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#this fine ass family has my heart
acknowledge-reigns · 7 months
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They're just all so gorgeous 😭💖
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ritzcuit · 1 month
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i aam deep in dhurkedatz specifically thoughts today. Oh the them. oh the unspoken of it all. the unlabeled. we got a good thing going. of course this is my ... he's my. You know. well hes my right hand man of course. im the fangs o' the defiant dragon. but that doesnt explain it fully.. thats business. and their lives are almost entirely business but Not Quite. and beyond the revolution they escape description...thats his best friend. that's his datz..
dhurke loves amara like crazy his love for her never died at all ... datz isn't a replacement ... hes just his datz. you know? 20 years of partnership cant go away like that. theyre together. partners!! and rumors fly and theres jokes. call off your boyfriend! so whens the marriage? and theres shared looks and pitying looks and understanding looks and skeptical looks but no one Speaks on it.. its unspoken!! but its there. by god.
like i wouldnt dream of doing anything without you. or that dhurke knows when he gets reunited with his family once more, for real this time, datz is gonna be there. and amara isn't being replaced so shes not concerned at all lol shes like ... what ... and take away his datz? what kind of monster do you take me for :( Like she knows. and everyone KNOWS. thats just his datz. and thats his dhurke. and you cant seperate them its unethical its cruel and unusual punishment its not nice
All the small tiny things... the years of history in each others actions ... the energy and focus shifting between them without needing to ask. in a discussion fixing to break out into a fight datz defuses it. datz tense and uncomfortable outta his mind and dhurke spots the way he tugs at his scarf and makes an excuse for datz to leave early. he asks to be waken up in a few hours so they can trade ofd guard duty and datz says yeah but they both know he'll stay up the whole night just to let dhurke sleep longer (this i stole from such terrible tales bc that detail made me sick) Like Ugh Like i cant Like i just dont know
and its not that they dont want to label it but its just so...what would change really. dhurke knows datz loves him and datz knows dhurke loves him (though maybe some nights he really does need reassurance, and he gets in his head about it, and somehow- through ways datz doesn't have a clue how- dhurke can tell when datz is quiet from upset as opposed to another reason, and he'll take datz's hand and kiss his knuckles and Thank Him so deeply and earnestly that it burns out any negative thought datz has ever had in his life ... crazy.)
and hes the family friend and the sort of uncle and the right hand man and compatriot and everyone knows just by the way they lean against each other and speak in half finished sentences and answer questions that weren't fully asked ... reference jokes from years ago and diffuse each other and the way datz is obviously gloomy when dhurke is gone vs perks up when he comes back And the way dhurke is on edge and his leaderly dad warmth is slightly colder while datz is in prison like even when theyre not together you can tell the impact left on each others lives LIKE IM SICK FOR REAL
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priniya · 18 days
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˗ˏ` EMOTIONS! 🍵 ´ˎ˗
pairing. theodore nott x reader
summary. theo never handled his emotions right, and when his girlfriend shows up in a wrong moment, things escalate and theodore doesn’t know how to fix it.
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THEO HAS BEEN A TICKING BOMB LATELY and you knew that. it’s been bothering you, but every time you tried talking some senses into him, he brushed it all off, saying something too stupid and reckless for you to hear, so the topic was dropped sooner than it was brought up.
it was one of those times again, when a recurring thought was planted into your brain that you didn’t know your boyfriend like you thought you would. theodore hasn’t been himself lately, which made you worry tons. he’s been smoking much more and getting into fights more often as well as getting into trouble with the teachers, losing the points for your house, which… well, you didn’t care that much about it. what you cared for was theo’s wellbeing.
since it’s been a christmas break, you had gone home to spend time with your family, which meant your contant with theo was limited to a few letters that he was doing somewhat fine, yet you’ve been smart enough to know that spending christmas with his father and grandfather could never make him feel fine, not even a little bit. it was the breaking point in you that you’ve decided it’s the end of brushing you off.
“riddle, berkshire – out.” you barged into the dorm, glaring at your boyfriend’s dormmates, causing the first one to groan in annoyance.
“jesus, can’t be in your own room anymore.” mattheo rolled his eyes at you, yet he knew it was coming, so he dragged his ass up, patting theo’s back. “good luck with that one, nott.” he muttered before leaving the room with lorenzo, who just sent you a sympathetic smile.
theo, on the other hand, just glanced at you for a second, knitting his eyebrows together. “what do you want, l/n?” he asked, his nose still burried in between pages of a book you gave him for christmas.
“oh, last name basis, al–fucking–right.” you grumbled, grabbing the book away from his hands, your body trembling with fury. you hadn’t had a proper conversation in over two weeks, yet he couldn’t bring himself to be a decent man towards you. “what’s going on with you, nott?”
“get off my dick, y/n, really.” he rolled his eyes, expression matching the one his roommate had a few moments earlier. “i don’t have fucking time for this shit.” theo added, clearly agitated.
“well, you want it — you have it, i’m not getting on your dick anytime soon.” your voice was thick with emotion as the mention of celibacy earning you a look. “i know something’s going on. i know that, because i’m your girlfriend and i care about you. just trust–” you started, but the sentence wasn’t meant to be finished, because nott cut you off.
“then don’t. merlin, i don’t need a fucking babysitter, hoovering over my ass all the time. you’re not my bloody therapist, l/n. i don’t fucking need you to stick your nose into my business 24/7.” theodore stood up, his nose almost brushing yours before you took a step back, startled at the sudden outburst. “and sex? don’t amuse me, for merlin’s sake. i could leave the dorm right now and find someone to bone if i wanted to.” his tone was harsh, while his words were like knives thrown at you as a reward for being a caring girlfriend.
your boyfriend looked at his knuckles, his gaze focusing on the ring as he begun to take it off, making your pupils widen. “go. give it to someone who’s gonna be crazy enough to put up with your obsession about emotions. i’m not doing that anymore.” he muttered, pushing the ring into your palm.
“fine.” was the only thing that came to your mind after his words. your body continued to tremble and at this point, you couldn’t have been sure if it was your annoyance or broken heart that he just broke up with you. “just keep your promise and stay away from me. maybe join the death eaters too, for all i care, you’ll fit in perfectly.” with that, you left his dorm, slamming the door behind you as you fought with tears flowing down your cheeks.
“troubles in paradise?” mattheo grinned at you playfully, not noticing your tears-stained face as you were storming through the common room to the exit of the room.
“go fuck yourself, riddle.”
it wasn’t even five minutes later, when mattheo entered his shared dorm, his expression utterly confused as his mind was doing its best to connect the dots. “what’s with that gal of yours?” he asked theo, plopping down onto his bed, lightning up a cigarette right after.
“she’s not my gal anymore.” nott mumbled in response, almost untouched by the entire thing that just happened and that took his best friend by surprise.
“what do you mean she’s not your gal anymore?” he asked, his frown deepening. “lad, don’t tell me she broke up with you, you love this girl to death.” riddle added, scanning his friend’s face for any sign of uneasiness or a clue to understand all of it.
“i broke up with her.” theo replied with a shrug.
“merlin, man, why?” mattheo asked another question, this time being left without an answer as nott shut the curtains of his bed, putting on a silence spell.
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IGNORING THEODORE ALL WEEK HAS BEEN EASY as you weren’t in the same year as him. you’ve been grovelling inside about the break-up, but from what your mother had always told you, when you were younger, you remembered that all the teenage boys were shitty and you couldn’t — by any means — let him know how much hurt you were. ignoring him was easy, all because, in your eyes, he didn’t even take any effort to show you remorse for what happened, from what you’ve known, he didn’t even look at you once.
the worst part of loving theodore nott was not being able to brush off all the concerns and worries that lived rent free in your mind, whenever you’ve noticed him walking through the hallways. nevertheless, he didn’t want you to care about him at all, so that was what you were planning on doing. kept your head high and your feet steady on the ground.
what you didn’t know, was that it wasn’t pride that made him keep his eyes away from you, but guilt. from the moment he woke up the day following your argument, his organism was flooded with guilt and shame to the point, where he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror.
he fucked everything up just like his father always told him that he would. he broke the promise he’d made to himself that he wouldn’t drive you away, wouldn’t hurt you like his father hurt his mom, yet he did. you were the only person in his world that made him feel like a normal human being, one, who could love and be loved, but he had to ruin it all, because his pride wouldn’t let him to open up to you.
it’s been already a week since the biggest mistake of his life, as he called it, and theo’s entire body hurt. he was popping pills with blaise like candies, because sobriety and consciousness made everything worse. he couldn’t stop thinking about you — about your expression, when he broke things off with you, the hurt in your eyes and the way you were holding yourself after that.
people, not close enough to you, might’ve been fooled by the facade you’ve built around you, though not theo. he’d known you for years prior to your relationship, he’d seen you both happy and miserable and now? now, you were beyond miserable. you might’ve kept your head high with the biggest smile on your face, but he’s known. he always would — whether you wanted him to or not.
quidditch practices were the worst, all because you were always there, yet never watching him. it wasn’t even up to you to be there and theo was certain of it. you were there, so your best friend wouldn’t have to sit through an entire practice alone, while she watched lorenzo with starstruck expression all the fucking time.
“lad, you have to apologise to her, sort it out.” enzo sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “aoife’s worried about her. ‘m not really surprised, though, she started smoking weed on daily-basis again. aoif’s saying she can’t remember, when she saw her sober for the last time, but it’s better than bawling her eyes out over some asshole, aoif’s words, not mine.” having a friend, who was also somehow close to you and your best friend was a blessing in disguise. lorenzo kept him updated, not leaving out all the insults aoife lynch threw at him for breaking her best friend’s heart.
a loud sigh left theo’s lips as he leaned over the table, his forehead falling onto the wooden surface as he let out a groan. “i don’t even know what to do, enzo.”
“my suggestion? get your shit together.” mattheo chimed in, a playful grin on his face. “i mean it, theo. the gal of yours keeps showing up to my spot and i can’t deal with her tears anymore. get your shit together and fix it.”
“the problem is, matt, i don’t know how.”
the opportunity, although being totally… stupid, occurred at the end of another week during a game with hufflepuffs. theo’s entered another stage of grief and has been going around the school angry at everything. so, when the game came, he was playing rougher than usually, because he needed an outlet to the built-up anger.
of course, you’ve noticed. how couldn’t you? you’ve been keeping an eye on him for the entire two weeks. despite your promise to aoife, you couldn’t let it go. no matter who he was, your boyfriend, a friend, a stranger or an enemy, you couldn’t stop worrying about him and doing your best to look out for him. so… when he was forcefully pushed off his broom by diggory, you were running down the stairs before he even hit the ground. you needed to be beside him or it would kill you.
he was unconcious for almost two more days, making it a sixteen days without hearing his voice and you were going crazy, spending every single second, occupying the tabletop placed next to his bed. his hands in between yours as you kept it close to you. did he deeply pained you with his words? yes. would you let him be alone in the hospital wing? of course not.
“y/n/n.” he whispered suddenly, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.” nott let out and you weren’t sure if it was some kind of sleep talking or your delusions leading you on. “i’m so sorry, baby.” he repeated his words with a term of endearment, squeezing your hand weakly.
“theodore…” your words hitched in your throat as you moved the hair aside from his forehead. “don’t think about it now.” you whispered in a coy manner. “it doesn’t matter.”
“i can’t.” he coughed out. “i can’t stop thinking about it. about you. i’ve acted like a dick, but i didn’t mean it. you’re my world, baby, i’m so, so sorry. you were right all this time, i build up my emotions inside of me and let it get the best of me in the worst moment. i’m so sorry i hurt you, i swear i hate myself for—” he continued his rambling, slowly opening his eyes to have a look at you.
“hey, teddy, please, don’t think about it now.” you pleaded, still holding his hand. your thumb caressing his palm. “just rest, okay? please. we’ll talk about once you’re well-rested and out of here.” your voice was gentle.
he shifted in his hospital bed, hissing as his ribcage hurt immensely. “no, cara, please.” he muttered, bringing his lips to your palm. “listen, i can’t get over what i told you. i’m so fucking sorry, baby.” he whispered.
“teddy…” you started, but he cut you off.
“no. i’m sorry i said all those things to you, you didn’t deserve all the shit i gave you.” he let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “you need to hit me. for all the pain and suffering. oh god, and the tears. you should just kill me at this point.” theo muttered, and honestly? he did deserve the beating for what he’s done, but the three days of unconsciousness due being knocked off the broom, you could let it go. it could be his fate share of beating.
“just shut up, will you?” you sighed, planting a tender kiss on his lips. “we’re fine.”
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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months
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Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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evilminji · 7 months
Text
Oh... my god? Ghost Reporters.
Imagine it. Their office is in the Zone. They literally FEED of hunting for The Next Big Scoop! And Revealing The Truth! Every honest reporter that got silenced for getting a little too close to the facts. The bloody, beating, heart of societies underbelly.
Every Lois Lane that had no Kryptonian to stop some rich and powerful jackals putting them in the ground.
Well Death sure didn't stop THEM! They STILL want answers! But now they have co-wokers. Oh~ and SUPERPOWERS! And best part?
The newly appointed KING is going too and from the living world. That must mean it's okay now, RIGHT? Your majesty? You're not a RAGING HYPOCRITE, aaaaare you? :) 🎤
And... look. Danny knows full well what these piranhas are up too. He's not stupid. But Madeline Fenton raised a lot of things. Fool? Not one of um. That a LOT of reporters with sharp, sharp teeth and bloodlust in their eyes. He wants to half-live.
He compromises. Illusion of control and all that. Yeah, yeah, they all tooootally respect his authority etc. Give them Them Scoop! He, wisely, gets the fuck out of the way. Whoosh! Off they go!
Thats.... probably gonna be a problem. *siiiiiips his morning coffee* But it's not HIS problem. Not right now.
And? Suddenly all these politicians and business leaders are getting fucking AMBUSHED. Oh? You thought you'd get soft ball "aren't I a man of the people. Buy oil!" Bullshit questions? HA! Where were you on June 27th, 1978, at-
And "according to YOUR words, exact quote as follows-"
Just? They BEAT the leader with the STICK. "Oh but you'll lose access". They'd love to see HOW! They can go through WALLS! Answer the question, coward. "Your gonna make powerful enemies!" Oh nooooo, what are they gonna DO?
Shoot us TWICE?
Hey Mr. Family Values! How's the three mistresses your wife doesn't know about?? "No comment"? That's fine. We already have THEIRS. >:D Good luck with your upcoming election!
And like? As newspapers are shutting down and turning clickbait all across the country? This ONE(1) tiny, middle of nowhere town? Somehow has a horrid, horrid, ARMY of Satan's own Reporters. All apparently willing to die for the News. Throwing themselves at dictators and Supervillians alike.
"We see no God here but the Truth" is literally their papers MOTTO.
The damn thing is basicly a BRICK. You get a paperback of news. Entire planet AND THEN SOME. How?! How are they reporting, IN DETAIL, on the break down of talks between two planets 16 galaxies over? Hal says it's accurate. But what Earth paper would even HAVE that information?
And?? The whole town treats this as normal? There are human children, complaining about the weight of papers, because it makes their paper routes a pain in the ass. Soccer moms discussing alien celebrity drama. Farmers muttering over foreign unrest and how it will impact their corn harvest.
Fucking Lex Luthor, clearly deciding to roll with it, coming to sign himself up for a paper. Gaining a new life long Nemesis upon meeting Vladimir Master, whom he decides is both hot and unbearable. Someone is heard shouting "oh god, there's TWO OF THEM!"
And?? Look. Clark isn't MAD. Or JEALOUS. Nor is he in a secret Reporting War with Jerry from the Amity Chronicle. Because that would be petty and childish. He's just SAYING, maybe they should check the place out!
Maybe Jerry is a DICK and deserves it, is all. (Lois stop laughing.)
@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight
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trensu · 9 months
Text
Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants. 
The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.
“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.
“Uh…a good one?”
“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.
They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.
Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.
"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration. 
Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.
"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"
"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."
Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.
"That's weird," Dustin said.
"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.
"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.
"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."
"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."
"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.
"Guys! Guys, what about my..."
The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.
"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."
Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.
"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.
Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."
"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."
--
It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.
The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.
It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.
By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.
--
He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.
His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.
"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.
"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."
Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.
"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."
Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.
--
Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.
When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.
“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.
“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me. 
“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it. 
“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”
There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.
Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.
Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.
A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond. 
Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.
“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.
“I asked first.”
“I asked second!”
“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.
“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.
“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.
“I’m not a lord.”
“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”
“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”
The man laughed at him outright.
“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”
Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.
“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”
“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”
“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”
“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”
“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”
“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”
“You’re wrong.”
“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.” 
“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.
“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”
“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”
“Kind of.”
“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”
“Your god is the King of Dark–”
“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”
The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.
“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.
“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”
The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.
The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.
“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
It happened again.
now with an additional snippet here and here
ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories
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astrophileous · 1 year
Text
A Well-Kept Secret
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.
Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption
Word Count: 5900-ish
Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.
The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.
After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.
And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.
As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.
"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."
"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"
"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."
"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.
"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."
"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.
"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."
Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.
"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"
"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.
"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.
"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."
"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."
JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"
"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.
"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."
"What do you mean?" Emily asked.
"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."
"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.
"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"
"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"
"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"
"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"
"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"
"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"
When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.
"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"
Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.
"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.
JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"
But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."
"In the waiting room by the pantry--"
Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.
"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.
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The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.
Almost.
At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.
Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.
Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.
At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.
But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.
"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.
"Sweetheart."
At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.
Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.
Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.
"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.
"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.
"Spencer, what are you... How..."
"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"
You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.
Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.
That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.
"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"
"Wait, what? You were shot?"
"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."
At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.
"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."
"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."
And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.
"Uh, Spence?"
The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.
Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.
"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.
The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."
After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.
He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.
"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"
Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.
"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."
"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."
"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."
The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.
"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"
"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."
"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."
Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.
"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.
Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"
"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."
"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"
"I followed Nick into his office."
Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.
"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."
You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.
"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."
Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.
"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."
Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.
"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.
Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."
"Good. That's good."
"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"
Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."
The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.
Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.
"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."
"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."
"What?"
"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."
Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.
"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."
"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."
A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.
Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.
Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.
And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.
Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."
"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"
"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."
It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.
He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.
"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."
Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"
"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."
Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.
A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.
"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."
Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.
Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.
"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.
"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"
You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.
Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.
By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.
None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.
As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.
"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.
Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.
The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.
"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."
Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.
But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.
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"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"
"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.
It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.
If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.
"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.
"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"
They all stared at each other in hesitation.
"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"
"I don't remember," JJ answered.
"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.
"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.
"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.
"Alright. Says here that her name is..."
JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.
"Yes?"
Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.
"You!" JJ exclaimed.
"Me?"
Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.
"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.
"That's me."
"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.
"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"
"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.
Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."
The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"
"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."
Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"
Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.
"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"
You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.
"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.
Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.
"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"
Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.
It's time.
"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."
"She's my wife."
You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.
In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.
"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.
"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.
"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.
"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"
And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.
"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.
Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.
"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.
At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"
"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.
It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.
But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.
"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."
Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.
But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.
"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.
"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.
"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.
"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."
Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"
"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."
"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.
Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."
"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."
"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.
That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.
"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."
"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.
"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"
"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."
Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.
"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.
"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."
"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."
"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."
"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.
The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.
"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.
"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."
Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.
Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.
The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.
"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"
"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.
"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."
"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."
"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"
"Will do," you promised.
You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.
"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"
"I think it went as well as it could."
"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"
Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."
"Really?"
"Really."
Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.
"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.
"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."
Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.
But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.
And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.
Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.
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7K notes · View notes
darkbluekies · 7 months
Text
Like magic —Part 1
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part 2 Male!yandere x female!reader x female!yandere
Hogwarts AU
Summary: your parents have denied you access to going to hogwarts, but finally in your 3d year, you manage to sneak off. But is life really that good at hogwarts when two students take a concerningly big interest in you?
Warnings: bullying, indications of unstable home life, kissing (dubcon?), forcing reader to throw up,
Word count: 6.8k
A/N: I have loosely followed the AU, but have made up my own things for the plot to work, so don't take my work literally :)
It has to be a joke, right? There’s no way that you can run straight through a wall! You gulp and look around, seeing if anyone else is doing the same, or if anyone is noticing how much you’re staring at the pillar separating the two platforms. Finally, you see two others make it through and you decide to make a run for it. You close your eyes and when you dare to open them again, you’re there. The train, the students, it’s finally time. After three, long years. 
