#THEY SHOULD HAVE ALL REMAINED ALIVE AND TOGETHER
Text
hello everyone :) inspired by this post by @burrowingregg, please enjoy my thoughts on "what if crozier fucking dies and little becomes captain"
if he dies before sir john
one of two outcomes. sir john either doubles down ("we have to find the nwp for francis!"/"well now that the haters are gone its time to have Real Men Solve This Like Champs") or he goes hm. maybe this is a sign and actually this is a dire situation. perhaps we should pack it in men
i dont rlly have any thoughts on this except i am rlly curious what this would do to fitzy. does he ramp up the charming pretender routine now that he's the uncontested no1 son and crozier cleary didnt know what he was talking about or would this be an early wakeup call and jumpstart the fury beach convo w blanky?
if he dies pre ep4 (tuunbaq)
the lashing would not turn out this way bc little wouldnt have hickey punished as a boy
-> less men would berth on erebus
mutiny later maybe? definitely different
(is this a good moment to squeeze in some solittle bc they have to cooperate to keep all the men in check.)
definitely better communication within terror command bc the lieutenants will know little is going to hear them out i think and since little sucks at asserting authority hed have to rely on them more than crozier did
weird tension between jopson and little i think. is it sexual. is it antagonistic. actually maybe i could see jopson joining a mutiny in a crozier dead scenario hmmm…. heres how hickeyjopson can still win !!1!!!!!
if he doesnt survive the withdrawal
jopson.exe stopped working
maybe i could see jopson joining a mutiny in a crozier dead scenario hmmm…. heres how hickeyjopson can still win !!1!!!!! (1).docx
joplittle coworkers to enemies speedrun. i think jopson would grieve so fucking much but then go Ah! We compartmentalise this emotion! Nothing easier than that :) and then hed be so fucking passive agressive as the new captains steward without even realising bc WHY does little walk around alive and hale when little was the one who got crozier the alcohol that killed him how is that fair (jopson is Not at a point where he is willing to confront the fact that he himself was just as much an enabler as little, if not more so)
also sidenote but he wouldnt shave little since that actually never was in a stewards job description in the first place lol no homoerotic blade to throat interaction for you, sir!!
i do think little and fitzjames would work well together! they did a good job on coordinating the carnivale and fitzjames is not someone who lashes out a lot, which is good bc little does not deal well w getting screamed at
i think blanky would become elemental. w crozier dead and mcdonald gone hes the last brit who speaks inuktitut fluent enough to communicate w silna Plus hes one of the v few remaining high ranking arctic veterans
(what would change in a scenario like this if my good friend and upcoming romance novel love interest graham gore - who was an arctic veteran and even competent and charismatic - was still around? food for thought)
what would hickey do? the object of his obsession is out of the picture so he cant get revenge for getting whipped, he still wants to go to his tropical vacation and i think w crozier dead he would switch to survival mode 3000 (he is always already in survival mode to begin with, but i mean the point at which he switches from playing defense to offense) sooner. if the captains dead theyre fucked for real whats holding him back? hickey voice in fact what is holding anyone back? men, we need to confront the situation!
i really think this might be where thomas "shouldve been a news reporter" jopson would shine. that nosy bitch knows about Everything going on, and in a situation like this where every information must be handled in a v tactical way so as to Manage The Situation i think there would be a great deal of avenues of action open to someone in a position like his. especially, i think, bc to me a great deal, if not to say the entirety of jopsons optimism and endurance and focus is simply build on this vast foundation of trust he has in crozier and w crozier gone, what happens to all of that? there are a few ways this could play out imo
a) he instead reorients himself toward the next Authority Figure, which in this case would probably be Fitzjames. I do think it is unlikely, simply bc due to crozier dying during withdrawal the fences would not yet have mended entirely and jopson Will Hold A Grudge. it wont be little, for previously mentioned reasons, even though i dont think jopson would be able to realise that himself. he does not have a lot of interactions w the other lieutenants up until then (not counting serving dinner etc) and since iirc they had not been called into the Sobriety Meeting i dont quite know about how much he would trust them. so unless sth drastically changes during the walkout the options would be fitzjames or little and i personally vote no on both
b) he would retreat into himself and simply Wait. wait for what? u ask. well :) he would wait. and then, maybe one day he might even React. but for now, he would Wait, and Pay Attention
c) i realize this is quite a shrewder reading of jopson than what dave k has said of how he sees him but as i said earlier to me a lot of jopsons "goodness" hinges of crozier providing him w the trust he needs to unfold these qualities. and w that gone, i think that leaves him as someone v smart, in a position where he has access to a lot of information, and also in a state of absolutely crushed hopes and reopened trauma. and that certainly does put you in a set of mind doesnt it?? atp his trust in the remaining leadership might be v fragile and he would certainly wonder how any of this would go on. so hed either implode and fucking idk. wither. (which, for the record, i think he would Not do) Or! he would decide that alright. no one left to handle this but himself so time to take matters into his own hands! youve shot smaller hawks than this tommy its time to get out of here! which, again, is where i think a possible hickey alliance, maybe via billy, might take place. if jopson and hickey would team up for a mutiny they would definitely constantly be daydreaming of killing each other <3 not to be me but i would read the fuck out of a hickeyjopson mutiny vs a solittefitz alliance. give me intrigue! give me bastardry! give me some fucking losers dishing it out in the canadian arctic over the worlds worst buffet options!
this is not necessarily a full point on its own but more of an addendum: i genuinely think jopson has it in him to pull a dundy. aka i think he v much does strike me as someone who would stage a quiet not so much mutiny but a quiet usurpation of power through simple calculated ruthlessness. which! speaking of usurpation!
option d) jopson decides that hes the only competent bitch left and the only way to ensure everyones survival is to go full grima wormtongue and become the puppet master advisor to littles captain. little would actually let this happen and might even welcome it. we know this guy is genetically engineered to follow orders. dont say i never did anything for joplittle enjoyers!!!
crozier dies during the walkout at any point:
i dont really have anything big for this. it would be bad but depending on what has happened at that point (how scurvy ridden is fitzjames? is jopson a lieutenant yet? has hickey killed irving already?) it might not change too much tbh
if he gets shot during morfins suicide it would be disastrous i think but it might actually make the men come closer together again maybe? if little becomes captain then and there maybe the mutiny might get prevented or at least postponed bc little would let the marines get their armed patrol and thus might not be as resentful/mistrusting toward command. ofc little As A Captain trusting tozer and getting fucking bamboozled by him if the mutiny still happened would be an even worse look lmfao. that is if morfin shot him. if it was however a Marine who shot crozier…… well. i think thered be an execution first thing at daybreak! and any and all weapons would be under lock and key w extra attention to the point that i think not even armitage would hand them out. plus lbr it wouldve been tozer in this scenario w the killing shot so! armitage without tozer…. does that poor lad even know how to exist when he is not in sols orbit. how would hickey exploit this….. (also extremely evil version is jopson shooting crozier which is so evil that we do not consider it. goodbye)
if crozier dies pre tuunbaq attack id be curious if the (attempted) hanging would still happen. i personally think it would, simply bc hickey would definitely try to start some shit and fitzjames would be wary enough to order a post mortem on irving plus jopson would definitely catch that rat. maybe he would actually hang, even, but that depends on whether little as his captain or fitzjames as the overall expedition commander would give the little speech beforehand. if it's fitzy, either him or hickey in his response would run out of time before the tuunbaq shows up and hickey would escape, but if it's little theres a real chance he would shortly state some dry facts let hickey speak for two sentences of last words maximum and then get it over with. and now That would be a fascinating scenario to explore. crozier gone, hickey gone, camp in ruins, dozens of men dead, fitzscurvy left in charge. would there be a second mutiny? des voeux, perhaps? or billy himself (he was also an architect of this!!! he burned the fucking maps!!! billy was not regular rat who marrydivorcemarried the evil rat he was evil rat no2!!! simply a less flashy (fleshy….. hah) flavour!!!) just quietly absconding w a bunch of men into the fog? what would tozer do, if he had survived and hickey hadn't?
last minute death scenarios
anything w crozier dead before hickey could capture him would not change much i think. maybe hickey would deflate some upon the news but hed still capture goodsir and still die as a wannabe new god. i think the real tragedy would be if little was left as the only captain after fitzjames' death. that man was Not made to carry such a burden and dundy would smell the blood in the water and ursurp him early i think, which ironically might lead to a scenario where there could be a sliver of hope for survival for the healthier parts of the crew
if crozier died during the capture bc hartnell didnt take the bullet hickey would fucking kill whoever fired that shot (i do not remember who it was. golding? was it golding? i fucking hate that guy i can easily belive it was golding) and i think hartnell and little and whoever else was there would either escalate the situation into a shootout to avoid the mutineers taking croziers body for food (lbr hickey would love to eat that old man) and die right then right there or maybe get themselves captured bc everything is just pointless now (unlikely outcome imo the tension would be too high) OR theyd somehow get the fuck out of there, organize a party of men to take the mutineers and have a final showdown (unless dundy intervened and ursurped ofc) which means: tuunbaq survives!!! yay :D good ending for silna :) she has not lost the tuunbaq so maybe even no exile <33
if crozier just died during the final tuunbaq fight: no changes at all
which concludes my thoughts! this turned out way longer than i expected and honestly did not focus on little v much but it was super interesting to consider all these scenarios so thank u burrowingregg for giving me the idea to begin with :)
i would also be super curious to hear everyone elses thoughts on this so please do chime in!!
#sorry the formatting on this is atrocious ik but i ahve been trying to press the fucking post button three times now#and every time tumblr told me to go fuck myself so i switched devices and had to send myself the entire post via fucking Texts#bc it wouldnt even save as a draft. hellsite. also its way past midnight and im tired so pls excuse any typos rip#the terror#id genuinely be so curious abt anyones thoughts tho! if i missed or misremebred sth pls also tell me bc lbr the likelyhood is high rn#also if anyone wanted to expand upon any of this. say. in fic form or sth..... [eye emoji] pls do so.#i have half a page of notes for a 'hickey got hanged before the tuunbaq sshowed up but tozer didnt' scenario myself#but i will not be writing that anytime soon due to Real Life rip :/
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
"And there you were..."
Author's note: Hey girl hey... I'm back! Im sorry for the prolonged time between these late chapters:( Fixations are weird and frangible things. You have one for a month and then get tired of it, but come back to the same one every now and then. That's basically what writing is for me... I know it may not be fair to you readers but I am trying my best because i truly love you guys... This is not the best thing that I have written for this story, but we are finally at the end! It has been a rollercoaster for us all. Thank you for those who have stuck with me since day one and thank you for those who randomly stumble upon this shit show of a story and send me sweet messages<3 I hope this is good enough xoxo
Summary: Crossing over the rainbow bridge is not what you expected it to be, especially when you're told you cannot stay long, but everything was worth it in the end.
This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️
Warnings: profanity, potential grammatical errors, and a happily ever after!
Word Count: ≈ 2,237
Chapter 11: You're my mate
“Who are you and where am I?” you blinked rapidly at the blinding light invading your gaze.
“Welcome my child, you know where you are and you know who I am-” the voice sent a warmth through your body at the raw power it held, yet it was still tenderhearted.
You blinked a couple more times to readjust your sight at the most ethereal woman you have ever seen standing before you. This cannot be real…
“I’m dead, aren’t I?” you asked.
“Not quite, I fear I have taken you too soon,” she gave you a soft smile as the realization hit you. Only one person could take your life too soon.
“Oh my gods, you’re the mother!” You bowed to her immediately, unsure of what the proper greeting was for a celestial being. She giggled.
“No need for such formalities, stand up my child. I have something I wish to discuss.” She offered you her hand which you gladly accepted. You felt a zing rush through you at the touch. The power she held was beyond anything you felt from Rhysand and the other high lords.
“Of course,” you smiled, “What exactly would that be? Have I sinned too much to remain here?!”
She laughed yet again, “You are quite the humorous one, and no, I am not here to discuss your sins. I want to discuss the mistake I made with your mate.”
You stood there in pure shock, “Azriel?”
“Yes, I wholeheartedly apologize for fating you two together. That shadowsinger never got over his self-loathing I’m afraid.” You looked at her puzzled. “You see, when I fated the two of you, I had hoped his self-destructiveness would disappear once he met you,” she smiled at you again as you listened, “that was until Elain Acheron had stepped in and took that place before you ever could.”
“Believe me mother, I am well aware…” you sighed. “I tried so hard,” tears began to form in your eyes.
“Oh my love, I know you did, and this is all my fault. I am sorry for causing you so much suffering. It is clear to me now that I should have fated you to someone else,” she gave you her hand again, “Come walk with me.”
She led you hand in hand over to a cauldron. She waved her hand over it to reveal your friends still circled around your body, only this time a certain auburn-haired male began to awake.
“LUCIEN!” You wept at the sight of his chest rising and falling again, “He’s alive!”
The mother nodded, “I brought him here and sent him back, just like I am about to do with you.”
“I don't understand, why bring us both here in the first place if we are only going to be sent back?” You watched as your friends noticed Lucien’s movements as you still lay there cold.
“Because my child, I have been watching you for quite some time and realized that your love without a bond for another male grew stronger than any completed bond I have ever seen.”
“That’s not possible- nothing is stronger than a completed bond,” you looked at her and shook your head in disbelief.
“I never thought something like this would happen but you two have proven me wrong. You both have just done the impossible,” she smiled at you, and she took hold of both of your hands, “That male loves you more than anything.” Her thumbs caressed the small marking along your wrists, your eyes followed the movement as you chuckled.
“So, what’s going to happen to now?” you looked up at the creator of everything you knew.
“I am going to send you back,” she kissed the top of your forehead and you felt something inside you shift, “I am sorry for taking you both too soon, but it had to be done. I have now made things the way they should be,” she smiled as she gestured to the cauldron.
“What?” you looked at her in disbelief.
“Step into the cauldron, it will take you back to your loved ones.”
You looked in to see Lucien now trying to wake you as the others watched in awe of his liveliness, “Lucien did the same thing?”
“Yes,” she nodded as you began to slowly step your way into the cauldron. You were waist in before you stopped abruptly as anxiety ate at you to ask a certain question.
“I won’t have any special powers like Feyre, Nesta, and Elain right?”
“No, this is different than their rebirth. You will have no power; you will remain as you were before.”
“Good, that’s good. Powers would have been cool though,” you smiled as you submerged the rest of yourself into the sacred artifact. Just before your ears went under you could hear the mother say something to you before you left.
“Everything is alright now, I love you my child. You have made me proud.”
You smiled as the liquid surrounded you and sparkled against your skin. It almost looked like Starfall which made you smile reminding you of home. You were heading back home! You felt your body tense like it was being winnowed back to your reality. It was a weird sensation, but you could slowly feel the memory of the mother and everything she had done for you fade as you passed through a barrier.
“Y/n!” you could hear someone crying out your name. You were trying to regain your senses as firm hands caressed the hair out of your face. One of their tears fell onto your cheek. It almost felt hot. Your eyes squinted at the feeling.
“Lucien look!” Someone cried out, as Lucien’s eyes scanned over your face slightly scrunching up at the foreign feeling of a tear that was not your own on your face. He let out a small, relieved gasp.
“Y/n?” He wiped off his tear that had fallen as he saw your chest take a deep inhale, “Oh my gods!” He wept, “You’re alive… you’re alive!”
His hands caressed your own, trying to give your cold skin more warmth. Azriel letting some of his own tears fall at the sight of you breathing again, Elain was rubbing small circles on his back in comfort. Mor and Feyre’s hands covered their mouths in shock at the events unfolding before them as tears of joy left their eyes. Nesta had let out a much-needed breath she didn’t know she was holding as she smiled at the two of you breathing again. Cassian thanked the mother repeatedly as Rhysand grabbed Feyre’s hand with tear filled eyes.
You began to wiggle your toes and fingers, getting used to the feeling of yourself again as you opened your eyes to see Lucien with the biggest smile you have ever seen from him.
“Lucien?” you questioned. Your mind was foggy, unable to really remember anything except the fact the last time you saw him he was dead.
He pressed your hands to his lips, “I’m here…”
You began to cry, “You’re alive!”
He nodded his head as he pulled you into his chest, “And so are you!”
You wrapped your arms around him in an instant, “Don’t ever leave me like that again!”
“Like hell I would live in a world without you,” he smiled as he cupped your face and kissed you tenderly. It’s right then you felt something trying to ignite inside your chest, no restraints or walls were holding it back as it set your soul aflame. You pulled away from Lucien and looked at him in amazement as you sent that flame to where it was trying to pull itself to. Lucien’s eyes widened as he slowly felt his empty chest cavity burst into life filled with everything you were sending his way. Love. Passion. Trust. Protectiveness. He couldn’t but help but smile as he got to say these words again knowing he would be complete, “You’re my mate!”
You let out a laugh of relief at the words, “Mates,” as you kissed him so hard you both fell back into the earth beneath you.
“That’s impossible,” Azriel said in disbelief. Elain’s face was ghost white.
“Well brother, the mother can work in mysterious ways,” Rhysand smiled at you finally getting your happy ending.
Lucien pulled away from you breathless, “I love you.”
You gave him a toothy grin and kissed him once more, “I love you!”
The wind kissed your skin as you both got up off the ground hand in Lucien’s. The presence of the wind almost felt familiar to you. You looked up at your mate and saw he had the same expression. Both of you looked at each other before you both whispered a soft thank you into the wind to let it be carried away to wherever it was headed as your friends began to crowd you both. Feyre ran into Lucien’s outstretched arms as Mor crashed into yours.
“Oh gods I am so happy you’re alive!” Mor cried.
“I think that was enough bonding for a lifetime,” you laughed as you cried with your best friend.
“I am just glad you are okay!” she smiled as she let Feyre hug you next. She looked over to Lucien and gave you a warm smile, “I am so happy for you both, take good care of him.”
Rhysand and Cassian pulled you into a big group hug.
“What even happened? I saw you both die!” Cassian kissed your cheek fondly.
“I don't even know… I wish I could tell you both, but I'm just happy I get to keep my favorite bat boys around,” you laughed as Rhysand kissed your other cheek.
“Like I said to Az, the mother works in wonderous ways.” As they pulled you back into another huge hug.
“Stop you’re going to pop me!” you laughed as a pair of footsteps approached you. You looked up to see Azriel. He looked at you guiltily and you felt nothing towards the male. No hate, no resentment, no longing, no nothing. You took a deep breath as you said, “Bring it in Azriel, it’s alright…”
Azriel carefully joined the group hug, “I am so sorry…” you and the others just hugged each other tighter as a response. You heard a cough from outside the circle as Elain stood before you. Rhysand and Cassian gave you one last hug before they walked over to Lucien and the others. Leaving you with Azriel and Elain.
“Y/n if I had only known…” Elain’s voice trailed off. Their presence was a little much for you after knowing what they both caused, but without them you wouldn’t have your mate.
“Look, everything that happened between us is a lot to digest and it's overwhelming me right now, but I am willing to look forward and have a fresh start, just give me time.” You gave them both an awkward smile as you walked off to the others who were all showering Lucien in hugs like they had done with you earlier. The sight of it made you smile.
“Be careful with him! I just got him back,” you teased as everyone looked towards you.
