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milfsloverblog · 10 months

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How Eve Felt (NSFW)

Jane Murdstone x Fem!reader

A/N: Listen, this is just pure filth. 1500 words of porn without plot. Nothing but Jane Murdstone smut. I started this WIP months ago and thought I’d never publish it but a few of you liked the snippet I shared, so... Anyway, enjoy <3

tw: spit kink, mention of Christianity related stuff (this is how I deal with my religious trauma)

✨ AO3 LINK IN TITLE ✨

You always tried your best to keep your eyes away from your lady’s flesh when you undressed her. That night had been no different as you only looked at your fingers working on the lacing of her corset.

Jane stayed quiet for a while, her eyes never leaving your reflection in the mirror as you worked behind her.

“You did say this was your first time working as a lady’s maid, didn’t you?” She asked, her voice as stern as it usually was.

“Yes, Miss Murdstone.” You nodded and carefully peeled the corset from her, folding it before placing it by her dress on the chair.

“In that case,” She said as she turned around to face you, cocking her head a little. “I cannot help but wonder where on earth you have learnt how to undress a woman so swiftly.”

You swallowed thickly. Your eyes had caught sight of the swell of her small breasts under her chemise and it instantly made your throat go dry.

What were you supposed to tell her? Oh, well, I have undressed my fair share of women, right before laying with them.

“Well?” She insisted. “Cat got your tongue?!”

You knew then by the smirk on her face that Miss Murdstone probably had a good idea of how you’d become an expert at undressing the fairer sex.

“I suppose I'm a quick learner, my lady.” You simply answered, hoping it would satisfy the tall woman’s curiosity.

Jane narrowed her eyes, silently looking at you for a moment while the gears turned in her head.

“Take my chemise off.” She eventually ordered in a bark.

It felt like she was testing you. Sure, this was part of what a lady’s maid had to do but the way she said it, it did feel like she was testing you.

You ended up doing as you were told, silently thanking your hands for not shaking too much when you grabbed the hem of her chemise and pulled the garment over her head.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Do not look.

“Look at me.” Jane demanded, your eyes immediately snapping from your hands to her face.

“I am looking at you, Miss Murdstone.”

“Look at me the way you really wish to.” She smirked again and you were sure your thumping heartbeat could be heard throughout the whole household.

You exhaled shakily and eventually moved your gaze from her eyes to her nose, then down to her mouth. What would it be like to kiss her? To lick over the scar on her lip? To have her tongue push into your mouth?

You spent a few seconds on the length of her neck, watching her pulse point steadily move up and down. From the look of it, she didn’t seem nervous about what was happening, at least not as much as you were.

Her shoulders were next, pulling a smile from your lips. It was a funny thing, really, for a cold and metallic woman like Jane to have such an inviting freckled skin.

Your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes landed on her chest, her nipples visibly hardening as you took in her pert breasts.

“Miss Murdstone, we should not-“ You were cut off by Jane’s hand roughly grabbing hold of your face, her fingertips digging almost painfully into your cheeks.

“And who decides on what we should or should not do, hm?” She asked, using a honey-dripping voice as if she wasn’t holding you with a vice-like grip.

“You, Miss Murdstone.” You whispered barely audibly, nearly letting a whine out when she let go of your jaw.

“Good.” She gave a slight nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened when you noticed that she was slowly spreading her legs. Her lips pulled in a devilish smirk seeing how your face twitched as you tried your best to keep your eyes locked on hers, knowing full well the sight that would be waiting for you if you allowed yourself to look down at her crotchless bloomers.

Jane had to admit that she was impressed by your self-restraint, many girls would have run for the door while some, fewer, would have touched her already.

“Kneel.” She barked, delighting in the way you slightly jumped at the unexpected order.

Your legs wobbled and you fell to your knees like a devotee praying at the altar. Your gaze inevitably fell on the wet pink flesh between her legs, your mouth watering at how inviting it looked.

“Well, do come closer!” Jane spoke as if she was in a hurry and for a split second you wondered if she was eager to feel you on her.

You did as you were told, crawling closer until you were kneeling between her legs and tentatively placed your hands on her covered knees. Jane raised an eyebrow at the boldness of your move but decided she would allow it.

“I assume you have done this before, haven’t you?” The woman asked, her chin never lowering as she looked down at you, making her appear even more condescending.

“Have I ever found myself between a woman’s legs? Yes. Have I ever knelt before one? No.” But I don’t mind kneeling for you. I don’t mind praying at your altar. I would spend the rest of my life on my knees if you asked me to. I do want to worship you.

“Let us make it a memorable first time, shall we?” Jane purred and her fingers took hold of your face again, gentler than they did before.

She tilted your head back as far as it would go and pried your jaws open, chuckling when you stuck your tongue out instinctively.

“Aren’t you a well-trained slut?” Jane cooed, gathering the saliva in her mouth and slowly letting it fall on your tongue, a wave of arousal coating her sex when your pupils dilated.

The older woman raised an eyebrow and, knowing exactly what was expected of you, you closed your eyes and swallowed. You couldn’t help but be reminded of your first Holy Communion when, kneeling before the priest, the sacred host had been placed on your tongue.

You almost let an Amen slip from your lips when Jane suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and your eyes snapped back open.

“How many women have you laid with?”

“Plenty.” You admitted in a whisper, wondering how many Jane had shared her bed with.

“Prove it.” She smirked, bringing your face closer to her cunt.

You didn’t waste any more time and dipped your thumbs into the warmth between Jane’s legs, brushing the tip of one thumb over her clit to watch the way her whole body responded. Jane jerked, hips canting forward, and you hid your grin by placing a soft kiss on the milky skin of her inner thigh. The woman’s breath hitched and you wondered if it was caused by her not expecting any softness from you (or anyone else).

Keeping your fingers holding Jane open, you leaned in closer, blowing lightly over her cunt before burying your face in it. You wrapped your lips around the woman’s clit and sucked sharply, Jane’s body jolting above you as a moan tore itself from the back of her throat.

The woman opened her mouth to speak but cut herself off as you sucked harder, drawing tight circles around her clit. Moving one hand from where you had it braced around Jane’s thigh, you pushed your thumb into her entrance, tugging at her opening and massaging inside of her. The streak of moans that escaped your lady’s lips made your whole body shudder.

Then suddenly her hand snaked back in your hair, holding tightly and so close to your scalp that you felt your skin burn. Jane pressed you so deep into herself you could hardly breathe. She had taken back control of herself, and of you as well. You fisted the material of Jane’s drawers and squeezed your eyes shut as your tongue was ridden, your lady grinding herself into your mouth exactly how she wanted, how she needed.

Feverish shivers ran down your spine, your knees slowly sliding open on the wood flooring. You wished you had tucked a pillow between your legs before this began so you could ride out your own pleasure as you dripped from having your face fucked. But your lady wouldn’t have allowed it, you were quite certain she enjoyed having you squirm helplessly.

Jane’s movements became erratic, her chest quickly heaving up and down as she desperately chased her release. And then you felt it. You felt her come. You felt the cruelest woman you knew come into your mouth, her clit throbbing against your tongue as she let a single loud guttural moan out.

As the hand on the back of your head loosened its grip, you slumped against the older woman’s thigh. And as you knelt there, half of your face slick and chin dripping with Jane’s essence, you wondered - is this how Eve felt, taking the first bite of the forbidden fruit, as pomegranate juice dripped on her naked breasts from her open lips?

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tag list: @mysteriouslysapphic @opheliauniverse @yourlocaldisneyvillain @notinmyvocab @h-doodles @teeniegreeniebeanie @katie-bennet @willowshadenox @bikergurl5 @renravens

#gwendoline christie #jane murdstone x reader #jane murdstone #the personal history of david copperfield #I felt so seen when you guys said you’d let Jane spit in your mouth #me when I get to the gates of heaven and they pull out this fic 😀#no beta we die like larissa #larissa weems x reader

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navybrat817 · 5 months

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Bucky needs to pay attention to me. 😤

I feel you, nonnie. 😂

Running on Empty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You had a long day and need Bucky to give you some attention.

Word Count: Almost 1.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), established relationship, dirty talk, humor, sassy reader, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me, lovelies), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Work left me in a mood, so apologies for this. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You huffed as you took a seat on the couch and wondered why you bothered getting out of bed today. Contrary to popular belief, Mondays weren’t always the worst. Naturally, the universe decided it would be fun to give you problem after problem today at work in retaliation for having a positive attitude. How you managed to get anything done outside of putting out so many fires, you had no idea.

And Bucky?

Your beefy, gorgeous specimen of a boyfriend had time to sit, relax, and reread his copy of The Hobbit for the umpteenth time. Manspreading in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. Not that you wanted him to have a bad day, too. God knows he deserved rest and relaxation.

But why was he reading instead of fucking the obvious frustration out of you?

“You’re staring at me,” he said, turning a page without looking up from his book. “Which I would say it’s creepy, but we both know you like looking at me.”

True.

You bit your lip as you unashamedly checked him out, wishing he’d lift his gaze so you could see the blue of his eyes. It was an impressive feat that his prosthetic arm matched his right arm in terms of the muscular form and structure, the fabric of his shirt stretching to accommodate his torso. It didn’t matter if he decided to hold you down with his flesh or metal hand, he loved to remind you of his strength as he pounded your desperate pussy, stretching your walls and driving into you so deep that you swore you saw the gates of heaven.

Maybe that was why you thought Bucky looked like Jesus when he was in Wakanda.

“Yeah, I am staring,” you replied, tapping a finger on your thigh when he hummed. “Because I’m trying to figure out why you’re reading instead of eating my pussy.”

Bucky waited a beat before he picked up the bookmark beside him, carefully slotting it between the pages before he shut it and gave you his full attention. “You mind repeating that?” He asked, his voice gruff as he tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He wore it down today, but kept a hair tie around his right wrist.

Perfect for him to pull it back when he went down on you.

He smirked and scratched his scruffy chin when you narrowed your eyes. You craved the burn it left behind when he rubbed his face against your most sensitive area. He knew that.

“You want me to spell it out for you, Bucko? Fine,” you said, leaning back on the cushions as you spread your legs and planted your feet on the couch. Your hands formed a perfect V by your mound, which might as well have been a neon fucking sign since you ditched your under minutes ago, as he tried to hold back a groan. “See this? I have a perfectly good pussy right here and it isn’t going to eat or fuck itself.”

Bucky ran his tongue along his bottom lip before he inhaled. The beautiful bastard was actually sniffing out your arousal. You almost wished you could go back in time and let the scientists know that the serum they created helped super soldiers use their heightened senses to get their dicks wet.

Not that you were complaining since Bucky eyed you like he wanted to devour you whole.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t realize eating or fucking your pussy was on my ‘To Do’ list today,” he said, purposely running a large hand over his crotch.

Fucking tease with his fucking massive hand and cock.

You pouted when he didn’t make a move to get up. “I am your ‘To Do’ list. I’m your girlfriend and I want you to do me because I had a long day,” you huffed, dipping your hand between your spread legs before you batted your eyes at him. “You haven’t fucked me in ages. It isn’t fair.”

Your beautiful man snarled at that, making you shiver as you teased yourself. You didn’t dip a finger in, but you did spread your growing wetness around as he watched. “I fucked you last night,” he reminded you.

“It feels like ages,” you corrected yourself. Thanks to him, you experienced what all-consuming desire felt like and you didn’t like going long without him having you. He couldn’t fault you for that, even if he did thoroughly wear you out the night before. “I’m so empty, Bucky, and I have this tight, wet hole for you to fill up. It’s all yours if you want it.”

His nostrils flared as he finally pushed himself up, his fingers flexing as you kept rubbing yourself with a sweet smile. “It’s my pussy,” he rasped, palming himself again as he stood in front of you. “And since she’s so needy that I can’t even finish a chapter of my book, stop touching her and let me get to work.”

Like you don't have a needy cock, big boy.

The growl in his voice brought a moan out of you, but you didn’t stop touching yourself. “Unless you mark it,” you began, looking him dead in the eye as you brought a glistening finger to your lips and traced along them like a gloss. “It isn’t yours.”

You managed not to smirk triumphantly when he took the hair tie from his wrist and pulled his luscious hair back. “She knows she’s mine. Bratty pussy just wants some attention,” he said as he dropped to his knees and leaned in to nose at your slit. “But I don't mind leaving my mark again.”

“Did you just call my pussy a brat?” You questioned, the last word coming out as a strangled moan when Bucky darted his tongue out, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

“No, I called my pussy a brat. Good thing I know how to tame her,” he said, winking up at you when you looked down. The playful look in his eyes made your heart swell. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. “Kisses are a good way to start before I pump her full.”

“A very good start,” you smiled, clenching in anticipation.

“And she loves my kisses,” he replied before dragging his mouth along your folds. The sensation that shot through you almost had your thighs clamping around his head, but it wasn’t possible with the hold he had on you. “I gotta say though. She's a messy little thing. Gets my mouth so wet.”

“Bucky,” you whimpered, tugging some of his hair free as he gently wrapped his mouth around your clit.

He hummed and lightly sucked on it before he pulled away, making you whine in protest when the sparks of pleasure fizzled out. “Speaking of kisses, I almost forgot.”

You gave him a small smile when he leaned up to tenderly kiss your mouth, letting him swallow down your moan as you opened up for him. It ended far too soon for your liking, making you loop a finger around his dog tags to pull him back to your lips. “Love you, Bucky,” you whispered.

On the days you practically ran on empty, you appreciated having someone like him by your side.

“Love you, too, baby,” he whispered back, his gaze soft as he slid back down your body. “Now hold on and let me make you and my pussy forget all about that long day.”

You knew he’d ask later if you were okay, but for now you’d let him shut your brain off and make you feel boneless.

And maybe you'd offer to warm his cock later as a thank you while he caught up on reading.

We all deserve that, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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autumnshighlady · 4 months

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Run For Your Life

Dark!Azriel x reader

summary: you have a stalker who has been following you for a while, and suddenly things escalate

warnings: DARK DARK DARK FIC! seriously, Az is a psycho stalker, dubious consent, oral sex (m and f receiving), voyeurism, masturbation, violent language, oh did i mention Az is insane in this fic

word count: 7.2k

see the playlist for this fic

this fic is the reason I'm never getting into heaven. y'all better enjoy it. let me know your thoughts! also it's heavily inspired by the book Haunting Adeline, which isn't a good thing haha. also none of this is proofread sorry lmao

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

seriously, this is a dark fic. consent is dubious at best, reader is definitely coerced. read at your own risk.

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Darkness began to creep in, the shadow of the mountains swallowing the edges of Velaris. For most people in the city, the evening brought a new sense of life to the community. They’d go out dancing at the various pubs, or browsing the night market in the town square. Shop owners would be headed home to their families, content after a long day’s work. Everyone in Velaris looked forward to the hours after dusk.

Everyone except you.

While the crowds rushed towards the city centre, you went the opposite way towards your house on the edge of town. You hurried down the winding path, the noise from the city growing faint. A cold breeze stung your cheeks, making you walk faster. You clutched your bag tightly to your chest, a faint yet distinct sound of footsteps echoing in your ears.

He knew how to be quiet, yet he was making noise anyway.

Your heart raced as the footsteps grew closer. You didn’t break into a sprint like your instincts screamed at you to. He had never hurt you, never even come close. It was a game he seemingly liked to play with you – make his presence known and set your teeth on edge, creeping closer only to disappear at the last minute. Every time you turned around at the sound of his footsteps, there wasn’t a trace of a person anywhere near you. At first, you thought you were going crazy. But after a few weeks, you realised it was him.

Teeth chattering in the wind, you pushed through the gate to your house. The footsteps behind you had vanished, but you knew he was somewhere nearby. Watching. You could always tell when he was there – the world around you seemed colder, more silent, like the quiet before the breaking of a storm that never came. You would get a chill up your spine, as if invisible shadows were gently licking at your skin. That’s how you knew he was there.

You closed the door behind you as you entered your house, fiddling with the seven locks you had bought and added to the door. You grabbed your bag and pulled out yet another lock, one that had cost you a pretty penny. The shop keeper had assured you that it had an ironclad spell on it, making it impossible to be picked or broken. But that didn’t matter, he would somehow find a way through it just like he had with the other seven.

After installing the heavy lock, you scanned your house’s main room. Nothing appeared out of order, everything was where you left it. There was no eerie chill in your house, indicating that your shadow had not been inside today. Content as one could be in this situation, you made quick work of getting ready for bed. Your stomach screamed at you to get something to eat, but you ignored it. Your pantry door creaked open, but you grabbed the handle and slammed it shut. You could tell that he disliked when you went to bed without dinner, but after the long day you had, you couldn’t be bothered to care.

Weary, you climbed under the covers, knowing that somehow he was still watching. Despite all your curtains being closed and windows being bolted shut, he would still find a way to watch. He never touched anything – you or anything in your house, which reassured you enough to drift into sleep.

Until the next day.

******************

You woke up to the smell of an omelette filling your nostrils. Blinking away the last blissful sensations of sleep, you sat up in bed and sighed before pulling on your fuzzy robe and waddling out to the kitchen. The fogginess around your head instantly cleared as you approached the counter, noticing a fresh veggie and cheese omelette sitting on a plate by your usual stool. A tall glass of orange juice was carefully placed next to it, and a bouquet of midnight-blue roses were perched in your previously empty vase.

Your stomach did a backflip. This was new. Your shadow had never done anything like this before – he had been content just to observe you, to play with your fear like a cat toying at a mouse. Evidently, he didn’t like being ignored. The rational part of your brain wondered if the meal was poisoned somehow, a trap designed to render you unconscious or dead. But some sick part of you knew that it was safe, and urged you to eat it.

You weren’t stupid, you knew he was a stalker. You were pretty sure you knew who he was, too. There was only one male in the Night Court with the ability to be so discreet. As an advanced linguist, the High Lord had come to you several weeks ago for help on decoding an ancient language from a manuscript. Alongside him was his spymaster, whose intense hazel eyes sent a chill down your spine much like the one that haunted you now.