You were supposed to start when you were eleven, but you weren’t allowed to. They didn’t believe you. If you hadn't picked the lock to your bedroom, you'd not be here this year either. You don't have anything — no books, no animals, no broom. You only have a wand and a packed suitcase. You watch the other students already wearing their Hogwarts uniforms. They hug their parents and catch up with their friends. You sneak onto the train and sit down in your own little coupe. Your heart is hammering against your chest. Your parents will figure it out soon enough and you're terrified that they'll stand on the platform and demand you to get off. 
Just start the train, make it leave.
"Oh, excuse me", a voice says.
You turn your head to the door, seeing a blonde girl standing there with a black, Grey and yellow uniform on.
"Can I sit with you?" she asks and quickly adds: "I saw you out on the platform. You looked rather lost so i just wanted to see if I could help you."
"Yeah, sure", you answer, startled. "Thank you."
The girl sits down on the couch in front of you with a smile.
"I'm Hedwig", she smiles. "Third year student. What's your name?"
"Y/N", you answer hesitantly. "I'm … new."
"I see. You're a first year student?"
"Not exactly, no … I'm supposed to be in third year too-"
"Oh, really?" Hedwig shines up. "I don't think I've ever seen you before. Which house are you in?"
"I don't know." You shrug embarrassedly. "This is technically my first year."
"Oh … I see." She smiles brightly. "That's totally fine. I can help you if you want. We have some hours to kill, so I can fill you up on most things so you're not as lost when you reach Hogwarts as you were out on the platform."
"Yes, please, that would be great. Thank you."
Hedwig fills you in on basic information. Four houses, different characteristics, a talking hat gives you your house. The school is a gigantic castle that has moving stairs, every house has passwords to their common rooms, some teachers are asses, some are okay, some are nice. Don't wander into the forest, especially at night, stay out of certain corridors. The janitor's cat is an asshole.
"I suppose you're a muggleborn then", Hedwig smiles and adds when you frown confusedly: "born and raised by normal people. Otherwise you'd know most things already."
"Are you?" you wonder, wanting to find something in common with this extraordinary girl.
"Halfblood, actually. My dad is a businessman and my mother is a witch. But don't worry, I don't care about what type of families people come from. It doesn't interest me in the slightest."
"Do some care?"
Hedwig squirms uncomfortably. "Some do. Some people think that being from a wizard family makes them superior to halfbloods and muggleborns, but don't you worry, those people aren't worth socializing with."
"Which house are you in?"
Hedwig smiles and shows you the yellow logo on her cape. You can see a badger in the middle.
"I'm a Hufflepuff!" she smiles and giggles. "The best house according to me, but I'm supposedly a bit biased."
"Which do you think I'll get into?" you ask.
"I'm not sure. It's hard for me to say after only talking with you for thirty minutes … but I think you could be a Hufflepuff like me … or a Gryffindor."
"Why a Gryffindor?"
"I don't know, but you seem to have a steady heart."
"Which is the worst house?"
"There's no such thing as a 'worst house', Y/N. Every house has both good and bad people — even Hufflepuff. Although some houses may have a bigger percentage of 'bad' people." She sighs. "Slytherin. Although I do have some friends from Slytherin, some of the students in that house can be quite … scary. Their pride can be extremely big and they let that go out over other people. Don't worry about it though, not everyone is mean."
You nod and gulp.
Hedwig catches you up on some easy spells and knowledge on the rest of the way. You avoid every type of question that can lead her to know about your … situation.
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You get sorted into a house in private, after Hedwig asks the principal about not pulling so much attention to you. You're embarrassed as if already. You're a Ravenclaw.
"The uniform is so pretty on you, Y/N!" she gasps as you come out of Dumbledore's office. "The blue looks really good on you."
"Thank you", you say and feel the material. "What do I do now?"
"We'll go back to the welcome ceremony and then you'll have to talk to your prefects. They'll fill you in with everything you need to know." She takes your hands in hers. "If you ever need any books, let me know and I'll lend you one, okay?"
"Thank you, Hedwig."
She doesn't let your hands go. You have to pull them back to be able to walk to the hall. You sit down with the other third years and glance over to Hedwig’s table.
"You know Hedwig?" a Ravenclaw boy with black eyes asks. 
"I met her on the train", you say.
"She's the most popular girl in our year", a girl says. "Everyone wants to be her friend."
"Really?" you wonder and glance at Hedwig who's sitting and smiling with her fellow Hufflepuffs. "She never came across as someone popular."
Maybe you're too used to how the people back home act.
When all the first years have gotten their houses and the food has been devoured, you follow your prefect through mighty corridors that have ghosts flowing past. You enter a rower with a long, spiral staircase. Your legs hurt after four steps.
"Y/N", the prefect says. "Before I show you to the dormitory, I need to talk to you a bit. Do you know any magic at all?"
"Hedwig taught me a bit on the train", you reply, concluding that only saying her first name should work if she's as popular as that boy had insisted.
"You'll have to take extra classes unless you want to start all over with the first graders."
You shake your head quickly. Rather hard work now than be known as 'the third grader among first years' for your entire school time.
You're led into the dormitory and granted your own bed. Your things are already in your drawers. After this long, eventful day, you fall asleep quickly, finally where you should be. When waking up, you’re first confused about where you are, sure that everything that happened yesterday was just a nightmare … but no, it was all real. 
"Now, don't be alarmed, my dear", Hedwig says when you meet her. "You will do just fine, okay?"
"I have never been around the castle", you mumble and take a bite out of your toast. 
"Your first lesson is Transfiguration. You'll have that class with the Slytherin students."
"Will we have any classes together?"
Hedwig smiles widely. "Sure, we will. But I think you better go now, you start in ten minutes." 
Hedwig shoots her book over the table.
"Here you go" she smiles. "Good luck now, I'll meet you for lunch, okay? You can sit with me."
"Okay, thank you", you say quietly and walk out of the great hall. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest and you start to wonder if the feeling of needing to throw up is real or only imaginary.
You find yourself lost in the large corridors before finally finding your way.
"I'm so sorry", you say quietly as you enter. "I lost my way."
"I will have mercy on you this time", the professor says. "But don't think that this will be a habit of yours, young lady. I expect you to be on time from now on."
"Of course, Professor McGonagall. I'll never be late again."
"Very well." She looks around. "Sit down beside Edmund, all the Ravenclaw seats are filled."
"Yes, professor."
You glance over the class and see an empty seat with a boy wearing the Slytherin uniform sitting beside it. He looks bored out of his mind. Carefully, you make your way over and sit down. Edmund glances at you.
"Who are you?" he mutters. "Are you a transfer student or something?"
"Something like that", you answer. 
The class starts and you immediately feel your head spin. You can't keep up.
"What's the matter, new girl?" Edmund chuckles while he leans his cheek in his hand. 
"I-I've never done anything like this!" you hiss to avoid anyone else hearing. 
Edmund’s face drops. He seems to … crawl together without having to move.
"You're a … a-", he starts.
"Edmund and Y/N, if you're going to continue talking, I'll use the both of you as guinea pigs — literally!" the professor says sternly.
Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when the rest of the class turns to look at the both of You. Edmund rolls his eyes and grabs his book. When they turn around, you breathe out.
As break time starts, Edmund joins his friends.
"New girl", he says, catching your attention. "Next time, come earlier so I don't have to sit with you again."
"Of course", you mutter and leave.
You smile when you see Hedwig wait for you by the entrance to the big hall. She holds out her hand.
"I've missed you!" she smiles and hugs you tightly. "I was worrying for you all through Herbology!" She holds your hand while pulling you with her. "Tell me everything!"
You sit down by the Ravenclaw table to eat. Hedwig’s hazel eyes never leave yours. 
"I came late, so I sat down beside a Slytherin student."
Hedwig's smile thins out slightly. "Oh? Who? Do I know them?"
"His name is Edmund."
Hedwig chokes on her pumpkin soup and starts to cough. 
"What's wrong?" you ask quickly and pat her back.
"Did he say anything to you?" Hedwig asks worriedly. 
"He just told me to be quicker to class next time so he didn't have to sit with me. A bit rude, if you ask me."
"A bit rude? Y/N, that boy is a bully!"
You feel a shiver run down your back. 
"Edmund is one of those bad Slytherins I told you about", Hedwig says quietly. "He's a pureblood and … thinks he's better than anyone else. It's said that his parents helped … well, you know who, before he disappeared two years ago." 
Hedwig had talked about that man on the train. You gulp.
"Whatever you do, Y/N — and promise me this — don't go close to Edmund", Hedwig says and holds your hands in hers. "Please?"
You nod. Hedwig smiles and caresses your cheek.
"Let's go to the library and study on the lunch break", she says. "There's so much you need to learn!"
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You study with Hedwig every day. But she doesn't seem to mind, she neglects her friends to be with you. 
"What a cute sight, isn't it?" you hear a voice say.
You're sitting in the courtyard, studying magical history. You look up, seeing Edmund and his two friends come over.
"One half and one mudblood, how sweet", he says with a wide smile. "They really do be letting anyone in these days."
“What is wrong with you?” Hedwig gasps. “Have you no shame?!”
“What? Did I say anything wrong? Aren’t you halfblood, Hedwig?” He turns to you. “New girl, aren’t you muggleborn? What did I say that is wrong, Hedwig?”
“You do not call Y/N that. You are a disgrace to the wizarding world, Edmund.”
“I find it funny how someone that isn’t fully pure is calling me a disgrace.”
Hedwig grabs your hand and helps you up on your feet. 
“Come, Y/N”, she says. “Let’s leave. We can’t study here.”
You nod. While Hedwig drags you away from the courtyard, you glance over your shoulders, seeing Edmund’s icy eyes follow you. 
“I can’t believe that he called you that”, Hedwig says quietly and pulls you with her. “I’m furious.”
“What did that mean?” you ask carefully. “Why did that matter so much?”
“Mudblood, Y/N, is one of the foulest things anyone can ever call a person. It basically means that your blood is disgusting for not being born into a wizard family. He … he called you something less than human. It’s disgusting.” Hedwig hugs you tightly and hides her face into your shoulder. “You don’t deserve that. You’re such a sweet soul, I’m so sorry.”
“Hedwig, it’s okay”, you promise with a smile. “I didn’t take any offense — I barely knew what it meant.”
“I get sad for you. You don’t deserve that.” She thinks for a moment and then lights up. "Would you like to have a sleepover?"
"How would that work out?" 
"Sneak into Hufflepuff, I'll give you the password. I'll take all the blame if we get caught. Please, Y/N? It'll be so much fun."
"The girls you share a dormitory with will be tell on us-"
"No, they won't! Trust me. The girls like me, they wouldn't tattletail."
It must be beneficial to be popular. You frown. Aren't you quite famous now too? After being glued to Hedwig’s hip for over a month must have caused rumors. You have been so busy with your extra classes and studying that you haven't been able to catch up with it all. You barely know what your fellow Ravenclaws are named.
"Please, Y/N?" Hedwig pleads. "It will be so much fun. I will get us some snacks and we can read together and tell stories."
"Where should I sleep?"
"In my bed, of course! We're friends, it's not weird. What do you say?"
"Alright, if you promise that we won't get in trouble."
"No one will tell, I promise!" She takes your hand. "Let's go to the library and study now."
You do sneak into the Hufflepuff common room that evening together with Hedwig. You can't help but feel terribly wrong and every motion you make feels watched. At any time someone will pop out and you'll be caught. Hedwig pulls you through the common room and you can't help but gawk. Why weren't you placed in Hufflepuff?
Wearing your pajamas, you climb down into Hedwig’s bed. She smiles, cuddling up beside you. Her arm hugs yours, her head leaning onto your shoulder. The other girls in the dormitory glances at you, but none of them say anything to you. 
“Y/N, what do you want to do?” she asks. “Would you like to read anything? Or just sleep? Or anything else?”
“I think I’d just like to sleep”, you say quickly. “My nerves are still telling me that this is a bad idea.”
You don’t admit it out loud, but you want it to be over as quickly as possible before someone finds you out. Hedwig nods and turns off the lights. You lay down in the light of the moon and feel how Hedwig crawls down beside you. She pets your hair in a loving manner, feeling it gently.
“You have such pretty hair”, she whispers, making sure no one else hears. “I always stare at it. Have you caught me looking?”
“Actually, no”, you smile. “I know you look at me a lot, but I didn’t know you looked at my hair specifically.”
“I’m not only looking at your hair, silly. I think you’re pretty.”
“I think you’re pretty too, Hedwig.”
“Really? Do you really think so?”
You nod. She seems to burst with happiness.
“But you already know that”, you say. “Everyone loves you. Everyone tells you that.”
“Yes, but there’s a difference when someone you don’t care about says it and when someone you hold dear tells you.”
You smile. Hedwig’s hazel eyes glisten in the moonlight as she smiles widely and curls up in your arms, like a cat. She holds you tightly, hiding her own face into your neck. You’re not sure how, but you do fall asleep easily that night — snug and secure in her warm embrace.
The next morning, Hedwig doesn't want to let you go. She begs you to skip breakfast and lay in bed, buy you insist on eating.
“Before we go, could you please try my uniform?” Hedwig pleads and holds up the yellow and black uniform. “I want to see how you’d look like if you were a Hufflepuff. Please, Y/N? Just for fun?”
“We’ll be late for breakfast”, you mumble. 
“Nonsense.”
She has already start to tug at your pajamas. You give in and put on the Hufflepuff uniform. Hedwig watches you with excited eyes. 
“Oh, why weren't you placed in Hufflepuff?” she sighs. “Why weren’t you placed with me?”
“I don’t know, Hedwig.”
“It’s so unfair.” She pouts. “We belong together. We’re destined to be side by side. Why did the sorting hat have to put us in two different houses?”
“The sorting hat has its reasons. Now, give me back my own uniform so that I can go to breakfast.”
“Yeah, yeah …”
You change into your own uniform before sneaking out to the corridor with no one in sight. A small smile plays on your lips. You managed to to do it!
Together, you walk to the great hall but before you reach it, Professor Snape has caught the both of you. 
“You two better follow with me”, he says coldly. “You’re both in deep trouble.”
Shit. He knows. 
Hedwig takes your hand, squeezing it. You only have time to look at her terrified eyes before you’re pulled into Snape’s office. He’s not alone. It seems like the entire faculty staff is there. Hedwig’s squeeze becomes tighter. 
“Y/N, you went into the Hufflepuff house this night”, Dumbledore says, not sparing any sweet talk. “That is strictly forbidden.”
“I made her do it”, Hedwig says firmly. “Y/N hesitated, I told her into it, I convinced her. Please don't punish her, I was the one giving out the password from the beginning."
"These are serious things, miss."
"I know. I just … I really want to be with Y/N." She takes your hand. "More than anything. I’m so sorry for causing all of this, professor. I will never do it again. Punish me only, please.”
“Snape, this is a clear sign of innocent love”, Dumbledore tells the other man. 
You flinch. Love?
“I don’t care”, Snape mutters. “They broke the rules.”
“I don’t see any malice in their intentions. They only wanted to be with each other. I will not punish them — this time — but if they do this again, I will give them a week’s long detention in different classes. I can’t punish miss Hedwig all too much, after all, she is Y/N’s tutor. But if you break the rules again, Hedwig, we will find someone else to tutor her, is that clear?”
“Yes, professor”, Hedwig replies. “Thank you for not punishing us. We will make sure to behave.”
“You can go.”
Hedwig tugs on your hand before you leave. Your head is spinning with confusion. Who snitched you out? Did one of the girls do that? They could risk house points and to get in conflict with Hedwig … no they wouldn’t risk any of that. Then who?
“Breaking rules is so not Hufflepuff behavior”, a voice snickers. 
You turn to the side, seeing Edmund lean against the wall. 
“You spied on us?” you ask. 
“Spy?” Edmund wonders and stands up. “I couldn’t care less about the two of you, don’t flatter yourselves. You two are like annoying, loud flies, I can’t ignore you because you’re always in my face.”
“Don’t listen to him”, Hedwig says and pulls on your arm. “Let’s go get some breakfast, Y/N.”
“Careful, Hedwig”, Edmund smirks. “You heard what they said: break one more rule and you lose tutor privileges over Y/N.”
You roll your eyes as the two of you walk alongside each other. Edmund’s words don’t feel good in your stomach and you have an eerie suspicion that he’s going to do something. 
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You sit out in the grass, reading. While Hedwig is having her defense against dark arts-class you have a free period. Deciding to take your alone time to your benefit, you decide to read up on some things beforehand.
"Where's your little halfblood?" you hear that voice ask.
You look up from your book, seeing Edmund and his two minions grin at you.
"In class", you answer shortly and start to change pages, hoping he gets the hint that you're busy and leaves you alone. 
Edmund snatches the book from you. You cut your finger on the paper. With a hiss, you stand up. Edmund laughs as he looks in the book.
"I learned this last year", he chuckles. "You really are a transfer student. Cute."
"Give it to me", you sigh. "I'm not in the mood, I have to learn that."
"You won't learn from the book. We barely used it for this topic."
"Great. I'm doomed."
"I could offer you some tutoring. I got full marks after all."
You frown. "Why would you do that?"
"What can I say? I'm a generous spirit. Besides, I'm bored. Teaching a little mudblood magic could entertain me for a week or two."
"Don't you have class?"
"Not until twelve thirty." Edmund points at the castle wall with the book. "Sit down, mudblood, let's learn."
That 'nickname' makes your stomach turn. After knowing the full definition, you'd rather have Edmund call you something along the lines of a whore — that way you could actually have some clever comebacks. Mudblood, on the other hand, is nothing you can answer to. You sit down slowly. Edmund sits down on your left side and his two minions on your right side. Edmund opens the book and puts his finger to a paragraph.
"See this?" he asks. "This is something you have to learn in case you want to pass. The checklist doesn't contain this, but it will come anyway. So learn it."
You nod. 
"Take up your wand", he says. "You have to learn this spell."
You pick up your wand from your pocket. Edmund orders one of his friends to stand in front of you as he holds his hand over yours, showing you how you're supposed to move. His hand is cold. The spell causes his friend's wand to be sent flying. You lay the word Expelliarmus onto your mind.
"This is actually great for dueling", he says. "We had some dueling classes last year, but I guess we'll have this year too. In that case, you'll have to have mastered these spells or you can kiss your ass goodbye."
"You'll end up in the hospital wing", one of Edmund’s friends grins.
"H-Hospital wing?" you say and damn yourself for stuttering. 
The three of them chuckles.
"Yes, little girl, hospital wing", Edmund smirks darkly. "Ending up there is never fun. People often scream in pain there. If you end up there you'll never be the same again."
Your wide eyes make Edmund laugh. He presses the book in your arms and stands up.
"Let's make a deal", Edmund says. "Do you know what quidditch is?"
"Hedwig told me on the train", you reply.
"I play. If Slytherin wins the next match, you're going to be my little maid for a full week. You'll do everything I tell you to. And if those ridiculous Gryffindors win, you're free from polishing my shoes."
"I don't get anything either way."
"Don't be greedy, transfer student."
He takes your hand and shakes it before you have time to register. 
"Now you can't back out", he smiles proudly.
"Did you enchant-?"
"Yes."
You rip your hand back, snatch your book and start to walk away. You meet up with Hedwig who's walking out of the classroom.
"What's wrong?" she asks quickly, rubbing your shoulder. "You look disturbed."
"Edmund and his friends cornered me outside. He forced me to make a deal with him."
Hedwig goes white. "What type of deal?"
"He plays quidditch and if he wins the next match, I have to be his maid for a week."
"Oh, my God, I hate him." She cups your cheeks. "We'll come up with a way to stop him or break the deal. Worst case scenario, we'll have to ruin for the entire Slytherin team and then we'll be dead, but if we have to then …"
You nod.
"Let's get you something to eat", Hedwig smiles and takes your hand.
She stays with you until your class starts. The second the classroom door closes, her smile drops. She makes her way over to the Slytherin entrance and waits for one to come out.
"What are you doing here?" the Slytherin girl asks.
"I need to speak to Edmund, do you know where he is?" Hedwig asks shortly.
"I'd suppose the quidditch court. He came in laughing and said that he had to train hard this time."
"That son of a- … thank you, for your help."
"No problem."
The Slytherin girl passes her and Hedwig scoffs. The audacity of Edmund …
She makes her way over to the quidditch court, finding him training all alone. He doesn't notice her at first, but when he does  a smirk plays on his lips. He flies down to the ground and steps off his broom, holding it close to his body.
"Well, well", he says. "I start to believe that you're obsessed with me the way you're always hanging around. By the way, did you know that there's a rumor going around about you and Y/N? You're not slick, you know. Everyone knows that you're head over heels for her."
"Cut the talk, Edmund. Break the deal with Y/N. She has enough on her plate. I'm not going to let you hurt her."