“We just got you both back,” Feyre said with a soft smile, “Tonight we celebrate you both and your new bond!”
“Just don't feed him anything until we're gone,” Cassian quipped as he clapped Lucien on the shoulder. Lucien rolled his eyes at the comment as Mor whispered into your ear, “and when you do, you still owe us girls a story after all.” She winked as your face grew hot at the talk of the act of completing the bond together.
“Calm yourself darling, we have plenty of time for that later,” Lucien pulled you into his side, “Let’s celebrate with our friends yeah?”
“Fine, I guess we can let loose a little to celebrate beating death and finding our bond.” You smiled.
“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s go party! I’m ready to let loose after everything that just transpired,” Mor said as everyone left to go back inside. Lucien pulled you aside before you both walked in and pushed you against a wall as he kissed you with fiery passion.
“As soon as that little party is over, I am going to fuck you into the bed, wall, desk,” he began to kiss your neck as the fresh bond between you hummed in your chest, “Any surface that I can take you on till we’re both burning this court into ashes with our love.”
You moaned at his words, “You promise?”
“If that is what my mate wants,” as he stared into your eyes as you traced your fingers down his back.
“Only if mine is willing to live up to his words,” you smirked up at him.
“Oh y/n, you are going to regret doubting me,” he said before he gave you one last kiss on the lips before offering you his hand to lead you into the house where all your friends awaited to celebrate your miracle.
You giggled as you grabbed his hand and said, “I love you so much Lu.”
“I will never get sick of those words. I love you too,” he smiled down as your intertwined hands, “You really should get those tattooed.”
“Give me a few more like them and I will,” you teased pulling Lucien inside as he let out a small groan at the thought. Both of you eager to celebrate with your friends, and to finally be able to love each other fiercely for the rest of your lives.
If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!
Tags:
@thelov3lybookworm @justdreamstars @character---obsessed @stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbooksandshadows @sourapplex @b0xerdancer-writes @fireworksacrosshorizons @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @mis-lil-red @cleverzonkwombatsludge @emme-looou @bubybubsters @impossibelle @holywolfsstuff @acourtofbatboydreams @bloodicka @byyalady @kennedy-brooke @sassyslytherinshai @minnieoo @sh4nn @high-lady-of-books @fides25 @thisblogisaboutabook @breella @mirandasidefics @hardcoremarvelfan @thesnugglingduck @annaaaaa88
#acotar#acotar x reader#lucien vanserra#lucien x reader#cassian#nesta archeron#elain archeron#azriel#feyre acotar#mor acotar#rhysand
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
3.106 Eyes on the prize
I hated sitting there, listening to my wife cry, knowing I couldn't do anything for her. She was broken and I couldn't fix her. The weight of it all threatened to break me as well. In desperate attempts to remain strong for Sophia, I grabbed the dogs and went for the longest walk. Usually I wouldn't attempt a long walk with Kooper, but I needed it. I appreciated how steady the weather in Oasis Springs weather was. Whenever I needed to escape, I could always venture out into the dusty oven. The gentle swirls of wind and pitter patter of paws provided a soothing backdrop for my racing thoughts. How were we going to get through this? We weren't without options, but our dreams took a big hit. Our emotions suffocated us, and one day we would breathe again, but at the moment, it hurt.
The house was refreshingly quiet when we returned home, but I knew better than to think everything was magically alright. I unleashed the dogs and tiptoed to the bedroom to check on Sophia, but she was gone. It alarmed me at first, but it was a good sign. I found her outside, sitting at the table, staring at the air. I joined her but didn't know what to say or if I should say anything, but we definitely had much to discuss. Letting the silence linger for a moment felt appropriate. When comfortable, I drummed up the courage to ease us back to reality.
"So...what are you thinking about? I mean...what do you want to do?"
She glanced up at the sky as if seeking an answer from the clouds. But an answer didn't come, and her eyes came back to me.
"I don't want to give up but..."
"Yeah...I know."
"And we have to pay for the treatments individually. If they don't work and I keep getting them..."
"Good thing we have the money tree, huh?"
I winked at her, trying to add a little levity to the situation.
"That's true," she said. "IVF is even more expensive."
"Don't think about the money right now. We can figure that out later if we need to."
"What about your sister?"
"What about her?"
"Do you think she'll..."
"Alessia? No way."
"Why not? You haven't even asked her yet."
"Have you met her? She loves her body too much. She won't do it."
She sank into her chair, defeated by a non-existent foe. I felt it too, but one of us had to stay afloat and keep hope alive.
"We can think about that if it comes to it," I said. "Right now...maybe let's try the treatments for a few days. If they don't work, then we'll..."
I left my sentence dangling in the air, hoping she'd finish it. We were in this situation together, but I didn't feel right making decisions about her body, even though I was only trying to keep us focused on our dreams.
"Then we'll do in vitro," she said, finally.
"Okay then."
#ISBI challenge#sims 4 story#sims 4 gameplay#adolting#adolting gen 3#luca winston murillo#sophia aguilar#tw: infertility
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jealousy - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Sinner!Reader SMUT
Summary: Lucifer's jealousy emerges when your Ex from when you were alive enters the hotel in search of you. Lucifer makes sure to claim you as his.
Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, dom!Lucifer, cream pie, Lucifer being possessive, marking, unprotected sex, degradation (it happens like once), SMUT, MDNI
A typical day in Hell was far from calm, so whenever a peaceful moment occurred, even a small one, you made sure to savor it, appreciating it for what it was. For example, you intended to let the wonderful moment you were currently in last for as long as you possibly could. You had been watching a movie in your room in the hotel, but by now your attention had turned away from the movie in question and onto Lucifer. The king of Hell had snuggled up closer to you than he already had been, his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the show.
The simple gesture made you melt, and you couldn't resist gently turning his face to look at you. Lucifer looked at you curiously, waiting for your next move. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, enjoying the smile it brought to his face.
"Hmm, that was nice, but I think you missed, love." He leaned in, closing the gap between you two, kissing you lovingly. You moved to deepen the kiss and— a knock came at the door. You parted from the kiss and looked towards your room door as Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll make sure to give you as many kisses as you want later, alright?" You whispered to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and answering the door.
"(Y/N)!" Charlie exclaimed in excitement. "The hotel has a new guest! They said that they know you. You two must've been friends before! Come on, let's go see them!" Without warning, Charlie eagerly grabbed you by the hand, pulling you through the hallways of the hotel and towards the main lobby.
In the lobby, you saw them. The fucker you had hoped would never die purely so you would never have to see them again. Yet, here they were in all of their trashy, shit glory. "Hi." You said with a fake smile, trying to remain civil and hold back the resentment that had since been dormant.
"(Y/N)! Baby!" Your ex grinned, approaching you with wide, open arms. "I'm so glad I found you after all these years. It took some asking around, but we're together again!" They wrapped their arms around you, squeezing you tight enough that it felt like you might suffocate.
"Woah, haha! Hands off, please!" Lucifer appeared next to you, poking at your ex with his cane, annoyance seeping into his forced, polite tone. They finally released you, glaring at Lucifer as he stepped between the two of you.
"And just who the hell are you?" Your ex questioned, watching as Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "I feel like I should be asking you that question." Your boyfriend replied snidely, any attempt to be polite despite the situation now far gone.
"Alrighty!" Charlie said with a nervous laugh, wishing that she had gathered more information about her hotel's newest guest and their relationship with you before allowing them to see you. "Let's all just relax, and maybe (Y/N) can introduce the two of you to eachother."
You let out a sigh. You loved how sweet Charlie was taking in any sinner, you really did, but sometimes it did more harm than good, usually to no fault of her own. You motioned to your ex, "Lucifer, this is my ex." Then you motioned to your boyfriend, "This is Lucifer. King of Hell...And my boyfriend." The last part felt almost weird to say, the surrealness of dating the Hell's king and the man sometimes known as the devil himself finally setting in.
Your ex only laughed in response, earning an angry, growling-like noise from Lucifer. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down which only partially worked.
"There's no way this little guy is Hell's king! He's so fucking short. I really thought you had better standards in who you date, babe."
"Fuck you." You hissed, anger bubbling up inside of you as you felt yourself slipping into your more demonic form. "He's certainly better than you ever were." By now the other inhabitants of the hotel had gathered around, some more entertained than anything, while others, particularly Vaggie, were preparing for the brawl that was surely about to happen.
"Woah! Look at the time." Charlie intervened. "It's getting pretty late, why don't we all start heading to bed?" You responded only by turning around and heading towards your room, in desperate need of calming yourself down. Lucifer followed behind you, the walk to your room quiet with no words spoken.
You opened your door, nearly throwing it open in your still-present anger, before flopping down onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. You looked to the side, taking notice of the way Lucifer refused to look at you, his arms crossed.
"Honey?" No answer. "Love?" No answer, yet again. "Luci?" That did the trick. He always melted whenever you called him that.
"Your ex is fucking annoying."
You let out a small chuckle at his bluntness, a smile making its way onto your face. "They are, Luci. That's why they're my ex." You sat up, pulling him down onto the bed with you, kissing him, causing both of you to relax, some built-up tension leaving.
"You're all mine, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. "Mine to love. Mine to claim." His mouth moved to your neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, and you let out a soft moan as he began to nibble and kiss at the skin, his teeth leaving a mark you were sure he'd take pride in.
Your head fell to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you took his hat off, throwing it to the side, your fingers running through his hair as he continued to mark you.
"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only ever want me." He whispered, lips returning to yours in a fervent kiss. Your lips remained locked together, only occasionally parting for a few seconds so you could help rid each other of the clothes that separated you from what you both craved.
He moved between your legs, the tip of his hardened cock teasing at your wet entrance. Usually, you two would've done more before the main act, but you two were more than ready to indulge in the other right now.
"Don't be a tease, Lucifer." You purred, spreading your legs wider. "Can't you feel how wet I am? How ready I am for you to fuck me senseless?"
He smirked before finally slipping in, biting his lip to prevent an almost embarrassingly loud moan that threatened to surface at the way you felt wrapped around him. He has been in heaven before, and he could say with confidence that being deep inside of you felt better than anything his former home could've offered him.
He began to thrust, his pace starting slow, still teasing you. He wanted you to beg, and you already knew it.
"Faster, harder, please, Lucifer—" You pleaded, giving in to what he wanted from you. "I know you want to pound me into this bed, Lucifer—Ah! Fuck!—" His pace sped up, and the sound of hips meeting yours in rapid succession filled the room. "Fuckfuckfuck–yes!"
"You always feel so fucking good." He growled, wings slipping out as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers through the red and white feathers, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling. His wings had always been sensitive.
"Fuck me—Let them all know I'm yours!" You cried out, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock fucking you with quick, deep strokes. You gripped the sheets in your hands, back arching as he angled himself just right, hitting your sweet spot head on.
"Mine. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, and mine to fill up. All mine." His hands found yours, pinning them down against the bed as he began to fuck you even harder, his climax nearing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.
"I'm gonna cum–You're going to make me cum so hard–"
"Then fucking do it." He demanded with a growl. "Cum around my cock like the little slut you are for me." You came around him, cunt spasming as your orgasm coursed through you. Lucifer's wings fluttered as he followed you soon after, filling you up with his hot cum.
You pulled him down into a sweet kiss once your climax subsided, cupping his face in your hands. God, you loved him more than anything. The kiss ended after a good moment, leaving you both to bask in your shared, post-coital bliss.
"You lost a few feathers," You observed with a giggle, holding one up. He chuckled warmly, lying beside you. You rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. You'd have to deal with your ex in the morning, but for now, you were both satisfied with knowing that you were entirely Lucifer's, and that's how you'd always want it to be.
#hazbin hotel#mdni#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel smut#lucifer hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer magne#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin x reader#lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel x reader smut#smut#banner by cafekitsune#💫mimicwrites💫#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader smut#fem reader#fem!reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel x y/n
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)
omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!
Mourning Dove
Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end)
TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much
join my discord!
═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.
“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.
“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”
“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?��
“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”
He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.
“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”
You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.
“Okay.”
She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.
In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.
You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.
“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.
“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”
“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.
You sighed, and felt a headache already forming.
Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes.
You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.
Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.
Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.
You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.
Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.
The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.
The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.
“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.
“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”
“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.
“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.
You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…
You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.
You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.
Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.
You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.
“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”
“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”
You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.
“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.
“I know.”
Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.
You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response.
You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual.
You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.
You watched as his eyes opened again.
“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.
Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.
“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.
“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.
“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.
It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.
Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.
Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.
“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”
“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”
Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.
“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”
Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face.
“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.
The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.
Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.
Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.
He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.
“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”
You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.
Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.
You had promised him.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#angst#TW: child death#child death#ohdeerfully
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
“Seven Above.” // Highly Religious Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader
DD:DNE ;; Reader discretion is heavily advised.
WARNINGS: noncon & dubcon, forced breeding, forced beliefs, breeding kink, religious themes and psychopathic aemond, dark!aemond, misogynistic views, pressure to fit into the gender norms, forced pregnancy, multiple orgasms, brainwashing(?), mindfucking, + not proofread. PLEASE BE EXTREMELY MINDFUL OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS
Block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to refrain from seeing my dark works.
WC: 2.1k
A/N: fic contains dark content, do not proceed to read if you are easily triggered or find the topics mentioned above triggering. // dividers by @cafekitsune
Aemond was a man of the faith of the seven
He was extremely religious, his mother’s belief in the faith has also made him follow it, though he studied about dragons and old gods of Valyria, he didn't particularly follow them. His need for impressing his own mother, followed by his grandfather made him follow this faith more.
The only problem? He was way too religious and strict, but also hypocritical, he had shamed Aegon for being married to Helaena, but also desired her for himself, he would taunt his nephews for being bastards, yet also had one for himself with a common whore he could not remember the name of. He doesn't acknowledge them as sins however, saying that they are forgiven by the gods as he visits the sept daily.
Alicent did not know what to say, for when she would speak to him about what he's doing and points out his wrongdoings, he simply ignores her and tells her that her job as a woman isn't to judge, but rather understand and nurture, to which she couldn't argue against. So she remained silent.
Everything was going the same as usual, until Aemond was summoned by his grandfather, who had selected a proposal for him.
“The woman is Y/N of the L/N house, a woman loved by many, it will benefit us if we formed an alliance with her family, what do you think of it Aemond?” His grandfather questioned, to which Aemond nodded, saying it isn't too much of a bad match considering they had more to gain than lose, and so the proposal was quickly made.
Aemond only saw you on the day of the wedding, when your house arrived in the throne room, where Aegon sat in the middle, handling the matters. You had not shied away from looking in his eye, to which he was caught off guard by, his mind quickly realising how you are the feisty type.
The ceremony went well, Aemond refused the bedding ceremony and took you to your martial chambers before bedding you. He was gentle of course, he didn't do anything that was too painful.
One thing about Aemond is that, you should never get on his bad side, he is cruel just as he is lenient, you heard of what he had done to his own nephew, to riverrun, to the strong house, leaving absolutely no one alive from that bloodline, no woman or bastard was spared.
The first month flew by quickly, Aemond had gotten to know you better, and he quickly realised that you both don't share the same ideologies on most of the stuff, you even dared to speak back to him, to which he excused you of. Arguments with him on small things have started to happen, his opinion contradicting yours, and his refusal to understand your point of view made you extremely unaccepted, yet you still tried to convey your feelings to him, hoping somewhere deep down in your heart that he'd understand. After all, you had grown to love him a little. He was far better than any husband, most of them didn't even let their wife speak to them.
That was until the topic of children had come when you were dining together.
“Wife, Have you gotten your moon's blood yet?” He asked and you nodded, “Yes, husband, it passed a few days ago and it is regular.” you tell him confused as to why he is asking this, “Are you perhaps barren?” He asks, which makes you feel shocked, and quite offended, “No! Why would you ask such a thing like that?” You ask, eyes slightly wide with shock. “Then why aren't you with child yet?” He questions as if you had any control over anything that happens after intercouse.
“It is only the second month, and besides….” You bite your lip and he raises an eyebrow, “What is it?” You sigh heavily, “I do not know how to ask of you this.” You tell him honestly, “What is it that you need wife? Dresses? Jewellery, do not be shy to ask, I am your husband after all. It is my duty to provide.” He rests his hand on yours, squeezing it in a reassuring way.
“I–” you take a deep breath, “I do not want children, at least, not yet.” you spit out.
It's almost as if everything had frozen in place, the air becomes silent with only the crackling sounds of the fireplace being heard. The tension becomes more imminent in the air as the Aemond continues to remain silent and not do anything, except directly stare at you.
His grip on your hand suddenly tightens, making you wince and you look at him pleadingly, “Have you gone mad?” He stands up, forcing you to stand up as well and you grip his arm tightly, not wanting to fall before balancing yourself, “Please- I am not yet ready, let me prepare myself mentally first.” You beg him and his other hand grabs you by your throat and pulls you closer to him, his grip on your throat begins to tighten, causing you to lose bloodflow to your head.
“I have done nothing except do my duty, be the ideal husband, provide for you, all while allowing you to express yourself yet it seems I was too lenient on you.” He growls, “Because here you are, asking me, to allow you to not have children. It is your sole duty as a wife and a woman, and you could not even provide such a thing?” He let goes of your throat, making you engulf a huge amount of air as you tried to calm down.
“Every woman is the image of the mother, she should have a natural nurturing personality towards anyone, especially to their own children, yet here you are refusing to be a mother to your own child or rather having one of yours, it is disgusting.” He says meanly and you glare at him, “I never said that I never wanted to be a mother, I asked you to give me time to which you are– hmmgh!” You are dragged by Aemond to the bed and thrown on it, you quickly lean on your elbows, fear gnawing in your stomach as you look at Aemond who seemed so furious at you, your heartbeat accelerated as he just stared down at you, like a predator staring at its prey.
“Your sin is forgiven, wife, I remembered how some women think they do not want children until they do, and then they become the best mothers and perfect wives known to man, maybe you are of that same category.” He keeps on talking, and you stare at him, confused and in fear, what in the seven hell was he talking about?
“It is no surprise if that is the case, luckily, there is a cure for that, and that is to get you pregnant, and I shall do just that, simultaneously fulfilling the duties as your husband.” He leans down and caresses your cheek. Your eyes widen when you catch his expression in the illuminating moonlight. He was smiling, yet the smile did not reach his eyes, Your stomach began to churn as goosebumps arose on your skin, he doesn't seem like the man you married anymore.
Before you could make an escape, Aemond pounces you and pushes you down onto the bed, you thrash in his hold trying to push him off but he holds your hands together and pins them up before grabbing your cheeks harshly and spitting on your face, “Behave, I'm treating you.” You began to tremble knowing he had gone completely mad.
“Let go of me! Aemond!” You scream and he pushes his hand over your mouth, “Shut the fuck up.” He tells you before grabbing your dress and tearing it off your body, the bodice coming along with it, causing your tits to spill out. He gropes and squeezes them, “I wonder how nice they'd look when they swell with milk hm?” He coos, before descending his lips onto your nipple, you use your now free hands to push him away but he doesn't budge, you try to pull him by his hair but he bites harshly onto your nipple causing you to let go of his hair in pain, he pulls away and looks at you angrily.