If it was indeed the spymaster who was your shadow, then you had no hope. He was the best there was when it came to spying – there was no chance of anyone being able to help you. Not that you’d told anyone about it. If you had, they would never believe you.

So you accepted your fate, doing your best to live your everyday life with a haunting presence always a few steps away. Begrudgingly, you took a seat on your stool and took a bite of the omelette. It was still warm, and you scoffed. Surprisingly, it was delicious, better than anything you could cook for yourself. A cool but soft sensation gently stroked at your cheek, as if to praise you for eating. You ignored it, glancing at the door you had bolted shut last night.

It was still closed, but every single lock was undone.

******************

A few days later, your shadow had made a new routine. You had gone to bed again without eating, and the exact same thing happened every morning – you’d wake up to a freshly cooked breakfast. Soon enough, you found yourself going to bed without eating on purpose, knowing he’d make sure you ate in the morning.

It was insane, you knew. Letting him do this to you – watch you while you sleep, eat the food he prepared for you. Evidently, your self preservation instincts were lacking, but you were lying if you said it didn’t send a little thrill through your body knowing he was watching your every move. You felt sacred, yet protected at the same time. It excited that sick part of your brain that relished in the danger of it.

After another long day in your office studying manuscripts, you headed home. For the first time in weeks, there were no echoing footsteps accompanying you. It felt almost lonely, which made you want to slap yourself for your stupidity – who misses being followed? So you walked in silence, an uneasy feeling churning your stomach. Your shadow had stuck to a single routine for weeks, and now things were changing. Now, you were less sure that you were safe in his presence. Yet you didn’t fight it. One way or another, he would get whatever it was he wanted. He would decide when to leave you alone, not you.

Immediately upon entering your home, you knew he had been there. A fresh bouquet of blue roses adorned your table, and there was that eerie chill in the air despite the heat from the fireplace. Heart racing, you set your bag down on the table next to the roses, scanning the room. Everything seemed in order, but something tugged you towards your bedroom. You found yourself blindly following it, anxiety making your bones jitter.

You stepped into your bedroom and gasped. Your bed was perfectly made, despite you leaving it a complete mess this morning. But that wasn’t what grasped your attention. At the foot of the bed there was a rectangular box. It was black, a dark blue ribbon wrapped around it and tied in a perfect bow at the top. There was no card, but you knew who it was from.

Any rational female would have simply grabbed it and thrown it as far away as possible, but the rational side of your brain was losing lately. Your curtain was slightly open, and you knew he was watching through the gap. With shaking hands, you undid the bow, letting the midnight blue ribbon fall from the box. Carefully, you opened the lid, holding your breath as you did so. You expected maybe a decapitated head, or a bloody knife, something to prove just how insane your stalker was. But no, what was inside the box was somehow even more startling.

Within the box was a dark blue nightgown. The cups were lacy and sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. A small bow adorned the centre of the plunging v-line, and sheer panels of cobalt blue fabric were draped from the lace cups. Folded right next to it was a thong in the same colour, so thin it barely counted as panties.

“What the fuck?” You wondered aloud, holding up the nightgown. It couldn’t even be classified as a nightgown, the way it covered nothing. You could have sworn a deep chuckle was carried in through the breeze from your window, so faint it was practically inaudible. But you knew he was watching, gauging your reaction.

For the first time, you spoke aloud to him. “No, I am NOT wearing this you sick fuck.” You shouted, tossing the lingerie onto the floor. “I’ll eat your stupid food because it tastes better than anything I can make, but I refuse to put this on. Creep!”

Fuming, you settled into a steaming hot bath. It was the one room your stalker’s presence never entered, the one place you got peace from him. At least he has a shred of decency not to spy on me in the bathroom, you thought bitterly to yourself. He was getting bolder, and his recent gift made you squirm. On the one hand, it was terrifying – a strange male wanting you to wear lingerie for him, breaking into your home day after day and watching you without you even catching a glimpse of him once. But on the other hand, it was exciting. Your life seemed so dull and mundane, having him in it brought excitement to your day.

Yup, you were definitely sick in the head.

You finished your bath and ignored the lingerie, opting for your usual t-shirt and shorts attire. You climbed under the covers, ignoring the eerie presence outside your window. “Go fuck yourself.” You muttered to him as you drifted off into sleep.

******************

The second you woke up, you knew he had done something. Typically, the first thing you did upon sitting up in bed was brushing the hair out of your face, having gone to bed with it loose. Instead, you felt no tendrils of hair sticking to your cheeks. Heart racing, you slowly reached behind your head and felt your hair. To your horror, it was pulled back into a neat braid tied together with a fragment of the blue ribbon from the box. It was slightly damp, as if someone had put an oil in it. Your breaths shortened as you pulled the braid over your shoulder, hands shaking. You noticed the chair in the corner of your room. The lingerie that had been on the floor all night was nearly placed on it, ready to wear.

The message couldn’t be more clear. He was escalating things – not once before had he ever touched you, until last night after you refused to put on the nightgown. Wear it, he seemed to say.

Your throat was dry as you peeled back the covers and walked over to the chair. Today was your day off, and you hadn’t planned on going anywhere. Several chores needed doing around the house – reorganising, cleaning, the works. You’d be damned if you had to do it basically naked. So you scoffed, strolling over to your wardrobe and opening the doors. Every nerve in your body froze as you faced an empty closet.

He had taken all of your clothes to ensure you would put on the lingerie.

Pervert.

You angrily slammed the door. “Fuck you!” You yelled, not knowing which direction to aim your fury at. “If I put on your gift, will you give me my clothes back?”

Something invisible caressed your shoulder. Yes, it seemed to purr.

You rolled your eyes, but took a deep breath and turned back towards the chair. You figured it was better to make him happy, and with a sigh you peeled off your shirt and pants. No doubt he was watching, taking in your naked form – but with the revealing lingerie, he’d be seeing it all regardless.

Swallowing what little remained of your dignity, you slipped the thong and nightgown on. You tried not to think about how it fit you perfectly, clinging to the shape of your breasts like it was custom made for your frame.

******************

By dusk, you had finally completed all your tasks. It was demeaning, washing dishes with your ass hanging out. No doubt your shadow enjoyed the view. But after a while you had begun to not care, trying to ignore the heat that pooled in your core at the thought of him watching you, exposed like this.

You groaned when you entered your bedroom, finding another gift at the foot of your bed. It was in a smaller, square box this time, but was wrapped the exact same way. “Mother above, what do you want now?” You muttered, sitting down on your bed and ripping the ribbon off your gift. You let out a gasp as you peeled off the lid and peered inside.

At the bottom of the box was a blue vibrator. It was shaped like an L with a white circle at the top and three buttons going down the side. Gingerly, you pressed the bottom button and the small ring at the top began to vibrate gently. So you clicked the top button and pressed the ring into the palm of your hand. The vibrating increased, and sucked at the skin on your hand.

“Fucking hell.” It was a suction vibrator. You knew without a shadow of a doubt what he wanted you to do with it. But you were stubborn, and chucked the device across the room. It hit your wall, and landed on the floor with a thump.

“Absolutely not.” You hissed. “I am drawing the line here.”

Deciding you had lost enough dignity for today, you crawled into bed grumpily and closed your eyes.

Hours passed, but sleep did not come. It felt hot in the room, so you kicked off the sheets, letting your warm skin breathe. You tried everything – counting down from 100, telling yourself a story, but nothing brought the peaceful bliss of sleep. He was watching you, without a doubt, laughing at your pathetic attempts to force your brain to shut down.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about how it might feel to get yourself off while he watched. Once, you had drunkenly confessed to your ex boyfriend that you wanted to explore the idea of being watched while he fucked you, or while you pleasured yourself. You had been shot down instantly, making your cheeks go red with embarrassment. But that hadn’t changed your feelings about it.

You flinched as an invisible shadow gently caressed your cheek. It felt like silk against your skin, cold but comforting. A few seconds later, it skimmed just above the curve of your breast, teasing the edge of the lingerie.

“What are you–” Your question was cut off by a moan as the shadow flicked over your nipple through the thin fabric. You couldn’t help but arch up into it, your body already tempting to beg for more.

Your breaths became pants as the shadow graced your other nipple, teasing the buds through the fabric. It trailed down your sides before taking up residence on your inner thighs. Without thinking, you spread your legs for the invisible force that was touching your body and making your core heat up. That deep laugh you thought you had heard days ago sounded again, causing your cheeks to turn red. The shadows caressed your inner thigh, crawling up towards your pussy before jumping over to the other leg and starting again.

It was embarrassing how wet you were. Your core was throbbing, begging to be touched. But the shadows denied you, content to ghost over your pussy and continue their dance along your inner thighs. You reached down to grab the bedsheets, but your hand knocked against something hard. It was the vibrator.

He was persistent tonight.

You tried to hold out, to leave the vibrator on the bed and ignore the soft sensations driving your body wild. It went on for so long, to the point where tears began forming in your eyes. If the shadows weren’t going to satisfy you, you’d have to do it yourself.

“This is sick.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing the vibrator. Taking a breath, you switched it on and cranked up the setting. Settling into the sheets and spreading your legs wider, you placed the suctioning ring to your clit. Almost instantly, your body jolted at the intense sensation and you gasped.

A deep, velvety voice sounded in your ear, so low it was almost inaudible above the sound of the vibrator. Good girl.

You gasped louder, chills going down your spine. Your stalker was watching you get off wearing the lingerie he bought for you, and it sent a thrill through your body. You moaned, letting your back arch off the bed as you grinded into the toy. Your core was pulsing, and you nearly screamed when you felt that teasing shadow slip into your hole. It curled inside of you, instantly finding your g-spot. You whimpered at the sensation, as your legs began to twitch, approaching your orgasm at lightning speed. You shamelessly moaned as your orgasm ripped through your body, writhing your hips against the high speed of the vibrator.

You tried to pull it away, but that invisible force stopped you. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't drag your hand away. “No, no, no…” You whimpered pathetically, core screaming from oversensitivity as both the vibrator and the shadow relentlessly attacked it.

Yes, sweetheart. Take it. Give me another one. You heard the voice echo next to your ear.

“I can’t.” You cried, fighting with all your might to move. Yet your hand and hips remained frozen.

Yes, you can.

You began sobbing, your body having no time to recover from your first orgasm as the second one rapidly approached. The shadow in your pussy pumped in and out even faster, hurling you over the edge just minutes later.

Your pillow was soaked with your tears, and everything began to go fuzzy. You lost track of the amount of orgasms he forced you through before you passed out.

******************

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. Your body was back under the covers, a fresh soft pillow behind your head. You groaned, the memories of last night flooding back like a burst dam. You had never orgasmed so hard in your life, nor so many times in one round. You remembered that voice in your ear, praising you and talking you through it.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes. Instantly, you knew he was there. But it was different this time, closer. You slowly turned your head, and were met with a pair of hazel eyes and towering wings at the foot of your bed.

You inhaled sharply, finally meeting eyes with your stalker – Azriel, the spymaster of the Night Court. “Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice was as cold and smooth as the shadows that teased you last night.

Finally, after weeks, your survival instinct kicked in. You scrambled off the bed, making a run for the door as fast as you could. Your heart pounded in your throat as you reached for the handle. Before you could grab onto it, a scarred, cold hand clamped down on your wrist. It was like iron, no matter how much you fought, he did not ease up. You closed your eyes, too scared to look at him.

“Let me go!” You screamed, using your free hand to slap his chest as hard as you could. Azriel did not flinch, as if you were nothing more than a fly. He grabbed your other hand, pinning it to your side. He stepped forward, forcing you to walk back until you were pressed against the wall. You felt him lift your arms until they were above your head, hands digging into the cold wood. He held them effortlessly with one hand, his newly free one coming down to stroke your cheek.

“You have such pretty eyes,” He murmured. “Let me see them.”

You sobbed, tears wetting your cheeks. You were terrified – you had heard stories of what the shadowsinger was capable of, the torture he inflicted on his enemies. Was this one of his sick torture methods? And why you? Still, you kept them squeezed shut.

The male growled, his hand gripping your jaw firmly and forcing your chin up. “I said open your eyes. Don’t make me ask again.”

You obliged this time, prying your eyes open to look at him for the first time. He was much taller than you, his muscled frame towering over your own. His short dark hair was tousled, strands of it teasing his forehead and making those hazel eyes look even more menacing. His face was sharp and undeniably beautiful, and Mother above his wings flared menacingly behind him. They were enormous. Your eyes met his – hazel eyes that had watched you, unseen from the shadows for weeks on end.

“Please don’t hurt me.” You said shakily.

His brows furrowed, confusion that looked genuine crossing his features. “Hurt you? Why would I want to do that?”

“Because that’s what you do for a living.” Your voice was meek, and you tried to ignore how smooth his voice was.

“But not you.” He said, thumb stroking your jaw. “Never you. Unless you asked. Gods, I would do almost anything you asked.”

You gulped, jaw beginning to ache from the pressure of his grip. “Including leave me alone?”

Azriel chuckled darkly, leaning in closer. “That’s why I said ‘almost’, princess.” His hand released your jaw, snaking its way down your body and settling on your waist. He gave it a squeeze, letting out a chuckle as you gasped. Your traitorous body giving away the faint scent of arousal that grew at his actions. “Besides, we both know you don’t want that.”

“Leave me alone.” You begged. “I don’t want this.”

“Oh, but your body says otherwise.” Azriel moved his hand down past your hip, cupping your backside and squeezing sharply. More arousal pooled at your core, and you whimpered. “See?” His velvety voice was laced with satisfaction. “You crave my touch. After hearing your sweet moans last night I don’t think I can live another day without hearing them again. I hadn’t even touched you and you came so hard all on your own. You’re going to utterly fall apart when I get my cock inside you, sweetheart. I’m going to ruin you.”

He pressed his hips into you, letting you feel his massive bulge against your lower stomach. You gasped, the sheer size of it almost unsettling. You felt wetness pool between your legs, and you pressed your knees together. Azriel noticed, and chuckled again. “Do you have any idea how hard I tried to hold off touching myself last night as I watched you?” He purred, lips grazing your ear. “I couldn’t do it. After your second orgasm, I finally pulled out my cock and imagined it was your hand wrapped around it. It took everything in me not to take you right then and there.”

You growled, baring your teeth. “Let. Me. Go.” You hissed, ignoring your body’s desire to give into whatever he wanted.

Azriel sighed, letting go of your wrists and removing his hand from your backside. Your arms dropped down, shoulders aching from being pinned up. You let out a breath, unsure what was going on. “Disappointing,” He said lowly. “I was going to let you have me any way you wanted. I was going to be gentle, take my time, give you whatever you asked. I’d have tied myself up if that’s what you wanted. But have it your way.”

The spymaster took a step back, his eyes going dark. “I’m going to let you run. Run now, and don’t let me catch you.”

Your entire body went cold. What had you gotten yourself into? “And what happens if you catch me?” You asked nervously.

The smile that spread across his lips terrified you. “I fuck you. I claim you whatever way I want, and you take it like a good girl. You can fight it all you want, but you’ll learn your place by the end of the night. Now run.”

You didn’t hesitate before bolting out of the bedroom, throwing your door open and running towards the woods. You didn’t care that you had no shoes, or that you were still in the revealing lingerie. You ignored the freezing bite of the forest air as you ran into it.

******************

You weren’t sure how long you had been running. Azriel had reverted back to his favourite game from when he first began following you – every time you heard footsteps, you ran. They caught up to you, and when you turned around to face him, nobody was there. It was torture, and you were ready to give up. You leaned against one of the trees, gasping for air.

“Giving up yet?” Your shadow’s voice sounded in your ear. You spun around, but he wasn’t there. “You’re making this too fun, sweetheart.” He called from a distance, suddenly further away.

Taking another heaving breath, you forced yourself to run. You zig zagged through the trees, trying to lose him. You knew it was hopeless, that he was just toying with you. But you’d be damned if you didn’t go down trying.

You turned around to see if he was following, and the wind suddenly got knocked out of your lungs as you crashed into a tall figure. You thought you were going to fall on your ass, but strong arms grabbed you and held you upright. You couldn’t help but scream at the surprise. Panting, you looked up and were met with Azriel’s sly grin. “Caught you.” He purred. “Looks like I win.”

You gave up. From the moment he had laid out the lingerie for you, you knew it would come to this. To him having his way with you. It all led to this, and while the thought terrified you, it also ignited something animalistic in you. There had been a certain thrill to running through the forest like a deer being hunted by a lion. Again, that sick and twisted part of your brain won over the sensible part. Deep down, you knew that you wanted this. You had only fought for the sake of your own pride. You craved the thrill.

As if sensing your submission, Azriel leaned down and buried his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent. “You smell so fucking perfect.” He groaned, lips brushing your skin. “I can’t wait to taste you. That's all I’ve been thinking about.”

Suddenly, the world spun around you, and you found yourself back in your bedroom moments later. The warmth was welcome against your ice cold skin, and you were secretly relieved he wasn’t about to fuck you like an animal in the dirty forest. You didn’t have time to question his actions before he bent down and captured your lips in his.

You moaned as his mouth claimed yours with a dominance that made your core wet. There was no romance behind it, just pure claiming desire. You melted into him as one of his scarred hands reached around your lower back and pulled you against his solid chest. His other hand reached up and grasped your hair, tilting your head back to get a better angle.

You gasped at the tug on your scalp, and Azriel snaked his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. You’d never been kissed like this before, and it was making your head spin. Hesitantly, you reached up and clasped your hands around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hair at the top of his neck. He growled into your mouth in response, kicking your legs apart with his feet and settling his thigh in between them.

Azriel’s lips made their way down the column of your neck, biting and sucking harshly as he went. You moaned as his thigh moved against your throbbing core, sending a warm sensation up your body. The delicate panties you were wearing did nothing to hide how wet you were, the juices from your cunt seeping onto his dark pants. He moved his mouth down to the tops of your breasts, biting down hard with his sharp canines and making you cry out. You’d for sure be covered in a million bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck, I can feel how wet you are on my thigh.” The shadowsinger groaned into your skin. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re this soaked already? It’s pathetic, coming from someone who said they didn’t want this.”