"You came here to threaten me? Careful now, Hedwig, think about what you're doing." 
"I'm not going to let you take her from me."
Edmund takes a step closer. His icy cold blue eyes seem to darken without having to change their light color. "Listen closely, you filthy, little halfblood", he hisses. "If you try to interfere — if you even try as much as to stick your pointy little nose into my business — I'll put you into the hospital wing until I'm done with Y/N. Is that clear?"
Hedwig can't answer. Edmund walks past her, intentionally hitting her shoulder with his. 
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The day for the match arrives. 
"I think that I'm going to throw up", you mutter, taking a hold of the wood railing in front of you.
The two teams are flying above you, tension growing.
"I'm sure he won't win", Hedwig says, but she sounds hesitant. 
“Slytherin has the lead!"
"Let's hope that the Gryffindor seeker gets the snitch."
"Did you manage to destroy for Edmund?"
Hedwig shakes her head carefully. You groan and rest your forehead down on the wooden railing. Another score has been made and you don't want to look. Finally, someone has caught the snitch. Slytherin wins. You look up in horror, eyes darting to Edmund. He's looking right at you with a smirk. You're dead.
Already the next morning, Edmund waits for you outside the Ravenclaw entrance. He dumps his heavy books in your hands.
"We're having a class together", he says. "And you are going to carry my books."
You groan and take a better grip on his — and your — books, unsure how you're going to carry them all to the other side of the school.
"Where's your friends?" you ask.
"They're still at breakfast", Edmund replies as you start to walk. "I don't need them now, not when you're carrying my things. Speaking of friends, I don't want you to be with that annoying Hufflepuff during the entire week."
"I'm not going to be your dog."
"Oh, yes, you are — and you're going to bark if I tell you to."
"What am I going to do when you're in class and I'm not, then? Be all alone?"
"Yes, because if I find out that you've been talking to her, I'm going to make you wish you never transferred here, got that?"
You nod. Edmund doesn't say anything more until you reach the classroom. He catches up with his friends who laugh loudly when they see you. Oh, how you wish that you knew any transfiguration spell that could turn you into a mouse.
"Look, she's embarrassed!" one of his friends mock.
Others start to turn to look at you with chuckles. Their stares burn right through you. You want to hide your face in the pile of books in your hands. 
"Sit with me", Edmund says and grabs your tie to pull you with him. "You're going to take notes for me."
You sit down in the middle of the classroom. Edmund pushes you to the chair by the wall while he takes the aisle seat, trapping you. You take notes for him while simultaneously trying to ignore that he exists. Surprisingly, you're great at multitasking. 
You give him the notes as soon as the class is dismissed. Edmund reads it with a smirk on his face.
"Good job, little girl", he says. "I can actually read them." He folds it and puts it in his pocket. "Now, let's go get some air."
Together with his two friends, you walk out to the courtyard. You can see Hedwig with some of her friends walking from the Herbology classroom. She hugs books close to her body, one being the Herbology book, the other a book about potions. You meet her eyes. She suddenly looks incredibly sad, but tries to give you a small, reassuring smile. You're close to jumping out of your skin when you feel a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you see that Edmund has noticed Hedwig as well. He squeezes your shoulder while keeping eye contact with the girl. Hedwig turns her eyes away and speeds her steps.
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Not seeing Hedwig feels like a punishment in itself. Edmund and his friends aren't pleasant, at all — or at least not his friends, Edmund’s not been as bad as you thought. He's toned down on the vulgar nicknames and started small talking when you're walking.
"Stop fucking yawning", Edmund mutters and hits you in the back of your head.
"Why are we up before the sun?" you whine and rub your eyes.
"You're going to watch my quidditch practice."
He drags you out into the cold, autumn air, over to the high wooden pillars of the quidditch court. You're sat down in the Slytherin section and told to sit there until he's done. Edmund disappears to the changing room and comes out in his quidditch uniform. You sit still, watching. You can't quite understand the rules, even if you've already watched a match. You're unsure of what Edmund’s position is or what the flying balls are used for. Every minute grows colder. When the sun has risen, you're as cold as ice. You can no longer feel your fingers or toes.
Edmund flies over to you, now holding his Slytherin scarf and gloves in his hand.
"You're so stupid, why didn't you bring your own scarf?" he mutters while tying his around your cold neck. 
"I barely knew who I was when I walked out of the common room", you mumble. "I was so tired. And now I'm cold and hungry."
"You do nothing but complain, do you? Breakfast is in an hour. Think you can hold out until then?"
You nod tiredly. 
"Good girl" he says and puts the gloves on your cold hands. "Keep your hands in the gloves and put them in your pockets. You're like a child, unbelievable."
Ironic, coming from a brat like Edmund. You take a deep breath and sink into the seat. When Edmund’s done, he changes into his normal uniform and comes to meet you. You start to take off the scarf, but his hands stop you.
"Leave it on", he says shortly. "Come now."
The second you enter the castle, you feel warmer. You're about to remove the scarf for a second time.
"God, woman, just keep it on, will you?" Edmund mutters and ties it to the point where you choke. 
"We're inside now, I don't need it anymore."
"Oh, trust me, you do."
"Why?"
Edmund smirks. "To give your girlfriend a sweet little memory."
"We're not together though."
Edmund furrows his brows and nods, clearly thinking hard.
"Very well", he says. "Winners keeper, I say."
"What?" 
"Nothing."
His icy blue eyes sparkle in a new, competitive way, like he's now gotten a new challenge. His hands tie a double knot in the scarf before sending you off to the Ravenclaw table. The others give you weird glances. By now, it's not a secret that you're Edmund’s pet. Although it's only two days left of your week, you're sure that your reputation as his dog will stay with you throughout your entire schooling. 
You look around, noticing Hedwig sitting by the Hufflepuff table. She looks at you with something you can't describe in her eyes, something dark. She holds something in her hand. You can just make out the outline of a small, pink bottle. She gives you a small, sad smile. All you want is to go over and hug her, but you remember Edmund’s warning. You have a class together after breakfast however, he can’t forbid you from going to it. 
Your plate is already set out with a glass full of pumpkin juice. Devouring it would be an understatement — especially after the morning you’ve had. You're happy no one is taking a picture.
The day continues normally after Edmund’s rude awakening. You can meet up with Hedwig in Herbology class, and oh, how happy you're to see her. You hug her tightly, earning a mirroring squeeze back. She buries her head into your hair. 
"I've missed you so much", she coos, hugging you tightly. “So, so much.”
You breathe her in, mind getting fogged up with her scent. Oh, how you want nothing more than to ditch Edmund and be with her. Hedwig doesn't seem to mind how you cling onto her and you’re surprised yourself with how much you want to hold onto her. She strokes your hair with a smile. Being back with Hedwig — despite Edmund's warnings — feels like absolute paradise. The few days spent apart has made you see her in a completely new light. You’ve forgotten how pretty she is. 
"I can't watch that anymore", she sighs and starts to remove the Slytherin scarf from your neck. "Where is your scarf, dearest?"
"In my dormitory", you answer sheepishly. 
Hedwig gives you a motherly stern gaze before taking off her Hufflepuff scarf and tying it around your neck. It smells just like her.
"That's better", Hedwig smiles. "Don't you think so?"
You nod. Much, much better. The teacher interrupts your talk with demands of the two of you working. You don't mind, because you work with Hedwig who knows exactly what to do. 
"Would you like to read on the break?" Hedwig asks you.
You nod, not even thinking about Edmund’s threats. You follow her out to the yard, sitting on one of the brick walls with her. You lay down with her head in her lap while she reads aloud for you. You can't focus on the words, only how they're formed through Hedwig's pink lips. You want to feel them on yours. Before you have time to think, you reach up to kiss her. Her lips melt into yours instantly.Hedwig lets go of her book and cups her cheeks to kiss back. Fuck Edmund, you think. You pull Hedwig closer, wanting to be filled with her and her only. Everything about her is soft, even her kisses. They're filled with love and taste like strawberry.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the voice you've just damned says angrily. "I warned you, mudblood, didn't I?"
He rips you from Hedwig, up on your feet. Edmund glances from Hedwig to you, and back. He halts and grabs a hold of your face, opening your eyes with his thumbs. 
"You sneaky bitch!" he gasps. "You've given her a love potion!"
"I have not", Hedwig replies defensively. 
"Really? Then why are her pupils heart shaped?"
Hedwig doesn't answer. Edmund grabs a hold of your arms.
"If you excuse me, I'm going to go shove my fingers down her throat to get it out of her", he says coldly.
"You are not!" Hedwig screeches and rips you back.
"Then you'll get it out of her. I don’t care how, but Y/N is going to puke that love potion out before the break is over. Y/N is still mine, remember? I have two more days to do whatever I want with her."
Hedwig groans. Edmund, you, Hedwig and Edmund’s two friends make your way to the girls bathroom. The boys wait outside while Hedwig takes you into the bathroom stalls. She helps you throw up the love potion, holding your hair in her hands. 
“And there goes my well earned breakfast …”, you sigh groggily and get up from your knees. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N”, Hedwig whispers guiltily with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want to trick you or anything, please don’t believe that. I-I just … I was scared that Edmund had manipulated you. I had to make sure that you knew that … he wasn’t good.”
You sigh and nod heavily. “I understand, but I had wished that you hadn’t given to me without my knowledge.”
“I’m really, really sorry. Can you please forgive me?”
The tears fall down her cheeks. You can’t be mad at her, not after every nice thing she’s done to you. You can see how bad she feels. You’re sure that she won’t do it again. 
“Of course”, you say. “I’m just grateful that you didn’t make a potion that did something bad. It wasn’t the potion itself that was bad, it was the way you did it.”
“I understand. I’ll never do it again, I promise! I will never, ever do anything like that again!” She takes your hands and sniffles. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I-I do like you more than a friend … but I will not let that come between our friendship. Please don’t leave me. I can lose every single friend I have … but not you. Oh, God, not you.”
You can hear Edmund bang on the door to the girls bathroom impatiently and you sigh.
“I can’t spend time with you right now”, you say. “Edmund’s right — unfortunately — I have two more days in his captivity. If not, he’s promised to ruin my life. I don’t want to take that risk, I’ve had enough problems.” You squeeze her hands. “It’s just two more days.”
Hedwig sniffles and nods. “Okay.”
You give her a small smile before going back to Edmund. He tells his friends to take you further down in the corridor while he talks with Hedwig. She wipes her tears and glares at him. 
“Silly girl”, Edmund scoffs. “You’re not that bright, are you?”
“I don’t know what you want Y/N, but at least I didn’t do anything to cause her harm, like you do”, Hedwig answers sharply. “I did something that would benefit her.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Y/N belongs to me now and if you don’t want to get hurt, Hedwig, stay out of my way, got it? I’m warning you. If I were you, I’d listen.”
Hedwig takes a step closer. “I’m not going to let anybody take her from me.”
Edmund’s eyebrow twitches. “Alright then. Suit yourself.”
With that said, he walks towards his friends and you, leaving Hedwig behind. He rips of the Hufflepuff scarf. 
“Get that ugly thing off of your neck”, he mutters and drags you with him. “Can’t even leave you alone for five minutes! Can’t fucking believe that little filth. If Hedwig gets to play dirty, then I do too.” He stops to wipe of your lips. “If you ever kiss her again, I’ll kill her.”
You try push his arm off of you, but instead, it tightens and he gives you a stern look. 
“I should just do it …”, he mutters. 
“Do what?”
He gives your lips a quick peck. You stand as frozen, looking up at him in shock. Edmund rests his hand on your cheek. 
“Never kiss her again.”
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jyoongim · 2 months
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A Deal With God
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Themes: fem!reader, Morningstar!reader, Angst, mention of character death, secrets, religious themeAlastor being Alastor, fluff, slight smut, deal-making,  soul possession, Lilith a shitty mother/wife/sister, established relationship, difficult family dynamic, there’s a trope in here I just don’t know what to call it?
Chapter 1
chapter 2
You had ordered Niffty that some rooms needed to be spruced up and took the liberty to tidy up the lobby yourself.
You hummed to the sound of the song playing on the radio as you neatly stacked whatever plans Charlie was coming up with in the night.
Charlie.
Your heart ached for the Princess.
After Lilith left, the Princess had founded a hotel to help redeem the souls of the damned.
You were unsure of her plan, but you could never deny her.
damn those puppy eyes.
So here you were, seven years later, helping your niece with her wild endeavor.
But you weren’t alone; 
“Aaahh just the doll I wanted to see!” A radio-like voice chirped.
Alastor.
You smiled in greeting to the lanky demon.
Alastor, the famed and fearsome Radio Demon.
You were a bit skeptical when he showed up at your door, but when he offered to help Charlie you took him in.
Who were you to say no to help? You needed the extra hands.
”Hello Al, did you need something?” The tall demon smiled down at you as he shook his head.
”Nooo just thought I would check in. How’s Charlie’s new plan along?” You laughed “ooh their a coming thats for sure” nodding towards the board she had made the other night.
An idea popped into your head “Why don’t you make a commercial Al ” He went to make a comment, but you interrupted him “A proper commercial. The sinners need to know the benefits of the hotel and that there is hope”
you waltz up to him, a soft smile on your as you batted your eyes at him ”pretty please?” You wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He hummed, seeming to mull over the thought, chuckling
”fine fine”
You grinned “Thank you”
He whistled as he walked out the room, you smiled after him, getting back to your task.
Your phone ringed and you answered without seeing who called. “Hello?”
A nervous laugh responded “Heeeyyy bitch”
Lucifer.
You rolled your eyes “Hello to you too Luci ”
He groaned at the nickname.
”Ugghh so hows things been….” He wanted something.
“Whaaaaat? N-Nothing what makes you think I want something?” 
he couldn’t see your face, but you were making a pointed face.
”Okay okay its just- hows-hows Charlie?” He asked.
You frowned “Charlie is fine, through it wouldn’t hurt if you came by and saw your daughter Luci”
You hadn’t forgave him for setting Charlie up to chat with Heaven months ago when he should have been the one to settle things between them.
Charlie might have a optimistic view of the world, but she lacked experience. You should have been the one to be at that meeting.
But nevertheless.
”I-I don’t know about that…” he trailed off. But you were quick to fix that avoidant nature of his.
”Come to the hotel. Come see what your daughter is trying to do. No one would take this seriously if the King doesn’t approve himself. If not that, just come see your daughter Luci, she needs more than just me around” you felt bad for guilting him but this had to be done.
Charlie was growing into an excellent leader, you were sure she would make a great queen one day.
”so you’ll be here tomorrow? Great see you then. And don’t forget…I can see you so don’t make me drag your ass here tata”
———————————————————————————————
Charlie had gathered everyone to the lobby to come up with ways to recruit sinners to the hotel.
 Charlie was nothing if a perfectionist and always took on more than she could chew.
”Hey babe maybe its time to use some of that royal privilege” Vaggie suggested, she gave a quick look in your direction, making Charlie shake her head feverishly
”no no no my auntie has already done so much! I can’t ask her to do anything else”
You smiled, but chimed in to support Vaggie “She’s right Charlie.” Your niece gawked at you.
You approached her, slipping a arm around her shoulder in comfort “Now I know it’s been rough and weird between you and your father buuuuuuut I took the liberty in inviting him here” she groaned “what? Noooooooo” you shushed her whining
“Now now you’ll get to show him that what you’ve been doing is good for the kingdom. That your heart’s in the right place. He’ll help I promise”
Charlie rested her head on your shoulder, groaning in defeat
”w-when will he be here?”
”Oh in a hour”
”WHAT?!”
———————————————————————————————-
“OH Charlie its so good to see you!” Lucifer exclaimed pulling his daughter into a tight hug.
You smiled, giggling as Charlie choked out a response to her father. You pulled him away from her, giving him a hug
”Nice to see you too Luci” the King blushed and looked around.
”sooooo this is what you two have been up to? It sure got some….character ” he said nervously.
“Well we had some help” you gestured to Alastor. Lucifer eyes narrowed slightly “uuuhhh hhhuuuhh suuurre and who might you be?” Alastor eye twitched before quickly shaking his hand “Alastor! Pleasure to meet you sir… I must say you are…much unimpressive than what I imagined” he mused, causing the man to deadpan.
You cleared your throat “Alastor here has been a tremendous help with the hotel. I don’t know what we would have done without him” you praised.
Lucifer growled as Alastor wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you into his side.
Alastor sneered at the monarch “Aaah yes what creative ladies I have here. I am HAPPY to fulfill any wish they desire” he grinned down at you, giving you a slight squeeze.
”hmmmm sister dear why don’t you show me around” he whacked Alastor’s hand with his cane and pulled your arm away from him with a tight smile.
Charlie and Alastor followed the two of you as you gave a quick briefing of the hotel, letting Charlie take over and show her dad around.
You sighed happily, it was nice to see Charlie interact with her dad. You hoped that he would see the big picture and offer her some guidance and support.
You leaned your head against Alastor’s shoulder, turning to return to the lobby
”Let’s leave those two to catch up shall we?”
He huffed but followed you anyway.
———————————————————————————-
“Well it is a very good plan b-but I don’t know Charlie” Lucifer sighed. Charlie’s face dropped. “Daaad this is the only way to prove to Heaven that sinners deserve a second chance”
Lucifer looked away from his daughter “Charlie you don’t understand-” she huffed,frustrated “what don’t I understand?  That my own father don’t believe in me? If Auntie can why can’t you?” She was holding back tears.
You were on the fence at first too, but you were willing to help her out. You supported her crazy ideas and even encouraged that she gave it her all. 
Yes it might have been far fetched,  but you believed that Charlie could do what Lucifer could not.
”Heaven wont listen to you Charlie! They didn’t listen to me. What makes you think you can change their minds?” 
You knew it was a tough question.
Charlie didn’t know the hardship of how Heaven operated.
How much Lucifer had spent centuries trying to convince them that humanity was capable of doing amazing things.
Hell, if sinners had mortal souls why couldn’t they change after death?
But you knew. Heaven was convinced that the rules were black and white. Hell was made to punish the most severe sinners.
of course this is flawed for several reasons
Hell was a punishment to all who fell.
Lucifer knew this.
But why couldn’t things change?
Charlie turned to you, a look of frustration and sadness on her face. You intervened. “Luci just one meeting. One meeting with Heaven so Charlie can at least try. I know you can’t see that things could change, but think about the possibility. Why should a sinner be damned if there’s a second chance? Heaven shouldn’t be able to decide what a person’s soul is capable of”
Lucifer sighed.
You always had a way of making him see possibilities in things.
If you believed in Charlie, then that must have meant…
”what are the odds in this succeeding” he asked you
You blinked. 
You knew what he was asking.
Your sight of everything was always nearly right.
”Theres a few bumps to sort out, but it’ll be fine” you said.
he grimaced.
”Ill even go to Heaven with her” you offered.
Charlie was going to need all the backup she needed up there.
Angels could be a piece of work.
Lucifer sighed, before turning to his daughter “Fine. One meeting-” Charlie launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his small frame and she jumped around
”thank you thank you thank you!”
He smiled, returning her hug.
Charlie ran off to find Vaggie and tell her while you watched Lucifer.
”It wont stop anything” he said as you ushered him into the office.
You hummed, pouring a cup of tea as you looked out the window into the city on the horizon.
”You don’t know that” you whispered.
Silence filled the air between the two of you.
”H-have you…you know” he started to say nervously
You turned to him, seeing him fiddle with his wedding ring.
Your stomach curled.
”what” you growled out unintentionally 
he swallowed “Have you seen Lilith?”
You stilled. Your wrist burned in warning
promise me
”I can’t tell you that” you said curtly.
Lucifer glared at you “you’ve been saying that for years!”
”and you always get the same response” you said back
He stood up and angrily approached you.
”Have you no shame? I know you. You can’t lie to me!” He was starting to raise his voice
”Luci calm dow-” 
“NO! You can see everything! Everything and everyone! so tell me sister have you seen my wife…have you seen Lilith?!”
he was grabbing your arms, shaking.
You hated the look of despair on his face, hoping that you would at least tell him something.
But your wrist burned at his question, and your anger of being put in such a predicament got the better of you.
You hissed at him “No.” you held his glare, before he sighed letting you go. He ran a hand through his hair, backing away from you “Im sorry i-i didn’t mean that”
You clicked your tongue at him sighing
”Oh Luci…” you cupped his cheek, you couldn’t tell him where she was, no Lilith made sure of that,but you could show what you’ve seen.
Lucifer’s eyes widened as flashes of his wife appeared in his mind. He didn’t know where she was,but she seemed…happy.