“Behave.” He says sternly and you flinch, never having heard Aemond use that specific tone before, it was extremely scary. “Aemond, please.” You plead him but he doesn't care, simply ripping off the remains and pushing you up the bed and prying your legs open. “You'd look so beautiful, all round with my child in your belly, I pray to the mother to bless us with a child.” He undos his breeches and your eyes widen in horror, knowing what is about to come.
You watched in silence as he lined himself against your entrance, prodding the tip at the very beginning of your hole and began to push inside, you shut your eyes tightly and clenched the sheets below you, a pained cry leaving your mouth at the stretch of your cunt by his cock, unprepared.
He soon fully sheathed himself inside you, and wastes no time before beginning to thrust, whines and gasps leave your mouth at his actions, you grip onto his shoulders as he jerks you up and down, you felt ashamed when it started to begin to feel good, your body in dilemma where you push him or pull him closer.
However that sense of choice is taken away from you when he grabs your hands and pins them above you, all while pistoning his hips into yours, “Seven above, I pray that the mother blesses my dear wife with a child in her womb so she may be cured of her sinfulness, I pray that the maiden guides her into realising how she should truly perform her duty as a woman, and may the crone remove useless thoughts and guide her to the correct path.” He prays closing his eyes and your eyes widen in pure shock, shocked by the fact on how he can pray in a situation like this?
His thrusts feel so sinful, and you're convinced you've lost your mind because of the fact that you are getting pleasure from this, his lips find yours in a passionate kiss as he ends the prayer, kissing your forehead afterwards and pulls back, “You'll make a good mother, I'm sure of it.” He coos in your ear before pressing a kiss to it as well.
You soon began to recognize the familiar feeling of a rope tightening in your abdomen, the telltale sign that your peak was nearing, Aemond's hand groped your tits, pinching your nipples and rubbing his thumb over them, providing you with additional pleasure, and before you know it, you are toppling over the edge as your peak hits you, arching your back and moaning out his name loudly.
He too finishes inside you, filling your hole with his seed, before pulling out, his face hovers over your stomach and you watch as he presses a kiss on the location of where your womb would be located, “May the mother bless us.” He mutters.
You thought that would be the end, yet you were wrong, you gasp when you feel his finger scooping up his seed which leaked out and push it back into you, essentially beginning to finger you, he takes you by surprise again when you feel his warm tongue on your clit, causing your hands to fly out and grip his hair as you breathed heavily.
His tongue and finger worked simultaneously, introducing you to a sensation of a new type of overstimulation, making you peak once again.
Time blurred together and yet Aemond did not stop, you've lost count of how many times he made you peak and how many times he finished inside you, but at the end of it, you surely felt full and fucked out, your mind filled with nothing but the thought of having his children, which he kept muttering over and over again, causing you to pick up on it.
“You'll be a great mother.” He pulls you into his arms as scoot closer, burying your face in his chest, “Yes, Husband, I'll give you as many children you want.” You mutter before finally drifting off to sleep.
Aemond smirks, knowing that he has now achieved his goal, now he can slowly start shifting you into the type of wife he wanted in the first place.
It was no surprise when you found out that you were pregnant with a child, only for you to give birth to triplets.
“A blessing from the mother.” Alicent beamed, yet that sentence only made you flinch.
— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
#MAE:DARK!CONTENT#tw: noncon#tw: dubcon#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#aemond x reader smut#aemond targaryen x reader smut#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#tw: dark content#dark!aemond x reader#dark!aemond smut#dark!aemond targaryen x reader#dark!aemond targaryen#dark!hotd#tw: religous themes#tw: forced pregnancy#tw: forced breeding
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Astarion & Scratch: Compromising for Tav Affection
This idea is entirely from @nairil-daeris and it's so cute!
~
Despite what some may have believed, Astarion wasn't that against associating with animals. He was actually a fan of a few of them, cats mainly considering their penance for cleanliness and independence. Not to mention they were admittedly adorable. And stood as the one type of beast that Astarion never feasted upon.
So no, he didn't hate animals in principle. He only hated a select few, with reason. Like the type that could rip him apart with their claws and fangs. Or the ones that thought that rolling around in their own filth was a worthwhile pastime. All and all, creatures that Astarion didn't have to deal with on the regular. Or at least not until now.
But here he was, stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere, with his ragtag group of merry weirdos. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his own acceptance into your little group. He did, immensely. By the look of things out here in this hellscape, he probably would have been murdered ten times over if he had remained alone. Or gods forbid, become a goblin's chew toy.
So while he had no intentions of leaving, he was still frustrated. Especially with the pretty little druid that quickly became their de facto leader. Astarion had been vaguely aware that druids had an intense love for nature and all of its creatures. But that hadn't prepared him for how unreasonable that love could be. It felt as though you would take literally every opportunity you had to speak to any lowly pest on the side of the road.
Not to mention your insistence on taking care of a damned owlbear cub, which was an objectively stupid thing to do. Something that he should have fought you on harder but... he wasn't made of stone. The thing was objectively adorable. Even if it was almost certainly destined to grow up and try to kill you all, Astarion kept his mouth mostly shut.
But then came the dog. That god-damned dog. How a singular mutt could make his life so damn difficult, Astarion wasn't sure. But he did know that he was trying to enact a well-thought out plan. Seduce you, foster a protective affection that was strong enough for you to always want him alive, perhaps use you to defeat Cazador if the parasites proved strong enough, and then effectively abandon you for a new life of freedom.
It was all very simple, and he had gotten a great head start. You had spent the last few weeks flirting with each other, always staying close. You gravitated towards each other, a fact that felt more natural than Astarion would have liked. But... he had found himself enjoying his time with you, genuinely. Not that it mattered, but it was definitely a plus for his plan. Being with you was far from unbearable. You were attractive, sweet, a little angel just begging to be corrupted. A job that Astarion was growing excited to start.
He had been so, so close to fully propositioning you, completely confident that you would agree. And then Scratch happened. He hadn't thought much of it when you came across the little mutt. Maybe it would stay with the corpse of its owner or it would be another hanger-on like the owl bear. He hadn't had a horse in the race either way.
But then he did show up to the camp, looking so sad and dejected that even Astarion couldn't be bothered that his arrival completely interrupted his first attempt at asking you to bed. He had watched you pet and whisper to him for the rest of the night, providing a comfort that only a druid could.
Which was fine. Or at least it had been for that one night. That one night that kept repeating. Because suddenly, that damned dog was everywhere. The quiet nights the two of you had together by the fire, talking about anything and everything with your thighs pressed together now included Scratch squeezing himself into the middle.
The orchestrated moves he would do to make you blush, like removing a non-existent speck from your cheek with his thumb or leaning in close to remove a leaf from your hair, were getting harder and harder to pull off. The damned mongrel was always there, and any attempts Astarion took to get close to you Scratch used as an invitation to jump all over him. If he had it to wash his face of dog slobber one more time from the crime of trying to hold your hand, he was going to go ballistic.
And there was zero reprieve. The thing went with you everywhere, even in the most perilous of situations. Worst of all, it actually proved to be useful. Astarion had no idea where the thing was trained, but it was incredibly smart. Smart enough to serve as a perfect distraction when needed, while being clever and fast enough to never get himself killed. He could even function as a spy, considering how you could make sense of all of his whining and barking. And worst of all, the little beast was amazing at thievery, with nothing more than his mouth. No one suspected the adorable dog to be the one stealing your coin purse right off of your belt. He was completely inconspicuous, perhaps even more so than Astarion. A fact that... was not sitting well.
How on earth was he being outclassed by a fucking dog? One that he had no valid arguments to leave behind at camp.
And to top it all off, you even slept with it. You slept with both animals, usually huddled up in a pile beneath the stars. How you managed to not stink of dog breath and owlbear saliva in the morning, Astarion would never know.
How was he supposed to make you fall for him like this? In the past two weeks since you'd attached yourself completely to the thing, doting on him constantly. He had only managed to sleep with you once. The night of the celebration over the goblin slaughter, and what a lovely night it had been. But that was only because Scratch and the cub had been sufficiently distracted by all of the enamored tiefling children. The next night it was back to the same.
And Astarion was not willing to let the night you had together go as a one night stand. Maybe it wasn't necessary. It had become clear that you cared for him, you cared for all of them. Enough to put yourself in danger for every party member's protection. A strong friendship would probably do him just as good as a romance. But... that didn't feel like enough. He didn't want it to be enough. For reasons that he was not going to start examining now.
No, for now he was just focused on getting past your slobbery bodyguard. But he knew better than to bring it up to you directly. You were far too infatuated with the pup to see his side of things.
Gale had made a singular comment on a slight frustration over having to wait around for Scratch to sniff nearly everything he came into contact with, and that had ended in you giving him a half-hour lecture on the importance of understanding one's surroundings. Shadowheart had mentioned, once, just once, that perhaps it was time to start looking for a more appropriate family for the dog, and that had led to you giving her the cold shoulder for days.
No, if he was going to get more time alone with you Astarion would have to try other means. Which had led him here, swinging back a Potion of Animal Speaking with a grimace. It tasted oddly grassy, like he had just swallowed blended up lawn shavings. But he didn't have time to grouse over the taste, not when you were thoroughly distracted with talking about druid mythology with Halsin, Scratch left conveniently alone to dig holes in the back of camp.
And that was where Astarion was going. Because if he couldn't reason with you, perhaps he could reason with the mutt itself.
Part of him could not quite believe that he had to resort to speaking with a dog to further this relationship, but here he was.
Astarion stopped in front of him, swallowing back a grimace at how the thing was digging dirt directly on his shoes. Instead, he smiled down at it, his voice only slightly strained when he asked, "Can you understand me?"
Scratch stopped his digging, opting to sit and stare up at him, an oddly humanoid voice answering, "Yes."
Huh, so that's how this spell worked. It was a little disconcerting to hear a human voice from a dog's mouth, but he would make do. Astarion cautiously sat next to him, perching on a nearby log as he tried to keep a pleasant smile on his face, "Good. How are you?"
Scratch stared at him, his head cocked, "The dirt tastes good here. I like that."
That was... Astarion didn't know. It was his own fault for trying to make small talk with an animal. He cut straight to the point, "That's great to hear. Now, would you mind doing me a favor tonight?"
Astarion had never had a dog narrow its eyes at him before, but that's exactly what Scratch did, "What is it?"
"Nothing serious," Astarion tried to reassure, "I was just hoping that perhaps you and the cub could sneak off for a night so Tav and I could spend some time together-"
"No," Scratch interrupted circling the ground three times before laying down, his eyes still on Astarion.
"Excuse me?" Astarion shot back, his true annoyance shining straight through his voice, "It's not exactly much to ask for! It's one night-"
"I don't trust you around them," The dog said simply, "I think you're going to hurt them."
Well that was just offensive. Ever since this little brat's arrival Astarion had barely had a chance to drink from you. And the times he did he was perfectly in control. Not including the first time of course.
"I'll have you know that not every vampire is some hellish demon with no self-control," Astarion bit out, only the slightest bit amused at himself for being reduced to defending his own disgusting kind, "And why pray tell, would I hurt one of the only reasons I'm still alive."
Scratch shook his head, one eye closed like this conversation was boring him, "Not that kind of hurt. The inside kind, that makes people cry. I don't want them to cry."
That was-Astarion didn't-how in the hells could a dog see through him that easily?
"I have no intention of hurting them," Astarion lied. Or at least he thought it was a lie. It felt... uncomfortably true when spoken allowed, "I just want to have a little fun, that's all. Don't you think they've earned that?"
"Not with you. You don't like them enough," Scratch sighed, "I like Gale more. Or Wyll. Karlach too. They can have fun with them instead."
That was it. Astarion was going to wring this little shit's neck. But before he could give into his more violent impulses, he could hear your voice, calling out to the current root of all of his problems.
Scratch bounded up, his tail already wagging as he started to trot over. But before he fully did he turned around, giving Astarion a once over, "If you can prove you like them, then I'll consider it."
And just like that he was off, running to your side while leaving a stunned Astarion in his wake. Did... did he just get verbally annihilated by a damn dog? How was he supposed to go on after this? Not to mention he was actually thinking about what the creature said. It sounded like a challenge, one that Astarion was suddenly pissed enough to take up.
If the little shithead wanted sincerity, then he would get it. And that's how Astarion found himself willingly opening up more. Even if it had to be in front of the damn dog. He told you more about Cazador, the horrors and tribulations he had endured through centuries. He told you of his regrets, the things he missed the most about being a mortal. He even told you the truth about that first night that you let him drink from your neck. That... that you were the first. How good it had felt to have what he had been denied for so long. And he was rewarded with his honesty. He got to learn more and more about you in turn. Your family, your home, where you incessant love for nature derived from. He was starting to slowly become a Tav-expert, suddenly hungry for every bit of information that he could procure.
They were long conversations, long enough to last well into the night. And for Astarion to be exhausted enough to just... fall asleep in the first available location. Which just so happened to always be in the pile of creatures you liked to sleep with. Though, Astarion had to admit after experiencing it himself, it was oddly pleasant to be surrounded by the warm, furry little headaches.
As for the two of you, things were slowly progressing in regards to his plan. A plan that he continually kept conveniently forgetting about. You were together now at the least, even if Scratch hardly ever let you have a night alone. But you cuddled and kissed, called each other pet names and the like. And... it was nice. Perhaps even too nice. Because Astarion was starting to... feel things that he'd prefer to not.
He was getting too attached, too close. The idea of sex didn't even seem to matter anymore, let alone the idiocy of trying to convince a dog to help him in that department. He was knowing too much of you, and the fact that he seemed to adore everything he saw only made it worse. And then the two of you managed to kill that demon, getting more and more information about Cazador. You risked so much for him, and were willing to risk so much more. He couldn't take it anymore.
He had told you the next night, everything. His plan, his past, how easy it was to revert back into new tricks. But he didn't want that with you. Maybe he never did. He wanted something real, and by the gods above you wanted the same thing. He had half expected you to dump him completely after that little speech. But... you didn't. Instead you hugged him, comforted him for trying and failing to betray your trust. It was a kindness he didn't deserve, but one that he would gladly accept.
Everything felt easier after that. Yes there were still countless horrors hanging over your heads but... he had you. And with you he was starting to think he could get through anything.
Even Halsin's insistent flirting. He was watching you both now as you helped him nurse a dying sapling to health, his eyes tracking Halsin's every move as he pretended to read. While he trusted you more than anything, fully aware that you would never stray, it didn't stop the paranoia. Just one other aspect of being in a real relationship that he hadn't seen coming. Turns out, it involved being terrified of losing it all. Especially to handsome, bulky elf druids.
But before he could fret over it any longer, he felt a tugging on his pant leg. He glanced down, his brow furrowing when he saw Scratch there, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling out.
"What the hell do you want?" Astarion asked, his words completely unmatching his actions as he scratched him behind the ears. Don't get him wrong, he still at least semi-loathed the creature but... he's also not quite sure he would have gotten to this point without his intervention. So a reluctant appreciation for his existence it was.
Scratch continued to paw at his leg, a low whine in his throat as he cocked his head to the right. Astarion followed the motion, only getting more confused when he realized he was trying to point to another potion.
Astarion sighed as he picked it up, “What? You want me to understand a new dressing down speech?”
Scratch continued to wag his tail, letting out a happy bark as a confirmation. As much as Astarion would prefer to not spend an evening getting lectured by a dog, he was more than a little curious to see what he had to say.
He swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste as he wiped his mouth, “Okay, out with it. What do you want?”
"I like you now," Scratch said excitedly, prancing back and forth in front of him, "And they like you too. Do you like them?"
In moments like this, Astarion really did wish he had the heart of stone that he pretended to carry. Because the unexpected approval from a random pup was suddenly making him feel almost teary eyed. Or it was the bitter taste of the potion, but either way the innocent words were making his heart ache pleasantly.
Astarion swallowed, smiling down at him, “I like them very much. More than anyone before. And I’m starting to think you might not be so bad either.”
Scratch sat in front of him, resting his head in his lap as his tail wagged, a goofy smile on his adorable face, “It’s because I’m a good boy. They tell me so all the time. Are we friends now? We are right?”
“Yeah,” Astarion smiled as he ran a hand through his white coat, his eyes drifting over to you. You were watching them, grinning ear to ear with a hand over your heart, nearly moments away from swooning. He looked back down at the dog, his smile only widening, “We’re going to be great friends.”
#astarion#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#astarion x tav#scratch#i made him love the dog#how could i not#how can you not#some bitches are just too intense about their animals#it's me#im bitches#i can't believe i made him talk to the dog#goofy#the best boy#you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Fics that you should read before Arthur comes back: clown edition
Now I know we might all be clowns, and that they're probably playing with us as usual, but honest to God I don't care. I am going to get my hopes up because I have been doing exactly that for the past lord knows how long. So better stay consistent, ok? Better remain true to the cause.
Now here are some post-canon fics that the writers should put into consideration if they know what's good for them.
1. These Ghosts Might Be Mine by @peaceheather. 68K, G.
The only thing I wrote in my bookmarks over this was that it's "the ending we deserved". Pretty sure that sums up exactly what I want to say. It's not just your ordinary time travel fix-it fic, but one that is done with such brilliance that it leaves you marvelling in awe at times. You must do yourself a favour and read for this author if you actually want to get a good understanding of the characters past canon.
2. Seo Gaestlufe/The Soul's Love series by flowerofnettles. 180K, T/E.
I know how hesitant some are when it comes to series, but listen. This one is simply not long enough from how GOOD it is! I rarely read wip fics, (it's now complete) but I genuinely loved living a journey with the author while it was being written, and I felt the amount of love and passion the author spent on it. What a creation, honestly. It's one of the very best out there.
3. I will turn your fear into a handful of dust by @regulusrules. 1K, G.
I am biased, ok? I want my own happy ending for them. I want to see them grow old and weary together. I want them alive. And if what it takes is a 1k drabble of them lying together by the sea, then I'll take it. I'll take it every single time you guys.
4. Albion's last bulwark by Saturne. 92K, E.
You know when there's a halo around a fic that you intensely remember a scene from but never the whole? And the scene alone is more than enough to remind you how good of a fic it is? Yeah. Yeah it's definitely the case here. I vividly feel its effect still. Absolutely planning on rereading soon because of how brilliant it was.
5. And like the cycle of the year, we begin again by @katherynefromphilly. 207K, M.
And lastly, the fandom requirement. The one that we will throw fists for if we don't see a scene or two from. As much as I am always more into canon deviations than accepting the idea of immortality and Arthur rising after millennia, this fic was definitely a pro in trying to make me less in denial. It certainly set the expectations high for any adaptation they might make now, and for good reason.
ARTHUR WILL RISE AGAIN.
#merlin#fic recs#bbc merlin#he will rise.#he better rise istg we need him#merthur#king arthur#arthur pendragon#ao3#fic rec list#LJ recs#regulusrules recs
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
somewhere to run | 10. austin
Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex
WC: 6.6K
A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)
Series Masterlist
One Month Later
Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.
The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.
The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.
The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.
The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.
She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.
"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.
"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."
"Oh?"
"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"
"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.
"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."
"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.
"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"
"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."
"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.
"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."
You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.
For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.
"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."
"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.
"Alone?"
You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.
"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.
"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."
"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."
"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.
"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.
This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.
"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.
"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.
"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.
"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.
"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."
"Right," you said, biting your nail.
"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."
"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.
"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."
"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.
"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."