You could only whimper, defenceless as scarred hands grabbed the sides of your nightgown and ripped it apart with one pull. It fell to pieces on the floor beside you. You felt yourself being lifted into the air, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. It was hard not to gasp as your sopping cunt was pressed into his rock hard bulge in his trousers. Azriel carried you over to the bed and roughly tossed you into the mattress, causing you to bounce over the sheets ungracefully. Quick as a viper, he snaked his way over top of your body, making you feel incredibly small.

He smirked as his lips met your nipple, sucking harshly and making you cry out. He did not treat your breast gently, covering the mound of flesh with bitemarks and bruises from his lips before moving to the other one. You went to push him by the shoulders, the intensity from his mouth bordering on too much, but his hands quickly found yours and pinned them to the mattress. You were utterly helpless beneath him, and it sent more wetness to your core.

Azriel lifted his head from your breasts, smirking at your flushed face before trailing his lips down your stomach. He let go of your hands, but tendrils of darkness snaked their way around your wrists, taking his place. They pinned your hands above your head, unable to move. You could have sworn they chuckled at you – the mischievous shadows at their masters command had been torturing you for weeks, finally getting to reveal themselves in their true form.

Azriel gripped the string of your panties in his teeth, hazel eyes making contact with your own. He pulled them down your legs with his mouth, the animalistic action making you even wetter. Instinctively, you closed your legs once he removed them. Once he tossed the panties aside, rough hands pried your legs open. “Now, now,” He tutted, his deep voice lulling you into obedience. “Am I going to have to restrain your legs, too?”

You shook your head, relaxing your muscles into his grip. Azriel smirked triumphantly, settling on his knees on the ground at the end of the bed and yanking you closer to him by his ankles. “Good girl.” He praised, wrapping his arms underneath your thighs and putting your hips in an ironclad grip. A fresh wave of arousal pooled from you, dampening the sheets – and his smirk grew wider.

“Do you like it when I tell you what a good girl you are?” He asked, cocking his head. “Or would you prefer if I told you that you’re a pathetic little slut, all spread out for me? An ungrateful brat who ran through the forest to defy me when she could have had things her way if she just asked nicely?”

You whimpered, screwing your eyes shut at the humiliation. It was embarrassing how much your body was responding to his words alone. If he didn’t touch you soon, you were sure you were going to explode. A harsh nip on your thigh brought your attention back to the spymaster.

“I asked you a question.” He growled dangerously. “Are you a good girl? Or are you my little slut, ready to give herself to me to do whatever I want?”

“I…” You tried to find the words, but found your ability to speak had gotten lost in the forest somewhere with your dignity. Before you could try again, your body was flipped over so that you were laying on your stomach, arm still bound in front of you. A loud cracking noise filled the room as Azriel smacked your left ass cheek with thunderous force. You couldn’t hold in the cry that slipped out.

“Every time you disobey me, you get ten spanks.” Azriel said firmly, his voice cold as stone with no mercy to be found. “You are to count them aloud. If you lose track, I start over. Understood?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t good enough. Your right cheek took the blow this time. “I expect a verbal response.” He hissed.

“Yes!” You cried out, skin stinging from the slap.

“Good. Now count.”

Azriel brought his hand down again, alternating sides. You counted out loud, tears dripping onto the pillow. The spymaster was a trained Illyrian warrior with three times your muscle, so it hurt like hell. But you couldn’t deny that it made you even wetter.

“Ten.” You sobbed as Azriel made his final hit before flipping you around so you were on your back again.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” He hummed, leaning into your cunt and inhaling your scent.

“Yes.” You said eagerly, not wanting to endure another round of his fierce hits.

“See? You’re learning. Soon, you’ll be perfect at it, my own little toy who will do whatever I ask without talking back. Unless you enjoy your punishments, I wouldn’t be surprised if a slut like you acted out so she could get put in her place.”

You whimpered, unsuccessfully attempting to move your hips up in his firm grip. “Please.”

Azriel smirked again, lifting his head. “Please, what?”

“Touch me.” You couldn’t take it anymore. The feeling of his warm breath fanning right above your cunt was getting to be too much. You didn’t care about anything else right now other than him.

“Since you begged so nicely, sweetheart. I will listen to you just this once.”

Finally, those sinful lips met your core. You cried out as he delved in like a man starved, licking a bold strip up your pussy before attaching his lips to your clit and sucking hard. He was rough and relentless, putting the vibrator he got you to shame. His lips and tongue were everywhere, exploring every inch of your pussy. You couldn’t move your hips against his attack, forced to lay there and take what he gave you.

The male who stalked you for weeks, who happened to be the spymaster of the Night Court, was on his knees eating you out. He slipped a finger in your hole, the scars and ridges making your body sing. After a few more minutes, he easily slipped in a second.

It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. It hit you like a landslide, and you saw white as the tension between your legs snapped. You almost sobbed as it wracked your body, unable to even buck your hips to ride it out. Azriel groaned into your core as you soaked his face, but he eased up as you came down from your high, unlike what he did with the vibrator. When he finally pulled away, your arms were released, and your entire body was trembling like a leaf. You opened your eyes to see Azriel pulling his shirt above his head, revealing whirling black tattoos and a muscled abdomen that snapped you out of your trance. Immediately, you sat up in the bed, fixing your eyes on his shirtless form. You didn’t have to glance up to know that his face was a look of pure male pride as he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his trousers and boxers all in one go, stepping out of them and leaving both of you completely naked.

Your jaw went agape at the size of him. He was long and thick, unlike any male you’d seen before. While you certainly enjoyed sex with males, your mouth had never watered with the urge to put their cock in your mouth.

Until now.

Azriel stroked himself, wings flaring behind him. He looked like a god above you, pure muscle and desire as he stared down at you. “On your knees. Now.” He ordered with an authority that sang to your desires. You didn’t hesitate to scramble onto the floor in front of him, kneeling. He guided his cock to your lips, which you gladly opened to allow him entrance. The moan he let out as you encased as much of his cock in your mouth as you could was otherworldly.

You looked up at him through your lashes. He had tilted his head back, the column of his throat bobbing with groans as you slid your lips up and down. There was no way you’d manage to fit it all in your mouth, so you reached up and grabbed the base with one hand, pumping gently to meet your mouth.

“Oh, fuck.” Azriel moaned, reaching down and gathering your hair in one hand. “Just like that, princess.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you gagged around him, but kept going. You had expected the shadowsinger to be quiet, given his reputation. But no, his groans and sighs echoed throughout your bedroom, spurring you on. As the minutes passed your knees began to ache, but you welcomed the pain.

Suddenly, Azriel pulled himself out of your mouth. You whined, wanting to please him further.

“Such a pathetic slut, whining that she didn’t get to suck my cock for longer.” He growled, hoisting you up by your arm and flinging you back onto the bed. “I thought about coming in your mouth, but no. I’m going to fill up that sweet cunt of yours instead. And you’re going to take it.”

You were laying on your stomach facing the mirror on your wall to the left of your bed. You watched your reflection as Azriel grabbed your hips and lifted them up in the air, forcing you to prop yourself up on your elbows. His hazel eyes were so dark, the colour barely showed. They met yours in the mirror as he learned down and grabbed your hair again, forcing your head up to face the mirror head on. “You’re going to watch as I fuck you.” He said, lining himself up with your entrance.

He kept one hand in your hair as he guided the tip into you, causing you to cry out. The stretch stung, despite being prepared. He was bigger than any cock you had taken, and your body struggled to accommodate. Azriel didn’t give you much time to adjust before he was pushing himself fully in, groaning. You tried to force your body to relax, knowing you were going to be sore the next day. He slowly slid himself almost all the way out, relieving your muscles before slamming back into you with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of you. You gasped, and instinctively went to turn your head into the pillow, but a harsh tug on your hair from Azriel made you stop.

“Keep watching.” He said firmly. “If you take your eyes off the mirror, I won’t let you cum. Got it?”

“Yes.” You whined. Azriel grunted, and began pounding into you at a relentless pace. The loud sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as you were fucked mercilessly.

“This is what you fucking needed, isn’t that right?” Azriel hissed as he thrusted into you. “To be treated like a slut? All those other boys been too nice to you, letting you get away with talking back. They don’t know what you truly need. To be put in your place, properly fucked within an inch of your life. Nobody can make you feel as good as I can.”

His words poured over you like honey, the pain subsisting into drunken bliss. The bed was shaking beneath you, headboard banging against the wall loudly. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Nobody had ever fucked you like this, in a way you didn’t know you needed. It was so wrong, letting him do these things to you. But it felt too good to deny yourself it.

Azriel bent over, covering your back with his tall frame as he adjusted his angle and thrust even harder. One hand was pressed to the bed to steady himself while the other gripped your jaw firmly. You watched in the mirror, and it was perhaps the most erotic thing you had ever seen – Azriel’s wings flaring as he claimed you, muscular arm holding you in place, utterly helpless against him. He sunk his canines into your shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. You cried out as his teeth carved into your flesh, the mixture of pain from his bite and pleasure from his thrusts sending you towards another orgasm. He released your jaw and reached down to rub your clit harshly.

“Nobody’s allowed to touch you but me.” He growled in your ear, watching your face in the mirror. “You’re mine, and mine only, you got that? If I even scent another male has touched you, I’ll cut his hands off and leave them at your doorstep. You belong to me now. Cum for me.”

He accentuated those last three words with thrusts, and it was enough to send you over the edge. Your entire body shook as you came around Azriel’s cock, black fuzziness surrounded the edges of your vision. You watched through your lashes as Azriel bared his teeth, growling like an animal as his hips sputtered and he spilled himself inside you. He let out a moan that could have shaken the entire forest. You screamed weakly as he spurted inside you while you rode out your orgasm, the sensation nearly making you pass out.

You both panted as Azriel pulled himself out of you. He climbed off the bed and you immediately collapsed. The room was spinning, your body completely spent. The spymaster casually put on his clothes and crouched down so his face was level with yours.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” He purred before his shadows encompassed him and he vanished, leaving you alone wondering what just happened.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #dark!azriel #dark!azriel x reader #azriel acotar #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar smut #smut #dark fic

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blackopals-world · 11 months

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Your Implied relationship Twisted Wonderland fic was so good please have a part two where the bys come back to visit and find out she has a son. Also her son finds out she´s the missing princess in the books she wrote. This is SO GOOD O MY GREAT 7 PLEASE PART 2! PART 2!

Okay Okay! I'm listening!I'm listening!

I Found Home

Part 2

(part 1)(part 3)(Part 4)(part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)

Implied relationship

Yuu x twisted cast

Implied relationship in the first half.

Yuu opens the door to find...

Yuu took a deep breath as she opened to door hoping that she heard correctly. She knew that voice anywhere.

"Henchmen!" A ball of grey fluff barreled into her.

"Grim?!" She gasped as the air was pushed out of her lungs.

She had to be dreaming.

What a cruel dream this was. To see her Grim again would mean crossing over to that world but leaving her Grimm behind. How cruel, how impossible.

"Yuu!" The cat cried rubbing his furry form against her in affection. Every so often headbutting against her face.

"Oh Grim." She sighed tearfully wrapping her arms around him " How did you get here?"

The cat familiar pulled away and smiled smugly.

"Obviously, you can never leave me behind. The great and powerful Grim created portals to countless domains." He proclaimed.

"By which he means we created a portal to find you." Another voice entered.

The feathered cloak and bird mask told her everything she needed.

"Crowley." Yuu gasped.

Once upon a time, she hated his guts but in time she understood him. In the years of staying at the school she saw a side of him that others didn't. He was negligent and overdramatic but he protected her in his own way.

Crowley was true to his word about searching for a way back home for her, but he pushed her to stay. He had doubts as his research found little evidence. Not to mention the chaos going on campus. Grim and Yuu's antics didn't help certainly. Back then she thought it was revenge but it only made things harder.

During her last year asked her to remain in twisted wonderland because it would be easier than readjusting to her old world.

She saw through him. He just didn't want her to go. But a promise was made.

"Look how you've grown," Crowley said wistfully as he moved his mask. "Hard to believe it's only been a few years."

Yuu held back a laugh as she saw him. A few streaks of graying hair stood out from the black. His eyes seemed to wrinkle with the beginning of crow's feet. His job must be aging him prematurely. He definitely seemed more tired. Best not to make fun of an old man.

"Nice to see you too." Yuu said

Their reunion halted when footsteps came stumbling down the stairs. Grimm had woken up and came looking for her.

"Mama.." He called out to her rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Mama."

Yuu couldn't speak as her son saw the strange figures in the house.

"Mama?" Grim repeated astonished, bewildered as he looked back and forth between the parent and child.

"Nina?" Grimm asked.

Answering Grimm's questions this late would be difficult without any prep. So she took the easy way.

"Honey your sleepwalking. You should get back to bed." Yuu thanked the heavens that Grim looked like a walking stuff animal.

Grimm nodded and yawn before stumbling back to his room.

"I have a grandson?!" Crowley gasped "Wait your married?!"

"Of course not, I'm too young an-" Yuu started.

"But not too young for a baby? Do you not remember what I said about protection? Who fathered your child? Who was this bastard who left you to raise this child on your own?"

"It's not like that."

"Was it one of your old 'friends'? Even if you left for your old world it doesn't absolve them of responsibility. Regardless now that the gate is open there will be no choice but to be a father to their child. Divus will have fit when he finds out." Crowley ranted taking a seat on the couch as Yuu tried to calm him down.

"No , I adopted Grimm. He's not related to them."

Crowley wasn't hearing it.

"Honestly when that boy asked for me and Crewel's blessing I knew we were right to say no. And don't lie young lady that child looks exactly like-"

"No, he doesn't!"

They argued back and forth as Grim snuck upstairs through the open door to the room that the little boy slept in.

The room was decorated wall to wall with trinkets, stuffies, and books. On the bed, the boy slept hugging a grey cat with a bow.

Grim shifted closer to examine it when a pair of eyes popped open.

"Nina?" There was that name again "You came to life!"

"My name is Grim, boy. The great and powerful magician!" Grim crowed.

"No, I'm Grimm. That's my name."

Grim paused. Yuu named him Grimm. After him. She didn't forget him. Did she love him that much?

"That's. That's a great name." He said simply as he climbed on the bed "You should sleep. Your mom has always been a stickler for stuff like that."

The familiar curled up against the boy and purred as he lulled them to sleep. Grim could accept this, his new 'little henchmen'.

Meanwhile, Yuu continued to bicker with her old guardian. Crowley wanted visitation rights, family vacations and a chance to see if his grandson might have magic. To which Yuu said no.

Grimm wouldn't be exposed to magic. Not the expectations that came with it or the people who use it. It's not a world made for him. Grimm had been through enough, he has his own trauma and she wasn't making magic part of it.

"I'm not sure you'll get a choice. Not with the gate now open."

"Grimm doesn't have magic. I won't let him be treated the way I was for it. He deserves better."

"Mama!Mama!" Grim shouted as he stumbled down the big steps. He clung to the railing with both arms to safely.

Yuu finished had cutting up Grim's pancakes as he made it down and ran straight to her. He threw himself at her as his arms wrapped around her hips.

"Careful, sweetheart. You almost knocked me over." Yuu picked him up and sat him at the table. Grimm's seat had a cushion to make it easier to see over the table.

"Cake! Thank you mama!" He smiled picking up his fork from his colorful placemat.

Yuu held back a squeal of joy. Her baby was so so cute and so polite.

"No, they are pancakes. We change the name to make it okay to eat in the morning.

"Cake is cake!" Grimm hooted back.

Yuu didn't argue.

"Mama, I had a dream. Nina was walking and talking!"

"Oh," Yuu said not having a better response.

She had a lot on her mind. The sudden appearance of Grim and Crowley disrupted Yuu's life. She was happy to see them but...it's a lot to adjust too.

She didn't even like the idea of Grimm learning about magic. She had dealt with her own resentment in the past when she was mocked for her status. It would be unfair to make him go through the same. She's a mother now and had to consider these things.

Maybe she was making a mistake.

Grim at least got to meet his little brother. It's too bad he needed to return with Crowley for the time being. Once Yuu was sure they would be a family again. Grim will always be the exception no matter her doubts.

(From this point the story goes on to show the first meetings with the twst boys. Each will be Grimm's first contact so there won't be continuity)

Riddle

"The Mentor"

No one believed Grim when he said he made a stable gateway to Yuu's world. All of them had tried and failed even Malleus couldn't do it. But Grim was different he had a connection to Yuu. If Yuu still had a strong connection a gateway could be made.

Grim now worked at the school helping Crowley and called everyone to deliver the news.

Riddle thought it would be appropriate to visit. He took the day off, his cases would wait one day. He had worked his way up to district prosecutor recently.

The first thing he noticed when he reached the scenic neighborhood was how peaceful it was. The house were spaced apart and it was clean. Lots of trees and gardens.

The second was one particular house where a young woman was kneading by a flowerbed. She was so focused on her roses that she didn't notice him but Riddle knew it was her. Just like him, time had changed some features. He had grown taller and lost some of his boyish looks but she no different. She was softer in appearance, glowing and matronly even. She grew out her hair but she tied it up.

Riddle reflexively straightened his suit jacket and shifted the bouquet he had brought in his arms. He wondered if she still liked these flowers.

Just as he tried to call her name a loud yelp rang out.

"Ma-ahh!" The exclamation became a wail of pain as a little boy appeared holding out a finger.

Yuu sprang up as she went to the side of a weeping boy. He had pricked his finger on a thorn.

"It okay Grimm. Don't panic, it'll only hurt a moment. You should never touch roses without gloves." She scolded gently. "You know better then that."

"But I wanted to see a red rose. So I thought if I painted one it would turn red. Like in the book." He whimpered as Yuu took out a bandage from her pocket and wrapped it on his finger.

"Grimm you know that in the story that red roses belong to the red king. And that sort of spell was done only by his loyal card soldiers." She admonished.

