hated it because he couldn't touch you properly, but at the same time, he loved the thrill of it. He had bruises on his wrist the next day..

18 - he's all for quickies. Whether it would be after a stressful day, or just during a trip, in a secluded area. Not afraid of getting caught, at all.

19 - blowjobs. He doesn't care if he's the one receiving it or if he's the one giving oral. Just, blowjobs. He says it feels like "putting on warm fuzzy socks after a long walk on a cold winter day."

20 - Pinning him to a wall and acting dominant makes him hard very quickly. Melts under your touch, shivers, stutters, his breath gets heavy and erratic, is stiff and tense. Absolutely adores it though.

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niam. :3

#request #male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #ask #ask blog #fanfiction #joey tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #headcanon #fanfic #reqs open #friends #tv shows

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enderfenderdragon · 3 months

Note

can you do tamaki amajiki with a breeding kink? Would also prefer some scenes of him being a switch.

yeah sure, i did make the reader female. is that okay? this is the first request i ever have had, so thank you. hope you like it! :D

also i realised i didn't really do the breeding kink, i just found it hard to write for. i'm so sorry, i know it was what you requested. but i tried to make up for it. i really am sorry. :(

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warnings!: dom!tamaki amajiki, sub!tamaki amajiki, dom!reader, sub-ish!reader, p in v, smutty (kind of), reader is a female. (sorry if you don't like that.) use of y/n. use of bunny (tamaki calls reader 'bunny') not proof read!.

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if you don't like the sound of the warnings please do not put in your opinion, please leave the comments, likes and reblogs for the people who like my posts and work.

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you moan his name and his thrusts speed up.

"am i doing good?" he asked looking into your eyes with affection and lust.

"y-yes, s-so good" you reply moaning his name once more.

you and tamaki have been at it for about an hour. him switching from being a sub to a dom then a sub again, it seems he likes to be submissive at the hands of y/n. who would of known? one of UA's big three was submissive with his partner.

you hear tamaki growl like a wolf and flips you over to your under side (belly). he starts beating his cock deep inside of your tight walls.

"a-ah!" you moan from surprise.

your moans and cries only make tamaki become even more dominate. but once he starts to get a little too ruff you tell him (more like beg him) to slow down.

"t-tamaki! t-too r-ruff!" you cry. back arching as

his eyes widen and his thrusts stop at once when he heard you cry. apologises and asking if your okay spill from his mouth.

"oh my god, y/n are you okay? i-im s-so sorry, b-baby im sorry" he quickly whispers.

he quickly and gently flips you over and cups your cheek.

"a-are you o-okay? i-im so so s-sorry. p-please f-forgive m-me." he whispers to you. resting his knees on the bed near your feet. his body stiff with anxiety.

you cup his hands on your cheeks.

"y-yes, you were g-great." you whisper back.

his whole body relaxes when you whisper this. you move one of your hands from his hand on your cheek to his cheek.

"b-but you did become a little too ruff. you have to remember, im not as strong as you tamaki" you say to him, voice stern. trying to make him realise or remember that you are indeed, smaller then him.

"i-im sorry b-bunny" he pulls you into a hug. you quickly hug him back and sigh.

"how about we just watch a movie hmm?" you say into his ear making him shiver, also making you laugh.

"d-dont laugh a-at m-me. i-it's n-not funny." he pouts.

"y-yes it is, it so is." you say back to him ruffling his hair.

you stand up and walk to your shared bathroom. you have a shower, and then tamki has a shower. while he is having his shower you get the snacks, the movie, the blankets and all the extra things you need when having a movie night with tamaki.

your sitting down thinking: 'why did tamaki growl, then flip me over. then start beating my pussy? is he okay? is he annoyed at me?'

your thoughts get interrupted when tamaki steps out of the shower, playing with his hair as a way of 'drying it' he calls it.

"hey" you hear him say.

tamaki crawls towards you on the bed, cupping you cheeks.

"w-whats on y-your mind b-bunny?" he asks tilting his head the way you always found adorable.

you sigh, looks at him through your eye lashes and takes a deep breath.

"why did you suddenly become very dominate and very ruff with me?" you ask, your voice small just above a whisper. afraid anyone would hear what you asked.

tamaki's face becomes a firing mess and he quickly covers his face with his hands.

you laugh and cup his hands, gently making him let you see his very red face you ask again. but instead of hiding his face tamaki mumbles so quiet you don't hear him.

"tamaki, hunny i didn't hear you." you say quietly back.

the next few words that escapes tamaki amajiki's mouth make your whole body stiffen and your face becomes hotter then a volcano.

"i-i was t-trying to b-breed y-you" he mumbles.

@the-little-devils-chaos

#amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader smut #my hero academia #my hero acedamia #my hero acadamy #my hero academy fanfiction #sub tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki #amajiki tamaki #boku no hero academia #tamaki smut #smut #fluff #x reader #fem reader #imagine

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 4 months

Text

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 8

A/N: So sorry this chapter is coming so late into January. I hope everyone is doing well. Let's get this chapter rolling!

Summary: Love comes with many sacrifices.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

Follow the story on A03!

Chapter 8

He’s up all night as if consumed by grief all over again.

Adrian is familiar with the feeling, the ache within his chest, which devours him whole.

It stings in his body and mind when he rises with the sun, clouded and forgetting the previous night’s memories. He tells himself he will never be vulnerable with another, over and over, but his time spent with you draws that closeness he needs. He was craving more and more of your closeness and it grew easier and easier to feel it with you.

He was sure that if the consumption of wine continued, he would’ve done something he regretted, unravelling all the work to form an attachment and friendship that took so long to create.

It was the wine, he told himself. It causes anyone to do stupid things.

But it’s not the wine, he knows it. He knows it’s an excuse – a poor one to use when facing something far more lethal than a friendship on the line. He knew it had to be wrong, to put you in a position that made you downright uncomfortable, and the soft touches the two of you shared brought him far bigger feelings than he’d ever felt before.

It wasn’t far from trusting someone anyone, he knew it was something that could’ve been done long ago to betray him. And despite it, Adrian fears it could come any day, no matter how much his emotions grow.

He feels like a boy with a childish crush, not fully understanding the entire complexity of it all. It feels far more real than a simple crush: Adrian yearns for it, begs for its stay, to flourish and build into something much more. It’s a desire, a wish to anyone who would listen.

No, it would never happen. He told himself over and over again, cold in the bed as if there had been another beside him. It was far different to that fateful night, and the ghost of arms around him felt more tender than they had ever been. She is my friend, my closest friend.

Adrian had never felt colder.

When the sun reached his eyes, he squinted, as if its heat would finally put him out and catch him ablaze. Anything to end my misery. He wondered if more wine had been left, but it would’ve started a routine he dared not start again. Not with you around.

He said he would never return to that, not when you stayed.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered into the chill of the air, awareness hitting him like a blow to the face. If he was truly wanting to remain sober for you, something was deathly wrong. “I truly am becoming a Belmont.”

He rises with the rest of the day, telling himself he will apologise if you’re still stiff with him, but he will continue as if all the previous days had been the same. Nothing to hide, except for muddled emotions.

It’s the reminder to himself when he looked over the fireplace mantel, sitting cosy above with its pretty dark curls he made by uncoiling dark thread, and brown buttons for eyes, the skin tone as close to yours as possible, that he cannot have you finding this of all things.

“Are you ready?”

You draw your eyes over to the blond, readying a chestnut mare, the two of you standing in the castle stables. Adrian tells you that the town is not too far, it may take a bit longer to get back with such a large supply he hopes for. The castle’s food supply was dwindling, and Adrian kept a list of what needed to be restocked.

Adrian was kind in giving you some spare clothes, simply because you didn’t want to get your pretty dresses dirty: simple dark pants with a pair of riding boots, a dark green vest and a white tunic shirt that was too big and you had to cinch in with a belt. You also carried on you a small satchel, a cloak and gloves in case of the cold.

“Yes,” you shuffle closer to him, wary of the large beast in front of you, its beady black eyes staring right into your soul, “it’s a beautiful creature.”

“Indeed,” Adrian answers, soothing the horse by scratching just behind the back of its neck, behind its ears, “she is a gentle soul. She will not be frightened by you.”

You warily stare ‘her’ up and down, inquisitively, “What is her name?”

“Oh,” the Dhampir seems understandably abashed for not giving her one, “I did not think that far.”

“Really?” You stare between him and the beast, surprise blooming in your voice. It only makes sense for you to give her a name now! “How about… Lady? No, no—or maybe—”

“Luna?”

His voice catches you by surprise, but it is a wonderful idea. “Luna?”

“It’s a pretty name,” Adrian strokes her snout affectionately, “I like the other name too.”

“No, I like Luna more.” You follow with a guide of Adrian’s hand in knowing where to stroke Luna; just above her snout, his hands lingering longer than you both expected in this subtle affection before he pulls back. His touch still lingers, and it comforts you the size of his hand compared to yours.

“Shall we get going?”

“Indeed.”

It takes some minutes of humbling yourself to get onto a horse- with Adrian’s help- but you’re far more ashamed of how you embarrassed yourself in front of him. It’s not graceful how you straddle, the discomfort that comes from your legs so far apart and how you’re already dreading when it moves.

Adrian is quicker than you, almost leaping on with ease as he sits behind you, his hands coming from behind to grab at the reigns.

“Easy,” you think he’s telling the horse to be at ease, but you realise it’s directed to you, his hands reassuring you, “You’re not going anywhere, little witch.”

You’re thankful he can’t see the way your face heats, the way you wish he would do what he said, but you have to stop those thoughts from occurring.

The laugh that comes from you is more of a wheeze, and you correct yourself before you can embarrass yourself further. “Are you talking to the horse or me, Adrian?”

Adrian chuckles lightly at your jab but knows it is all a tease. He guides the horse out from the stable, and almost immediately begins a sprint. The castle seems like a speck in the distance the further you travel, trees whipping past like shadows of figures you thought were human.

Animals could be heard within the trees as if they surrounded you, but instead of fear, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and across your face. You imagined this was what it felt like to be a bird, or the fastest horse free in a field. It was in some way what you imagined what a vampire felt like hidden and part of wildlife.

With the speed and wind on your side, you arrived in the town by the time the sun was highest in the sky. You forgot how lively a town could be: bustling with life. People of all ages, genders and skin tones wandered the market. Mothers with their babes and young children playing around her skirts. Those who came to sell and trade within the markets. Couples of old and young fill the streets with tender displays of affection for one another.

It made you blush when you looked around, realising that some could maybe say the same about you and Adrian looking like a couple. Would Adrian notice this too? Would he feel ashamed to be associated with you?

You didn’t realise you had been distracted by your thoughts when you felt a tender hand shaking you gently out of your thoughts. Blinking owlishly, Adrian stood before you, his golden eyes were wrought with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Overwhelmed, but I’ll survive,” you told him, puffing your chest out to show you weren’t feeling all sorts of worries. “Have you got the list?”

Adrian doesn’t want to shake away his concerns for you, but he unravels the crumpled note from inside his coat pocket to hand to you. You scan over it quickly before you nod. “See you back at the carriage?”

“I must hire one first,” Adrian chortles, “but yes, I shall see you then… be safe.”

Be safe.

It’s enough to make your heart swoon, and you nod, fleeing like a lovesick teenager who just said hi to her crush. You absorb yourself by finding the necessary things, trying your best to not get engrossed by the things around you.

You get mostly through your list before something catches your gaze.

An array of jewels of different sizes and colours greet you: some attached to bracelets, necklaces and brooches, others gaudy and lavish and sitting for all to see. It doesn’t take you long to fully stop and be standing in front of the older woman’s stall, looking over them carefully.

If only I had enough money.

“The peridot would suit you nicely, young lady,” you look up to catch the warm gaze of the woman, her crow’s eyes wrinkled. “Or alexandrite. Very pretty, will catch anyone’s eye.”

“They are very pretty,” you muse, though you already know you won’t be buying anything from her, it is always nice to look around. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Light colours would suit your skin tone,” she begins as she points to different items, holding them as if for you to compare until the next thing to come from her mouth leaves you practically gasping, “I’m sure your husband would agree.”

“Husband?”

“There you are.”