"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"
"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.
"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."
You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.
Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.
"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.
The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.
"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.
"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.
"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"
"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.
"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.
Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.
You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.
"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.
"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.
"You from 'round here?"
"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.
"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.
"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.
"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.
"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.
"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.
"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.
"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.
"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.
"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.
"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.
"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.
Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.
"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.
"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.
"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.
Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.
After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.
"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?
"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.
"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.
"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.
"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.
"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.
Okay, so probably not an ex.
"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."
"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"
"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.
"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.
"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.
You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.
By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.
"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.
"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.
"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.
"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."
"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.
"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.
"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."
"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.
"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.
"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.
"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"
"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"
"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.
"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."
You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.
"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"
"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.
"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.
"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."
"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.
You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.
As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.
"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.
"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.
"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.
"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.
"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"
You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.
"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.
As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.
Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.
You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.
"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.
"Can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm drivin'."
"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.
"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.
Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.
"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.
He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.
Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.
Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.
"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."
"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."
He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.
"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.
You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.
He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.
"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.
"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.
"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.
"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.
You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.
"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.
"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.
"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.
"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.
"I know."
You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.
"Thank you, Joel."
"You're welcome, baby."
As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.
You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.
"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.
"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."
"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.
"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.
"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"
"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.
"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.
"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.
"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"
"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"
"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."
"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.
"Happy?"
"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.
Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.
The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.
"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."
Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady
Please follow @punkshort-notifs for fic updates
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller series#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#sheriff!joel#waitress reader#STR fic
594 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unrequited Love
When he develops feelings for you, but your heart belongs to another with no hope of ever loving him back.
I'm not 100% happy with this, but it has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, so I want to finally post it. Forgive me if these are all repetitive.
WARNING: This is pure angst. No happy endings here.
Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, Alhaitham, Thoma, Zhongli, and Kaveh
🦚 Kaeya:
Kaeya has liked you ever since you were both children. Back when he and Diluc pretended to be knights of Favonius that heroically saved you and Jean from Treasure Hoarders, Kaeya had always wanted to play your knight in shining armor. When you got injured while playing and started crying, Kaeya was always the first one to comfort you and help patch up your scrapes and bruises. His little crush on you prompted him to look out for you and protect you from harm to the best of his ability.
As the years passed, that crush developed into full-fledged love. After Kaeya’s falling out with Diluc, you were the only person remaining whom he considered a close friend and confidant. Despite how much he tried to distance himself from you, you wouldn’t have any of it, and persistently wormed your way into his life. You worked hard to keep your friendship alive by giving Kaeya the companionship he craved, and served as a shoulder for him to lean on during his lowest moments. When faced with your sincerity, acceptance, and kindness, how could Kaeya not fall even deeper in love with you?
He lived life by distancing himself from others. He didn’t want to be abandoned and hurt again the same way when his father left him all alone in Mondstadt as a child all those years ago. Kaeya didn’t want to grow attached to people and then suffer when those bonds inevitably broke, just like they did when Diluc shunned him once he revealed the truth about his origins. Kaeya knew better than that, yet your presence made him harbor hope that perhaps you were different.
You’ve known each other since childhood, so Kaeya naturally trusted you more than most. You had a deep bond of understanding and acceptance that made Kaeya hope that maybe he could find unconditional love with you. To have you by his side, being his sole light in this dark world, is all he ever wanted. To have just one person he can let down his walls around and bare his broken self to. These rosy fantasies floated in his mind whenever you were together, warming and soothing his scarred heart.
He should have known better, but he paid the price for his foolish hopes.
When you told Kaeya that you and Diluc got together, it felt as if a bucket of cold water was dumped on him. The sweet, golden fantasies were shattered, replaced with the harsh reality that you didn’t feel the same way about him.
Truly, he should have expected this outcome.
As children, Kaeya had wanted to be your knight in their games of pretend, but it was always Diluc who beat him to the punch. His brother was always the one to save you from the imaginary bad guys and be your hero, while Kaeya faded into the background and was forced to watch as you kissed Diluc’s cheek in thanks.
Kaeya was the first to comfort you when you got injured, but it was always Diluc who ultimately cheered you up and restored your smile. When his relationship with his brother became strained, most of your attention was focused on Diluc who was mourning the loss of his father, not on Kaeya who had also lost Krepus.
To you, Kaeya always came second, and this time was no exception.
Though the news shattered his heart, Kaeya expertly masked his pain with a smile. If you wanted to be just friends, then so be it. He would accept anything you gave him because he craved any scrap of your affection that badly. Your presence comforted him in a way nothing else did, not even his favorite Death After Noon which he resorted to when he wanted to numb the sorrow and forget the painful memories, if only for a few hours. He didn’t want to lose the care and gentleness you showed him, even if it meant suffering through the heartache of knowing that your acts of kindness towards him weren’t out of romantic love. Kaeya could tolerate it, he was sure. He would move on and learn to be happy for you and his brother.
Even if his conversations with Diluc became more awkward because as much as he tried to hide his heartbreak, Diluc knew Kaeya was suffering deep down, he would still smile and try to be happy.
Even if he felt bile rise in his throat when he watched you and Diluc share a kiss and profess your love, Kaeya would smile because you must never learn of his secret romantic feelings for you. His unwanted feelings.
Even if he silently cried alone at home after attending your wedding, grasping at his chest where his aching heart was and downing glass after glass of liquor, Kaeya will plaster on that same smile.
Even if his unrequited love for you never waned no matter how many years passed, Kaeya will continue to wear a smile and act happy for you despite his heart still longing for your love.
Maybe he can’t ever be genuinely happy for you and his brother, but he can at least pretend to be.
👹 Xiao:
Xiao knew that befriending a human like you would only lead to disaster. No matter how many times he warned you to stay away from him because his karma would hurt you, you didn’t listen and continued to visit the lonely adeptus.
Xiao should have put an end to your visits by disappearing and relocating somewhere you wouldn’t be able to find him, but he didn’t. Something in him wanted to stay with you despite his better judgment. The way you brought him new trinkets and foods to try was endearing, albeit a waste of your time since Xiao seldom liked anything you brought.
He wasn’t sure why you were so adamant about befriending him, and when asked, you simply said that he seemed lonely and in need of a friend. Xiao found your reasoning naïve and even foolish since you were putting yourself in danger over an altruistic impulse, but no matter how much he pushed you away, you didn’t give up on him. You were persistent in your attempts to befriend the lonely adeptus, easily seeing through him. He only pushed you away because he was scared, not because he hated you.
Xiao wasn’t sure when exactly it happened, but one day he caught himself looking forward to your visits. He anticipated your arrival, patiently waiting for the moment he when would hear the familiar sound of your footsteps that made his heart race. His breath hitched and cheeks flushed when you smiled at him or playfully teased him. Anything you did sent his heart aflutter. Xiao was utterly smitten with you, yet he didn’t know what to do about these feelings. For now, he was content to simply let them be and enjoy these peaceful and happy days with you. He would explore these warm and airy feelings at his own pace and see where they lead.
However, these delicate emotions quickly turned as heavy as a boulder when you announced that you found a lover.
Xiao was surprised by the news since he didn’t think you had someone else you were as close to as him, if not more so. In hindsight, he should have expected it. You were a warm and friendly person, so it was only natural that you had other people you were close to in your life. This was how things should be. An adeptus like him did not belong by your side.
Though he was aware that it was for the best for you to find love and settle down with a fellow human, something inside Xiao’s chest ached at the thought. He was disappointed that he was not as special to you as he perceived, but he tried his best to ignore the pain and disappointment by burying them deep inside his heart. He tried to maintain the same demeanor he always did around you, but even you could tell that he seemed bothered by something. The way he became more reserved and aloof around you tipped you off that something weighed on his mind.
When you pressed him about it, he reluctantly confessed that he thought you would stop seeing him as much due to your new love. Despite your reassurances that you still wanted him around, as time progressed, you visited Xiao less and less often. You still brought him gifts and foods to try, but this time supplemented by comments about how your boyfriend Gaming gave them to you to try and give to your friends. Most of your conversations were no longer about your life anymore, instead now revolving around Gaming.
Your less frequent visits worried Xiao, so he sometimes stopped by Liyue Harbor to check in on you to see if you were alright. That was how Xiao found himself observing the progression of your relationship with Gaming.
As he watched you stroll around the harbor with the cheerful boy, Xiao found himself yearning to be the one you looped your arms around.
To be the one to make you smile and laugh.
To be the one to hold your hand and kiss you sweetly on the lips.
He wanted to be in Gaming’s shoes and discover what it’s like to be loved by you. However, each and every time, he shoved those thoughts and desires into the farthest recess of his mind, locking them away. He will not interfere, it is not his place. It’s better for everyone if you don’t love him. You would only get hurt being around him if you do. As a human, you would inevitably get hurt by his karma, and Xiao would never forgive himself if that happened.
If one day you drifted apart because you no longer had time for him, Xiao would accept it. It will hurt, but he will accept it.
It’s better this way, he tells himself. It’s better for you to love a fellow human, especially one that treats you right and makes you happy the way Gaming does. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t the one to give you happiness—all that ultimately mattered was that you were happy, even if not with him. Not that he truly believed he could make you happy…
He’s too dangerous to be worthy of your love, so it’s better this way…
It’s better this way.
🎧 Alhaitham:
When Alhaitham invited you over to his house, he never imagined that he was setting himself up for utter heartache. The number of times he invited a person over can be counted on one hand, yet you were one of the chosen few who piqued his interest enough to invite you to his private space. You were not a genius like him, but that did not matter. You understood his worldview and didn’t criticize him for his introverted personality, which he appreciated. Plus, you weren’t afraid to stand up to him if you thought he was being too cold or antisocial, and actively challenged him to step out of his comfort zone every now and then.
Having invited you to his house, you inevitably met his mess of a roommate. When you and Kaveh instantly hit it off, Alhaitham thought nothing of it at the time. The two of you got along, and Kaveh nagged at him less which was good enough for him.
However, with Kaveh being introduced into your life, your unusual friendship with Alhaitham started to change. Whenever you expressed a desire to come over or hang out with Alhaitham, you would always ask if Kaveh could join. Every time you met up with Alhaitham to share literature or get a cup of coffee, your topic of conversation would deviate to Kaveh.
The Scribe was no fool, and he could instantly tell that you developed feelings for his roommate. Something weighed heavy in his chest at that realization, but he chose not to ponder on that feeling too much, and simply brushed it aside. Alhaitham believed in letting people have free will over the development of their lives, so he didn’t stop you from seeking out the company of the architect, even when it resulted in you canceling plans with him.
Kaveh expressed similar behavior to you, constantly asking and talking about you like a schoolboy with a crush. It didn’t take much for the Scribe to figure out that the architect returned your romantic feelings. At the back of his mind, Alhaitham knew what this could result in, but even if something in him disliked the idea, he let things play their natural course. He figured you would know better than to go for Kaveh, a person plagued with deep-rooted issues that not just anyone could deal with.
It was only when he came home one day to find you cuddling up to and kissing Kaveh did that heavy feeling return with a vengeance. The sight of your happy smiles, the sound of your laughter, and the knowledge that Kaveh made you happier than you could ever be with him, weighed heavy on his chest like a boulder. It was difficult to breathe.
However, Alhaitham remained the picture of indifference and carried on to his room. You and Kaveh only spared him with a brief greeting before returning to your little romantic bubble, none the wiser about how the Scribe felt. Alhaitham himself didn’t know what he was feeling, and it wasn’t until much later when he was struggling to focus on reading his book did it finally hit him that he was heartbroken. His chest felt heavy with sadness and disappointment because he loved you, yet you did not want his love.
The realization came far too late, and Alhaitham was left with no choice but to accept that you would not be his. Maybe if he realized his feelings sooner the outcome would have been different? Maybe if he never invited you over, you wouldn’t have fallen for Kaveh? These questions, among various others, plagued him like a bad aftertaste in his mouth.
It was too late to change anything. You made your choice, and Alhaitham will respect it.
He hid his heartache behind an aloof demeanor and curt responses, going about his days as usual. It would be best if both you and Kaveh never found out about his unrequited love to avoid unnecessary drama and complications. Even if some days it was difficult to push down the heavy feelings pressing on his chest, Alhaitham hid them well.
The only times his carefully crafted facade cracks is when you hang out with just him, lost in your own thoughts or distracted by an activity, unaware that Alhaitham is looking at you. If anyone took the time to study his gaze, they would see that despite his stoic expression, Alhaithm’s eyes reflected pure yearning and sadness. As soon as you looked at him, though, he would quickly look away to avoid you finding out the truth.
He will respect your decision, even if it hurts him.
He will hide his pain to protect your happiness and friendship.
🍡 Thoma:
Ever since he first met you, Thoma knew you were off-limits. You were Ayato’s fiancée, after all. As attractive as he found you, he couldn’t get too close to you since you were already taken. He should have been content with simply befriending and serving you the way he served Ayaka and Ayato.
At first, he was.
Ever since being introduced to him, you were placed in Thoma’s care to have the loyal retainer familiarize you with the Kamisato estate and the workings of the Clan when Ayato was too busy to do so. Thoma could tell you were out of your element being engaged to someone of high political and social standing like his Lord, so he did his best to ease your nerves and help you acclimate to your new home. He surmised that being isolated in such a large manor with none of your usual friends and family around must have been lonely, so he chose to become your first friend at the estate.
Thoma regularly snuck you out to play with stray cats and dogs, and watched your face light up in a joyous smile when the animals sought out your affection. Thoma also taught you the ropes about acting like a noble. Due to your nerves, you sometimes made mistakes, but Thoma always helped you feel better by laughing off your blunders. When you expressed a desire to see your family and friends, Thoma accompanied you to the city and served as your protector. He knew what it felt like to be stranded away from family since he was separated from his mother in Mondstadt long ago, and he didn’t want you to miss your family the way he did.
Somewhere along the way, Thoma caught feelings.
He didn’t realize it immediately. It just hit him one day when he watched you and Ayato share an intimate moment on the veranda. He felt jealous and protective of you as he watched Ayato tenderly stroke your cheek and lean in for a kiss.
Thoma didn’t hate Ayato for being the one to capture your heart. He owed a lot to both the Kamisato siblings for accepting an immigrant like him and giving him a place to belong when nobody else in Inazuma did. He is eternally grateful to them for that. For this reason, his jealousy was quickly replaced with shame and guilt because he shouldn’t have feelings for you. You were Ayato’s fiancée, he knew that. You already have someone else in your heart, someone whom Thoma serves out of a sense of respect and loyalty. He would never have it in him to ruin the idyllic happiness shared between you and his Lord.
With no other option, Thoma chooses to keep his feelings for you hidden. He plays the role of your best friend perfectly, being mindful of not touching you unnecessarily or for longer than is appropriate, no matter how much he wants to. He maintains a respectful distance between you, both physically and figuratively.
Though he brushes aside your occasional puzzled glance at his sudden change in behavior, Ayato knows. Thoma can fool you, but he can’t fool Ayato. His Lord knows what’s really brewing behind the surface of the blond’s cheerful smile.
But Thoma steps back and shows Ayato that he has no intentions of getting in the way of his relationship with you. You do not love him the way you love Ayato, and that is the reality of the situation. If you want Thoma to be your friend, then he will happily remain as one, no matter how much his heart bleeds to not mean something more to you.
Thoma will smile for you, so you won’t know that something is wrong. Because nothing is wrong, he thinks. His feelings are not necessary, and he will do his best to move on to not impede the happiness of his Lord and yourself.
The only time he slipped up was when he tucked away a stray strand of your hair on your wedding day. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of your cheek for a bit longer than appropriate, but quickly pulled away to not rouse your suspicion any further. Wishing you luck, Thoma saw you off with that same warm smile plastered on his face as you prepared to meet up with Ayato to begin the wedding ceremony.
He will smile for you. Even if his heart feels like it’s being torn apart, and there’s a thick lump in his throat that makes it hard for him to speak, the least Thoma could do is smile. He will support you on your road to happiness, even if it’s not with him.
🔶 Zhongli:
Zhongli had met many people during his very long life, but few left as deep of an impression on him as you did. You were an ordinary human, a friend of Hu Tao’s he occasionally saw when you stopped by to chat with the funeral director. At first glance, there wasn’t anything particularly outstanding about you, but Zhongli found himself drawn to your energy.
When Hu Tao introduced you to him, he took an immediate liking to you and your boundless curiosity for the knowledge and stories he had to share. It was no secret that Zhongli was wise and well-informed about many things, and you saw him as a source of trivia and riveting tales about events long past.
Your undivided attention and bright eyes endeared you to Zhongli, and the god grew fond of you. He invited you to more outings where he shared interesting stories and answered any questions you had about anything at all. He had fun in your presence and was delighted to be called your dear friend.
Zhongli was well aware that there were deeper feelings brewing in his heart for you, but he was in no rush to explore or act upon them. He was content to take his time and allow your relationship with him to develop at a natural pace. Perhaps one day the two of you would grow even closer, and he would divulge his greatest secret to you about his hidden identity. For now, he would accompany you around Liyue as your friend, and share his boundless knowledge with you.
When you suddenly started zoning out during one of his long-winded speeches, he wondered if something was weighing on your mind. At first, you sheepishly brushed his concern away, saying it was nothing. When you began canceling your dates with Zhongli and scheduling fewer of them than usual, his concern deepened. When he asked for the reason behind these changes, your answer left him conflicted.
It was a charming young man from Snezhnaya, you divulged to Zhongli. A young man going by the name Tartaglia, with eyes the deepest blue you’ve ever seen, sporting a striking red scarf and mask that made him easy to spot in a crowd. Zhongli instantly knew you were talking about Childe, the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.
He warned you about the dangers of associating yourself with a man like Tartaglia, but that didn’t stop you from meeting the Harbinger on a regular basis. You were enamored with that Snezhnayan rascal, and Zhongli could do nothing but watch as you abandoned his company in favor of Childe’s. You still considered Zhongli as a friend and tried to make time for him, but spurred by your romantic feelings, you chose to prioritize Tartaglia over the former archon.
Watching you run off to be with another man left a bitter feeling in the back of Zhongli’s throat, akin to the bitterness of green tea. But perhaps, things were better off this way. You were a human, whereas Zhongli was a god. He was an ancient being that had lived thousands of years and would continue to live for hundreds if not thousands more, long after your death. He does not age the way you do, not to mention that him being not human might put you off.
Yes, it was better for you to be with someone of your own kind, even if Zhongli disapproved of the man you had chosen. However, seeing how happy you were with Tartaglia, perhaps he was wrong about the impulsive Harbinger. Childe spoiled you with gifts and meals, took you out to see new sights that Zhongli could not, and gave you a vast array of new experiences that the ancient god couldn’t hope to give you. Not to mention, Childe was a fierce and reliable protector, so despite his dangerous occupation, you were in safe hands.
You smiled more with Tartaglia than you ever did with Zhongli, and he knew that he had lost. There were very few battles Zhongli had faced defeat in throughout his long life of fighting wars, but battles of the heart were not his forte. In the battlefield of love, he was the obvious loser. At least, he could accept that fact.
Or so he thought.
The day you announced you were leaving Liyue to go live with Tartaglia in Snezhnaya, made Zhongli’s blood run cold.