"Like The Ace Magician and The Spade Mercenary?" He asked.

"Yep, they had orders to do those tasks and you should ask permission to do it as well. Those are the rules. Don't you want to follow the rules?" Yuu asked.

Grim nodded quickly as he gathered his scattered paint and went to put them away like a good boy.

Riddle had hidden himself during the exchange. His mind raced. She had a son. Of course, she had a kid. Why wouldn't she? Anyone with eyes would want her. Anyone with a brain would fall for her. So seeing her married with a family is common sense.

Perhaps the flowers were too much?

"Hello?"

Riddle didn't get time to change his mind as his hiding spot was discovered.

"Hello, Yuu. I brought these for you." He tried to sound calm as he presented the bouquet.

"Riddle!" Her smile was still as warm as it was before. "Oh my, look at how tall you've gotten! You look amazing! How have you been? Come inside, I'll make some tea."

The pair talked amicably as Yuu put a kettle on. All the while a pair of eyes peeked out from a doorway. It was the boy.

"Grimm it's rude to stare. " She scolded.

"Sorry mama." He said but didn't move.

"Grimm? I bet you had to explain that one to your husband." Riddle tried to sound jovial.

"Not really, I don't have one. It just us here." Yuu smiled.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

There was a tug on Riddle's sleeve as Grimm got his attention. In his hand was a book; "The Lost Princess in the Red King's Court"

"Oh, do you like this book? I never read stuff like this at your age." Riddle said taking the book gingerly. He flipped through the pages as the pictures looked eerily familiar.

Grimm leaned on Riddle as he pointed at his favorite characters.

"Mama made this. The lost princess gets kidnapped by a giant crow and is dropped far away from home. She lands in the rose garden and makes friends with a magician and a mercenary who was summoned to work for the king." Grimm explaind

The story continued. The magician and mercenary protected the princess from a troll as they journeyed to see the king. The princess meets a magic cat that she kept. (no, this isn't Wizard of Oz) When they arrived at the Red Kingdom they were bombarded with rules and when the magician was asked to kneel before the king he refused. As punishment, the magician was sent to the dungeons. The princess was the only one not locked away so she frees her friends and challenges the king. The princess pleads with the king to see the dark spirit haunting and the gang banishes it. It ends happily when the king makes the boys knights and asks the princess to stay. She denied him so he told her about a neighboring kingdom that might help her get back home.

It was an extraordinary tale that Riddle knew by heart. Even if the details were changed. It didn't mention that Ace became the next "king" after Riddle graduated. Something Yuu complained about often after the power went to his head.

"That's quite the story. You must really like it." Riddle said hand it back to Grimm. "Do you have a character you like most?"

Grimm looked over to his mom be standing on his tip-toes and whispered into Riddle's ears.

"I like the princess."

"Really?" Riddle asked.

"I tried painting the flowers because she really likes red flowers like the princess. All the flowers turned white to red and the princess liked it." Grimm said proudly.

"I have an idea. I know a way to turn roses red. I could show you." He whispered back.

Grimm squealed in excitement and bounced on his fet as he turned to him mom.

"Can we play outside mama?"

Yuu pursed her lips indecisive of what to do next. She fought off the impulse to be suspicious. She trusted Riddle but did she trust him with her son. They hadn't seen each other in years after all.

She also wanted to be a selfish and keep him to herself. She hungered for the familiarity he brought back into her life.

But the warm gaze Riddle gave her settled her mind. She nodded in agreement and watched Grimm drag him away.

From the window Yuu watched as Riddle kneeled down next to Grimm. He had forgotten about trying to keep his suit clean as he pulled out his wand and handed it to Grimm.

Yuu immediately wanted to rush outside to stop him with every excuse as to why Grimm wasn't ready for magic but stopped herself. Grim wasn't her. He wasn't going to go through what she did.

Riddle taught Grimm how to hold the wand properly and asked him to imagine red roses in from of him. Grimm asked a million questions as Riddle calmly answered.

A good mother doesn't press her fears on her child. She wasn't going to traumatize him like she was. Riddle felt the same. He wasn't his mother and never pushed Grimm farther then needed.

A bit of wordless magic later the roses turned a brilliant ruby red.

"Mama! Mama look! Magic! We used magic" Grimm was in awe of this man.

Yuu cheered along when they returned inside knowing that Riddle did all the work.

"Don't you want to give them to the princess? You know that they are her favorites." Riddle smiled kindly.

"Princess? Mama?" Grimm looked to her with a questioning gaze before recognition lit up in his eyes.

Yuu felt her face burning so red that Riddle would be jealous. Which he wasn't but he couldn't help but think it was payback after all these years for her antics.

(This series might take a while to finish. I'm going to try to post more lengthy fics for characters)

Tag List:

@kamisatoaiko@professionalreblogs@kai200x@lianreine@loivre@jackalope08@code-roevember@growingupnrealizing@ryxmix@rainbowcake1212@blazestar0525@botswanasvetlana

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #twisted wonderland riddle #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #dire crowley #twst dire crowley #twst divus #divus crewel

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queenie-avenue · 2 months

Text

Sent from Below, Fell from Above. [pt.1]

—> an angel meets the demon who killed her all those years ago.

⤻ reader is a female, reader is a bunny-type angel(?), canon-typical cursing, very bad use of 1920s slang, reader takes part in the 'welcome to heaven' song, i even wrote an extra verse, heavily inspired by @jazjelspen 's angel baby fic, death, betrayal, angst, spoilers for all of hazbin hotel season one, alastor went up with vaggie and charlie to heaven in this fic, will be a series

The pearly gates of hell shone brightly as you stood there, waiting to welcome in any winners that may have unfortunately just died. Saint Peter had been out for hours by now and looked like he might just have collapsed from how exhausted he was. Like the angel that you were, you let him go take a break while you manned the podium. After all, you had done so multiple times already in the hundred years you've been in heaven!

Just then, you watched as a portal opened up, seemingly out of nowhere. You put on your best smile and waited to greet them.

"Look at this place, Vaggie, Alastor! It's so clean!" Your smile faltered for a moment. Not because of the familliar name — you had long since gotten rid of your fear regarding that name — but because people who just died wouldn't act that way.

"Yeah, super cool." The girl beside her mumbled as she dragged her feet over towards the stand.

As for the man at the back, all dressed in red, he hummed as he walked towards the glowing gates of heaven.

"Hello there!" You greeted, making sure your halo was glowing as bright as possible. "Welcome to heaven, darlings. Could I get your name, please?" You asked politely, pulling out the book of names Saint Peter had entrusted you with.

You stared at the trio ahead of you. A tall gal dressed in a suit with rosy red cheeks that almost made her look like a doll, another doll by her side that had ashen-grey skin and a giant x over her eye, poor thing she must have lost it when she died. And the man that accompanied the two ladies, standing at the back in a dapper looking suit.

"Charlie... Morningstar." The girl in the red suit said.

You nodded your head. "Charlie Morningstar." You drawled out the name, opening up the book and scanning your eyes through the book as your bunny ears flapped about, wondering where you had heard that name before. You frowned when you could not find Charlie's name anywhere in the roster. "Charlie... Morningstar. I'm really sorry, dearie, but you really aren't on my list. A-are you in the wrong place?" You questioned.

"Um, my dad got me this meeting so maybe you could try Lucifer Morningstar?" She mumbled, but the name was loud enough for you to hear.

"Oh dear lord in heaven!" You gasped.

The three of them looked at you. You noted that the man in the suit and deer antlers gazed at you the most intensely, tilting his head over as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"Darling, I really think all of you shouldn't be here-" you frantically said as you flapped your wings out, flying down towards them. Your skirt flapping in the wind alongside your feathery wings.

"Oh lord, here we go." The girl at her side muttered.

"No, uh, we're here for a meeting."

"[y/n], we can take it from here." A mature voice from above said as you looked up to see Sera and Emily — the Seraphim sisters — descend down to you, along with Saint Peter who was holding a milkshake in his hand.

You nodded your head, understanding your place, before stepping aside. Though, you felt the burning gaze of that man boring holes into your head. You turned towards him, a frown present on your face as you stared at him, confused. Noticing that you had noticed him, he turned away, his sharp-toothed grin faced towards Charlie now. That smile... you had seen that smile before. Even the way he dressed, it screamed that he died during your time period.

You continued staring at him, even as he avoided your gaze.

"Dearly beloved, it is my pleasure to say onto thee," Saint Peter suddenly started singing, and you realised that you had lost track of the conversation. "Welcome to Heaven, oh!" He sang as the pearly gates slammed open. You flew up alongside Saint Peter, your wings flapping as your bunny ears twitched. "Where the virtuous reside, 24/7, oh-oh! People are happy that they died," Well, that was certainly an exaggeration considering you didn't exactly... like the way that you died.

As he sang, you flew through the streets, rallying the rest of the winners to join in song. As you flew back, you landed back onto the floor with Saint Peter just as he finished his verse.

"Welcome to Heaven, where everyone hopes to go! Oh-oh! Where angels always glow! Oh!"

You sang as you ran towards all your winner friends as they danced in the streets for the envoys from Hell. Just as you finished singing, you felt those dark eyes on you once again, and you stopped dancing in the street to stare back at him.

Your head hurt as radio static filled your brain, and you struggled to keep yourself upright. You almost toppled over. You grabbed your head, attempting to get the static out of your brain. "Wha-"

"'Cause every single day in Heaven, is a happy day!" Both Emily and Saint Peter belted out as they flew in the air, causing you to break your gaze from the man and focus on the soaring duo in the air.

"Welcome to Heaven!"

The song ended, and you immediately fell to the ground. You had been dead for so many years, so it had been decades since you felt breathless, of all things.

"My, what is a dame like you doing on the floor!" There that static was again, but this time it was accompanied by an eerily familliar voice. You wanted to call out to Emily, or Sera, but they had already run off. Charlie and the girl by her side with Emily, and Sera to God knows where, leaving you alone with this shady man.

"I-" you began.

Without even extending his hand, this strange deer- whatever he was, pulled your hand up abruptly, holding onto it so tight you felt your blood stop pumping through the veins of your hand.

"What is your name, Sweetheart? I have to say, you and those little angels put on quite a show! All you little Oliver Twists are so adorable." The demon chuckled as he pulled you uncomfortably close.

"Please let me go." You said to the man, attempting to push him off but he only held you tighter.

"Aren't I quite the rude chap, I should have introduced myself before asking for your name." He grinned wider, spinning you around in a painfully familliar way.

"Alastor, my dear, pleasure to meet you!" He said, grabbing your hand and kissing it.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Alastor grabbed your hand, bowing down as he looked up at you, that sweet grin on his face. "Alastor, my dear, pleasure to meet you." He said, before sealing your fate with a kiss on your hand. "I hope that we can get along well." You gazed at him with wide eyes, your eyes raking over his bronzed skin and brown — almost red — hair. Glasses lined his gleaming eyes.

Those eyes were the same words that echoed in your mind in your worst nightmares.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

And now here you were, reliving that nightmare.

"What the fuck!" You yelled out, which caused some angels to look over at you. Sure, cursing was normal, but it was typically somewhat taboo on cloud nine and this was one of the only times you had ever cursed. You reeled your hand back, your eyes widened as you stumbled back. "I-it's you." You commented, holding your hand close to the pearl-white blouse that you wore.

"Yes, my darling, it is!" Alastor laughed once again, that sinister shit-eating grin still present on his face. "I'm surprised it took you so long to realise it." He commented, grabbing your hands in his, causing you to freeze up. "I had my suspicions the moment I saw you, but when you sang... oh..." He murmured. His face was filled with ecstasy, his claws going up to his face as he grinned deviously.

"I need to get out of here." You muttered as you turned on your heel and snatched your hands away, preparing to leave.

Alastor just grabbed you back into a tight embrace, his face propped against your shoulder. "I knew it was you, little bunny." The nickname only made you more uncomfortable than ever as you remembered the intimate moment when he first gave you that nickname.

"What's wrong, little bunny?"

The moment he spoke, your wings shot up, pushing him away from you and slapping his body aside. You flew up as he stumbled onto the pristine roads of heaven.

Don't come near me again, you wanted to say, but you couldn't find the courage to spit in the face of your murderer, not even now.

So, this time, you ran away.

You should have done that years ago. Maybe you would have lived longer then.

[pt.2]

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x female reader #alastor fic #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #the radio demon

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teyamsatan · 11 months

Text

𝔏𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔦𝔫' 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔧𝔬𝔟

dilf!jake x f!reader

wc: 2.5k words

warnings: 18+ minors DNI (I MEAN IT), pwp, smut (praise kink through the fucking roof, bondage, p in v, fingering, oral - f and m receiving, age gap, dacryphilia, daddy kink, choking, pet names, overstimulation, semi-public sex, spanking, anal play, toy use, slight degradation kink, multiple orgasms, cockwarming), mentions of blood/spit, strong language, this list is endless wtf

a/n: once more it is clear that i ain't seeing the pearly white gates of heaven anytime soon, but outside of that, i dedicate this fic to lys' coochie

also pls do yourself a favour and listen to russ - nasty while u read this ok enjoy xo

I know everyone wants a pretty girl like you You look so good when you put me inside you Listen, there ain't nothin' like that moan when the tip's in Good God, look at you, you're doin' such a good job

"you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, right?"

you have to admit to yourself that when you started being trained under the tutelage of the toruk makto, the mighty olo'eyktan of the omaticaya, this isn't at all how you envisioned it going - but at this exact moment, limbs spread widely and tied up to the pillars of his tent, a blindfold covering your eyes and heightening all your other senses, his raspy, soft voice filling your ears while his hands are massaging the plush skin of your inner thighs, you can't find it in you to care.

"i need words, baby girl."

"y-yes, daddy. i'll be g-good, i promise."

"that's my girl."

"you look so good like this, kid. so, so good."

his hands trail gently over your body in barely-there touches, that set every inch of your body on fire, alight with anticipation and ache, desperate for more, needy for the pleasure you knew he was going to provide. it doesn't matter how many times you've found yourself like this, sprawled naked in his tent, contorted in whatever position he deemed appropriate at any one time, it would always be as intense as the first time - he wouldn't have it any other way.

when he reaches your breasts, his hand stalls, capturing a nub in between his thumb and index, no longer just a fluttering whisper of a caress but a pressured twisted unwieldy grip that makes a moan escape your parted lips and you hear his low chuckle, the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, second only to the uninhibited groan that he he can't help but exhale whenever you milk his cock dry.

"you have the prettiest tits i've ever seen, baby. perfect, just like the rest of you."

you feel the tingling in your extremities from the way the ropes tug at your wrists and ankles, but it's nothing compared to the throbbing in your core as his hand finds your throat and squeezes, as you feel the air getting knocked out of you, as the darkness no longer just envelopes your sight but the whole of you, as his cock, hard and unclothed, teases your entrance with a uncontrolled twitch, and the feel of it makes you squirm, pulling on your restraints in order to bring your legs together, to no avail.

Jake lets go of your neck with a dissatisfied tsk. You gasp when his canines sink into your lower lips and bite until it hurts and you feel the rusty taste of blood inundating your mouth. His tongue swipes the excess fluid before he kisses you, roughly and carelessly and you love it, love the feel of his mouth on yours, of his hands on your throat, love nothing more than being just daddy's little girl.

"if you want to get fucked tonight, kid, you have to be good, remember?"

"but d-daddy... i need you... i need to s-see you, i n-need your...cock, please, daddy!"

you couldn't help the way your voice was breaking and words stuttered as his unrelenting teasing made the throbbing sensations and ache to be filled reach torturous heights, or the way tears pricked painfully at your eyes as you couldn't stand not seeing him, not being able to tell what he'll do next, not being able to move your thighs to ease some of the discomfort.

"shh, princess... you have to trust daddy, mm? you know daddy will take care of his little girl."

you're sure the mewl you let out as he slips two fingers in your dripping cunt would be heard in the whole village and you knew he loved it - he loved when you screamed, and yelled, loved when you had to walk through the forest marked and bruised for everyone to see, loved when his cum was dripping down your thighs and how your scent was forever permeated by his own, so nobody could ever question who you belonged to.

his fingers were skilled and deliberate as they moved inside of you, curling on a spongy part that made you shut your eyes tightly and allow the tears to finally fall down your contorted face, his thumb drawing shapes on your clit, that was now red and swollen, desperate for more pressure.

"more, daddy, i need more!" the sobs stir something inside Jake, balls heavy and itching to spill their load inside you, but not yet. you weren't ready yet.

"why're you crying, kid? you need to be stuffed with daddy's cock so badly?"

asking questions he already knew the answers to seemed pointless and unnecessary, but he needed to hear you say it, or moan it, or mumble it - needed to see you, crying and helpless, just a little doll who needs someone to show you what you deserve, what you can take. you'd be wasted on a scrub your own age, who would never know how to handle you, who would never know what to do with you. you needed a man, and he was more than happy to fill that role for you, and... anything else that needed it.

the reality is better than any fantasy his mind could have concocted as you nod aggressively, breasts bouncing as you pull once more on the harness that's starting to hurt your wrists just enough that to walk the line between pleasure and pain.

"soon, baby. you're not ready for it yet. need to stretch this little pussy before you can take me, you know this."

his pace increases as his long digits slip in and out of you, as his lips find your clit and suck on it, as his tongue laps at the juices that you couldn't help coat his face and fingers with, and you feel every ounce of power and self slip away from your grasp, slowly but surely becoming just a tangled mess of feeling, chaotic and overpowering, no thoughts outside of how much you wanted this, how much you needed him, how much this man had a tight hold on every facet of your being and you happily gave it up, knowing there's no better feeling then being wholly owned.

"that's it, come for daddy."

it pushes you over the edge, the purr of his voice and the vibrations they release on your folds, and you come, loudly and uninhibitedly, shaking as your orgasm washes over you in intense waves of pleasure that go on and on, as his tongue and fingers stretch you, until you're so overstimulated you find your tears once more, your screams dwindling into whines you couldn't help release.

"i know, princess. doing so well for me. doing so well for daddy."

