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rustedhearts · 4 months

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my funny valentine (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: the hand-written evidence of an affair between high school sweethearts, displaced and reunited after war.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the library

♡ the record store

tags: “darling” used as reader insert name; infidelity; mention of war/violence; darling + steve are 35 at the time these letters are written. the time skip signifies lost letters (as they might, in actuality, get lost over the years)

"you make me smile with my heart...stay little valentine, please stay. each day is valentine's day."

— my funny valentine, ella fitzgerald

May 22nd, 1961

My Darling,

Please excuse this intrusion….I got your address from a neighbor. It was so lovely to see you today. I just couldn’t stand the thought of going one more moment without speaking more to you.

I couldn’t believe you thought me lost to you. Though, I cannot blame you for this train of thought. I was gone so long. It was silly to believe you would have waited all your life. Two years was long enough….I don’t blame you for moving on. But did you need to move to London? My Darling, it’s so far from home. I can excuse the new husband given my absence and its circumstance, but the distance will not do.

Nevertheless, I’m rambling. What I truly wanted to say, what I have longed to say since I boarded that train, and what I have wanted to say all day since seeing you on that wet little park bench in your fur coat….I still love you with all my heart. Is there any chance you still love me, too?

Yours,

Steve Harrington

May 24th, 1961

Sweet Steve,

Of course I still love you. You can imagine how confusing a feeling this is to me. Given the circumstance of a loving, successful husband found after such a long mourning period in which I now ponder the merit of….how could I still love you? It goes against all good graces which that of Almighty God intends for me.

But it doesn’t change the way my heart soars for you. The way it did when I saw you approach from across the pond in that tattered coat you’re still clinging to. Your hair is longer. I find it handsome.

I feel a sting of wrongdoing course through me as I etch these words down. Though I love you, Steve, we must not continue to write. Please tell me once what you endured, and then never more. I must have the answers I went so long without. I am allowing myself this selfishness.

However, when the tale is done, I cannot allow myself the selfishness of going on. My life has altered greatly since our time together, and my duties and responsibilities now lie elsewhere. I hope you can understand.

Sincerely,

Darling

May 30th, 1961

Darling girl,

I will begin first by disregarding the words that pierced me so. I will find it difficult to post this letter and think of it as the last of mine that you will ever read. Perhaps, by the end of it, you will have changed your mind.

When I left for Germany, it was as though we were thrown to the wolves. Peril and anguish and torment were all we knew. Myself, the men boys I fought with. We were all so young. Eighteen, twenty, the youngest seventeen. I cannot explain to you the horror of watching a young man’s arm blown off.

But you do not want to hear this. You want to hear of matters obtaining to you, of course. Answers you asked for and answers you shall retain. You’ve waited long enough.

When I returned to America two months after D-Day, I was bodily unscathed but no longer the man you knew. I found myself bound to fits of emotional and physical violence. Days of hysteria and madness that alarmed even my hostess. I was in no fit state to see you. I was, as well, thousands of miles away in California. So, when we were told to board for our way home, I did not go.

California was far enough that you could not find me and the man I had become.

My Darling, I wish I had sweeter excuses than these. I wish I could scrawl something of manly note, but…I owe you honesty. This, my sweet dear, is the honest truth. I was a hollow shell of the man you once knew. And I was afraid to return home to you.

Time in California fell like a whirlpool. A year had passed, and then two. By the time I had some handle on my fits, had worked through my madness and set home for you, you were gone. Your mother said ‘off to London,‘ and with a new beau to accompany you. A husband.

Something I was supposed to be.

Where I failed, I suppose he thrived. I hope you are happy, sweet girl.

Please, feel obliged to reply.

Yours still,

Steve

June 12th, 1961

Steve,

You always knew just how to sweeten the bitterness of goodbye. So much sweetness that I grow too sick to move through with it. Alas, that is why I’ve picked up my pen to write again. Curse you, Steve Harrington. You have such hold over me.

Now, I think it only right that I answer the questions you have not asked, but that I know you are curious of. Reggie is my husband, and we met two summers after the end of the war. I went so long pale and sick with grief, thinking I lost you to Heaven. I had come to terms with this, buried any idea that you might come home.

Reggie was a businessman, in town for dealings. He hails from London, which is the swift explanation for my immigration here. Our love was quick and easy, and when he asked me to marry him on our fifth date, I had no reason not to say yes. You were, in the mind of a young girl engaged to a soldier that did not come home, gone. There was no vow or promise being broken.

I would, however, be breaking all promises of honesty under God if I were to say I have not thought of you in these past years.

I feel an indescribable ache for your suffering, and all the suffering of young men in a similar state to yours. I take your words as oath, as I promised to do so many years ago...which is why I can assure that my heart weeps for you so. Not just for your suffering, but for your company. I think it always might.

Might we allow ourselves one more act of selfishness? An act in the park, Sunday afternoon?

Please return soon.

Darling

June 14th, 1961 Darling,

I would be happy to oblige you in the park on Sunday. Will 2:00 do? Though, you were always an admirer of early morning strolls. Perhaps 10? You always did love a bird call.

Every post from you makes my heart soar, Darling. Did you know? The prospect of keeping your company for even a few hours has me yearning for a busy week, if only to keep the impatience at bay. I meant it truly when I wished your happiness. Fondly, Steve

June 15th, 1961

Steve,

Yes, 10:00 will do. I will be there, wearing my fur coat.

Eagerly awaiting,

Darling

June 20th, 1961 My Darling, Oh I cannot scrub my mind free of this torment. Our act of selfishness I knew to be tempting, but now I am delirious. If I thought my need for you was strong before, it is insufferably so now. You were so beautiful in your coat, in your plum dress. The color compliments your skin so well. I have not seen your eyes that closely in years. Only in photographs, that I horde and selfishly admire in the depths of dark nights, have I seen those eyes of late. And now here they were, staring up at me. With such blatant love as they did once before. Yes, my Darling, I saw all of it there. Are we to go on lying to ourselves, saying we're better off? Our time has passed, it has been so long, yes. Yes, I know it. But I know also that I cannot go another day without making up for the time lost between. Darling girl, please be selfish with me. Please live our days selfishly for as long as we might have. Yours, Steve

June 22nd, 1961

Steve,

I pride myself for honesty, so I will satisfy you with my brief agreement. My heart thumped so wildly in the park on Sunday that I thought it might break free from my body. Would you catch it in your hands if it had? Would you crush it? Oh, Steve, it has always belonged to your hands. The love you detected was not an illusion. It never died, not even across the sea.

Yet, what of Reggie? I love him dearly, as well, though maybe never quite like I did you. He is, nevertheless, my husband. We have grown to live such a wonderful life. And yes, we cannot have children, but we are finding ways to fill this void. The void will only grow, I fear, if I continue to be selfish with you. I will find new gaps and black holes in our life together, and I cannot be unhappy in a marriage that is sufficiently content.

Please do not ask this of me. My heart cannot bear to say no.

Yours,

Darling

June 24th, 1961 Darling, I know you are frightened, but might our love be stronger than this fear? Please do not deny me, I might break entirely apart. Do you not see the predicament we are in? To lose so many years, yet find each other in a completely different part of the world from where we were born. Is it not an act of God stringing us together again? One night, my sweet Darling. If not an eternity as we once intended, one night will suffice. Please do not say no. Yours waiting, Steve

June 27th, 1961

Sweet Steve,

I have been awake for days, ailing over your proposal. Know I do not intend to make any decision without a full realization of every consequence. To deny you would leave me with an ache like no other forever plagued on my heart. To accept, I would part ways with the very peace of mind that my marriage is pure of all faults as it is now, and was before you.

Attach the address of your hotel.

Yours,

Darling

June 29th, 1961 Oh my Darling, I believe I read over your words so frequently and at such a swift pace that my eyes are still sore. Attached is the address of my stay, and know I will be waiting no matter the hour. Come as you please, whenever you wish. I will be at the door. To hold you in my arms again is all I can live for in the hours between. Yours, Steve

July 3rd, 1961

Steve,

The loveliest of nights has passed between us, and yet I feel sick with the wrongness of our sheer audacity. Entangled in your arms, wrapped in those cotton sheets just feeling your breath and your flesh as it always was...I cannot think of a better mercy. For our suffering, for our loss. But will I obtain God's forgiveness when the day is to come? For what I have done to Reggie, I think this always a stain on my conscience.

Yet, some sort of delirium has come over me since that night. I seem incapable of clear thinking. If it is stained, let it be stained.

Please write to the attached P.O box from now on. I cannot risk interception, but I cannot risk a silence from you.

My darling Steve, will you stay?

Yours entirely,

Darling

July 5th, 1961 Darling, You cannot fathom how long I have waited to hear these words. Yes, I will stay. Yes, I will be yours, if you shall be mine. The hours allowed to us are the brightest of my days. I will find permanent residence somewhere in traveling distance so long as it allows me proximity to your love. Please come soon. I miss you terribly. Love, Steve

September 19th, 1961 Darling, You were upset last we parted, and my wish to quell your ailing grows stronger by the hour. I have grown to know your marriage and your Reggie as you have told, and I know now he cannot make you happy. I could make you happy, delightfully happy. The children you have always wanted are in our future, I know this is true. Please, change your mind and say yes, and we can have it. The future you crave, the future you deserve. Adventure, and intrigue, and passion that he cannot fathom. I have stared into the depths of your soul, and have bared all parts of my own. Can you say the same of him? Please, my Darling girl. I only think of you. Yours, Steve

September 22nd, 1961

Steve,

It is with aching eyes and a sore, sinking heart that I have prepared this for you. Know the walk to post it felt like a march to the death. In some way, this is death. Part of me, sealed away by your sweet kisses, and tender touches, and all those long hours whispering secrets in the dark. Part of me will always live in these moments, and that part of me has died.

I cannot leave Reggie, and your request of such leaves nowhere for our selfishness to go. We must not go on like this. Not if we are to live full and fulfilling lives without secret and pain. It is too much for one heart to bear. Were we to go on, it would kill me entirely. I must sacrifice a small part to save the whole. Oh, my love, I hope you understand. I hope you can forgive me.

Yours, now and always,

Darling

#rolly!#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington au #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader

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bhxrdy · 1 year

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unspoken words | finan

author's note: it's been a while, but after watching the last kingdom, had to jump on the wagon :) this one is a bit long - it was difficult to figure out where to trim it down, so hopefully it won't bore you. To whoever reads it, i hope you enjoy this little concoction. Lots of love & stay safe 💕

She was lost in the thick of it. Mud, sweat and blood were pouring left and right as she injured and maimed every body that reached her across the battlefield.

She was a good fighter, a warrior in her own right. Not only could her quiet demeanour send chills down a man’s spine, but her presence during battle were songs to write about.

She wore the name of a god - given to her - even though she was not part of their world. Saxons claimed she was the devil incarnate, while Danes thought her a witch, or worse, a malevolent spirit roaming the earth to haunt, hunt and kill them all.

To the sight of the strangers that crossed her path, they would scurry away while praying to their gods to protect them, to shield them from her evil presence. She couldn’t care. The soil she spent years marching on had no emotional ties to her body - well, almost.

She was far away from what she once used to know. Space and time had created a convoluted way of separating her from her old life.

And so, here she was. In a war zone, fighting for her life and for the lives of the men she grew accustomed to. She was fighting for their survival, to aid them in their endeavour.

He might have feared her when they met. The way her eyes first laid on him had sent shivers down to his bone - he had grasped onto his little crucifix, reciting a quiet prayer out of fright and distrust.

And then, with the time they shared together, with the moments they spent, she became something else entirely. Whenever he would catch himself looking at her, staring at her, intrigue came and made his initial feelings obsolete. She became a mystery he wanted to resolve, an enigmatic and mystical being overpowering his logical senses in exchange for timid devotion, and then, tumultuous desire.

She was made of steel, it was as clear as day. Her body carried her through bruises and sickness. She was a shield herself; her skin, her hair, her eyes, as well her weapons, protected her from the insanity she had been dragged into. Her knowledge of the human anatomy, of Mother Nature and her gifts, her combat skills, her agility and flexibility were a driving force.

Qualities that left his heart rendering to endless possibilities, good and bad.

The worse, the greater the grief; while in battle, he always knew where she stood. She was easy to find. There weren’t many women who could terrorize men twice their size. And yet, today, he had lost her in the crowd.

Anxious, panicked, he yelled for her name while swords were clashing against the enemy. While he still fought, his mind wandered to what could have happened. “Freya!”

Though his accent was strong and though his voice was loud, the grunts and yells from soldiers and warriors alike were louder, and louder. It was to such strength, ears could be beaten to deaf.

His heart raced not only from war, but from uncertainty and it drove him wild. Drumming away between his ears, he was scared. He was terrified. He was getting enraged. It couldn’t be that she had fallen, that the enemy had taken her, sweeping her life off this ground.

He kept calling for her, his voice trying to echo across the massacred field. It strained him - his anxiety creeping through as his world slowed down, almost to a halt. He could feel it in the back of his throat. His voice cracking as the worse played itself in front of him, blinding him from reality.

She was nowhere to be seen and nowhere to be heard.

She was down against the grass, her body bathing in mud and blood, the stench of dead bodies suffocating her.

She could always take men that were bigger than her - it was cocky to think that way, but she knew herself too well.

And it almost killed her.

In the middle of it all, she thought she had slain yet another opponent, cutting him frontward, backwards and then down to his legs, forcing him to fall. But instead of crashing to the ground, he was back up on his feet. She had already turned around, ready to fight the next big Dane, but unfortunately, she was pushed on her back.

The stranger grabbed her from her collar, holding her from behind and yanked her down, her back hitting the rough ground with brutal force. The gesture cut off her breath from her lungs. It left her disoriented for a moment until she saw his axe swinging her way.

She caught the weapon with the head of the blade resting between her hands, as they touched its shoulder. She could feel the edge pushing down on her face, the sharp end tickling her skin. With all her might, she tried to push it away - if the cost were her fingers, then so be it. She just had to get out.

The maniacal laugh he was emanating gave her the strength she needed to push him out. She used her legs to kick him off her; one to the knee, the other straight between his legs. By shock, he dropped the weapon and with its loosened grip, she was able to hold it steady and position it to her advantage.

It was still a tough fight.

Once she was able to get back on her feet, she got hit right in the face. She felt her nose take a hit as it cracked; blood was dripping down to her chin.

It was hearing his voice calling out for her that distracted her.

She could sense the desperation in the tone and it tore her apart.

She had to survive. She wanted to survive - for him. She whispered his name between her own lips, not able to gather the energy to call out for him.

She needed him, and the slow realization left her begging for his help with no way of speaking up.

The hit to the nose resonated to her head, adding to the pounding headache she was already carrying from falling on the ground.

She could barely make any sense of what was happening anymore. It was only when a sharp pain throbbed across her body that it woke her up.

Her opponent had caught her again. He nicked her neck with a dagger; a step closer and she would’ve been gone.

She punched him across the face, hoping to phase him enough that she could pick up her sword and ram it straight through him.

Once she did, he fell to his knees. She kicked him, forcing him out.

She moved on to the next and fought again, as weapons caught onto her. Big or small, her skin was taking streaks of wounds, leaving her vulnerable enough to join the dead.

She wasn’t giving up. She needed Finan.

Out of breath, she kept going, all in the hopes she would prevail and find him.

They couldn’t yet tell if this battle was coming to an end, but the dread of her possible death was driving him insane.

It left a taste in his mouth he never wanted.

Distraught, his emotions had taken over; his sanity was losing its grip to reality, his heart wrenching in his chest. His voice carried across the field the best he could. Like a prayer, her name fluttered through the wind, trying to find her and still hoping it wasn’t too late.

Finan was at a complete loss.

Where could she have gone? Maybe she backed out - or maybe she was down and dead, he thought.

Grunting for force, yelling for assurance, his body kept him busy. Sword in his hand, he fought left and right, front and back, slaying one Dane after the other. He needed victory against the enemy.

With faith stuck at his neck, he begged his God that the woman he cared for was alright. He begged, his whispers shadowed in the fight, that she was still alive and fighting just as he was.

It wasn’t their first battle together; they’ve fought side by side before and always made it through. But the gut feeling residing in him made room for his anxiety to cripple him.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

She was sometimes impossible; infuriating even. She was stubborn and sometimes reckless. She was fearless, and yet gentle. She had a touch that could either melt a thousand men or bring them to their knees, begging for their lives.

There were more reasons to love her. He couldn’t depart from it; it was like she stuck to him, every part of her body and soul intertwining with him.

The words were never spoken, but they still stood by each other’s side - mute, but not blind. It was an invisible thread pulling and pushing but never breaking them apart.

“Freya!”

Piles of bodies were scoured across the open field, their blood tainting Mother Nature’s body.

The noise had quietened down; only the victors remained as they gathered the prisoners and tended to the wounded.

He was stumbling across the dead, searching through the fallen faces to find her.

It was a dreadful maze, an overwhelming route to nothing. And yet, he wasn’t giving up. How could he when she was still out there? How could he stop searching when the woman he loved seemed to have disappeared forever?

Frantic to his core, only his voice deafened the silence surrounding the world.

“Freya!”

His knees were about to cave in, guiding him downwards; his brother by his side, Sihtric held the man up with an arm around the danish warrior’s shoulders as he was carried away back to the main grounds. However, Finan forced himself still. His eyes were still looking, still wandering. “Where did she go?”

To his hushed tone, his inquiry came with no answers.

The silence hugged the air. Hopelessness was crawling up inside him, shaking his body.

Sihtric then spoke up. “Finan.” He placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder for attention. “Look.” He gestured to turn and watch the horizons.

Lifting his head, he saw her.

Finally.

Finally, she graced his view with her survival.

Her body was covered in scratches from head to toe as she silently made her way to him and the others. She remained speechless.

They had won, and she couldn’t bother dancing to victory as her heart wore her heavy, its weight dragging her towards the mudded grass.

He should’ve felt relieved - she was safe and out of harms way. But for some reason, his heart still broke at his sight; he was troubled, on the verge of anger, of frustration.

She could hear him call her name as he ran towards her.

She tried to speed up her steps but did not have the energy to pursue.