Zhongli had lost many people he held dear to him, so he was used to the pain and heartache that came with loss. It still inevitably hurt, but he knew how to cope with that loss better. Losing you was a different sort of heartache, though. Knowing there was a possibility he could see you, yet being denied that privilege because your love for another man was far stronger than your attachment to anything in Liyue was a bitter pill to swallow.
Just like all the other friends and comrades he had to part with, you were also leaving his life, yet your departure was voluntary. You simply did not need him anymore. Not the way he needed you, at least. You made your decision, and Zhongli will respect it, even if something in him is screaming to convince you to stay, to not leave him for good.
He sees you off with a carefully crafted smile and all the best wishes for your future in another land. As a parting gift, he gives you a beautifully ornate hairpin. A token of your friendship, he called it, though in reality, it was his unspoken love confession. Even if you never pick up on the hidden meaning, that was alright. As long as you kept his gift, a piece of his heart would always be with you.
🍷 Kaveh:
To Kaveh, you were a warm ray of light. Whenever he felt down due to bad customers or haunting memories about his father’s untimely death, you would always be there to get him out of his depressive state and prevent him from overindulging in alcohol. You knew how to get through to him when Alhaitham couldn’t, simply by speaking with empathy and gentleness towards him, which is something Kaveh greatly appreciated. Having been faced with tragedy after tragedy, and Alhaitham’s constant harsh criticisms, your gentleness was like a soothing balm to his wounded heart.
Against his wishes, Kaveh fell in love with you. How could he not when you were so understanding and kind? He knew your relationship with him was strictly platonic, but a part of him hoped that maybe you loved him too. That maybe the two of you could be more than friends.
Being a romantic, Kaveh had daydreamed about you a lot, doodling pictures of you in his sketchbook while spinning fantasies about being in a romantic relationship with you. He pictured all the various dates he would take you on, how he would lean in to kiss you for the first time, how he would profess his undying love and hear you say those same three words back to him.
“I love you.”
The day he got to hear you say those words did come, but unlike in his fantasies, your words were not directed at Kaveh. No, instead, you said them to Alhaitham.
It felt like something out of a bad dream the way Kaveh had accidentally stumbled upon your intimate moment with Alhaitham while stepping out of his room to get a drink. He stood behind the corner, getting a glimpse of you straddling Alhaitham’s lap on the living room couch, yet going unnoticed by either of you.
Hearing your earnest confession of love directed at Alhaitham of all people, made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Bile rose to his throat when Alhaitham awkwardly reciprocated your feelings and cupped your face in a tender gesture that Kaveh didn’t know the Scribe was even capable of. Once you started to lean closer to Alhaitham’s face, Kaveh quickly made it back to his room, slamming the door shut in his haste to get away from that sight. The loud sound alerted the both of you to his presence, but Kaveh was too heartbroken to care.
What followed were weeks of agonizing turmoil. Kaveh knew he should be happy for Alhaitham. The antisocial Scribe deserved to be happy with someone he loved, but a part of him felt resentful that you chose Alhaitham over him. His fights with Alhaitham became more frequent. Kaveh nitpicked everything Alhaitham did out of jealousy, sparking conflicts that were not as easily waved away and forgotten as before. That resentment turned into guilt as Kaveh felt like a horrible person and friend for being jealous. He didn’t want to argue with Alhaitham, but he couldn’t help himself when his emotions were such a mess. He couldn’t control the impulses.
Alhaitham wasn’t stupid and quickly figured out that Kaveh was lashing out at him because of his broken heart. He had known about Kaveh’s feelings for you. The architect didn’t even try to hide his infatuation towards you, and talked about you at length to him. But you had made your choice: you gave your heart to Alhaitham, not Kaveh, and Kaveh needed to respect that. Alhaitham didn’t mince his words when he told Kaveh he needed to let go of his feelings for you because you weren’t romantically interested in him, but instead of helping, it only hurt Kaveh worse.
Of course you chose Alhaitham and not him. Compared to Alhaitham, he had no money to speak of, no house, and a mountain of debt. Moreover, he tended to overindulge in alcohol and get moody easily, plus you often told him that he hurt you with his self-destructive behaviors… It was only reasonable that Alhaitham would be a better choice in your eyes. After all, he will never be good enough for you. Not a failure like him.
You would always be an unattainable light he will admire from afar but never touch because someone like him is unworthy of you. He’s unworthy of your love—your kindness, even—and you deserve someone much, much better who can truly make you happy.
Kaveh knew all that, yet it didn’t stop his heart from shattering to pieces every time he saw you with his roommate. It felt like his heart was pierced with multiple shards of glass every time he saw you give affection to Alhaitham, those same hugs and kisses he daydreamed about having with you, but he didn’t let it show. Kaveh would pull on a strained smile and pretend that everything was okay, pretend that he was genuinely happy for you. He truly wanted to be. Dear god did he try to be, but he could not. It hurt too much to see you with another.
When the pain became too much, Kaveh started to visit Lambad’s Tavern on a frequent basis. He wasn’t proud of himself for reverting back to his bad habit of getting blackout drunk to drown out his pain and sorrow, but it was the only thing that helped him cope with the heartache.
Kaveh would drink heavily almost on a daily basis. Lambad became witness to the many times Kaveh broke down crying, and many other times when he would laugh in a self-deprecating manner and smile wryly while muttering something under his breath.
The architect had to be regularly escorted home by his friends, preferably someone other than Alhaitham because Kaveh became quite volatile when the Scribe came to take his drunk friend home. So one time, you came to take him home. Kaveh's recent avoidance of you had become worrisome, and Alhaitham wouldn’t tell you why.
While carrying the plastered blond back to your boyfriend’s house, in his drunken haze, Kaveh had confessed to you. He babbled about how much he loved you, that he was sorry he wasn’t worthy of you, and how much he wished to be loved by you the same way.
He’s sorry he can’t be a good friend to you because of his feelings.
He’s sorry he’s such a mess.
He’s sorry. So very sorry.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#kaeya x reader#kaeya alberich x reader#xiao x reader#alhaitham x reader#thoma x reader#zhongli x reader#kaveh x reader
443 notes
·
View notes
Text
Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 2]
Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia
Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: Everything's all fun and games until everyone assumes you're just being a Horny BardTM when you have, in fact, actually been kidnapped by a dragon.
🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]
“Wow,” Ace whistled, long and low, and you fought a twitch in your jaw.
He and Deuce were certainly beat to shit, but not quite ‘hurled dozens of feet through the air and a roof’ level of shit, so your spell must have cushioned at least a little of the fall. The pair of idiots stood at the entrance of the cavernous room, shifting back and forth on their heels and faces twisted up in varying degrees of horror.
“I mean, I know there’s a stereotype about bards and whatever,” he continued, aghast. “But, really? Really?”
You grit your teeth. The pointed chin resting atop your head shifted and you felt claws flex at your hips.
‘My friends will probably be coming back here soon to find me,’ you’d entreated, not five-minutes prior.
‘Your friends?’ the dragon had repeated, slow, like the concept of comradery was something completely alien. And then his eyes had narrowed. ‘Ah. They intend to steal you away,’ he’d said with all the indignation of someone who’d clearly forgotten he had literally just proclaimed his intent to the do the exact same thing.
Sparks had shot out from between his teeth, and the already too-sharp black nails tipping his fingers had curled into talons—ashy darkness trailing up his arms like a seeping stain.
‘What? No,’ you’d lied. ‘They would never. I’m sure they’re just curious. Whether I’m still alive or not, I mean.’
‘Oh,’ he’d blinked, that venomous ire seeping from his gaze as if it’d never been there to begin with. ‘I suppose that does make sense.’
So when your loveable idiots had eventually stormed in—swords drawn, banners flying—you schooled your countenance into something as placid as possible. Something that perhaps conveyed ‘I would love for you guys to help me out here, but also I would really like not to see the three of us become tonight’s entrée. So like. Maybe sit this one out.’ But whatever expression you ended up making clearly wasn’t doing what you were aiming for if Ace’s first instinct was to accuse you of Horny Bard Shenanigans.
Or maybe your face wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just the nearly seven-foot-tall, naked, dragon man draped across your shoulders. Who’s to say.
“This has nothing to do with that,” you snapped, ears burning.
“Do with what?” The newly dubbed Tsunotarou rumbled. He was pressed close enough that you could feel the worlds roll through his chest—annnnd you were going to stop yourself right there and focus very, very, intently on getting through this conversation alive.
“Human things,” you spluttered frantically.
“Ah,” he hummed, his chin shifting from the crown of your head to dip down and instead rest atop the curve of your shoulder. “You’ll have to explain it to me later, then. I do find our cultural differences very intriguing. You humans are so… new age.”
“Explain it to you later…?” Deuce frowned, and you could see the words zipping around behind his eyes to slowly put themselves together into a cohesive thought. He shot ramrod straight and whipped his arm out accusatorily. “You’re staying?!”
“Of course,” you said, with all the enthusiasm of someone with a knife held to their throat. You locked eyes as obviously as you could—hoping he’d get the message. “It’s in everyone’s best interest.”
You could see the pinched look on his face, the heavy weight of discontentment tugging at his brow. There was a war being waged in that man’s head—a battle between what lingering, frail, shreds of rationality and comprehension remained, and the desire to be a good friend and save our bard! Because mama said I should be good to my friends! You stared him down hard, silently begging, pleading, to just let it go. The fingers gripping his axe tightened and you could hear the leather of his gauntlets creak with strain. Tsunotarou hummed, something like amusement coloring the throaty rumble, and it tingled all the way from the tips of your toes to the cheek he was tucked up against. The claws at your side flexed—not deep enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that funny as the notion of a teeny, human, barbarian hurling themselves at a dragon was, it wasn’t going to be a good enough joke to earn said dragon’s mercy.
“Well, duh, you’re staying!” Ace interrupted slickly, sliding in front of Deuce and his burbling rage like a fox finally skulking from its hole. “Look at what a great new friendyou’ve made! You can’t just leave him here all on his lonesome, now can you?”
The low rumble skirting along your back melted into something that was very nearly a purr. Your eyes flickered to your captor’s face—or as much of his face as you could manage to make out, considering he had plastered himself to your side like an overgrown cat. His lips were curled back into that smug, contented, smirk—the tips of his sharp canines just barely peeked out over his bottom lip.
“We’ll come back and check on you, of course,” Ace continued. He waved his hand at the dragon, like they were old chums shooting the shit over a pint of ale in a tavern. “You know how it is. Gotta make sure they’re settling in all right—make sure you’re keeping with your honorable intentions and whatnot. How’s two weeks from now sound?”
“Two weeks?!” you wailed.
Tsunotarou grumbled, clearly also displeased. “I agree. That seems far too soon.”
“Two months?” the ginger countered easily.
“Ace!”
The dragon seemed to consider this new proposal quite thoroughly. You could feel his long lashes flick down against your cheek as his eyes went hooded, heavy—slipping back into his thoughts to ponder upon this newly proffered timeline. After a long, long, moment, he lifted himself from your neck and plonked his chin back down atop the crown of your head.
“That is acceptable.”
Deuce looked entirely unimpressed. You had a feeling you looked like you were about to shit yourself. Ace, naturally, seemed more or less content.
“Well then!” the traitor chirped. “We’ll see you when we see you then, yeah?”
You grit you teeth, but your gaze flicked to your other, kinder, friend and you bit back the slew of heinous insults brewing on your tongue. Deuce still looked more than ready to jump into the fray, consequences be damned. And you were not going to let your terrible, horrible, no-good, rotten luck end all his valiant attempts at redemption when he inevitably attempted to go toe-to-toe with the business end of a dragon.
“…Are you sure you’re gonna be alright here?” Deuce asked, face twisted up in distaste.
There was a pissy rumble from over your shoulder.
“Do you doubt my abilities as a host?”
“Of course he doesn’t!” Ace cut in, ever the bootlicker. “And besides,” he drawled, elbowing his companion in the ribs. “You know how bards are. I’m sure this is right up their alley.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Deuce went pale—then green. Ace turned on you with a smile that was all vinegar. “Right?”
‘I should not let them be murdered horribly,’ you repeated to yourself past the crimson rage leaking into your vision. ‘I should not let them be horribly murdered—’
“Righteo!” you forced yourself to spit. And if you somehow managed to survive these next two months, you were going to string that red haired traitor up by his pinkies and feed him to the crows that lived outside your window.
Your friends slipped away slowly, hesitantly—Deuce looking like he’d been struck down by a horrid case of food poisoning or something else equally as stomach churning. Once they were gone, Tsunotarou lifted his chin from your head so that he could crane his neck over your shoulder and look at you more directly. Not that he had to try very hard, seeing as he was gigantic, whether on two legs or four.
“What was the small, ugly, one referring to?” he asked curiously. “About your profession?”
Your life flashed before your eyes.
“Bards are known for their hearty curiosity and drive to experience new situations,” you repeated, verbatim, from the little adventurer’s handbook you’d been gifted by Lord Crewel all those years ago.
“Oh,” he hummed, nodding into your hair. “Of course.”
.
.
The first major hurdle cropped up barely two hours later.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
The dragon blinked slowly, as if mentally tallying through a list of human bodily functions to try and figure out just what on earth you were talking about.
“Ah,” he said after a moment. And then he began to melt away—limbs stretching and cracking, and porcelain complexion bubbling up with inky miasma so thick and dark it may as well have been tar. It was both horrifying and awe-inspiring to watch, like some great creature of old emerging from an arcane cocoon. And not two minutes later, a familiar, ebony, dragon was standing before you in all its glory.
He lowered his snout and nosed around your shoulders for a moment, snuffling and searching. And then he pinched your collar between his teeth and hauled you into the air.
You tried not to scream. Really, you did. But humans just weren’t meant for flying, let alone while suspended between the jaws of a beast that could swallow them whole. By the time you landed, you were so wobbly and windswept that you nearly collapsed to the ground then and there, bladder be damned. Tsunotarou warbled something deep in his chest, and you glanced up past the thin veil of icy sweat dripping into your eyes.
He'd placed you into a blown-out enclave that had probably once been a very nice hallway. And in the corner was the remains of what indeed looked like a bathroom. You straightened yourself as much as you could and began hobbling woozily towards what you hoped was a proper, enchanted, toilet and not just some block of stone with a bowl at the bottom.
There was an echoing thud from behind you and you jumped, startled, and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Tsunotarou had sat his massive head at the entrance. And he continued to sit there. Watching.
“Uhm,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”
He stared, unmoving. You sighed and squashed your fingers into your temples.
“…We’re going to have to establish some boundaries,” you said. The dragon’s gigantic, neon, eyes closed and opened—like a question. “Boundaries,” you repeated. “Things that we do on our own.”
The beast’s lips flattened into a grumpy line and he grumbled something unintelligible at you, spitting loose sparks from behind his overly long canines.
However, mouthful of razor-sharp teeth in your face or otherwise, everyone had to draw the line between pride and self-preservation somewhere. And having to piss in front of an audience was apparently yours.
You waved your hands in a shoo shoo motion and those amethyst crests flattened irritably atop his skull. He settled in further, the structure of the terrace groaning beneath the weight of his scaly chin. You worried your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn’t exactly like there was a door or anything that you could just, like, shut in his face. And beating him off with a broom or something like a stray cat was out of the question—just out of sheer impossibility. You were going to have to get creative here…
An idea popped into your head and you leaned forward with a charismatic little smile that you’d unleashed on so many traders, and shopkeepers, and unsuspecting bakers that it ought to be considered a weapon in its own right. You’d practiced it in the mirror for weeks.
“I’ll tell you a story,” you offered, and his slitted pupils rounded a bit—intrigued. “That’s what I was before all this, you know. A storyteller.” You had his full interest now, those purple crests rippling behind his horns. “But you have to close your eyes,” you said. “It makes it easier to imagine that way.”
He stared you down curiously for a heartbeat or three, and then Tsunotarou’s gigantic, luminous, eyes slipped shut.
You sighed and plopped yourself down on the decrepit, stone, toilet.
“Once upon a time,” you began, sweeping your cloak out in front of you to give yourself at least a little bit more dignity. One of those crests twitched at the sound of swirling fabric, but his eyes remained dutifully closed. “There was a bard who made some very terrible life decisions—"
.
.
The next bump in the road came the following afternoon.
“People tend to wear clothes,” you said.
He canted his head at you. “I am not a person.”
Oh for fucks sake.
Tsunotarou was stretched out along one of the many, grand, banisters lining what you assumed had once been a ballroom—lounging in the dim light like a lizard sunning itself on a rock. Apparently, before your arrival, he’d very rarely, if ever, shed his wings and scales for this more compact form. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying spreading himself out across all the new surfaces that the change in size allowed him. Part of you would have thought it was a bit endearing—seeing this eldritch monster merrily falling into the ‘if I fits, I sits’ way of life. The other part was sick of nearly collapsing in cardiac arrest every time you caught sight of his very naked self reclining across some new piece of furniture.
“Yes,” you intoned, deadpan. “But you look like one.”
He blinked slowly, as if putting together a thought. “I see. The dissonance of observing a vestige of humanity which does not actually fit the mold of a human must be disconcerting to you.” He rested a knuckle lightly against his chin as he pondered. “In the same way I may feel uncomfortable if you took on the form a dragon with no teeth or tail.”
“Sure. Whatever,” you bemoaned. “Just. Pants? Please?”
He observed you quietly for a moment, amusement dancing across his features. And then he grinned, putting the pointed tips of those impressive canines of his on full display.
“Well I suppose if you’re going to ask so sweetly.”
He sat up with a stretch that was outright spitting in the face of your plea for modesty, and then spread his hands. His black-tipped fingers twisted gracefully, artfully, and the cavernous room filled with the scent of packed earth and ozone. Soft puffs of emerald light glided along his arms, and in their wake sprouted tendrils of sheer, silken, sleeves. Those dancing lights traveled merrily from his shoulders to his hips, and then back again—spinning magic into fabric like little, ghostly, seamstresses as they went.
The soft glow faded and the silk settled around him with all the delicacy of a cloud. It was stunning, certainly. A true work of beauty. With billowing sleeves that cinched neatly at his wrists, and swept into an open window across his front. The fabric wrapped itself snuggly at his waist and draped low enough to offer at least what should have been the bare minimum of modesty. It pooled across his shoulders, splaying out into a split cape that looked eerily similar to the wings he dawned in his other, scalier, form.
But this lovely new ensemble—as gloriously shiny and magical as it was—was still nearly fucking transparent. And yeah, the shadows curling along the spiraling silk did a decent enough job at obscuring what ought to be obscured. But at the same time, somehow this impression of cloth, of loose fabric that dipped below his collar bones and hung uneven and open across his pale chest, was worse than the outright fucking nudity. Scandalous. Like walking in on a seduction scene in a trashy novel.
“…maybe you should just do whatever makes you comfortable,” you managed to cough out, gaze slipping downwards of its own accord. And then more down. You gulped. “D-Don’t feel the need to change yourself on my account.”
He stared grumpily at his swanky new outfit. And then back at you. His lips pursed into a pout.
“You don’t find it pleasing.”