The first thing you notice is the arm that snakes its way around your waist, a body leaning in closely to you as you feel your body freeze on the spot. Adrian is looking over the jewels with you with interest, softly musing to himself, “I knew I’d find you here.”

You’re gawking now, no words are coming to you and it’s only when the old woman brings up impatiently that you’re buying anything that Adrian pulls a bag from his pocket, casually handing the woman the change as if it's nothing. “The peridot I think would look lovely on you.”

He’s moving away, back to the wagon with you following behind like a lost puppy.

“What was that?” You whisper when it’s just the two of you, watching the world go by.

“What do you mean?” He asks as he pulls out the necklace to inspect himself. “I thought this colour would look nice on you.”

“Yes,” you replied, fiddling with the hem of your gloves. “It’s just—”

Adrian seems to read you easily, and he knows when you’re showing some discomfort. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“Far from it,” you laugh it off, though your heart hammers to great lengths, “She had been the one to say I had a husband.”

Your laugh leaves Adrian silent, quieter than he normally is, and it leaves you spiralling. What was he thinking? Was he too uncomfortable with the choice of words?

“Turn round for me?”

You blink thoughtlessly at the question, slowly following as you turn your back on him. You have to stop yourself from gasping aloud when his gloved fingers graze over the back of your neck, pulling back your curls to give him a proper view.

You’re shivering, and you realise what state you’re in, crumbling just from a singular touch, but you try your best to keep your cool. Adrian steps close behind you, his scent is strong in your nostrils as he collects the links of the necklace, putting it around your neck before securing it.

“It suits you.” He quips, knowing that his words are having an impact on you, before he turns away to the cart, you follow hot on his heels to nag him for making you feel so unsteady.

It's sometime later on the cart on your way back when Adrian suddenly touches your hand.

Even when he wears his leather gloves, you can feel the warmth that resonates within him, the raw strength and power that comes from him. He’s a killer, a killer who could’ve overpowered you a long time ago, but who you put your undying trust in.

Your shock freezes you as you look over at him, his gaze on the road ahead, but you know for a fact, that he’s aware you’re staring. “Is something the matter?” He draws softly, looking at you through his peripheral.

“You’re…” You can’t find the right words, but you direct your gaze to his free hand occupied in holding yours, and he follows. “My hand,” he states coolly, though you feel as if there is a hidden motive to this. “You were cold.”

Right, you tell yourself that, and a harsh chill bristles through you before you have time to think it through. He’s smart, too smart.

“Oh." You don’t consider he’s telling the whole truth, but you don’t shake away the way he’s holding your hand. It brings a great comfort to you. You’re still side-eyeing him as he continues on the road, the silence that envelops you is calming and quaint.

You’re very aware that your heart is hammering, the necklace wrapped around your neck is being twirled as you think heavily with your thoughts. Shall you tell him now how you feel? Would that break everything you built with him? It’s only a matter of time before your feelings are split accidentally and your friendship is cursed.

You squeeze his fingers to get his attention, “Adrian, there is something I wish to tell you-”

You’re lurched forward from your seat at the front of the cart, the suddenness of it is all to not still your nerves. The horses snorted in anxiousness, and all around you stood still as if holding their breath. Adrian’s eyes were deadest on something within the trees, and you couldn’t help but feel even more nervous at what could be out there.

“Night creatures?” You whisper to Adrian, but he only gives a glance your way, a way to tell you it was way, way worse.

It was still far too early for creatures of the night to be out, but with the fading sun passing over the horizon of the trees, that was when you spotted them.

They blended with the trees at first, but you could see their silhouettes, standing as rigid as statues, ready as soldiers for war, staring down at you like vultures. They can’t be just human bandits on the road, their presence alone gave off a bad omen. You don’t know how many you count, their clothes blend as one with the growing darkness as the sun settles.

Adrian’s voice is already speaking to you, cutting the silence with a knife.

“Y/N, get to the back of the cart, do not come out until I tell you so,” it’s not a warning, but an order, and you don’t want to waste his time by stalling. His voice is serious, eyes stone cold as he glares down at the figures not far and lurking around the trees.

Adrian easily hops down from his spot as he flicks the scabbard off his longsword. You watch in a mix of wonder and dread at the scene that unfolds.

The figures draw in closer, watching and snarling as Adrian holds a solid line, almost unfazed as he holds the sword close to his face.

His sword glows suddenly as if imbued with holy light, a shocking flow of blue flames engulfs it, glowing and hissing with life. The flames flicker close to Adrian’s face as he readies his action, changing his stance before he is on the closest one.

He’s quicker than your eyes can register, a shadow of crimson shifts as he moves at lightning pace, soon in front of the hooded creature as his sword moves as one with him. He is no longer holding it, rather, the two of them move as if it is a dance, fluid and graceful.

A hiss of a cry lurches into the darkening skies, one is down on the ground, its skin hissing and bubbling as it disintegrates.

Two more are on him with a flash, but Adrian fights with valour and dances around him, swords crashing against the sound of their taloned nails. You’ve not stuck around to know what was happening, having crawled through to the back of the cart for safety.

Once huddled in a spot surrounded by crates, you can only rely on sound: clashes of silver clang loudly around you, bodies fall and you have no clue if Adrian is winning or not. You can only assume he is, from the way you can still hear the glow of his magic sword, twirling around as silent as he is.

Another noise resonates from just outside, creeping behind you and you freeze, before the sound of splattering blood and a gargled choke dies down. You look just to your left to see that the material of the cart is splattered in the thick, viscous liquid, and you shudder that Adrian is here to protect you.

You don’t know how many of them are left, and you can only think that the best thing for you to do is protect yourself if one finds you inside. You scramble to your feet, clumsily looking for any blade that could be of use. You find only a flimsy dagger, and you clutch it close to your chest as you settle in the back of the cart, trying to calm your racing heart.

Something draws in close and you stutter a gasp before you realise it’s too late. The figure pauses almost dramatically, inching closer to the back of the cart, their movement deliberately slow, trying to edge as much fear out from you.

You pray it’s Adrian coming to your rescue, to tell you the area has been cleared, but as the face emerges through the curtains of the entrance to the cart, it’s not those golden eyes you’ve grown to love staring back at you.

They’re red, crimson as the blood that will soon spill from you.

Your screams fall silent as the face erupts into a smile, wide and fanged as the rest of its vampiric kind. The dagger in your grasp feels more like a twig as you stare down, wide-eyed the vampire in front of you.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” his voice is soft yet hoarse, and his red eyes seemed unblinking as he seemed to taunt you from the entrance, blocking one of the ways you could escape. “What a delicacy you’ll be.”

Your fight or flight had kicked in and instead of either of them, you had become frozen in your spot, dreading that this would be the way you died, dying in a smelling cart as a vampire ripped at your throat.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, inching closer, a clawed hand bracing the inside of the cart as he further draws inside, “I’ll make sure I’m quick with you.”

Adrian's POV

Blood soaks through the leather of his clothing, but he is thankful it is there’s and not his.

The last of the creatures die within an inch of him, sizzling into nothingness as he stares down what remains. Ash of their bones and the burnt clothes remain, the reminder to anyone who crossed him he would do it a hundred times over.

All in the name of love.

He had once didn’t understand the meaning of love, the way it would pull at his heart and lurch within him. He needed it as if it was necessary like water or food, a hunger that he yearned for in the waking hours of the day to the late hours of twilight.

He is his father's son after all.

Dracula did it in the name of love, and he found he was killing his kind all to keep you safe.

“Y/N, it’s safe.” He calls you to, and he listens for any sound except for the sounds of nature surrounding him. It’s startling how quiet the outside world could be, and how quickly his heart could plummet in knowing something was deeply, deeply wrong.

His heightened senses could not smell blood, not the blood that came from you but what had fizzled and dried. It seemed almost deathly quiet, but Adrian’s mind was racing, the pulling of his heart meant you were not here, or worse, he had failed to keep you safe.

A scream brings his attention, and he wastes no time in hurtling towards the back of the cart, his heart racing.

No, no, no, if he's failed in doing the one thing, he's failed you and himself.

He hasn't even got his face an inch through the gap before he senses something telling him to move out of the way, an object being flung just where his face would be. His head snaps to see a dagger clatter to the dirt just behind him before it turns to what stands before him, a snarl leaving his curled lips.

You were safe, for now, though the vampire he failed to miss had his disgusting fangs inches from the base of his neck, his clawed hands wrapped around you, keeping your body locked to his chest.

“Son of Dracula, the Messiah,” the vampire greets him, observing him with a lazy smile. You continue to squirm in his grasp, eyes locked onto Adrian for any semblance of safety. “Care to take a bite of your pet first or shall I do the honour?”

His venom is bitter and his anger is boiling at the words he uses for you. How dare he call you a pet!

“Unhand her now,” his voice resonates inside him and he channels his father, the voice he would use and boom across the castle grounds, “I will not ask you again.”

“Ah, ah, one step and I spill her neck open.” The hooded vampire fusses, his movements almost consoling to Y/N as he runs a hand down her cheek, tears drying on her skin. “This one is a waste if you keep it.”

He laughs easily as he stares Adrian down, his next words bringing Adrian close to lopping his head clean off. “Though it is no surprise, you are Dracula’s son, keeping human women around as your pets. It was Dracula’s weakness,” he leant close into Y/N, drinking up her tears as he licked his tongue up the side of her face, “and it will be your undoing.”

Adrian is hunched as if ready to pounce to get him off you, but his golden eyes are never leaving you. A cry leaves your lips when his tongue licks up the side of your face, and you’re shivering, hands clutched around the tightened grip of his forearm.

There is a silent connection that only he can feel when you are close, and it comes from your eyes that stare back at him. They don’t seem as frightened as they did before, and he believes he knows you want him to be calm and not quick to action. Your eyes calm him like a storm approaching, ready to destroy all in its wake.

The vampire holding you runs a hand through the links of your necklace, the hands glimmer in the low light inside and it’s the only thing Adrian sees, trying to not imagine it coated in blood. “Such sweet, sweet blood.” The vampire says, his face drawing into your neck, but you stop him from doing anything further.

With your hands clutching his forearms tightly, Adrian watches how you shut your eyes tight, before shouting the words that resonate through you:

“Ardeo!”

It amazes him every time when you speak that spell, the way flames spill from your hands as easily as water flowing. The endless cycle of nature flows through you, and the power within your hands cries with a mighty scream that neither Adrian nor you know who it’s coming from.

The flames roar as they lick up the clothes of the vampire, and his screams join in fright as they clutch around his arm, a grip in itself that never lets him go. They take and they take, scorching the fabric as they bury deep into the skin.

The vampire is held in place as if something within an endless cycle of life and death ties him to his spot, scorched by your touch as he squirms and screams. He sounds like a pig, Adrian notes, but the sound is as annoying as the actual animal dying.

The vampire is quick though, and though his arm is distorted, blackened and charred, he shoves you away from him, his nails catching you by the skin of your arm, nicking it as you collide with the side of the cart.

Adrian is there in a flash to end it all, to end its misery, to end its hellish torment. He does it for you when his sword is a flash of lightning, quick to the bite and cold as a kiss to the vampire’s neck, coming out the other end before anyone could realise.

Your breath is caught in your throat as you’re unaware you’ve been cut, though the adrenaline dies down as quickly as the body slumps in front of you, turning to ash before your very eyes.

Adrian is beside you, a hand tending to your arm before the sting catches up with you. You hiss in pain, realising what had happened and how deep the wound is. Three long scratches reach down to your elbow, bleeding freely.

“Careful.” He’s quiet with his words, delicate as if treating you like the fine China you are. He rips part of your shirt, wrapping the open wound to stop the flow of blood. He reminds himself he needs to clean it when you return to the castle.

You’re staring at him as he does so, your eyes glazed over as if in a daze, and before he has time to register if you’re okay, he feels something press against his cheek, and he realises it’s your warm lips, chaste and sweet.

“Thank you,” you murmur, leaning into him as the silence fills the cart. Adrian is silent for what feels like forever, but his mind is screaming. You kissed him, and he’s gaping like a dead fish. You kissed him and he feels like a boy all over again.

He shakes out of his thoughts to collect himself, to calm the rush of blood that goes straight to his head, and he feels lightheaded, but he gladly accepts your embrace, cradling you to his chest.

“No... thank you.”