"open your mouth."

as always, when it came to jake sully, you obeyed without question. his fingers find their way down your throat and you immediately close your lips around them, swirling your tongue around and in between them, sucking them dry the way you would his cock, that you couldn't wait choke on later tonight. you loved the taste of your own cum on him, and so you cleaned his fingers thoroughly before he pulled them out and wrapped them around the blindfold that was covering your eyes.

"such a good girl. now i want you to watch as daddy fills you with his cock."

it felt sometimes you spent more times like this than not, overwhelmingly full, shaking in earth-shattering pleasure, this time on all fours, this time with a human contraption you have never imagined would ever exist, but not only it did, it was stuffed in you to the brim, sending waves of vibrations throughout your entire body, while jake watched intently, circling you so he can see you come undone from every angle.

"you like that, huh? 'course you do, kid. my baby's just a little slut, just wants her holes filled, don't you?"

you couldn't find it in you to answer, not when the little machine shook you to the core, not when you couldn't decide what was taking precedence in your mind: the sensations that were so powerful they were making patches appear in your vision, the sight of Jake's hands tightly wrapped around his cock, pumping himself vigorously while he watched you fall apart in front of him, or the worries that someone will definitely see and hear you, be it as you were, just barely covered by shrubbery, in a place that Na'vi frequented way too often - almost in view, just how he liked it.

"answer me, princess."

you nod quietly, trying to stifle the moans as his palm makes contact with the plush of your ass, the slap loud enough to attract attention if anybody were to be close, and your orgasm comes sharply into focus, so close you can taste it, and you knew that when it came, it would be enough to bring you to your knees, something he seems to have accounted for. when he increases the intensity with the little remote he had in between his fingers, you lower yourself until your face makes contact with your extended arm. before you know it, you bite down on the skin as hard as you can, canines drawing blood at the way you were trying to be quiet - anything to minimise the chance of being caught. it all becomes too much to handle when he spreads your ass and spits on it, lubricating you enough to push two fingers in your tight hole, and you cry out a muffled cry when you come, convulsing as you ride out your high, as you squirt all over the vibrator, gushes of liquid dripping down your thighs.

he pulls out of you and circles you once more, until he's facing you, and you can barely see straight, crying from being overstimulated, unable to distinguish pain from pleasure, as the toy still moves inside of your abused cunt, unrelenting and too intense.

his hand wraps around your hair, tugging on it til the bite marks were all that was left of your mouth on your forearm, and you look at him through your eyelashes, trying not to get distracted by how his cock was slapping on your cheek.

"sweet girl, if you want something to keep you from making sounds, i have something so much better than an arm. now, be a good girl and let daddy fuck this pretty mouth, how's that sound?"

you smile a sheepish smile, cunt clenching around the vibrator once more, as jake strokes his thick cock, the sweet precum falling over your lips and chin, and you don't waste a drop, swiping your tongue over your lower lip to catch all of it, moaning at the taste.

"open y'r mouth for me, kid."

jake is gentle as he slowly enters you, letting you adjust to his thick girth that presses on the roof of your mouth, your tongue flat against the underside of his length, loving the feel of every vein and memorising every curve and indentation as he slides further in, gagging as his tip tickles the back of your throat. saliva coats his cock and spills down his balls, and you want to protest slightly, when it feels like you can't breathe anymore, when the tears push past your glossy eyes and down your cheeks, until his words remind you who's in charge, and that, while he is, obeying means pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.

"relax, baby girl." his thumb traces your under eye, gathering the salty drops before they can stain your perfect face. "relax for daddy. breathe through your nose. there you go, princess. just like that."

you mewl, able to fit even more of him in you, and the sound reverberates through his length and you watch as he pushes his head back, a thin layer of sweat barely visible on his beautiful face, scarred from years of fights and battle, some of which happened when you were just a baby, an ever-present reminder of the differences between you, that you not only didn't mind, but were what drew you to him in the first place. jake is strong, and capable. he is mighty and revered. he knows you, knows what you want, what you need. he knows your mind needs quieting, and to be devoid of thoughts and worries, and while you were in his presence, he was more than happy to empty that pretty little head of yours and fill your body with his cum instead.

"f-fuck, that's right. good girl. taking daddy's cock so well, mm? my best girl."

his hand finds the top of your head as he pets you, soft caresses enough to spur you on, and you suck on his length enthusiastically, focusing on the tip whenever he pulls out before thrusting himself back in, using your mouth like a toy to get himself off. the groans he makes are low and unrestrained and it sends bouts of electricity throughout your whole body. you did this to him. you were bringing this great man to the edge of his self-control, and that thought alone was enough to heighten all the sensations given by the machine still vibrating in your soaked cunt and his cock stuffed down your throat, and when you come again, he does, too, and you make sure to swallow everything he gives you, watching as he pulls out, still stroking himself so some of his warm, sticky cum paints your face, just the way he likes it.

"you look so pretty like this, kid. red eyes, rosy cheeks, swollen lips, face covered in my cum. perfect for me, aren't you? daddy's little slut."

nights, when jake slips into your tent after everyone's asleep, are filled with slower, gentler, quiet times, where his big body cages you in, his arms draped across your sides, his large hands caressing your breasts and abdomen, and you feel safe in him, in his comforting presence and his sensual, praising words. you go to sleep with his cock deep in you, the way you wish to spend every minute of your every day. you can't help the way you stir in your sleep, desire building up in you from the feel of his length dragging along your walls as you move, from how his breath fans across the nape of your neck, sending tingles down your spine. you let out a soft mewl as you start grinding on him, unsure whether you want him to wake up or not, unable to come to a decision before his hoarse voice startles you.

"you're gonna kill an old man like me, kid. fucked you dumb 'til you passed out and you still need more?"

his fingers dig into your hips, pushing you back on his length until he bottoms out in you, and you yelp, the sensation overwhelming.

"go ahead, then. daddy wants to see you fuck yourself on his cock."

you smile and oblige. no matter how life would ever change for you, you knew you'd be alright, because he would always be here to take care of you and you'd always be daddy's little girl.

happy daddy jake's day and i hope you enjoyed my little present, besties 🫶🏻

taglist: @headsincloud9 @teyamsbitch @lanasblood @yagirlheree @fanboyluvr @jakexneytiri (you didn't ask to be tagged dani bb but this is for torturing me yesterday)

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d10nyx · 3 months

Text

slice of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, religious themes, p in v, soft, fluffy sex and a little crying

a/n: i was gonna wait to post, but thought i’d drop this fic before uni starts up again so you guys could have a little something before my posting becomes more infrequent! hope you like it :)

word count: 1.1k words

“Are you sure you want this?” The words are whispered breathlessly against the skin of your neck, Leon's lips brushing you lightly, his grip strong on your waist. What he means to say is, are you sure you want me? But the words get caught in his throat. He can't ruin this moment. He doesn't want to scare you off. You nod softly, lips parted as your soft breaths fall from between them.

”Yeah… please.” You murmur, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access. A shudder of heat runs through Leon, his fingers tightening around you. He sucks marks into your skin, claiming you. A way to tell himself you’re really his. You’re not going to slip from his grasp and become lost. You won’t be another name on the list of the people that have left him. He wouldn’t survive it.

I’m not good enough for you. I’m a broken man. We can’t be together.

He forces that part of himself under wraps, ignoring the feelings you inspire within him. As gentle as possible, Leon lets his fingers drift away. I’ll hurt you. I’ll tear your life apart. I’m not capable of love.

He can’t keep his hands off of you for long. He’s never been able to. His palms slide up your arms as gently as he can manage before he cups your cheeks tenderly, tilting your face up to meet his. He holds you carefully, like you’ll break if his grip tightens even slightly. His eyes duck down to your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as he bends his head down slightly to meet your lips. You taste like everything he’s ever wanted. Like Heaven just opened its gates and bestowed its blessing upon him.

For the first time in his life, he can feel his heart pounding, his hands trembling, in a good way. You feel like everything he’s ever wanted. You’re so sweet, so… perfect. The only time his brain doesn’t try to eat him alive is when he’s with you. You make him forget. Nothing he’d ever do would be able to thank you enough for the brief reprieve you give him from his thoughts. Sometimes, he hopes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, put him six feet under where he belongs.

Maybe he belonged with you. Like this.

He pulls away hesitantly, afraid this is all a trick, that once more, his happiness had been snatched out from under him. But your lips curve into a smile, and your hand rests on his jaw. That tells him that this is real.

You are real.

”I love you.” He croaks out, his breathing shallow. He’s tearing up. God, is this what he’s come to? He’s already so pathetic that a simple kiss is enough to send him reeling. His thumb brushes the corner of your lip, the curve of it. All he wants is to make you happy, even if it means he’ll have to let you go. His innocence died years ago, ripped cruelly from his grasp before he had an opportunity to even appreciate it. You still have it - that light in your eyes. A sense of hope in this world.

He hopes that if he sticks close enough to you some of that will rub off on him. Make him whole again. He’d worship you gladly, spend hours on his knees buried between your thighs. He’s not good with words, but he’ll show you how much he loves you. How much he craves your presence.

“I love you, too.” God, your voice. It makes his knees weak. Those words alone feel like enough for him, like all his sins would have been forgiven. He didn’t deserve you, but you were here. With him. Maybe God was rewarding him for his years of suffering, the nightmares that still haunt him at night. His own tiny piece of Heaven, wrapped up in a pretty bow and presented right for him in his arms.

His lips meet yours again, more desperately this time. You kiss him back just as passionately, his tongue probing at your bottom lip before sliding into your mouth. His hands grip at your shirt, slowly tugging it off. It’s not long before the two of you are in a tangle of limbs, greedily tugging at each other’s clothes as you collapse onto the bed.

”Leon, please. Need you.” You pant, the sound of his name on your tongue is both torture and mercy all at once. Call out his name, and he’ll be baptised. Born anew, washed free of his sins. Never in his life has he found a more beautiful sound than how your lips say his name. If he could, he’d have it on a constant loop in his head. It drives him insane, festering in the depths of his mind. You’d cared your name into his heart, made a home for yourself in his head. He’d never be free of you, and he’s not sure he wants to be.

”I got you, honey.” He manages after a moment of just staring at you. He lines himself up carefully with your drippy hole, pushing himself inch by inch inside of you. He moves so slowly, his hands caressing your side as he continues to push until he’s buried fully inside your heat.

“Fuck, baby. So good.” He says quietly, his voice cracking. He grinds his hips against your momentarily, shuddering as he hears you moan. He pulls out and thrusts back in, a small sob leaving him. You’re so quick to comfort him, your hands on his cheeks, rubbing at his cheeks.

”God, ‘m so sorry. Just needed this, sweet girl. Needed to feel close to you.” He pants out, shaking slightly as he thrusts sloppily into your wet cunt. His hand slips down your stomach slowly, his palm resting below your belly button. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles into it.

”That good for you, baby?” He asks gently, his eyes finding yours as he increases the pace of his thrusts slightly. He’s not gonna last long this time. Not when he’s been away from his precious girl for so long. He smiles a little when you nod, increasing the pressure before angling his hips to hit your sweet spot with every thrust.

He relishes in the sounds of your moans, how sweet it sounds as you babble his name over and over again. He lets out a slight whimper at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock as you cum, your back arching as you gush all over him. He thrusts shallowly a few more times before he’s pulling out, cumming all over the inside of your thighs. He leans over to grab his shirt, wiping you off gently before chucking it to the side. He pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead and caressing your back gently.

When he dies, he doesn’t think he’ll go to Heaven. But that’s alright, ‘cause he’s found his own slice of it right here on earth.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #resident evil smut

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eroticdarling · 5 months

Text

Song Fic

B☆NN1E 4ND CLYD3

Kakucho × Reader

☆ Cw — ♡ Poc!Reader ♡ Pussy Eating ♡ Vaginal Fingering ♡ Soft Smut ♡ Pet Names (Darling × My Love × Love × Baby × Honey) ♡ Light Choking ♡ Hair Gripping ♡ Praising Kink ♡ Tongue Fucking ♡ Begging Kink ♡ Loud Moaning ♡ Sir Kink ♡

♡ A/n — ☆ Gonna start doing these song fics when I wanna match a song with a character bc I swear every time I listen to a song I think of a certain character nd then wanna make a fic 😩✨️. Nd yes, another pussy eating fic because there's something about it that makes me melt... Bleh idc.

♡ MINORS DNI ♡

(☆)

Bonnie and Clyde by Tink

Kakucho had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. From the moment y'all met, he knew he had found his soulmate. You had an intoxicating energy that he found irresistibly attractive. He loved how you were always fun-loving, open-minded, and never held your tongue for no one.

With you around, his days seemed brighter.

When you both got married, it was like heaven opened the pearly gates for this man. He was in tears when he saw you walk down the aisle with your beautiful white dress. When y'all made your vows, it came from the heart, and promised through sickness and in health, you both would love each other.

Not only was your marriage great, but the sex was as well. Every time he got home from work or when he was off, he would greet you by going behind you and gently grab your waist while kissing your soft melanin skin that smelled like (Your favorite fragrance).

Or when you're sitting down, he would hover over you while holding your hips and kissing your lips all the way down to your chest.

It instantly made you get butterflies in your stomach, and it didn't matter where you were or what you were doing. If he wanted to show you how much he loved or missed you, then trust and believe he would.

You were bending over the kitchen counter on your phone when you were met with familiar hands gripping your waist with his lower abdomen pressing up against your ass.

"Hey Baby," you greeted your husband with a smile as you put your phone down and sat up straight.

His lips then started to plant soft kisses on your moisturized skin.

"Hey my love," He said as he moved one of his hands up to your neck and lightly grabbed it to make you look at him so he could kiss you.

Your lips connected with his, and the kiss was deep and passionate but also desperate. He wanted you so much, and you could tell by the way he kissed you.

His hand let go of your neck, and you broke the kiss for a second to fully turn around and kiss him again with your hands, now palming his warm, blushed face.

The kiss broke once more when Kakucho lifted you up and sat you down on the counter. He kneeled down in between your legs, inches away from your pussy and looked up at you.

"May I, Darling?" He asked for your permission, even though he already knew the answer.

"Of course you can, love." you said, giving him the warmest smile.

His hands unbuttoned your jean pants and pulled them off, "what are you doing this time?" You questioned him because everytime this happened he would either fuck you or eat you out.

"Eating what's mine." He said in a soft tone.

He didn't waste any time in pulling your silky panties off with his teeth while making eye contact.

The way he did this sent tingles from your stomach to your cunt which had your juices dripping down your thighs.

He took the panties from in between his teeth and threw them on the floor before taking your legs and putting them on both of his shoulders.

Kakucho dipped his head down and started off by giving your sweet pussy kitten licks. His tongue slid between your folds then swirled your clit.

While he had his tongue work on your clit, his fingers made its way to your hole dipping his middle and index fingers inside since he didnt need to wet them cause you were already wet. The feeling made you put both hands on his head and gripped his jet black hair.

He was sending you Euphoria how he was multitasking with your pussy. Other than his love, this was another feeling you wanted to feel forever. You loved your husband, and there was no other man that could make you feel like how he made you feel.

"Fuck~ Baby, your tongue feels so good." You moaned out in praise.

He acted like he didn't like it when you praised him, but in reality, he loved it. Every time you praised him, it made him feel like he won a trophy.

He removed his fingers from your abused hole and replaced them with his tongue. When he inserted his tongue, he wasted no time in fucking it into you at a fast speed.

You wrapped your legs around his neck for more support and gripped his hair a bit tighter from the ecstasy. Your head went back, and your body was heating up because of him.

You could also feel the tears form from the corners of your eyes cause of how good he was tongue fucking you with your sweet moans and wet noises filling the kitchen area.

Of course, you weren't the only one who was feeling good because Kakucho was too. The way the sounds combined together was like music to his hears, and his cock was feeling even tighter in his boxers.

He wanted to stop everything he was doing to pull out his dick and pound into you to the point where you couldn't walk for days, but he held himself back.

He wanted to wait until you finally came to do it because he wanted to pleasure you first.

His fingers moved up to your clit and roughly circled it once more making you feel a tight knot in your stomach that was aching to be released.

"Honey, slow down, It's too much!" You moaned out, earning a smirk from your husband.

His first priorities now were making a mess of you and hearing you beg. Some things he also secretly enjoyed, seeing you beg for him to slow down and speed up while you came all over his face or cock was perfect to him.

Your whining and begs for him to slow down only made him go faster. As your moans got louder, his fast pace stayed the same.

Sweat beads were forming from your foreheads, and you could also feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm.

Your walls were clenching onto Kakucho tongue which gave him the impression of you getting ready to cum.

"Cum on my tongue, Princess." He pulled his tongue out to say to you.

"Yes, sir." You moaned with your face all blushed out.

His tongue went back in your pussy and he continued where he had left off, but this time found a way to also add a finger in at the same time and it made you go insane.

The way his tongue and fingers worked inside of you edged your orgasm on, and you physically couldn't take it.

"I'm about to cum, Kaku!" You said as you felt like the knot in your stomach was about to untie.

Kakucho went faster, pushing you closer and closer to your climax. It only took him to put his free hand to work and softly circled your clit which made you cum hard.

You coated his tongue, fingers, and the bottom half of his face, which made his dick twitch.

He couldn't stop here, so when you both finally caught your breaths and calmed down, he picked you up from the counter.

"Sorry, princess, but we're not done yet." He stated as you wrapped your legs and arms around his hips and neck, then laid your head on his shoulder.

"Can we go out for dinner tonight then?" You asked remembering you had to cook before he came home but was too busy procrastinating.

"Anything for you, Darling." He said, making his way upstairs to y'all shared bedroom.