”I know you worry about Charlie but I will never let anything happen to her. Heaven can act all high and mighty, but surely someone up there will see reason” you said to him, breaking him out of his trance.
He shook his head slightly, giving you a soft smile, nodding.
“Sooooo you and that bellhop…” he wiggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. You tensed, looking away embarrassed. He laughed “Oh? Shy? Not you” you glared at him, folding your arms across your chest in defense “w-what? Theres nothing wrong with me trying to pursue someone” you grumbled. Lucifer smiled. It was cute at how flush you were. 
You were always the serious one.
Never really doing things for yourself.
You always held duty and responsibility above all things.
So seeing you blush over some tacky, old times fuck  guy was refreshing.
So he teased “Oooh no the Queen can do anything or anyone she likes”
You growled at him, making him laugh harder as he gave you a hug and bid you goodbye as he teleported, leaving you with your thoughts.
“Well that was interesting” you whipped around to see Alastor walking from the shadows.
You laughed nervously, “Alastor! I didn’t hear you come in…how muuuch of that did you hear?”
He smiled down at you, tilting his head “ooooh nothing I wont repeat my dear” he tapped your nose.
He rested a hand on your lower back to escort you to your room like a proper gentleman.
He kissed you goodnight before venturing off to his radio tower. He had to organize some of his thoughts.
Alastor knew you were powerful he admits only that! but he hadn’t expected you to be the Queen of Hell itself.
Yes you were the Princess’s aunt but he just chalked it up to you just having power by blood alone.
The Queen of Hell….hmph. 
Pride swelled in his chest at the thought as well as a wicked smile graced his lips His darling was one of the most powerful in all of Hell that gave him a power trip and a lingering thought
How the fuck were you the Queen? 
Just how powerful were you?
And one last thought before he turned on his broadcast
How could he use that power you wielded?
@dasimp777 @projectdreamwalker @fairyv-ice @stygianoir @k1y0yo @thewinchestah @imgonnadielaughing-blog @purplecatsandhearts @blinderthanabats-blog @saphiresai @th3-st4r-gur1 @evedenn @queenariesofnarnia @yoitsnetto @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @alastorsdear @peachedtv
@tpks @siiv3r @markster666 @okay-babe @strawberrypimp666 @coleisyn @simphornies @lunaramune @alastorsdarling @prosciuttosblog @ioniiaa @fizzled-phoenix @horrorartsworld @polytheatrix @dennsfz @yourdoorisunlocked @stawberrypimpsimp @alishii @alleystore @preciousbabypeter @yunimimii @peachedtvs @karolinda007-blog @chewbrry @aviradasa
comment below so i can see if I’m missing anyone who wants to be tagged…ALSO each chapter is linked to the last and next…
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"𝑨𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒚" (Aemond x Reader)
A/N: I want to first say. I STRUGGLE with writing dialogue in different periods. So if I make this into a fic it is going to take me so long because I will have to read other people's stories and rewatch the show so the dialogue can be somewhat realistic. Hopefully, I do well...If not. Don't tell me shit. I don't wanna hear it. // Divider by @firefly-graphics
Summary: You return with your family to King's Landing to defend Lucerys against your uncle Vaemond but he is not the uncle you worry about. Your mind is filled with the man you were once betrothed to what he will say when he sees you, and how he will act. You worry about how your Uncle Aemond will treat you after all this time.
Next Chapter →
Tw: Oral Sex (f receiving)
Word Count: 5.4k (an absolute fucking monstrosity written in a couple hours)
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"Would say it's nice to be home but I scarcely recognize it." Daemon hums slightly before walking around looking at every bit of the wall in disgust. Rhaenyra turns to you and your brothers. "I trust you three will stay out of trouble while we go visit your grandsire?"
Your brothers nod their heads as you all take your turn to look over what was once your home. It feels...darker than it did when you lived here, almost abandoned. If it was not for the servants walking around you would think it was.
Rhaenyra and Daemon walk away leaving you and your brothers.
"Come on. I want to see if that hole is still in the wall in the training yard." Luke rolls his eyes at the stupid memory which makes you smile. You follow after them as they try to recall the way there.
You don't listen to their conversation as Jace points out the hole that still remains. You can barely pay attention to anything anyone is saying. Your brain has been in panic mode since the moment you were told you would be returning here.
Scared to face your previous betrothed. You feel someone's hands wrap around yours and snap you out of your thoughts.
"Are you alright?" Luke says softly and looks at you worriedly. You nod and ruffle his hair with a smile.
"Im fine. Just...feels weird being back." He doesn't let go of your hand. You notice as he looks around at all the people staring at him and Jace. It had always been like this, people often compared you to your brothers in how different you looked. How you carried Targaryen features while they resembled Harwin Strong.
Unknown to you or your brothers at the time Rhaenyra and Laenor did truly try to conceive at least one trueborn child. But in the end, it was all too uncomfortable for them. It was only on their second try did they attempt it in another way. Laenor at first stayed in the room alone getting himself just before his peak so that when Rhaenyra came in all he had to do was empty himself inside of her. That one time resulted in you. The only child related to Laenor in both blood and name.
Jace comes and pulls Luke away to watch a fight you couldn't care less about. You walked around the yard looking at the various weapons laid out. You knew that you could fight far better than most of the men here, having been trained by Daemon himself.
Bored by the dusty swords and daggers you turn to watch the fight from the other side. Your heart dropped into your ass as you see the man before you.
He was tall...you always thought he would be. His hair sadly no longer carried those curls that once coiled around your fingers as he read to you. An eyepatch sat over his eye breaking your heart as you recalled the night.
"Get off of him!" "Stop it, Jace!" "Don't hurt him!"
You clamped your eyes closed wanting to fight off the painful memory. You were weak then, unable to help. You couldn't protect him in any way that mattered.
The claps of everyone around you had you opening your eyes once more. You watched as Aemond bested Criston in a duel.
"Well done, my prince, You'll be winning tourneys in no time."
"I don't give a shit about tourneys. Nephews...have you come to train?" You see the look on Luke's face and you feel bad for him. He and Jace had spent most of their time trying to learn High Valyrian and barely picked up a sword unless forced to. Aemond had clearly spent all his time training since the accident.
"Open the gates!" Everyone turns to watch as the guards open the gates and men carrying the banners of Velaryon walk in. You walk over to your brothers and hold onto Luke's hands as Vaemond passes by staring Luke down. Vamond's expression only softens as he looks at you and he offers you a warm smile.
The same smile he had given you at Laena's funeral as he took the opportunity to call your brother's bastards in such a sad time. You hear Luke audibly gulp and you try to soothe him by running your fingers over his knuckles.
"Let's go inside." You place a hand on Jace's back to calm him down as you notice the look of anger on his face at the sight of Vaemond.
As you turn to enter the Red Keep your eyes automatically land on Aemond who now wears an expression you can't quite place. His eyes are only on you and for a moment it feels like there's only you two but Jace is quick to step in front of your view and to give Aemond a look you can't see. Whatever it is has him turning around in anger and returning to sparring with Criston.
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You walk with Rhaenyra and Rhaena towards Rhaenys.
"Grandmother" Rhaena calls out and basically runs over to her. You follow behind her.
"Rhaena..." Rhaena stands before her as Rhaenys holds her hand. You step beside her and Rhaenys looks over to you. She steps forward and places a hand on your cheek. "You two have grown beautifully." She kisses both of your cheeks.
"Baela said you might be here." Your mother comes closer, each step wary. "She's done well as your ward. You've um... raised her admirably." Rhaenys doesn't look over and keeps her eyes trained on both you and Rhaena.
"You honour me, Princess." Rhaenys smiles softly at Rhaenyra.
"Might I speak to the Princess alone, girls?" Rhaena looks to your grandmother almost for permission. She nods and lets go of both of you.
"Princess." Rhaena begins to walk away. You give your grandmother another kiss on the cheek before leaving.
Rhaenyra smiles at you as you walk away to join Rhaena.
"What do you think they're talking about?" You both look back once more before heading inside.
"I have no idea." You look at your mother who steps closer to your grandmother. Rhaene takes your arm and you turn to her. "Come. Let us go find the boys."
That night it rained and the sound of thunder filled your old chambers. His face filled your memories. His voice echoed in your ears.
"Can I kiss you Aemond?" Your fingertips ran over the dip of his lips as you imagined what they would feel like on yours."You never have to ask Princess."
You touch your lips at the memory of your first kiss. The only kiss you ever got to share with him. How soft his kiss was, how gentle he was. Your lips yearned for another kiss. Your body begs for his warmth and your heart breaks. It breaks at the memory of when your betrothal was cancelled when you knew the future you both talked about would never happen.
"How many children will we have?" Your head lay in his lap as he read a book, his fingers twirling your hair as you pick the petals of a flower. "As many as you are willing to bear me, Princess." You blush brightly which only brings a smile to his face. But your brain always knows how to ruin the moment as a new thought plagues your mind."Would you be angry at me if I had a girl first?" Aemond closes his book and looks down at you. "I could never be angry at you."
You sat up in your bed to the sound of a knock at the door. Your hands roughly smooth over your head pushing your hair back as if it wipes away the memories and dreams.
How can one live like this? How can one continue on in life like this? He is in every breath you take, every time you close your eyes his face decorates the darkness that you simply wish would consume you. You are reminded of him in every waking moment of your life.
Another knock comes to your chamber doors and you know you have no choice but to start your day. You sweat at the thought of seeing him again.
Will he keep to his words? Will he not be angry with you for being gone for so long? For not sending any letters? You did not want to find out. In truth you just want to stay in your chambers all day and sleep, but for the sake of Luke you would attend the hearing.
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"The crown will now hear the petitions." Otto sits on the throne as his voice echoes throughout the hall. "Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."
Vaemond steps forward as everyone looks towards him. Everyone but Aemond. You can see him in the corner of your eye his gaze is focused on you. Never looking away, never taking a break.
You stand next to Daemon looking forward. Knowing that if you even willed your eyes to move it would land on him. And you couldn't bear to look at him.
"My Queen. My Lord Hand." Vaemond then goes on to talk about the history and the days of Old Valyria. You can't hear him, you can't hear anything once more over the beating of your heart.
"Iksis bisa iā qogror iā elekor?" [Is this a class or a hearing?] Daemon whispers to you. He notices your rigid stance and how you're taking in shallow breaths. He places a hand on your elbow and you look over to him. He gives you a look of "Are you ok?" to which you nod.
He returns back to staring Vaemond down hoping he will eventually burn holes into the side of his head and will fall dead where he stands but not everyone is that lucky. It is only then that he notices a one-eye fucker staring in his direction. He shifts his gaze and notices Aemond staring at you. Aemond can feel someone looking at him and looking towards Daemon before pressing his lips in a thin line and giving Vaemond his attention.
"As it does in my sons and daughter, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon." You are snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of your mother's voice. You look over to her. "If you cared so much about your house's blood Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful hair." Vaemond holds a look of anger towards her. "No, you only speak for yourself. and for your own ambition."
"You will have a chance to make your own petition Princess Rhaenyra." You look towards Alicent. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." Next to her, you see the smirks of both Aegon and Aemond. You know they enjoy this, seeing Luke be openly called a bastard.
Why are your brothers blamed and dragged through the mud for what your mother has done? Are they not innocent in their own conceivement?
Vaemond gives Alicent a slight nod before turning towards your family.
"What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?" He speaks to your mother in a condescending tone. "I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it."
Your heart twinges for your mother. You feel conflicted all the time. On one hand, your brothers are indeed not blood-related to your father. But he had accepted them as his sons publicly no doubt. What could he have done for people to recognize them as his children? On the other hand, Vaemond proves a point in matters of blood. But is it not the last names people remember?
They both ride dragons, and they learn the tongue of the dragon. They are everything Targaryen but in matters of looks and blood. But that is more than enough for people to shun them. You want to side with them with your full heart, but how can you when you understand the opposition's points?
"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."
You look up in awe as you watch your grandsire slowly walk into the room. The only sound was the tapping of his cane against the floor. You had not seen him in so long, he looked so old and different. Hunched over and in pain.
You watch as he makes his way up to the throne and Daemon aids him. Otto moves over to stand next to Alicent and you can see the confusion and anger on his face. His plans are ruined and whatever chance he had at getting the Velaryons on their side is squandered.
"I must...admit...my confusion." Your grandsire breathes quickly as he tries to regain his strength. "I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession." You listen as he calls for your grandmother to speak.
You feel hot. This room feels hot. You pull repeatedly at the band on your wrist. A coping mechanism you developed when you felt so far away from everything. You snap the band against your wrist as you listen to your grandmother who only further pushes for Corly's wishes for Lucerys to be the next Lord of the Tides. You miss her announcing the marriage between your brothers and cousins.
You can't focus. He is still staring at you. You make the mistake of closing your eyes cause when you open them they are on him. You take in a sharp breath and stare back at him. Your heart feels as though someone is squeezing it, your chest heavy as if a dragon sits atop it. You want nothing more than to go over there but you keep your feet planted.
"That is no true Velaryon." You jump slightly looking towards your uncle as he angrily points at Luke. "and certainly no nephew of mine." Your mother tells your brothers to head to their chambers before attempting to silence Vaemond.
"You can not all be blind surely? To look upon both my grandniece and her sons and think they share the same father?" Everyone looks at you and for a moment you wish you could shrink into the walls, fade into the people behind you. "She even skips her daughter so that her son could inherit Driftmark when it belongs to my niece. She wishes to cover her tracks and erase my niece's future." You've never felt that way. You were never upset at your mother's decisions. Maybe you always assumed you'd end up with Aemond. "Gods be damned...I will not see it ended on the account of this-" Your eyes widen as you realize what he wishes to say.
You feel a heat radiate beside you and notice the body language of Daemon has changed. A hand rests on his sword as his head is cocked to the side.
"Say it." He whispers softly. Vaemond gives Daemon a smug look.
"Her sons...are BASTARDS! And she...is...a whore." Everyone gasps and you notice the heat beside you is missing. You watch as King Viserys unsheaths his dagger and calls for your uncle's tongue.
You then hear a thud and turn and see Vaemond's body hit the floor. His head was cut off at the mouth, his tongue still attached. Much happens in those moments but your eyes stay on Vaemond's body. It is only when your mother places a hand on your cheek you look away.
"Go with your grandmother. She might need comfort."
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You stand next to Rhaenys, holding her hand as the silent sisters work on your uncle.
"Did you ever feel that way, little ocean?" You look over to her as her eyes are trained upon his seperated head. "As if your mother was trying to erase you?"
"No, grandmother. To be honest. I had always imagined myself living here, in the Red Keep." You looked around the room watching the sisters move slowly and carefully.
"Married to Aemond." Your quick to look back towards her she offers you a faint smile before turning to you. "Come back with me, to Driftmark. Your grandsire would love to see you and I have missed your presence." You nod, not caring to say that you should ask the permission of your mother and father.
The Grand Maester walks over and speaks. You stare at the body of your uncle once more. Is this justice? He called your mother a whore and your brother bastards...but was he wrong?
"The Stranger has visited me more times than I can count, Grand Maester." You feel her squeeze your hand. "I assure you, he cares little whether my eyes are open or closed." You watch as he leaves. "You should go, little ocean. Your grandsire wishes for you to eat with your family."
"Will you not dine with us?" You brush your fingers against her hand.
"I fear I have lost my appetite." She kisses your head. "We will take our leave on the morrow." You nod before leaving the room with a final look towards your uncle.
As you enter the dining hall your family is already there. The table already has its sides. On the right sit your mother and your family and on the left sit the Queen and hers. The separation hurts you and you wish you could do something about it. Mend it in whatever way possible. You would give your own life if it meant uniting your family.
Jacerys offers his seat so you can sit next to Baela and he moves to her other side. The switch puts you next to Aegon but you do not mind. He has never been one to bother you before, and only ever makes small jokes, which you would never admit to his face, can be funny.
"Mother?" Rhaenyra turns in her chair towards you.
"Yes, my heart?" She places a hand on your arm you smile at the name. Each one of you had one, Jace was often referred to as her love, Luke as her sweet boy, and you her heart.
"Grandmother has requested I return with her to Driftmark... I'd like to. To see grandsire, if that is all right with you." She smiles softly and brings your hand to her lips as she kisses it.
"Of course." You hear the doors open and see your grandsire being carried in. "We will talk more later. Go sit." You walk over to your chair and stand until he is placed in his spot.
As you walk over you look up and see his eyes on you once more. He stands at the head of the table watching you. You sit only when you notice everyone else does and clasp your hands together when Alicent calls for prayer. You've read about the Seven and know only as much as books taught you. You hear Alicent's prayer but you pray your own. You ask The Warrior and The Smith to give you strength, you beg for forgiveness from The Maiden for your thoughts and acknowledge The Stranger, for you both feel like outcasts in this world.
"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena." It is only then that you feel the weight of his gaze lift, as he looks at your brother on the other end of the table. Your grandsire calls for a toast to your brothers. He calls for another toast for Lucerys as the future Lord of the Tides.
"I also want to say. How beautifully my granddaughter has grown." You feel the eyes of everyone turn to you, and your mother smiles. Even Alicent gives you a genuine gentle smile. "Im sure by your next nameday we will have found a suitable match for your hand. Let us toast in hopes you will find someone deserving of you." Everyone raises their glass.
But it is only Aemond who does not. You watch as Aegon leans over you towards Baela.
"He does know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"
"Let it be cousin," Baela responds clearly annoyed. Jace responds but you don't hear it whatever he says has Aegon sitting back down fully in his seat.
You stare forward as King Viserys makes a speech. You return to snapping the band against your wrist as you again feel the heat of his stare. Words are shared between the Queen and your mother before Aegon gets up and sets himself in between Baela and Jace.
"I, um I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask-" Jace bangs his hands on the table before standing up which leads to Aemond standing up as well ready to protect his brother if need be.
Aegon sits down quickly next to you. More speeches go on, too many speeches. You wish everyone would just shut up so we can all be done with this dinner. Either that or let us remove our masks and speak the truth. You have grown tired of this tension and fake genuineness.
You remain next to Aegon as food is brought out and Jace takes Helaena to dance. You can see the look on his face. He looks over your family with a sort of longing. Everything he has ever wanted on display in front of him.
"Would you care to dance uncle?" He looks over to you with a surprised look on his face. He puts down his cup and is about to put out his hand when someone clears their throat. You look over to the noise and see Aemond staring at the two of you.
"Not if I wish to lose my head." He picks his cup back up and returns to watching everyone. You look over to Aemond who only stares at you with no emotion.
You watch as guards walk over to your grandsire and take him away. You make a plan in your head to go visit him tonight to speak to him.
The mood is only spoiled as a pig is placed in front of Aemond. You hear the light chuckles of Luke and curse him in your head. You flinch as Aemond's hand bangs the table and he stands up picking up his cup.
"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace...Luke...and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise..." And in that pause alone you feel that separation between families grow. "...strong. Come...let us drain our cups to these three strong boys."
"I dare you say that again." You tense as Jace speaks already being able to tell where this is going.
"Why? 'Twas only a compliment." Aemond lowers his cups and walks over to Jace. "Do you not think yourself strong?" Jace punches Aemond...or...attempts to. Aemond still stands unwavering and not a drop spilt from his cup.
Aegon grabs Luke who tries to walk over to help Jace and slams his head on the table. You stand up and walk over to Aegon and pull his hair, yanking his head back. He releases Luke and only smiles up at you. You put him in the same position he had your brother in, slamming his head against the table and holding him down until guards come and step in between you two.
You remain standing at the chairs as the sides are made once more. You stand somewhat in the middle. Jace attempts to run back over to Aemond but Daemon steps in front of him.
"Go to your quarters. All of you go now." Your siblings and cousins leave but you remain still standing in your spot. You watch as Aemond and Daemon stare at each other silently. Aemond then turns to you and so does everyone else, he looks at you and then hums to himself as he walks out of the room.
"Come little rogue." Daemon puts his arm out for you. You take his arm, your mother pats your cheek and you follow him out of the room.
You sit in your mother and Daemon's chambers caring for young Aegon and Viserys along with a couple of maids.
Your mother walks in and takes a seat next to Daemon.
"I will see the boys home. Then I will return on dragonback." She holds Daemon's hand.
"Just the boys?" He asks looking over at you.
"Grandmother has asked me to return with her and Baela to Driftmark." He nods.
"Head to bed rogue." You nod and stand up walking over to your parents. You kiss your mother's cheek and place a hand on her stomach before walking past Daemon and pulling on the small ponytail in his hair softly and leaving the room.
Daemon watches as you leave with a smirk on his face and waits until the door is closed to speak.
"Did you see the way he looked at her?" Rhaenyra is taken aback by Daemon's tone. He stands up and paces.