Latin Translation:

Ardeo - (I) burn

#castlevania alucard x reader #castlevania fanfic #alucard castlevania #alucard x reader #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader #reader x alucard #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #reader is a witch #mixed race witch #half black reader #part 8 #witch! reader #alternate universe

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16eggsforxio · 4 months

Text

did you know?

Joshua Rosfield x Reader

5340 words, fluff

Summary: Word on the street was the Archduke had a favourite amongst the Shields of Rosaria.

(AU where Rosaria is somehow defended and that bitch Anabella dies too. god I hate her so much)

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

The room felt oddly cold, for one that housed the Warden of Fire.

“I must apologise, but I cannot accede to your request at this point in time.”

You’d seen the man knelt before Joshua many times before. His silvery hair was styled rather asymmetrically, braided on the left and loose on the right, so his appearance particularly stood out to you. Not that you quite remembered his name or who he was, apart from being a representative of Waloed. Joshua always treated him dismissively, and so did you.

His demeanour was usually placid, but you observed the way his shoulders were much too tense. Without raising his head, he slowly said, “I implore you, Lord Rosfield—my master grows weary of waiting. Surely you could entertain a single meeting with him?”

Right, the King of Waloed had been wanting to meet Joshua for a while now. In the past year, this man whose name you did not remember showed up like clockwork every month, bringing the same request every time and going home with the same rejection every time. You recalled that in the beginning these requests had been sent via mail, but after one too many times of Joshua putting it aside on his desk and saying I’ll respond to him later nonchalantly, this nameless man started showing up at Rosalith Castle’s doorstep.

“Please understand, Sir Harbard—I would love to speak with your king, but my duties as the Archduke have my hands full.” Oh, his surname was Harbard. Joshua clasped his hands on his lap. “As I have mentioned before, at the earliest opportunity, I will be more than happy to arrange something with him. But now simply isn’t a good time.”

Your neck felt a little itchy, but you resisted the urge to rub it for the sake of looking professional.

This time, Harbard raised his head, brows creased. “Forgive my saying so, but this cannot wait any longer.”

“And you must forgive me as well, as my answer would have to remain the same.”

Harbard’s once composed gaze morphed into something resembling a glare, but not quite yet. “I must warn you that my king is not above the means of using aggression as a form of communication—”

He didn’t get to finish speaking. In the next second you were in front of him, sword unsheathed and the tip of its blade prodding his throat, almost provoking him to continue speaking. For the first time he looked up at you, meeting your blank gaze.

“Commander, please…” Joshua called placatingly from behind you.

Your retreat wasn’t explicitly ordered, but you knew that was what he meant. Of course, you’d only been following what you were taught—subdue all imminent threats before they become a real danger—but following the Archduke’s words preceded that, so you wordlessly sheathed your sword and backed away to your original position behind Joshua.

Joshua just waved a hand to signal the end of his audience. “Thank you for your warning, but I suppose this concludes our meeting. Please relay my words to your king.”

Harbard looked like he was biting back a retort, but he pulled a graceful smile taut on his lips and rose to his feet. “Of course. I thank you for your attention.”

He turned to the door to leave. The two guards standing by the exit stepped forward to flank his side, escorting him out of the room. You wondered if you should follow in the event that he caused any trouble, but your assignment was to stay by the Archduke’s side, so your eyes trailed after him as the doors shut on their backs. He’d be back, evidently, be it in a peaceful or hostile manner the next time.

With the guest gone, you finally took the opportunity to stretch your stiff limbs, before glancing over at Joshua. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep ignoring him?”

Joshua looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I have yet to ascertain their goal, so it’s best to refrain from doing anything with him for now.”

“He just threatened you with war, though.”

“If his goal was conquest, then his loyal servant wouldn’t be here every month to beg for an audience.” He leaned forward, palm cradling his cheek. “And he has yet to turn up personally. He seems to want to meet elsewhere—anywhere but Rosaria. Is he looking to create a distraction? Or could he have another goal?”

You snort. “He sounds rather annoying.”

“Better annoying than dangerous.” Joshua stood up from his seat, and you toddled along to his side. “I’ve ordered investigations on it, but it’s still too early to say anything.”

That was a first. “Investigations by who?”

He regarded you with a coy smile, which you had learned he did when he was about to feed you a half-truth. “Secret subordinates.” Then he raised a hand and pinched you on the cheek. Not enough to hurt, but you winced in surprise. “But I must say, threatening one of our guests’ life at the first provocation? You could stand to be a little less protective.”

It was against the regulations to defy the Archduke, and you assumed pulling away from him counted as that, so you settled for a grumble. “It’s my duty…”

“Of course. Thank you.”

Joshua made for the doors, and you followed him closely to exit.

By tradition, the First Shield was the one who was always by the Phoenix’s side. That would be his brother, Clive, and not you, a regular commander. And it would’ve been so if Clive hadn’t awoken as Ifrit, which had led to Clive often being dispatched to all over Valisthea instead. You weren’t privy to the exact details, but he’d been investigating the Blight and the Mothercrystals and also settling some scuffles as a sign of diplomacy. He’d become just as important and prominent as the Archduke himself, and he was also not burdened with illness, so he often took more trips out in Joshua’s place.

It wasn’t official, but you seemed to always be the stand-in personal guard for Joshua whenever Clive was gone, and attended to your regular duties whenever he had returned. Although, more and more often you would have to be with Joshua even when Clive was back, and you would see him accompanying Jill. You didn’t really mind. It wasn’t a difficult position. If anything, you seemed to be around less for Joshua’s protection and more for his entertainment.

“Did you know that these flowers used to be ground and used for cosmetics?” Joshua gestured to a row of bushes lining the corridor on the side.

“Oh?”

“Then they were claimed to cause rashes, so their purpose in recent times are purely decorative.”

“I didn’t know that.”

You felt like your duty was actually to just stand around and listen to him babble about something or other that he’d read or heard the other day. You didn’t mind it that much.

Joshua turned his head to face you. You kept your eyes trained in front so the both of you didn’t walk into something. “My brother should be returning tonight or tomorrow morning.”

Really? You felt like he hadn’t left long ago. “So soon?”

“It’s been a few weeks, actually,” Joshua corrected. Then, mischievously: “Perhaps you’ve become too accustomed to my side?”

You held his arm and guided him around a corner before he could walk into a wall, then let go of it. “No, I must’ve just lost track of time.”

“Yes, of course,” he agreed, and not sounding like he agreed with you at all. His tone soon turned sour. “We also have to discuss that ball coming up, so after he’s returned, you may return to your regular position for the time being.”

It was no secret that Joshua was not a fan of parties, but unfortunately, his ancestors must have been. They’d made it a tradition to celebrate the day of the formation of the Grand Duchy of Rosaria, which had been established by the unification of several small independent provinces. And perhaps to highlight this very undertone of strength in numbers, they usually invited people and nobles from all over Valisthea. Waloed was most likely not on the guest list, to the king’s probable chagrin. Neither of the Rosfield brothers were inclined to the idea of the grand ball, but breaking a tradition that had been upheld for generations would be alarming at best, so they begrudgingly put up with it.

Two soldiers were stationed along the corridor. Upon seeing the both of you, they saluted. You bowed your head and Joshua nodded at them.

“I had heard preparations for that were already completed,” you said idly.

“For the most part, yes. But events like these attract droves of people from all over Valisthea, and I can assure you a good portion of our men would be too lost in the sense of celebration to be on guard.” He walked closer to you, bumping his arm against your shoulder. In a lower voice, he continued, “Wouldn’t it be so tempting to break through using that window, if you were the enemy?”

You stared ahead at the nearest corner to turn at. “You said Waloed wouldn’t turn aggressive.”

“It’s unlikely, not impossible.”

Ugh. You wished you had lopped off that—what was his name again?—asymmetrically-haired man’s head back there, though more out of frustration than as a calculated move. Every time you heard about Waloed, you had to stifle a groan.

The scurrying of footsteps sounded up ahead. A servant rounded the bend, panting with a jog, envelope clutched in their hand. When he caught sight of Joshua, he lit up and straightened his hunched back, slowing his pace drastically.

“Your Grace.” He halted and then bowed, stretching out both arms to present the envelope to him. It was a little crumpled. “This is addressed to you. It says it’s urgent.”

Joshua stopped in front of him, and you mimicked his action. He peered over at the envelope curiously. It was indeed addressed to him, with a very tacky looking URGENT, and signed off by Cid.

“Ah, it’s from Cid.” The name was unfamiliar to you. Joshua plucked the envelope from the servant’s hands between two fingers. “Thank you.”

After hastily bowing again, the servant retreated the way he had come. Joshua hummed and pocketed the envelope, looking not at all ruffled by a letter that supposedly conveyed an emergency, and continued strolling down the corridor.

Puzzled, you skittered to catch up with him. “Are you not going to open it now? It’s urgent, isn’t it?”

Joshua looked down at you, gait uninterrupted and unbothered. “Oh, Cid always writes that. If it were truly urgent, he’d have sent someone.”

You frowned and cocked your head. “What kind of person is he?”

He chuckled, ruffling the hair on the top of your head. “Wouldn’t you like to know, my dearest commander?”

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

Clive had returned, so the next day, as usual, you were discharged to regular commander duties.

The open sky scrolled overhead, clouds dotting over them like merry sheep in an azure field. A breezy zephyr trilled its way around the castle courtyards; present enough to be pleasant, but not strong enough to mess up your hair and get in the way. Grunts and laughter from soldiers sparring, harmonised with the hard sound of wooden sword against wooden sword, echoed and bounced off the walls eagerly.

You readjusted your grip on the wooden handle of your sword and wiped away a dribble of sweat on your chin with the back of your hand.

The soldier in front of you swung down at you again, an action that you had seen from miles away, and blocked it with a parry of your own sword.

Too slow to catch you off guard, and not strong enough to knock you off balance. You opened your mouth to give feedback, but before you could get any words out, he spoke first.

“Say, Commander, is there anything going on with you and the Archduke?”

You let go of the parry, swinging away from the arc of his remaining slash and throwing his balance forward and momentum off, then completed your spin by slamming the flat side of the wooden sword at his knees. He yelped and collapsed sideways, and you had more than enough time to direct the blunt edge of the blade against his neck, stopping just short of nicking it.

He winced. “Not the prodigy commander for no reason, eh?”

“Distraction is fatal in battle, you know,” you remarked, bumping the sword against his jaw before stepping away.

He huffed, recovering from the shock and moving to sit on his bum on the dirt. “That wasn’t a real battle, y’know.”

“I should pray that you don’t think up of some rubbish like that in a real battle.”

“Grumpy as always…” But he had some sort of stupid amused grin on his face. You offered a hand and helped to pull him to his feet. “Well, what’s your answer?”

You raised your wooden sword so that it was level to your face, smoothing out the dented edges. “I don’t answer nonsensical questions.”

“C’mon, don’t pretend,” he continued drawling. “He only ever asks you to stand in for the First Shield, out of all our commanders. And he’s a nice guy and all, y’know, but he doesn’t talk even a quarter as much to any of us than he does to you. Hard to not notice.”

Tapping on your palm with the sword, you furrowed your brows at him. “That’s strange. I hit you in the knees, so why are you acting like I hit you on the head?”

“But he’s right, Commander,” some other dastardly nosy soldier piped up, obviously not busy training and eavesdropping on you two instead. You turned to the soldier who was resting by the fence a few feet away. “We can keep a secret!”

“There’s nothing going on. I know my place.”

“What about him? Don’t you think he fancies you?”

You looked at him incredulously. “What sort of rumours have been going around? Shouldn’t I report this as insubordination?”

You wouldn’t, and they also knew you wouldn’t, so the soldier carried on. “His Grace has never shown interest in anyone else, right? You’ve been with him for pretty long, right?”

A decade? Maybe a little more than that? You hadn’t actually cared to count. You’d been brought in to train as a knight after some of the adults had witnessed your spectacular talent in combat, but during the Night of Flames, you had still been a child, and had been protected from the battle like one. Afterwards, you only heard the tale via word of mouth. The battle between Ifrit and Phoenix had somehow wreaked enough havoc to force the enemy to retreat, and then the story became ambiguous from there. But Rosalith successfully defended itself, albeit suffering heavy losses. Clive had awoken after a few weeks, and Joshua after a few years, but both of them had slept through the angry mob of Rosaria, rioting against their mother’s betrayal and then burning her at the stake. Probably for the better that they hadn’t witnessed that.