Your eyes rolled up to stare miserably, tormentedly, at the ceiling, and you began reciting every religious verse you could think of. Thou shall not steal or covet. In the name of the Mother, the Crone, and the Hallowed Throne. Head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Aye, Macarena—
“It looks perfectly nice. I just think that you have as much of a right to be happy in your skin as I do,” you reiterated. “I—I mean, you’re already keeping yourself human more often than not just so we can talk.” Which was true enough, but also mostly an attempt to make it seem like your concern was genuinely aimed at him and not your steadily rising blood pressure.
“…you’re incredibly strange,” he grumbled after a moment, his brow tugging low on his forehead. More pouting. “And impossibly frustrating to read.”
The heat radiating off your face like a fucking active volcano felt ‘possible’ enough to you, but what did you know.
“That’s why you’re keeping me around,” you reminded him.
Ten minutes later, he was sprawled out with his head in your lap, the ridges of his horns bumping your hips and inky black hair spilling over your thighs. Naked as a jaybird.
“Tell me another story,” he hummed, eyes slipping closed.
“Sure,” you agreed, gaze once again firmly locked on the hundreds of cracks in the ceiling. You’d probably have them all memorized by this evening, or at the very least have managed to count them all up a dozen times over.
You were halfway through some yarn about armies made of playing cards and worlds beyond looking glasses when Tsunotarou sighed, heavy and bone deep. Content. And then he turned to bury his cheek into the rough fabric of your traveler’s pants with a rumbling drawl that was not unlike a purr. His nose pressed itself into the inseam of your thigh and your brain fuzzed out like you’d been shot pointblank with a Wand of Lightning Bolts.
“Child of Man?” he huffed after a moment—one, neon, eye flicking open to glare up at you grumpily. “What happened then? To the cat that smiled too wide and the man with the mad hats?”
“R-Right,” you squawked. “Uhm—so as I was saying—”
You stared back at all those cracks and started counting again from zero.
#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#Malleus Draconia x Reader#Malleus x Reader#Malleus Draconia#Malleus x Yuu#Dragon Malleus#Monster Mayhem#My Writing#Twst Fantasy AU#Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 2
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡
Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader I Brief!Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader
Summary: you ought to not be surprised by Farleigh's constant cheating. You should, instead, use his greatest adversary to get back at him.
Warnings: Language, Dark fic, Mentions of Violence, Toxic Relationship, Mentions of Drug Use, Smut (+18), Public Sex, Cheating, Dirty Talk, Dub/Con, Choking, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Threats, Rough Sex, Sadism, Masochism, Dry Humping, Orgasm Denial,Cervix fucking, Dom!Oliver, Subspace, Corruption Kink, Humiliation,
This film opened my brain and spilled out everything inside.
𖤓
Because neither you nor Farleigh had ever been modest about your relationship, Oliver was made privy to every single bit of it. You both were so indiscreet and so hellbent on showing everyone else that you were together, it felt as if Oliver lived in your skin.
Whenever you and Farleigh cuddled drunkenly, Oliver was made privy. Whenever you and Farleigh exchanged sexually charged glances across the dinner table, Oliver was made privy. Whenever Farleigh was touch-starved and sank his claws around your throat, Oliver, always skulking in the background, was made privy. Whenever you two fucked. He was there.
Oliver could hear the two of you eating each other alive during a majority of his stay at Saltburn so he should be used to this behavior by now.
“What a slut,” Farleigh's words are wrapped in humid sweat, with his hands locked firmly around your throat, “What a good fucking slut.”
Oliver, having just decided to take a midnight stroll, watches from the shadows as Farleigh takes you right there in the courtyard. He may not particulary fond of Farleigh, still Oliver had to applaud that he at least had the decency to ravage you in secret. Oliver remains watching, not because it gives him any sexual gratification, but only because he did not imagine your sex lives to be this visceral… certainly not this animalistic.
“You are fucking filth, you know that?” Farleigh asks, rutting into you with your back pressed against a stone surface. Instead of your eyes fluttering shut, you were gazing over Farleigh's shoulder, staring straight ahead at the shadow skulking in the darkness.
Oliver held a finger up to his lips, prompting you to keep your mouth shut.
You watch each other as Farleigh fucks into you, continuing his words of mindless praise. “Gorgeous fucking filth-” and you both cum at that. Farleigh with his eyes shut, and you, with your mouth hanging open and your gaze stationed on Oliver.
Before this exact moment, Felix was the only thing that existed in Oliver's whole wide world. He did not notice you, but never ever think that he was not aware of you. In fact, as far as Oliver knew, you held no standing of any official significance in Saltburn.
Beyond, of course, being Farleigh's overcompensated whore.
You were almost as inescapable as Farleigh, but not nearly as annoying and for the most part, you played the role of a good little girl, forever glued to her unfaithful boyfriend’s side.
These are the thoughts that pollute Oliver’s mind as he drifts through the vibrancy of his own party, having left the maze and Felix's limp body in it.
Oliver's feet, clad in all-too-expensive Italian leather only seem to weigh him down as he drifts aimlessly through the egregious castle. Neon lights spill over a carpet stitched with cocaine and he has to fight the urge not to shove past the drunken bodies congesting his pathway.
For the longest time, Oliver was convinced that you were one of them: These people disguised as parasitic waste dancing underneath the moonlight, celebrating his supposed birthday. Instead, Oliver finds you here, taking up space in the Blue Room with your figure helplessly draped over the bed.
Your form is reminiscent of The Nightmare. One of Oliver’s most beloved paintings, reason being, because it was so unequivocally dreadful. He watches you as he would The Nightmare.
Your eyes are wet and your body is wracking with pitiful sobs into your forearm. Ollie may not be good at emotions but he can tell you're distraught- like one of Fuseli's girls.
Soon, the whole thing becomes too uncomfortable to watch and he clears his throat as he says,
“Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't think anyone was in here.”
“Oh-Ollie!”
Your shoulders shoot up, and you nearly jump off the bed in apparent fright. Your eyes are wide saucers and your skin is dark in the moonlight. Ollie has to resist the urge to lick his lips.
He wanted to fucking eat you alive.
“Fuck, did I scare you?” He hunches his shoulders, making himself smaller than he usually was. “My apologies.” He had to appease you somehow in your startled state and you You quick to press a shaky palm to your cheeks, utterly devestated to find the surface of your skin wet and salty.
Out of all the parasites in this nest, you were the least bloodthirsty.
“How utterly embarrassing,” you coo, before wiping furiously away at your cheeks.
Sensing the perfect opening, Oliver steps over the threshold, polluting the space, as he did the rest of Saltburn, with his presence alone.
“Where'd you come from?” You ask before sitting up at the edge of the bed.
“Murdering my best friend.” Oliver answers cooly, with his wooden horns silhouetted by the moonlight.
As he creeps closer the moonlight highlights the crevices of your face and Ollie is able to capture the smile that cracks across your visage. He loves that.
You are so deliciously routine.
“Understandable,” you calmly shoot back, “Sometimes I could just fucking kill Farleigh myself.”
How curious. You thought he was joking.
“That's why you were crying, then?” Ollie asks, as he skulks about the Blue Room. He glides his finger across the dusty mantle before turning his eyes back to you, “You were crying because of Farleigh?”
He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear you say it.
Your glittery brows curve again above your puffy eyes, just as your lips protrude into a shaky pout. Fuck he was so painfully hard.
“You'd rather eat glass than hear about my common relationship problems,” you chuckle, fighting back a sob.
“I'd rather eat glass than get back to that stupid party.” And his eyes are so genuine, you immediately believe him. “You'd be saving me, he says, before finally planting himself down on the bed beside you. “Promise.”
“Not much to tell honestly,” You shrug, causing the left string of your cocktail dress to fall off your shoulder. You leave it there. “ You know how Farleigh can be... He has somewhat of a-”
“-Communal penis?” Ollie interjects, “Fucking anything and everything that even vaguely gives him the time of day?”
“Exactly!” and before you know it, you're giggling in the dark with a stranger. “I get tested for STD's like I'm a fucking invalid-”
“The sexiest fucking invalid I've ever come across.” He's closer now. Close enough to tell you've been drinking.
With your eyes trained on his full lips, a thought strikes you suddenly. "Happy birthday, Ollie.” That is enough to snap his gaze up from your exposed collarbone, and up to your big, round eyes. He does not respond for several seconds, promtpting you with the devestaing thought that you might have struck some unforseen nerve.
“H-ave I upset you?” You ask in such genuine concern and naivete, it nearly causes Oliver to cum in his fucking pants. He needed to defile you so badly. He needed you to cry around his cock. He just needed you-
“'Course not," Oliver clears his throat before unclenching and clenching his wired fist, "It's just-you're the first person that's said that to me all night.” Your eyes are hazy now, with your brain having caught on to the very daunting fact that you're in a room with someone who perhaps has other intentions. He is leaning in before slithering his calloused hand on your thigh. Never ever do you move away. Never ever do you tell him off.
“I find that hard to believe-” your bones are rattling as the warmth of his palm spreads to the inside of your steadily opening thighs. “Surely Felix must've said-”
“Fuck fucking Felix- the world doesn't revolve around him!” You're corralled into silence, with this man steadily pushing you back against the bed. “We don't need to talk about Felix,” he looks absolutely ravenous as the tips of his fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to make you cum?”
It's so blatantly filthy, you cannot help but arch your back off the bed and press yourself further against his fingers. “F-Fuck… Ollie-” your breathing is laboured and Ollie watches utterly mesmerised by the way your hips move against his hand.
“I h-heard something about you-”
“What did you hear?” asks Oliver before pulling down your soaked underwear.
“That you don't care about fucking on menses.” You say, awaiting a response but getting none because Oliver stuffs his face between your legs. He's eating you out with absolute fervour, with his nose bumping periodically against your clit.
“Where'd you hear that?” He mumbles against your cunt.
He did not expect to be so utterly taken by you. This is wholly unexpected.
“A certain bottled blonde- FUCK- J-Just like that- please, God, please-”
He only pulls away, only to shrug off his blazer. With his horns and his cock indenting against his pants, he looks absolutely terrifying, that only has you rutting in the air helplessly.
“You mean Venetia is not a real blonde?” He asks before shoving his face in between your legs once more, “I feel betrayed.” The sarcasm drips from his tongue. The same tongue that slithers out his mouth to lick hurriedly against your cunt. He suctions his lips against your hole, as if he wanted to taste inside you.
“I didn't fuck her-” He pants, before pushing his nose against your cunt, “I didn't fuck her all the way- FUCKING BITCH-” Sharp pain bleeds from his scalp because your fingers and its acrylics are buried in his hair now.
“G-God, yes, Ollie-” you're actively rubbing your cunt against his face, absolutely using him to get off. Almost immediately, Oliver immediately decides that won't do.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asks, before pinching your clit causing you to still your movements completely. Your torso is wracking with sweat and your nipples pierce through the softness of your dress.
“O-Ollie P-please-”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asks before removing his face from your cunt all together. You try desperately, to hold your moan, but the sight of him crawling up your torso seems enough to almost have you cumming untouched.
You fight against it. You fight against the warmth in the pits of your stomach, you fight against the urge to hump mindlessly into the air until your cunt creates friction with… something. You fight hard.
His breath is warm against your face, but never once do you look away.
“I use you,” he whispers before slithering a hand around your throat.
He squeezes.
“And I'd fucking die before I ever let it be the other way around.” He squeezes and squeezes until you're tapping furiously against his palm.
“Look at how gorgeous you look when you're not being a filthy fucking whore.” You can't help it. Your hips immediately buck up into nothing despite your shortness of breath. You're clawing at his wrists, hoping he'd ease his grip but Oliver does nothing of the sort. In fact, he only moans at the sight of your eyes sinking to the back of your head-
“Fucking, fuck-” He curses, before quickly undoing the vexing buttons of his pants. “Bloody disgusting,” he says, watching the drool ease out your mouth, “You are bloody disgusting-” he sinks into you the very moment he eases his hand away from your throat. You're gulping generously at the air as Oliver slaps against your cheeks, bringing you back to the land of the living.
“There she is,” he punctuates his sentence with a violent thrust, “There she fucking is-”
Pleasure and pain shoot through every channel of your body until you can't even decipher the two. “OH MY FUCKING GOD-”
“I love when you call me that, baby,” He mumers with his eyelids heavy, “I fucking love when you call me that, with your pretty fucking voice, you USELESS fucking bitch-”
It is absolutely sick and absolutely deranged. Every other word that skates out of his mouth is a contradiction of the last and you're utterly frightened of the beast taking you so roughly.
“You're taking it so well-” he whispers, before letting his hand squeeze your nipples through your dress, “Your cunt is taking my cock so fucking well, baby- Fuck-” when the head of his cock presses to that sensitive pillowy plushness, you're wailing in the dark like a banshee. Wanting to push him off of you, but not wanting the pleasure to end. Your struggle only brings him closer and closer to edge.
“I-Is that your fucking cervix, baby- Fuck-”
“Oh God- Ollie.”
He nods, “Now you're gonna cum for me, yeah? You're gonna cum for me and you're gonna think about your stupid cunt of a boyfriend. How he doesn't fuck you like I do-” your orgasm has already started to trickle in and your hips lift up to collide with his, “Tell me- Tell me you can't fucking live without me-” He says, “I need it to cum, tell me, tell me-”
“I need you, Ollie.” His lips stutter open, just as his thrusts become shallower and shallower “I need you to fucking live, Ollie-”
“FUCK- oh fucking fuck-” his spunk fills your insides, just as the entirety of your orgasm washes over you and you immediately realize that you're crying. You're crying because everything feels so good. Oliver has completely strummed you to orgasm. He has moulded your body into everything he needs it to be.
“I fucking use you.” He says, “Not the other way around.”
#saltburn#saltburn x reader#oliver quick#oliver quick x reader#oliver quick smut#saltburn smut#oliver quick x you#oliver quick x y/n
954 notes
·
View notes
Note
can we talk about the first time you suck bby boy eddie's fingers? like it's all innocent and everything but he'd be sooo turned on. because I think about it a lot
✶ ┄ EDDIE'S FINGERS !
summary: you're obsessed with eddie munson's fingers. so obviously when you have the opportunity to put them in your mouth, you're going to.
pairing: eddie munson / f!reader
warnings: finger sucking??? it's a little bit suggestive
a/n: anon... you're so right. this is absolutely something everyone should be talking about.
( MASTERLIST )
here’s the thing about eddie
the kid’s got some gorgeous fucking fingers
and all of the rings he wears just adds to it really
he’s just trying to bake a cake for wayne’s birthday but that's seriously all you can think about
you’re sitting on the counter behind him while he tries to figure out how to work the mixer by the stove that’s been collecting dust about as long as he’s been alive
his back is to you and you can see the muscles of his back flexing through his t-shirt while he tries to put the thing together
and you try to warn him about putting it on the highest speed immediately but he doesn’t listen
so obviously he gets cake batter all over his arms
his so very, very pretty, beautiful arms—
thankfully you’re not in the splash zone so you come out unscathed
but eddie’s a total mess and so is the counter
everything (including him) is covered in batter and flour and sugar
and he just keeps adding to the mess
he’s so concentrated on making sure everything tastes right he doesn’t care about anything else
when he successfully gets the cake into the oven with minimal damage done, he starts working on making the icing from scratch
because ofc he made everything from scratch
i seriously believe that this man is a whole ass baker and no one can tell me otherwise (baker!eddie anyone???)
but he keeps taste-testing each batch and you can’t help but watch him so intently
he dips his fingers into the bowl like an animal and scoops the icing up to his mouth
his cheeks hollow while he sucks the sugary substance from his fingers
and you watch the profile of his face contort from delight to disgust and then to confusion
he furrows his brows and scrunches his cute lil nose
and walks until he’s standing between your legs
“can you taste this for me, babe? i can’t tell if it’s good or not”
he all but shoves the bowl at you
and he’s basically holding it with the palms of his hands because 1. it’s sticky and messy and 2. his fingers are also sticky and messy with bits of icing still on them and his rings
“i don’t know… are you sure it’s not gonna poison me?”
“pinky promise, sweetheart”
and obv he’s expecting u to go for the wooden spoon he’s got sitting in the bowl
so you can imagine his surprise when you grab his wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth
he almost drops the entire fucking bowl
he watches with suddenly heavy eyes as you suck the icing from his knuckles
and flick your tongue at the tip of his fingers
and then tilt your head to the side to lick off the remaining icing on his silver rings, just for good measure
your eyes flutter shut a little and you hum and the taste
and eddie’s breathing gets all heavy and his eyes glaze over
because holy shit now he wants you to do that to his dick
you pull back with a nod
“could use a little more sugar”
eddie pulls back and hopes his face isn’t as red hot as it feels
“yes ma’am”
got any blurb requests? send 'em here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱
#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson imagine#stranger things imagine#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie spaghetti hc#published by bug#st headcanons
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
The King and his Red Knight
DPxDC crossover fic
Part 1
Really sorry to everyone who suffered through the fact that I didn't know about the existence of readmore. I can't fix the thread now but the individual posts are better? Sorry I have like a very rough idea of how this site works 😭
Check the: The King and his Red Knight tag to find all the parts
"Go here, Danny. Go then, Danny. Go to a random cemetery in the middle of the night for no reason, Danny." A voice grumbled, accompanied by the sound of sneakers rhythmically tapping stone.
Danny Fenton, currently Phantom, sat on a gravestone, his white hair a beacon in the dark night. There were no stars in the sky for him to gaze upon, their light hidden behind swaths of smog and neon lights playing off the gray clouds.
Clockwork had dumped him here, with no explanation for why. Not that he ever really explained much when he sent Danny off on his tasks. He supposed he should be grateful, at least he was in the same when rather than being transported a thousand years into the past.
"Wait here King Phantom. You will understand in time." Danny mimicked his mentor's voice as he let himself float off the grave he'd been dumped on after Clockwork shoved him out of a portal. His body floated higher until he could flip around, his legs crossing. He sat upside down, his chin in his palm as he glared petulantly at the assembled gravestones surrounding him, his toxic green eyes glowing.
"So far all I've seen is a concerning amount of ecotplasm for a city without a ghost portal and some blob ghosts! How long am I supposed to wait here?" Danny asked the air, and the aforementioned blob ghosts who were hanging off his body, soaking in the ambient ecotoplasm he radiated at all times now.
Neither provided him with an answer to his question and Danny let out a frustrated groan as he lowered his still flipped body to look once more on the gravestone he'd been tasked with waiting on.
Jason Todd, the name read. The dates, too close together, made something in Danny squeeze painfully. He'd been young, barely older than Danny when he stepped into the portal. Only for this teenager there had been no ectoplasm to bind to his dying body and repair the damage of death and force him back into a semblance of life.
"Who were you and why did Clockwork send me to you?" Danny asked the gravestone, one clawed finger tracing the words before he pulled back with a sigh when the gravestone gave him no explanation. The dead didn't always speak, not even to their king.
Turning his body Danny looked over the rest of the cemetery. It was empty, as most usually were this time of night, of the living. There were a few shades wandering around, circling closer to him, drawn by his presence. No full ghosts though, but oddly enough there rarely were in cemeteries. This was where the dead came to rest. To remember, if they wanted to. Cemeteries were sacred spaces to the dead, much as a temple or a church would be for the living who were religious. Ghosts who still clung to life, to their obsessions, did not frequent cemeteries, did not dare trespass and disturb those who had already found their peace.