“Where have you been?! You made me believe you were dead!” He burst out without thought. He was completely exhausted, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I couldn’t find you! I-I was worried sick!” He didn’t even stop to take a breath, he kept going without holding back. “What the hell were ya thinking?!”

She was watching him, her eyes following the traces of his features as he expressed his worry and his anger, his voice tone increasing slowly.

She could tell he had gotten scared. It was the way he was staring at her that gave it away.

He was still rambling; she wasn’t paying attention to his words anymore when she dropped her weapons. She then took his hand and gently placed it on her chest, right where her heart stood, holding him in place.

She still did not speak, letting his voice carry both of them.

The realization slowly hit; her heart raced against the palm of his hand, he started to calm down.

He was catching his breath, his chest heaving up and down.

Tensions were still running high when comfort softly slipped in. She was standing in front of him, alive.

She bore bruises like the rest of them, and he couldn’t look away.

As his left arm still held her, his right hand wandered to her wounds. His fingers gently traced the small cut on her head, down to her broken nose and then to her neck. Only then, when his arm kept following the limbs of her body did she wince at the touch under her waist.

Her voice barely made a sound but Finan knew something was wrong; she had tightened her grip on his hand, her eyes closed as her body took in the pain that waved across her.

He looked down to notice the blood slowly slithering down her hip to her leg, then down to the mud.

She tried wearing a reassuring smile, something to ease his discomfort.

“Finan…”

It was muttered, delicate; hearing his name roll across her tongue, he could almost cry. He could feel the tears prickling the corner of his eyes, his browns gazing at her.

Freya took one step closer, wanting to feel his warmth - the sign he still lived - against her own body. To feel the spark bursting from his skin to hers; the thought of it accelerated her heart rate. Oh, did she love this man.

He wanted to kiss her. The sheer need of it, the wanting and desperation that crept out of him could turn a person blind.

And yet, he didn’t dare. It was too good to be true, right? The darkest part of him was playing mind tricks. It was mischievous, treacherous even.

But he could feel her breath against him. Her lips so close to his, one move and he could take her right there and then.

But again, nothing happened.

They stood still, like time itself.

The sun was peaking high up, lighting up the sky to its prettiest of blue and they did not move.

It was cold. Her skin shivered as their breaths crowded the space between them.

His eyes were still gawking at the wound on the right side of her waist - it couldn’t have been that bad since she was still on her two feet. A few inches deeper and she would’ve been cold in his arms.

She sensed his distress. His breathing was catching up to him, making him dizzy.

He tried to speak but the words were stuck in his throat this time.

His hand was still pressed against her chest when she reached for him; her hands carrying his head as she leaned towards him, their foreheads pressed against one another and bringing their bodies closer together. It was her way of telling him ‘I’m safe, I’m here’, of telling him she was spared.

She felt the tingle at the edge of her lips; he stood so close and yet he was so far away.

They stayed like this for a little while longer - the rest of the group let them be, not daring to interrupt the moment.

The sentiment they felt for each other, the unspoken words that draped their skins and wrapped them tightly against one another, held them strong.

The noise of the war was gone.

They were the only two people left in this place.

These unspoken words were dancing across their lingering touch, the ghostly tingle carrying them on into another day, until the next battle, and the one after that.

They were here, voiceless - closed up to the physical world around them.

But with Finan, with her, unspoken words were enough.

They always knew what they meant to each other and that was okay.

Looking into the future was a dangerous game, and so they let it be.

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

xoxo,

#the last kingdom #finan #tlk fanfic #finan x oc #finan x reader #mywriting #mark rowley #finan imagine #the last kingdom fanfic #finan the agile

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jkknight98 · 1 year

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Coastal Waves

Pssts, I know it's late but I promised you guys a story, right? Wow, this took me forever to do with irl stuff taking up my time, but who would guess this ended up being 8 pages long, not me! But I hope you guys enjoy this next story in this accidental merman series I created.

Warnings: abuse themes, soft vore, hard vore mentions, character viewed as property rather than individual.

Dream was pissed as he tried not to throw his cell phone across the room, the faint voice of Sapnap just adding to the ever-growing stress headache, how could so many years of hard work go to waste just like that! He worked too damn hard to find a viable Mer egg case that wasn’t just a lousy shark one that they imitated and nearly lost an arm when he took out the guarding parents at the nesting sites, he can’t have lost his property now. He brought a hand up to his face to feel the pale scar that ran from his left brow, across his eye to his nose, remembering the pink-haired merman that he fought a while back during his…research collecting. That was the only fish he halfway respected but also hated them as they were an ambassador. He remembered almost punching the television when he saw that blank-faced bastard behind the blond one as the treaty was signed, why should he be friendly to a talking goldfish? After everything, their species had done, and more than likely still did?

“Dream?? What do we do about Tommy, how do we find out who took him?”

Sapnap’s voice continued to be grating on his ears as he sighed,” I have cameras in the house, I’ll be able to watch the footage while you get over here, so hurry up.” He ended the call before the man could respond, quickly walking over to his computer to check over the files, starting from today up to the day he left the mer… and couldn’t help but snarl in rage at the sight he saw. The door was broken down by men in black suits, a familiar-looking brunette, and finally the pink hair bastard striding in like he owned the place. Dream couldn’t help but sweep the books off his desk in rage, of course, it would be him. He was almost ready to slam the laptop shut when he watched the interactions between the three Mers and felt his mouth drop as the pink-haired Mer drank a large glass of water … before they swallowed his Tommy whole. It seemed to almost talk to its middle before the group left, why in the world would they eat their offspring that way, did they want to make him last longer? There was no way to recover his property now… He almost kicked the table, but Dream was quickly struck with a thought… what if they didn’t truly eat Tommy… He rolled over to one of his journals, flipping through the worn pages until he got to the sketched anatomy of the mer... and noted how in a human the esophagus would solely lead to the stomach, but it branches in mers. One pathway led to a stomach more powerful than any human’s, but the other led to a separate organ… one that shared a wall with a lung… which meant it also received oxygen. The perfect place to store away tiny offspring that could easily be eaten by a predator, nothing can get them if you eat them first. Just like mouth-brooding fish species…only with more foolproof protection.

Dream couldn't help but let a smile grow across his face… this means he could get his Tommy back, and all his hard work didn’t go to waste.

=`=

Phil sighed softly as he sorted through the paperwork at his desk, using his free hand to roll around a dark purple scale, gods above did he hate doing this stuff? ‘Why did humans have to make things so complicated, things were so much easier when his kind was allowed to just eat them, but now he has to act all civil with them due to the treaty.’ He lifted up the newspaper as the humans called it and smiled at the picture of him and his sons, marveling at how it captured their likeness completely in the flimsy material, ”at least some humans make exciting things.” His thought drifted to how his dorsal fin had a massive chunk missing from it thanks to a fisherman's gaff hook, there were some nasty ones out there… especially the one his boys were currently trying to find, that masked bastard had attacked multiple nesting sights and had the gall to attack one of his son's head on. The only reason he managed to escape was thanks to spraying his son in the face with a burning liquid. It took ages for the pain to fade in the water, but the human had already fled by that point and couldn’t be found.

Speaking of which, his boys should have arrived back here ages ago, he rumbled quietly in his chest slightly as he worried, he knew that the recon mission was dangerous. He should have just sent humans to scope out the house, sure they would have been fodder for any traps the masked one had, but it would have meant his pod was safe. He jerked with his phone rang on the desk, another human device that had good uses, and sighed in relief as he heard Wilbur’s voice on the other side,” are you boys alright, did you find them, Why aren’t you home yet?” His anxiety over his children's safety eased as his youngest laughed through the speaker, making his heart rate slow as he listened to every word with his full attention.

“We didn’t find them, but we did find some documents with a name, apparently the bastard's name is Dream….but we do have a very interesting surprise for you when we arrive home. Can you set up the pool with a finer filtration system and set the water to be warmer for when we get back?”

This made Phil hum in confusion as he moved to stand, slipping the scale into his pocket and putting the papers back into a neat stack on his desk,” You know that Techno likes the temperature cooler and he’ll be pissed the next time he swims, but why do I need to set up the finer filtration, one of you aren’t sick right?” He couldn’t help but give a concerned whine at the thought of them being sick and not close enough for him to care for them, how can he not worry for them when they were the only ones to survive the spawning?

His son let out another pearl of warm laughter on the other side of the phone, making Phil want to hum in response“ Like I said we are bringing home a surprise for you to see, and Techno won’t complain that much about the heat when you see what we’re bringing.”There was a faint rumbling on the other side of the phone that almost sounded like the same parental noise that Phil had done, but there was no way the two of them would be making that sound.

Phil just sighed again as he entered the large pool room as the humans would call it, it was almost as if a mini ocean was placed into the human building, filled with every manner of sea life imaginable to keep them from feeling too homesick as they finish their work with the humans. He stuck a hand inside the water to gently stroke the back of the rescued sea turtle that Techno lovingly named Carl,” Alright but just ease your old man's heart and get home soon.”

`%`

Techno couldn’t help but rumble happily as he felt the guppy in his pouch wriggle around, enjoying the slowly dropped-in shrimp pieces, basking in the instinctual feelings long thought to be non-existent in himself; until now. He mildly rubbed at his pouch as he thought of names for his new guppy. ‘Did they already have a name from before they were in the human's control, would they even want a new one, ..... I think Theseus would fit them really well..’

He jumped slightly when a hand slip up to sit next to his own, his body acting defensively as he snarled at the possible threat while protecting his middle, but relaxed slightly as his brother held up his hands,” whoa Technie, it's just me, I just wanted to feel the guppy.” He lowered his lips back over his teeth as he relaxed slightly, it was just Wilbur and he knew he would try to take his guppy, he was his brother after all. He slowly moved his hand aside as his brother's cool hand moved to take its place, it was a foreign sensation that almost made him twitch away, much like how he normally did whenever he was touched by anyone. This was worse since his body seemed to realize that his core held such extremely precious cargo, but his mind knew that his brother was family and wouldn’t hurt the tiny guppy, he shivered as the child pressed back at the exploring hand.

()-()

Wilbur couldn’t help the low purr that rumbled out of his throat when he felt the small pressure press back against him from under his brother’s skin, just faintly hearing the curious chirping from within, there was the little guppy. He let the smile fall from his lips as he looked up to Techno with a more grim expression, ”He looks very young, but to be as small as he is and still use human speech that well, he should be much bigger..” Techno let out a slightly angry hiss at what he knew his brother was suggesting, like most species of fish, mers were semi-indeterminate growers and would only grow in size if they had adequate food in their environment. Their newest guppy was clearly much older than their size let on, which meant that the tiny tank and limited food the human gave them indicated that they stopped growing in size to conserve their energy, to be able to speak that well-meant they should be closer to human size.

“He needs to get a lot higher quality foods if we are going to correct his size problem, maybe some high-grade tuna or something redder if you catch my drift.” Wilbur watched as Techno’s eyes slid to look at the human driver in thought, “but not our employees, we can source some later when they're settled.” He chuckled slightly as his brother leaned back into his seat and the driver let out the tiniest breath of relief, man humans were fun to mess with, but he had somewhere else to focus. He brought his face closer to his brother's chest and let out his own croons to the guppy, muttering out the mer words for family, they were safe, and how happy he was. His higher and more melodic crooning was soon matched by the gruffer and monotone croons from Techno, leaving the car filled with a symphony of sounds only known to the darkest depths of the ocean….

And leading the poor human driver to grip the steering wheel tighter as their skin crawled with the instinctual thought of “This isn't for human ears….I would die just hearing this if I wasn't an employee.”

*`*

Tommy was very confused by everything that was happening to him, one minute he thought he was going to die from the giant mer swallowing him, but now he didn’t know that was going to happen. He was being fed his favorite food despite not doing anything to deserve the reward and the mers were speaking the forbidden words…but he couldn’t help but chirp happily to them, like a hidden part of himself was finally set free. The walls of the stomach around him rumbled with every word the big mer spoke. It was very scary at first, but the warm walls gently rubbing his skin made him feel more at ease than ever in his life. This was even better than when Dream would take him out of his tank to hold him, letting him rest on the man's chest so he could hear his heart, it was the one reward he strived for the most. But now it felt like he was even closer to the Mer’s heart than he ever was Dream’s, and he couldn’t help himself but press himself back against the mer’s hand. He let out his own chirps when he heard the voice of the second mer, they were brown-haired if he remembered correctly, but their voice sounded so pretty! They were just like the human voices that came out of the Tv and radio, but better as they spoke in a language that made everything in his body react, not just his ears. Then the larger mer started their own rumbling chirps around him and his entire being was being shaken by the two voices, and he couldn’t stop himself from joining in, chirping loudly as he frantically swam around the organ and letting his hands and fins brush the warm surfaces.

He was so happy, and he couldn’t imagine things becoming better than they already were.

=`=

Phil couldn’t help but let out a low trill of relief as he watched the car pull into the driveway and saw his two boys exit the vehicle, quickly making his way outside to check them over for any injuries, making his way to Wilbur first and gently patting him down. “What took you so long, it was just supposed to be a recon mission and you managed to bust into one of that human’s hideouts??” He let out a displeased rumble when Wilbur laughed off his checking and told him to calm down, he then turned to Techno and froze when the taller let out a low growl when his hands drew near. It made a matching growl rumble in his chest, he was the eldest and pod leader of the group and he did not stress over his son’s health to have his authority challenged,” Now why the fuck are you growling at me Techno…”

The humans in the vicinity were amazed to watch the giant 6’4 pink-haired mer that they had seen destroy a car once before when he got frustrated with it cower down to the only 5’9 blond mer, bringing the mental image of a burley Rottweiler cowering to a lithe hound. Phil was close to snarling out a challenge but he whirled when his other son placed his hands on his shoulders, Wilbur wearing a stressed and submissive smile. “Remember the surprise I talked about Dad, Techno is just being a bit protective about it, he’s not challenging you.”

Phil let the snarl fall as he looked back towards Techno, relaxing as the larger one nodded and only brought his arms around his body in a defensive but clearly submissive posture, leaving the elder the sigh at his own behavior. “I’m sorry Techno, I was so ready to come to find you boys, I guess my stress got the best of me.” He slowly brought his hand over to his son’s shoulder and smiled gratefully when the pinkette purred lowly at the parental contact, his instincts really did jump the wave crest there. He was still curious about the surprise his boys promised, especially as Techno grew closer to him and Wilbur to purr louder, a behavior his son rarely did.

`%`

Technoblade was immensely happy at this moment, he was with every member of his pod and was going to share his guppy with his father, nothing more could be right with the world. He couldn’t help but lightly compress his storage around the guppy and purr louder when they wriggled, he needed to refresh their water after introductions, they needed quality treatment after being kept in that dingy tank not even fit for a mucksucker. He took a deep breath as he entered the pool room, feeling almost at home with the salty smell, especially when Carl poked his head above the water and quickly swam to the edge closest to them. He gave the turtle a gentle stroke before moving to strip off the restrictive human clothing he was forced to wear, though he did enjoy the white ‘button down’ with its golden buttons, and let his body slide into the almost too-warm water. His human legs fused together as the outer covering of human-like skin dissolved away, showing off the scarred pink scales and blood-red fins that flared at the opportunity to stretch out, as well as the protective slime coating that once sealed his gills so he could breathe like he missed doing.

A pair of splashes drew his eyes open to see his brother and father already in the process of changing, his brother's blue scales almost appearing invisible if it weren’t for the stripes of pale yellow and his father's dark green and black scales shimmering from the displaced rays of light, making him feel almost nostalgic. He brought a hand up to gently press at his storage as he let out a low rumbling purr, giving a soft rumble of guppy safe before starting the process of releasing the tiny mer.

*`*

Tommy gave a sharp chirp of panic as the soft walls pressed into him, flattening down his fins and trapping his arms to his sides, not knowing what was happening as he distinctly felt himself being moved. The big mer didn't change his mind did they, or did he do something wrong to be punished by them? He ate all the shrimp they gave him even if it made his stomach hurt a bit, but he was still being good right?? He froze in his wriggling as his upper half entered the mouth of the giant mer, completely fearful as the jaws slowly parted to let water flood inside along with giant fingers. He let himself be pulled out gently, blinking wearily as he tried to get used to the bright light, but yelped as the fingers released him.

He truly expected to fall to the ground with a painful splat like the last time he was cropped, but swore he felt like he was floating back in his tank… he opened his eyes slowly to try not to break the illusion he was sure to be in. He froze as was looking at the giant mer in the face, the bright red eyes watching him with a fond expression as their pink hair floated around them…wait floated? Tommy turned with a flick of his tail and gasped at the sight before him, it was nothing like he had ever seen before!

The ‘tank’ they were in was absolutely massive, even bigger than the tub Dream would put him in when his tank needed to be cleaned, and full of fish! He was only used to seeing the thin silvery fish that darted around his tiny tank when Dream added them, but here they were all different sizes and colors. He flinched when a giant brown and red thing drew close to him, forcing him to dart into the safety of the giant mer’s hair, but watched in amazement as his protector stroked the creature's head before pushing it along. His gaze was drawn away when he heard a gentle crooning and he chirped happily at the brown-haired mer as they drew nearer, and encouraged him to leave his pink hideaway. He smiled brightly at them, letting his fins twitch happily as he got to swim freely between the two giants, showing off his best tricks to earn their praise. He let out his own happy trills as they purred at his actions, but jumped at a different tone of purrs rumbling through his body.

With a turn of his head, his eyes met a similar pair of blue ones, and he realized he was looking at another large mer. Their blond hair was similar to his own and he was surprised to see their eyes dilate in excitement at him, he looked at the other two in confusion, but they were extremely relaxed as they watched the reaction. He turned back as the green-scaled mer drew closer, and allowed himself to be cupped within their hands as they drew him up to their face, and he watched their face change into a joyous expression. He was even amazed to see that the green mer had a chuck missing from the back fin just like he did! The blond mer purred loudly as the others drew closer, leaving Tommy at the center of the deadliest creatures on earth, but he never felt safer in his life. The blond looked at him so fondly and rumbled out something so softly that Tommy never imagined them as the monster Dream always said they were.