By the time Joshua had awoken, you’d already clawed your way up in the ranks of knighthood. With both brothers being able to prime, it seemed unwise to have them stuck together all the time, so even as the First Shield, Clive often went off elsewhere. You hadn’t been a commander at that time, but with the sad dregs left of the Rosarian army and your outstanding capabilities, they’d assigned you to guard him anyway.

“I don’t think so… what do you mean by ‘been with’?”

Before they could spout anymore of their foolery, you heard someone call you from a distance. You turned to the direction of the source and found Joshua and Clive, standing under the shelter of the corridor, waving you over.

“Speak of the devil,” the soldier you’d been sparring with mused.

You shot him a dirty look before traipsing over to them.

Sometimes when Clive had just returned at the gates of Rosalith, he would look very tired and very haggard, so seeing him in freshly pressed and blood-free clothes was always nice. You weren’t as familiar with him as you were with Joshua, so you took care to bow first, and he insisted it wasn’t necessary.

“I hope I haven’t interrupted anything?” Joshua tilted his head at you.

“No, you came at a good time.” Saved you from them becoming more aggressive in trying to wrangle anything out of you.

He raised a hand and placed it on top of your head. “You must’ve been working hard. Have a rest.” You heard the telltale jingle, and the Phoenix’s flames of rejuvenation washed over you. The soreness in your muscles melted away and every nerve in you sparked with renewed life. “I thought I should let you know first—I’ll need you to be with me during the ball. My brother has… other matters to attend to.”

Other matters probably being that Jill had a free hand and no dance partner that night, if you had to hazard a guess. “I see.”

“This wouldn’t pose any problems, would it?” He removed his hand from your head.

If he didn’t need you, you’d probably be stationed elsewhere outside for guard duty, anyway. “Not at all.”

“Thank you for taking care of my brother all the time.” Clive’s smile always looked genuine.

You nodded. “It’s my pleasure.”

“If he’s being too pushy or causing you any problems, you can come straight to me. I’ll handle it.”

“Clive…” Joshua protested.

“Of course, I will.”

Joshua made a sulky expression, evidently displeased that the two of you had turned on him. Clive patted him on the shoulder unhelpfully, then steered him away and left you to return to your sparring. A non-issue for you, since Joshua had eased away all your scrapes and fatigue from your earlier session.

Touching the top of your head with your own hand, you stared after their retreating backs.

You’d admit to no one but yourself that you were a little curious.

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

Although, being curious and actually getting answers were two different things.

Having seen it for years by now, the grand ball celebrating the formation of Rosaria didn’t quite faze you anymore, but it would always be quite the sight. Joshua had once described it as a garden steeped in a myriad of colours, sprawling with diversity, and you had thought he was waxing too much poetry, but he was right. Even though they were all dressed for the same event, it was obvious even to your unrefined eye; the differences in their updos, the cuts in their garments, the way they were poised and how they interacted—they came together as an amalgamation you could only awe at from a distance. You’d never see a sight like this anywhere else in Valisthea.

Though, to you, that was just what it was reduced to: at best, a lively sight. All the guests here could enjoy themselves, but you were more attentive to how a man draped in white stumbled a little too close to the table, a woman hiding something under the fluffy layers of her skirt (it was food), a particularly rugged man lingering far too long at the utensils. No one noticed how you were watching them like a hawk, and if they glanced in your direction, their focus would probably fall on the Archduke sitting diagonally in front of you.

Speaking of him, he turned in his chair and touched your idle fingers. You glanced down at him from where you stood. “Don’t be so tense, dear commander.”

“It’d be troublesome for me if you suddenly got assassinated.”

He smiled at you, amused. “That’s very unlikely. Something like that would reward the perpetrator with nothing but hostility from the whole of Valisthea.”

In particular, you were looking out for any silver-haired man with a strange asymmetrical haircut. The Kingdom of Waloed was like a boisterous child who had no problem stirring up trouble with anyone and everyone.

You also knew Joshua was so stubborn that he put every mule to shame, so you just said, “Right, of course.”

Your gaze briefly fell on a mop of black hair amongst the sea of people, followed by a swish of cascading grey hair. Clive and Jill seemed oblivious to everything around them and had that silly drunk smile at each other despite being completely sober. (Clive had promised not to drink, should anything happen.) In the past, there would be droves of women flocking to Clive’s side—you supposed he seemed a tad more approachable without the title of Archduke—but in recent years, Jill would never leave his side at parties. The envious eyes that followed her didn’t escape your notice, but it was Jill, so she could handle herself.

Fingers grasping Joshua’s hand, you guided it back towards the tabletop. Without releasing it, you blinked down at him. “When do you suppose the First Shield is going to announce his engagement to Lady Jill?”

Joshua fixed you with wide eyes. “They aren’t engaged.”

“Why aren’t they? They behave like they are.”

“Well…” Joshua was mulling over it like trying to explain an advanced concept to a child. You definitely weren’t a child, though. “He will in due time, I suppose? There have been a lot of unsettling matters as of late. I expect he will once things settle down.”

At this rate, you thought Jill just might take the reins into her own hands. You cocked your head silently and let go of Joshua’s hand and stood up straight again.

It probably wasn’t good practice to be chatting with a Shield so long in front of guests, after all. Most of them had already greeted Joshua, so they weren’t paying much attention to either of you. If it were the time for politics, they certainly would be, but in the time of party and dancing they would much rather relax and soak in the atmosphere elsewhere. He did speak to some of them briefly whenever he got up to serve himself more food (he refused to let a servant help him with that) but you thought it was probably to distract others from the fact that he was demolishing the desserts. Even now he was delicately slicing at a gargantuan piece of chocolate cake.

Your eyes followed a lady who was regarding her dance partner with a giddy smile.

“You aren’t interested in getting engaged, Your Grace?”

Joshua coughed loudly.

“Did you not take your medicine again?” You started digging in your pocket. The healer always left you some whenever you were assigned to him.

He raised a hand, the other covering his mouth, and you paused. The look he gave you after was almost exasperated. “Why… Why are you curious about that?”

“You are of age, but you always turn down any nobles interested in talks of becoming betrothed.”

“That’s… true, but…” The well-spoken Archduke was floundering for words.

“And you don’t appear to be interested in courting anyone, either.”

“I don’t?”

“No?”

Joshua looked at you flatly.

You frowned. “Are you perhaps interested in men?”

Reaching for a napkin, Joshua dabbed at the corner of his mouth even though it was clean. “Could I ask that we table this conversation for later?” He seemed to have composed himself.

A low, outsider voice interjected, “No, no, now I’m awfully curious, too. What’s your answer? Your Grace?”

You barely had time to scold yourself for losing focus on your original task, hand whipping to the hilt of your sword. Your stance was interrupted by Joshua leaping out of his seat, eyes big with pleasant surprise at the man in front of his table. He held a hand out for a handshake. “Cid! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Then, after a brief pause, he added, “I don’t recall sending you an invite.”

Vaguely recalling that was the name of the person who’d sent Joshua a not-urgent letter, you scanned him up and down. His attire seemed entirely too casual and it was apparent that he hadn’t made any effort to dress for the occasion, and the smell of alcohol was radiating off of him, but his posture and every muscle seemed far too relaxed. He didn’t seem in a good condition to attack, anyhow.

“You didn’t,” Cid affirmed, grasping his hand back. “I’m quite hurt.”

“I apologise, but having an outlaw around here seemed less than ideal.” Joshua was in correspondence with an outlaw? “But you’re already here, I suppose. Did you come here in search of something?”

Cid waved a hand dismissively. “Not tonight, Lord Rosfield. Tonight I’ll be but a simple man luxurying in life’s simplest and greatest pleasures.” He must be here for the free ale, judging by the sloshing mug in his other hand.

Maybe Joshua didn’t catch on to that, because he looked a little confused. “I see.”

Turning his attention to you instead, Cid extended a hand for another handshake. “This young lady here glowering at me must be the Shield I’ve heard so much of.”

If you really had been glowering at him, you were sure your expression was now a perplexed one. Hesitantly, you accepted his firm hand. “You’ve heard about me?”

Cid shrugged. “Genius knight, one of the youngest ever to achieve the title of a commander, the most favoured of the Ar—”

Joshua suddenly batted at Cid’s hand like a cat did at something unpleasant, breaking the grip between the two of you. Wearing a very taut smile, he circled around the table and placed a hand on Cid’s shoulder. “It’s been a while since you’ve last seen my brother, Cid. Would you like to go greet him?”

Cid grinned at him knowingly. “I never pegged you as a coy one. But it would be my utmost pleasure to, Lord Rosfield.”

The two of them pulled off into the crowd, and you plodded after them carefully. The idea of an outlaw roaming around in the walls of Rosalith didn’t sit quite right with you, but no one seemed to be paying him any heed, so maybe it was okay? There was an unspoken rule of no conflict or violence at this celebration of unity as well, so perhaps anyone with grievances against him would hold it back just for tonight.

They located Clive, and shared a few words that you didn’t fully listen to, with your eyes trained on the surrounding people instead. You only caught whiffs of information like how this uncouth man was actually the Dominant of Ramuh, and they had some plan or other that involved the Mothercrystals and the Blight. If it was something you needed to be involved in, Joshua would tell you, so you tuned out their drones and honed in on your task.

After a while, when they had finished, Cid wandered off again outside for a smoke, and Clive and Jill retired themselves into a secluded balcony. Joshua turned to you, tugging on your hand.

“If you feel worn out, I could call someone to stand in for you.”

This was hardly anything. “I would be more concerned about yourself.”

The rest of the night passed without incident. It was a good thing all of Joshua’s concerns had been unfounded. The guests streamed out of the ballroom in trickles, and you followed Joshua as he went to bid them farewell at the castle gates. It must’ve been hours past midnight by the time they had all left, and although you were accustomed to long working hours, the same probably didn’t go for Joshua’s poorer constitution.

Unexpectedly, he inclined his head towards you. “Would you care to go on a little walk with me in the gardens?”

You sighed. “I wouldn’t be able to convince you to retire for the night, would I?”

Joshua pretended to give it some thought. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Then I don’t quite have a choice here.”

The stars behind in the sky decorated his almost cheeky smile, and you took you by the hand and started towards the empty gardens.

Servants and soldiers would be bustling here in the day, traipsing from one end to the other, tending to the plants, or simply taking a breather under the benevolent shelter of the gazebo. Somehow, after the Night of Flames, you felt like the gardens were even brighter, every stem and leaf spruced to verdant life. Stoned pathways snaked their way through the blanket of grass, but whoever had laid them out had done a good job in making them feel like decorations rather than an intrusion.

You knew this place like the back of your hand, but your interest was piqued again when you found a familiar flower, red petals curved outwards as if stretching lazily.

Slowing your pace, you gestured to it. “That’s the one you said used to be ground for cosmetics, right?”

Joshua’s gaze followed your hand, and he stifled a laugh. “Did you know you’re the only one who remembers everything I say?”

“It sounds a little depressing when you put it that way, so please don’t.”

“But it’s true.” He reached out to you, cupping your cheeks with his hands and angling your head upwards to face him. You didn’t flinch. “Also, did you know you’re a very important person to me?”

The moonlight made his golden locks glisten white.

You reached up to grab his wrists. “Of course, I knew that.”

His look softened. “Would my very important commander allow me to have this dance?”

This time, you averted your eyes. “I don’t know how to.”

The way of the sword was all you’d been taught, and fighting was nothing like the elegant and tranquil movements that belonged in a ballroom.

“I could teach you,” Joshua offered.

There was no music except for the buzzing of the crickets, but you didn’t see the harm. “Just for a short while.”

“Here, like this.” Stepping closer, he clasped both of your hands and positioned them outwards by your side the way you saw most people postured back in the ballroom. “Follow me. It’s fine if you happen to step on my feet.”

You found the motions unfamiliar, completely unlike the sharp and jarring reflexes you had during battle, but you still felt a tinge of deja vu. The way you kept your gaze locked at the ground to make sure your feet didn’t stumble reminded you much of your days when you’d first picked up the sword; untrained and uncertain. You were sure you looked nothing as graceful as the women were back there, and Joshua was probably practising extra caution to watch out for you, too.