Danny himself was an oddity. He had never shied from cemeteries, enjoying the peace he found in them, the guarantee of safety offered. And perhaps, he mourned that he himself would never have a gravestone for the living to place their flowers and their tears at. Who would make a grave for someone who was both alive and dead? There would never be a body to bury for him. His human half would continue to live on so long as his ghost core remained and could fuel it.
Maybe that was why he found peace in cemeteries, for all his whining that Clockwork had dumped him here. Cemeteries were for the living and the dead, one of the only places both existed in harmony naturally. For someone who was as much dead as he was alive such a place held a certain degree of belonging for him.
Danny straightened out in the air, letting his body lie above the grave as he folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the covered sky. He complained and whined about this task, but he was secretly glad that Clockwork had given him something to do. Even if it was just 'hang out in a random cemetary'.
Ever since he'd graduated high-school, revealed himself to his parents and discovered how deep prejudice and hate could run, and he'd run away to the Infinite Realms for sanctuary while his friends moved forward with their lives, he'd felt unmoored. A ghost with no haunt. Bored was too light a word for the gaping emptiness he felt in his chest, for the loneliness clawing at him. Clockwork, Wulf, Pandora they could help chip at the ache inside of him but not banish it. Not now that his family, his friends, were spread so far apart and so distant from him.
Not that he resented their choices, their distance, in fact he'd fought for them to do just that, to get out of Amity Park, to go to college, to become more than overworked teen superheroes. Still he missed them, even if he could visit them whenever he wanted. It was becoming clear as time moved forward that the world they belonged to and the one he did were two different things.
Danny Fenton couldn't go to college when his parents had declared him dead. Danny Fenton didn't exist as far as the government was concerned. Danny Phantom couldn't return to Amity when those same parents were waiting to capture him and tear him apart 'molecule by molecule'. Danny Phantom couldn't go back when the GIW were crawling over the town like ants.
So neither Danny Fenton or Danny Phantom returned to Amity after that day. And he made sure they couldnt follow him when he ensured the portal that took his life to function never opened again. He didn't need the portal any longer to get in and out of the Infinite Realms, and it was safer for the ghosts, his subjects, if the temptation of the Fenton portal was gone.
The world of the living was not yet ready to accept that the dead didn't always stay dead. And Danny would keep his people safe until they were.
Danny jolted from his lazing state of reverie when a pulse of emotion rocked through him, the strength of it stealing his breath if he had any to take.
Fear/Trapped/Dark/Fear/Help/HELP pounded into him and Danny frantically flipped around, head swiveling, poisonous green eyes wide as he triedf to locate the source. The emotions, the plea for help, burned his core, his Obsession screamed at him.
Help/SomeonePlease/Dark/Trapped/CANTBREATHE/HELP another wave of messages, of emotions pushed themselves at Danny and this time underneath the onslaught he could hear a rhythmic thudding. Danny looked down, horror filling him when he realized the thudding was coming from under the ground. From the grave he'd been hovering over for an hour now.
Danny flew down, sending back a wave of I'mHere/HelpIsComing/I'mComing to the boy trapped in his own coffin, feeling the intense wave of relief and hope sent back before he dived into the earth as if it wasn't there. Danny paused for a moment when he passed the thick wooden coffin, seeing a boy in the dark with wide, panicked blue eyes and fingers tipped with shredded nails and fresh blood.
"Hey, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" Danny told the boy, keeping his voice gentle, soft. The boy jolted, fixating on the only source of light, Danny's growing green eyes. Danny hoped his smile came off as calming instead of 'freaky AF' as Tucker liked to call it. He grabbed the boy, Jason, as carefully as he could and then let his intangibility wash over the terrified teen as he lifted them both out of the coffin.
When they emerged from the coffin and the ground Danny set the teen down, leaning him against the gravestone, his own gravestone, and pulled back a bit. The boy was gasping in air as if the fetid, polluted air was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.
Danny tilted his head as he watched the boy ground himself. Now that the emotions were leveling out and his Obsession was purring in contentment rather than growling in a frenzy, Danny could feel something off about the boy.
Disregarding the fact that he'd just come back from the dead, of course. But that wasn't the oddest thing Danny had seen in his afterlife. No the boy felt... not like a normal, living human. Not even like an Amity Park resident, who all felt more than slightly liminal. No this boy, this Jason Todd, felt closer to liminal than even Jazz, Tucker or Sam, who were three of the most liminal humans Danny had ever been around.
Jason felt almost...like a ghost. But not. Danny could feel the tickle in his throat that proceeded his ghost sense but the tell-tale mist never emerged. It was as if Jason was...like him. But Danny couldn't sense a core either. Even halfas had cores.
"Who are you?" Jason spoke, breaking Danny from his thoughts and examination. Jason was looking at him with a mix of gratitude and suspicion. Which, fair. Danny had just pulled him from his own coffin and there were so many questions that could stem from all of this, disregarding all the weirdness that was just Danny himself.
"I'm Danny, Danny Phantom. Or just Phantom. I go by either. And you're Jason, right?" Danny asked, smiling at the teen and oops, yeah that was definitely his scary smile based on the slight flinch there. It wasn't his fault his teeth were too sharp now and his lips split a bit too wide.
"How did you know that?" Jason asked, blue eyes narrowing. Danny nodded at the gravestone the boy was leaning against with a raised brow. Jason turned and almost toppled over from the movement. Danny frowned as the boy caught himself on his gravestone. His skin was still pale, too pale, and as Danny watched Jason swayed again.
"Shit. You're fading. You didn't form a core and your body isn't stabilizing." Danny cursed, moving towards the boy who scrambled back, only to be stopped by his grave.
"What the hell are you doing?" Jason asked, hands fisting as he tried to rise only to fall back to the ground when his legs refused to hold his weight.
"Saving your life. The dead aren't supposed to come back. There's always a price to pay, a balance that is struck. Currently, as you are, if I don't get enough ectoplasm in you to form your core, you'll fade and turn into a brain-dead husk." Danny told Jason, tone stern and no nonsense as he grabbed him. Jason made an effort to break free, but it was weak, and even at full strength, he wouldn’t have been able to break Danny's hold. Few in this realm could.
If they had the time, Danny would've approached this situation in a far different manner, but this close he could hear Jason's heartbeat, a weak flutter in his chest, skipping beats as it tried to fuel a body that was past saving. Jason didn't have the time for Danny to approach this gently and kindly, to coax trust out of the teen like he would a feral cat.
Jason had minutes left before his ectoplasm starved body consumed itself trying to make a core and failed because while wherever they were had more ambient ectoplasm than most places, it was far from enough to sustain the birth of a halfa. Maybe if Jason had stayed dead for another year, he'd have naturally formed a core and risen as a proper ghost. But that wasn't what happened, somehow he'd gathered enough to fix his body of whatever wounds or illness had put him in that coffin to begin with and come back to 'life' but without a core to sustain his body he'd be dead, again, in minutes. And Danny was not about to watch while a teenager, another teenager, died.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Jason hissed as Danny pushed his arms down and laid his clawed hands on Jason's chest.
"You don't. But you don't have another choice." Danny said with a shrug. "Now are you going to let me save your life or not?" Danny asked, not moving his hands. He'd save Jason either way but this would be easier if Jason worked with him.
"Fine." Jason spat and Danny smirked as his hands began to glow a toxic green that matched his eyes.
Ectoplasm pooled out of his hands and rushed into Jason, filling him until the boy glowed bright enough to rival the neon lights of the city around them. The green light flared around him like an aura, slowly shrinking but getting impossibly brighter as the glow centralized around his chest until a small glowing ball of green, like a trapped star, blazed from his chest.
Jason gasped, back arching as Danny pulled his hands away and the light vanished under Jason's skin. For a moment Jason's blue eyes burned green and his hair flashed snow white before returning to black, with one single lock of unearthly white left above his forehead. Jason collapsed back against his grave, chest heaving. Danny watched, eyes full of a sad understanding.
"What the fuck was that?" Jason panted out.
"Welcome to the world of the half alive, half dead." Danny said with a smile. "Want to get a burger and talk about it?" He asked, standing up and dusting off his hands.
"Make it a chili dog and you've got a deal."
~~~~~
Fixed some typos added some lines
Maybe I'll continue this AU. Maybe not. This scene was in my head for days and I wanted to share
#dc x dp#Clockwork:And the new Fright Knight is born#Danny said im going to adopt kids from cemetaries now its my thing#Clockwork thought Danny needed more friends so he located the teenager closest to Dannys age and most compatible to being a halfa#Dani: Does this make him my brother or an uncle or what?#Bruce isnt getting this one back#not for awhile anyways#Danny has to teach Jason the ways of the halfa#He gets Jason ghost guns and Jason is very content with that#also with all the fighting he gets to do because thats like how ghosts say hello#Jason also takes one look at Fright Knight's sword and says: I want that gimme#Fright Knight and Skulker take to Jason very quickly and enjoy training him#Jason and Skulker shootouts range half the ghost zone and Danny is just amused#Eventually Jason asks Danny if he wants to help him prank his family and Danny is 100% on board#the red hood arrives back in Gotham with 100% less heads in a dufflebag but 1000% more chaos#Jason and Danny legit haunt the mannor for a few months and convince everyone BUT Alfred theyre conventional ghosts#Danny also adopts Tim during this time because Bruce obviously cant take care of this neglected child and Danny said bet this is mine now#danny phantom#jason todd#batfam#dp x dc#danny phantom au#phantom au#danny phantom fic#The King and his Red Knight#The King and his Red Knight AU#TKAHRK AU#Red Knight AU
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
~ Caught VI ~
Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader
[masterlist][last part]
This is gonna be Christmas centered(gift giving and such)even though it’s almost Halloween😭🤷♀️thought it was cute.
I’m sorry if this is a bit long, I’m tryna get in some real plot with this chapter🤞🥰
Warnings: A Lil Angst(in the beginning), VeryFluffy,SweetSmut,Unprotected PinV, DaddyKink. Sex Toys Mentioned&Alludes to Bondage(future pt😉)
“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Mattheo asked in a hushed whisper as you pushed the heavy door of your manor’s library shut behind you both.
“I’m the only one who ever comes in here, they won’t even hear us talking all the way in the back.” You sighed out, the ball had just ended and your father had unsurprisingly pulled your mother into his study, likely to “brief” her on his plans.
“I know I should have told you ages ago and it was wrong of me to keep it from you….and all of our friends. But I just couldn’t, I couldn’t even form the words to tell you he was a Death Eater, let alone what he’s been planning since….he went into hiding.” Mattheo listened to your hushed words intently, wincing slightly at your mention of his father as you led him to a small leather loveseat in the far back corner of the large, dusty library.
“I knew I’d tell you eventually….I guess I just got so caught up in everything else that I never decided to try. Or maybe I was just too scared you’d never talk to me again. Honestly I don’t know.” You shook your head as you sat on the cold leather, Mattheo remained hovering, standing in front of you as you avoided his eyes.
“I had a half-brother, Will. He died before I was born in the First Wizarding War. My dad tried to run with his first wife, so his wife and son were killed. He married my mom for the money that marrying into my grandfather’s family promised, and then had me to make sure he got the inheritance.” You didn’t notice when you started crying or when Mattheo joined you on the seat to comfort you. The story was clear in your mind as though it happened to you, you grew up under your fathers hatred, and knew every small detail of his obsession.
Your father was one of very few people who knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Dark Lord did not die on Halloween of ‘81, and when he inevitably came back to power almost 3 years ago, it all was meant to fall into action. Your father played the dutiful follower as he weaseled his way into his inner circle. Your mother was to play the innocent housewife as she absorbed all information from the wives and husbands of the other Death Eaters. And you….you were to get their children to tell you anything they knew of their parents assignments. However, you threw a wrench in that plan before it even began, you’d never hurt your friends, and once you started dating Mattheo it was solidified.
And your father hated you for it.
It only took one year at Hogwarts for your love of your friends to overpower your love for your father. You fed him lies and misinformation or avoided home all together, but somehow could never come out and tell your friends why you introduced yourself to them in the first place. By the time you realized you should have, they were your new family, you couldn’t imagine them turning around and hating you just because of this mistake. So whether consciously or not you weren’t sure, but you hid it, for almost 6 years, you hid it. Even as your father approached his goal, even knowing all of their families would be caught in the crossfire when he succeeded.
“You don’t need to tell me it all tonight,” Mattheo whispered in a small voice nothing like his usual cocky tone. Your bloodshot eyes met his in a pleading look as you tried to speak.
“No I do, I….I should have told you years ago, I should have told all of you years ago.” Mattheo was a smart person, he’d already guessed what your role in this was, and considering him and his father were still very much alive, he also guessed you didn’t quite play the role you were given correctly. Despite the pit in his stomach about what he’s going to have to do to protect you, he was soaring over your loyalty. The fact that you were here in front of him, and not in your fathers study, had his heart hammering in his chest. If he hadn’t already planned to marry you, he certainly would have decided to right here.
“No Gorgeous, you really don’t….I think….I think I already know.” He sighed with a soft smile as he took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning you to look at him with your bloodshot, teary eyes. Mattheo delicately brought the thumb of his other hand to wipe your tears away, like you were a piece of art he was preserving. His lips followed suit, pampering light kisses down both your cheeks as he whisperered, “It’s okay y/n, I know and I’m still here, I’m always going to be here.”
Your body practically fell into him as you collapsed into sobs of gratitude and relief. Mattheo’s arms wrapped around you as though it was what they were made to do, pulling you into his lap as he settled into the loveseat further. He let you sob into his neck, brushing tangles from your hair with his fingers and speaking softly of your future together in your ear until you were silently breathing deeply and lightly snoring into him.
“You’re safe Baby, you’ll never have to come back here I promise you that.” Mattheo listened to your breathing deepen as you fell into a dreamless sleep in his arms, but continued to speak, “You’re the only part of this world that matters Darling,” He nuzzled his nose into your hair as his eyelids fell, content right here with you, “I will let it all burn just for you my beautiful Angel” He let out a deep sigh as though finally stripping himself of a great burden on his shoulders, “You’re all that matters to me,” His fingers curled into you hair deeper as his hand on your waist pulled your sleeping form in closer in a protective hold.
He stayed holding you for what felt like an eternity while so short at the same time before gently rising with you in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he maneuvered through the dusty bookshelves to the door. He found your room easily, he’d been there before as a child, you and the rest of the boys had spent practically all of Winter, Spring, and Summer Holiday your First Year there. He’d never understood why you’d never invited them again, but now he saw it clearly as a form of protection. Your father likely loved the idea of the sons of all of Voldemorts best followers, and his own son, coming around his manor with their guards down.
It was much different now, the large circular bed in front of the arched window was now covered in shades of red with black pillows instead of the purples he’d remembered from years ago. The vanity directly across the bed was new as well, it’s large mirror sparkled with the reflection of the stars behind the headboard of your bed as he placed you on it. He swore you looked like a princess, the color of your dress clashing with the bed only drawing his attention to you more while he retreated to remove your heels, struggling to unclip them before tossing them aside with a huff of annoyance.
You stirred slightly as he untied the strings on the back of your dress and began softly pulling it down. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it so just draped it across a fuzzy chair in the corner with a shrug before ridding himself of his tie, suit jacket, and pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as he crawled slowly onto the bed behind you, trying his hardest to let you sleep while attempting to get his shirt on over your arms. You woke up only for a second, allowing him to slip you into his shirt as you voiced your annoyance in a few grumbled sentences before slipping back into your dreams, snuggling into his scent and giving him a warm feeling in his chest.
He found it easy to fall into a dreamless sleep, something he was never used to until you were a constant in his life. Under your blankets surrounded by your scent, he felt safe, he felt you were safe, he pulled you into his chest with a content sigh. He’d been waiting weeks to sleep beside you again, and he didn’t plan to be sleeping alone anytime soon.
The next morning Mattheo woke you with kisses to your neck and face, allowing you to adjust to the early morning light before ushering you to get dressed and ready to go. “We’re going back to Hogwarts….or anywhere you want…” Just not here, he thought, wanting more than anything to have you out of this house before your father even realized he planned to.
Repacking your trunk was much faster with Mattheo grabbing things and throwing them in before yanking it up and escorting you out of your own house. Before you recognized what was happening you were being Apparated to right outside the Hogwarts grounds and tugged through a tunnel you had no idea existed.
“Matty what is this?” The tunnel was cramped, barley enough space for the both of you as he guided you around as though he’d been there before.
“It’s a tunnel he made when he went here, not even Harry or the Weasleys know about it so we’ll be safe in here while we get back to the castle.” You didn’t need to ask who he meant by he and you definitely didn’t need to ask why he seemed to know it like the back of his hand.
“Oh” Your voice was small and meek as you started to realize he was keeping things from you too, you didn’t know whether to feel relieved that you weren’t the only one keeping secrets or worried about what he felt was too dangerous to inform you about. You knew he had unavoidable meetings with his father, you knew he had to do things to stay alive and you didn’t blame him, but it hurt you to think about the fact that you’d never really thought about what must be happening.
You’d seen his scars and fresh wounds every month, but he’d always say he had it under control and for some reason you always listened. A part if you wanted to know everything right then, while the other, much larger part, was wishing you’d run away with Mattheo when you had the chance.
After what felt like hours you emerged from behind a statue in a dimly lit corridor somewhere in the dungeons. Mattheo took your hand like it was second nature, allowing your trunk to float along behind him while escorting you to his dorm. The corridors were empty and cold, most of the remaining student body gone on holiday, the castle that used to bring comfort to generations of young witches and wizards, now held a lingering sense of danger, like something wrong was hiding just behind the corner.
And as you watched Mattheo’s focused eyes, clenched jaw, and possessive hand, you thought there just might be.
~~~~
Christmas at Hogwarts was always worth looking forward to, it gave even the most damaged of us a chance to let loose. But as you looked around the Slytherin Common room, realizing it was almost midnight on December 24th and not a single person seemed to care, you decided that just for the next 24 hours, there wasn’t a single thing wrong. You would tell everyone the truth on the 26th and everything would be okay. You were sure of it.
Even if it was just you and Mattheo, you were celebrating Christmas like you did every year. Huddled up in the boys dorm, drinking spiked hot chocolate, fighting over the best Christmas songs, and giving each other presents.
Mattheo wasn’t shocked to see you sauntering through his door with a bottle of firewhiskey and wrapped boxes as you had for the past 5 years. His heart sank slightly as he watched your eyes swivel around the un-decorated and empty dorm room.
“Wh-,” They had decorated their dorm room every year, at first it started with you bringing them little ornaments from a village by your manor your first Christmas together. By your second Christmas, Mattheo took it upon himself to buy a miniature Christmas tree. A memory you could never forget, a chilly December evening organizing only 5 ornaments along it. Arguing slightly all the way until Mattheo told the boys to just listen to you. It was one of the first moments you even realized you liked the curly headed boy.
From that year on, every member of the friend group was ensured to get at least one gift, a new ornament for the dorm tree. Which was still stuffed in it’s box under Mattheo’s nightstand. Mattheo followed your eyes to it and sighed, “I’m sorry Baby, I completely forgot to decorate this year and all the boys got an owl to come home so I did-“
“It’s okay Matty,” You gave him a soft smile as you set your bottle and packages on his bed and took your seat beside them.