"Who, my love?" She rubs her belly as she watches her children play.
"Aemond." He scowls. "He's been looking at her since we arrived as if he wants to take her where she stands. Which is impressive since the fucker only has one eye." he sits back down.
"They were once betrothed Daemon. Before that, they were closer than any of the kids. They spent all their free time together." She smirks at her husbands's protectiveness. It didn't take long for him to see you as one of his own daughters.
"We should discuss her future marriage. Maybe it's time we start looking for a husband for her." Rhaenyra nods.
"We will speak to her about it when she returns from Driftmark. Vaemond was right about one thing...she is being erased...I had not realized I was doing that." Daemon took her hand and placed the other on her bump.
"That fucker didn't know what he was talking about. You are a great mother to her, and she has had no complaints about her inheritance." She knows he's right.
"Nonetheless. If there is one thing I can give her is a choice. She will decide who she marries. I would feel better knowing it's a man of her own choosing."
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Your handmaids leave the room once you're finished being dressed for bed. You sit in front of your vanity staring at yourself.
When had you become someone you didn't recognize? When did you begin just walking the earth instead of living on it? When had you become so...lonely.
You walk over to the balcony and step outside. Pulling your robe tighter to your body against the cold air. You close your eyes and though you aren't sure who it is you are speaking to you beg them to help you. To bring you happiness and peace.
"Mandianna" You hear him from behind you. You turn around slowly and see him standing inside your room. You slowly walk in and close the balcony doors behind you, locking them.
"...Aemond..." You move to take another step to him but he raises a hand.
"For as long as I can remember you...Not a day has gone by when I haven't thought of you." You take a deep breath as he speaks. "And now that you're here...I'm in agony." He takes a step towards you. "The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you...I can't breathe." He stops in front of you a hand on your cheek. "I'm haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that that kiss will not become a scar." He lowers his head so he hovers just above your lips. "You are in my very soul, tormenting me...what can I do? I will do anything you ask."
You stare up into his eyes and feel drawn into them. You drown in them putting up no fight. Wanting to feel that darkness that has followed you all these years surround you.
"Kiss me." And he does and it is everything you've imagined. You give him full reign and kisses you with the same intensity that a drowning man comes up for air.
When he finally pulls away he admires your bruised lips and brushes the tears from your eyes.
"Aemond...I have grieved for what we could have been...so much time has passed. And our families have only grown farther apart." He kisses the side of your cheek.
"But what is grief if not love persevering?" He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you right against him as his eyes meet yours. "I have yet to meet another soul who is fluent in my language..but you? You are fluent in me." You place your hands on his chest. "Marry me. In the tradition of our ancestors. Let my blood become yours, and yours mine." You see the hope in his eyes.
"And what of our families?" They would never accept this." You try to pull away but he holds you tight against him.
"I refuse to sacrifice the one person who sees me for who I am for a family who barely sees me for the mask I wear." He leads you towards your bed and sits you down at the edge of it before sitting before you on his knees. "You are mine. You were always meant to be mine."
His hands trail up your legs as a smirk spreads over his face.
"Aemond. We can't." He pushes up your nightgown while kissing his way up your legs.
"I will not spoil you. I will only wish for a preview of what will be mine." He pushes your dress up all the way and pulls down your small clothes. He pulls your legs over his shoulder as he lowers himself in between your thighs.
He wastes no time drinking you up. His tongue tastes whatever he can, his nose brushing against your bud softly. His tongue stiffens inside of you as he finds that place his brother had told him about. It has you lying down covering your mouth.
"Ae-Aemond..." He moans against your cunt in pleasure at your moans of his name. "Please..." you're unsure of what it is you are begging for but whatever it is you know you need it.
He brings a finger to better rub your bud as he fucks you with his tongue. He can feel you clenching and watches as you're soon arching off of the bed holding on to his hair.
The feeling is unlike anything you've experienced. A large opposite from how dark you have been feeling. You feel lighter as if pent-up energy has been released.
He gives your bud one last kiss before walking away and returning with a wet cloth. He wipes his face first before gently cleaning you. When he's done you sit up and he sits next to you pulling you into his lap.
You feel how hard he is below you and move so your legs are wrapped around his torso. You grind down on him and he looks up at you holding on to your hips. The friction against your bud only builds back up that feeling in your stomach. You kiss Aemond as he continues to guide you so you're grinding down on him. He picks up speed his mouth agape.
Without saying anything you reach and pull the eye patch off of him. Aemond stops and looks away hiding his face. You place a hand on his cheek and turn him back to you.
"Gevie." You kiss his scar gently and admire the sapphire that replaces his eye. He returns to grinding you down on him lewd thoughts fuelling his actions. His breaths become louder and you even hear a gentle moan from him.
"Fuck~" you feel him stiffen beneath you. He presses his forehead against your chest pulling you flush against him.
"I will speak to my mother and even my father. If they say no. I will come for you and only then will I fuck you and mark my name into your wet cunt so that they will have no choice but to marry us."
He kisses you again. You taste yourself on his tongue.
"You say that as if the breaking of Princess' maidenheads has not been hidden before. They could easily give me to someone who would not care."
"To that...mandianna. I tell you that idiots are highly flammable...and we ride dragons..." He kisses your exposed chest.
"I say...let them burn."
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A/N: This was for the girls who dream of marrying a prince and end up falling for the misunderstood villain.
I have thought of doing another part or turning this into a mini-series at least. But for now, this is just a one-shot.
Shoutout to the Star Wars Anakin monologue that fueled me to write this anyway.
Taglist: @thought--bubble @valeskafics @dixie-elocin
943 notes · View notes
asonofpeter · 8 months
Text
Insanity
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Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader
Summary: Your lack of sleep makes it seem like you're going insane, then again, your boyfriend has an alien inside of him...maybe insanity makes sense.
Warnings: reader has emotional distress, description of skin and flesh? mentions of sleep deprivation and male genitals, SPOILERS FOR BLUE BEETLE! there's also some light SMUT but it will be labeled by 🦋 so you can skip if you want and must be 18+ to read!
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Second part? Umm hell yeah! I gotta go see this movie again cause I wanna see Jaime wink wink. Thank you for all of those who reblogged the last part! If the smut confuses you, be aware that I'm a whore and my page mainly consists of smut. Please make sure you're 18+ when reading and enjoy! 💕💕💕
I don't consent to my work being copied, reposted, or translated.
“Where could he have possibly gone?!” you ran your fingers over your hair, tears streaming down your face as Miliagro tried to comfort you. “What the hell was that thing?” you shook your head, dumbfounded.
You had been standing, staring up at the hole in the ceiling for the last few minutes, completely dumbfounded that your boyfriend was somewhere up there. You were in hysterics compared to the rest of the family.
“Amá is calling the police, I’m sure we’ll find him,” she rubbed your shoulder, tears streaming down her face too.
A few moments later, your heart rate spiked up the moment a loud crash was heard in the dining room, the already collapsed table now housing your fainted boyfriend who was completely naked.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, hand over your mouth as you ran over to aid him but he awoke abruptly, incoherent words escaping his lips. About to stop him from moving to prevent any injury, you felt your face heat up when he stood up.
“His huevitos!” Rudy shouted, the rest of the family’s breaths hitching before Rocio and Nana started reminiscing about Jaime’s childhood. 
You stepped forward, trying to give Jaime some concealment but he pushed passed you, entirely dazed until he crashed on the couch.
“Ten, tapaló,” Rocio handed you a blanket and you quickly covered him. That’s when you all realized what was on his back. 
“That is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen,” Millie gagged beside you and you frowned at the sight of the bug fused into his back.
~
You sat at Jaime’s head on the couch, Nana waving the vapor rub in front of his nose. You combed your fingers through his hair, the smell, and your touch slowly coaxing him awake. 
His eyes opened, body jolting in shock to see all of you sitting around him. “Where?” his brows were furrowed and he stared down at himself, realization growing on him and being confirmed by a peek under the blanket. “Oh god,” he gaped, shooting up from the couch and keeping the blanket wrapped around him.
“Jaime, wait,” everyone called out, following him but he shrugged everyone off, going into his room.
“Follow him and tell him,” Millie pushed you forward and you got the message as you managed to slide into his room before he slammed the door shut.
“Jaime,” you called out, a smile forming on your face when you saw his bare ass, unable to help yourself. “You need to know something,” you wrung your fingers together, staring at the glowing blue fusion on his back. 
“Hang on, Y/N, I can explain everything. It’s all fine, this is all normal,” he struggled to put clothes on, mainly muttering to himself. “It’s all good,” he laughed, shirt in his hand as he walked over to you, a humorless laugh escaping him as he grabbed your shoulders. “I missed you,” he inhaled before leaning in and kissing you.
You were taken aback by the sudden gesture, but welcomed it nonetheless when you recalled how worried you’ve been about him. 
“Jaime,” you said when he pulled away, licking your lips as you opened your mouth to continue. “Look in the mirror,” you exhaled just as he pulled his shirt over his head.
He paused, doing as you said, his eyes widening when he got a look before a scream left his mouth.
“Just breathe, okay?” you hurried towards him before he panicked even more. “We’re gonna find a way to fix this, okay?” you grabbed his shoulders and he seemed to calm down a bit before you engulfed him in a hug.
“We’re gonna fix it,” he repeated, arms slowly wrapping around you. “I need to find Jenny”.
~
“That’s Cesar to you!” Rudy shouted at Jenny after she became the reason the Taco was ruined. 
You were all sat around the table after Jaime had driven off to go find Jenny to explain everything. You weren’t too pleased he left so suddenly, worry still raking through you from the day’s earlier event. You kept your anger under wraps, thankful to Rudy for laying it on them. 
A few moments later after hearing Rudy cry about the damage done to his truck, he came back in, fury still bubbling in his words. 
“I can’t believe you did that to my truck, after everything,” he cried. “This is all your fault,” he pointed at Jenny. “First, you put a bug inside my nephew and now my truck?!” he screamed, shaking his head.
“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Jenny darted her gaze around the table and Jaime sighed. 
“He means this,” he said, turning around and pulling his shirt over his head so she could see the blue and purple bug glowing along his spine, his flesh pink in the areas it fused to the creature.
“Oh my god,” the family shouted, Milagro gaging at the sight. You on the other hand had grown a quick immunity to the sight, your face straight as you stared at it.
“I’ve seen worse,” you and Rudy said at the same time and you shared a glance for a second before Millie butted in.
“Where?” she furrowed her brows. 
“You don’t want to know,” you said at the same time again, your gaze narrowing at him.
“What the hell is this thing?” Jaime pulled his shirt back down, leaning over the table between you and Jenny.
“It’s a scarab, given to my dad when I was a kid. It’s some type of world-destroying weapon,”  she shrugged, the sight of defeat written across her face aware that this news was not one taken well by the family.
“Great,” Jaime inhaled deeply, hands running through his hair as he walked into the kitchen.
“So did you know this was going to happen when you handed it to my brother?” Millie asked, shooting daggers at Jenny. 
“No! I swear I didn’t. The scarab isn’t activated by any person, it chooses you,” Jenny elaborated. “So that means it chose you,” she turned to Jaime, a look of disbelief on his face.
You were sitting silently beside everyone, arms crossed over your chest as you took in the information you were given. Emotions trickled through you, you were sure you’d experienced all of them at least once today, but hearing the words come out of her mouth, you couldn’t help but crack your stoic face and double over in laughter.
“That is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, you’re joking,” you managed between laughs, the family sparing glances at each other and Jaime placed a hand on your shoulder to check on you.
“Ignore her, she hasn’t slept since yesterday. Night shift,” Millie excused you.
“Are you sure she didn’t get the alien inside her? Seems like she’s going insane,” Rudy butted in, twirling his finger by his temple to say “cookoo”. 
“Ay, Rudy,” Rocio waved him off. “As you can see she’s a little out of it from the lack of sleep”.
At her statement, the laughing stopped and you straightened up, composing yourself with a clearing of your throat.
“I’m not out of it,” you defended. You were sure you slept a good hour this morning. “I’m just finding it a little hard to believe that there’s an alien inside my boyfriend’s body, bonding to him as we speak,” you exhaled. “It’s insane!”
“It’s okay,” Jaime reassured, his other hand coming up to massage your shoulder. “You said it chose me, so how do we make it unchose me?” he asked, turning back to Jenny who had a look of softness cross over her eyes as she stared at you two.
“I’m not sure. But if I can get access to the proper technology, we can figure out a way,” she claimed. “I just need a key. It’s located at Kord Industries though,” she said, face falling. 
“I have a way in,” Rudy said. “Come on, cabezon, we’re gonna get that thing outta you,” he pointed. 
“Okay, Jenny, Rudy, and I will go. You guys stay here,” Jaime said, mainly looking at you.
“Are you crazy? I’m going with you,” you shook your head, standing up to meet him.
“Y/N, you haven’t slept since yesterday. You should sleep,” he cupped your face.
“I’m not tired,” you pulled away from him. “You’re insane if you think I’m letting you go out on this without me,” you argued. “I don’t want to miss this,” you frowned. “You have god-knows-what inside you, I should be there,” you reaffirmed, glancing at the floor.
“She’s right, mijo,” Alberto sided with you and Jaime let out a defeated sigh. 
“Okay, let’s go,” he agreed.
~
The former Kord Estate was a magnificent abandoned haven. The secret passageway entering Jenny’s dad’s lab was insane and other-worldly. Nothing about this day made sense and you only hoped there was a cure so you could get on with your lives. 
After Jaime decided a better fit of clothes would be preferred, you followed him and Jenny upstairs. You were both shown into an empty bedroom, presumably a spare one seeing as it had no personal touches added to it. 
You were staring out the window while Jaime was in the bathroom when Jenny came back with a blue tracksuit be she left, a kind smile on her face as she departed. The door shut behind her as Jaime walked from the bathroom.
“I have accelerated healing,” he brushed his fingers over his cheek and you sent him a puzzled look. “Look,” he walked closer to you to show you his perfectly unbroken skin that was red and cut only a few moments ago.
“Hmm,” you hummed. “This is still too insane to believe,” you pressed a hand to your forehead, shaking out a laugh and your boyfriend smiled before pulling you in for a hug. “Does it hurt?” you asked, referring to the scarab.
“Not really,” he shrugged before he pulled off the muscle tee, leaving him shirtless in front of you. “It looks bad, but to be honest, it feels,” he paused for a second. “Normal”.
“That’s something then,” you wrung your fingers together, trying to sound as supportive as you could.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay, alright? We’re going to get it out of me,” he rubbed your arms reassuringly and you sighed. “I love you, you know that?” he rubbed his thumb along your cheek and you nodded. 
“I love you too,” you recited. “It’s weird,” you added, glancing around the room. “The silence,” you tilted your head, able to hear nothing. “I’m now realizing I haven’t had a moment alone with you since you got back,” you chewed on your lip, cheeks heating up.
“I mean, we’re alone right now,” he suggested, a knowing look washing over his face.
“I want to savor it,” you nodded, staring into his beautiful brown eyes.
“You can do whatever you want, mi amor,” he traced patterns on your hip with his thumb. 
“I really do need the distraction,” you licked your lips, gaze falling to his lips. 
“Same here,” he swallowed. 
“I think we have time,” you added, hands coming up to wrap around his neck softly. 
“We definitely do,” he agreed, one of his hands sliding underneath your shirt. 
🦋
With that, you both leaned in, pressing your lips together in a soft gentle kiss, one filled with desperation but screamed all the reassurance you both needed.
You ran your fingers through his hair, his hand squeezing your hip as he pulled you closer.
Living with five other people in a small house wasn’t as fun as it usually was. You shared a room with your boyfriend’s sister, your boyfriend was in another city for four years previously, and now that he was back, your schedules never coincided with your night shift. To keep things quick, you and your boyfriend rarely have sex.
His hands ran over your back, one hand finding its place on your waist while the other snaked up to cup your jaw. Your moans vibrated against each other as you pressed your bodies together, closer than before.
You pulled away, guiding Jaime to sit on the closest chair before you straddled his lap. Your kiss resumed as his hands glided over your ass and under your thighs while you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on his curls. 
He made a move to take off your shirt and you followed through, leaving you in your bra until you got up quickly to shimmy your sweatpants off. 
“Fuck,” Jaime threw his head against the chair, frustration laced in his tone. 
“What?” you frowned, pausing in your movements. “Did you?” you led on, gaze dropping to his crotch. “It’s okay if-,” you shrugged, disappointment in your voice but his eyes shot open. 
“No! Not that,” his cheeks tinted with pink. “We don’t have a condom,” he explained, and you tilted your head up in realization. 
“Oh,” you said. “Well shit,” you exhaled. “So much for a distraction,” you bent down to pull your pants back up before you sat back in his lap, head resting against his shoulder. 
“Soon, baby, soon,” he mumbled into your hair as he placed a kiss.
🦋
You smiled, reaching up for a kiss before a knock on the door was interrupted. 
“It’s Rudy, I’m not coming in cause of last time, but we need y’all downstairs,” he shouted through the door and you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the thought of last time.
“We should go,” Jaime said once you heard Rudy’s steps fade away. 
You agreed, getting up to move and letting him change before you opened the door. Your boyfriend stopped you though, hand wrapped around your wrist, you glanced at him expectedly.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said and you grinned.
“Me too”. 
~
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arcanefox207 · 1 month
Text
The Wolf You Feed (Part 1)
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 8k
Part 1 / ? (Ongoing Series)
Summary: Set in fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). This chapter includes smut with fingering and cum eating. Dominant Joel. Eventual Angst. Drinking Alcohol. Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. 
Chapter Excerpt: He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you.
A/N: Please hang in there. This chapter has a lot of setup and is a bit of a slow burn. Its also my first fic and I am pouring my heart and soul into it.
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N
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“Remember, if you need anything you can ask Joel. He knows his way around the house” your mother reminds you. 
“Thanks, I will be fine but I’ll keep that in mind.” You appease her but have no intention of bothering her neighbor.
“Love you, honey. Talk later!”
“Bye mom. Love you.” You end the call and slump back against the couch. This was going to be your home for the next few months. Your parents had gone south to avoid the brutal New England winter and had offered their summer vacation home in Kineo to you in the interim. No rent and plenty of free time to figure out what to do with your life next. All you had to do was pay the utilities and keep an eye on things.
The offer was genuine but also came from a place of concern. You had spent the last few years living a more-or-less nomadic life and poorly indulging your dreams of adventure. Your bachelors degree in Liberal Arts proving to be as useless as everyone told you it would be. It got you jobs easy enough but nothing that felt like a long term career. It all felt directionless but you also had been hell bent on proving everyone else wrong and keeping up the appearance that you were doing just fine. 
Your past relationships were nothing too exciting either. Months of casually dating someone and it not really going anywhere or random hookups that you regretted the next day. One or two guys you were getting serious with but ultimately scared you off when they started talking about a family in their big picture. You were starting to get cynical about any compatible prospects.
You are only 29 and wonder if a midlife crisis before your 30’s is normal. At least, that is what it felt like was happening. You had been treading water for too long and felt like you were too tired to keep swimming.
Your mother finally wore you down enough when your lease was up at your Boston apartment and you had no real obligations. You hated your current job, your roommates were little more than acquaintances and the busy city life scene was starting to lose its charm especially when it was astronomically expensive to live there. It was getting harder to say no so you agreed to her offer. 
You had to admit living in the country sounded like a nice change. You had a few months to figure stuff out and the thought of something new was exciting to you. Even if it meant continuing to endure the bitter winter, you had a chance to start fresh somewhere new. Something different. 
You didn’t grow up here and spent most of your life living in suburban homes with slightly warmer climates. Your parents had bought a small one bedroom vacation home in a sleepy New England town that they mostly only enjoyed in the prime summer months. The home sat mostly vacant otherwise. They would rent it out for weeks at a time but in the winter months no one from away wanted to go there. Too far from ski resorts and civilization to be of interest to a casual vacationer. It had a lake that drew much attention from outsiders only when it wasn’t frozen. The town was reduced to just the year-round locals in the coldest months.
Your new residence was outside the main populous of Kineo and nearby the lake. In fact, you could see the lake peeking through the thick pine trees out the front window if you looked hard enough. 
The closest and only neighbor in sight was the handyman your parents raved about across the street. He kept an eye on the place while they were away. You had never interacted with him on your occasional summer visits, but knew he had been kind to your folks and heard about him often enough. You occasionally saw him out in his yard from afar and he would give a lazy wave to your parents in passing. You never really got a good look at him up close but from what you could see he looked rugged and fit and always wore jeans and work boots. He had a modest waterfront cabin across the street and seemed to keep to himself.