"I'll Be Your Bonnie"

#✎ᝰsʟᴜᴛ sᴍᴜᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀsᴜʀʏ。°˖⌕#anime headcanons #anime smut #anime writing blog #smut writing #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers x female reader #kakucho hitto #bonten kakucho #kakucho x reader #kakucho smut #kakucho #kakucho hitto smut #soft smut #fluff smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader

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ggwritesstuff · 2 years

Note

heyyy i have this request for like 1970 elvis or something like that, or basically any one you feel like writing for … can you do a fic where elvis and the reader are together and right before a show they’re basically like begging for him but he has to go on and the reader gets upset and frustrated and so they let someone flirt with them in the crowd during the show and they can tell he saw them bc he started acting really different and sarcastic on stage and then afterwards he gets really jealous and basically drags you to his car on the way back home and while you’re in the car he does like one thing like maybe getting really close to them in the car with like a rough, angry voice and the reader has an orgasm and he acts differently than you’ve ever seen him and when you get home he does like everything to you bc he knows he’s the only one who can ever truly please you???

Safety.

pairing: elvis x reader

warnings: absolute filth. smut. 18+ mdni. reader is a major brat. elvis has a jealousy kink problem. some degradation. elvis is a major tease. mild fem masturbation. some face fucking. creampie lol. a little bit of elvis being in his feelings. one tiny mention of infidelity. prob missing some so as always please read at your own discretion <3

a/n: 70s elvis does absolutely sinful things to me. i am a whore. thank u anon. i am sweating. i am feral. this is very long. like i said my smuts are always slow burns for some reason lol. i think this is the filthiest thing i have ever written. it got a bit fluffy at the end.

a/n part 2: i don’t proofread or else i’ll delete everything and never write again lol enjoy and pls excuse any errors. feedback is always encouraged, and i hope i did your idea justice anon <3

You felt pathetic.

You were pathetic.

But you couldn’t help it. He just had this affect on you that made you feel like a bitch in heat.

You basically had him pinned against the door of his dressing room, your legs wrapped around his torso and holding on for dear life while your face was nuzzled into the crook of his neck. The angle made it so easy to reach that one spot on his neck you knew he couldn’t resist giving into.

“E.P., five minutes ‘til curtain, let’s move.” A stage hand knocked on the door.

“Darlin’ please, I gotta go, alright?” Elvis pried you off of him, setting you back on your feet. “I love how much you want me, baby, but I can’t be goin’ out there as hard as a rock and end up messing another suit.” He joked, alluding to the incident of his comeback special.

“Fine, go.” You huffed, your sexual frustration seemed to get the better of you in the moment.

“Don’t be catchin’ an attitude with me. I’ll take care of you later, I promise.” He said sternly, cupping your cheek with his hand to pull you in for a quick kiss before running out of the room, only a minute to spare until the show began.

You were pissed. You know you shouldn’t have been, but you couldn’t help it. He always left you such a desperate mess for him, you were starting to think he got off on denying you.

His dramatic introduction echoed throughout the area. You turned to the mirror behind you to fix yourself up before you headed out to watch him perform. You stopped at the bar for a drink before going to your table, lord knew you needed one to keep your composure for the next hour.

Vodka soda in hand, you made your way to your seat to join the rest of the Memphis Mafia. You watched from the crowd as the man you adored moved in ways that created thoughts you were sure would bar you from the gates of heaven. You were entirely hypnotized by him.

He knew damn well what he was doing to you, too. He glanced in your direction, locking eyes with you as he let out such an obscene grunt that gave you flashbacks to the night before. You felt a flutter between your thighs as you recalled those events.

It’s like you both were playing a game of chicken, waiting to see who would snap first.

Your arousal began to feel overwhelming, your cheeks burned up when you felt yourself clenching around nothing. You stood from your seat on weak, shaky legs and made your way back to the bar where it was a bit less humid. The bartender brought you another drink and you sat on the stool, turned around to continue watching Elvis on stage.

Suddenly, a tall figure appeared in your peripheral vision, taking a drink from the bartender. “How’s the show been?” He asked, subtly biting at his lower lip.

“Oh, it’s been good.” You said, not really paying him much mind.

“I’m Collin.” He extended his hand, inviting you for a handshake.

You were still so aroused by Elvis’s little torturous game that even a handshake from a man of average attractiveness set your nerves ablaze.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” You looked up at him with innocent doe eyes, giving him the look that would have had Elvis bending you over the bar making you scream his name. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, focusing back on Collin.

You would never cheat on Elvis, though. This little back and forth with Collin was simply some harmless flirting. Just a little something to get Elvis riled up. You knew he was constantly scanning the room in search for you, you caught his eyes a handful of times in your conversation with Collin.

The night went on until the last song of Elvis’s set, his eyes were glued to you and Collin for the duration of it. You turned your head to meet his gaze, you’d never seen him as green with jealousy as he was in that moment. You decided it was time to head backstage before the song ended so you said goodnight to Collin, placing a hand on his broad shoulder as you walked away and practically having a staring contest with Elvis on stage. You already knew you were in for it tonight anyways.

You made your way backstage again, watching from the side as the curtain fell in front of Elvis. He rose from his kneeled stance and beelined right towards you.

“Let’s go.” He said sternly in your ear, his hand was placed on the small of your back, ushering you forward as he shouted a general goodnight to the crew. Security opened the back door for him and he lead you to the car, opening the door for you.

“What the hell was all that at the bar?” He asked as he climbed in. He was trying to keep his composure but you could see right through it. He was furious. You had him right where you wanted him. You shrugged in response as you tried to keep your lips from curling into a smirk, but he saw right through that.

“That’s how you want this to go tonight?” Elvis raised an eyebrow at you. “Y’know, baby, I was gonna go real easy on you tonight. I was gonna make love to you.” He placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing it harshly as he started the car. “But I don’t think that’s what you want. I mean, why would my angel go and act like a little slut if she didn’t want to be treated like one, right?”

You were already soaked when he swiftly shoved two long, calloused fingers in you. The sudden feeling of fullness caught you off guard, but it was more than welcomed. Your back arched away from the seat and a high pitched whine escaped your lips.

He chuckled at your reaction, curling his fingers inside you and turning you into putty in his hands. “Fuckin’ drenched. This for me or for the guy you were makin’ googly eyes with at the bar, huh?”

“All for y-you, El. Been soaked all night cause of you.” You admitted, clinging to the seat for stability as Elvis continued to work his fingers in you as he drove home, his other hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. He was pissed, and you couldn’t have been more turned on.

Elvis threw the car in park as soon as he pulled into the driveway. He stepped out and walked around to open your door because he’s still a gentleman despite his jealousy fueled rage and the ever tightening of his pants as his own arousal grew. Without words, he offered his hand to assist you in getting out of the car.

Once you were on your feet, he stopped you before you could walk inside. “Here’s how this is gonna go, darlin’. You’re gonna take those panties off and give ‘em to me. You’re gonna walk inside and I’m gonna take that cute little dress of yours, and you’re gonna go wait on the bed for me.” Elvis explained. You were a bit shocked by this level of dominance from him. He always had a bit of a dominant edge to him in the bedroom but this was different. It was exciting.

“Yes, sir.” You said quietly, biting on your lower lip.

“Panties now, please.” He demanded, holding his hand out as he waited for you to peel them off and place them in his hand. He toyed with the fabric between his fingers, feeling just how damp you had been all night. “What got you all wet and needy, princess?”

“Just watching you all night.” You breathed out as he ushered you in the house and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. Before you could go upstairs to wait for him like he said, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against him. He went in for your neck, and instead of the sensual kisses you were used to, you felt his teeth biting at the skin, letting your blood rise to the surface and coloring your skin, drawing a moan from you.

“Upstairs. I’ll come up when I come up. No touching.” He stated, calm yet still stern. A light smack on your ass nudged you upstairs.

Now upstairs and waiting like he said to, you debated with yourself on whether you wanted to be good for him or be a brat. You were still a bit annoyed with him for leaving you all hot and bothered before the show. That was enough to make up your mind. Brat it was.

With your mind now made, you got yourself comfy on your shared bed, legs spread wide as you disobeyed Elvis’s order not to touch yourself. You wanted to push his buttons a bit tonight, and you were desperate for any stimulation you could get. You trailed your fingers down to your core, gathering some of your wetness and gliding a finger around your clit. You almost could have came right there from how turned on you were. Quietly at first, whimpers tumbled from your lips, but your volume increased as your pleasure did.

Elvis’s footsteps were heavy coming up the staircase, you could hear him grumbling something under his breath until he reached the bedroom. “My god, you’re like a bitch in heat. Too damn turned on to keep your hands outta that pussy.” He scolded, you could only moan in response to his degrading words as you watched him remove the robe he had changed into after sending you upstairs. Standing only in his boxers, he made his way over to you on the bed, taking your hand away from your clit and prohibiting any further pleasure for the moment, ignoring your whining protests.

“Kneel on the floor, gonna put that mouth to good use.” He ordered, pulling his cock out from his boxers and giving it a few strokes while you assumed your position at his feet with your mouth open. “Look at you, such a good slut for me.” Elvis marveled at the sight beneath him, tangling his fingers in your hair as you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. “Fuckin’ shit.” He groaned out as the warmth of your mouth enveloped him as much as possible. With hollowed cheeks you continued to take him as deep as you can, gagging around his length when he hit the back of your throat.

“Hold on-“ He muttered, stilling your movements. You stared up at him with those doe eyes that drove him to the brink of insanity with his cock still in your mouth, running your tongue around whatever surface of skin you could. “Shit, doll- Lemme fuck your pretty face.” He managed to get out. You gave him a slight nod allowing him to use you as he pleases.

Just like that, he was animalistic. He used your hair as leverage as he mercilessly thrusted himself into your mouth, relishing the feeling when you would swallow around him. Strings of profanities left his plump lips before pulling out, his tip left your lips with a small pop. You whined at the loss, but he brought a hand to cup your cheek, gently stroking your face with the pad of his thumb and sucking on it when he ghosted it against your lips.

“C’mon, up on the bed.” Elvis offered his hand again to help you up from the floor. He sat you down on the silky soft bedsheets, resting his hand on your thigh once again. “Tell me something- you ever think about goin’ and finding another man?” He asked, laying you down gently.

“No, sir. Just want you.” You confessed, beginning to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction as your desperation continued to grow.

“Why is that, doll? You love me?” Elvis asked, sneaking his hand down to pry your legs apart, letting his fingers drag themselves through your folds and smirking to himself at the feeling of your wetness and the way you writhed under his touch. “Or is it cause you know ain’t no other man can make you this messy just barely touching you?”

Something about that question did something to you. He was right. He knew he was right. This man could play you like a fiddle without even touching you. “B-both.” You stuttered while Elvis indulged himself in toying with your pussy that was now unbelievably sensitive due to how aroused you were. You were already overstimulated, seemingly just by his mere presence.

“Tell me, mama. You tell me I’m the only one who could make you cum just by listening to me gruntin’ and groanin’ up on stage and I’ll give you the world.” He said sweetly, teasing his middle finger at your entrance before filling you with it and making you cry out.

His demeanor had softened compared to earlier, he was calmer, not as angry. But he was still jealous that you had given Collin more attention than you did to his show, and this was his way of getting the reassurance he craved. This was how he was finding the security he feared losing.

“The only one, Elvis, please.” You were begging for more at this point.

“That’s right, mama. ” He cooed in your ear, removing his fingers from you and positioning himself between your legs that were now shaking. Elvis lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the sight and sound of you all strung out under him, all strung out for him, whimpering for him.

Without warning, he snapped his hips forward, plunging into you with a groan. You cried out as he filled you, hands instinctively flying to his back where your nails anchored themselves for stability as he rutted into you. His thrusts were desperate, it was almost as if he was trying to get even closer than just being inside you.

The last several hours you had spent so hungry for him were coming to a head, the coil in your belly had been wound up so tightly, you worried that he would have you cumming around him in less than two minutes.

“Don’t you ever go ‘round thinking you’ll get this feeling from another man.” Elvis said as he wrapped his hand around your throat with just enough pressure to dizzy you, filling you with ecstasy.

“All yours, El, I promise.” You panted while he fucked himself into you, muttering under his breath about his good little slut as he lost himself in between thrusts. His sweat dripped from his forehead and onto your chest, a slight sheen blanketed your breasts.

“That’s right, angel. All mine.” His thrusts turned sloppy as soon as he reached between your hot bodies to paw at your clit, you were squeezing his cock like a vice and he wasn’t sure he could last much longer.

He slowed his pace while he toyed with your clit, savoring the sensation of how you clenched up around him; it nearly sent shivers down his spine. The pressure and speed he applied to your clit combined with the way he was hitting that sweet spot within you with each stroke brought you right to the edge, verging on tumbling off at any moment now.

“l- fuck, I’m close-“ You managed to form the words, you could hardly recognize your own voice.

Elvis lifted his head from the crook of your neck for a moment. “Go ‘head, and cum for me, doll”. He allowed, increasing the speed of his thrusts again as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me like I’m the only one who can make you cum, cause that’s right, isn’t it?”

And oh god, did that do you in. His desire to be the only one for you. You clutched his strong arm as your orgasm tore through you; chanting his name like a prayer, like it was the only word in your vocabulary. Elvis was right behind you on that ledge, toppling over along with you. His hips stuttered in you as your walls contracted around him and he found his sweet, sweet release spilling inside you with a strangled moan. You rode your orgasms out together, his hips slowing as you squeezed around him, overstimulating him just a bit until he pulled out and collapsed next to you.

Your chests heaved in time, glistening with each others sweat as you caught your breath. Elvis regressed into a bit of a vulnerable state. “Don’t go pullin’ that shit again, darlin’. Can’t be letting my girl get swept away from me.” He mumbled into your skin as he nuzzled himself into your bare chest.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” You lovingly stroked his hair that was now laced with sweat. “You’ll always be the only one for me, I promise.” You reassured him with a kiss to his forehead. Elvis snaked his arm around your waist, beginning to drift off to asleep. You followed not far behind him, wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

This was safety. This was security.

#elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis fluff #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fluff #elvis 2022 #austin butler #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #austin butler fluff #austin!elvis

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Note

Is it possible to ask for a Shadowheart x fem durge tiefling please 🙏 I just want a fluffy little fic with gods favourite princess 😔

Dark Heart

Fem!Reader x Shadowheart

Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - gods favorite princess coming right up :,)

Word count - 1.4K

Warnings - Angstish, major spoilers for durge route, spoilers for Act three

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“You may not know who you are now, but I do. And the ‘you’ that I know is the you that I love.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The cool night wind did wonders for clearing your mind. It was late, late enough that most of your companions were asleep in their tents, closed off from the outside world.

But not you. No, sleep wouldn’t come for you even if you begged the heavens above. It was frustrating to say the least, needing sleep for the battle ahead but not being able to get it due to what exactly that battle meant. It had been only a couple of days since you had discovered your Bhaalspawn origin. Two days since it felt like your world came crashing down.

You couldn’t decide whether knowing or not knowing what you were was better. You knew there was something dark about your past. Something suffocatingly evil. But, you never would have guessed you were the whole reason behind The Absolute. The reason so many people had died and the reason your companions were now suffering for it.

You weren’t sure how to bring it up to your friends, worried that would be the last conversation you ever had.

Not to mention Shadowheart. Sweet Shadowheart.

Would she still look at you the way she did before? Small smiles and gentle kisses? Would she still stay up late into the night with you, drinking wine and sharing soft whispers? Would she still murmur those three words to you when no one was around to hear?

You weren’t sure. Even further, you weren’t sure you were ready to find out. The thought of giving up her presence was too much to bear. How would you continue on without her laughs, her embraces, her presence. Just without… her.

As if called by your own thoughts, you heard quiet footsteps approaching you. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, Shadowheart being the only one who could walk so quietly and the only one who would be looking for you so late into the evening.

“Bad dreams?” A light voice prodded, the dark haired half-elf sitting on the ground next to you.

You couldn’t meet her eyes, your fatigue making it all the more difficult to hide your emotions. “You have to sleep to have bad dreams.” You joked, trying to crack a smile.

Leaves crunched beneath Shadowheart as she shifted, leaning against your shoulder slightly. She felt warm against you, comfort seeping through to your bones at even the slightest touch.

“Not sleeping isn’t ideal, we need you strong to take back Baldur’s Gate.” She teased back.

There was a moment of silence and you could feel her eyes on you. You didn’t have to look to know how much concern was probably in her gaze. “I’m worried about you.” She whispered.

You lifted your gaze to the woman, finally meeting her emerald green eyes. Your voice was shaky when you responded, holding much more truth than your words, “I’m fine, my love. Truly.”

Her eyes filled with pity, obviously not believing what you had said. She leaned in close, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. Your shoulders relaxed as you returned the kiss, inhaling her scent of roses and wine. When you pulled back, the loss tugged at your heart painfully.

“I do not wish for you to see me at my worst.” You offered, wishing to spare her from what you were. What you !really were.

Shadowheart only smiled that sly gentle smile you loved, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. Her fingertips lingered for a moment before they trailed down to your chin, sending a shiver down your back.

“You’ve seen me at my worst.” She said, giving you a small laugh. “I think it’s high time you returned the favor.”

You bit your lip, weighing your options. Shadowheart would know if you were lying, ever perceptive of even your half truths. “What would you do if who I was before you met me, before I lost my memories… was bad?”

Shadowheart blinked for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “You’ve already told me about your more violent inclinations. But you’re fighting against them, yes? That��s all that matters to me. Why? Did you remember something about your past?”

You turned your head away, anxiety welling up in your chest. The words were right on the tip of your tongue, a flood of emotion just waiting for the one crack to split the dam. But you couldn’t. Your mouth felt dry, your hands clammy. As if an invisible force was keeping you from telling her the truth.

“You know you don’t have to be afraid to tell me.” Shadowheart assured, stroking your cheek with her thumb. “I don’t know much about my past either. Even after turning from Shar, I still worry there’s some part of me I’ll never get back.”

“But you know you were a good person at some point.” You responded. “Better than I ever could have been.” You leaned into her hand, hoping she would’ve press the subject further.

“How bad could you have possibly be-“ Shadowheart started, quickly cut off by your harsh tone.

“Bad, Shadowheart. Evil. Evil enough to be the reason all of this is happening.” You spit, leaning away from her hand and looking back at the ground. You hated to be so harsh, but part of you hoped that snapping at her would make the conversation go away. The desperate part of you hoped that her hurt feelings would be easier than her hatred if she knew. Knew what you really were.