The flowers in the garden smelled sweet.

You glanced back up at Joshua. “By the way, you never answered my question if you were interested in men.”

Joshua fumbled and trod on your boot. It barely hurt, but you huffed.

“My apologies. I…” He squinted at you like he was trying to figure something out. “I don’t understand why you could be so curious about this.”

“I already mentioned it, didn’t I? Are you not worried about finding a betrothed?”

He slowed to a halt, and you did the same. “It’s not that I’ve been avoiding it—I’ve simply been preoccupied with… other things, is all.”

You tilted your head. “I see. Then I’ll have to assume the rumours are true.”

Joshua blinked quizzically. “What rumours?”

“You must’ve heard of them. I’m talking about these.”

Your reflexes were always going to be much faster than Joshua’s—you dropped your hands along with his down to your sides, leaning forward until the tips of your noses met, sharing a breath. His pretty blue eyes were so wide, so confused, and for the first time in a while, a grin stretched itself out across your lips.

“Did you know? I’m not that oblivious.”

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

Author’s note: I’m not actually sure what the ranks of knighthood are, so I’m just going to say there are several commanders in the ranks and then one lord commander.

Also, Clive’s hair was styled in the flashback but became unkempt afterwards because he was pretty much a slave, so I wonder if he’d continue styling his hair as an adult in this kind of AU.

#joshua rosfield #joshua rosfield x reader

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whumpasaurus101 · 9 months

Text

Buttercup (2)

niko has NOT left my brain, so enjoy this LMFAOO i promise there will be more hurt in the next pieces that are to come MWUAHHAA

Cw: Beating / start of an interrogation / if i left anything out just lmk!!! <3

part one

---

Niko let out a groan as he stretched out his legs, his whole body feeling stiff- that wasn't even a close enough word to it. His body felt like hell. He cracked his eyes open, his vision a foggy mess. He went to rub the crust from his eyes but was stopped by a sudden- ‘clank’.

His heart stopped, eyes widening as he looked up above him, his two wrists were cuffed together with handcuffs, linked through the bed frame. Nonononono- shit he had already fucked up the plan enough, and now he was trapped in his captor’s house.

His eyes darted around the room, desperately trying to take everything in. The walls were bare, the mattress against his back was smooth, gentle- but it was not fitting for the situation he was in.

The door opened, cutting Niko out of his thoughts. The tall figure emerged from the doorway, “Good morning, buttercup,” Martyn cooed.

Niko tried his best to sit up, but his hands severely restricted him, “Let me go,” he growled, eyes glaring hard at the smirking target.

“Oh, love, that’s not the manners you should have!” He stalked forward in long strides, each step making Niko’s heart beat faster and faster. He kicked back against the bed, pressing his back right up against the metal frame.

In one motion, Martyn snatched up Niko’s chin, digging his nails against the other’s pale skin, “Buttercup, from now on you will speak to me only with respect, understood?”

Niko winced as he felt the nails slice into his skin, but oh how the words filled his chest with boiling lava, he clenched his fist before spitting up at the man’s face.

He knew he was fucked as Martyn’s false sweetness immedietly dropped to a stone cold look. His condescending grin dropping in a flash.

Niko bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to ignore the way his heart slammed against his chest, petrified.

Martyn slowly reached up to his face, wiping away the residue against his skin with the back of his hand, wiping it against Niko’s shirt and before Niko could even brace himself, he plummeted his fist against Niko’s face.

Niko let out a cry, completely caught off guard as he lurched against the restraints. He instantly felt blood roll down his temple. His head throbbed as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Looks like you have a lot to learn,” Martyn growled, grabbing a fistful of Niko’s shirt, bringing them face to face as he leant down, “But that’s more than okay with me. I look forward to seeing that sparkle in your eyes fade.”

Niko tried to kick out, desperate to get the man off of him but Martyn was quick to straddle his hips, sitting back on Niko’s legs. Niko squirmed as much as he could but it was no use. The man wouldn't get off of him.

“Apologise.”

Niko could feel his wrists being rubbed raw by the metal cuffs, he pulled once more, seeing if there was any way he could free himself but it just seemed impossible.

The fists crashed into his liver next. He let out a howl of pain, whimpering as he tried to catch his breath but the pain was overwhelming. “Sto-stop-“ he gasped, gritting his teeth as he tried to fight against the pain.

A hand gently ran through his hair before tightening into a harsh fist, “Apologise.”

Niko desperately shook his head, breathless as he tried to form words but he just couldn't.

Martyn let out a sigh before slamming his fist twice full force into Niko’s ribs. Niko’s mouth gaped open in a cry but before a sound even escaped his mouth, Martyn punched him in the stomach. Again and again and again. The merciless blows were non stop until-

“I'm sorry!!!” He sobbed, “‘m so-sorry, sto-stop.”

The weight left his lap and he let out a shaky breath, his eyes screwing shut. He didn't want to look at that sick excuse of a man. He wanted to be home. God, he was pathetic.

“Open your eyes for me, buttercup.”

Buttercup.

The name made him feel sick, bile slowly rising up his stomach as he gulped. He took one last breath, his chest rising and falling shakily before he cracked open his eyes, tears instantly falling down his face.

Martyn smirked, “There’s my darling,” he cooed, gently brushing a curl from the other’s eyes and tucking it behind his ear. Niko felt sick.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Nikos' head snapped over to look. There, stood a man dressed in a full suit, earpiece in his right ear as he held a pile of clothes, “The room is ready sir.” With a hum, Martyn nodded, walking over and taking the clothes from him, “Thank you. We shall be there momentarily.”

Niko shrunk back, what room? Where was he going?? The door closed and Martyn turned to Niko with a smile;

“Buttercup, you must feel so uncomfortable in those clothes!”

Niko looked down to the clothes he had on, his white button-up shirt, blood stains had splattered down from his face. He gulped before looking back up to the target who smiled at him, “Alright, the rules are simple, cutie, I-” He smiled, taking out a key from his pocket, swinging it around his finger, “Am going to unlock the handcuffs. But if you do so as even try to pull anything stupid, I will skin you alive, comprende?”

Niko grimaced, nodding his head fast. His arms were dead from pins and needles, he had tried to wiggle his fingers to try keep any circulation in his hand, but it was too late., His shoulders ached from this position. Martynn slowly made his way over, still twirling the key around his finger, “Alrighty, rise and shine, darling,” He smiled, leaning forward and unlocking the first lock. Niko’s arm fell down instantly and he let out a groan. Feeling suddenly rushing through from his shoulder. Once the other half was unlocked, Niko wrapped both arms around his waist, closing his eyes as he let out a relieved sigh.

Martyn chuckled, “Cute.” He then grabbed Niko by a fistful of his shirt, hauling him up to stand, “Alright, shirt off, bottoms off- don't make it weird. Let's be nice and quick, hm? We have things to do!”

Niko shrunk back, no. There was no way he was complying. It was just them two both in the room - yes. But it was Martyn. Martyn raised his eyebrow, unimpressed, “Buttercup, you are just not making this easy for me, are you?”

Niko set his jaw, glaring at the man before him. His defiant act stayed until the other took out a gun with a sigh, cocking the gun, “I really didn't want to do this, you seemed like you were gonna be fun but-” Martyn shoved the mouth of the gun against Niko’s temple. Niko’s eyes widened in fear, whimpering as he looked up at Martyn, tears in his eyes, “W-wait! I- I’ll do it.” Martyn smirked, not dropping the gun;

“Very well then!”

Niko set his jaw, quickly wiping away a tear with the back of his hand before slowly unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes boring into the ground. He slumped slightly in relief as the gun was removed from his head, his fingers trembled with every button.

Martyn then handed him a black crewneck, the cotton was soft as Niko slipped it on. His eyes tried to ignore the purple and blue colours that were blossoming against his ribs. He tugged down the jumper fully before looking up at Martyn.

Martyn sighed impatiently, “You know what I’m going to ask.” When Niko didn’t move, Martyn threw down a pair of tracksuit bottoms to the bed, “Right, be like that. I'm only giving you a few seconds,” He huffed before turning around and facing the wall. Niko gratefully rushed to change into the new tracksuit bottoms.

“Hands in front,” Martyn ordered, smirking at how Niko obeyed immediately. “These, stay right there, understood?” he asked, grabbing Niko’s wrists and forcing them together. “You will not lash out unless you want your hands to be ziptied until you earn back my trust, right?”

Niko clenched his jaw tight but slowly nodded, his hands already feeling heavy.

After wrestling the blindfold over Niko’s eyes and securing it, Martyn opened the door and shoved Niko out, his hand on the other’s lower back as he guided the other down the stairs and to the basement.

He was sat on a wooden chair, hand tied tightly behind his back before the blindfold was quickly whipped off. Niko had to squint, blinking a few times as he adjusted to the bright light which shone over the table in front of him.

Martyn smirked, “You might start getting scared, my buttercup, but don't you worry, you're in good hands! Isn't that right, Marcus?”

Niko strained to look beside him, one of Martyn’s men stood beside him. He bit the inside of his cheek as panic seeped through his skin, his leg bobbing up and down anxiously as he looked between the two men, “You- you have the wrong guy-” He croaked out.

Martyn just hummed in amusement, “Sorry buddy, you used that line already. Marcus, if you please.”

Niko didn't have a second to process the words before Marcus’ hand grabbed a fistfull of Niko’s hair, as the other fist rose and plummeted against Niko’s face, blood splattering to the floor.

Martyn leant over the table with a sharp sneer, “Now then, who are you and who do you work for?”

Ohhh, he was completely and utterly screwed.

---

Taglist: @blood-enthusiast @deckofaces @whumpifi @sleepy-dogboy @whumpatize-me-captain @a-n-i-a-fan @sparrowsage @theelvishcowgirl @sorry-i-spaced @juniperspring @cherrychupachup @morning-star-whump (lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3)

#WOOOOOO #part to baaaaBYYYYYY #whump #whump story #whump series #niko #martyn #marcus #whumpee #whump drabble #whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #lee wrote something :o

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rosepinks-world · 1 year

Text

ＨＥＡＲＴＴＯＨＥＡＲＴSimon ‘Ghost’ Riley X Reader

You and Simon had something going on. God knows what it was but there was definitely something there. You understood he had a hard time with affection due to his past trauma and had to learn how to respect that. For example:

He hated PDA. I mean you weren’t big on it either but he didn’t even like to hold hands.

You understood why but it would be a lie to say it didn’t hurt your feelings slightly.

He hated taking his clothes off in front of you as they revealed the scars that littered his back. He wasn’t overtly insecure but he hadn’t had anyone see him in such a vulnerable, intimate situation for a long time.

And most of all he disliked hugs, that he didn’t initiate.

You found that the hardest to restrict.

Anytime he’d come back from a mission you’d just want to jump on him as soon as he walked through the door but to respect his boundaries you’d wait for him to make the move.

It had been five whole months since Simon had been on a mission and you weren’t even sure if he was still alive. You’d made your way to HQ ignoring the odd stares you got from the workers there and made your way outside preparing for 141s plane.

Men began to get off the plane but he was still out of sight.

Fuck fuck fuck

‘He’s gone, he’s fucking gone’ You thought

Until.

You saw a ridiculously tall figure in a skull mask climb down the stairs of the plane dragging behind three men that were all conversing. It looked like he was too until he saw you.

You’d normally think about how he might be angry with you because you were here but fucking hell you didn’t care.

You were just happy that he was alive!

You waited for him to get to the bottom of the stairs and then ran up to him wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head against his chest.

‘I thought you were fucking dead.’

He went stiff. He didn’t say anything in response and just stood there not even hugging you back and that’s when you remembered. You immediately pulled back beginning to apologise.

‘Oh fuck Simon I’m sorry I forgot-‘

But before you could fully apologise he’d pulled you back in holding your waist and bent over slightly to rest his head on yours.

He’d never done this before.

He hated feeling vulnerable or showing affection in front of people, but fuck he’d missed you so much.

Whenever he threw a knife through a guys fucking skull he’d think, What would y/n think of what I’m doing?

When bullets were flying past his head you were the person he thought of. How would y/n react if I got hurt? Or if I died?

And as he saw the innocent people dead and tortured on the floor he’d think, What if someone hurt y/n?

He’d chuckle slightly at that, God the things he’d do if someone dared look at you in the wrong way.