“My guppy… my pod..”

.u.

Dream looked over his notes carefully, circling the words pepper spray, copper acetate, and crude oil, and laughed quietly to himself,” try to breathe through this you talking goldfish.” He glanced over when his phone chimed with an incoming text and let his laugh boom into a full cackle as he saw the message from Sapnap.

Sapnap: I have the address for the Mermen ambassador's home, I hope they didn’t hurt-

Dream didn’t even bother reading the rest of the text as he rolled his chair over to his desktop, setting up his multiple ‘blob’ accounts to order his supplies and begin his prep. He stole his Tommy away from protective mers before, he can easily do it again and take out the ambassadors all in one move. He needed to teach those fish a lesson, they think that they could get away with eating humans for centuries with a simple ‘stop polluting our home and we will provide our knowledge’ all with the subtle threat of making the ocean a warzone.

He would focus on the majority later, for now, he just needed to show the trio what happens when his property is stolen. He would get his Tommy back at all costs.

#jkknight writing #jkknight story #soft vore #safe vore #hard vore mention #mcyt g/t community #mcyt vore #mcyt g/t vore #gosh this took forever

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snow-system-wol · 6 months

Text

Fluffcember Day 9, Guard

S'ria had seen G'raha shudder and nearly buckle at the weight thrown against his shield – but he shouldn't have. It wasn't really meant to be a big deal, and G'raha had fought in so much harder fights, so why –

S'ria had noticed then, and fought to keep G'raha in less physical roles, but no one had any control over what happened at Carteneau. They'd all lived, but S'ria had seen G'raha raise his shield to block a Colossus before S'ria turned to follow Estinien and leave G'raha behind.

And then he kept wincing on the return trip. If he thought he was being subtle, he wasn't doing a very good job of it. S'ria spared his dignity and sense of judgment by waiting to bring it up until they were alone.

“Raha, are you in pain?”

“I–I, well, ‘tis nothing much?” It took little more than a patient stare from S'ria for him to lower his defensive stance. “It happens sometimes, that is all. This arm –”, G'raha clenched his right fist stiffly, “– it just pains me occasionally. I apologize if my performance in the field has given you cause for concern.”

Menphina fell into place, a whisper of her presence alongside S'ria's. White magic already tingled at their fingertips. “Could we –”, S'ria shook his head against the vague disorientation, “could I…?”

“No. It shall not work – it cannot be healed, unfortunately.”

The magic dissipated immediately. “Oh…I see. I'm sorry.” S'ria fell into consideration. “May I touch you? Is that alright?”

“I – yes?” G'raha seemed confused about either the change in direction or the fact that S'ria felt the need to ask.

He shifted close and moved G'raha's arm to lay on his legs. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

S'ria let Menphina's knowledge guide his movements, wrapping both hands around G'raha's forearm and pressing his thumbs into the muscle there in cautious circles. G'raha exhaled softly in realization.

“Truly, do not feel obligated to…”

He trailed off as his eyes drifted closed, S'ria's massaging lowering to his hand and forcing tendons to relax that he hadn't even known were tensed. Any desire to performatively suggest S'ria need not continue was quickly lost to that fact that this was easing the ache. He could not guess if S'ria had done this before (he suspected not, as cautious as he was with laying his hands on others at times) or if Menphina's understanding of anatomy and healing was sufficient.

S'ria took a slow path upwards, soothing the sharp pain in his wrist, the soreness of the joint at his elbow, the relatively minor ache of his bicep. A part of G'raha worried about S'ria getting to his shoulder, the joint delicately painful, the pseudo-sense of bone grinding in the socket an echo of long-gone crystal – he needn't have been concerned.

Yes, the joint was tender, but when S'ria dug his thumbs into the muscle between his neck and shoulder, the groan punched out of him was only one of relief.

“Mercy, Ria, if you keep this up I fear I shall become spoiled.”

S'ria gently rolled his eyes with a smile. “Oh, gods forbid. Good.”

#ffxiv-oc #snow-system #ffxiv oc #fluffcember 2023 #wolgraha #so how about that Encyclopedia Eorzea crystal necrosis thing huh #see day 1 for prompt info #yeah this is like twice as long as these normally were supposed to be but shh #this is the first of the fluffcembers that clearly acknowledge the S'ria's system status #but I think out of context it sounds like he's just got a cleric-style pact with the actually godness and that's fun #if this was like 10% longer I'd do a read more but tentatively I'm not going to

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neopronouns-in-action · 2 years

Text

Neopronouns in action: cy/cyb/cybryk, which will follow the same rules as it/its/itself for this example.

Replace it with cy

Replace its with cyb

Replace itself with cybryk

EX:

"It is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as it gets a fence set up around its yard so the puppy can go outside without it having to walk it. Its uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting it use, since it lost its."

Becomes:

"Cy is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as cy gets a fence set up around cyb yard so the puppy can go outside without cy having to walk it. Cyb uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting cy use, since cy lost cyb."

This is also a writing prompt! Go wild! And by "writing prompt" yes I do mean you can use this for an original story you intend to publish!

(can you tell I'm mad about ableism?)

= = = Indispensable===

“What do you remember?”

Those were the first words cy could ever remember being spoken to cy.

What did cy remember? “Nothing.” Nothing except...

Cyb pronouns. Cy knew cy was a “cy”, rather than an “ae” or a “they” or a “he” or a “she” or a “ze” or a “xey” or any other pronouns cy had ever heard anyone use.

Cy didn't know how cy'd lost cyb memories, or why other people could move around by themselves but cy couldn't, not until Sumac, the physician cy was most familiar with, explained it to cy after cy'd asked again. (Cy had already asked twice before, but cy hadn't been fully lucid during those times, so fell unconcious again before cy could hear the answer)

Sumac didn't really want to tell cy, not until cy was feeling better, but she said cy had a right to know, so she told cy the story.

Cy hadn't always been here. Not in this hospital, or this city, or this country, or this continent, not even this planet.

The planet was called GG047, the continent was Weavanim, the country was Part Six of Seventeen, the city was Krosgate, and the hospital was Weavani River Medican.

This star system, cy was told, was called the Xyvis system, had seventeen planets, and over five hundred moons. GG047 liself had five of those moons.

Cy was not from this planet, which was the closest one in the system to the central star, cy was from VT086, which was the fifth planet from the star. Cy wasn't a vi'an, like most of the physicians, like Sumac, cy was a drex, like the youngest physician, Ka'ri, and a few other staff members.

Cy had been sent here from VT086 by an extremist group known as Next Dawn, who believed that all life that hadn't evolved on VT086 was an affront to their god. Cy had been sent to Krosgate to assassinate the leader of the SP-FR Congo, an inter-species organization that encouraged friendly cultural exchange and education.

Before cy could become too shocked and horrified, it got worse. No, cy wasn't in trouble or going to be punished, because, and this was the part that made it worse, cy hadn't had any choice in the matter.

This was why Sumac hadn't wanted to tell cy until cy was more recovered. It was stress no one wanted to put on cy while cy was still sick.

New Dawn had kidnapped cy, drugged cy out of cyb mind, and brainwashed cy until cy could do nothing but follow the orders of the people who'd done this to cy. Cy had been a slave, with no control over cyb mind or body.

No one blamed cy for what cy had done under the affects of the control of the New Dawn slave masters.

The people who had fought to defend the leader of SP-FR had done their best to restrain cy without hurting cy, but none of them were experienced in combat, and hadn't realized how comparatively fragile drex cephalothoraxes were compared to the similar structures of vi'an or drerokai anatomy.

In an effort to pin cy down so cy couldn't hurt anyone else, they'd accidentally crushed cyb hydraulic system, so now cyb body couldn't pump the necessary fluid into cyb legs or pedipalps to move around by cybryk.

The hospital was working to have more drex physicians transferred in to help with cy treatment (which could include a number of additional mobility aids of different varieties and complexity, ranging from, at the most basic, a hoverchair designed specifically to fit cyb body, to, at the other end of the spectrum, a full replacement of all cyb affected limbs and organs with cybernetic prosthetics. It would all depend on what cy wanted to do. No matter what cy chose it would all be provided, free of consequences, and cy didn't have to do anything except sign the records of approval.)

There were other injuries the hospital was treating, not just from the attack itself, but from the conditioning and drugs cy had been subjected to prior to it.

One of the effects was memory loss, the first thing cy had noticed when cy regained consciousness for the first time. Cy knew cy'd used to have memories, and now they were gone. It wasn't like looking at a blank wall, it was like looking at a wall that you knew had once held a mural, but had now been knocked down and burned to ash. All that remained was the empty space, with no hint to what had been there before.

Another affect was cyb inability to sense pain. The combination of drugs had been crafted with the express purpose of, among other things, permanently overloading cyb ability to recognize pain signals. This, Sumac explained with heavy regret, came from the misguided idea (not helped by the many fictional stories across the entertainment styles that used the idea as a “quick and easy” way to make their villains seem extra scary and threatening) that not sensing pain would make you stronger and more durable, able to keep fighting no matter your injuries.

This was patently false on multiple levels, but, unfortunately, the people who were willing to enslave others and use them as tools didn't pay much mind to caring about them or even caring enough to check if their idea made any sense.

As evidenced by cyb destroyed hydraulic system, not feeling the pain didn't mean the damage didn't exist. Just because cy couldn't feel the pain from cyb hydraulic system being crushed didn't mean cy could jump or climb the way cy could have before the injury.

Just because cy couldn't feel the pain from the headaches cy got didn't mean cyb thinking didn't become clouded and sluggish.

Cy would probably never regain cyb memories, or the ability to feel pain. The drugs that had erased them had been too potent. Even if the hospital were able to contact any of cyb friends or family members, cy would never know for certain that what they said was the truth. Cy would always have to be careful to make sure cy wasn't injured without noticing. Cy would no longer be able to tell when cy needed to go inside to avoid damage from the sun until cy became light-headed, which was one of the last signs of xyvar-burn to occur. By the time you became light-headed, that meant it was already life-threatening.

Cy couldn't remember who cy'd been before cy woke up in cyb hospital room, on a strange planet surrounded by aliens cy could never remember meeting before.

Cy was going to be disabled for the rest of cyb life.

The people who had stopped cy from murdering the leader of the group could have killed cy, decided that cyb life wasn't worth saving, that cy was no longer worthy of any consideration or compassion, because cy had been “brainwashed” and drugged and enslaved.

But they hadn't. They hadn't even meant to hurt cy at all. No one had intended to damage cyb hydraulic system. They'd tried to stop cy without hurting cy, even though cy had been trying to kill them.

They'd cared about cy, they'd known it wasn't cyb fault or choice to be doing what cy'd been doing, and they'd done everything they could to stop cy without killing cy.

Cy was disabled, and would never be the person cy was before cy was kidnapped and poisoned and turned into a weapon.

But cy was alive, with cyb whole life ahead of cy, all because other people had chosen to care, and cy would be grateful to them for as long as cy lived.

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ghoultramp · 3 years

Text

dream, interrupted [bakugou x reader]

▷ bnha

↳ pairing: katsuki bakugou x f!reader

↳ content: masturbation, somnophilia, thigh fucking, praise, cockwarming

↳ words: 2k

⇢ summary: katsuki is frustrated that he can’t sleep, and also just a bit horny.

also available on ao3

⇢ note: i would say this is tamer, softer even, than my last few pieces, considering the content. there are a few mentions of alcohol being consumed the previous evening (which has been tagged), but this was written with two consenting adults in a secure relationship in mind.

i do hope you enjoy this bakugou fic that almost caused me to have an existential crisis - aha~

The dull drone of the traffic beyond the apartment windows were beginning to grind away at his sanity. How long had he been awake for this time? With a grunt, he rolled over to check his phone, once again, for the time.

“Fucking damn it,” Katsuki cursed under his breath.

His angular features twisted as he scowled, how had it only been 10 minutes? It didn't seem possible.

He returned the phone to its resting place, under his pillow, before begrudgingly turning onto his back. He brought his hands to his face and dragged thick fingers through his disheveled blond hair. He let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his palms hard against his eyes, pulling them down his cheeks to rest idly on his chest.

Katsuki’s ruby eyes wandered over to the lump next to him, watching the cover rise and fall softly with your breathing. The recent longer, more arduous workdays were uncharacteristically weighing him down; the lack of sleep was making him grumpier, easier to anger - both of which becoming a boiling pot - and the sheer workload was now more than a little overwhelming.

His eyelids felt heavy recalling memories of the previous evening; Katsuki had come home in a revolting mood, worse than usual, and instead of using his words like a big boy, he took out his frustrations on you and your body after unwinding with a few drinks. But then again...

You never complained.

It was no secret that you loved how he could become so unrestrained during those 'bad day at work' sessions, passionate and explosive.

Trying to simulate your light touch, he traced the outlines of his well-defined abdominal muscles. He shuddered when his fingers brushed along the sensitive skin of his tight obliques, visualizing your delicate fingers repeating these same motions from last night. He let his eyelids finally fall as he recalled you positioned over him, your drunk needy eyes taking in his statuesque body as he scratched at your back hungrily.

Settling himself in further, Katsuki shifted his hips and shoulders. He reached an eager hand down to his hardening cock, cautiously fondling it as his eyes peered over to assess your level of consciousness.

"Hnnn--" Katsuki failed to hold back his groan, his abdominal muscles twisting and tightening as you let out a gratifying sound in your sleep.

His cock convulsed and the feedback spurred him to grip tighter. He could feel it throbbing beneath his grip, he stroked his cock harder upon hearing the gift of another delicious noise from you.

“You sure seem like you’re having a nice dream,” Katsuki murmured, opening one eye as he turned his head to look at the back of yours.

He bit his lip, imagining that he was reaching his free hand out to stroke your hair, gently at first, before he would then spread his fingers to take a hold of you tightly. A low growl escaped his throat, he was frustrated.

Katsuki grunted as he turned onto his side, shifting closer to you. He was careful to position his dick-holding hand so as not to hamper its performance. He halted immediately when you shuffled ever so slightly, a strangled moan caught in his throat as the leaking head of his tender, hard cock made contact with the bare skin of your ass.

His breathing was now shallow and irregular as he extended his unoccupied hand, he could feel himself quiver as he brought it to rest cautiously high on your thigh. He let his thumb press gently against your hip.

The sweet song of a soft whimpering encouraged him.

“Such a cute thing,” he whispered as he traced faint circles against your ass with his precum tipped cock. “Those good dreams better be about me, princess.”

His grip around his cock tightened when you groaned, shifting your leg in your sleep. Katsuki inhaled sharply, biting his lip hard. It took tremendous effort to quell the moans he so desperately wanted to release, as he felt the warmth of your pussy envelop him.

Katsuki felt the aching pull in his hips as he rubbed himself unashamedly against your rear. He continued caressing your hip while he fought hard against the urge to dig his in his nails and mercilessly fuck you right there and then.

“Fuuuck,” he hissed, caught in the thought as he leaned his head back.

Breathlessly, he finally brought himself to meet your enticing entrance. It took all his strength not to cum right there when he brushed against you, your tight cunt already dripping wet. He followed your slick juices to your thighs.

“God, you’re fucking soaked,” he breathed, rubbing the head of his cock against your inner thighs.

He imagined that your thighs - the way they were tightly shut, the way your juices had trickled down - were a completely different part of your anatomy. Katsuki almost yowled, caught deep in his reverie, when you quivered in response to his touch. He’d not expected that another one of your movements would cause him to penetrate the tight gap between your thighs.

Straining his neck, he observed with bated breath as you shifted yet again, this time it was your arms. He exhaled, relieved when he saw they had only moved closer to your head. He found the way you nuzzled your lightly blushed cheeks into the pillow quite precious.

Katsuki’s breath shuddered as he let go of his cock, his need was agonizing. He had to do something. He was allowed to, surely?

He found himself slowly rolling against you as he fucked the space between your legs. As he moved his hand from your hip to your thigh, he felt the overwhelming need to knead his fingers against you; the succulently soft, long moan escaping your lips caused his eyes to roll back, his eyelids flutter, and his hips quiver.

Katsuki shook his head, trying to collect himself. There was no way he could allow himself to cum yet, not before he'd claimed your sweet, ripe cunt in your unconscious state.

"Focus," he scolded himself with a grumble.

Now taking the base of his tender, pulsating cock between his thumb and forefingers, Katsuki maneuvered himself until he was poised within reach of your sweet hole. He was feeling more inebriated from your warmth and scent alone than from any of the drinks you’d both shared last night.

He gently pressed on, feeling your cunt quiver; with the mess that had already been made between the pair of you, it didn’t take much for the head of Katsuki’s cock to intrude your tight walls. He let out a low groan when he heard the sopping wet sound your pussy made upon contact.

Katsuki gently rocked on his hips, he couldn’t refrain from panting as the friction against sensitive nerves vibrated throughout his body. How much longer would he be able to edge himself like this?

He didn’t care to halt when you made a sound this time, he was far too lost in these short, shallow, pleasurable thrusts. That was until he heard a whimper, louder than any of the sounds you'd made before; he stopped with his full head nestled in your cunt, wincing sharply when you tightened around it, the warning before hearing your dozy, broken voice.

“Kacchan?” The word strained against your dry throat, your eyelids too heavy to open.

“Shh, shh,” Katsuki reassured you, his voice cracking.

You weren't even vaguely aware that his hand had been on your thigh until he moved it, your body was still comfortably numb from the alcohol in your system. You felt your abdomen flutter as he delicately trailed his fingers over your silhouette, resting when he lay it on your head.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he purred.

You mumbled incoherently, discombobulated as you tried to make sense of what was going on; you found yourself drifting away softly with the way he stroked your hair, the warmth of his body so close to yours. You thought you heard his voice waver as he hummed.

Katsuki was shaking now, your lack of awareness was even more tantalizing, you were so innocent. He growled low in his throat, taking your hair in his fist just as he’d imagined. He felt you spasm as well as heard the shuddering moan that broke free beyond your lips.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered, his voice gruff and heady with arousal, “I promise.”

Katsuki kept his word; he gently lifted his pelvis, you both moaned in blissful unison as he took his time plugging you up completely. You felt his teeth make contact with your shoulder, trying his best to only gently nibble as your walls clamped down him around him.