You had arrived just a few days ago and already had a job lined up at the local coffee shop, Grind. You were getting your caffeine fix and saw a help wanted sign in their window and you had no trouble securing the job when you chatted with the owner. She hired you on the spot and seemed desperate but grateful that you actually had enthusiasm for coffee and knew your Americanos from your Lattes. Grind Coffee House was on the main drag along with some other quaint shops. It was charming enough and an easy 10 minute drive from your house. The pay was pitiful but would be enough to get by. Things seemed to be lining up perfectly.
You went to bed early that night and felt optimistic that this was going to be good for you. This was going to be the reset that you craved. A new adventure. It was like nothing you had experienced before and maybe that was exactly what you needed.
Shit. Your first day working at Grind and you can’t even get the car to start. 
It was freezing cold. The kind of cold that hurts when it touches your exposed skin. You turn the key in the ignition again and the engine makes a pathetic attempt to turn over. Nothing. Fuck. 
You turn the key again. Nothing. Fuck fuck fuck. You pull out your phone and realize you have no idea what to do other than call your new boss and make a horrible first impression. No, that wasn’t going to do. You look in the rearview mirror and see across the street that lights are on at your neighbors house, despite the early hour. As quickly as the thought crosses your mind you push it away. No. No way were you going to bother him at this hour. You hadn’t even officially met the guy yet.
You pull up Google on your phone and scan the first few results for “car won’t start” and narrow it down to engine troubles or dead battery. Either outcome is something you are not equipped to handle. 
A few moments pass and you reluctantly weigh the options. Would a garage even be open this early? How long would that take to get someone out there? You were wasting time and had to do something. You curse to yourself and go back inside the house.
You walk over to the fridge where a note is hanging front and center “Joel Miller” with a phone number neatly printed. Your mothers careful handwriting to contact the poor neighbor that she probably harasses all the time. You sigh and open your phone to dial the number.
It rings a few times, and then you hear a gravelly voice that catches you off guard. 
“Hello?” A deep and thick, unfamiliar accent answers. Not what you were expecting. 
“Hi, Mr. Miller.” a long pause and you stumble over your words. “I uh, I’m sorry to call you so early. I'm Rick and Linda’s daughter.” and mumble your name. Another pause. 
“Ah, right. Whatcha need, kid?” He asks with little expression in his tone. You can’t tell if he is annoyed or just sounded that way. 
“My car won’t start and I–” you pause, not too sure how to ask for help from a stranger. “I don’t know what to do...” Your voice trails off with uncertainty on how to ask for help or what you are even expecting. 
You hear a long exhale on the other end, like he is letting all the air out of his lungs while he is thinking on it. 
“Dead battery most likely… on a day like this. I’ll be right over.” He hangs up the phone before you can say another word and instead say thank you out loud to yourself and let your voice trail off. You instantly regret making the call.
You zip up your coat, pull your knit hat snug over your ears and head back outside when you see a black Ford pickup truck ease into your driveway. A tall man wearing a brown suede jacket approaches. The morning light is faint but you can make out that he is much older and has some silver streaking his hair and beard. He looks weathered and rugged but also has a warmness about him that is hard to reconcile with his rough exterior.     
“Joel Miller, I presume?” you nervously laugh and awkwardly introduce yourself for the second time. You attempt to be extra friendly and maybe penetrate his bristly wall. It seems to help when he notices you are a young woman and not some bratty teenager that your parents probably made you out to be. He takes a step forward and reaches a hand out towards you, nodding. He firmly shakes your hand and you are taken aback by how his grasp seems to engulf you.
“Pleasure to meet you, darling.” His voice is smooth and polite and has the tiniest hint of playfulness in his tone. You can’t place his accent, but you know it isn’t from around here and only someone from away would say ‘Darling’ so casually to a stranger. 
His dark brown eyes hold your gaze for a moment and he has the faintest smirk as he subtly scans your body. It sends goosebumps down your spine. You are grateful that you made an extra effort to look cute for your first day of work. You realize your hands are still embraced and nervously laugh as you pull away. He gets right down to business, but not before stealing another peek of your body when he thinks you aren’t looking.  
“Lets see what we got here.'' He climbs into the driver's seat and in no time confirms it's the battery when he hears your car's engine protest. He walks over to his tailgate and brings back some jumper cables. 
You stand there with your arms wrapped around your body trying to hold in as much warmth as possible. Your bare hands clenched in a fist and tucked in as far as they could in your jacket sleeve to shelter from the cold. Your teeth chattering as you try to stand out of the way but want to be nearby too. At least give the illusion you can be helpful if he needs something. You regret your first meeting being a clueless damsel in distress, but maybe he liked that sort of thing. His tune did seem to change once he saw you. 
Joel returns and leans over the edge of the seat leaving the door wide open, his large palm dragging up slowly from the floor to the steering column, searching for the hood release. His finger catches on the button and he pops the hood. It’s hard not to stare at him while he slides his expert hands with reckless abandon.
His eyes find yours and the corner of his mouth raises slightly. You question if you are mistaking his caught you watching me look for more than what it was. He seems to enjoy you watching him work. He steps away from the seat and pulls a pair of work gloves from his back pocket as he works to connect your car to his truck with the jumper cables. He starts his truck back up and approaches you. Your breath and his making little frozen clouds as you exhale. 
“You can sit in my truck if you want, it’s plenty warm in there.” He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “This will just be a minute.” You thank him and take him up on his offer and climb into his passenger seat. He has a classical rock station playing on the radio. A thermos sitting in the center console. You glance in the back seat and see some neatly organized tools and miscellaneous junk on the floor. It smells metallic and leathery. 
You outstretch your hands to the vents that are pouring warm air into the cabin and relish the heat.  
A few moments pass and you don’t see much of what’s going on with the hood of the truck blocking your view. You doom scroll on Instagram to keep yourself busy but your mind keeps thinking about Joel. You were in no way prepared for your neighbor to be so fucking handsome. It felt absurd to be so turned on by him.
He’s too old. You tell yourself. Don’t even think about it. 
Your thoughts are interrupted as the hood slams shut and Joel opens the driver's door. He reaches his arm out to grab his thermos while he climbs into the seat with a groan. The door shuts hard behind him and a blast of cold air invades your space briefly.  
“Damn cold one today” He says it with a huff as more of an observation than a complaint. He takes a sip of his coffee and looks over to you. You nod in agreement and find yourself caught up in what to say to him. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in his backseat. He rests his arm along the back of the seat and it is nearly touching your shoulder. The way his body takes up the space makes you feel small and helpless. Then, you remember you are small and helpless compared to him. He doesn’t feel threatening towards you but you certainly does give off the aura that he could be intense in the right circumstance. You find that undeniably attractive.
“Your folks called me last week. Told me you were gonna be staying here a while.” His eyes are back focused on you. “Meant to come over this weekend and introduce myself.” he seems a little nervous and takes another sip of his coffee. “Didn’t wanna bother you, though.” 
You feel a small smile start to grow on your face. The thought that he shared the same reservations brought comfort. Joel rests his thermos between his legs while still holding it with one hand. He looks like he is hesitating to say something but does it anyway. He looks over at you with tender eyes, 
“Didn’t expect.. You know...” He makes an unreadable expression as he is searching for the words and scans your body up and down. “Someone like you.” You were not entirely sure what he meant by that, but his smoldered stare on your body made you feel hot inside and your cheeks flush. He looked at you with intrigue and it made you feel good. It made you feel wanted. It had been too long since you felt that way.  
In fact, it has been too long since you had any sort of relationship. Even a casual lay.  
“You really saved my ass this morning. Thank you.” You pause and feel yourself giving a sultry gaze back at him. “I owe you one.” Joel makes a no big deal gesture with his hand and a cocky smile as he chews the inside of his cheek. In that brief moment you feel something between the two of you. The desire to flirt; tempt a man with at least 20 years on you. An unexpected but undeniable magnetic pull. A curiosity to learn what lies beneath. A forbidden fruit that is ripe and beckoning for you to take a bite. Something different. Something exciting. Something you know you should stifle before it even begins.  
His eyes reflect the same sentiment but also harbor concern and restraint. It’s a bad idea. The brief silence between you looms loudly. The elephant in the room. 
“Where ya’ off to so early anyways?” he asks, eager to change the subject. He takes another sip of his coffee while you reply.
“Oh, first day working at Grind. You know it?” Joel's demeanor changes in a subtle way that you may not have seen if you weren’t so focused on trying to read him.  
“Oh. Yeah..” he chides and looks down, pensive in thought as he brings his hand to the back of his neck and rakes it through his hair. “I know the place.” He glances back up and avoids eye contact. The bite in his voice does not go unnoticed, but you don’t pry. 
An uncomfortable subject; noted.   
“Better coffee than this I reckon” he says as he places his thermos back in the center console. He attempts to lighten the tone and then glances at his watch.
“I gotta get to work, sweetheart. Keep your car runnin’ for a bit and you should be all set. Probably get that battery replaced.” His tone is more serious now, more business-like. You realize you had been waiting in his truck longer than necessary. You really have to get to work anyways. 
You thank him again and return to your car. He waits for you to get in and raises his fingers off his steering wheel in a lazy wave to signal he was leaving. He backs out of your driveway and heads down the road towards town.
You take a deep breath and adjust the knobs in your car. Joel had put everything on high heat and full blast for you and your car was now unbearably toasty. You tune your radio and ease into the road and on your way to work. 
All the while your mind can’t stop thinking about your charming, handyman neighbor. 
So that's Joel Miller. You smile to yourself and faintly feel butterflies in your stomach. Anxious thoughts that excite and frighten you.  
It took Marlene all of five minutes to become your new work bestie. She was efficient and smart and knew her way around the place. She was the only one working when you arrived and despite the line of customers she was friendly and teased you for arriving late on your first day. 
Marlene had great rapport with everyone. It was apparent that the customers were all regulars and she wasted no time introducing you to them. She had a somewhat forward style but it was well received because she knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t waste time being flowery and over the top. It reminded you of the brashness of Boston.
After the morning rush things were relatively calm. You had time to chat and get to know her a little more while she was showing you the ropes. It wasn’t complicated and you were a quick study.
By mid afternoon it was time to close up shop. The hours were a perk. You were scheduled to work weekdays from open till close and would have to occasionally help out on Saturdays. Marlene worked the same shift and the weekends were mostly covered by high schoolers. 
It was just after 2 o’clock when the owner, Tess, stopped by. 
“How did it go?” she asks you both as she takes a seat and rests her bag on the counter. Marlene had no intention of telling her you were late and talked you up, pleased with your presence. Tess had a few other properties she owned so her time at the coffee shop was only as needed and Marlene you learnt was more or less the one who ran things day to day. 
You recap the day and thank her again for the job. You did genuinely enjoy the work. It was easy. Simple and straightforward. You got to know lots of town folk and everyone was curious and interested in meeting the new girl in town.
Tess seemed pleased enough and was quick to head out. She was friendly but brief and gave the impression she had other responsibilities that demanded her attention. She joins you behind the counter briefly and pours herself a black hot coffee in a to-go cup. Another perk of the job was indulging in all the free coffee. 
“Let me know if you guys need anything!” She says energetically as she collects her bag and heads out the door. She flips the sign to “closed” as she leaves. 
“Tess is cool. She doesn’t interfere too much and we only see her a few times a week, if that.” You nod to acknowledge Marlene. “Lets finish cleaning up and get out of here.”
It was nice leaving with the sun bright and warm. Winter meant shorter days, so getting out of work with a few hours of daylight felt luxurious. The bitter cold from the morning had made its departure. 
You had been so focused with work it wasn’t until you got back to your car that you allowed yourself to think about Joel again. You know you shouldn’t but can’t help feeling turned on at the thought of him. He was handsome in that brooding, mysterious way and he emanated competence. It was refreshing and welcomed. 
You decided to send him a text message. You had his number in your recent contacts after all and you were curious if he would play along. You were certain that there was something sparked between the two of you, but unsure if he would act on it. Unsure if there were too many obstacles between you.
You keep it simple and friendly.   
You: Thanks again for your help! 
Your car starts up with no issue and you head home. When you arrive you glance down to your phone to see a simple reply. 
Joel: Anytime
It was brief but you couldn’t help but read it with that low, southern drawl. His voice was so distinct. Polite but stern. You add him as a contact in your phone and wonder if he did the same. 
You take a shower, make some dinner and get comfortable in your bed. It’s early and you watch some TV when you hear your phone chime. You glance at your phone and see Joel Miller has you on his mind as he revives the conversation with you. 
Joel: So how did it go? 
You smile and recount this feeling like you were a teenager talking to your crush. You want to gush about your first day but you play it cool and brief. 
You: Went good, I think I’ll like it there
A few minutes pass. Against your better judgment you start to go into details but delete it before you hit send. You recalled his strange reaction earlier when you brought up Grind. This man has you second guessing yourself and you don’t want to blow it before it even begins. He replies instead before you elaborate.
Joel: Glad to hear. Thought you would. 
You: I’m exhausted though, getting to bed
You decide to be playful and see how he reacts. 
You: Goodnight, Mr. Miller.  
Joel: Just Joel. 
Joel: Goodnight darling
Darling. Even if it was just a typical Southern phrase it made you wild. It was uncommon to hear in the north and felt so endearing and warm. The knots in your stomach return as you struggle to fall asleep. Your mind is too excited to see where things go from here. You knew he was interested in you enough to keep talking. It would have been easy for him to end the conversation there and keep things formal and neighborly. 
Your mind wanders thinking about how truly handsome he is. How badly you want his manly, rough hands on your body. How his voice makes you melt. How his domineering  presence makes you tingle in your core. You feel yourself starting to get wet just at the thought of his body and what you wanted to do to it. What you wanted him to do to you. Sinful thoughts.
You slide your hand between your legs and feel yourself already wet and wanting. Your delicate fingers tease circles over your clit and it doesn’t take long before you get off. You feel ashamed to be lusting over an old man you barely know, but nevertheless wish it was Joel’s rough hands on you.   
You wonder if he is doing the same thing and sharing the same thoughts about you.
A few uneventful days go by and now it’s Friday. You haven’t seen much of Joel other than his truck occasionally driving off, but he had been stuck on your mind all week. Lonely nights accompanied by dirty thoughts of Joel that only fueled your yearning to get closer to him. Your inhibitions regarding age and disapproval of your parents were blinded by your building desire. It still weighed on you though. Your parents would be appalled and probably disown you if they knew. It would just be another tick on the disappointment list.   
Work is busy and the day flies by. Just a few hours to go. You are taking a break, sitting at one of the tables by the front window and snacking on a blueberry scone. You reason with yourself that tonight is as good as any to try to make something happen. 
You: You doing anything tonight?
An agonizing hour passes and no reply. Your message is on read. Marlene takes notice of your change in demeanor. When things finally slow down and its just the two of you waiting around to close up she presses you.
“So.. whats going on? You look distant.” 
“Just trying to… make friends here.” You pause. “A friend in particular.” Your voice trails off. Marlene catches on quick and she had suspected you were starting to fall for someone. 
“Anyone I know?” Marlene knows everyone. You don’t want her judgment on the matter so you keep it vague.
“My neighbor. He doesn’t seem the type to come to a place like this though.” Your phone chimes and you try to play down your excitement as you look down and see it’s from Joel. You can barely contain a smile. 
Joel: Just got done a job. No plans
Marlene searches your face and rolls her eyes.  
“Just go over then. Easy enough.” she was right. 
“Yeah, I think I will.” 
The rest of the shift goes by quickly and you are both out the door by 3 o’clock.
You sit in your car and decide to just call him already. You were craving to hear his voice again and you wanted to put him on the spot. He answers quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Joel. I still owe you, you know for helping me out earlier.” Joel sighs in defeat. 
“I see you aint lettin’ that go. What did ya have in mind?” 
“Can I come over tonight? I’ll bring over drinks.” Your offer was more forward than you intended, but you went with it.
“Yeah, ok. Sounds good.” He pauses and has a counter offer for you. “Come over for dinner first?” You melt at the thought and realize you haven’t responded and there is a silence while you are getting lost in your thoughts. “Grilling steaks. Nothin’ fancy.”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” You can feel your smile spilling into the phone. That sounds more than good. It sounds really fucking good.  
“Alright. Come over ‘round 7.” 
“Ok. See you tonight.” You end the call and take a deep breath. Your heart is beating out of your chest in excitement. 
Getting ready for the night you attempted a relaxed look. You wanted to look nice, but approachable. You had some worn jeans that tucked neatly into your Bean boots. A button down flannel that you left undone over an intentionally low cut, fitted shirt. It accented your chest just right. You wore your hair down and went light on the makeup. You threw on a light leather jacket and grabbed the six pack of beer as you head across the street. 
Joel opens the door and leans in the doorframe with a casual figure, taking you in while he bites his lip,
“Evening' sweetheart” He steps back and holds the door open for you and gestures to come in. He was definitely a gentleman. You normally are not a fan of the pet names, but he worked them into his vocabulary so smoothly it was welcomed. 
You step inside and turn around, holding up the six pack of beer.
“Sam Adams. That ok?” He shuts the door and nods in approval. “Figured I’d bring some Boston culture over.” You step further inside. His kitchen is just off the main entrance and has an island with some bar stools at it. You make your way over and take a seat and rest the case on the countertop. 
Your eyes scan the room. His kitchen is tidy, save the spot where he prepped the steaks. You see an empty whiskey glass. Evidence that he had at least one stiff drink before you came over. You panic a little and regret not doing the same.  
“That where you lived before this?” He interrupts your thought as he stands across you at the island. His crossed forearms holding him up as he leans towards you with intrigue. He is dressed plainly in a pair of worn jeans and a plain navy blue t-shirt that hugs his arms just right. His biceps bulge as he is leaning forward and your mind is now preoccupied with just how broad his shoulders are. You almost forgot he asked you a question.
“Yeah, for a few years anyways.” You briefly recount, distracted when Joel takes a beer bottle from the case and effortlessly pops the cap with his large, calloused hands. A satisfying hiss escapes the bottle followed by a clink as the cap falls to the countertop. He slides it over to you and repeats the motion again for himself.
“Oh, wow.” you say out loud, without realizing it. Joel has that cocky side smirk again, well aware of his impressive party trick. He holds the bottle up and towards you and you do the same, clanking bottle necks together and taking a sip. Your eyes are locked on each other for a moment; trying to read each other's intentions.  
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna put the steaks on.” he gestures his head to the back door that leads onto the deck. He grabs his suede jacket off the back of a chair and walks towards the back entrance. You trail behind and this was the first time you really noticed just how beautiful his home was. 
His open living room and kitchen had a vaulted ceiling with massive windows lining the whole back side of the cabin. It faced the lake and you could imagine how serene it would be to watch the sunrise. The cedar walls and flooring made it feel cozy and inviting. There was a large wood stove in the center of the living room and an open loft above the back of the living room. The deck seemed to wrap along a good part of the home. 
“Your home is beautiful.” It had looked so much more discrete from the road; tucked behind some pines and a long driveway. The backyard was a short distance to the lake and sloped slightly down to a dock. Joel probably had a boat parked there in the summer. The cabin was perched perfectly with a breathtaking view; isolated and private from the world.
“Thank you. I built it myself. Me and my brother Tommy.” 
“Thats… impressive.” 
“Eh, just comes with being a contractor. Made more sense to build my own place the way I wanted.” There it was again, that feeling in your core that excites you. Joel likes to be in control, and he has the skill set to back it up making it all the more alluring. 
Its a cool night, but not uncomfortably cold to be outside for a few minutes with a jacket. In fact, you are grateful to have the crisp air to help ground you and calm you down. It was embarrassing how easily Joel could work you up. You lean over the railing and gaze out over the lake while he tends to the grill for a moment and then joins you at the railing.
“I spent a few years there myself. Boston.” This was news to you, but you were still curious about his Southern accent. 
“And… before?” 
“Texas.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Most my life.” You smile and give a slight laugh. 
“Well, that certainly explains things. You don’t exactly sound like a New Englander” you tease him. Joel laughs and looks a little distant. Something you have come to realize about Joel is that he has a lot on his mind he doesn’t say out loud. His mysterious demeanor was something you found as attractive as it was frustrating. 
“You like it here so far?” He asks.
“I do. Its simple and peaceful. Life is easy here.” you realize while saying this out loud that you mean it. You really are enjoying your time in Kineo more than you ever had expected. “And… my neighbor isn’t so bad.” You tease. Joel rolls his eyes and returns to the grill, pulling the steaks off.
“Mine is a pain in the ass.” He jokes as he closes the grill. He wasn’t wrong. You were persistent if anything. 