He was hugging you so tightly you honestly thought you might suffocate, you laughed into his chest ‘Jesus what’s gotten into you.’

‘Y/n I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’

‘Im fucked up, doesn’t take a genius to notice that but you’re always here. I think you deserve better than me, Im fucking difficult to love’

‘I deserve what I want. And I want you.’ You reasoned simply.

‘Fucking hell.’ He said tilting his head up. He wasn’t angry he was slightly giddy.

‘And You’re not difficult to love.’ You replied looking into his eyes holding his mask. ‘Because I love you.’

He almost shit himself when he heard that.

He was in shock to be honest.

No one had ever told him that before.

I don’t think he’d ever even felt love or know what it was like but he knew, he just knew that he felt the same way.

He held your head and kissed the top of it, then reached his hand to the lower part of your neck just above your chest. It sounded odd and probably looked odd to anyone but you two, but it was an unspoken touch that you’d both do to each other and it said three (in this case four) certain words.

Except this time he actually was able to say those words.

‘I love you too.’

(Jake and Amy | This was the only pic I found that matched my vision.)

#mw2 x reader #ghost cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod modern warfare #ghost mw2 #spotify #ghost fanfiction #task force 141 #simon riley x you #heart to heart

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captainlondonman · 2 years

Text

HI VIS

FIRST CLASS BIN MAN

‘Oh Christ, where am I? What time is it? Oh fuck I’ve pissed in my pants, look at the bloody stain all the way down my trousers. And fuck I’ve been sick all down my front. God what a bloody headache.’

Thomas was sat on the dirty wet ground back against a brick wall, , sitting in amongst what seemed like giant wheelie bins.

“Shit what a fucking awful smell.”

His nostrils were full not just of his own sick but the retching smell of fish bones and meat.

Slowly the picture stated coming back to him. He had just gone to Uni to get his results and what a shock, he had just got First Class honours. He had expected Upper second but shit man, a First. Totally amazing. He was on top of the world, any job would now be possible. He remembered hugging all his mates and like a gang they all went out to get smashed and celebrate. Smashed it was for Thomas as he must have been so out of his mind that he ended up down some back alley throwing up and passing out. While he was out cold he had pissed himself. One side of his trousers were totally stained with piss and he could smell it. With all he had had to drink he must have filled his chinos, once beige and now dark brown and still wet. Suddenly he saw that his cock had reacted to the warm wet piss and was erect stretching down his leg, a good meaty piece.

‘This is the last thing I need and how the fuck am I going to get home looking like this.’

So much for celebrating his degree when he ended up like this

As he started to get himself off the ground he heard the noise of a thundering truck backing up the alley with lights flashing, getting closer and closer.

God I’d better hide between these bins and hopefully no one will notice me . He sat back tight against the wall but the vehicle stopped and he heard both doors open.

‘Christ I’m done for’ he thought

Thomas heard the voices

‘Thank God its dry mate today. Another day just the same but it does me, and soon back to the depot and we can get a ciggie and a beer.

Too right, Joe. Make sure we don’t overdo it. Fucking shame that young geezer took off as we need another bloke on this round. A young cocky apprentice to show the ropes and giv us some relief, know what I mean.’

‘Forget the round mate I need my cock serviced by a young guy’ The other bloke said

‘Me too. Shit just saying this is giving me a knob on.’

‘What’s that noise between the bins?’

The two guys moved one of the wheelies aside and there was Thomas slumped trying to hide between the bins.

‘So what have we here?’

Standing in front of Thomas were two hulking bin men in full Hi Viz gear. Certainly 6’ 2”. One was around 50 with a good pot belly, his thick belt holding up his Hi viz trousers and allowing his belly to sit out over. He was wearing thick rubber wellies, a tight tee shirt and hi viz yellow waistcoat. All down his right area were tattoos He had a bull neck with double chin all unshaven, and hair erupting from the top of his T shirt. His head was totally shaved. The other guy was younger around 40 better build and had clearly done weights. His 6 pack showed through his T shirt but he wore a heavy Hiviz jacket on top, yellow Hi viz trousers and heavy worn rigger boots. Also a shaved head with a thick black beard and gold ring in his left ear. Not the guys to take any nonsense.

‘Er, I was out celebrating last night and have somehow ended up here, sorry’ said Thomas

‘Nae need to apologise but it must have been one fucking night judging by the sick down yer front and holy shit you have pissed herself as well. Some right ol mess mate

Right, lets help you up.’

The two bin men took Thomas by each arm and stood him up against the wall.

‘There you are. Christ you ain’t too bad, what’s that sticking out yer trousers. You’ve a bloody hard on mate and not a bad one at that.’

‘Er Sorry’ Thomas said trying to move his stiff cock so it was not so obvious.

‘Don’t mind us mate. Good viewing,’ the large one said giving himself a good rub between his groin.

‘You need to sort yerself out’

‘I’m not sure how I’m going to get home like this.’

‘Too right. Apart from the mess you stink mate’

The fatter guy gave his mate a side glance. ‘This could be what we are looking for’ his smile widening.

‘I reckon perfect.’

‘Sorry what are you saying?’

‘We are just finishing our round once we’ve loaded those wheelies and then back to the depot. Why don’t you get into the front between us and we’ll take you back with us to tidy up a bit and get you looking right.’

The two men had no difficulty is throwing the contents of the wheelie into the truck. The older guy got into the driver seat and the other said

‘Now young man get up and in between us.’

Thomas lifted himself into the long seat and the other guy pushed him along so his legs were touching the driver.

‘So what’s your name boy?’

‘Thomas.’

‘What a name, sounds fucking posh.’

The younger one said I’m Dave and the Big Un is Joe. Got that. You’ll know us well soon enough

‘So. What were you celebrating?’

‘I’d just got my Uni results’

‘Oh a clever boy then?’

‘Well yes, I got First Class honours so really pleased’

‘Christ knows what that is, Joe said, but suppose good enough to get you pissed’

‘Yes its great, makes it really easy to get a good job.’

‘Tell you what son you don’t have to look any further than us. You can join us, were looking for an apprentice kid to train on the bins, and keep Dave and I happy as well. You could be a first class binman.’ Joe said moving one of hands off the steering wheel and on to Thomas’s lap giving him a pat

‘I see myself in Finance actually.’

‘Oh do you actually? Tell you what Tam, you sound a right little stuck up shit telling me that. First class binman probably too good for you. I reckon a fucking ordinary binman more like.’

‘Sorry I don’t mean to be insulting but it is not what I have in mind.’

Thomas was sitting tightly between Dave and Joe each of his legs rubbing against theirs more with Joe very time he changed gear. He felt their shoulders up against him, felt their power, had the noise of the Hi Viz gear against his ears. He could smell their man smell and the stale smoke from their breathing. It was like nothing he had experienced before but he felt under their power and he liked it. Liked it so much that his cock started twitching again and lengthening down his trousers. The workies had seen his last stiff cock and he thought they seemed impressed, in fact the older one seemed to positively like and stare at.Thomas had seen him rubbing his own dick and a sly look had shown Thomas that his prick was in proportion to his size. Meaty and tenting in his HI Viz gear.

I daren’t let them see this, Thomas thought, and put his hands over his dick but he could not resist with the under hand gently stroking.

‘No way do I want to be a HI Viz working bin man’ thought Thomas but these men are really doing it for me even if Joe is overweight. They both seem thick but know what they want.

‘Ok Tam that’s us coming to the Depot’ Joe said

‘It’s Thomas really’ Thomas piped up

‘Too fucking posh for me that Tam. Tam it is and Tam it will stay’

‘I’m still a good walk away from home,’ Thomas said ‘and God knows what people will think of my clothes.’

‘You don’t need to worry about that Tam, come into the hut with us and we will sort you out. We have you looking decent in no time’

As he clambered down from the lorry he let is hands slip away and Dave got a good look at Thomas’s dick, not as hard still still poking out. Dave looked over at Joe with a wink

‘We’ve got a winner here Joe.’

Joe walked into the hut with Thomas behind and the first thing was the small of ciggies and general stench of body odour. He tried not to breathe but the more he resisted the more he wanted to smell and have his lungs full of the stench.

‘A bit of a smell Tam but you get used to it and it looks already as if your taking it in to your lungs. Right lets sort you out’

Joe opened a locker and took out some clothes throwing them down on a seat.

‘These are yours Tam perfect size, perfect fit and will makes you feel like a different bloke. Much better than all those stained clothes your’e wearing. You’ll be much more comfortable in these, just like a second skin.’

Thomas lifted the various items to inspect.

A pair of really dirty stained Hi Viz trousers in yellow with the reflective stripes, a T shirt that once had been white but now grey, frayed at the neck and ripped under the arms, A grey hoodie with what looked like tea stains down the front, a Hi Viz waistcoat and a jacket all dirty and well used. For foot wear a pair of thick cheesy looking socks and Doc Marten boots with yellow laces

‘I can’t wear these to walk home’ Thomas said looking in disgust at the Hi Viz gear. ‘They look worse than what Ive got on.’

‘Like Fuck’ Joe said ‘You think that piss stain all down your leg looks better. Trust me you’ll look a hell of a lot better is this stuff and feel better.

He picked up a bin bag and shouted ‘Now get out of these fucking clothes and get into the Hi Viz and just do as I say. Take all those bloody puked and piss stained clothes off including your boxers and get into this kit. And don’t worry bout us, we’ll go next door and make ourselves a brew while you change and I mean change and then well come back in to see the new you and you’ll find out what’s happens then.’

Feeling very self conscious and not understanding what the blokes meant Thomas stripped off and looked what to put on first. First try the socks. He looked at them and thought Christ these have been well used. He could not resist smelling them. God what cheesy feet the bloke must have had, it was as if they have never been washed but after his first reaction against them he found himself moving them up and down his nose breathing deeply , getting a kick. It gave him a headache and slightly blurry eyed as he slipped them on his feet. Next the Hi Viz trousers. As he looked inside them the guy had obviously always been. Commando and he could see some skid marks on the arse and piss stains at the front. The trousers were well used but still had a stiffness to them. They looked the right size as he pulled them up. His haziness was getting worse but he still knew what he was doing. Next the T shirt, Christ he could smell the BO. Thank God he could get home soon and get straight into the shower. As he pulled it over his head he felt his arms change. Suddenly they did not feel or even look as skinny as usual, there was good muscle which he had always wanted but through his hazy eyes his right arm started changing colour. There were tattoos in black red and blue. All the way down his arm totally covering all the way to his fingertips. He can’t be seeing right surely but as his mind became more boggled he thought yes my arm is covered in tattoos. Thomas slipped on the waistcoat and then the jacket. He was becoming more and more confused and was beginning to forget his name. What was it ?

Yeah Tam, I think . He went to put his hand up to his head to relieve the pain and saw that his hands were now grimy with dirty bitten nails, the fingers were yellow as if with nicotine. They were thick working hands. As he scratched his head where the hell had all his hair gone? He was bald totally shaven like a skinhead. He had strong wavy hair, so he vaguely. thought but he was scalped. As his hand moved around over his face he discovered he had rings in not just both ears but through his nose. How the hell had they got there. His head was throbbing and his confusion was even worse. A small part of him remembered him as the Uni graduate Thomas but more and more he was thinking of himself as Tam, beer and a night out with his skinhead friends getting into a brawl. He stepped into his 19 hole Doc. Martens, thick soles that had clearly kicked blokes on the ground in ne of his angry moments. As he tied the last boot up his head exploded and he thought his eyes were going. to pop out. He stood up quickly and looked into the mirror next to the locker.

‘Fucking hell, fucking great man’ Tam stood there looking at a Hi Viz clothed skinhead with a scar across one cheek and a spider’s web tattoo spreading up his neck. He looked bloody scary, takes no prisoners, rings in his ear and nose.

‘I’m a fucking skinhead working on the bins. Shit man who wants more? No need to fucking wok hard. Stcik with thosue stinking bins and the lads here and the getting out and having a punch up after a gutful of beers. Fucking perfect’

Tam was so pleased with himself that his cock had gone rigid and that meaty cock of Thomas’ was even bigger and thicker now and stood sticking straight out in his HI viz gear. ‘Shit man I’m so fucking horny’ he said rubbing his crotch.

The door opened and Joe and Dave walked in.