“S-stop doing that,” he breathed against your shoulder.

You tried so hard to stifle your chuckle, he only growled when your insides mirrored pulses that corresponded to your laugh. Katsuki tugged on your hair playfully, he was pleased with the way you whimpered and backed up into him in response.

You relaxed your back into his strong chest, groaning as you moved just enough for him to reach under and around you. His hand gently fondled at your breast and he released his grip on your hair as you rolled your neck, resting your head against him, gasping.

Both of your hips swayed in unison, even just these gentle movements were sending delicious quakes throughout your entire body. Katsuki’s unoccupied hand reached around your thigh, you could feel him tremble as he placed his palm on your abdomen.

“I’ll never get enough of feeling this,” he whispered, you shuddered from his warm breath, lips caressing your earlobe. “Feeling me inside you right--” he pushed down with a palm ever so gently, the back of your head pushed further into him as you moaned without restraint, “--here.”

“Please, make me cum, Kaachan, fill me up,” you begged, whining as you ground against him, “please, Kaachan.”

“Well,” he began, his breathing heavy as turned his palm 90 degrees to point downward, “since you asked so nicely…”

Katsuki’s hand travelled down and you almost yelped when he took your engorged clit between his forefingers. He gently rolled your agonizingly sensitive nub between the first and second knuckles of his fingers, massaging gently as his thrusts picked up pace; just that bit harder and deeper.

Pitiful whines escaped your lips as he hit each one of your nerves, expertly navigating your body as you moved your hips in unison. Your chest heaved with your erratic breathing, lost in the waves of pleasure that seemed to vibrate to the very tip of your limbs.

Strangled cries escaped your slightly parted, dry lips, your body convulsing as Katsuki pulled out to the tip before one last thrust, bottoming out inside of you.

“There’s a good girl,” he declared as you writhed beneath him.

You felt him nuzzle the side of your face while you grabbed tightly at the sheet and pillow beneath you. Your cries were shaky and broken between luscious moans as you felt the gushing release of your climax, Katsuki’s fingers still gently massaged at your overstimulated clit.

He let out a long groan as his hips spasmed and you felt him collide with your cervix, Katsuki’s arm shot up to wrap around you as you let out a sob, overwhelmed by the sheer pressure of his cum filling you up. He held you while you both quivered with the rippling aftershocks of your orgasms.

Katsuki pulled you closer to him, his cock still nestled in your cunt, plugging you up nicely. He wriggled and made an oddly happy-sounding noise.

“I love you, y’know that, right?” Katsuki’s voice was hoarse and exhausted. He nuzzled you and you gave a sweet, equally tired sounding giggle; his cocked tensed just a little at that.

“I love you too, dumbass,” you told him, smiling softly.

You reached for the edge of the quilt and tugged it closely to your face before drifting off to the sound of Katsuki’s breathing and the dull drone of the traffic beyond the apartment windows.

2K notes · View notes

sondepoch · 4 years

Text

HC: MC breaks a bone!

Demons can’t break bones. Neither can angels. Nope, from head to toe, they’re pretty much indestructible. So imagine everyone’s utter shock when you break a bone, and they’re reminded of just how weak the human body really is.

Word Count: 5.2k

SFW + mild violence + mild description of broken bones

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

Boi flips out

So it didn’t actually happen while he was around, which is why he has so much trouble understanding what happened

You tripped on the steps outside Majolish? And you fell the wrong way??? And somehow, that was enough for you to break your ankle?!?!?!

Poor baby, he has no idea how he’s going to relay the information to Diavolo

When Mammon and Asmo sheepishly enter his study to tell him what happened, they’re highkey terrified for their lives - but learning that you actually broke a bone has him so shook that he doesn’t even remember to punish them, and he’s instead rushing to your room to see the damage for himself

He sees Belphie napping on your stomach and sort of assumes that everything is okay, and that his brothers were making a big deal out of nothing

Then he gets closer and sees the horribly twisted angle your left foot is in

Suffice it to say, neither Mammon nor Asmo returned to their rooms fully unscathed that night

Overcomes his natural hatred of Solomon to call him and ask for—brace yourself—help, and when the mage offers to cast a spell that will revert your body to its prior state, Lucifer insists on doing it himself, no longer trusting anyone else with your all-too-fragile body

Relocates your room to the first floor of the house after all is said and done

Asks Diavolo to move all your classes such that you don’t need to climb any stairs

Refuses to believe you when you tried to insist that bones breaking is fairly common for humans

Becomes super overprotective

Insists on helping you with everything

“Lucifer, I can walk down the stairs myself, you know.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can” - he says with a straight face, refusing to let go of your hand as he takes you down the two-step elevation outside the House of Lamentation

(Bonus:) One day he catches you and Levi looking at parkour videos and from that moment and onward he refuses to let you out of sight for any longer than is absolutely necessary

(Bonus bonus:) Catches you doing "parkour" in your bedroom, jumping from Beel’s shoulders to the bed, and then it becomes a new house rule that you’re not allowed to climb onto Beel’s shoulders

Mammon

He was with you when it happened, and the second he heard the crack, he screamed

Honestly, the most high-pitched, shrill sound you’d ever heard

You were more scared of the noise coming out of Mammon’s mouth than the awkward way your pinky was dangling

Only when he was done screaming did the pain actually set in, and then you were hissing viciously in an attempt to distract yourself, trying your hardest to blink the tears from your eyes because Mammon already looked like he was about to cry, and the Devildom really didn’t need two blubbering messes in one day

The one saving grace for you both was the fact that Simeon was nearby, and he used his Celestial magic to heal you (you both begged him not to tell Lucifer, of course)

Baby becomes even more possessive over you afterwards

Still can’t get over how easily it happened

“Are ya sure?” Mammon asks whenever you casually tell him you’re about to do something. Doesn’t matter if you say you’re folding paper cranes or planning on jumping off the roof of the House of Lamentation, he’s lost pretty much all faith in your ability to do anything without your human body breaking in the process

Oddly enough, he becomes much more touchy with you

Needs you to “prove to him” that you’re not injured by squeezing his hand

And then he just doesn’t let go

Oh, you’re holding hands? What? Who said that? Wait, can you prove that you’re not injured and squeeze his hand again? It’s for safety purposes. For safety.

Occasionally, though, he really does have you move your pinky just to prove to him that there weren’t any lasting effects

Overprotectiveness increases by 500 points

Starts to hover around your room a lot more, awkwardly trying to help (really, he’s doing his best) but often doing things much worse than if you simply did them yourself

Gets into a fight with his brothers whenever one of them handles you too roughly

“Hey!” He shouts at pretty much anyone who touches you “Ya gonna hurt my human!”

Will drop anything and everything if he ever sees you trip to catch your fall

Legit, he was once holding Lucifer’s cup of coffee and out of the corner of his eye, he saw you jump to flop on the couch. Cue instant panic mode: he turned into his demon form and all - literally throwing the coffee on Lucifer as he ran forward to catch your body before the couch could break any of your bones

Yeah, he got into a lot of trouble that day

Leviathan

Has officially decided that he’s never going outside again

Ever.

It happened while you were both at one of Lord Diavolo’s parties - you were trying to maneuver the crowds in search of him, actually, and another demon tugged you close and tried to force you to dance. You fought back, of course, frowning as you escaped the demon’s hold, but apparently, they pulled you back and your wrist just snapped

God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sound of your scream

The demon was punished severely, Diavolo made sure of that. But Levi didn’t care anymore - he just wanted to get you back home, safe and sound

In the following days, he never leaves your side

You have to switch to online classes, at least for as long as your wrist is healing, and Levi takes it upon himself to make sure that the assimilation process is as smooth as possible

You start taking all your classes together, remaining in the same room even if you don’t have the same subject

Homework is a little harder, since Levi usually finishes before you, but he waits for you to finish while he reads manga

Evenings are spent watching anime in his room and debating random topics (oh, and you both marathon the entirety of TSL a couple more times ;))

He even tries to let you get the video game experience, and he picks an RPG game for you both to play and lets you tell him what to do an how to move around, since your wrist is broken

It’s actually super fun because he knows where all the traps are and which ones you’ll like, so he subtly guides your character through the gameplay process to get the best possible experience, and you actually end up enjoying this more than playing solo

(As a joke, he once offers to let you play with him. As in, you use your nonbroken hand to control the left side of the controller and he controls the right side, but that turns out to be a hot mess and you both quickly abandon the idea)

Even after your wrist heals, the two of you continue to spend boatloads of time together

This boy even stops calling you “normie” at one point

Real subtle about it but he tries to convince you not to go back into society again. Like ever.

“What if you get hurt again?” He asks when you tell him you’ve made plans with Asmo to go shopping

“Then we get to spend even more time together, all over again!”

Cue leviathan/blushingmess.exe

Satan

Probably the ONLY brother to have actually known that it’s possible for humans to break bones

Why?

He read about it in a book once

Still, that doesn’t stop him from visually flinching when he sees you writhing on the ground after being shoved into a bike rack by a lower-level demon, clutching your arm which is disfigured so awkwardly that the bone is popping out

His demon form manifests immediately, and he’s about to rip this demon to shreds when you desperately call out his name, and then he’s more preoccupied with helping you than he is with beating this demon to death

(Inwardly, though, he’s quite relieved that you stopped him from killing the demon immediately. Now, he’ll get to spend the next four millennia torturing the creature slowly, keeping it just an inch from death until he’s satisfied that the demon has paid for injuring you so severely. :))

Runs over to you immediately and pulls you onto his lap, quickly muttering an enchantment that will temporarily numb the pain

Proceeds to ask you whether you want him to use magic to forcefully heal you or if you want to heal the human way

Will respect your wishes 100% no matter which you choose

Throws himself into reading and studying human medicine as soon as the two of you get back to the House of Lamentation

By the end of the month, he’s an expert on human anatomy (and where human strength lies on a comparative figure to demon strength)

Takes it upon himself to watch out for you, threatening any demons who express behavior that isn’t excessively cautious

Starts walking with you and Mammon to and from school

Keep it lowkey, but the truth is that he doesn’t trust his brother to fully make sure that you’re safe so he takes it upon himself

Doesn’t really panic too much, he knows that you getting injured was more the demon’s fault than it was yours

Is actually very considerate of your feelings in all this

Consciously makes sure that he doesn’t treat you too differently, not wanting to make you feel like he thinks you’re weak. But he no longer trusts other demons around you, and after getting your permission, he casts an enchantment on you which prevents lower-level demons from touching you without your explicit consent

Smiles devilishly every single time one of them tries to shove you in the hallways of RAD and gets sent flying 30 meters backwards in response

Devilish smile intensifies when he finally gets around to kidnapping and torturing the demon who dared to push and injure you in the first place

Asmodeus

He’s worried about you for a good hour

Not to say he’s inconsiderate

No, he’s understandably concerned immediately after he sees you on crutches, and when you come home with a broken foot, he’s immediately hanging out with you and completely (read: barely) restraining himself from making flirtatious comments in case you’re still in pain

The second he realizes that you’re fine as long as you don’t apply pressure on it, a switch flips

Now that he knows that the fracture isn’t going to spread to the rest of your body and destroy you from the inside, he’s overwhelmed with how cute it is that you need his help to do basic stuff

And honestly, you kinda vibe with it

He’s the shortest brother, so you having to ask him for help to get things off the shelf because you can’t stand is a rarity, and he is living for it

He lives with six overlords of hell, so the feeling of someone asking (no matter how reluctant) him for help in simple stuff like climbing up or down the stairs is something he absolutely cherishes

The second he realizes how good it feels to do stuff for you, he’ll never stop

Will 100% put Mammon to shame in how frequently he starts hanging by your side

He thinks of everything even before you do, always making sure that when you guys sit down, you have everything you need to be occupied for hours: from water to nail polish to the latest gossip at RAD, this man will make it his life’s mission to be the perfect prince while you’re injured

Seriously spoils you

Even when you finally heal and get better, he doesn’t stop helping you

Actually has the nerve to start complaining when you try to do stuff on your own

“You’re going to hurt yourself! Let me do it for you!”

“Asmo, I’m microwaving popcorn”

It doesn’t matter if you shower him with 'thank yous’ or if you grunt in annoyance every time he sits down next to you with an item you were about to get up and look for, he knows you appreciate the things he’s doing and that’s all he needs

Effectively gives you the royal treatment, occasionally putting Barbatos to shame with how diligent he is in helping you out

It never stops, even months after you’ve made a full recovery

Then again, who are you to complain? ;)

Beelzebub

Suddenly becomes terrified of his own strength

He’s there as it happens, and the way your face immediately contorts in pain right before you bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming will really never stop haunting him

It doesn’t help that you get injured from something that would usually be considered child-safe in the Devildom - a small windup toy which your fingers had gotten stuck in before two of them snap completely

Man is by your side immediately

The pit in his stomach isn’t caused by hunger but by genuine fear as he watches Lucifer and Satan soothe you with magic

He wants to run over to you and wipe your tears away, but should he? How can that be a good idea? He’s easily 1000000000x stronger than that toy you were messing around with, and what if he accidentally hurts you?

He knew it was possible for him to kill you before, but now he realizes how easy it would be - so simple that he might not even realize it

Instantly steps back and begins avoiding physical contact with you, trying his hardest to be there for you emotionally but struggling because every time you ask him for cuddles, he awkwardly changes the subject and looks away

He only comes clean to you about his concerns after you get mad at him and plant yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his head angrily as you demand that he give you affection

“Beel,” You mutter, a light pout forming on your face. “The reason you’re strong isn’t just because you have the muscles, it’s because you have control. You’ve never hurt me before, and nothing you do will hurt me now, so stop being such a stubborn goof and hug me”

Cue very hesitant hug

But it’s a start, and he slowly becomes physically close to you once more

(Subtly tries to let you stay in charge, though. He’ll initiate hugs, but you’re the one to squeeze tightly, and he’ll simply follow your lead)

Decides that rather than being afraid of what his strength can do, he’s going to use it to his advantage - and he resolves to become even stronger so that if there’s ever anything that can cause you pain, he’ll be there by your side protecting you, whether it’s against a demon strong as Diavolo or another windup toy from Majolish

Gets into the habit of running his fingers over your hand after it’s done healing, checking for scars and making sure that you’re still completely healed

Slowly develops into handholding - and who is Beel to complain? If he’s holding your hand, he’s by your side, and if he’s by your side, he can better protect you, so there’s no problem there

Belphegor

Quietly blames himself

It apparently happened while you were alone, and you fell down the stairs in the House of Lamentation. But Belphie is 99.99% sure that you were only going up to see him, and if he had just been awake, this never would have happened

Not to mention, this was the second time he had caused you pain, and it wasn’t even intentional!

Boy can’t look you in the eyes properly after the incident

Starts forcing himself to stay awake and isolates himself in the attic

Only when Beel finally gets serious and asks him what’s wrong does he quietly confess his thoughts, and his twin is quick to relay the information back to you

Honestly, you’re lowkey relieved when you hear the reason

You were beginning to think that Belphie was avoiding you because he had grown tired of your company, and the thought was sort beginning to break your heart

That doesn’t stop you from yelling at him for being inconsiderate

“This is why you need to talk about your feelings, Belphie!”

“But— “

“No buts!”

Honestly, he’s kind of relieved to see you yell at him so animatedly despite the cast around your arm, it makes him realize that although you’re physically injured, you’re mentally fine

Is very hesitant about napping on you, especially since he knows that if he falls asleep and accidentally shifts into a position that hurts you, you won’t be strong enough to stop him

You flick his forehead and tell him to not to be stupid, insisting that he sleeps next to you like usual, and he very hesitantly leans on the shoulder of the opposite arm you injured

Becomes way more considerate, even when tired

Shift in your sleep? He’s awake, checking to make sure that you aren’t uncomfortable or in pain

Wake up and try to get a glass of water? No problem, Belphie will get it for you, just stay here and sleep tight

Hogging the blanket? For the first time, Belphie doesn’t even mind, he’ll just carefully snuggle closer to you, double-checking that you’re comfortable before drifting back off to sleep

Even after the cast comes off, he’s still conscious about how tightly he grips you and how much physical exertion you put your body through, always reminding himself that, above all, you’re human and your body can’t handle the things his can

Solomon

Groans

That’s right, thanks to an awkward fall, your toe is broken, and this wizard boy has to audacity to groan at the sight of you on the floor, tears in your eyes as you clutch your foot through your shoe

“As if those brothers don’t hate me enough as is,” He grumbles, lifting you to your feet and whisking you back to Purgatory Hall, where he goes full medic mode and inspects the damage

Tries his hardest to convince you to let him fix it with magic, but just last week, he accidentally turned you into a cat while attempting to place a strength enchantment over you, so you’re understandably hesitant as you refuse him

As expected, when the brothers find out, they put him through hell (pun intended)

For not being able to protect you while it happens (they ignore his complaints that it was technically you who fell and injured yourself) he is now tasked with your recovery

Aka he is your slave

You make him carry your books when you go from class to class, you make him buy you lunch from the cafeteria, you make him give you his lecture notes whenever you don’t feel like paying attention in class

Hell, if he weren’t such a god awful cook, you would probably make him take over your cooking duty, as well

“This is abuse” He huffs one day, sighing in irritation after you ask him to go fetch you a glass of water

“I’m sorry?” You ask, feigning innocence. “What’s that? Did you ask me to go tell Lucifer that you aren’t treating me properly?”

Grumbles under his breath in six different languages, cursing you out in each one of them as you wink at him

You’re almost sad when your toe finally heals, and he’s finally free

Thankfully, the two of you somehow grew used to each other after spending so much time together for so long, and (much to the brothers’ displeasure) you continue hanging out with Solomon long after you’re off crutches

Will tease you about it when it’s all over

He doesn’t forget about how you lorded over him for as long as you were injured, and thus takes it upon himself to make sure that you don’t get hurt again under his watch

(At least, that’s what he tells himself as he holds your hand to march you down the steps outside Majolish, not letting go even after the ‘threat’ is passed)

Simeon

confusedangel.exe

First and foremost, how did this happen??