Shadowheart brought back her hand to rest on her lap, her mouth pressing into a thin line. It was silent for a moment, the only sound being leaves rustled in the night breeze.

“What do you mean?” Shadowheart asked quietly.

You felt tears sting at the corner of your eyes, emotion and turmoil swirling in your chest like a monstrous storm. Some sick part of your mind chided you for being weak. Assured you that you should be !proud of who you once were. You stamped those thoughts down, trying your best to keep the tears from running down your cheeks.

“I’m a Bhaalspawn.” You choked out, “Orin didn’t come up with the plan for The Absolute with Gortash, I did. She just usurped me. I haven’t slept since I found out.” You paused, looking down in shame. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

You sat in silence waiting for Shadowheart to react, harsh words lashing out at you, pure silence as she stood up and left you forever, even a slap would be better than the absence of anything that she was giving you.

You flinched as you saw her hand out of the corner of your eye, sure she was going to take out her anger, but instead, a gentle touch tilted your head back to Shadowheart.

Her eyes had no anger in them, no downwards pity or distrust. They only held affection. Silent words passing between the two of you as she cupped your face. Tears fell freely now, running in streams down your cheeks. You stifled a sob, worried that once you started, you’d never stop.

“I don’t know who I am anymore.” You whispered, voice wet with emotion.

Shadow heart wiped a tear away with her thumb, reaching with her other hand to pull you into a tight embrace. She held you close, tucking your head against the crook of your neck and wrapping her arm around your waste. She stayed like for a moment, silent, petting your hair as your tears flowed.

Her voice was soft and warm when you spoke, whispering into your ear. “None of that matters to me. You may not know who you are now, but I do. And the ‘you’ that I know is the you that I love.”

Her words cracked the wall, bringing forth everything you had been feeling in the past days. Sobs wracked your body, exhaustion etching through your bones. Shadowheart clutched you tightly, humming a calming lullaby softly. Your eyes fluttered shut, relishing in the warmth and comfort of her arms.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up the next morning, the sunrise peaking above the skyline. You started to sit up before you realized you were still locked in Shadowheart embrace, the half elf fast asleep as she held you.

Her words from the night before played over in your head. They made you feel lighter, more free. Like you had a choice in what your destiny would be henceforth. Even if people considered you a monster, you would push through it, knowing you had Shadowheart’s undying trust.

You brushed Shadowheart’s fringe to the side, allowing yourself the small moment to appreciate her beauty as nature awoke around you. As you placed a gentle kiss against her forehead, you realized you were feeling something you’d never in your life experienced before.

True peace.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #Shadowheart #Shadowheart x tav #Shadowheart x durge #gods favorite princess #shadowheart x reader #bg3 Shadowheart #baldurs gate shadowheart

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remwrites · 1 year

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rem's scarian rec list

i felt like compiling my absolute favourite scarian fics. enjoy.

always check tags before reading!!! there's a big mix of fics here

in no particular order:

Ashes by Raichett

Grian's still soul-linked to Scar, even after their return from Double Life. He's not dealing with it particularly healthily, but after three death games, who would be in the best frame of mind?

(so beside myself with the implications of grian still being bound to scar after double life HO HO BOY... plus scar's agony at unknowingly hurting grian WOOF LOVE IT)

one word from you and i would jump off of this ledge i'm on by wizardlover

Grian and Scar deal with some of the fallout from Last Life.

(HRGERKGRKGERK this fic hurts so good. and the resolution is SO satisfying i've reread it like twenty times. and such fuckin good character voices too the dialogue is SMOOTH)

HCBBS (Hermitcraft Big Ballroom Scene) by romanocheese

Grian holds a ball to celebrate the finishing of the mansion. Scar appears in rather unexpected attire.

(SCAR IN A DRESS SCAR IN A DRESS SCAR IN A DRESS!!!! one of my first brainrot fics. adored showstopping amazing)

Beloved by spilledstardust

Scar has never played this game with the intention to win.

(this gut punch fic omg waaaaa the concept the execution i love)

a hundred kisses (then you start again) by backyardwizard

Grian and Scar spend the night together after finding out they're soulmates.

(this one always makes me feel shrimp emotions. the dialogue. the LOVE. GUUGRHHUH)

i am fed, but still i starve by definitelynotshouting

Another flash of teeth, dyed red in the light spilling through Grian's feathers. "The 'Not A Resistance' Resistance," he says, low and teasing, "would like to cordially invite you to kiss me stupid."

(HOT HOT HOT super well written the kiss is phenomenal the character voices kill me and i love this fic so much im gonna lay down in the road)

get me with those green eyes, baby by Anonymous

Another "soulmates share more than just pain" smutfic to add to the collective pile - now with preening!

(gurgles incoherently. this one gets me. im such a damn sucker for good dialogue and this one nails it along with the bonus of soulbonds AND preening? im in heaven)

yours were the arms (that the whole world was in) by sparxwrites

He’s even less surprised when Grian returns that evening, looking furtive and ashamed, and guiding a golden-eyed Scar by the hand through the still-rigged front gate.

(sneaks a lil mumscarian in here. listen. i think abt this one often bc of the very in depth character understanding and relationship dynamics. mmmmmm so good)

if you like it... by GoodTimesWithScar

or, the "you got so drunk you asked your husband if he was single" trope, but with added mumbo being 100% done with this nonsense.

(how could i not. this fic is so fluffy and amazing and made me laugh so hard)

my ever after / is holding you by LovesickPrince

someone decides kidnapping King Scar’s beloved servant was a good idea. It really wasn’t.

(i think abt this fic at least once a daily. you've probably read it but if you haven't do yourself a favour and do. these IDIOTS i love them so much they're so well done)

This isn't a Love Story by Sleepless_in_Southlands

Grian is a priest of Fate, willing to sacrifice everything to ensure Scar, destined to be his final victim in the arena, doesn't fall in love with him along the way. Unfortunately for him, Scar seems intent on doing just the opposite.

(i talk abt this fic CONSTANTLY literally so bonkers over it i love it im obsessed it's perfect. i love this dynamic this concept this everything. absolute top tier no joke)

pull me from the earth by Niamh (saturniidaemon)

a midnight meeting, flowers, and the complicated nature of love.

(y'all like pain? bc this is fucking pain. literally just beyond wild over this. tread carefully)

wait the worst is yet to come by glossyblue

Grian bounces on the balls of his feet, delighted. “Okay. Okay, okay, so. You need to know how it works, then, don’t you? Kiss me.”

(just found this recently and it has not left the microwave of my brain. last life scar hurts so bad. everything in this fic hurts so bad. i love it)

the synonym of companion by errorryx

fool

mirror

entrapment

partner

(i love playing with words this fic does it so so so well omg. wonderful)

cheers everyone!!! xox rem

#scarian #scarian rec list #hermitshipping #fic rec #i made this while very tired so if i screwed up a link lemme know LMAO

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 11 days

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WIP Wednesday - April 17th, 2024.

Preview of Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader)

A/N: Despite the awful messages I have been getting lately, berating me for 'not finishing things' - I want to start doing WIP Wednesday regularly. Sometimes the things I post will not be completed and posted on my other blog. That is normal. Sometimes ideas are abandoned in favour of other ideas. Sometimes things go unfinished for any number of reasons. I have a really good feeling about this fic - it's an idea that I have had in my head since I saw Season 5 of TWD for the first time, and I have been wanting to write this fic for years. Fics like this are usually bound to be finished by me purely out of dedication to an idea I have had for years.

If you want to see the full fic when it comes out, you can follow my writing blog @sundrop-writes where it will be posted.

Warnings: I don't think there's really any warnings for this small section? The term they/them is used, but I didn't want it to be used specifically for the reader, I wanted it to be ambiguous that it could be talking about the larger group or the reader (so that people with she/her or he/him pronouns can also apply themselves to this dialogue). There are typical TWD warnings - mentions of death, spoilers for the show up through Season 4 if you're watching it for the first time. Use of Y/N because I am an old school girl, and idk - I think that's it for this section?

...

When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth.

He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done.

It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’.

Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning?

“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently.

Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism.

Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you.

“Here.” He grunted at her.

Beth smiled at him.

It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time.

When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there.

The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind.

One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it.

For good luck.

He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead.

He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it.

“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him.

Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her.

“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed.

He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer.

He didn’t give her one.

“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.”

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.”

Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject.

After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again.

But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories.

That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

#wips #current wips #wip wednesday #sundrop writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x gender neutral reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine

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perexcri · 1 year

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go out in the world to start over again and again (as many times as you can) [byler week 2023 - day 1]

title from: heaven’s gate by fall out boy

dedicated to: @cherryisgone for writing in the comments of the truth beneath the rose that Mike should kiss Will’s magic-warmed fingers and infecting me with that image :) thank you friend i have not known peace since :)

here’s a short ficlet for my fantasy au A Flower That Resembles You!! it can be reasonably read on its own without having read the original fic, though i do think that would remove some context for it,,,either way, it’s all going under the cut in case people are concerned about potential spoilers~

A breeze rolls down the cliff face, rustling its fingers through their hair as they’re both preoccupied with their tasks: plucking weeds, sifting through the soil, carefully shaking seeds out of jars and into pockets of dirt to be covered up. In rhythmic intervals, one scoops dirt over seeds while the other sprinkles water upon the fresh mound, over and over, all throughout the land that surrounds their new home.

And that’s not even to mention their neighbors–lovely people, of course, and the houses in this coastal village are spread out enough so that nobody’s toes get stepped on, but after nearly a year left to themselves in a shack on the western coast, pinned between the sea and the citadel, they’re still growing used to the idea that people are nearby, that eyes wander, and that ears, of course, can hear.

Regardless, nobody stops them now as they work the land behind their new home. The people of the village wander back to their abodes in their close-knit families, dangling off the arms of lovers or else pulled by the eager hands of children. Their murmurs mix with the chirp of cicadas and crickets to create a sweet song of spring, nature and people alike heralding the advent of warmer temperatures and brighter days.

They’d talked about a fence when they’d first arrived, but, tired from their journey and trying to acclimate to their new surroundings, neither had gotten around to the task, and neither seemed to particularly care. As such, there are no clear demarcations for where their new garden will end and the empty grasses of the land surrounding them will begin.

Neither of them say a word, but their gazes occasionally snag on each other, or else one’s eyes catch the other’s wandering towards the other villagers or the distant line of pine trees which house the unruly insects and perfume the air with the sharp musk of their needles.

“I think that’s it,” Will finally says, the first to break the serene silence that had settled over their humble plot of land. He pushes the sleeves of his shirt just over his elbows from where they’d fallen, and when he swipes his arm against his forehead, it leaves a light streak of dirt that the blue hour nearly makes fade into his skin.

The jars filled with the seeds they’d taken with them sit empty on the stoop, but Mike knows better. Sure, he’d loved hearing about the flora from Will–distinguishing between blanket flower or lavender seeds, how much water to grace each one with, and, please, if you have any questions, either ask Will or consult the book–but there’s only one flower he ever had any intention of planting when Will had mentioned beginning the garden sometime last week.

Mike had no choice but to heartily agree–how could he not? Will asks for so little and gives all too much–planting a garden together at their new home, where the sun rains freely upon the lands unshackled from the domineering shadows of the citadel’s walls, is the least they can do. Hell, Mike had even encouraged him to ask for more: they’re free and they’re together, and what’s to hold them back from taking hold of the whole world?

Just a garden would be nice, Will had said as he’d traced a fine ribbon of light between their entwined fingers, let it tickle at Mike’s nose and send that pleasant warmth of magic trickling from the crown of his head to where their ankles locked together beneath the quilt of their bed.

And now, they've done it.

Well, with two exceptions, the first being that, technically, they simply had a bunch of seeds in the ground, though the garden will surely come given enough care, patience, and time.

The second, of course, is the glaring absence of the only flower Mike had ever cared about for more than just the light Will coaxes from their starlit cores, or how their scents elicit memories of summer evenings, secrets withheld, and some heady blur of necklace cords, salt-slick tears on cheeks, and the crunch of an apple between his teeth. It’s an odd mixture, to be sure: when he thinks about their floral perfumes, he can’t discern whether it’s wholly good or wholly bad, for all he can discern is that it’s simply overwhelming.

So, in the few heartbeats of silence that pass between them, Mike lets a wry grin twist at his mouth, and he gently reaches forward to smudge the dirt away from Will’s forehead, which earns him a playful smack against his arm. “No, oh wise one. This garden is far from complete.”

“If you’re referring to the lack of flowers currently, I can assure you that I can’t make them grow any faster.”

Mike rolls his eyes and gently knocks his head against Will’s. “Well, perhaps if you’d been a better minister.”

“I was never a minister, and even if I was, I’d be an even worse one now since I’m here with you.”

“But then you’d have nobody to grow the flowers for! See, it all works out–balance for the divine which lives in all, or whatever those old men used to preach about.”

Will wraps his finger around one of Mike’s stray curls and gives it a gentle tug. “You’re fresh on your way to being taken back to the arms of the universe earlier than planned.”

Mike reaches up again and pads the last bits of dirt away from Will’s forehead. “Then let me make it up to you?”

Will tilts his head back to consider the dusky sky, dragging Mike’s eyes up his neck, the curve of his jaw, the messy strands of hair ruffled around his head. The last stains of magenta sunlight melt against the blue of the sky overtaking the world in this quiet hour, and Mike’s eyes are drawn up to the pinpricks of stars which, if he squints at just a little harder, seem to be glowing brighter.

“Make it up to me how?”

“However you’d prefer.”

Will’s eyes cut back down to him, narrowing slightly. “You have a plan.”

“I do not!”

“You never concede that early. You already have something planned.”

Mike gives an exaggerated scoff. Then, under the weight of Will’s scrutiny, slowly drags his arms away from where they’d begun to encircle his love. He crosses them over his chest instead, hunching his shoulders as if to shield himself from a chill that isn’t there. “I do not. You just like to pretend like you know everything, and you like being mysterious–you know, I have my theories, and I think it’s all that tea those damned ministers made you drink since you were, what, a baby? It must’ve done something to your brain chemistry.”

Will shoots him a glare, and it speaks loudly enough on its own as to not require any further explanation.

Several more heartbeats pass, the scars on Mike’s chest begin to prickle, and with Will’s eyes turning dark in the evening’s blue hour, Mike finally concedes; his arms fall to his sides, he spins on his heels, and he makes it to the back door of their house in just a few strides, huffing a sarcastic Fine over his shoulder.

And when he comes back out, his hands behind his back and trying not to slip against the object he cradles so carefully, he catches Will’s mouth curved into a warm grin.

“What?” Mike asks, fingers already fumbling against the jar. He winces as he tries to pull the door closed, some last whiffs of woodsmoke and heat from the hearth escaping out into the night and sticking against his back.

“You just look nice in the firelight,” Will notes, his voice simple and earnest in that way Mike has always loved.

And it’s been months now–almost a full year–and yet, Mike still feels his face begin to glow, as if it was the precious object pressing into his back at this moment.

“You also look nice against the light of the flower,” Will notes with a more playful grin.

Mike looks down, notices the glows of blue and lilac against his clothes and skin, how they shift and sheen like the face of the sea in sunlight, and he groans. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“You thought I wouldn’t feel the light?”

“Not all of us are magical healer prodigies and artful manipulators of the divine which lives in all like you, oh wise one.” Mike crosses the distance now, and he holds the jar between them. He’s not sure if it’s the darkening sky or Will’s magic, but its petals seem to bloom more in the dusk, its colors to shine more brightly in the air between them. Mike’s fingers feel clammy against the jar, his hands shaking slightly from overuse and hunger, though they finally still when Will’s fingers reach over them, careful and calloused and warm from magic. His thumb rubs small circles against Mike’s hand.

“We should plant it,” Mike says, tilting his forehead down to lean against Will’s, letting his magic’s warmth coat his face, for it to fill his lungs and tug him just a bit closer to the one person he’s unwilling to let go of again.

And how could Will devise an argument against such a proposition?

They fall into their previous rhythm, one last time for the season: it’s as if they’d both already thought of a spot for the flower, its precious blue petals handspun by Will out of starlight, kept alive by Mike’s refusal to lose hope. Mike’s knees press into the dirt near the window as he leans over, digs through the soil, and tries his best to make room for the flower and the roots which sit tightly bunched against the confines of the jar. Will crouches next to him, his leg pressed against Mike’s. His fingers play with the remaining well water in the bucket, ready to soften the soil with its nourishment.

His other hand reaches out, though, and as their fingers brush together, Mike realizes Will is helping him make room for the flower, too.

And make room they do. The flower’s stem is strong enough to let it stand upright without the support of the jar, its roots taking well to the soft soil on this cliffside. They bury them beneath more overturned soil, and just as the last vein of roots disappears, as Mike rests his hand against the flower and in the dirt, Will’s reaches across, their fingers nearly threaded together around the flower’s stem.

The action brings to mind hazy images of a life now long left behind. There had been a minister, yes, and the girl, and a flame that violently seared against his wrist, leaving a trail of welts and blisters across his skin that had seemed to spell out the word liar.

He shakes his head to rid himself of clanging bells and flower petals crushed underfoot; he focuses his eyes on the reality in front of him instead, of being with his best friend and love in a garden of their own making, proof of their devotion blooming right between their hands beneath the moonlight.

“Now is it a garden?” Will asks, voice only half-teasing. He’s watching Mike with careful eyes, studying him as if for a charcoal drawing.

Mike meets his gaze, the corners of his mouth poking up. “Only by your magic’s touch.”

And as they remove their hands, in the light of the flower as it burns nearly incandescent, Mike takes Will’s hand and connects their fingers again, refusing to let go. When he presses a kiss to the back of Will’s hand, it glows with the warmth of his magic, though it’s no match for the light contained in the shape of Will’s smile, in the fondness of eyes, in the way he pulls Mike’s hand towards him and presses a kiss right back.