‘Well, it looks as if our new apprentice is getting off on his new look. So Dave we have our first class young bin man, Joe said starting to rub his own dick.

Tam could not take his eyes off the mirror seeing his image, his prick getting harder and harder and his hand rubbing up and down faster and faster.

‘Tom, quit the wanking now there’ll be time for that soon enough.’

‘So Joe what do you think.’ Dave said

‘Fucking amazing, shit he’s made me feel fucking horny. No way are we going back on the road until he’s been through his initiation with us.

‘I’m ready, Dave,’ Joe said unzipping his hi viz and pulling out his massive thick dick. He spat a big gob onto his hand and spread it up and down his cock. ‘That’s it getting it greased for a big fuck.’

‘I always love looking at that cock of yours Joe’ Dave said rubbing his own crotch.

‘Jesus,’ Tam said eyeing Joe’s prick. ‘That’s a fucking monster you have there. Are we all going to wank?’

‘No boy, this dick of mine is going up that arse of yours. All new boys get this and all of them want more after as you will.

‘So do as I say now and drop those hi viz trousers. Lets me see that cock of yours and I know you want a good look yourself. I promise you it’s a thicker dick that’s you had.’

‘I’m not fucking getting my gear off’ Tom shouted

Joe grabbed hold of Toms jacket and pressed his face against his.

‘You’ll fucking do as I say or do want me to force them down around your fucking knees. If that’s what you want then ye’ll get no spit and trust me you really feel my cock being pushed hard up that crack of yours’

Tam lowered his trousers

‘Now look at that cock of yours mate.. Not a bad bit of equipment and nice and hard. Don’t worry you’ll soon get your chance for that wank’ Joe said grabbing Tam’s cock and give it a mighty squeeze, Tam groaning with real pleasure

‘Now bend over facing Dave, that’s it my boy’

Tom bent forward and Joe let another big gob of spit drop on to his cock.

‘Shit that feels good’ as he rubbed his hand up and down his shaft

He took hold of Toms arse and spread his cheeks, bending down to let his wet tongue in to his crack.

‘Christ that arse of yours is high but get’s me more horny and ready for that fuck.’ With one finger he started moving into Tom’s crack moving it around and taking his second finger pushed that in too

‘Shit man.’ Tom moaned.

‘Shut up its only 2 bloody fingers. Just wait.’

Joe stood up and still with his hands parting Tam’s cheeks moved his hardened cock to the hole. Dave standing watching was by now rubbing his crotch.

‘Once you get that cock up his arse Joe then he can start giving me blow job. I love spunking down a new boy’s throat’

‘Don’t worry Dave his throat is all yours. For now I just want his arse’

Ok Tam get ready, this is what you want. It may hurt at first but once up you you’ll be moving up and down my rod begging me to cum insider you.

With his big arms around Tam’s waist he inched the head of his cock into Tams arse

‘Relax mate. The more relaxed you are the easier it will be’

‘Shit that’s one hell of a dick’ Tam said squirming in both agony and enjoyment

‘This is just the beginning. That arse of yours is begging for my big prick, I can tell the way your bum is reacting’

With his arms he started pulling Tom back slowly towards him, his cock nicely greased by his spit forcing its way up.

‘You see what I told you, relax, feels good don’t it?’

‘Shit it’s big, man but I fucking love it.’ Tom replied letting his arse move further up into Joe’s cock. With one shove from Tam Joe’s cock was up to the hilt and he could feel Joe’s beer belly rubbing against his arse.

‘Shit Joe. Let me feel that flabby belly of yours get right into my arse. Push it big man

‘Dave its time that cock of your got a bit of the action. Let our new boy see that cock of yours.’ Joe grunted loving the feel of his dick in Tam’s arse

Dave was ready and almost panting to get his dick out from his flies.

He stood in front of Tam with a raging erection and pulled his foreskin back.

‘See this cock, Tam, Dave said as he stood right in front of Tams face. You need to get this down that throat of yours. All part of your initiation.

‘Fuck that cock of yours Dave is rank. I can smell the piss’

‘Piss or no piss’ boy, its going down your throat’

Dave took hold of Tam’s head and inched his hard dick down the throat.

‘Stop fucking gagging boy and breathe it’ll be much easier. Let me see that spit of yours running down your face

Joe smirked. Now you’ve got both of us, me up that nice tight ares of yours and Dave’s cock down your throat.

Now Dave you know what you need to do next don’t you as you know I’m the boss

‘Sure boss, and with that Dave lent forward to took hold of Joe’s tits through his T shirt and started squeezing

‘Fuck that’s good Dave, you always know how to get me really worked up. Keep going and with my dick up Tams arse you can squeeze as much as you want.

‘Tam as for you, you can at last get your cock out and start wanking and all three of us are going to fucking erupt at the same time got it?’

Go on Dave move that cock of yours up and down in Tams throat’ Joe cried as he shoved his dick in and out of Ta’ms arse.

‘You love that boy don’t you?’ as he could hear Tam groaning, his hand down working his shaft

Joe said ‘You fucking loving that Joe I can see. Think this is our best apprentice yet. Go on let that belly of yours smack against his arse. I love seeing it’

‘Too bloody right. Shit man I’m going to come any minute he said as he gripped Tam, around the waist.

Go on Tam suck my dick as if your life depended on it. That’s some fucking throat you have. ‘Christ Joe I am about to come as well. What bout you Tam.?

A loud grunt from Tom and the way his hand was over his shaft said the same.

‘I’m fucking ready. I’m about to empty a fucking great wad of cum up yer arse boy. That’s it Dave really squeeze my tits.

Shit its coming arghhh I shooting now., With. That joe threw his head back and erupted his sack off cum up Tam’s arse

Dave seeing his mate in orgasm shot his spunk down Tams throat, moaning Fucking hell. Shot after shot of cum was too much for Tam as it ran down his chin on to his HViz jacket.

Feeling all this cum spurting into him from both ends was too much for Tam. This is what he always wanted. Real strong men, arse and face fucking him. With one almighty jerk he released jet after jet of young hot spunk all over the floor

‘Fuuuckin hell Tam shouted. I’ve never had a fuck or wank like that. Fucking terrific.’

The three men stood up and flicked off the drops of cum from their dicks looking at one another doing the same and pushed he cocks back into the hi viz trousers so that some cum would stick to the inside.

‘Well Tam that was your initiation to be a bin man.’

‘Joe you said sumthin about First class. I’ve never been first class in anything always fuckin dumb. Dina want to be anything else. Give me ciggies and beer that’s enough for me.

‘I tell you what Tam,’ Dave said ‘yer a bloody good fuck and as far as I’m concerned a first class bin man. Don’t you agree Dave?’

‘The best yet. I knew it as soon as we picked you up. Well done Joe you chose a right one. This time Lets make sure we keep him.’

‘Tell you what Joe, I ain’t going anywhere if you both can fuck and let me blow job you like that. So what say we get back out on the road and get the afternoon bins picked up and make sure we get back here for another session. I still have plenty of cum to get rid off.’

‘Good boy Tam. Dave and I have plenty to give you. ‘

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scarerjh · 1 year

Text

Coffee Prescription

Marcus Pike f!reader/you

Summary: Being treated in the hospital, Marcus Pike can’t resist the cute Doctor.

Warnings: None, just fluffity fluff.

Notes: A little meet cute. I haven’t actually seen The Mentalist so this may be a little OOC, but tough, it’s cute

“Marcus Pike!” hearing his name he quickly excused himself from the phone call and made his way toward the doctor.

“Yes!” a voice appeared as a man with a bandage on his nose and a phone to his ear stood up. He was cute! At least you would have some scenery while you worked. Escorting him into the examination room you introduce yourself before confirming his details and asking him to get comfortable on the examination couch.

“What happened?” you enquire as you wash your hands. You notice a little blush on his cheeks as he scoffs slightly.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going and walked into some plywood,”

“Oh dear,” you chuckle.

“Yeah,”

“Well, let’s look at the damage,” you gently start to peel the makeshift bandage from his nose, before apologising in advance for the sting as you cleaned it up; gently soaking the dried blood and wiping it away.

When following you into the examination room Marcus thought you were pretty, now, having you close as you tended to him, you were beautiful. When you sat back and gave a satisfied little hum, he couldn’t help but smile at how sweet it was.

“So, this plywood just attacked you out of nowhere?” you tease a little, trying to put him at ease as you clean up the mess.

“Yeah, just…pow,” he gestured towards his face in a mock punch, throwing his head back dramatically.

“I hope you called the police,”

“No need,”

“No need?! You should be pressing charges,”

“It’s all in hand,” he showed his badge.

“Oh! I bet that plywood is regretting his life choices right about now,”

“Definitely,” he chuckled. You were taken aback by how bright his smile was; eyes sparkling as little crinkles appeared around their edges, a dimple in his cheek giving him a boyish charm. Little did you know, the smile you returned was equally as captivating to Marcus, your expression open, honest, and genuine.

“So, what’s the damage?”

“You’re going to need a few stitches,”

“Well, there goes my beauty pageant,”

Setting up what you needed you were grateful for this distraction, desperately hoping he would forget you ever opened your mouth; his gorgeous face, the easy back and forth, the teasing was making you increasingly flustered. If you weren’t careful, you’d be kicking your feet and twirling your hair round your finger at any moment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have your pretty face back together in no time,” the words were out before you realised. As mortification quickly surpassed your embarrassment, Marcus smiled kindly as you averted your gaze, busying yourself with getting your equipment together. God you were cute!

With everything prepared you finally met his eyes again, and his smile was soft, not giving away anything to suggest he was uncomfortable.

“You ready?”

“I think so, is it going to hurt?”

“The stitches shouldn’t, but the numbing will,”

“Can I hold your hand?” he brazenly flirted, and your eyes widened in shock, but a little smile also graced your features letting him know it was well received, if unexpected.

“If I do this one handed you are not winning that pageant,”

“I really need to defend my title, Debbie from accounts is stiff competition,”

“I’ll do my finest work, I promise,”

After numbing you set to work, quiet concentration on your face as you teased the delicate skin closed.

Marcus’ nostrils were filled with your delicate perfume; with you so close he became transfixed by your eyes. The sheer focus in them really spoke to your competence, and as he allowed his gaze to linger, he noticed the most startling flecks of colour in your irises. From there he moved on to the swell of your cheekbones towards the tip of our nose, one of the few sounds in the room your soft breath as you worked. As you shifted, something glittered in his periphery, finding your little skull earrings he was unable to suppress a smile. A bit of a rebel, he assumed.

You weren’t oblivious to him studying your face, but you were concentrating, you weren’t letting some gorgeous FBI agent to deter you from your mission, even if you kind of wanted him to. You had the overwhelming urge to sniff him, a long deep inhalation of the scent of vetiver and something woodsy or musky. His studying gaze you could deal with, but the smile that suddenly appeared in the corner of your eye was too much and you looked up ready to question his amusement. What stopped you in your tracks was the two beautiful orbs of dark, chocolatey goodness, they were so dark you could barely make out his pupils. The reflection of the lights as his eyes met yours gave rise to flecks of amber, and the hold of your gaze by his stole your breath away.

Marcus’ fingers twitched at his side with the compulsion to gently caress the soft skin of your cheek. Were you feeling this too? He hoped to God you were.

There was a pull towards him, a magnetic movement of millimetres that had your heart racing whilst the air thickened around you both; your gaze dropping to a plush set of lips finally shocked you out of it.

“I’m so sorry,” you sat back, creating space between you to breathe.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so…it’s my fault,”

“No, I’m the professional here. I can get another doctor to finish off your stitches,”

“No, please, it’s okay,” he put a gentle hand on your arm. “Seriously, you have been nothing but kind, charming, and professional,” your shoulders relaxed slightly at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you,”

“You’re welcome, now let’s finished getting me pageant ready,” he grinned as he made you laugh; a full, hearty sound that he now wanted to use as his ringtone.

All finished up you each said a reluctant goodbye; handshake lingering, his large, warm grip firm as his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your skin as he thanked you, promising to dedicate his win to the cute doctor who fixed him up after his near-death experience. You blush furiously at his blatant flirting, returning a playful scold as you remind him he’s your patient.

Marcus left the room smiling, a light, airy feeling beneath his feet as he made his way out.