He’s so concerned and shocked when you show up to RAD one day in crutches because you broke a bone on your leg

Didn’t know that was possible

Actually goes home and spends half an hour on the Devildom equivalent of Google trying to maneuver his phone and search up how common this is and whether it’s normal for humans

Accidentally opens the images tab and sees a bunch of super disturbing and painful-looking injuries, and he nearly drops his phone altogether

Instantly assumes that your injury is as bad as those, despite your constant reassurances that you’re fine as long as you don’t apply too much pressure

Lots of pampering

He’s suddenly available 100% of the time for you, no matter what he’s already doing or the time of day

Insists on helping you wherever he can, like holding your stuff for you at RAD, ferrying you from class to class without forcing you to don that heavy rucksack

Even takes over the responsibility of walking you to and from school

He doesn’t quite understand that your injury is physical??

Like he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re mentally unaffected by the injury, because angelic injuries are typically so difficult to induce and severe that they always cause some kind of trauma

He’s always testing you - double-checking that you remember facts from old lectures, holding up fingers to test your sight, even asking you details about himself every now and then

That’s actually the story of how you accidentally told him that you thought his eyes were prettier than the sky and he still hasn’t forgotten it

Never really forgets about your injury, even after your crutches are long gone

Protectiveness goes up by 5000%

He suddenly becomes acutely aware of the fact that you’re surrounded by demons and, although the brothers usually mean well, he becomes impossible concerned for how you’re faring

He expresses his concerns to you one day really sweetly and you’re so touched because ??? How can someone be this pure???

To ease his concerns, you both start hanging out a lot more - when before you mostly hung out at the RAD library before parting ways, Simeon now invites you over to Purgatory Hall more often and you bring him back to the House of Lamentation so that he can see how safe you are with the brothers

Luke

Just like Simeon, there’s so much confusion going on inside this smol bean’s head

Are you really telling him that you??? the person who has taken it upon themself to be protective over HIM??? are so weak and fragile??? that tripping over a pebble was enough to fracture your jaw???

The roles in your relationship are suddenly reversed

(Or well, Luke tries to reverse them)

He does his best to be there for you instead of vice versa, insisting that you no longer need to save him from the brothers when they make fun of him for being like a chihuahua

Lowkey, he actually earns their respect for how protective he’s suddenly being over you, but the baby can only go so far because - face it - he’s basically ten years old

Doesn’t let that stop him from shooting dirty looks toward any demon who looks at the bandages on your face twice

Immediately goes home and researches what kind of foods you can comfortably eat, and enlists both Barbatos and Beel’s help in cooking soft dishes for you that you’ll be able to eat, despite your injury

Does his best to help you where he can

Takes over your cooking duty at the House of Lamentation

Takes extra-detailed notes so he can lend them to you after class

Even goes as far as to get high-quality Celestial bandages with natural healing properties and gives them to you, hoping that everything he’s doing will make your recovery a little bit faster

He’s really come to look up to you as an older sibling, so seeing you injured (even if you don’t necessarily show the pain) has him seriously torn up inside, and it takes all his effort to keep a straight face every time he looks at you and sees the bandages on your face

If you’re even a little self-conscious about any scars afterwards, he will spend hours convincing you that you look fine (and in truth, he can’t actually see the scar anymore, so he’s being honest)

Long after you’re recovered, he will remember at the most random times that you’re so fragile despite always looking so strong, and it tears him up inside

Because of this, random, tearful hugs become the norm

Occasionally, one look is all it takes before his eyes are welling with tears and he’s burying his face inside your stomach, holding you tight and promising to “protect you to make sure that you never get hurt again”

Very innocent, very sweet

Never fully forgets ever again just how fragile humans are

Barbatos

Knew it could happen

Was sort of prepared for it to happen

Didn’t actually expect it to fucking happen

This is probably one of the only times where he regrets not using his powers to check and see what the future held - literally, it would have been so easy to have saved you had he known it was coming

Went to Diavolo asking to switch timelines but the demon lord said no

Highkey becomes incredibly protective of you, just in super subtle ways

You suddenly find yourself invited to Diavolo’s palace much more often, and it’s Barbatos who now entertains you, bringing you there under the guise of asking you to “taste the new recipes” he’s attempting to perfect

Pfft, his recipes are already the definition of perfect - the only reason he’s putting that food in your mouth is because he cast a spell on it, and it’ll make your bones stronger

Dodges all questions when you ask about it, real slick

“Barbatos, isn’t this the same dish you gave Beel when we came here last month?”

“I’m afraid I have no recollection of what you’re talking about.”

“You know, the dessert you gave him after he asked you for the biggest banana spli—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time. Let’s get you home, now, before it gets too late”

Used to walk in front of you when walking you around the palace, but he now walks behind you so that he can watch you in case you trip

I mean, why wouldn’t he? You managed to break your collarbone while jumping down the stairs in Diavolo’s palace - you clearly can’t be trusted to look after your own health

(lowkey also never leaves you unsupervised around Mammon again, who in hell thinks it’s a good idea to try parkour of all things in the castle of the demon lord??? and encourages it?????)

Finds it incredibly endearing when your injury renders you unable to do basic tasks

Like if you were a helpless human in his mind before, now you’re less independent than an unpottytrained demonchild, and Barbatos is living for it, especially since you’re too stubborn to ask the brothers for help, so you turn to him instead

Absolutely loves when you text him for help

[17:39] MC: barbatos?

[17:40] Barbatos: Yes? Are you in need of something?

[17:40] MC: ...i was walking around the House of Lamentation and i accidentally banged into the wall outside Satan’s room and there was a really big sound and it turns out that i knocked a bunch of his books off the shelf and he comes home in half an hour and please help he’s going to kill me if he sees what happened

[17:40] Barbatos:

[17:41] Barbatos: I’ll be right there.

Diavolo

Oh boy

This man has lived a long, LONG time and never in all those millennia has he been as pissed as he is now, seeing you sheepishly lean on Mammon for support with the nearly all of your leg hanging limp

What he can’t grasp is the fact that this actually happened in school

Like, it would be one thing if a demon had injured you out of spite - he could simply punish them for all eternity and eradicate the root of the problem

But for you to be injured this severely? In spellcasting class, no less?

Instantly fires the teacher who was careless enough to let you walk into a casting circle which almost obliterated you whole - and spends ages commending Satan for having the wit to save you before things got even worse

But that doesn’t stop him from using the full extent of his princely power to ensure your continued safety

Instantly moves you out of the House of Lamentation and into his own palace, ignoring Lucifer’s repeated requests for you to not be moved

“I need to make sure they’re comfortable,” He hisses to his right-hand man, almost to Barbatos’s amusement. “The healing process for humans is long, and I need to make sure that they get better without the distractions your brothers provide”

Makes it painfully clear that if you ever get injured again under an RAD teacher’s watch, nothing will be able to save them from the unforgiving flames of his wrath

Starts spending as much time with you as humanly possible

He always stops by your room in the afternoon, generally to check on your well being and to inquire on how you’re faring, but those conversations always seem to wrap up late at night, long after you’ve both abandoned the original topic at hand and are lost in discussion over something else

One time, when he was feeling particularly guilty after looking at the painful swelling on your leg, he invited you back to his own room to sleep on his bed because - as the acting king of the Devildom - his bed is literally the most comfortable place in the world and he hardly uses it

You sleep in it once and can never sleep anywhere else again

For more reasons than one

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(Reluctantly) offers to let you move back into the House of Lamentation once you’re completely healed, but celebrates like crazy when you tell him that you’d much rather stay with him, and it becomes SUCH an ego stroke every time you remind him how much you adore it in his palace

Lowkey grateful that you got injured because it was the catalyst that allowed you both to grow close

But will absolutely make sure that nothing of the like ever happens again

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splatsys-sizeshift-shenanigans · 3 years

Note

Prompts open pog?? Anyway, G!Wilbur and H!Techno noms plz (if you’re comfortable with that (also anon asks aren’t on))

hopefully I got the anon ask thing situated lol, thanks for letting me know they were off!!!

im not the best at writing wilbur or techno but i will try my best! (This is being said before writing)

All the writing will be under the cut!!!

TW FOR: Soft, safe vore, unwilling, but still safe, vague digestion mention (though nothing happens), swearing

Unconventional Rescue Method

WORD COUNT: 647 WORDS

Techno growled under his breath as he gripped his sword. He was backed into a corner and surrounded by mobs, trying to think of something to do. He didn’t have a pickaxe on him and had no way to build out of the hole he was stuck in. The voices were going nuts as well, which didn’t help his thoughts in trying to get out. ‘Escape. Blood for the blood god. Cornered. Flee. RUN.’ Techno glanced around his surroundings as he attempted to block out the voices, huffing before tightening his grip on his sword and preparing to fight.

The piglin hybrid was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of mobs, looking up as he heard a loud thump from the top of the cliff, grunting as the voices continued to shout. ‘No way out. Dying. TECHNOBLADE NEVER DIES!! Lost cause.’ Techno sighed, closing his eyes as he awaited death. His eyes shot open as he heard a loud thud in front of him, stumbling back against the wall at the sight of a giant hand reaching for him. He lost grip of his sword as the hand wrapped around him, struggling. “What the hell?! Let me go!” He swore under his breath as he was lifted higher, continuing to struggle as he glared up at his captor. The brunette giant looked down at Techno with an apologetic look in its eyes, bringing him towards its face and opening its mouth. Techno’s eyes widened as he was brought towards the giant’s maw, struggling in an attempt to escape.

The voices went wild as Techno was forced into the giant’s mouth, causing him to have to forcefully block them out as he tried to find a way out of the situation, cursing as he fought against the tongue starting to coat him in saliva. ‘Going to die. Being eaten!! PANIC PANIC PANIC. Fight back!!!! Trapped.’ Techno continued to struggle as the voices continued screeching, wincing as he started sliding towards the cavernous throat. He closed his eyes tightly as he was swallowed, the area around him tightening and pressing in on him as he struggled, trying to get the giant to choke and spit him out, trying to block out the loud sounds of its heartbeat and breathing as he passed the heart and lungs. The second Techno slipped into the giant’s stomach, he started fighting back extremely aggressively, punching and kicking at the stomach walls until he was exhausted. He heard the giant breathing heavily, having to cover his ears from how loud its heartbeat was, even with it being quieter now that he was in its stomach. He grumbled as he heard the giant speak, huffing. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry if I scared you, but I panicked and didn’t know what to do or-“ “Just- try to calm down man. Your heartbeat is stupidly loud when you’re panicking.” Techno interrupted the giant as it spoke, basically snarling the words. He was pretty relieved, to say the least when the giant’s heartbeat slowed down and seemed to quiet down. “Sorry, sorry. This is a really weird time to be saying this, but, uh, I’m Wilbur.” He huffed as the giant- now Wilbur- spoke, rolling his eyes. “Cool, cool. I’m Techno. So am I just gonna die in here, or-” “Oh god no, you’re not gonna die, you’re in my storage stomach. You humans, not knowing anything about giants.” The area around Techno shook as Wilbur chuckled, making Techno stumble. “I mean, the only thing we were taught is that if a giant sees you, you’re gonna die, we weren’t taught about the anatomy of you guys or anything.” He countered, earning another chuckle from Wilbur. “Nah, I’ll let you go once I get out of this ravine. Speaking of, why the fuck were you in a ravine without a pickaxe?” “I forgot it.” “Eh, fair.”

WOO! I FINISHED IT!!!

sorry it took so long! my adhd brain couldn’t decide on an idea (this oneshot’s title changed like 5 times in the writing process and i scrapped at least 3 half-written things before I finally settled on this one DBBDHDNDC) so it took a decade lmao. I really hope you like this

also you get a first ask award now lmao

alSO, first vore oneshot on this account lets goooo!

#tw vore #tw digestion mention #cw cursing #mcyt g/t #tiny!techno #giant!wilbur #i had a lot of fun writing this!!

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insomniac-dot-ink · 3 years

Text

Is it wrong to lie to children?

A personal essay on reconciling with a shitty childhood and the question: is it wrong to lie to children?

It’s perplexing to have a shitty “unorthodox” childhood because initially I tried to throw out everything about It. Toss out the plumping and the rafters and the roofing, dispense of every single part of my upbringing I could get my hands on and not look back. Naturally, this approach didn’t work. It wasn’t even a real possibility. You’re still haunted by it, a ghost in the bones of a house, a foundation that remains long after the builders have left. That’s part of recovery too, to look at that ghost, to look at those bones, and keep saying: I see you, I see. I let you in. You sit with it and accept, accept, accept.

The really terrible part of this, the part where I don’t throw away the baby with the bathwater, is that you then have to raise the thing, deal with it. You have to do the hard work of parsing through the endless bits of self and placing them in “keep” piles and “discard” piles. I want to keep my mother’s kindness. I want to keep my father’s sense of humor. I want to discard the isolation. I want to discard the delusions.

But then there are these weird . . . “I don’t know” things. The things I am unsure if they helped me or hurt me. As I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten more and more of those “I don’t know” categories piling up. I’ve worked my way through most of the more obvious ones and now it’s all grey and mushy and as cloudy as a London winter. Recently, more than anything, I’ve been grappling with the fact my mother believed it was wrong to lie to children. She believed, in her flower-child way, that it was unethical in all forms.

I never believed in Santa Claus. I’m sorry to say I was a pretty obnoxious kid too because I would preach on the playground about how there was no Santa and there had never been any Santa. Which was a bit harsh, but in my defense I was under the impression these people were suffering from some sort of collective mass delusion. They were being lied to. And lying was wrong.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

I’ve known about sex since I was around 5 years old. I don’t remember why I asked, but it was something about where babies come from and so on. Most parents talk about a stork or love or some other abstract side-step. My mother described the anatomy to me and showed me a scientific diagram of the process. She told me that a sperm meets an egg and fertilizes it so the baby can grow. I learned most of this in scientific terms and was surprised when none of my middle school friends knew how a penis worked.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

When I was 9 or so our cat was eaten by a coyote. I asked my mom where he went and she said that he accidently got out the night before. She said they looked for him all morning, but it was too late. She didn’t use the word “gone” or “passed on” or “he’s in a better place now.”

She said he was dead. I said oh. She asked if I wanted to see him. I said yes. For the record, I am not actually sure if 9 year-olds should see corpses. That is neither here nor there. It was something that stuck with me though, the body of my cat with his tummy ripped out. I had never seen intestines before. His eyes were open.

But there was something cathartic about digging the grave. About helping pick up his little stiff body by the feet and placing him inside. There was something about piling on the red dirt as the sun set and letting the tears fall.

People on sitcoms hate talking about death. It’s understandable, it’s not funny, it makes for good dramatic irony when the kid asks “Where’s Socks?” and the parents go “Uuuuuh. He ran away.” I’ve never felt more alienated at those points. My cat died. He was eaten. I saw his body, and I buried it. Sometimes I think I wouldn’t want to be told he ran away-- that he had a choice in whether or not he left me.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

For a long time I thought the entirety of my childhood was wrong and bad, because I was miserable and broken at the end of it. I will assure you, my parents fucked up time and time again. But sometimes I have to stop and keep asking: Was this the wrong part? Was this the part where they fucked up? Was any part of this valuable? It’s a hard process to comb through an entire life and decide which bits are worth keeping, and if there are any silver linings.

So here is one: I am an honest person. I am a crooked person too, unsure of where to place my feet in social situations, picking my way through others normalcy. I do not readily share information, I am not forthcoming, and it’s a slow burn for me to open up about anything.

However, I notice time and time again that strangers will share personal things with me. I don’t mean for it to happen, but there’s just this pattern in my life. I once went on a car ride with a girl I barely know from my debate team. She described how she wanted to lose her virginity, she wanted it, but was scared God would be angry. That she’d be dirty afterwards. I told her that that was impossible, sex was just an act, it had no eyes, it had no priestly robes, or bearing on her soul. She cried. She said she hadn’t told me anyone this before.

I had a friend in high school who was struggling with an eating disorder, people had tried to get her to talk about it before, but I was the first person she admitted it to. In the hallway, sitting, just discussing nothing, and out it comes: I’m scared to eat sometimes. I was on a city bus and an old woman struck up a conversation with me. Over an hour or so, and she ended up telling me her fears for her own daughter going away to college. Her fear of growing old and passing on. Her problems with sleeping as she lay awake and dreaded it.

People have told me about their problems with substance abuse, their struggles with sexuality, and childhood trauma. People spill to me and I sit there thinking: Why? Sometimes I think it’s my gender or just how people are, but it always feels like I’m missing some part of the picture. Why do people open up to me, unprompted, all at once? Why me?

Is it wrong to lie to children?

Recently, I was reading a memoir set in 2001 where two young kids ask the narrator, their mother, about 9/11. They asked what happened to the people on television who were jumping off the building. Where did they go? The mother says this: They were caught. There are people-catchers that flew and saved them. Everyone is okay.

This story was meant to be heartfelt and lyrical, relatable. It ended like this: It is the job of mothers to offer gentle lies.

I had to stop reading because I was suddenly lost in a white-hot rage, unexpected, knee-jerk. How could she do that? I found myself frothing. They trusted her with answers and she lied. How could she? I knew it was irrational. It was silly even. This was a sweet story. It was meant to be heart-warming and framed in a way that suggested this is what all mothers do. This was what they needed to do.

I felt my own mother, pumping through my veins, furious that these elementary school students were being betrayed. I stopped myself of course, I knew it wasn’t reasonable. I wasn’t raised “correctly.” I had no legs to stand on.

But still, is it alright to lie to children?

I am once again faced with that unending dilemma: how to throw-out those parts of myself that don’t work and keep the ones that do. It’s difficult to say, because in some ways I agree with my mom. How can I not? But death is cruel. Sex is weird. Santa Claus is a beautiful lie.

And what’s wrong with lying? I still don’t know. What’s wrong with letting them never hurt? Never knowing the pain or gross parts of the world? What’s the harm in letting them make-believe?

But sometimes I think about all those people who have cried to me. All these unprompted confessions come with an unspoken plea: I hurt. I am afraid. I am so scared. It’s all so heavy, these painful truths.