Dinner is laid back and enjoyable. He has a small dining room table but you choose to sit next to each other at the island drinking your Sam Adams and enjoying your ribeye steaks. Joel cooked them to perfection. You stay seated long after you are done eating, getting carried away with conversation. Your bodies are facing each other and knees knocking into his as you get animated with your storytelling. 
Joel mostly listens while you ramble on. The more you drink the lower your inhibitions get. You are a lightweight to begin with and it doesn’t take much. You don’t even notice that he isn’t really listening to you anymore. His focus has left your well intended words and shifted to your body. He’s looking at your low-cut shirt teasing him. The way you brush your hair out of your face when you laugh. How your neck looks so inviting when you tilt your head back to take a sip of beer, You don’t register that he is eyeing you crudely like you are a piece of meat. That he is fighting every urge inside him to just lose himself with you. 
He inches his hand along the countertop closer to yours until he is grazing your wrist with a light touch and dragging his fingers back across yours. It sends a shiver through your body as you become aware how he is looking at you and how painfully reserved his touch is. It is polite but intrusive. He watches how it makes you feel. How you start to come undone. 
Your pent up feelings are starting to overwhelm you and you excuse yourself reluctantly. Your heart starts to race and you wonder if he can hear it beating. 
You get up and bring your plate over to the sink to wash it. It is a distraction more than anything while you gather yourself. Joel watches you from behind for a moment. You can feel his gaze burning into you and brace yourself against the counter. You like the way it feels. The way he makes you feel wanted. 
That loud silence returns. The air in the room feels heavy. He joins you at the sink and you can feel his heat envelop you as he approaches you from behind. His broad body boxes you in and makes you feel small and vulnerable. 
Joel takes his hands and dances his fingers down your arms lightly. His touch starts a fire inside you and you crave a heavier hold. You need him like you need air in your lungs. He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you. 
He agonizingly slides his hands down to your hips and turns you to face him. He pushes your body gently against the countertop and moves one of his hands up to caress your face. He presses his hips into you and holds your chin gently between his thumb and finger. He stares down at you with a thirst in his eyes. He narrows his focus to try to get a reading on you. Your mouths are just inches apart. There is a hunger he is resisting but the wolf inside is slowly starting to win over reason. 
“I want this, Joel.” You stare up at him and make sure he can see the desire in your eyes and that you are serious. You want to remove any hesitations he has on your account. You try to rock your hips into him but he has you pinned. He can feel your needy attempt.  
“We shouldn’t…” Joel pleads, but his words are empty and not speaking the same language as his body. 
Your age, your parents, your unfamiliarity with one another all should be reason enough to quelch this flame, but it just makes you want it that much more. He has wanted you since he first laid eyes on you that morning he came to your rescue. He wants to be respectful but fails, instead teasing you with how much he wants you. The hesitance is an illusion that he has kept up until that moment. Your body is trapped against his and he is looking at you like you are prey in his clutches. You had suspected and even hoped that Joel was a dominant lover with how confident he carried himself.   
You seize the opportunity to show him just what he is doing to you. 
You push your tongue into him and taste him; sweet and malty. His warm and wet mouth is inviting and intense. All reluctancy fades away as he gives in to you and takes control with his tongue. You can feel his cock is hard and straining against his jeans as he rocks into you. Your arms hang around his neck and tangle into his hair as you grind against each other. The friction of both your bodies sending each other into a frenzy.
He drags his mouth away, biting at your lower lip as he moves along your jawline to the soft skin at your neck. You stretch your head back giving him full access to your bare neck as he nips at you hungrily. His scruffy beard rubs roughly against your supple skin and feels so good. One hand roams up your shirt while his mouth traces lower and lower down to your collarbone. He thumbs and circles over your nipple. He can feel it harden through your bra and engulfs your breast with his large hand. His touch is brazen but you welcome it. You can feel just how badly he wants to devour you and it makes you moan.   
He slides his expert hand from your breast and drags it down to your jeans. He unbuttons them hastily with force and works his hand slowly inside. Your underwear is already wet from your arousal. He pulls his mouth away from you and has a devilish grin as he grabs at your pussy and narrows his eyes on you.
“You’re so wet for me.” He says breathlessly with anticipation while he has you in his grasp. 
He slides his hand inside your waistband and teases your clit as his hand slides against you. You want to reply to him but your words are trapped beneath the moans caught in your throat. He brings a finger to your opening and slowly pushes the tip inside you. The pressure from his large, calloused fingers makes you buck into him. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly teases your entrance with his finger. He takes it slow and when he thinks you are ready he slips another one inside.
You can feel your walls clench around his obscenely thick fingers and he pushes deeper. Twisting and playing at your entrance and thrusting in. Your hips writhe in his grasp. While one hand is busy with your cunt the other has an iron grip on the back of your neck. His mouth messily returns to the soft skin above your collarbone and into the crook of your neck. You are completely at his mercy and can’t imagine any other place you’d want to be. 
You are so tight but he stretches you open artfully. Moans escape your lips as you gasp when his fingers dip further into you, reaching that perfect part deep inside. 
“Come for me.” He pants into you with a snarl as you convulse on him.  
He doesn’t let up and fucks you relentlessly with his fingers until you are coming and moaning his name. Incoherent expletives escape you while you soak him.   
You ride the wave of pleasure for as long as you can. It has been too long since you had fucked around with someone. However, no one had ever so masterfully gotten you off with just their fingers. The way he handled your body and worshiped you with his mouth was intoxicating. 
As you come down from your high he slides his wet fingers from inside you and pulls his mouth away with a final ravenous kiss on your swollen lips. He places a kiss on top of your head and pulls you in close for an embrace. The hard protrusion against your body makes itself painfully known.   
Joel presses his forehead against yours as he works to unzip his jeans and free himself. His fingers are wet with your slick. He smirks at you as his hand glides over his swollen cock and rubs your wetness all over his length. His breathing shallows as he strokes himself with one hand and braces his body on the countertop with the other. His swollen head grazes your belly with each thrust into his fist. 
You watch him wantonly as he palms himself with more vigor. Joel’s cock is thick and intimidating, but you crave it in the worst way. It is by far the largest you have ever seen. It glistens in your slick and the precum that was beading at the head. A desire builds inside you and you yearn for more of Joel. Want him in your hands, your mouth, your cunt.  
“Let me, please?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper. His hand slows and comes to a stop. He stretches out his arms to hold him up against the counter as he hovers above you and lets you take over. 
You reach out and grab on to him. You marvel at its size and how weighty it feels in your hands as you start to rub them up and down. His skin is hot and velvety smooth and pulled tightly. Your pace is much slower but more precise. You feel the veins bulge under your grasp as your fingers glide up and down his length.  
A moan hitches in his throat as you rub your thumb over his sensitive tip. You do it again and again. Teasing Joel Miller feels dangerous. You can feel how ragged he is and how close he is to coming. You want to make him come undone.  
“God, damn it.” Joel grunts under his breath. He peels back your hand and painfully pulls it off of him. His cock twitches at the loss of your touch. He stands up straight and towers over you as you shrink back.  
“Get on your knees.” He commands with his hand firmly on your wrist as he pulls your face closer to his. It sends a shiver through your body and you oblige. Any warmth in his eyes has been lost and he is staring at you; dark and menacing. He throws your wrist away and grips his hand along the side of your neck. His touch is rough and urgent. His fingers snake around to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to him while you drop down. They twist into your hair and he has a hold on the back of your head. It doesn’t hurt, but his grasp is firm and might if you tried to fight it.  
He takes his cock back in his grasp with his other hand and pumps it. His movements are jerky and his breathing is labored. You can tell he is so close. He roughly pulls your head back by your hair to look up at him.
“You gonna’ finish what you started?” he asks with darkened eyes. “Then open up.” He commands you through clenched teeth. 
You respond with an uncontainable smirk. You part your mouth slowly and let your tongue hang out, never taking your eyes off his. You sit back onto your knees so that you are slightly under him and wait patiently. He widens his stance. His hand slides to the top of your head and tangles in your hair. You can feel him slowly starting to lose control and come undone before you while he strokes himself. You brace yourself, hooking your fingers into the back of his thighs and clawing at his jeans. You can smell his sex and feel his heat but he holds you just out of reach and makes you wait while your thirst grows. 
Finally he taps the head of his weighty cock against your tongue and you lick at his slit, sending him over the edge. He groans as his thick spend coats your tongue and drips messily onto your chin. You close your mouth around him as he begins to stall out and swallow, pulling the final drops of cum from him while you choke his cock with your mouth. 
“Good girl.” He rasps at you. “So fucking good.” His grip on you loosens and he tenderly drags his hand along your jawline. You relax your mouth and let him slide himself out. He groans when your tongue licks the underside of him as he pulls out. 
He thumbs over some of his mess that falls out of your mouth and curls his thumb over your bottom lip. You lick him clean and he moves to hold your face in his hands while you look up at him.
“My good girl.” His words shoot straight to your core and make you weak. He brushes your hair behind your ear and helps you up. He places another kiss on your head and wraps his arms around you. His hot and heavy body feels so good against yours. You tilt your head up and press your mouth into him one more time.
“Are we even now?” you joke. Joel smiles. Everything about him feels warmer. He peels himself away from you and steps back, leaning against the island. You adjust your clothes and zip yourself back up while he does the same.
“Actually… think I might owe you now.” Joel says with a playful tone. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and shakes his head at you like he can’t believe his predicament. You like the idea of Joel owing you. 
You don’t spend the night. He offers to walk you home but you opt to go alone. It felt good to get some fresh air, to clear your head and recap the night. You also wanted to leave him wanting more.
You weren’t sure what would come from this situation with Joel, but you knew you barely scratched the surface with him. He was rough around the edges but you liked that about him. You liked that a lot. 
END CHAPTER
(Part 2!)
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A/N: More to come! Undecided how many chapters but I have quite a bit mapped out. Please be kind. This is my first fic and it is nerve wrecking to post! If you loved it, PLEASE let me know. I'd love to know your thoughts so far! What did you like? What do you want more of? How much angst can your heart take? I aim to test it in future chapters. Comments/Reblogs are appreciated so much. Thank you all
Also special thanks to @magpiepills for the lovely cover photo (and her mood board inspirations she helped with along the way!) and to both her and @legendary-pink-dot for reading my first draft and giving their feedback AND courage to post this.
If you wish to know when I post the next chapter, please follow @ArcaneFoxFics and turn on notifications!
If you are here for my gifs only and are like WTF I dont want to see this mature content... you can follow me over at @ArcaneFoxGifs which will ONLY be reposts of my gif sets.
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Love to my friends who give me the courage and support to do all the things @magpiepillsjunior @legendary-pink-dot @exquisiteserotonin @youandmeand5bucks @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo
447 notes · View notes
amongemeraldclouds · 2 months
Text
Things I’ll Never Say
Why say things out loud when you can write them all down in a journal? No need to inconvenience everyone else with silly declarations of love that’s only guaranteed to break your heart. So what happens when your enemy - of all people - finds it?
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Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader
“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”
Thanks to @thatdammchickennugget for the prompt. Here's my official entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt one. 1k words.
Author’s note: The way I screamed when this idea came to mind! Journaling is such a big part of my life, I’ll take any and every chance I can to incorporate it to my stories.
Indented text are journal entries.
Warning: Cursing, no use of y/n, slight angst but it’s kinda cute. Fluff express coming through!
✿ Masterlist
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“Stop copying my notes!” I hiss at Lorenzo, moving my arm to cover my parchment.
“Come on, I missed class today. I need to catch up,” he says, tugging at the arm of my sweater.
“Go ask your friends,” I retort, moving my arm away from his grasp.
“You know they’re not in that class, just you,” he insists.
“Oh we’re not friends,” I deadpan.
“It won’t take long,” he tries again.
“If you weren’t busy sleeping around with everyone, Berkshire. You would have made it to class this morning.”
 He leans in to my ear and whispers, “I’ll make it worth your while.”
I grab the nearest hardbound book and swing it in his direction. Thwack! It strikes his shoulder.
The librarian looks at us sternly. “Your final warning was just given five minutes ago. No noise in the library!” She points her finger to the exit, “You two, out!”
“Great. Thanks for that, Berkshire. Good luck with your notes.” My face gets hot with embarrassment as I gather my things and rush off to the exit.
Enzo spots a black leather bound journal in the area you just vacated. He takes it with him as he exits the library. She’s always writing in this notebook. I’m sure she won’t mind if I take a peek, I’ll give it back to her anyway.
He damn well knew you would mind. When he reaches a quiet corner of the hallway, he proceeds to turn the cover anyway.
I know, I know. I’m not supposed to like Lorenzo Berkshire. Why the fuck did I just draw a heart over the “i”! That’s it. I’m losing my mind! I can’t be caught liking the boy who spewed the word mudblood in my direction our first year. Like it’s my fault I was born into my family. And screw him okay, muggles are awesome. I can break my own heart with my misguided affections, but I’d rather die before I ever let him break my heart. So before I check myself into a mental asylum, I need to just say this somewhere. Anywhere. A last ditch effort to save my sanity.
He’s the intrusive thought I love to entertain in my head.
As a dare, he took off his shirt at the party. My toes curled. I pretended not to notice him.
I heard him laughing with his friends. I love the way it lit up his face.
I saw him enter his dorm hand in hand with a girl. I never wish to be her, another one night stand. Once would never be enough. 
I nearly kissed him again.
He helped me pick up the pile of books I dropped at the library. He seemed kind and concerned. Ha! Who am I kidding?
I count down the hours until I see him again.
Maybe in another lifetime it wouldn’t matter: bloodlines, social status, and hierarchies. So unnecessary.
I noticed the veins in his arm at quidditch practice. I tried not to bite my lip. What must it be like to be wrapped in those arms?
And there he was again with his stupid hair breaking my stupid heart.
Enzo hears determined footsteps approaching and he shuts the journal, hiding it behind him.
“Fine, Berkshire,” I sigh when I reach him. “Here, take my notes,” I say, handing it out to him.
He quirks an eyebrow.
“Weren’t you so desperate to get them earlier?” I fold my arms. “I will not be part of the reason you fail in class.” I point at him, “you and your dumb ass can very well do it yourself. I have more important things to worry about.”
“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”
My brain short circuits, the fire freezing in my veins. How the hell does he know?
He smirks, pulling out a familiar black journal. My eyes widen.
“On second thought,” I say, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter,” I turn around and walk away. “Fail class for all I care.”
I’m yanked back when I feel Enzo’s grip on my wrist. “Wait.”
My heart thumps in my chest. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. He knows!
“I’m sorry,” he says. What? I turn back, my confused expression directed at him.
“That I called you a mudblood,” he explains. “I was a dumb ass when we were younger.”
“Finally, we agree on something,” I state, trying to mask the tremble in my voice.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you back then and I was prejudiced. Over the years, I enjoyed watching your passion for magic and studying. How you light up when you talk to your friends about a book you just read. And how you’re always the first to volunteer when someone needs help. You have this fire and warmth in you and I just need to be around it all the time. I’m reduced to being a moth to your flame and I don’t mind it at all.”
I blink, speechless.
He takes a step forward, voice softening. “Why do you think I tease you all the time?”
“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?” The anger not quite there in my voice.
“I just wanted a chance to talk to you and I thought you hated me.” He brushes the hair from my face and cups my face. “Clearly, I was wrong.”
I roll my eyes, “Oh no, I do hate you.” I falter, “but maybe I kind of, just sort of, like you too.”
He grins. “It seems there are things we need to talk about. Will you go on a date with me?”
My heart stutters. “You already know my answer.”
He laughs, “stubborn as always. I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls me in for a hug. 
Oh. Being wrapped in his strong arms is even better than I imagined. I rest my head on his shoulder when a thought occurs to me.
“You’re sure this is not just some elaborate ploy for me to keep giving you my notes?”
He sighs, “of course not, just enjoy this moment."
He moves his mouth to my ear, "But if you do, I solemnly swear I will make it worth your while.��
I don't hit him this time.
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✿ Masterlist
A/N: For those who get the Avril Lavigne title reference, here's a tight hug for you! ♡
I may or may not have also had a place where I wrote down love confessions for someone I couldn’t have. Some of those may or may not have been included in the journal entries.
Two fics published in one day? Who is she?
425 notes · View notes
nisuna · 3 months
Note
Need more yuuji smut!!
So hear me out-
bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.
Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff
Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3
⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this
TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji
~2,8k words~
<3masterlist<3
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--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------
Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.
It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.
"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.
"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.
"Yuji, what are you doing here?"
"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.
"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"
"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."
"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"
"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.
"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.
"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.
"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."
You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.
He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"
"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.
"Want me to carry you?"
"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.
"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."
"Okay."
After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.
Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.
------
You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.
"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.
"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."
"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"
"All day actually...", you confessed.
His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.
After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."
"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Can we cuddle too?"
"We can do whatever you need."
That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"
"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."
"Just what?"
"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."
"But I'm sure, I really want this-"
"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."
You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.
You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.
After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.
"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.
"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.
"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."
You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.
"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.
"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.
"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.
"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.
"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.
"Nope."
"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.
"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."
That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.
"You're practically drooling."
"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.
"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.
"Can I touch you?"
"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"
His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.
"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.
"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.
"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.
"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.
"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.
"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."
Before he could leave you, you stopped him.
"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.
"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.
Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.
He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.
"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."
"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.
"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."
You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.
Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.
"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."
So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.
The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.
"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."
If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.
"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.
Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.
When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.
Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.
"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."
"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.
You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.
"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."
You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.
Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.
--------
If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah
Hope to see you all very soon<3
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libraryofgage · 5 months
Text
Addams Family B-Side (2)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one)
Hello, and welcome back to Addams Family B-Side, where I take my Addams Family Steddie idea and flip the cassette tape
This is part of a larger series in which I give Steve Harrington good parents from different shows/movies/etc. If there are any other people you think would make good parents for Steve, let me know! I'll take them into consideration and see if inspiration sparks :D
Also, there's a meme at the end, so enjoy that hfjks
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)
---------
Just because Steve finds Eddie Munson fascinating, that doesn't mean he's going to immediately move to wooing the guy. Well. He would, but his mother has some reasonable yet strict rules about these things, the first of all being that Steve can't like someone just for a pretty face. Or sizable personal wealth. He's got to talk to the person to figure out if they can stand each other before commencing the romancing.
Steve doesn't see himself getting a chance to talk to Eddie anytime soon, so he morosely (and it's not even fun this time) puts his fascination on the back burner for the rest of the day.
Then school ends, and Pubert has some after-school commitment, so Steve waits for him in the grossest bathroom he can find on campus. It's near the fine arts hall, has a flickering light above the mirror, and sports mold in one corner that Steve is tempted to harvest for Grandmama. He bets it'd make a great ingredient for something.
He's just about to scrape some of the mold away when the door slams open. Steve looks up in time to see Eddie (his eyes wide and somewhat terrified, and Steve is briefly angry and consumed by the thought that he's the only one who should be making Eddie scared like that) slip across the tile and crash into the wall on the far side of the bathroom.
Steve is momentarily stunned by Eddie's appearance, his heart lurching in his chest and the sudden urge to hide behind something rearing its head. In the back of his mind, he remembers his father describing the first time he saw Debbie; how he clammed up and was so in awe of her that he couldn't say a thing. Steve finally gets it. If he tried to speak right now, he'd probably only mumble or mutter something unintelligible.
Steve is about to try anyway when the door slams open again and three other boys walk in. They're wearing letterman jackets, and Steve recognizes one of them from lunch. He wasn't the boy who called Eddie a prick, but he was sitting at that table and looking particularly annoyed. Now, he just looks taken aback by Steve's presence, and the feeling is mutual.
"You're that new kid, right?" he asks, his lips pulled back in a sneer as he looks Steve up and down. "Get out."
"I was here first," Steve says, frowning slightly as he glances from the boys to Eddie. "What are you doing?"
"We're teaching this dipshit a lesson for disrespecting us," the guy says, cracking his knuckles and narrowing his eyes at Steve. "So, unless you want your ass kicked, too, get out."
Oh. This is bullying. Steve blinks, a sudden glee building in his chest. He glances at Eddie. "Were you planning to fight back?" he asks, figuring he won't take that fun away.
Eddie stares at him like he's clinically insane, and Steve is a little flattered. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie asks, throwing a hand out and gesturing at the guys. "They're brick shithouses."
Steve hums softly and nods, swinging his backpack off his shoulders and opening the main pocket. As he's rummaging around, he hears the ringleader of the jocks (that's what they'd be called in a movie, he thinks) scoff at him. "Are you fucking dumb? Or are you that eager for a ride in an ambulance?" he asks.