Exiting your room at the end of your shift there is a familiar face in the waiting room. Despite seeming a little nervous, his smile was radiant as he walked towards you.

“Let me guess…sucker punched by a cardboard box,” you use humour to intercept your nerves.

“Not even close,”

“Debbie from accounts has forfeited after seeing my incredible work,”

“No…but she should! I’m actually not here as a patient, I’ve been discharged,” he let it hang in the air, giving you time to back out, you were astute, you would know why he was here.

“Is that right?” a little rueful smile graced your lips as your lashes fluttered of their own accord.

“Yeah, no patient doctor business going on here,” he could barely hear his own voice as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Meanwhile you could hear little over the sound of your hopes chanting ‘ask me, ask me, ask me’. “So, would you like to go for a drink with me sometime? Or dinner? Or...anything really,” his eyes widened with hope, and it was incredibly disarming.

“Drink, or dinner, or…anything…sounds really good,” you beamed.

“Is now too soon?” damn those puppy dog eyes.

“I have time for a coffee,” you give in, unable to play it cool.

#marcus pike #agent marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fic #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike meet cute

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isleofdarkness · 6 months

Note

Writing this I realized my main thoughts on Evie's backstory are "DIE DIE GRIMHILDE DIE", to which... wow, what a surprise, never would have crossed my mind/s

AAAAAAAAAA WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS WOMAN. How fucking full of shit you have to be to starve a BABY for them to not be fat. Who starves a newborn? Who does that? Genuinely, who the fuck does that? Oh god, I hate her so much.

You know what pisses me off the most? THIS IS REAL. I mean, obviously is not real, but like- this shit happens A LOT. PEOPLE STARVE THEIR CHILDREN. Like, is common. I can name three or five friends of mine whose mothers implanted diet culture and self-hatred into them and GOD- I hate almond moms with a burning passion. Anyways, going back to the review-

“If she wasn't getting those, doctors are sure she wouldn't have made it even another two years.” Im ok, everything is totally fine, nothing wrong, everythi

“Grimhilde made sure her daughter knew how to sexually attract and please men.” 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

“Her bedroom, which had once been her beloved refuge, had become a place she couldn't stand due to all of the horrific memories made in that room.” “Evie felt the boy go completely stiff, breath coming far too quickly but with practiced silence- who even developed the skill to hyperventilate silently?” You depict abuse victims so well and in a way that doesn't feel caricatured, they feel real. Thank you.

“He was terrified, shaking and tense, the same kind of terror Evie felt when her mother was angry.” Poor babies, they deserve the world :(

“When his blue eyes finally meet hers, he suddenly looks so much older. In her moments of vulnerability, when she dared look in her cracked mirror, she knew her eyes could look like that.” Is this about Evie looking younger due to undernutrition? (“...she's clearly underdeveloped. The poor girl looks like she's thirteen without her makeup.”)

Evie and Malcolm are the cutest, I want to hug both of them.

Also fuck that guy, whoever he is. I'm glad Agony beat his ass.

“Agony was the first girl her own age she had ever met. The first girl she'd ever been friends with- the second friend she'd ever had. Evie was absolutely thrilled.” I love them, Evie's so in love.

“Evie dared not get up as Grimhilde screamed at her. She screamed about the company Evie was keeping, using every racist term towards Black people that she knew, calling Agony a cripple and Malcolm a retard (along with several other derogatory terms for people with Down Syndrome that I won't repeat,) insulting them based on their backgrounds (Agony's "whore mother" and calling Malcolm a slave because of his mother-) if there was a way Grimhilde could insult the two, she used it. She blamed Evie for her assault, shaming her for "being a cheap whore instead of a princess" and acting as though Evie had consensually had sex and hadn't been a child raped by an adult. She forced Evie to apologize to her, then forced her to apologize to the man who'd assaulted her for the "trouble she'd caused" and having people "hurt an innocent man." ” I HATE HER SO MUCH. GOD. WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER. The fact a child rapist knew he could go to her and tell her about how he had assault her daughter multiple times and, not only not face any consequences, but also get that child to APOLOGISE TO HIM talks about how much of a shitty mother AND person Grimhilde is. Also, all the slurs? 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

I had two moods reading this "Evie, Malcolm and Agony are the cutest and deserve the best" and "FUCK GRIMHILDE, I HATE HER"

Thankfully, the worst part is about to be over. Now she has a friend with connections to people who can help her. Of course, better doesn't mean her life is going to be perfect.

(TW for starving a child and referenced child sexual abuse and assault)

The amount of times I've heard about people restricting how much a baby eats to give them a "slender figure-" babies are supposed to be fat! That baby fat they have is very important! And babies are growing so rapidly, they need a certain amount of calories so that they can grow and their bones can fuse and their brains can develop! I agree, it's messed up.

Children deserve to not worry about their weight. They deserve decadence and the joys of life. Yeah, they still need to be healthy, but children deserve to have candy and sweets and food that isn't always healthy. Their bodies are still developing, they need this stuff because even unhealthy things make up a natural part of their diet. They have a minimum daily calorie requirement and certain vitamins to help their internal organs develop properly. To deprive them of that and blame their perfectly healthy weight is not only cruel, it's medically dangerous. Let kids exist without counting calories and sabotaging their bodies by trying to stay slim.

Thankfully, she's getting better. It's slow-going and doctors aren't sure how much is going to be permanent, but she's getting better and the damage is starting to mend.

Absolutely horrific to put that on any child, especially one who is elementary school age, Grimhilde.

Thank you. I'm trying really hard to convey how horrific child abuse is, and I'm glad I'm getting it across.

They do deserve the world. They deserve the entire galaxy.

You know how children have this young look in their eyes? Like you can look into their eyes and tell that they haven't seen as much of the world, that they're innocent and carefree? It's like this beautiful spark they have in their eyes. Malcolm didn't have that spark. His eyes were serious, tired, filled with way too much experience for someone so young. Evie had seen that spark leave her eyes over the past year or so, and she had seen how it made her face seem older, more adult. A child without that spark just seems older than they are, and that's what Evie meant. Malcolm, like her, didn't have that innocence anymore. He'd been through too much, like she had, and it had forced him to mature far too early.

They're very cute.

He was just some minion. That was one of the only times Agony didn't regret using her power (most times have been on accident and, while this one was, too, she doesn't feel that sorry that it happened.)

They were already so important to each other.

Evie had found the first two positive connections to other people she'd ever had, the first two friendships, the first two connections to children her own age, and Grimhilde spent a solid hour insulting them. It was horrific. As for that guy, you'll be pleased to know that Agony told her uncle and that that guy is never going to hurt Evie or any other small child ever again.

Both moods are extremely valid and are exactly what I was going for. Thank you so, so much.

#descendants #descendants au #the darkness speaks #isle of darkness #original character #descendants oc #amara olympian #malcolm mim #genevive isabella char #descendants evie #caps #swearing

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redflagsandbanners · 2 years

Note

You wanted a prompt i will give ya one. I do love robin, but I've a special love for Nancy realising her feelings. Nancy's not realising she's in love with Robin because she acted like this around barb too. And it's the mixed emotional of realising she's in love with Robin, and that she was in love with barb,and it's the mourning all over again. And she's afraid to tell Robin, but Robin says something or does something because she's worried about Nancy and the floodgates just open

(if there's a duck emoji in there somewhere, i apologise. My phone sometimes converts words to emojis 🧍 (and 🦆 is and lmao)

It starts with her presence. Around school, at first; falling into step next to Nancy on the halfway; hovering, casually, against the locker with a muffled smile; eye contact during class and cheeks blushing a light pink color as soon as Nancy's gaze catches back onto her.

A void, finally filled - not in the way Jonathan filled in for Steve, not in the way newspaper minions filled in for the studying alone in the library.

A friend and yet -good god- Nancy hates the way she thinks of Barb because Robin is not a replacement -she is truly, really, deeply not- but the comfort of her presence is... something so similar to Barb.

It is how something in Nancy's chest tightens and loosens at the same time when Robin leans over her shoulder. How Nancy cannot help but turn her head in hopes of catching the scent of her again. Something about having wanted to burying herself in Barb's neck during sleepovers; something about wanting to press her forehead on Robin's collarbone.

Something about the utter quietness that fills the world when Barb was close - when Robin is close.

Steve -Jonathan- they were so exciting in their own way. Space that needed to be filled with a variety of motions; parting, or loud music, or the thrill of sneaking around empty houses and bedroom windows and being ready to run to a car as soon as the alarm blasted in the morning.

Robin -Barbara- their comfort is -was- a completely different thing. Warmth and quiet and a peaceful pace of a racing heartbeat.

Less like a friend, more like the prospect of a lifelong partner. More like...

Well. Didn't that work out nicely last time?

With a deep groan, Nancy puts her head in both hands, letting her shoulders curl inwards. What is she doing with this? What is she-

"Nance? You good? Those are some weird noises".

She chuckles and drops both hands, feeling goosebumps raise over her skin as if Robin has reached across the table and traced a hand up her arm.

Deep blue eyes look over at her with a curious glimmer and a hidden smile in them.

"Can't focus on anything".

"Yeah, you've been kind of out of it for weeks now. Want to talk about it?"

Nancy shivers, wrapping an arm around both knees were they are pulled against her chest. The chair has started to feel stiff now.

"I'm fine..." - she is not - "...weird nights".

"Got those nightmares?"

"Always".

"Sorry", Robin flinches in sympathy. "Anything I can do? I make some exceptional chamomile".

Nancy laughs, feeling the grin spreading and spreading and brightening across her face. The cold slips out, to be replaced with so much comfort, that leaves Nancy lightheaded with it; leaves her gulping an overwhelming pressure in her throat and leaves her grasping at her own arms so her mind can return to orbit.

God, she has been cold for so long, she doesn't know what to do with this heat. Warmth, like a candle's flame. Warmth, like...

It only takes Robin socked foot pulling away from where it has been popped up on Nancy's chair, and nudging her hip.

A simple touch, reminding her how she wants more. So much more, like a starving person walking past an open window and first smelling the cooking food. She wants, wants, wants, like she can never have, in the painfully familiar way she'd felt with Barb.

It only takes Robin exhaling a soft; "Oh, god, Nance", for Nancy to completely crumble against her collarbone.

Long arms immediately wrap around her. Robin's forehead drops on the top of her head, nose nuzzling into her hair and she is so warm.

God, she is in love. She knows what this is now and it is- She is in love with Robin like she was in love with-

The sob rips out of her so loud her mom's head snaps up from where she is washing the dishes a few steps away. The woman meets Robin's panicked gaze from the distance but Nancy doesn't react to her when she comes closer to offer whatever there is in the world to offer to her daughter crying in her friend's arms.

When Robin moves to let go and pass Nancy over to her mom, she almost cries out in pain.

With perfect clarity, "Robin, don't let go- don't let go, please - "

"Okay. Okay, okay. I'm not letting go", Robin immediately tightens her arms again, glancing up at Karen Wheeler for help.

The woman looks to be in just as pain, but she smiles and leans a hand to affectionately brush a strand of hair behind Robin's ear. And to Robin's utter terror, Karen leans down to press a kiss on the top of Nancy's head before leaving them alone. The woman is leaving them alone as if she knows something Robin doesn't and how does she even handle this-

Care. Alright. Deep breaths.

She will handle this with care.

"I'm not, I promise, okay? I'm not letting go".

Good god, Robin feels shaky against her. Palms rubbing up and down Nancy's back, long arms tacking her closer.

Another sob rips out of her, fists clenching around the girl's shirt. But they are not close enough, the position of their chairs and the corner of the table wrenching them apart.

Aware of how it'll look, Nancy slips from the chair on her knees on the floor. Robin jolts up -in shock- but she doesn't get to move far before arms are wrapped around her waist.

Nancy presses her head in Robin's chest, muffled cries pressed against her stomach.

"N-Nance..." - her voice is broken but so soft around the nickname - "...you're kind of freaking me out, love".

"I'll tell you", Nancy tries to promise against her stomach, a deep fluttering thudding into her chest at the term of endearment.

Robin presses her forehead harder against her hair, wraps her arms tighter around her shoulders and cups the back of her head with tenderness.

"I'll tell you but, just- just hold me".

And so Robin does.

#oh this is so messy i am so sorry my man #ronance prompts #anonask

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