And some part of me stands there, the part my mother raised and says: there is nothing in this life that is too shameful. There is nothing in this world that is unnatural. There is nothing in this life to lie about, even to children.

Is death too painful? Is sex too gross? Would you tell an adult that a man lives in the North Pole and watches them?

I asked my mom, years later, when I was less furious and able to talk with her again without screaming, about why she believed all this. She had told me about it since I was very young, but I never asked why. She shrugged. She said: children are people, aren’t they?

I still don’t know what to do with this.

Children are people, but they are not adults. They shouldn’t be exposed to “adult” things, right? But is that line so concrete? Is the word “adult” just a mask for the greater word, the one we really mean? We all agree: honesty is good. Lying hurts. But it’s alright to lie to kids, because in many ways they aren’t people yet, they aren’t people yet, they don’t count.

I am admittedly an argumentative person. I was on the debate team, mock trial, United Nations, I studied political science in college and fought with every single one of my professors I thought was wrong. And I stood in that playground, age 6, and told every single one of my classmates Santa wasn’t real and I wouldn’t stop. The truth was important. And my mother, no matter what, thought I disserved it.

I often felt tiny and powerless as a kid. Terrified and holding myself together by shoestrings. I often felt there would be nothing better in the world than to be grown up. Not for the money or the dating or the job, I just wanted to feel like the hurricane would end. That one day I could stand on solid ground again. My friend often says: I wish I could be a kid again, ya know? No responsibilities. Just bliss. I want to be a kid again.

I can’t relate. I never have. I’ve been busy weeding through the pipes and lighting and the carpentry of my upbringing and asking myself: is any of this worth keeping? Is any part of me built correctly? There are no right answers.

But still, I am haunted. I sit and ask myself in circles: is it alright to lie to children?

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

My book 🌟 Ko-fi 🌟 Patreon

#personal essay #nonfiction #creative nonfiction #writers on tumblr #story time

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loverdrew · 3 years

Text

Just A Little Longer | s.r

(not my gif)

Synopsis: A day out on the field doesn’t go as planned, and Y/N is thrown into am ambulance to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital before anyone can help.

A Grey’s Anatomy x Criminal Minds crossover.

Warnings: none (?)

There was a ringing in the air louder than the one you hear everyday. I felt my breathing hinder. My eyes can only open so wide, enough to see the light, but once by my side, could see only a dark substance quickly oozing out of my body. As I came to, I could tell it was getting harder and harder to breathe, a sharp pain with every inhale and exhale. Upon instinct, I checked my fingers for mobility, feeling that they could move slightly. At least this means I am not paralyzed in my upper body. There was no other noise for a few more minutes, just a slight rustling of trees and the dirt road beneath me. I don’t even remember the initial shot being taken, whether it was from me or him. All I remember is instantly falling to the floor once I arrived on the scene. I just laid in my own blood, the realization that no one may be coming for me.

“Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!” I could faintly hear from what felt like a mile away. My brain perked at the voice, definitively Morgan, but my body would not react. I tried with every might to move my limbs once again but alas, nothing. It was if my brain was screaming and sending pulses to my muscles but it just refused to move. I started to feel hands all over me, lifting me and placing me on what I could imagine was a gurney, as it moved. My sense of hearing coming in full force, beginning to hear people talking and shuffling. Hotch and Morgan were asking where I was being transported to and Emily and JJ consoling someone else who I could hear was practically sobbing.

“They’re going to take care of her, c’mon let’s just go follow them now!” Emily yelled to everyone. But that distressed someone fought back.

“No! She’s not even moving! They’re intubating her! Emily she’s dying!”

Spencer....?

“Reid, you want to help her? Get out of here and go to the hospital.” Hotch firmly said, I could even tell he probably put his hands on Reid, as the sound of prominent footsteps were halted. And the next thing I heard was doors closing, and the sirens blaring.

Once we had arrived at the hospital, I heard a woman’s voice that sounded very strong, like she was in charge.

“What do we got?” She asked.

“GW to the left ribcage, she’s lost a lot of blood, almost 2 pints. We’ve been intubating her since we got to the scene but Bailey, it doesn’t look too good. Possible head contusion when she hit the floor as well.” The EMT stated.

“Alright I’ll page Shepard and Hunt immediately. Out of the way everybody! FBI agent coming through!” And my gurney started moving even faster, winding down a short hallway into a room where I could hear many doctors coming to look at my wounds. I felt absolutely helpless, not being able to communicate what hurts for me. What if they miss something? What if they can’t help me in time? The EMT said I lost a lot of blood, what if it’s too much to come back from?

“Hang 2 units of O neg now!” A man with a deep voice yelled out. I could feel big, callus hands turning me on my back, and the next thing I knew a needle was being shoved in my arm and a warm sensation filling my arm.

“Owen she needs to go up to CT now or she’s not going to make it.” A woman with a softer voice spoke next to the man.

“Amelia she needs this wound patched first or she’ll bleed out and then she won’t even have a chance in CT.” He raised his voice at her, kind of like how Hotch can be sometimes.

“Let me see, I can patch quickly if everyone gives me space. Looks like the bullet left through the back as well.” This time it was another man with a softer voice than the first, and instantly felt his delicate hands holding onto my ribs, feeling a metal substance touching my skin. By my analysis, he’s most likely a plastics surgeon. Only a man in plastics has such delicate touch.

“Well hurry Jackson she’s got about 10 minutes before that brain contusion completely debilitates her and she’ll be in a coma.”

“Yea I got it.” He said nonchalant.

The sounds of beeping and shuffling were quickly interrupted by deep screams, of which belonged to the lanky pretty boy. My heart rate instantly got faster the second his voice entered the room.

“Sir, sir who are you?” The plastics guy asked urgently.

“I-I’m her, her uh- I’m just a friend, please let me be next to her.” He pleaded, rasp in his voice. I can tell he had been crying the whole ride over.

“Okay, sir you’re gonna have to wait with everybody else, she’s in a lot of distress and she’s lost a lot of blood. We’re doing everything we can for her.” Almost on cue, my heart monitor started spazzing. The loud beeping indicating I’m going into cardiac failure.

“She’s in V-fib, get the defibrillator now!” The man with the lower voice yelled. I felt the clothing on my body being ripped open, a few buttons popping and flying off. The patches were on and in a few seconds, I felt the shock and I could feel it vibrate every vessel inside me. They cleared a second a time, my heart rate returning to normal.

“Okay Jackson you’re gonna have to finish her later she needs a head scan now.” The women voiced, and immediately I could feel the gurney being whisked and into an elevator, going up to the CT room.

Being in the big machine and hearing the slight “ZZZ” sound felt like the first time of peace since my brain fully woke up. For a few hours now I was being poked and prodded, not even getting a chance to hear my own thoughts. This was the only time I got to really savor whatever life I had left, to really hear and feel the people I love around me, and to prepare for what could happen. It felt inevitable to try and escape death, it was a part of my job. And the one regret I’d have is not being the real me with the person I loved most in this world. That tall, pretty, incredible genius was the love of my life for the past 3 years I’ve been with the BAU, and he was everything and more I could’ve ever dreamed of and better. I could physically feel my heart aching at the way his voice cracked yelling for me. I wished nothing more than to look him straight in the eye and hold his hands, telling him I’ll be okay. The way he stuttered when he said friend, so unsure. We had kissed just a few days ago, after a long day of work he came by my hotel room and finally expressed his feelings after so long. The fireworks we shared were something out of a book. The way his hands fit around my face, holding me so close and so softly as if I were glass and he was afraid to break it. We hadn’t talked about it since, but we figured we had more time. But now I realize time is never guaranteed.

Within 30 minutes I was in a regular room, the plastics man working on sowing back up my wounds. “You, Ms.Y/N are one of the luckiest gunshot victims I’ve seen; no severe tears. Which means this just needs a quick stitch and you’ll be all set.” He said softly to me, I could feel a smile on his face as he spoke.

I heard another person walk into the room, footsteps almost so quiet.

“H-How, how is she Dr.?” He was shaking.

“The CT showed some swelling but no internal bleeding. We’re going to keep her here overnight but I’m sorry, I don’t know if and when she’ll wake up. That’s all up to her.” The women sadly spoke, unsure of even her own diagnosis.

I heard Spencer start to cry again, a loud puff coming from deep in his chest.

“Dr. Reid, could you please sit with me.” The two of them stepped to sit in the 2 seats next to my bed.

“I know what it feels like to be in a field of study where, you know everything there is to know. And I also know what it feels like to be completely out of control in that field, when you know what to do, but you can’t even do it.” She sighed. “I am one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, I know almost everything...but yet I had a brother who died of a brain injury. I could’ve been there to help him but I couldn’t do a damn thing. I know what this feels like.” Reid started crying harder, his cries muffled by his own hands. He was trying so hard not to let the sounds leak from the room, but it did and it made my bones stand still.

“I had a mentor who was in a coma, and even though I’m in plastics”- (told y’all) -”there was still nothing I could do for him. We just had to wait. He was one of my greatest friends, one of the best people you’d ever meet, so loved. The love of his life died in front of his eyes and I think most of us knew he’d be going next, to be with her. Life was too painful without her. Do you love this girl right here?” Spencers respond came almost immediately.

“More than anybody or anything.”

“Then wait, just a little longer. If she loves you like you love her she’s going to fight to wake up and be alive.” Both of the doctors walked out, leaving me and my lover boy.

His veiny hands grabbed onto mine, rubbing softly at my knuckles.

“I’m gonna do what he said, just wait a little longer. But please Y/N, if you can hear me, come back to me.” He cried into my hand, the tears coating it.

As if the Gods granted it themselves, I moved my eyelids open. Very slowly, and it hurt to do so, but they opened. Spencer sensed movement, and his head instantly came up holding on tighter to my hand. A weak smile placed on my face as my tired eyes loving locked with his.

“Waiting for me?”

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler imagine

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jobrookekarev · 3 years

Text

One Step Forward and Three Steps Back

Chapter One of Six

Words: 2783

Summary: Jo wants to marry Alex more than anything, there’s just a few hoops she has to jump through before she can make that a reality. When she finally takes the plunge to free herself from her past, it all comes back to haunt her.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson, Jo Wilson/Paul Stadler (Past).

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Stephanie Edwards, and Paul Stadler.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences,

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Assault, Drinking, Alcohol, Divorce.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: Updates Bi-weekly

……………………………………………………………………

“Let's make a baby,” Jo said as she walked over to him, offering up everything she had to him.

“What?” Alex paused, truly looking over at her for the first time since he came into the loft.

“You said that you wanted a baby, and you would make an amazing dad,” Jo said, she knew that this was what he'd wanted for years now, and if that's what he wanted, she could be ready. “And that's what you're worried about, right, that I'm not all in? But I am. And I love you.”

The second her fingers touched his cheek, he pulled away. It was something he had never done before. All the times they had fought before, he had never pulled away from her touch, and him doing so now truly scared her.

“Are you gonna tell me why you won't marry me?” Alex asked again, staring deep into her eyes as if he could read the answer in her face.

“I told you that I love you,” Jo said, but when she wouldn't answer him, he just turned away and went back to packing his things. “And that I'm not going anywhere. So isn't that enough? Can't that be enough for you?”

“You know, I was with Mer this morning, and I was thinking, the two of us, we've been through hell. You know, all kinds of drama, crazy family stuff, we both almost died, losing people we love.”

“No, you're not losing me,” Jo interrupted him, she wanted him to know that he wasn't going to lose her, and she didn't want to lose him.

“The point is, we grew up. Mer and I are grown up,” Alex said, turning around to look back at her. “We got through it. And hell is behind me. It's in my rearview mirror, and I'm not going back. I'm done.”

“Alex, please,” Jo begged him, the last two words rang in her ear and broke her heart in an instant, but she held back the tears. It wasn’t the end, it couldn’t be.

“I'm not, I'm not, some idiot kid anymore, Jo. I'm a man, and I'm done with games. I'm done with, with crazy. I'm done with losing. I'm done with drama. I don't care about your secrets and your excuses and your drama. You know, I've had that,” Alex said, and he was right. He shouldn't have to put up with her drama and her secrets, and she wished she could spare him from it all and tell the truth, but she just couldn't.

“Alex, if we could just,” Jo pleaded with him one last time.

“I just said I don't want to do this!” Alex screamed, as he raised his voice, she grew quiet. “I, I have never had one second of anything real my entire life. I want truth. I want, I want a wife and a house and a family! Amelia and, uh, Owen's wedding today, I want that!”

“I can give you family and a home,” Jo pleaded, trying to get Alex to say.

“But you won't be my wife?” Alex yelled as he stopped throwing the rest of his clothes in his bag to look at her.

They had fought before, but not like this. He was so angry, but Jo wasn't frightened of him. She was, however, frightened to tell him the truth. She knew he deserved the truth, but she couldn't give it to him. Jo knew what Alex would do to Paul when he found out. She knew because she saw how mad he got when she had shown up on his doorstep after her fight with Myers. She knew that if Paul even looked at her wrong or dared to lay a finger on her, Alex would kill him and she couldn't live with herself if she caused that.

“I, I can't,” Jo whispered, her words coming out in a painful breath.

She wanted to explain or at least give him a part of the truth. A part of her was protecting him from his own anger, but another part of her had held the secret for so long and, every time she tried to say it, it was like the words were trapped in her head.

Alex looked so disappointed as he shook his head before he grabbed his bags and left. It broke her, it broke her to see Alex walk away like that. Jo sat down on the bench, held the pillow to her chest as she cried. After everything she had done to get away from Paul, changing her name, leaving behind all of her friends, including the boy who is like a brother to her, and starting over in Seattle. He was still ruining her life and her relationship with Alex.

She had thought about divorcing Paul for the past few months, ever since Alex proposed. She had contacted the lawyer that Arizona had used for her divorce case. Michelle had shown Jo her options and it all seemed easier than Jo realized. She had also dug up Jo’s medical history from her time with Paul. With the clear evidence of domestic abuse, Michelle said she could help Jo get an emergency protective order. It would go into effect right away, and then a domestic violence restraining order would protect her during the divorce proceedings and for the rest of her life. Michelle said that because of their separate lives, it would be an easy divorce. She had drafted the papers and sent them over to her, all they had to do was sign them.

Jo didn't know if Paul would make this easy and sign the papers, or if he would drag it out for years, but she wanted to try. She tried to tell herself that with the restraining order and a lawyer on her side, she could do it. Jo wanted Alex to be by her side, but now Alex was gone, and he would be gone for good if she didn't divorce Paul.

She went over to the liquor cabinet. Jo grabbed the bottle of the hardest rum they had and took a swig. It burned her throat as she drank it and Jo took as much as she could before she put the bottle down. If she was going to do this, she needed as much liquid courage as she could get.

Jo made up her mind. She was going to divorce Paul.

She pulled out her phone and called Michelle. Michelle set up an appointment to meet with her the following day and said she would get the ball rolling. She would file the emergency restraining order and finalize the divorce papers that had been sitting in her drawer for months. Michelle assured her that she would have a restraining order against Paul at the end of the day and that she would be protected. Jo thanked her and quickly hung up.

Jo had always kept tabs on Paul just in case. Which was good because she knew that he was in Seattle giving a talk at the University of Washington. The past few days, she had felt trapped in the loft because of it, as she feared he would see her when she was out and about or at the hospital, but now she could divorce him before the weekend was over and Alex would never know. Then she could say yes and marry Alex. They would be happy and Alex would never know. Paul would never ruin his life because of her.

Jo took a deep breath as she looked down at her phone. She was drunk enough to think that this was a good idea and before she knew what she was doing, she had dialed Paul's number. But, of course, he didn't pick up, Paul didn't pick up any strange numbers. Hearing his voicemail was enough to send shivers down her spine, but the liquid courage had given her enough strength to speak and leave him a message.

“Paul, it's me, it's Brooke. I want a divorce. I'm leaving you for good. I found another man and he's wonderful. He's better than you ever were and I want to marry him. So I want a divorce. I'm in Seattle. I work at Grey-Sloan Memorial and I live here. I live at 4196 Cale St. I know you're giving some stupid talk at U-Dub, and I’m sending you the divorce papers, and you are going to sign them. Because you ruined my life enough and you don't get to ruin it any more.”

Jo hung up and she smiled. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she felt free, freer than when she was driving away from him all those years ago. Finally, she felt truly free.

Then Jo looked around the empty loft. Alex wasn't there, he had left, and she was all alone. Jo sighed, taking another swig of the bottle. Then she texted Stephanie to meet her at Emerald City Bar. Jo needed her friend and there was no way she could spend the rest of this day sober.

……………………………………………………………………

“Hey, what are we drinking about?” Stephanie asked, appearing at the bar and sitting next to Jo.

“Alex is gone,” Jo said as she leaned against the bar. She was genuinely drunk now and was suddenly second guessing everything that she had done. “I had the love of my life, and I just, pssh, pushed him away, and now he's gone. And I’m doing it, I’m finally doing it, but I already lost Alex, he's gone.”

“Okay, this again,” Stephanie said as she took a swig of the beer the bartender gave her. “Let's not overstate this. He's just living at Meredith's.”

“Steph, you didn't see his face. He’s gone,” Jo said, looking over Stephanie and seeing her face, Jo suddenly realized what she had said. “Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. He's not gone-gone. Kyle is gone-gone.”

“Making it worse,” Stephanie said as Jo leaned over to put her arm around Stephanie and lean her hand on her shoulder.

Stephanie shook her off and Jo decided to shut up before more words fell out of her mouth. In her endeavor to divorce Paul, it was like all her walls had finally come down. The truth slipped from her tongue like a bar of soap between her fingers.

“He just kept asking me to marry him again and again,” Jo said as she picked at the peanut shells on the bar and tried to throw them into the bowl. “I just couldn't say nothing anymore, you know, so I just, I just said no.”

“You could've said yes,” Stephanie said, taking a sip of her drink and shaking her head as if it was as easy as that.

“I should go home. I need to go home,” Jo said, reaching for the bag next to her and getting out.

“What? No, you cannot drive home,” Stephanie said, getting up and chasing after her. She tried to grab the bag as Jo turned away from her.