“I’ll set it up now and we can decorate it together, Enzo and Blaise left some gifts behind so w-“ He stopped abruptly as you flopped backward further onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh.
“What a shame, all of your dorm mates gone and no way to be caught in the act, the horror,” You giggled slightly as your sarcasm began to settle in his mind and a smile tugged on his lip.
“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love when we’re almost caught, I can feel how you clench around me Princess,” He stalked towards you as he leant himself against the bedposts at the end of the frame, eyeing the way you bit back a laugh and sat yourself up on your elbows.
“Okay Mr. “Scream My Name,” Your voice held an unusual mix of teasing and dominance that Mattheo wasn’t quite used to as you swayed your leg and watched while his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.
“Mmm, don’t tempt me Princess. I wanted to open presents first.” He faked a pout, watching your skirt slide up your moving thigh as your fingers moved to slowly unbutton your shirt.
“Am I not a present fit to be unwrapped Mr.Riddle?” You teased as you licked across you teeth and played at the second button on your shirt. Mattheo groaned from deep in his chest as his head fell backwards, his jaw clenched as he tried to collect himself.
“Baby, I have a plan and if you call me that again you’re gonna miss out. You don’t wanna miss out do you Gorgeous?” His eyes met yours, the dark spark you knew meant he was in control having you bite at your smile and shake your head, still slightly playing with the buttons on your shirt.
“Good girl, now come here,” Mattheo suddenly pushed off the bedposts and motioned for you to follow with a wiggle of two of his fingers.
“I thought I’d have to give these to you late but since you’re here,” Mattheo sighed happily as he pulled out a trunk from under his bed, “Sit on the edge….now.” You were slightly confused but after a second followed his orders, swaying your feet and waiting patiently as he unlocked the trunk with two loud clicks.
“Your first set,” You narrowed your eyes at him as he set two neatly wrapped black boxes beside you, both tied with a red bow. “First….set?” Mattheo only nodded his head with a happy little smile before urging you to open them with his outstretched hands. The first and smallest was expected, a delicate glass snowflake ornament hanging from a silver ribbon.
“Perfect, I can hang it on the tree when it’s set up,” You said happily as you gently set it back in it’s box, “Actually that’s gonna be the first to go on our tree.” Mattheo interjected, making you giggle up at him before realizing he was entirely serious.
“It may collect some dust while I find the perfect cottage for you,” He said with a wave of his hands, “but that’s the first place it’s going, nowhere else”
“Okay Matty, it’s decided,” You laughed as you grabbed at your, significantly less neat, golden wrapped package. Mattheo’s hand dramatically shot to his chest as his mouth dropped open, “For me?” he gasped sarcastically, ripping it from your hands as he opened it.
“Oh fuck Baby, is this the one we saw in Diagon Alley?” Mattheo’s voice was filled with excitement you rarely got to hear as he pulled out the thick silver ring with a snake tangled around the front. He haphazardly shoved it on each of his fingers before ultimately settling on his right pointer finger.
“How does it look Gorgeous?” He held up his pointer and middle finger, letting the others fall beside them as he watched you bite at your lip. “Can’t wait to find out what it’ll look like halfway inside of you…mm” He seemed to be in his own world as he eyed the ring, fitting perfectly with the other two he already wore on that hand, before shaking his head slightly, “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, your turn again.”
You shook your head, blinking rapidly with a shocked smile before reaching for the next box, his eyes lighting up to follow as though he’d just remembered what was hidden behind the wrapping paper. It was was longer and thinner than the last box, opening on a hinge to reveal a golden necklace with a heart shaped ruby dangling in the middle.
“Gods Matty….” You whispered, feeling across the necklace delicately with your fingertips. “It’s beautiful,”
“Can I put it on for you Princess?” Mattheo asked as he crawled on the bed around you, reaching for the necklace before you could answer. Clasping it quickly and leaving a kiss on the base of your neck, whispering with a confident smirk, “It has my initials carved in the middle of the heart.”
You chuckled as you felt at the pendent hanging between your collarbones, grabbing at the next package while Mattheo began kissing up and down the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fanned against your cold skin. You turned in his arms, handing him his hext gift with a smile. “And here’s your ornament,” Mattheo gasped as though he was offended, snatching the package mumbling, “Don’t ruin my surprise Baby,”
“I get you one every year, besides you don’t know what’s on it, now open it,” He huffed while ripping at the messily placed tape, halting slightly, staring down at a handmade ornament in the shape of a gingerbread house. A moving picture of you and him from almost two years ago sat where the door would have been, a picture that was taken only days after he realized he was madly in love with you, something he wasn’t sure you knew. Making it ten times better.
“I’ve changed my mind, your snowflake will be the second ornament on our tree.” His gaze met yours as a smile grew on his face, laughing while gently placing it into it’s box and leaning back to set it on his nightstand. “I wanna open my last one before you get more.”
Mattheo’s voice was stern and matter of factly, taking his last present from beside you as you nervously chewed the insides of your cheek. He wasted no time ripping into it, looking between you and the box as his brows bunched together, delicately pulling out a silk red tie, “Now, no offense Darling, but red isn’t really my color,”
“No….but it is mine.” Mattheo watched as you bit your lip before looking back at the box, realization settling in as he clutched the tie hard in his hand, closing his eyes as he groaned slightly.
“You know they say great minds think alike….” He spoke after a second of gathering himself, kissing your cheek before slipping off the bed and reaching back into the trunk, retreating with two larger wrapped boxes.
“This one first,” He all but shoved the box at you, watching you intently as he bounced in front of you. You slowly unwrapped the box, delicately removing each piece of tape as Mattheo narrowed his eyes at you threateningly. “I’m gonna open it myself if you don’t hurry up.”
“Okay okay” You giggled, tearing through the rest of the paper and throwing off the lid of a deep red box. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down at its contents, a black blindfold neatly wrapped around a set of fuzzy handcuffs, a vibrator, and a collar on a chain. Your face burned as you looked up to a now very nervous Mattheo.
“Is it too much? Do you not like the idea? We can just move on to the next one if-“ He rambled as you looked up at him with a smile, reaching into the box as he spoke.
“Is this a remote Mattheo?” You asked teasingly, biting your lip at Mattheo’s sigh of relief from your demeanor. “Hell yeah it is Baby, that’s more for me though,” He was immediately back to his regular cocky self as he snatched the remote and slipped it into his pocket.
“Saved the best for last.” Mattheo sighed, handing you the largest of the four and watching you intently. He knew exactly which would he your favorite, and knew exactly which one to save for last. You smiled brightly up to him as you pulled out the red, loose weight thigh length dress from it’s box.
“Matty! I love it, thank you,” You practically screamed as you jumped up to hug him, laughing as he lifted you up by your waist. He chuckled in your ear, wrapping your legs around him, pulling you back to look at your face.
“Anything for you Gorgeous,” He said breathlessly as he smashed his lips into yours in a passionate kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs while his tongue began exploring your mouth immediately.
“Fucking hell I love you, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me ya know that,” He growled, kissing down your neck, nipping at it aggressively as he mindlessly cleared the bed of presents, papers, and boxes before laying you down softly and crawling up your body to meet your lips again. Mattheo quickly rid himself of his shirt, pulling at yours as you slid your skirt and panties off, Mattheo cursed as he jumped from the bed to shove his sweats and boxers off. Tripping over them in a rush to join you back on the bed, falling on you slightly as you fell into a fit of laughter.
“Yeah yeah whatever, come here,” He huffed, pulling your face in to an aggressive kiss. He nipped at your lips and battled your tongue with his, your teeth knocking together as you breathed heavily into each other’s mouths. His hands trailed slowly down your sides, stopping at your hips to tug you forward, plowing into without warning, a whine of a moan fell from you as Mattheo sighed and fell into you, holding himself up on his forearms as he began softly fucking into you.
Mattheo’s lips trailed along your shoulder, stoping only to moan as you circled your hips to his slow thrusts. Your fingers found themselves tangled his hair, tugging slightly as the others trailed down his toned back with a teasing scratch. He groaned in your ear, picking up his pace only slightly as he rocked his hips into yours. He lifted his head to meet your eyes as you clenched around him, steadying himself with a hand on your hip, increasing his pace further as he watched your head fall back with a moan of appreciation.
Mattheo felt himself twitch inside you as your nails dug into his back and tugged at his hair, he wasn’t gonna last long after not having you for weeks, but he wanted you to come first. He slowed himself down to an agonizingly slow pace as you whined under him, he balanced himself on a hand beside your head as he brushed his free hand from your hip down your thigh before suddenly bringing it to rush fast circles onto your clit. Picking up his pace and falling back into your neck, licking a stripe from the base of your neck to your ear, whisperering against it’s shell as you shivered, “You like that Princess? Do you like being fucked after I spoil you?”
All you could do to respond was nod weakly as he groaned against your bruised neck, “Do you like it when Daddy treats you like a Princess?” For a second Mattheo stalled, as though he didn’t mean to let the name slip, but quickly picked up his pace as you wiggled below him with a whine of “Yes”
He looked down at you with a wild, daring smile as his eyes darkened further, “Yes what?” He growled, thrusting into you harder as you tried to speak, jumbling your words as you began to lose focus.
“Daddy, ye- Oh fuck, Yes Dadd-“ Mattheo cut you off with a wicked smile as he ruthlessly pounded into you, you were shaking with the bed as his thrusts became irregular and his fingers slowed. Your head felt dizzy as you clamped around him, feeling his cum spill inside you sending you over the edge as you screamed his name.
You came together as Mattheo collapsed on top of you. “That’s much better than our past Christmas traditions,” You sighed in a breathless voice as Mattheo’s arms snaked around your naked waist, cuddling you into him while still inside.
“I love you, and I plan to spend every Christmas I have left with you,” Mattheo whispered in a suddenly very serious tone.
~~~~
Caught VII
I hope this Isn’t weird or anything because I absolutely love it🥰🥰
-HP Taglist-
@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess
#mattheo riddle x fem!reader#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo x y/n#mattheoxreader#harry potter#harry potter smut#mattheo riddle x reader#smut#hp#fluff#harry potter fandom#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle angst#mattheo riddle#mattheo x you#mattheo riddle x you#secret relationship#mattheo riddle fanfic#smut and fluff#fluffy#fluffy smut
560 notes
·
View notes
Text
Camera Ready ✧･ﾟ: Finnick Odair x reader
Summary: Neither of you really care if anyone sees.
Warning: exhibitism, voyeurism, p n v, riding, they fuck in the arena while it’s being televised, spit kink, size kink, creampie, switch ! Finnick, switch! Reader
⭒
“You know you could walk a little slower, sweetness. ”
Finnick’s voice blares out teasingly into the morning air as he trails behind you. Your hair sticks to your forehead in sweaty strands, your body on high alert as you make sure to scope out any remaining candidates that aren’t on your side. Which isn’t much, considering you have Katniss and the others, but it’s still a good idea to be cautious. To your relief you had found Finnick in the woods last night. And as much of a victor as you are, the dark makes you nervous. So he had allowed you to sleep beside him, curled up with his arms wrapped around you. It wasn’t intentional, of course, but when he sleeps it seems that he tends to get handsy. And when the warmth of his body was beside you, you couldn’t resist letting him throw you into his embrace.
“Maybe you could walk a little faster, pretty boy.”
He chuckles at the nickname, his pace finally catching up with you so you can see the cocky smile on his face.
“You think I’m pretty?”
Your friendship is like this, a lot. Flirtation, playful banter, and a few hook ups every now and then since the two of you met at a capital event one year. And now, even when you’re supposed to be enemies, you’re working together. It’s just a connection, an order that makes you both flow freely with each other and get the things you desire.
You ignore the way Finnick’s hands ignite flames on your skin and the way his smile makes your heart flourish. You also ignore the way you feel the constant need to protect him and keep him alive. In this game, you can’t have anything serious.
“Mm..” you reply. “Sometimes.”
Your hands wrap around his neck as you pull him to you. He smiles, that pretty crooked smile, and presses a kiss to your temple.
And then, you hear a snap.
You and Finnick are both on high alert then, and turning around you’re both faced with a victor. Not an ally, it seems, as she’s pointing a knife at the both of you.
It doesn’t take long before she’s dead, but it’s still a bother to you. You don’t like murdering these people, and you’ve never liked the whole idea or subject of the hunger games. The first time you had won, but at what cost when they’ve sent you right back in?
It’s kill or be killed. And as the woman’s blood splatters on your face, you sense that familiar feeling of rage from the first time you killed creeping back into your psyche. That rage that loathes the capital, loathes those stupid fucking districts as they fall into the ground. And your knife doesn’t stop the assault on her as you make sure she’s dead. It’s better, this way, to overdo it so they don’t have to suffer. Finnick is surprised at your strength and skill, he always has been, but he finds it best not to bring it to attention.
As you two walk away, the woods begins to clear. And then you both watch as you see the Arena come into view, dark and blood soaked.
“Great,” you mutter. “More to show the people.”
It’s obvious that everything is being recorded, but this is the most clear spot. As you sit down on one of the rock formations, your lean back to watch the clouds and the orange sunset. Finnick sits beside you, his neck and chest splattered with blood. And after a moment, you begin to speak.
“I don’t like doing this.” You state. “It’s all bullshit. It’s psychotic.”
Finnick nods in agreement, his jaw clenched as he watches the stains on your shirt.
“We should give them a show.” He says. “Do something that we know they can’t get away from.”
And that’s when you get the idea.
You look at him, a mere glance. You’re both probably sweaty and disgusting, but even now Finnick looks absolutely god like. You know he’s chiseled, under that gray suit. And you know what big thing lies underneath the crotch of his underwear.
You smile, your hand coming to rest gently on his muscled thigh. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he watches your palm begin to move up more.
“What are you doing?” He asks. He doesn’t seem completely against the idea, though. Because then that cocky smirk you know so good and well is plastered onto his face, his hands finding there way to the exposed skin of your shoulder. He leans over and kisses your collarbone, gently. You huff, your lips moving to graze the spot below his ear.
“If they want them a show, let’s give them a show.”
Seeming to be on the same page, Finnick crashes his lips into yours in a bruising kiss.
Meanwhile, at the capital, the monitors in the room begin to awkwardly watch as you push Finnick down onto the rocky arm. His back hits the floor with a grunt, and then he’s watching as you sit up and unzip the back of your suit. He groans when your tits are revealed to them, full and sitting in all their glory. He brings his hands up and gropes one in his hand, feels the soft skin and your pert nipples being brought to attention. You tut when he tries to move his fingers down to your pussy.
“No, Finn.” You coo. Your nails scratch his addam’s apple, and he flushes as you begin to climb on top of him. “No touching there until I say.”
He groans when you press down against his growing bulge.
“You know if we don’t hurry we could die, right?” He huffs.
“I don’t want to hear excuses, baby. We both know fucking me again is the last thing you want to do before you go.”
He can’t deny that, and as you demand that he lift himself up and unzip his suit down to his thighs, he follows your directions with desperation. You watch as you pull his briefs down below his balls, watch as his girthy length springs to full attention. He moans when your hand connects to his skin, and begins to jerk him off with vigor. You can feel a tension in the air, the feeling of being watched extremely prominent. And it shouldn’t get you so wet, but it does. So you bring yourself to eye level with Finnick’s cock, and spit down on him, quick to shove his tip into the warm confines of your mouth. He makes a deep sound in his throat, and you move away teasingly when his hips try and move his cock farther into your throat.
“C’mon, sugar.” He says, overwhelmed. “Don’t be mean.”
“Why don’t you just shut up and do what I say, Odair?” You demand. You slap his cock, and he groans, legs beginning to tremble at the pain and pleasure mixing. “Besides, I’m not letting you use my mouth right now. I just needed to get you wet.”
He whines in protest when you pull away from him. But then you’re pushing your suit down, past your calfs and onto the ground.
So help you, if you’re going to die it’s going to be like this.
When your pussy is revealed to him, Finnick’s cock jumps and he sits up to guide you to his lap. He’s warm, his cock drooling and messy. You don’t hesitate to rub his tip against your clit, your thighs holding his lean body down.
“Please, y/n, fuck!” Finnick stutters, the feeling of your wet silky cunt making him go crazy.
You smile as you finally guide him to your entrance, and sink down. His cock fills you up to impossible levels, his balls pressed flush against you when he finally bottoms out. His hands go to your waist, and when you bounce on him, his eyes roll back and he cries out like a bitch in heat.
“Jesus Christ.. you feel so fuckin’ good, angel. Love your pussy so much.”
“I know, sweet boy.” You moan when he grazes a soft spot inside you. “It f-feels good, doesn’t it? My little pussy feel good around that big cock?”
“God, yes. Cmon, ride me harder, momma. I know you can.”
And when you begin to fuck him faster, he brings his hands down to your ass, and begins bucking up into you with a feral pace. Your arousal makes him keen, makes his brain turn to mush the moment your scent hits him. You look so beautiful, so flushed and perfect, and something snaps inside of Finnick, then. His fingers spread your cheeks apart, and his voice is raw.
“Bet you like this, huh? The whole capital watching you get fuckin’ destroyed by my big cock? Hm?”
You gasp at his words, your fingers clawing at his chest.
“Finn, baby, fuck!”
“You love it, don’t you?”
No reply. Finnick slaps your ass harshly, and you yelp at the sting. His hands grab your throat in a harsh grip.
“Answer me!” He demands. You cry out, trying to nod the best you can, and then uttering out a “Yes! Yes sir!” As his large hands cut off your air supply.
“That’s my fuckin girl.” He replies. His fingers rub your clit, leaving your throat as you gasp for air and your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy gushes all over him, soaking his cock and balls and the rock below the both of you, and without warning Finnick is grabbing your hips with his large hands and turning you over so you’re beneath him. It’s quick, and you’re incredibly surprised. You wrap your legs around him as he begins to pummel you, now with more leverage and strength, and his cock feels like it’s destroying you from the inside out. You don’t complain, though. And when Finnick’s hips begin stuttering, you know he’s about to cum.
“C’mon, baby, cum inside me, cum in my pussy!”
Your words spur him on, makes him leave bruising marks on your wrists as he holds them above your head and begins to cum in thick, messy ropes. Your walls practically milk him of everything he’s got, and when he’s done you can feel the stickiness of his seed dripping off his cock and onto your thighs.
He buries his face in your neck, then. And with a small laugh, he pulls himself out and begins to lick his cum out of you. Your middle finger comes up into the air as he does it. A sign, as the victor from district 4 eats your pussy. A big ‘fuck you’ to the capital.
The cameramen and people at home watch in shock and awe. There’s a debate of whether or not they should turn it off, and after a while everyone becomes too distracted by the images on screen to worry about it. The next day, none of the other tributes look at you both the same.
Because at that time, they had been watching, too.
@emsbookcase
#finnick odair#Finnick Odair x reader#Finnick Odair x fem! reader#Finnick Odair smut#switch! Finnick Odair#sub! Finnick Odair#dom! Finnick Odair#switch! reader#sub! reader#dom! reader#the hunger games#the hunger games catching fire#the hunger games mockingjay pt1#the hunger games mockingjay pt2#the hunger games fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
roroc
Juicy: A Burst of Flava
elliemillah
olivia colman slapped my arm
bazelhead
I'm outta here
2tsuki-12
Art, Smiles, and Chaos
thesportssoundoff
The Sports Sound Off 2.0