#byler #bylerweek2023 #a flower that resembles you #unhinged communist knight #guilt-ridden flower boy #this will get posted to ao3 at the end of the week btw!#ficlet #cleradin

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multiphandommess · 7 months

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New Beginnings (And Burgers)

Summary - A fluff fic for Stella lovers. Her girlfriend picks her up when she gets out of prison and takes her back to their apartment.

Notes - I hope y'all like it. It's my first fic

I was driving down a dirt road. I’m currently on the way to pick up my girlfriend, Stella, from prison. She’s finally getting out today. We met when I was in prison for 8 months for assault (I do stupid things when I’m drunk) and she had 6 more months than me. She called last week and let me know that she was getting out today and asked if I could pick her up and I, of course, said yes. I’m super excited to see her again finally. I get up to the gate of the prison.

“Hi, I’m here for Stella Carlin.” The guard looks up at me with a deadpan look and turns to call out over her shoulder.

“Get me the kangaroo will ya?” she turns back to me, “You can go sit in one of those chairs now.”

I sit down and wait for Stella. About five minutes later, I see my tattooed hottie walk through the door. “Hey baby,” I say, walking up to her and hugging her.

“Hi, dove. Are you ready to get out of here? I sure am,” she replies with her signature smile.

“Of course,” I say, leading her out to my car. “How about we go get lunch before we go to our apartment? I got you a room set up to put your stuff in and a bed in case you want some me time whenever you want.”

“That sounds lovely darling,” Stella says as she kisses my cheek.

“What do you want to eat?” I ask her, “We can get anything you might want.”

“How about burgers? I haven’t had good food in so long and burgers sound so good,” she asked.

“Alright, next stop, burgers,” I say, pulling out of the Litchfield parking lot. There was a diner about 20 minutes from the prison. We pulled up and I got out of the car.

“Actually babe, can we stop in that store really quick and pick me up a new outfit? This one is a bit too big,” Stella asked.

“Sure. Let’s go find you some clothes. You have lost quite a bit of weight on that bagged bullshit they try to call food,” I joke, pulling her into the thrift store next to the diner. 45 minutes later we were walking out of the store and into the diner. She picked out a pair of grey sweatpants, a black tank top, and a vegan leather jacket. She also picked out some jeans, hoodies, bras, and socks so that she had clothes that fit her until I could make enough money to take her on a real shopping spree; but of course, she can always wear my clothes. We walk into the diner, order our food, and sit down. After we eat our food we get back in the car and drive the almost 3-hour drive back to our apartment in NYC.

We pull up to our building and unload what little stuff she has. We made our way up the stairs and up to our door. I pull out the key. “I’ll have a copy made for you tomorrow when I go out for groceries,” I tell her while opening our door.

“Um…thanks,” she said in an unsure tone.

“Are you ok Stell?” I asked worriedly. “I know getting used to being able to do what you want without someone looking over your shoulder all the time is a little hard to get used to after being in prison for even just a little bit but if there’s anything I can do for you at all baby, just let me know,” I said as I pulled her in and wrapped my arms around her waist. She pulled me flush against her body and laid her head on my chest. We just stood in our kitchen holding each other and making up for all the lost time. “Alright, let's put your stuff away and we can watch a movie or something. How does that sound” I ask.

“Like heaven, sweetie,” she replies, “But how about you show me the room and I can put my stuff away. I don’t want to make you do something that you shouldn’t have to do. Maybe you can make the popcorn or something?”

“I mean, if you’re sure. Also, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Target tomorrow and pick up some decor for your room.” I replied.

“That sounds good but I don’t know how much I’ll be using that room because I’m expecting some I’ll be spending all my time in your bed,” she said with a smirk.

“10 minutes and you're already trying to get in my pants,” I said with the same expression as Stella.

“Hey I could have meant snuggles cutie,” she replied playfully.

“Uh-huh, sure. THAT smirk could have meant anything,” I sarcastically replied with a smile, “Well your room is down this hall. Here you go.”

“Thank you babygirl,” she said with her signature wink.

I blushed and didn’t reply but just walked away to go make some popcorn. “What do you want to watch?” I called back to Stella. Instead of answering, she walked up behind me and hugged me. “Why hello there,” I joked.

“Hi,” she said quietly into my neck as she put her hands under my shirt, stopping just before my bra.

“Watch your hands there dove,” I joked.

“What, can’t I hug my girlfriend?” she replied with a shrug and mumbled something I couldn’t make out.

“What was that?” I asked turning around in her hold.

“I love you,” she said. This was the first time she had told me this since I got out. She hasn’t said those three words over the phone or at all so far today.

“I love you too baby,” I kissed her and took her hand, leading her over to the sofa. “Alright, you choose the movie.”

“Scream?” she asked.

“Of course darling,” I replied. We spent the rest of our day watching movies and cuddling. As I went to put on our 5th movie, I heard light snoring. I looked down to see Stella asleep, face looking calmer and happier than it had in awhile; even calmer than when I would slide into her bunk during the night and cuddle. I smiled, turned off the TV, and snuggled into her. I rubbed her back and it was enough to lull me to sleep as well.

We might have to get used to being with each other out of prison and living with someone we’ve only been in the same building with for 8 months but I know that we’ll adjust and make each other better people because of it. So here’s to new beginnings.

#stella carlin x reader

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tacticalhimbo · 10 months

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WIP (WEDNES)DAY!

and i actually have stuff for it! kinda! many thanks to @sstewyhosseini who tagged me 💕

idk who all's workin on stuff rn, so i'll throw some random tags out! @vendettapandav , @detectivelokis , @cybilbennettgf (i just noticed the name change KDJDKDJ) , @kourumi , and anyone else who's a creative/sitting on a wip!

i've begun the plotting process for my latest fic(tm), so here's the official summary and prologue's notes 😌

SYNOPSIS: Hope County, Montana, has been overrun by an extremist religious sect known as the Project at Eden’s Gate. Their leader, Joseph Seed, has effectively cut off the county’s communication with the outside world, and the sudden quiet after the storm has raised the eyes of the federal government. U.S. Marshal Cameron Burke is assigned to accompany a skeleton crew of deputies from the local sheriff’s department to his compound, and serve the warrant necessary to put Joseph behind bars. Accompanying him is Senior Deputy Earl Whitehorse, Deputy Staci Pratt, Deputy Joey Hudson, and Junior Deputy Marion Scott Mitchell.

However, things are quick to go wrong, and the group is separated. All are captured and imprisoned by the cult’s heralds, except for Marion, who now finds himself in the crosshairs of the cult. It is up to him, and those he has befriended within the community, to rise up and put a stop to the cult’s doomsday plot. Will he be able to take down the heralds, or will the chains of their power drag him down beneath the waves?

TITLE INSPIRATION: I wanted to pull from Biblical passages because of the thematic elements, and the fact Eden's Gate as a sect. is very similar to the Seventh Day Adventists (at least in my analysis of them)...

Of course, I had to phone a friend... But I melded our ideas together.

The initial iteration was The Angel's Chain, referencing Revelations 20:1 -> And I saw an angel come down from heaven, having the key of the bottomless pit and a great chain in his hand.

But then I dug deeper, and read the entire chapter. And I liked the overarching theme of angels and false prophets... so... That's how the title ended up growing in size ^^; It can be short-handed though (e.g., Revelations 20 OR Angels and False Prophets).

I mayyy change my mind about making the title so long but that's what we're running aith for now.

And, as promised, the treat of the prologue's notes (please forgive that this section is in all caps, it helps my eyes when I'm writing on my document):

DETAIL THE DAY OF THE RAID. MARION IS IN THE COMMUNITY. HE VISITS ELLIE AND THOMAS, WHO HAVE MOVED INTO THE COUNTY JUST A FEW MONTHS PRIOR TO THIS CLIMAX. HE TELLS ELLIE THAT HE’S GOING TO THE COMPOUND LATER THAT EVENING, EVEN THOUGH HE KNOWS HE SHOULDN’T. THEY CAN’T TRUST ANYBODY. THEY HAVE A BIT OF A MOMENT, BUT THEIR FEELINGS ARE BURIED. THEY’RE CLOSE FRIENDS, NOTHING MORE. EXCEPT IT FEELS LIKE THAT. THOMAS SEES THEM GET SAD AND ASKS WHAT’S GOING ON, TO WHICH MARION EXPLAINS THAT HE’S GOING TO BE DOING A REALLY BIG JOB AND THAT HE MIGHT NOT SEE THEM AGAIN FOR A LITTLE WHILE. THOMAS IS SAD. THEY HUG IT OUT; ELLIE JOINS. HE BIDS THEM GOODBYE. CUT TO THE CHOPPER. HE’S THINKING OF THEM. BURKE NOTICES HE LOOKS OUT OF THE GAME. HE WAVES IT OFF AND SAYS IT’S NOTHING, JUST NERVES. INTRO SEQUENCE. CRASH.

SEPARATION. SURVIVAL INSTINCT KICKING IN. THE COUNTY HAS GONE TO SHIT AND MARION IS BARELY ALIVE ON THE SHORE. A MAN (DUTCH) GRABS HIM AND DRAGS HIM OFF. END.

We're on the angst train already!

#txt #my writing #revelations 20: angels and false prophets #my ocs

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aidanchaser · 1 month

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Song fic based around The Butterfly Effect by FJØRA

Read on Ao3

Read Chapter One: Verse One on tumblr here. Read Chapter Two: Chorus on tumblr here. Read Chapter Three: Chorus (2) on tumblr here. Read Chapter 4: Verse 2 on tumblr here Read Chapter 5: Chorus (3) on tumblr here Read Chapter 6: Chorus (4) on tumblr here

Chapter 7: creature of the new below the cut

When Adrien wakes, the first thing he thinks is that it doesn’t hurt to move.

you’re free now you The dream is already fading. Rapidly, the memory of his body falling apart under the weight broken magic and his mother’s edge-of-death state become nebulous and impossible to articulate. He thinks perhaps he ought to write the dream down to try to make sense of it, but even that thought evaporates as he tugs on his shoes. The things that linger are his memory of pain with every step, even if he quickly forgets why, and of a young woman who he was wholly in love with, even if he can’t quite remember her name.

His father’s voice calls from the kitchen a loud warning that he’s nearly late for school and Adrien hurries down stairs.

As he hurries into the kitchen where his parents are, the grief from his dream rears its head in his chest. He smiles at them, unsure how to put into words how glad he is to see them when he doesn’t quite have words to explain why.

“You know,” his mother says, “you don’t have to go to school. You’re already very nearly late. Just stay home with me today.”

But Adrien does have to go to school. Nathalie had fought hard for him to be granted this freedom. Almost as hard as she had fought against the sickness that had slowly overtaken her.

He goes to school for himself, but to honor Nathalie, in a way. She’d always been the person holding the gate to freedom open whenever his parents tried to keep him close. He’d never quite appreciated just how much she had done for him until she was gone.

Adrien shovels a stack of pancakes into his mouth as his mother tuts at his manners. His father warns him that he’s about to drip syrup on his shirt—heaven forbid he stain his father’s brand—and hastily wipes Adrien’s chin with a napkin, like he’s a toddler who can’t keep his own nose clean.

Adrien can’t get out of the house fast enough. He loves them, truly, and in a way he’s grateful for his terrible dream to remind him how much they matter to him, but he also needs his own space.

He grabs his schoolbag and kisses his parents goodbye. He notices, as he turns to go, their hands curled around their coffee mugs and their wedding rings glinting in the morning sunlight.

But he can’t remember why that’s so important.

you shed the old the empty When Adrien arrives at school, he hurries into the courtyard in search of the girl from his dream. He doesn’t even know if he’ll recognize her, but he hopes he will. Surely she’s real if she appeared in his dream.

His eyes linger on a girl with long dark hair, but as she turns, he sees the purple streak and recognizes Juleka. She’s too tall anyway; the girl in his dream was shorter.

He’s so intent on his search, he doesn’t even see Chloé until it’s too late. She has her arms around his shoulders and is planting a kiss on each cheek before he has time to steady himself.

“Good morning to you too,” he says.

“You were almost late today,” she says.

“Sorry—got stuck in a weird dream and couldn’t wake up for a minute.” He remembers, quite suddenly, and automatically says aloud, “You were the black cat superhero in my dream.”

Chloé tips her head back and laughs. “Was I a very sexy cat superhero?” She purses her lips and twirls a finger through his hair.

He pulls away and starts to climb the stairs to their class. “I can’t really remember,” he says. Because he doesn’t remember any other details about Chloé, but he remembers quite suddenly that the girl he loved in his dream was also the ladybug superhero.

He holds the door to their class open for Chloé and takes his usual seat next to Nino. Nino lifts his fist in greeting, but doesn’t take his eyes off of the back of the head in front of him—Alya Césaire.

“Are you going to talk to her today?” Adrien asks, and grins as Nino’s ears darken.

“Shut up, dude,” Nino grumbles and pulls out his notes. He tears his eyes away from Alya and glances at Adrien, who is entering “Ladybug superhero” into a search engine. “Are you into Scarabella now?”

But Adrien’s heart sinks as he skims through the pictures of Scarabella. She isn’t the hero from his dream, and he doesn’t see anything about a superhero named Ladybug. Was she really just from his imagination? Created from some sort of longing or pining he wasn’t even aware of in his waking life?

“I had a dream that Chloé had the Black Cat miraculous,” Adrien says, and Nino chokes.

“Chloé as a superhero? That sounds more like a nightmare.”

And Nino’s not wrong; there were a lot of parts of his dream that were more nightmarish than dream, but being in love had felt so real and so wonderful. He wants to believe that the girl in his dream is a real person, that something in his dream mattered.

But no one in their class makes him feel the way Nino must as he stares at Alya’s red curls and fidgets with the ring on his finger.

Adrien sighs and takes out his own notes as Mme Bustier begins class. The seat beside Alya’s remains empty, and Adrien can’t explain why that hurts.

you know what to do Nino snatches his tablet on their way to lunch before Adrien can put it into his bag. He grins as he runs out of the classroom, forcing Adrien to chase him.

It feels good to run. Adrien doesn’t know why it feels so good, like he hasn’t done it in years, but he laughs as he chases Nino down the stairs, apologizing as he slides past Alya, who rolls her eyes. He thinks he hears her mutter, “Boys,” under her breath.

He follows Nino down the street and is surprised when Nino turns a different corner, away from Adrien’s house. If they don’t take lunch in the cafeteria, they’ll usually go to Adrien’s place—his parents prefer him to take lunch at home as often as possible—so this break from routine surprises Adrien.

“Where are we going?”

“I heard Alya talking about this bakery with Mylene,” Nino says, slowing down to a walk. “I want to try it.”

Adrien snatches his tablet from Nino’s hand as they cross the street and the gold lettering of the boulangerie and patisserie on the corner comes into view. Adrien’s heart pound. Anticipation builds in his chest like his body knows something is about to happen even if his mind doesn’t.

Nino pushes open the door and the shop bell jingles.

Adrien sees the girl behind the counter and his heart stops.

you creature of the new She glances up as the bell rings and hastily closes her phone, but not before Adrien sees what was on her screen.

She was looking up pictures of him.

Nino is already perusing the display, but Adrien and the girl at the counter are still staring at each other, and Adrien’s dream spirals out before him. He remembers all of it. He remembers the pain in his body, the desperation as he used and abused a pair of magical gifts, and he remembers how much he loved Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He shakes his head as he approaches. Surely he didn’t just psychically link to this girl in his dreams last night. Perhaps he had filled her name into his memory after seeing it on her name tag just now, and he had used the shop name to guess her last name. He’s rewriting his dream as he goes about his day; his dream couldn’t have had any basis in reality.

But he does notice, since her hair is pulled back into a bun, that her ears are pierced.

“Hi,” he says as he approaches the counter.

Her cheeks are bright pink and she stammers, “H-help—I mean—Hello! What can you do for me—I mean—How can I help you?”

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he wants to prove his dream true or false. If something in it was real, if everything about this girl is what he dreamed, does that mean the nightmarish parts are true, too?

“Could I have a pastry?” he asks, failing to put anything in his head into real words.

“Of course,” she says, and blinks at him. “Um—what kind of pastry?”

Adrien doesn’t know. Can’t think of a single name of any pastry ever created. Instead, he blurts out, perhaps desperate to be denied, “Did you design the bakery uniforms?”

She looks down at the pink apron she’s wearing, with the ruffles on the sleeves, the neat bow on the waist, and the intertwined “T” and “S” in gold lettering, surrounded by wheat leaves.

“Oh—It’s just a hobby,” she says. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what your father does—I mean—You—You are Adrien Agreste, right?”

He swallows and nods. “And you’re… Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He flinches even as he asks it, realizing suddenly that his name is famous; hers isn’t. “I just—your nametag—and the shop name—I thought—”

She swallows and her voice is a little breathless. “Yes, that’s my name.”

There’s an awkward silence between them until Nino interrupts to order a small assortment of macarons and a couple of savory stuffed croissants. It’s a small lunch, but it’s something.

As Marinette bags their order, Adrien asks, “Do you… go to school?”

She shakes her head. “No; ever since Maman passed, I’ve been helping Papa at the bakery.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay, really. Working here helps her feel close,” and she smiles.

Adrien blinks and bites his tongue to hold back his next question, but it bursts out of his chest anyway. “And—you’re really happy?”

She frowns, and he knows the question is an overstep, but he has to know. Because he remembers the end of his dream, when Marinette promised that she would set his life right. And things in his life seem okay. But if it cost her happiness…

“Sure,” she says, but he doesn’t know that it’s true. What else is she supposed to say to a stranger who just appeared in her bakery to ask invasive questions about her personal life.

And Adrien decides to let the matter drop. It was just a dream. He’s being ridiculous.

But as he and Nino thank her and turn to go, she asks, “And—are you happy?”

He stops and turns. “Me?”

“Do you… do you have everything that you want?”

of the new

#ml fic #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #adrien as hawk moth au #tho now we've moved from the adrien as hawk moth universe to the alya and nino as ladybug and cat noir universe

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