“No, stupid, I'm gonna call. I'm looking for my phone to call a goober,” Jo said, looking through the bag and trying to find her phone. “I can't marry him. I want to, but I can't marry anyone.”

“Why's that?” Stephanie asked in her rude and sarcastic voice what made Jo realize what she had said.

“Just 'cause, none of your business,” Jo yelled, looking back at her.

“Okay,” Stephanie said, holding up her hands and leaning back.

“God, where is my. Oh, my God!” Jo paused, and she looked down at the strange purse in her hands. “This isn't even my purse.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and took the purse from Jo's hands, replacing it with Jo's own bag. “Here, just wait, and I'll call us a cab and you can tell me all about why you can't marry Karev.”

“I can't marry him because I'm already married,” Jo said, the words slipping off her tongue. She guessed she was done hiding the truth.

……………………………………………………………………

“Okay, you can't just drop a bomb on me like that and then not say anything else,” Stephanie said as they walked into the loft, and Jo stumbled over to the couch before she caught Jo around her waist and led her over to the bed. “Okay, come on, time for bed.”

Stephanie left her on the bed and went to grab a cup of water. This was the last thing she wanted it to be doing, but Jo was her best friend, and they were both going through it right now. Cleary Jo had some deep dark secrets and Stephanie would be lying if she said she wasn’t immensely curious about it.

“I was living in my car. Did you know that I lived in my car?” Jo said, stumbling over, reaching out to put her hand on the table. It seemed Stephanie couldn't leave her for a second and she reached out to grab Jo again.

“Yes, I know all about your street kid days,” Stephanie said, trying to grab ahold of her, but Jo pushed her away, and she was surprisingly strong for a drunk girl.

“And then I met him, and I wasn't living in my car anymore. Everybody loved him, I did,” Jo said, undoing the button to her jeans and pulling them down her legs.

“What are you doing?” Stephanie said, putting her hands on her waist and glaring at Jo. Everybody always joked about how drunk people acted like toddlers and Jo was certainly acting like a toddler right now.

“I'm gonna go, I'm gonna go to bed,” Jo said as she stumbled over to the bed before apparently changing her mind and leaning against the post. “He never wanted anyone to stop loving him.”

Stephanie paused and sat down on the bench at the end of the bed, watching Jo for a moment. Jo had never mentioned anything about past boyfriends, much less a husband. She watched as the tears collected in Jo's eyes as she started to sob and she could sense why Jo had never mentioned him before.

“So if I, I bought the wrong something he would, he would hit me in my face or my stomach. Nobody knew that but me. So, so I ran. I had to make sure he would never find me.”

“And if you try to divorce him,” Stephanie trailed off, still trying to take in the news of Jo's abusive husband.

“I'm trying to divorce him, but he’ll never sign the papers, I'll never be free of him,” Jo said, putting both of her hands on Stephanie's shoulders and staring into her eyes.

“Can’t you get a restraining order or something?” Stephanie asked, watching Jo pull away from her. “Does Alex know about any of this?”

“No, no, Alex would try and protect me, but he can't. I have to do this on my own. He doesn't even know my real name,” Jo said as she stumbled over to the bed.

“You should tell him, he'll understand. Alex is a really good guy. Okay, so we're going to get naked now,” Stephanie sighed as Jo unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor. “Just keep your panties on, okay.”

Jo didn't say anything else as Stephanie grabbed onto her waist and pulled her over to the bed. They both ended up stumbling and falling on the bed together and Jo laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Stephanie rolled her eyes and got up to grab the covers. As she looked up, Alex was standing in front of her in a rain soaked suit.

“What's so funny? Alex asked as he smiled and came around to sit next to Jo on the bed.

“We fell,” Jo laughed, closing her eyes and pulling the covers over her head, still giggling from underneath them.

Alex looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and Stephanie just shrugged. “She's drunk off her ass.”

Alex nodded and put his hand over Jo's back, rubbing up and down as her giggles ended and she seemed to settle in. Stephanie got up and grabbed Jo's shirt from the floor before grabbing her jeans, tossing them both in the hamper.

“You came back,” Stephanie said, looking back at Alex.

“Yeah, well, Jo’s earned the benefit of the doubt, and whatever reason she has for not marrying me, I love her too much to let her go.”

Stephanie nodded, she didn't want to spill Jo’s secret, especially now that Alex was back, but she didn't want him to leave Jo again. She saw how messed up Jo was all night and Alex wasn't even dead. Stephanie loved her friend enough not to want to put her through that again.

“She has a good reason for not marrying you. I won't tell you what it is, that's her job, but it's a good reason, and she’s trying to make it right,” Stephanie said as she folded her hands together.

“Thank you,” Alex said, nodding at her before he looked back at Jo and leaned down to kiss a little bit of her head that was still peeking out from under the covers.

Stephanie wobbled as she took another step towards the door, realizing how drunk she was now that she didn't have Jo’s drunkenness to compare her sobriety to.

“Do you want to crash here?” Alex offered, taking off his wet jacket and tie. “I'm going to hop in the shower, but I'll take the couch if you want to take the bed.”

“Sure,” Stephanie said, dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes.

She had slept over at the loft enough times with Jo that this was normal. They would have a girl's night and fall asleep on the bed, and Alex would come in and sleep on the couch. In the morning, he’d make them a hangover cure and waffles and Stephanie loved those waffles. Alex hung up his wet suit and went to take a shower and Stephanie crawled into bed. Jo would still giggle occasionally, but eventually, they both fell asleep.

……………………………………………………………………

Jo woke up to the sound of someone banging on the door to the loft. She rolled over to lay on her back and saw Stephanie sleeping soundly beside her. Her best friend had always slept like a log and she would sleep through her alarm if she was tired enough. Jo got up before she went to the hamper and pulled on her shirt.

“Alright, Alex I’m coming,” Jo said as the banging continued, despite how late it was she figured Alex had forgotten something. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, but Alex wasn't standing on the other side.

“Hello, Brooke.”

#jo wilson #alex karev #stephanie edwards #jolex #grey's anatomy #otp: home and heart #grey's anatomy fanfic #paul stadler #jolex fanfic #my work #my writing #my fanfiction #OSFaTSB

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rustedhearts · 5 months

Text

severed lamb: part v: sunday mourning (pastor!steve x fem!reader)

summary: your encounter with pastor steve leaves you feeling ill. he pays you a visit to make you feel better, and in doing so damns you a little further down to hell.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♰ severed lamb ♰ ♰ the library ♰

tags: religious imagery/trauma; age gap (steve is 35, reader is 19); manipulation; coercion; abuse of power; more god guilt; smut; depictions of vomiting; perversion of religion; this is literally so gross and i am ashamed.

a/n: merry christmas, ya filthy animals :)

♰ wydgate, georgia, august 1981 ♰

The night after rainfall was always scorching hot.

You clicked the ceiling fan on high and put the box fan in your window to cool down the carpeted room, but nothing could soothe the itching fire in your veins. You frantically kicked at your sheets and twisted around, pounding your clenched fists on the mattress at midnight.

When you closed your eyes, all you saw was Pastor Steve in the darkness. Touching you, kissing you, making noises, and pulling pleasure. The way his fingers prodded inside you and had your stomach quivering. Parts of you thrummed with desire for more of his attention. Other parts shuddered in disgust. The parts where you clung to God, you supposed.

And God always prevailed.

Sprung from your bed, you scrambled for your bedroom door in the inky darkness. Feet padding over bare, sticky flooring in the emptiness of night on your way to the bathroom. Your knees thumped to the floor before the toilet, and into the bowl you spewed a day’s worth of sustenance.

Burning your throat raw, leaving a sticky film over your lips and teeth, splattering into the porcelain bowl—you didn't stop until you were heaving nothing but drool and air. You collapsed back against the tub, knees pressed to your chest. How was it that you were still aching between your thighs? Pastor Steve's Godless infiltration into your thoughts seemed to have no bounds.

You pushed to shaky knees and flushed the mess down. The wobble back to your bedroom came with bumps and bruises against the walls, and you barely remembered slipping back under the sheets and laying down your head.

♰ ♰

In the morning, the heaviness of your head and stiffness of your neck were immediate cause for alarm. Was it possible to genuinely make yourself sick with worry? Blinking your eyes open came with a dull, pulsing pain that made you wince.

“Delilah? Delilah Anne, what are you still doin’ in bed?”

Your mother came rushing into the room, shrilling as she went. The curtains were drawn and the sun came blaring in, causing you to slither under the covers and whine.

“Feel sick, Mama.”

“It’s Sunday, Delilah, we’ve got church. Get your sorry ass outta this bed.”

Her hand yanked at the end of your covers, and you fought against her pull with clawing hands. She huffed and snatched at the top this time, successfully uncovering your head.

Though a scowl played on her mouth, she paused at the sight of you in disarray. Your clammy skin had lost its color, eyes swollen and bloodshot. Your mother's hands found her hips, clad in a bright yellow dress for church.

"Well, good Lord, child."

You swallowed down a sore and aching throat. "I threw up, Mama."

"I can see that," she replied plainly, lips pursed in dismay. An irritated sigh shot from her mouth. "Fine, you'll stay here. But you better pray long and hard that you're feelin' better for mass later on."

Flicking her hair out of her face, your mother spun around and clicked out of the room on uneven heels. You brought the covers back around your shoulders, curling up under your chin. Tinkling and rustling emerged from beyond the bedroom door, and soon the front screen yawned with your mother's exit.

In her absence, the house sagged with relief. The open window cast a beam of soft morning light across your feet. Birds twittered their hellos, cicadas shook out their wings and readied them for a day of screaming, and the wind was butter soft. You let your eyes sink shut and listened to it brush over the grass outside your window. Rustle the cherry tree leaves. Shutter the arms of the windmill in the backyard.

The thought of missing church for the first Sunday in ages left you waning with unease—but the relief of not having to see Pastor Steve soothed the sting. You could not sit in a pew and watch him spew Godly utterings knowing what he had done to you. Knowing how he made you feel. A pleasure so boundless, so infinitely blood-rushing that it made you ill.

It was wrong. It was a sin.

But here, right now, it was quiet. Finally, you didn't have to think...

♰ ♰

You woke sometime near the afternoon, the sun in a full blazing mood. The room was blinding with an almost white hue, stifling with an increase of heat. You stirred under the covers with a disapproving squeak, and it was as you shifted that you heard a noise in the living room.

"It's so kind a' you to do this, Pastor Steve. Lilah's gonna be so relieved she didn't have t' miss out."

Slumber swept from your body in like cool breeze, leaving you in a fully aware consciousness that snapped painfully. The floorboards creaked with their padding feet, approaching the knob of your door. You wished you knew how to disappear on command.

"Lilah? Lilah, you got a visitor," your mother called through the wood of the door, her voice much sweeter than you ever knew it to be.

The door chittered on old hinges, swinging open to reveal two bodies you had enough of. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, suddenly regretful for not feigning sleep. In your periphery, a flash of black accompanied a blob of yellow. Pastor Steve abandoned his cloak back at the chapel, stripped down to the tight button up and clean slacks of casual worship. The white plastic collar of his uniform fit snugly against his throat.

"Hello, Delilah," Pastor Steve cooed.

You curled your fingers into fists beneath the blankets. Turned your head an inch, caught sight of his crisp sleeve. "Hello."

"Forgive her, she's feelin' real poorly. D' you want some sweet tea, Pastor Steve?"

Pastor Steve flashed a smile at your mother. "No, thank you, Lorraine, that's real kind. I think Delilah and I should have some privacy for her mass."

"Of course." Your mother fluffed the ends of her hair and fixed her posture. She hated being snubbed of a man's attention, let alone Pastor Steve's. She looked at him like a hound looks at a pork chop.

She made slow work of exiting the room, and you turned to follow her movements through the door. Your lips parted to speak, to beg her to return and exclaim your sudden wellness—but your tongue would not move. She pulled the door shut with a resounding click.

Now alone, Pastor Steve turned to face you in the bed, cradling a black bag to his chest. He inhaled deeply, chest ballooning with breath, and let his eyes rummage the sight of you. You squirmed against the sheets, fingers pulling at threads under the blankets.

"Couldn't have you missin' your chance to worship," he declared, and the bag against his chest clinked with vials and other accessories.

You shifted again. He stepped closer, a smile hemming his mouth gracefully. You glanced at his fingers gripping around the bag—those long, slender digits browned by the sun. You squeezed your legs together at the memory of what those appendages could do. The sort of pleasure they could bring.

The bag added weight to the end of your bed near your feet, which dipped a little sideways when Steve placed himself on the edge beside you. The warmth of his palm encompassed your head, and you winced under his touch like it scorched you.

"How're you feelin'? Hmm?"

He held a softness in his face with the ease of breathing air. Hazel eyes rounded with care, plump pink lips holding the slightest of pouts. It was always difficult to decipher just what he was thinking. Just when he would strike with more mind-jumbling, confusing affections.

"N-not good," you whispered hoarsely.

Steve's other hand approached your cheek, the back of two fingers gently sweeping down to clear away moistness. He stroked them up and down in small languid motions, like caressing a kitten. He felt the heat of your flesh under his touch, how it flared with every breath taken under his attention. His lip quirked just barely—a soft boyish grin without teeth.

"Hope this don't have nothin' to do with me," Pastor Steve gasped, and that grin slipped into a frown. "Does it, Delilah?"

The blankets draped over your body, the weight of his bag at the end of the bed, the pressure of his body pinning down the edge of the blankets—it suddenly felt immeasurably stifling. Inescapable. You curled your toes and tightened your arms.

Always the good Southern girl. Always the docile lamb—the girl bred to say 'please' and 'thank you' under the blade of a knife.

"N-no," you breathed, head shaking against the pillow.

That soft little grin again, curling the corner of his mouth and pricking your nerves. Steve pulled back a little, hands loosening to limp touches against your face. He nodded slowly, approvingly.

"Oh," he whispered, tone akin to relief. "Good."

Your eyes were drawn to the surface of his mouth when his lips quivered between a smile and a sneer. You pressed further back into the pillow, throat bobbing with a noisy swallow. His fingers slipped down your cheek and into your hair to tuck it behind your ear. You tipped your head opposite his touch when the pads of his fingers traced a firm tendon down the side of your throat. You gasped in small, hitched breaths.

Pastor Steve's touch stopped at the delicate gold chain of your necklace. His fingers glided over the metal, following its path across your collarbones. You watched the door for the handle turning. It never came.

"Shall we pray?" he murmured.

"Yes," you gasped, foolishly falling for the guise of God's salvation under Pastor Steve's sinful implications.

But Steve pulled his touch away and stood to his feet. You fixed your head back in place and watched him cross his hands before his stomach. He tipped his head toward you, indicating recital. Your arms whooshed from under the covers to sit atop your stomach, fingers interwoven like his.

Pastor Steve nodded once, firmly, and closed his eyes. His chin tipped a little higher, shoulders squared straightly.

"Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name," he began, snapped from the syrupy coo he reserved only for you. It was unnerving how easily he slipped into a display of good standing.

Your mouth mimicked his words with habitual softness.

"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."

The prayer fell from your mouth without thought—but your thoughts, at this moment, were consumed with Steve. The way his throat moved when he spoke, how the thick veins squirmed and bulged under soft, freckled flesh. How his lashes fluttered between words, how his eyes moved behind their lids with discovery. The way his lips curled around vowels, how his tongue peeked through every so often to enunciate.

How you wanted him to touch you again, and how you hated yourself for it.

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."

"Amen," you murmured, fingers sore from their tight squeezing when they came undone.

Pastor Steve opened his eyes and directed them toward you. Your feet fluttered under the sheets, fingers fidgeting with loose threads over your stomach. He had to have mercy on you.

He was silent as he sank back down onto the bed, resuming his wrinkled divot beside your hip. His hand smoothed over yours, scaling your arm to curl his fingers around your elbow. He took small glory in the way your eyes expanded; the acuteness of your tiny breaths.

"Feelin' any better?" he inquired.

You licked over your lips and his eyes darted toward the flash of your tongue. Oh, now you were teasing, were you? His fingers pressed a little firmer into your flesh, body inching closer. His hip pressed against yours, padded by the covers.

"A-a little," you murmured. At this point, you couldn't quite decide if that were true.

Every part of you felt aflame, sweat gathering under your head against the pillow and behind your knees beneath the sheets. A certain, gnawing need flared behind your navel. The need you paired with Pastor Steve's handsome face.

Steve brought his hand to your cheek again and tsked sharply. "Hmm, think you have a fever, sweetheart. We can't have that, can we?"

His fingers reached into the folded hem of the quilt tucked against your chest and began to pull. Peeled gently off your body, knocking your arms aside where they laid limply at your sides. You trembled with every struggled breath, eyes locked on his pleasing face as he bared you to the open air.

His eyes fell to your chest immediately, forgoing the peaked tautness of your nipples to admire the crucifix attached to your neck. It spurred him with a sickening excitement as he pulled the thin cotton sheet down to your feet.

"There's an old fashioned way of breakin' a fever," he whispered, sliding a little closer until you had to tip your head back to see his eyes. "Ever try it, Delilah?"

The shake of your head came at no surprise, and Steve just smiled down at your flushing face. "Figures."

The hand lingering near your feet over the sheet came skittering up your bare leg. Softly, merely grazing with every inch it traveled toward the end of your satin nightgown. All the while, Pastor Steve watched you with careful consideration; with a gentle, coaxing gaze.

"How 'bout we try it. Hmm?"

The gentle parting of your legs had his eyes downturning toward your soft skin. You bobbed your head at him, fisting the sheets at your sides.

"Okay..."

He twisted then, facing you with staunch yet soft determination. His hand swept between your thighs, curling into the elastic band of your panties to pull them down the length of your legs. When they sat around your ankles, his fingers resumed their ghosting touches. Climbing up your calf, your thigh, reaching into the pulsing warmth pooling under your nightgown.

Your softness had him inhaling, greedily dipping the pad of two fingers into the gooey heat of your hole. You shot up toward the headboard with a gasp, muscles tightening with electric shock. Pastor Steve shushed you softly, free hand coming to cup the top of your sweaty head.

"Shh, you just relax," he fawned, thumb rubbing into your temple. "That's a good girl."