Finally, Steve finds what he's looking for and smiles. "Oh. No. I just had to get a weapon," he says, pulling his travel mace out of his bag. He presses a button and spikes release from the ball on the end. Steve looks up at the jocks with an eager smile. "Who first?"
"What the fuck is that?!"
Steve blinks, a little worried about the public education system. "It's a weapon. A mace, to be exact. There's three of you. This evens the odds," he explains.
The three take a step back, looking at Steve like he's clinically insane, and this time he's disgusted by the gesture. "You're fucking crazy," the first one says before turning heel and leaving the bathroom. The other two follow closely behind, and Steve has to stifle the sheer disappointment.
He sighs and retracts the spikes, placing the mace back into his bag. "Are you disappointed you didn't get to fight?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve's attention back.
Eddie is noticeably more relaxed now, and he's looking at Steve like he's an enigma. That's not quite as good as clinically insane, but it's still flattering nonetheless. Steve swallows down the nerves that suddenly appear again, trying to channel his mother's calm confidence instead. "A little," he admits, zipping up his bag before slinging it back onto his shoulders. "I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington."
"Oh, uh, Eddie Munson."
"I know. I saw you at lunch."
Eddie perks up a little, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah? And what did you think, Harrington?" he asks.
Steve stares at him for a moment before taking a step forward, the faint scent of weed and cheap body spray making its way to him. He makes a quick mental note to look into colognes for one that would fit Eddie best (perhaps something crisp and harsh like a wild blizzard with inescapable winds). "I think," Steve says, holding Eddie's gaze, "that you've got incredible conviction."
"Uh, thanks?"
"You're welcome," Steve says, studying Eddie a moment longer. "Let me know if they bother you again. I can pull out a bomb next time."
Before Eddie can respond, the door swings open for a third time. Steve looks over his shoulder and pulls back when he sees Pubert. "Ready to go?" Pubert asks, glancing between the two. "Or am I interrupting something?"
"Not interrupting. And yeah, ready to go."
"Wait, how do you know Pubert Addams?" Eddie asks, looking between the two with a frown. The emotion in his eyes is recognizable if only because Steve has seen it in his mother's eyes when someone beats her to a sale or happens to be wearing a nicer necklace. Jealousy, plain and simple.
Steve grins at Eddie, ready to soothe his jealousy when Pubert cuts in. "Save it," he says, grabbing Steve's hand, "we're gonna be late." With that, he pulls Steve out of the bathroom and down the hall.
"What was that for?" Steve asks.
"I've got to get my entertainment somehow," Pubert replies, smirking as he drops Steve's hand. "Watching someone be jealous will do for a while."
-----
When Steve gets home, leaving Pubert on the sidewalk without another glance because he's too excited to get inside and tell his mother about the crush that he's talked to, he finds only his father in the kitchen. Without needing to be asked, Fester says, "Debbie and Morticia went to get their nails done. It was an emergency. Apparently, Debbie couldn't tear open letters as easily anymore."
Steve nods once and drops his bag onto the island. "I'm in love," he announces.
His father freezes, a tray of roasted vegetables in his hands. A few moments pass before Fester fully processes Steve's words, and he asks, "Have you talked to them? You know your mother's rule."
"I have," Steve says, unable to help a grin, "and he's perfect."
Fester drops the tray onto the stovetop, and Steve suddenly finds himself lifted into the air and spun around. "In love! Oh, I hope it's miserable for you," Fester says.
Steve laughs, nearly tripping over his feet when Fester sets him down. "I haven't decided how to approach him yet," he admits, grabbing onto the counter for support.
"Tell me about him," Fester says, grabbing Steve's shoulders and staring intensely at him. It's like he thinks he'll be able to read Steve's mind if he refrains from blinking long enough.
Steve pushes his father into one of the chairs at the kitchen's island. "His name is Eddie Munson. He's got this wild look to him. Like, his hair is all wavy and kinda poofy like he got half-electrocuted. And his eyes are the most beautiful swamp-mud brown I've ever seen. He speaks with conviction and has a shirt with a demon head on it and has all these rings and spikes on his vest. And he looks incredible when he's terrified. I mean, if I hadn't been so angry, I would've proposed right there," Steve gushes, the words falling from him in a breathless rush.
"What made you angry?" Fester asks, quickly latching to the last point.
"These...jocks. That's what they're called. Jocks. They were chasing him for stuff he said at lunch. He made this whole speech at lunch, by the way. It was incredible. Way too short and just barely addressing the actual issues and he'd never win a single political campaign. Anyway, these jocks, they chased him into the bathroom where I was, and they had him outnumbered and were muscular, so he was scared of getting beat up, I think. They threatened to beat me up, too, which I was excited about, but they ran away when I pulled out my travel mace. I mean, how rude is that? It's just bad form to run when someone's pulled out a weapon."
"And he wasn't angry about you taking his chance to fight?" Fester asks.
"Not at all! He seemed relieved. I think he might be better with, you know, poisons or something," Steve explains, shrugging slightly. He knows everyone has their specialties; he's a master of physical brawls and fights, Pubert does best with explosives, his mother just has a way with words and manipulation, and his father can give people the creeps just by looking at them.
Fester nods, an eager grin taking over his face. "You've got to start wooing him!" he says, slapping his hand on the island counter and pushing himself out of his seat. "Start small, something to test the waters."
"Oh! I could get him a rat," Steve says, thinking of the ones that like to burrow around in their yard. They're big and fearless, and Steve used them to practice his prowling and hunting when he was young. He's got many fond memories of crouching and pouncing right before they scattered across the yard.
"Wait," Fester says, holding up a hand and thinking for a moment, "we should think like your mother. She's the most romantic person we know."
"She blew you up," Steve agrees, nodding seriously. "She'd probably say that I shouldn't give him a live rat. Because he's, uh, not like us?" Steve looks at Fester, waiting for his father to nod once in approval before continuing, "I think Mom talked about stuffed animals once. So, maybe I can get him a stuffed rat, instead."
"Yes! Good! And then you should...learn about his interests! What does he like?" Fester asks.
"I'll have to watch him to find out. I can probably make him something once I know. I mean, he's probably got normal interests, like bugs and poisons and torture practices, right? That's what most people like."
"Don't forget dancing or music."
"Right," Steve says, "dancing or music. But he'll probably have special interests, too. Like Satanism. I should watch for those."
With something akin to a plan in place, Steve leaves Fester to sneakily poison the roasted vegetables while he plans the first step of wooing Eddie.
-----
Ever since meeting Steve Harrington in the bathroom, Eddie has been feeling eyes on him. Not even the normal kind that are annoyed or just curious about the school's resident freak. No, these eyes are...intense. They're laser-focused on his every move and clearly filled with some kind of intentions that he can't discern.
He just doesn't know where they're coming from. When he looks around to see who's staring, he can't find anyone. It's been driving him crazy for almost a week now, and Eddie is just about ready to scream when he opens his locker and...
And finds a rat.
Like, a real rat.
Well, it's dead, but it was alive once. Eddie blinks, staring at the taxidermied rat innocently sitting on top of the pile of books and papers and folders stacked in his locker. It's big and has a surprisingly shiny brown coat, kind of like someone had given the thing a thorough wash with extra shampoo and conditioner. There's a blood-red ribbon wrapped around the rat's neck, a perfect bow tied behind its head, with a tag hanging from it. When Eddie hesitantly turns the tag over, he finds "Name: Kas" at the top and "Hope you like him" written on the bottom in careful, meticulous handwriting.
It should be creepy. It should be disturbing. Eddie should be paranoid beyond reason because how did the mystery gifter even know his locker combination? Did they stuff this rat themselves? Did they kill the rat themselves? Why the fuck would they give him a rat?
But...it's oddly...sweet? Somehow, Eddie can feel that it's not, like, a malicious gift. And he likes the rat. Kas. He likes Kas. Its fur is surprisingly soft when he picks it up, and Eddie spends a good minute just rubbing his thumb over its back.
Then he feels those eyes on him again. They're even more intense this time, like they're watching him closely to see his reaction and...oh. Is this...a weird secret admirer? Does Eddie "The Freak" Munson have a secret admirer? A weird one, sure, because who the fuck gifts taxidermied rats, but still.
He looks around, taking in the other students in the semi-crowded hallway, trying to find those eyes. He doesn't find anyone staring at him, but he does end up staring himself at Steve Harrington. The guy is leaning on a locker across the hall, inexplicably fiddling with a lightbulb as he talks to Pubert Addams, who's digging around in his own locker. If Eddie squints, he could almost convince himself that Steve's cheeks are a little pinker than normal.
After a few seconds, Steve glances up and meets his gaze. They stare at each other for a few tense moments, something building in Eddie's chest as the weight of Steve's eyes surrounds him. It doesn't feel bad, but he's not used to being the center of someone's attention like this. Normally, people are frowning when they pay attention to him. Or, if they're his friends, goading him on and joining in the joke. But this is different, like Steve finds him fascinating.
And then Pubert Addams slams his locker door shut and looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing when he sees Eddie staring at Steve. He frowns, throws an arm over Steve's shoulders, and pulls him away. Pubert's shoulders are a little tense, his expression sour as he says something to Steve that results in one last, furtive glance at Eddie before he's out of sight.
Suddenly, nothing is more important to Eddie than figuring out what the fuck is going on between Steve Harrington and Pubert Addams.
------
Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!)
@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane,
And now, a meme for your viewing pleasure:
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707 notes · View notes
1eoness · 11 months
Text
professor!re4r leon fucking u.. i think (or at least wanting to fuck u)
cw content : leon size kink kennedy (jk) | sub-afab-fem-reader and dom!leon kennedy | age gap(ur 19-20 he's 27), leon masturbating, penetration, slightly weird ooc leon:( ♡
[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]
authors note bc i love rambling; btw i'm writing this in public at some boba cafe can u believe that lol im literally supposed to be studying but hwatever fuck it leon make me go blaahhhhhh. btw what do i call this? a fic?blurb?drabble? idklmfao by the way i have NO idea on how to write professor x reader shit so im sorrhy if this sucks ass.
synopsis : conflicted and flustered professor!leon kennedy of your local college struggles to improve his class' average because students like you—incompetent, airheaded, spoiled and klutzy— make it difficult for him :(
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
you heard the rustling of laptop bags and stationery as leon's students left for that morning lecture. though, they moved slow and drowsy; for leon is sure nowadays this generation can't afford to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to prepare for a 7 a.m. lecture on "deviance and crime control."
especially you.
kennedy is a sharp man. he harps on students even if they get a B on any assignment, but he swears it's on his tough love (to which a lot of students aren't really aware of, just that they know this stoic pretty-face of a man has high standards.)
he is also keen on attendance. something girls like you seem to take lightly. it was absurd, really. most professors don't give a shit, do they?
it would've been fine with leon if you missed lectures even twice a week as long as you emphasized your understanding of his lessons through putting stellar effort on your schoolwork. but the best you've gotten on his class was a B- drawing close to a C+.
so, he needs to have a chat with you. urgently.
"l/n, i need to speak with you." leon spoke, confrontative as his black jeans peered from your right peripheral vision. he stood tall beside the edge of the table where you sat. jesus, was he trying to give you a heart attack? (he always had this habit, he'd just pop out of nowhere. he has silent feet.)
yes, you may have missed his lectures from monday to thursday to go to macedonia with your family: but if leon were given the opportunity for a vacation he would snag it too, right?
you looked up at the young professor, wide-eyed and a bit intimidated. what the hell did you do this time? you closed your laptop, gave leon your full attention. leon has also noticed this about you; you're quick to pay attention but you have the memory span of a dumb rabbit. maybe even the IQ of one too, if leon was rude enough.
so you sat there, hands on your lap as you fiddled with the pleats of your blue plaid skirt. the color makes his heart beat a little—he loves the color blue. and the way it looked on you... wait, no. what the hell was he thinking?
"you couldn't even spare the few minutes to e-mail me that you'd be missing four- four, of my classes in one week." he emphasized with a slate tone, and the way his eyes peered down at you added that he needed your reasoning of the situation. he'd love to hear what you had to say for yourself. "i had to talk to your friend, ashley, for some clarification. even the president's daughter has the dignity to show up to my class with a verbal apology." leon scolded as his fingertips met the pages of your notebook. did you even care about his classes? :(
much to your chagrin, your lips were pressed in sheepish silence. hopeless, even. you didn't even have anything to say for yourself? how pitiable.
you simply can't miss class, that wasn't right! just because you thought you could hide in the shadows amidst leon's collective of 73 students (yes he counts), you aren't out of his eyes. in fact, you stood out to him even if you were just an incompetent scholar.
he sighed at your silence. "fair enough, an apology can't compensate for your lack of presence or decorum." he then placed your paper on the desk, you had gotten a D. you were never a bad student but this was your first D ever! your eyes widened and he caught on even though he could only see the crown of your hair. "surprised? because i'm not." leon uttered flatly while his pale fingers flipped through the papers right in front of you. you even spotted a few contractions— when did you even pass this?!
but you weren't a bad girl to him, no. you were capable of shame and guilt. you looked sideways, unable to meet his eyes and training your vision to the floor. you felt low, disappointing a professor that gave you numerous chances to break out of your awkward shell.
"you're a smart girl, you know that?" he finally sighed softly. he wanted you to look at him, make him another promise that you'll start putting effort in his class. he needed to maintain his class's average or else he'd prove he was an inept professor, and he can't do that when he lets 'students like you' get away with shabby attendance and subpar schoolwork. "i don't just give students chances. but that doesn't make you special." and it was true—he's voluntarily failed 6 of his students before. "you'll do something about this, right?"
"yes, professor kennedy.." you muttered modestly.
"hmm?" he hummed inquisitively as he took your paper back. he was willing to give you a chance. "listen to me. i'll give you the chance to redo your paper. i know when students rush their work and if i see even a hint of redundancy in it—i will take all my chances back. and you are never taking absences from my class. i don't want you entering even a minute late, or leaving a second early. i hope we're clear, l/n."
naturally, you were scared. so you nodded up at him after countless confirmations that you will do you work and that you'll show up to class no matter what. he has to use your word against you, he's sorry but it's for your own good.
once he was satisfied, he gave you a nod and turned his side, dismissing you. after all, leon was a busy man. you're not his only student.
it was when you walked out the building and then 20 minutes away from it that you felt like crying. you hated being scolded by him :( but just when you were about to go through your bag for your handkerchief, you were stuck with an inconvenient realization. you forgot your handkerchief.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
leon just stared at the table where you sat from just now, backpack strap over his shoulders since he was just about to leave. he gripped onto either of them slowly as he stared down at your handkerchief in contemplation.
a twofold baby-blue hankie embedded with a subtle floral print. tentatively, he picks it up with his hand and examines it. for a minute his mind went blank, conflicting between chasing you and just returning it to you or to leave it by the lecture podium for her to retrieve tomorrow (when you hopefully attend his lesson again.)
..but blue was his favorite color.
"damn it." leon, with a barely audible mutter, shoved the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. he felt like the most guilty man in the world, poor boy.
...
leon sighed.
he wasn't celibate.
his hormones were in shambles once he got to his place. perhaps part of it was because he knew he hasn't graded the recent tests yet.
manspreading, tie loose, shirt stuffy and jeans undone while his hair wisped in slightly disheveled directions. cold breaths followed out his pretty mouth.
"nnn..fuck.. uhh-" leon whimpered into the baby blue cloth, laced with your perfume. he felt so guilty, so perverted. he shuddered every time he could see over the edges of the cloth, seeing his cream-leaking tip from previous orgasms spurt teasingly. "ahh- fuuuck, p-please-"
his grunts were high. he was close to crying, staining your pretty handkerchief with guilty-pleasure-ridden tears. spilled milk, it trailed down his pretty shaft as he pumped it over and over. his motive was you— you were just so fucking stupid and had so much naivete, it absolutely vexed him knowing how endearing you were.
until a slip of leon's mouth surprised him, earning a small squeak from him as he accidentally muffled your name in your cloth. "fuck, y/n- a-ahh.. u-uhh..hmfff.." he was frustrated; whining and cumming while his mind stirred with the thought of you and your pretty eyes and the photographic memory of your dumbstricken face.
he gave out a tired whine into the cloth, so, so close to crying his frustrations out. he just wanted to eat you. christ, and he was so hard for you it made his head ache..
he could only watch his girth that pulsed with white. he pried the sweet handkerchief off his lips, breathing roughly and wiping his tears. he felt so, so sorry for you. the color of the cloth looked exactly like the skirt you wore yesterday. and yet to top it off, he (ashamedly) wiped his cum off with your dainty cloth. oh, he's so sorry..
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
he didn't want to come to this point. or maybe he did and god was force-feeding him with culpability (he's atheist). he offered once to tutor you personally. one-on-one, no distractions. and so suddenly, someone's skirt was on his clean carpet floor..
your blouse draped over your shoulder and was pulled above your bra carelessly. he handled you with so much ease, squishing you into position while he tried to slowly push his thick length into your syrupy hole. you bit the knuckle of your thumb, and whimpered timidly that he was too big. but look where you were now.
"fuck- you're so- you feel so good.. shut up and take it all, yeah?.. hmmff-" there leon goes, harping you again. you were so loud but it wasn't even your fault, not when he was pistoning his cock into you and paying no hesitation to his pace. you were simply too sweet for him not to please. "sweetheart, hold onto me.." he mutters.
he was pushing every squeak and cute little wail out of his pathetic student, rutting his tip into that spot. "n-nnghh- aah!~" you were running low on words.
"yeah?- mhmm...ffuck, right here? huh?" the feeling of him thrusting against that spongy part more and more sent your mind further into autopilot. you were past squirming around and pushing him away, you just had to take it.. and take it.. and you were doing so good ♡.
"l-leoonn.. m-mm!- fffeels t-too good-" you babbled, mind stuffy with the pleasurably-shameful feeling of being gorged with your professor's thick girth. he shuddered at the way you uttered his name so adoringly. to leon you were so dirty but so, so cute. he had you puddled into tears beneath him while he fucked into your cute little hole with fervor. he just wanted to stuff you full, make you his, adore you forever.
he whined softly into your shoulder. you kept clenching down on him and it made him impossible to think. his phone was ringing on his bedside but he doesn't even give a shit—if anything he tried to drown it out by thrusting into you faster, to which made him lament into your skin. he even adjusted your hips up impossibly further.
"l-leeonn, n-no..— n-no more, please!!-" you blabbered adorably, voice mumbly and whiny as you clawed at his shoulders or back— you didn't know anymore.
"shhh shh.." he cooed over your cries with a quiet and honeyed voice, planting a soft kiss to where he could reach on your face or head. "i know, i know, it feels so good, hm?.. just let it feel good, baby—ahh, fuck-.. uhh..." he moaned lowly into your shoulder, unable to stop the way he rutted his cock into your creamed-up cunt. you seemed to be enjoying it, so why were you complaining? leon thinks to himself smugly but he knows he can't act on his pride. after all you made him like this—submitting to his carnal urges...
you didn't wanna cum a third time, huh? silly little girl.
leon growled quietly into the crook where your neck and shoulder met. you've never heard that sound from him. he held you down, constraining you, and squished you further into his mattress. a helpless and surprised yelp lolled out your tongue as he went impossibly quicker while he cursed like he was about to break down in tears. leon was mercilessly grinding his cock into all your sensitive spots, not letting your pleas of retort contest him. "fuckfuck- u-uhhh, take it, baby, c'mon... do it f'me, it's gonna feel so good-.. ahh!-"
he couldn't even finish his sentence—just piping his cum in you roughly as if he were proving a point, growling whinily along the way. he even kept fucking you shallowly while you were a dumb, sniffling mess with no sense of self-assertion as you creamed all over his shaft uncontrollably a third time. consecutive and quiet whimpers could be heard from you while you soaked in your overstimulation, needing him desperately to reassure you again through the overbearing pleasure of being pushed past what your cunny can handle.
"poor baby." he muttered to himself breathily as he gave the last of his tired, frustrated thrusts and pulled out of you; giving you the time to breathe while he pats your hair down comfortingly. his fluttering eyes finally closed as his head found refuge in your neck, slightly limp with exhaustion as he huffed cold breaths on the wet patches of your skin.
he pulled his head away after a minute of regaining what's left of his strength. leon looked down at you with subtle puppylike eyes, like he was sorry for ever being so harsh on you; even before he fucked the shit out of you. you quietly took your handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his neck— and his cheeks went a little rosy, remembering what he did to it that day you "lost" it ♡.
seems detergent can't wash something like lust away!
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