He watched his own hand under your nightgown, twisting and pumping, pulling bated breaths and writhing need from your body. He felt the softness of you around him, the slickness congregating between his digits and slipping down his palm. Your cheeks were swelling with such an intense heat that he felt required to kiss them both. Your hand curled into the buttons of his shirt, wrinkling the perfect smoothness of the starched fabric.

"P-pastor," you gasped, thighs quaking around his fingers. "W-what are you d-doin' to me?"

Steve reared back an inch, lapping in your dazed frenzy with wild eyes. "The Lord wants this to happen. He wants me to love you."

A whimper balled up in your throat, coming out as a breathless cry exhaled into his shirt. He watched you slide halfway into his lap like a poor little cat in heat, rubbing your cheek into his stomach with anguished breaths. He could feel the flutter of your approaching peak constricting around his fingers. He pressed his thumb against your swollen clit and watched you silence a sharp cry with your teeth against his thigh. He huffed a chuckle, free hand petting your hair soothingly.

"That's it, that's it," he whispered.

"A-ain't it wrong?" you huffed, pulling your teeth off his thigh and gripping tight onto his arm. "To love me like this?"

Steve gently rubbed his thumb back and forth and pressed his hand to your head to keep you from twisting. He held you against him with a sudden iron force. Sweat beaded at his hairline and under his collar. His arm began to vibrate between your legs. He took a quick glance over toward the door and prayed it didn't open any time soon.

"Not if God wants me to."

And like the astounding proclamation held some sort of power, you turned and buried your mouth into his lap as you gushed over his hand. Pitiful cries wept into his pants, mouth pushing hot air into his crotch and making him twist his fingers in your hair despite himself. He kept his fingers pumping until you kicked your feet in protest.

Steve slipped his fingers from your legs and brought them to the light. Slickness slightly pinked with irritation drenched his fingers and clung to the crevices he happily licked clean. Popping them into his mouth, he sucked himself free of you and let you catch your breath against his thigh. He relaxed his hand into another gentle, taming caress.

"Better hope your mama's asleep," he whispered, gently turning your head to reveal your wet cheeks.

He swept his clean palm over them to clear away the tears. You sniffled and quivered, caught somewhere between bliss and anguish. And Steve just scooped you up, adjusting your body to lie back in its place against the pillow like a prop. He tucked your hair behind your ear again and stroked your cheek. His head cocked aside to inspect your swollen mouth.

"Hmm," he mused softly. "You feelin' better?"

You nodded, fingers pulled over your mouth shakily. Steve pulled your hand down by the wrist, bringing it to sit under your cheek. He took your panties by the waistband and rolled them back up, adjusting your nightgown to sit prettily. He smoothed out the wrinkles and fixed the curled lace. The blankets brought a gust of cool air when he draped them over your body again.

"Now," Steve stood to his feet, eyes trailing the state of you and the mess he made. "You come by the church tomorrow when you're feelin' better. Got somethin' special for you."

Your nose jumped with a tiny sniffle. You hadn't moved from the position he placed you in. The smile on his face suddenly sickened you.

"Okay."

Steve gathered the bag, unused, from the end of the bed. He tucked it under his arm and smoothed the divot in the quilt. As he passed near your head, he stroked two fingers across your cheek again. You pinched your eyes shut. He hummed and swept his thumb across your cheek.

"Sleep tight, little lamb."

His footsteps receded, and the door clicked shut a moment later. The house creaked and groaned under his weight moving through it. You held your breath in your throat as you waited for your mother's voice.

But it never came. And when the screen door slammed shut, and the sun began to fade, you realized you were alone.

But God always prevailed, right?

♰ ♰

#rolly!#pastor!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #dark!steve harrington

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ao3feed-swanqueen · 3 years

Link

by bronzecrimson

Regina Mills had spent her whole life fighting Love, or Evil. When she was younger she fought for the love she had for Daniel, and tried her hardest to fight her mother's evil, ultimately ending in losing Daniel. For a while she tried to fight the evil that began festering inside after the loss, and she lost that battle too. Then, for years she fought the love that Snow White and Prince Charming had for eachother, doing everything in her incredibly vast power to try and ruin it for them. Everything she did fought off love, deep down she felt unworthy of it, even from her own son who she truly loved but still kept at arms length. When she met Emma Swan, it was different. Emma didn't even try to suck up to the mayor, she didn't care about Henry's stories of her evil doing, though she did believe him. She wasn't scared of Regina, so she had no love to fight.

It felt wrong, but for that very reason, Regina found herself with fondness for Emma. How odd, that the younger woman's lack of love caused the older woman to become fascinated. It felt wrong, and it felt scary, and Regina Mills didn't like feeling scared.

Words: 34302, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Emma Swan, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Prince Charming | David Nolan

Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan

Additional Tags: Emma Swan in Love, Pining, Mutual Pining, Secret Relationship, Relationship(s), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Trust Issues, Lesbian Sex, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Abandonment, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Confessions, Protective Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Protective Emma Swan, Kid Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), Scents & Smells, Shower Sex, Hospitals, Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Implied/Referenced Cheating, Complete, Stress Baking, Baking, Injury, Hair Washing, Grey's Anatomy References, References to The Office (US), regina uses coconut shampoo, OH MY GOD JUST COMMUNICATE, emma is such a goofball, so close to getting caught in the act bY THEIR SON, Vulnerable Evil Queen | Regina Mills, stress. so much stress., your honor they're in love, because what could go wrong when you invite the woman you're in love with to go out drinking???

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #swan queen #ouat

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gabriulio · 3 years

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Persona World’s Demon Encyclopedia - Day 6

Day 1 - Day 2 - Day 3 - Day 4 - Day 5 - Twitter thread

All entries can be found in my blog, tagged as “demonic compendium.”

I started this project with the intention of translation one entry per day, which sounded fine at first, but since it would take me forever to get through it, I’ve decided to increase the number to three per day.

When cases like Adramelech’s happen again (that is, stuff I’ve already translated in the past), I’ll do the same as I did before: post more than the regular daily number of profiles.

Anatomy

An original demon appearing in Ibunroku. It looks like an anatomical model that one can easily find inside a school’s science classroom, except it can walk on its own for some mysterious reason.

In the English language, the word “anatomy” doesn’t refer exclusively to anatomical models, but also to the study of the human body and its parts.

Anubis

Ancient Egyptian god with a jackal head. He was once placed at the center of Egyptian funeral rites, but as worship of Osiris, lord of the underworld, spread across the Mediterranean, people of later generations came to see him as less important, and so Anubis was demoted to the role of guiding the souls to the afterlife.

He’s also worshiped as the god of mummification and the protector of graveyards. Furthermore, Anubis also plays a role in the ritual of judging the souls of the dead that he guides.

Apaosha

A drought demon mentioned in Persian mythology. According to legends, he has the form of a black horse and tried to kill off all living beings by cutting off their water source. His main opponent was the god of water and good harvest, Tishtrya. The two of them fought in the cosmic sea, and once Apaosha lost, the drought was over and rain poured from the sky.

TOMORROW: Ah Puch, Abe no Seimei, and Apep.

#persona #persona 1 #persona 2 #shin megami tensei #smt #tagging it as smt cause this is about demons too #demonic compendium

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the-acid-pear · 3 years

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Tumblr refuses to let me reblog the post again, so this is the second part of me reading the second btg book! ☺️

Still Chapter 211

Son on son violence

Chapter 212

This dude pretty cute ngl

Shit, rip

AAWW HIGH 5 🥺🥺

It's almost like they are a regular father and son 😭🥺💔

Chapter 213

Look how thigh those shirts are hehehoho 🥴

OYXITSITDITDLTD

Ooooh there goes my man Jyaku ready to kick some ASS

🥺😭💞

Baki really just forgot his mom eh, thought you were getting stronger for HER smh

Oh Jyaku vs Retsu? Nvm Jyaku i can only hope Retsu is nice w you

I like how most are like, confused over who to cheer for lmao

I know he won't make it but I'm cheering for Jyaku btw i like him more <33

Chapter 214

Love that title, can't believe Jyaku is gonna ask Retsu out 😍 /j

He really is just honest Igari

I love that he apologizes

Chapter 215

OJFOYDITDISTOTDG

HIS FACEEE THIS FUCKING CLOWN 😭😭😭

THIS IS JUST SO FUCKING FUNNY

Chapter 216

Burgir

GHZJDUDDRHD THEY ARE SOOO MAD

That smile so cute...

Jyaku is a king

Love it when Retsu throws that pose, though y'all know why

HDGSSGSGF you are coming to Japan wether you like it or not 🔫

Chapter 217

Finally Jyaku got serious too

WITH HIS TOES 😭

King is just obsessed i luv him

HEHE HAIRY LEGS

It does seem like Jyaku is trynna confess his love jfnshdshdf

Chapter 218

I remember i almost laugh cry with my dad when we saw this

His damn beard... 💔

THE HAND OF THE TRAITOR

He has a good point

They be calling my man Jyaku a masochist noooo yfjdhdgs

Chapter 219

Okay seems kinda into it <:/

Old man? He doesn't look that old Baki :/

That was so smart 🥺

Chapter 220

Retsu calm down please you are gonna break his back

Oh my god Retsu, oh my god.

He did apologize at least

Chapter 221

Damn dude be a little more gentle with him

Oh, get was picking him up, okay

FR FR

🥺🥺🥺

FARHDHDYFTH THE KINGGG

Chapter 222

I love how everyone completed him (except Yujiro but not surprising), these warriors are such a good team

I want to eat an apple too now

That was fast

I got distracted watching a vsauce react video sorry

Okay I'm glad a comment actually mentioned Sik

Chapter 223

Had to take a uh idk 5 hour break bc lights went out :/

Feet be fuming lmao

Ohhh that's a cool analysis

Chapter 224

What a good punch

That "please",,,

Poor Li man, having to see his brother DIE /j

No, Viêt Long, i have not been hit by a truck before.

Chapter 225

It's so funny how Jyaku lost bc he fought a main charac and only those win

Sad day for the Chinese citizens

Mf got tits in his back

This is gonna be so goodddd

Chapter 226

Look at the size of his tits, the slut

INSTAGRAM INFLUENCER POSE WOOO

These two are cool fighters

Chapter 227

Old man showing skin

His smile is so fucked up lmao

Chapter 228

Baki what the FUCK are you wearing?

I just remembered when Hana did a flip, that was so good

Retsu babey 🥺

I love how confused Yujiro looks

Chapter 229

Hey, i recognize that name...

Kaku just too op

Yujiro you are gonna pop your testicles if you do that with your leg

Chapter 230

God that's such a good threat

Love Retsu's confusion

Damn bitch you saying we gotta keep up w this whore cuz you were too slow? Ffs Kaku 😢

I love when you can tell someone is still hanging around just quietly by seeing their response in a comment

Chapter 231

God this just feels so good, to see Yujiro actually scared 😍

YOOO THAT'S POG

Chapter 232

I wanna finish this book and start the next one grrr

This fight is so satisfying

That last bit is so cringe but whatever that's okay

Fight so controversial comments were deactivated

Chapter 233

Itagaki hincha de boquita el más grande? 😳 /j

Okay yeah it IS just rude

Hohoooo shit getting nice

Chapter 234

This asshole lmao

Yuji-chan really went "how many times do i have to teach you this lesson, old man?!"

Mfs be doing Jojo references in the comments lol

Chapter 235

GTFO WITH THAT LOGIC RETSU IM SORRY CHINA IS LOSING BUT GET LOSTTTT AJSGAJGS

Ffs Kaku you are doomed 😢💔

Yujiro so strong my mouse disconnected

Chapter 236

Abs in his back...

Crying and shaking that is NOT true

DON'T FEED HIS EGO, KAKU

LIONS CAN BE KILLED BY TIGERS TOO!!!!

I thought Yujiro was bleeding for a second there smh

Chapter 237

OKAY YEAH IT IS HIS BLOOD ITS COMING OUT OF HIS NOSE ITS NOT MUCH BUT HE BLED

THE HEAD APPLAUSE

HE'S SO UPSET LMAOOO

Yujiro surprised is good shit

GSJDUFTHSTD

KAKU YOU LEGEND LMAO

Kaku has boyboss energy

Chapter 239

This cover almost gives me a stroke

I love how they all just shat their pants

These minor Chinese characters were so good tbh, sadly i don't think they will ever return

Don't worry Retsu, we the viewers have seen a man revive before

King i don't think any of us understands

It really is

CAN MEN IN THIS FRANCHISE JUST OPEN BOTTLES REGULARLY?!

Oh my god i though Yujiro was sitting on the air for a second i almost cry 😭

Coca cola must have paid Itagaki /j

Chapter 240

Oh so the Kaioh part takes the name, not the surname

...is Yujiro wearing a floral shirt? 😭

I LOVE THAT ENDING SO MUCH 🥺😭

Jyaku has his eyes fixated on Retsu eh, proud of having him come to Japan lmao

Chapter 241

HORRIBLE fit Baki

CHILDHOOD SAGA PART 2? 😰

Jk though i do miss Yuri 🥺

Oh hey Jr

You gonna fuck his girl, bro?

Chapter 242

So straight forward lmao

I'm starting to appreciate Baki's feminist ass every day even more

AAAA GRANDPAAA 🥺🥺💞

This page didn't allow me to call two mfs virgins smh, 1984

Chapter 243

Grandpa they shrunk you

Chapter 244

Kings idc about this

Okay true but also he's 70 dude pls... Though idk if this guy will go thru worse than Jack lmao

Such a nice lad

Chapter 245

Baki being such a feminist icon is so meaningful considering how his parents were,,,

MY MAN IS BACKKK AND AS DAPPER AS EVER

Doppo he's called Ali Jr how are you surprised?

OH MY GOD I JUST REALIZED HIS EYE PATCH HAS A PATTERN THAT'S SO COOL 🥺🥺😢💞

These men love throwing their glasses eh

Chapter 246

If only Igari and Toba had done this lol

OKAY THATS COOL I LIKE THAT

Me lo re devaluaron a mí pelado eh

HEHE OOOOH NICE 😳

Scenes that give me a boner

CHU...

Such a good callback...

Chapter 247

My man got serious, sweet

Doppo has been trying out his luck a bit too much like he's been betting with his life an uncomfortable lot like king do you need to talk? Are you okay? First asking Gouki to kill him now this like, is everything alright Doppo?

YEAH A BIT FUCKED UP TO THINK ABOUT

I love that blocking technique

OSHWOWHIWWH "gay ass Orochi, out of option so he touching dick" SHUT UPPP 😭😭💀

I really wish he got kicked in the nuts again see if he's still using his technique

Chapter 248

Poor guys thought he was bout to get murdered

A kiss? 😏 /j

When i saw this in the anime i actually thought Orochi was going to die, i was gonna get sooo angry

Chapter 249

What a way to cockblock em

Feminist icon

Jack is that the only sweater you own?

Chapter 250

I have been thinking of that scene of him eating the whole steak a lot

Jr like 🥺

Imagine being stupid enough to tease Jack like, i get he defeated two masters but they are NOTHING compared to this monster

Imagine jack just smoked some weed right there lmao

Jack needs to bite people more

Chapter 251

My shitty ass son gave me parkinson's

Jack that's not how human anatomy works what the fuck did Kureha do to your body spine?

Chapter 252

DAMN JR WHAT A FAT ASS

Looked like Jack was going for a handful

Those techniques must fuck your neck up so bad

Okay Jack you are going a bit far now don't cha think?

Chapter 253

You are tempting your luck sunny boy

Look at that, you pissed him off!

You cannot just know out jack hanma bro

HHH

This was so stupid yet, unironically, iconic

Chapter 254

Bruh i thought it said Pog 😭, ain't manslaughter poggers Mr Hanma?

OKAY THANKS JACK

Such a simp he downed that coffee cup

Grandpa put here cockblocking

Chapter 255

"no he didn't >:/"

These two masters are a pair of fucking idiots like understand this i love my grandpa and i love my man but mfs have to take the L for this one time sksgwjgshgw

Gouki bro my senses gonna shut down if you put your sucks against the dirt again OUGH sensory hell 😭

FOR FUCKING REAL JR

STOP ENABLING THE OLD MAN!! WKSGKSGSJSHDD for once I'm on Viêt's side 😭

Chapter 256

Hoho Gouki out here getting a panty shot 😳

Grandpa i love you but this was unnecessary

Chapter 257

Kozue should wear a Korn tshirt

GET HIS ASS KOZUE

OWHWLWGISGSJWG 😭😭 MF JUST STANDING THERE LIKE A FREAK I LOVE HIM BUT I HATE HIM SM!!!

Love how consistently round his hands are, king got no knuckles

HEY DONT CALL MY MAN A FREAK KOZUE

King hasn't changed his clothes ever since i see

His shoes look so nice...

OKAY OKAY HE HAS A POINT AT LEAST, HE AT LEAST ACCEPTED HE LOST BUT HE'S STILL BUTTHURT FROM IT SKSGAJGS BUT HE ADMITS IT!!

Doppo i love you but shut UPPP you lost get over it!! You are just going for the rematch bc you have the higher ground against a injured guy!!! Like Shibukawa didn't have time but you were already getting serious!! Hhhgrrrrrr doppo i love you but I'm going to bark

Hehe nvm he still hella fine... keep talking king 🥴

This was so mean of him sjsgwjwg

Chapter 258

Low-key starting to believe these two mfs plotted against Jr sjshsj

THAT FACE AKSGWJGS just 😐

If i didn't know you would get your ass handed in a plate i would be a lil mad he's planning on being that savage

He has been thru worse, sunny boy

Niceee

Tbh. I don't care anymore. Doppo is in the wrong, but GOD I'm a simp and i love seeing him fight 😍😍🥴

Yeah a comment mentioned it, we all were on Jr side until he threatened to kill Doppo Orochi like, even if not everyone here is as horny as me we all like an og fella

I also love how the prisoners really changed them all, the scars (both physical and mental) those 5 left will be remembered lol

#luly talks #btg #i ran out of space but that's good cuz im sleepy and have 3% of battery lol #i wanted to reach chapter 260 but this works #14 last episodes for tomorrow woo #baki liveblog

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